Reign of Outlaws Read online

  “So how can we show that?” Robyn asked. “How can we make the fifteen people in this room seem like hundreds? Because the bigger we look, the bigger we’ll actually be.” She knew this was true because she’d seen it happen in her old school lots and lots of times. Someone would come in with something new and strange: a hairdo, an accessory, a toy … and suddenly, within a few days everyone in class felt they MUST HAVE IT, too. Of course, that had never really worked for Robyn—people just thought she was weird!—but she knew it worked in concept.

  “I agree,” said Nessa. “People want to do what they think everyone else is already doing. If we look bigger, we become hundreds.”

  “How about graffiti?” Scarlet suggested. “We tag, all day and all night, in all different neighborhoods. By the time the sun comes up tomorrow, it could look like all of Sherwood rose up to support you.”

  “Perfect,” Robyn said. “We steal a lot of paint, and go to town.”

  “A lot of GREEN paint, I’d say,” Key added.

  “I can do it over the night,” Bridger said. “But I’m no kind of artist. What will we have to paint?”

  “We have no shortage of symbols,” Robyn said, growing more and more excited about the idea. “The elements: earth, air, and water. The moon. The fire. The arrow.”

  “But we want it to be uniform, right?” Key said. “So it’s clearly related to you?”

  “The arrows,” Scarlet said. “Easy to draw, and easy to recognize.”

  “We paint arrows on everything,” Robyn confirmed. “Nessa’s broadcast spreads the word, and invites more people to join us in painting.”

  “And also to protest at the showcase?” Nessa asked.

  Robyn didn’t totally understand what the showcase actually was; there was time to figure out those details. “I think so,” she said. “Let’s talk after this meeting.”

  Nessa nodded in agreement.

  “I have an idea about it,” Scarlet said. “The three of us can chat.”

  “Okay,” Robyn said. Her first leadership meeting was going pretty well, and she wanted to end it on a high note. They quickly brainstormed places to “shop” for green paint, and divided the responsibility for each neighborhood in Sherwood.

  “This afternoon we shop, and tonight, we paint!” Robyn declared. “Tomorrow afternoon, we meet back here.”

  In response, everyone raised murmurs of agreement and excitement. So Robyn decided the meeting was finished. “For Sherwood, unite!” she said.

  Every voice was with her in the refrain. “For Sherwood, we fight!”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Lost

  Laurel walked the wide sidewalks of Castle District slowly. Inside the governor’s mansion gates had been scary. Outside the gates was scarier. Every road looked like every other road. The signs had letters and words on them but Laurel couldn’t tell what they said. She had no idea which way to walk. She had no idea where there might be checkpoints. There were fewer easy places to hide.

  The streets were different here in Castle District. Many of the roads were as wide as the Sherwood Cannonway.

  The buildings were different, too. All the houses were separate from each other with big lawns in between. There were no alleys, no fire escapes. There was no way to climb from roof to roof, like she was used to.

  She knew she needed to find the woods. There were trees everywhere—in the boulevards, in the parking lots, in people’s lawns—but not enough trees together to look like the Notting Wood.

  None of the streets seemed like back roads. Laurel kept crossing major streets, fearing MPs, but not seeing any.

  Here, it seemed, you could walk freely. Here people left things outside that would be so easy to walk away with. Bikes and radios and hats and baskets and television screens mounted outdoors. Even from the sidewalk she could see lots of interesting things on porches. Hardly any people were walking on the sidewalks, either, but there were lots and lots of cars.

  No one seemed to notice her. No one seemed to be looking. It was an entirely different world.

  Tucker was sent to join a group of men working in the quarry. A dozen or so guys, equipped with shovels and diggers, wheelbarrows and pickaxes. None of the men looked like they’d been doing this kind of hard labor all their lives. They moved slowly, lifting small shovelfuls of gravel at a time.

  Tucker moved toward one of the closest men, who was rolling a wheelbarrow. He joined him, taking one handle to share the load.

