Chapter 2 Under Watchful Eyes

• The forest air feels electric as Marcus and I emerge from the tunnel. The setting sun bathes everything in a warm, golden light, filtering through the leaves above us. I can feel its warmth on my skin, penetrating the fabric of my hoodie’s sleeves.
• “Alaki?” Marcus’ voice echoes from behind me, tinged with nervous excitement.
• “Hmm?” I hum lightly, keeping a watchful eye on our surroundings as we navigate through the forest. The crunch of leaves and twigs under our feet seems unnaturally loud in the quiet woods.
• “What’s the plan?” Marcus asks as I shoot him a sideways glance through the shades keeping my eyes from exposure.
• Unlike me, he’s safe as long as his eyes remain hidden. His skin tone matches perfectly with the citizens of the Diallo Ring. Meanwhile, mine is perfectly imperfect, a shade too dark to convince anyone I belong to the Santos Ring and not dark enough to blend in as a Diallo.
• I take a deep breath, the scent of pine and earth filling my lungs. “Don’t get caught,” I answer sharply.
• Out of the corner of my eye, I see him side-eye me. His sarcastic tone is unmistakable as he asks, “No, really?”
• I chuckle softly, shaking my head ever-so-slightly as I breathe out, “Alright. We’re in Talos’ territory —”
• “Why?” He cuts me off, pointing out the obvious, “Neither of us looks like we belong there.”
• A sigh parts my lips as I explain. “The borders are still open. Other Ring members should still be roaming in different sectors. The Talos sector is the largest manufacturer in medicine, therefore we should have no issue finding what we need there. We go in, get what we need, and if we’re stopped for questioning, we say we are on our way to the border to cross over to the Diallo sector.”
• I pause momentarily, letting my words sink in. “Got it?”
• “Yeah,” he mutters, nodding with an uneasy look on his face. “But what if we get caught?”
• I halt on my tracks, arching a brow as he follows suit. “Are you sure you want to go?” I ask sharply, not wanting to drag him with me if he isn’t sure that he can handle it.
• I hardly know the kid and truth be told, I wasn’t too sure about bringing him along to begin with. I only agreed because I know what it’s like to have to stay in those tunnels without getting so much as a glimpse of what’s beyond them.
• Pity. I took pity on him. But a nervous man calls for more attention than we can afford.
• “Hell yeah,” his abrupt burst of confidence catches me off guard. “I’m down. I’m just askin’, ya know?”
• I eye him for a moment, exhaling sharply in an attempt to settle my own nerves. I nod at the direction we’re headed, urging him to keep up as I tell him, “If either of us gets caught, take the medicine and run. I’ll draw them away.”
• As we approach the city outskirts, the forest gives way to paved streets and towering buildings. It looks exactly like I remember it from the last time I stepped out—three years ago. Cars whoosh past, their engines a constant background noise.
• We emerge onto the empty sidewalk, and I can already feel my heart at my throat. The concrete beneath our shoes feels alien after the soft forest floor. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, but I try to keep a slow and steady pace.
• My cautious eyes stay alert, making sure that there are no military bases nearby or soldiers roaming the streets with those damn dogs of theirs that can smell the difference between what they are—pure-bloods–and what we are—half-bloods.
• We walk multiple blocks down, passing small neighborhoods and stores, and I’m relieved to find that quite a few different skins are walking the streets beside companions of different Rings.
• Marcus and I blend right in.
• Marcus’ voice shakes ever-so-slightly as he asks, “So, can I ask you a question?”
• He’s nervous.
• As much as I like to pretend that I am not too, I choose to entertain him, for both of our sakes.
• I nod, giving him the go ahead that prompts him to ask, “Are you single?”
• I snicker softly, shaking my head. “I’m too old for you, that’s what I am.”
• The corners of his lips curl into a smile, nudging at me. “What are you? Thirty?”