  “I’m Tucker.”

  “Robert,” the other man said.

  Together they eased the wheelbarrow along the bumpy ground. Robert, it turned out, was one of the people taken on the Night of Shadows, as the people of Sherwood called it. The night Crown had staged his coup and taken over. Robert was a former member of Parliament, now ousted from his post.

  “Why do they keep the men and women separately?” Tucker asked. It was something he’d been wondering for a while, actually. The previous evening they’d broken into the dungeon in the governor’s mansion, to find only the women prisoners. Here, at the gravel camp, it seemed to be all men.

  “It’s not clear,” Robert said. “My theory?” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure they weren’t overheard. “Deep down, Ignomus is a softie when it comes to women. Wants to protect them.”

  Tucker couldn’t stop the chuckle that burst forth. “Oh, right. That sounds like him.”

  Crown? A soft spot for women? Was this the same guy who spends his time hunting and threatening a twelve-year-old girl?

  “You’ve been in prison for months. Do you know what’s going on out there?”

  Robert also grinned. “That far-fetched, huh?”

  “Crown’s got a vendetta against a kid. A girl.”

  “Then he’s truly not the man he once was,” Robert said, his voice tinged with a great sadness.

  Tucker shook his head. Images of Crown’s video broadcasts flashed through his mind. “I can’t imagine he was ever different.”

  “He lost his wife some time ago,” Robert said. He stabbed the rocks with the shovel blade, then stacked his hands on the rounded tip of the handle. “It—well, it destroyed him.” The man’s expression turned wistful, gazing off into space. “We were friends back then.”

  Moments passed. Tucker didn’t know what to say. Something spiritual. Something … hopeful. He searched his mind, but not fast enough.

  Finally, Robert shrugged and began shoveling in earnest. “I can’t explain who he’s become. And I’ve spent the last few years trying to prevent him from becoming … this.”

  “Have faith,” Tucker said. “We’re working on it.”

  “It’s going to take more than a couple of kids to take him down.”

  “Robyn’s tough. She’s gonna make it.”

  Robert’s hands slipped off the shovel. The rocks cascaded back into place as the tool clattered to the ground. His dark eyes flashed. “Robyn?”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Intentions

  Not long after the Crescendo meeting ended, Robyn sat alone in the cathedral. Nessa and Scarlet had gone their separate ways. The high of leadership was fading, and Robyn found herself feeling small and hopeless once again.

  For a moment, surrounded by friends and seeing the faces of those who had come to provide help, she had felt powerful. As powerful as the fire, perhaps.

  But in the sudden large quiet, all her doubts crept back in. Would it really be enough?

  She would go now, and get some green paint. That would be easy enough. They’d all gotten good at sneaking in and out of Crown’s food depots. The new hardware depots that carried things like paint were far less protected at this point. Of course, they would avoid stealing from local businesses if they could help it. The adults would use whatever money they had to buy paint from those business owners. We steal from Crown, not from the people, Robyn had reminded them all as they left.

  She looked toward the choir loft. Not now. Not yet. The Crescendo had to take priority.
First she’d get the paint, then she could study the moon lore. Then she could work on a real plan to save them.

  Merryan jumped out of the car as soon as it crossed the threshold of the garage and came to a complete stop. She had to tug the car door handle three times before it released. Strange. It hadn’t opened that morning to let Laurel into the car, either. She would forever regret not being able to help her friend out of a jam.

  Merryan stood outside the car for one long moment, waiting to see if Laurel emerged again. She had seen her running toward the exit, but the car had so quickly left her in its dust, Merryan had no idea if Laurel’s escape had worked. She closed her eyes and prayed for the hundredth time today that Laurel was safe.

  “I’ll be right back,” she told her driver as she scooted toward the house. She would run inside, change clothes, and be ready to go again. Today was her after-school volunteer shift at the Sherwood Health Clinic. Of course, she planned to make a secret detour to Nottingham Cathedral during her time in Sherwood. She had to know everyone was okay.

  She ran up to her room in record time, dumped her backpack, and stripped off her school uniform. Within minutes she was dressed in the cute outfit she had planned out the night before: a pale green shirt, lightweight skirt, and tights with boots.

  But when she returned to the garage, she found the door locked. She stood in the foyer for a moment, confused. Her driver appeared, coming through the service entrance—the space where the drivers and security staff had their lockers and their break room.

  “Uh, Miss Crown,” he said nervously. “The governor would like to see you in his office.”

  “Can I talk to him later? We’re going to be late,” she responded.

  The driver shrugged, looking even more uncomfortable. “He said, now.”

  Merryan resisted the temptation to argue further. He was only doing his job. With a heavy heart, she tromped up the stairs and wound through the hallways to reach her uncle’s office.

  She entered without knocking, which may have been a mistake. Uncle Iggy looked up in surprise as she came through the door. “You wanted to see me?”

  Her uncle leaned back in his chair. “How was your day?” he asked.

  “So far so good,” Merryan said as cheerfully as possible. “But it’s only half over. I’m on my way back out.”

  He frowned. “Merryan, dear, there’s been a bit of unrest in Sherwood of late. I’m afraid I’m not entirely comfortable sending you down there.”

  “But, I’m expected for my volunteer shift,” she said. “They’re counting on me.” She hoped her voice did not give away the undercurrent of anxiety and panic coursing through her. What if she couldn’t get back to see Robyn, to make sure everyone got away all right? She was dying to ask her uncle what all had happened, but of course she could not.

  Crown nodded. “I’ve called the clinic to let them know you can’t make it today.”

  “What?” How could he do that without telling her?

  “It’s not a good idea right now for you to be leaving the Castle District.”

  “Why on earth not?” she asked, her voice rising in annoyance. She tried to tamp it down. Tried to remind herself that she wasn’t supposed to know any of what was going on. She was an innocent bystander.

  “There are many people …” He paused. “Your safety is paramount, my dear.”

  “I’m safe. It’s perfectly safe,” Merryan insisted. “I volunteer at the health clinic.”

  “At one point you were doing some tutoring, closer to home. What happened with that?”

  “That’s later in the week,” she told him. She tutored a couple of kids from her school in math and history. She was surprised her uncle knew anything about her volunteer work, or cared.

  “Tutoring seems like a good use of your skills. Perhaps you could do more of that? You’re a very smart girl, Merryan.”

  “Yes, thank you.” Merryan racked her brain for other things to say. What else could she try? She put on a distressed expression. “Uncle Iggy, is this—is this because—because of the mistake I made?”

  His expression stayed motionless, perfect. It was impossible to read his thoughts. “Merryan, dear, everyone makes mistakes.” He paused. “But it’s true, I don’t like the way that these children took advantage of you. I don’t want you at risk.”

  “But—” She had to get back to Sherwood. “You could come with me. You’d see that there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  Her uncle studied her thoughtfully.

  “You said you wanted to be closer to me,” she said, grasping for straws. “Maybe it would be good for you to see what I do with my time.”

  “You know what I haven’t done in a long while?” her uncle said suddenly. “Go to the movies!”

  The change of subject caught Merryan off guard. “What?”

  “Let’s find out what’s playing,” he suggested cheerfully.

  “Why don’t you want me to go to Sherwood?”

  “We can make an afternoon of it. Popcorn? The works!” He was reaching for the intercom button. He seemed overly excited.

  Merryan was at a loss for what to do.

  Did Uncle Iggy think she could be distracted so easily from the things she cared about? He was playing with her heart surely enough. The truth was, she had always wanted them to do things together. The part of her that wanted to fight was rivaled by the part of her that wanted to play along and pretend things were okay.

  “Um, okay,” she said.

  Sheriff Mallet’s control console was smooth white and silver, covered in touch screens. The desk’s flat surface angled up forty-five degrees to face her as she rested in her high-backed white leather chair.