• Almost instantly, I snap my head to the side. “No. Twenty-three,” I say defensively. “Why? Do I look thirty?”
• He laughs and shakes his head, shrugging as he retorts, “We’re only seven years apart. That’s not that bad.”
• Um…sir? You are a child.
• I arch a brow, averting my gaze to the building with the large sign over it that reads ‘Drug Store’.
• “What?” he says suddenly. “My parents have a fifteen year age difference.”
• “Your parents.”
• “Oh yeah?” He continues to nudge me. “What about yours?”
• I don’t respond, not wanting to get into the sappy sob story of how I was orphaned at just a year old. It isn’t long before we find ourselves approaching the entrance. The automatic doors slide open, enveloping us in artificially cool air. The fluorescent lights overhead buzz softly, casting everything in a bright glow.
• I briefly glance at the blue-eyed, blond male standing behind the counter. Unsurprisingly, he looks just like the average Talos, and his attitude solidifies it. He doesn’t greet us, but instead, he eyes me suspiciously as Marcus and I walk to the counter.
• If I didn’t know better, I’d think that he’s trying really hard to figure out where I belong.
• Jokes on you. I don’t.
• He continues studying me until his eyes land on Marcus, then the hard look on his features softens.
• Maybe bringing him along wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
• “What do you need?” The man asks, his tone borderline aggressive.
• Without a word, I place the note that Caleb gave me on the counter. I try not to fidget, but it’s hard to remain still when I can hear my own heart pounding in my ears.
• All it would take is him asking the wrong—or right—questions.
• “It’s a little sunny in here, isn’t it?” the cashier comments, his eyes flickering to my shades.
• Shit.
• I feel Marcus shift uncomfortably beside me as I desperately try to remain calm. He parts his lips to speak, but then his eyes catch something else—or someone else. Whoever’s standing behind me evidently makes him nervous.
• “I-I’m sorry sir,” he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper. “I-I’ll be right with you.”
• The cashier excuses himself to the back storage, and time seems to slow to a crawl. Suddenly, I’m hyper-aware of the warm bodies standing behind me.
• Who is it? Why did he seem so nervous?
• My palms grow sweaty as I try to control my breathing, the rise and fall of my chest feeling unnaturally rapid. I contemplate looking back, the muscles in my neck tensing with the urge to turn.
• No. Too risky.
• When the cashier finally returns, the medicine bottle rattles slightly in his shaking hands. His earlier suspicion seems to have vanished, replaced by an almost frantic energy. His fingers tremble as he inputs the sale into his computer system, the soft beeping unnaturally loud in the quiet store.
• “Seven,” he says, his voice strained as he pushed the white paper bag toward me.
• I move quickly but carefully, keeping my hands hidden beneath the counter. The jade bills feel cool against my sweaty palms as I take them from the burlap bag. While the cashier’s attention is on Marcus, I place the money on the counter.
• His gaze never leaves Marcus, accepting the payment as Marcus reaches for the medicine. We turn to leave, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly. But as I step forward, I collide with something solid. My heart leaps into my throat as I stumble backward, my lower back hitting the counter hard enough to make me wince.
• Time seems to stop as my shades slip down my nose. The store’s harsh lighting floods my vision, and I find myself staring directly into a pair of piercing green eyes of a tall, muscular man in an impeccably tailored navy blue suit, his bead neatly trimmed. His plump lips are set in a straight line, but there’s an unexpected gentleness in his gaze that holds me transfixed.
• I don’t notice the tall men in black suits standing on either side of him, each of them with a hard look on their face, until I slide the shades back into place and they take a step forward. I can almost feel their hands reaching for me, my heart leaping into my throat.
• But the man in the center raises his hand, halting them. His eyes never leave my blue ones, and I know with a chilling certainty that he’s seen what I am. My hand trembles visibly as I adjust my shades, my heart pounding so hard I’m sure everyone can hear it.
• I’m done. It’s over.