  Occasionally, as now, she ran a manicured finger along the edge of the desk, simply celebrating its power. From here, she could access whatever information she needed about any registered business, organization, or individual in all of Sherwood, and much of the rest of Nott City.

  A city-wide search had brought up very little in relation to the moon lore. A couple of fringe websites. A couple of herbal products meant to help you sleep. And a fairly significant collection of classic books in the Sherwood Public Library.

  Mallet clicked through the other websites quickly, offering them only perfunctory attention. Then she entered the library database. Libraries were useful places.

  The database returned a listing of several books relating to the moon lore. Mallet zipped the list of call numbers over to her PalmTab, then pushed back from the desk. It would be harder to explain to an aide why she wanted what she wanted. Better to go down there herself.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Best-Laid Plans

  When the circuit board sensors were tripped, a beeping alarm went off inside the cathedral. Robyn left her fresh stash of green paint in the office with Key. She scurried to the edge of the stairs and looked down at the secret entrance.

  Jeb strolled in, wearing his MP uniform. Scarlet was right behind him. Darn. Their entrance meant her own departure must be delayed slightly. She had made a plan to meet up with Bridger soon, but in the meantime she had meant to explore the moon lore clues on her own. She wouldn’t start tagging until after dark, but she planned to use the rest of the afternoon wisely.

  “Don’t you work today?” Robyn asked as Jeb got closer.

  “It’s my lunch break.”

  “Jeb told me something interesting today,” Scarlet reported.

  “Oh, yeah?” Robyn waited on the landing as they climbed the stairs to meet her. They were also carrying paint, concealed in canvas sacks. She relieved them of some of the load.

  “All of the MPs’ weapons are being systematically replaced,” Scarlet continued.

  “Bigger, badder, more deadly?” Robyn quipped.

  “Pretty much,” Jeb confirmed. “The new sidearms are completely awesome.”

  “Try to say that with a little less enthusiasm, eh?” Scarlet said. Together they moved down the hall.

  “What’s
happening to the old ones?” Key said as the others entered the office. He sat behind the piles of green paint canisters on the desk, staring at a sketchy map of Block Six that Bridger had drawn.

  “Funny you should ask,” Jeb said. “I just looked into it.”

  “They’re being dumped in a warehouse here in Sherwood.” Scarlet spread her arms wide. “A giant container.”

  Jeb nodded. “In a couple of days, once the changeover is complete, they’ll all be taken to the foundry and melted down.”

  “Not if we get to them first,” Scarlet said, her brows folding in determination.

  “Get to them how?” Key asked.

  “Break in and steal them!” Scarlet hitched her thumb toward him. “Where has he been all our lives?”

  Robyn grinned. Key looked sheepish. “Yeah, yeah.”

  “It’s not a good idea,” Jeb said.

  Scarlet crossed her arms. “Sure it is.”

  “What are we going to do with all those guns?” Robyn asked. “What’s the point of taking them?”

  “It’s new,” said Scarlet. “It takes our rebellion up a notch. And shows we’re serious.”

  “This isn’t the kind of rebellion we are,” Jeb said. “There are other ways to take down Crown.”

  “Then why did you even bring it up?” Scarlet retorted.

  Jeb crossed his arms. “I didn’t. I mean, not for this. I was just … telling you about my day.”

  “We’re not looking to fight a war in the streets,” Robyn said. “We can’t win that way.”

  “It may come to that,” Key argued. “Down the road.”

  “Us versus the MPs?” Robyn was skeptical.

  “We’d have to take time to train,” Jeb argued. “We have some experienced people in our ranks, but still. That takes a lot of time and organizing.”

  “Crown’s not going to roll over because of childish tricks,” Key said. “Does anyone really think he’s going to?”

  Scarlet nodded. “We stole some food. Big whoop. So far we’re helping people get by day to day, but the Crescendo should be about making real change.”