The Other Morgan (Parallel Series, Book 5) Page 4

  He nodded.

  That seemed counter-intuitive to me. “Won’t that make it easier for the Enforcers to find me?” That was my primary concern.

  He set the scissors on the coffee table, then looked at me. “You need to be recognizable.”

  Recognizable? He might as well paint a giant bulls-eye on my back. I set my glass on the coffee table and saw my hand tremble. “I don’t want them to catch me.”

  “No, of course not. We’ll keep you well hidden. And this house is very secure.” He smiled. “I have a state of the art alarm system.”

  I didn’t understand. “Then what’s the point of me being recognizable?”

  “Public opinion seems to be on the verge of changing, to realizing that things have gotten out of control. The video Morgan made has been key to unlocking the mind of the public. But to reach the tipping point, we need something more.”

  “More? Like what?” I hoped he wasn’t suggesting that I go into a F.A.T. center. I’d be more likely to shave my head than to go into a F.A.T. center and face what DM faced.

  “What we have in mind,” Nick said, “is to create several more videos that we’ll upload as a kind of extension to what Morgan created.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “You’ll be the one in the videos, of course.”

  Which is why I need to look like DM.

  “The video you watched is exactly what the public is seeing,” he said. “But there’s no context to go with it, no narrative of what Morgan actually felt or experienced, or what led to each incident. No story to tie everything together.” He picked up an empty plate, set a sandwich on it along with several slices of fresh fruit, then leaned back in his chair.

  The food on his plate made my stomach churn. Or maybe it was the thought of pretending to be someone else. “How can I tell the story of what happened when I didn’t actually experience it?”

  “What did Morgan tell you in her letter? Did she give you many details of her time in Camp Willowmoss and Camp Stonewater?”

  I glanced at the envelope sitting on the coffee table. “She told me about a lot of the things that happened. You can read it if you want.”

  “Okay. Good.” He ate some cantaloupe. “What I want to do is to interview you. You would be the only one on camera, but I’d ask you questions and then you’d answer them based on the information Morgan told you in the letter.”

  That didn’t sound too awful. “Okay.”

  “We’ll keep the interviews brief. That should keep people coming back for more so that they can find out what happens next.”

  “When do you want to do this?”

  “As soon as you’re ready.” He glanced at the scissors. “You’ll need to cut your hair, although you can leave the color alone. And you’ll need to study the letter so that you can give authentic answers.”

  Authentic answers? What would happen if they were inauthentic?

  He must have sensed my worry. “We’ll practice each interview before we actually film it, okay?”

  I nodded. His proposal didn’t sound quite as daunting as I’d first thought it would be, and as my confidence grew, my stomach rumbled with hunger. I selected a sandwich, placed several pieces of fruit on my plate, and began eating.

  “I want to tell you one other thing,” Nick said.

  “Okay.”

  “The Enforcer you saw in the video? Mills?”

  “Yes.”

  “He works for me. For the resistance.”

  That was unexpected, and I wondered why he was telling me.

  “Mills is the one who chased Morgan down after she escaped from Holly.” He paused. “I’m only telling you about Mills because you may see him around here and I didn’t want you to be frightened of him.”

  I pictured the man I’d seen in several of the videos. He was large and imposing, and I was glad to know he was on our side.

  “When you’re done eating,” Nick said, “will you cut your hair?”

  The inevitability of my hair being cut short wrapped around me, and I knew it would be useless to fight it. I sighed. “I guess so.”

  Nick smiled. “Good.”

  Chunks of hair puddled around my feet, and as I wielded the scissors, I found it hard to see through the tears that blurred my vision. Regardless, I was resigned to the reality of my situation so I continued chopping off my hair. I was no hairdresser, and once my long hair reached above my shoulders, I stopped. I would need a professional to tidy up the ends, otherwise my hair would look like it had lost the battle with a hacksaw.

  “Nick?” I called out as I walked towards the office he’d shown me earlier. “Nick? I’m done.”

  I peeked in his office, but it was empty, and when I heard male voices coming from another part of the house, I headed that way. Nick’s house was large and I hadn’t seen most of it yet, but the voices became clearer as I drew closer.

  “. . . in an uproar,” a man was saying.

  Not wanting to interrupt, I called out, “Nick?”

  “In here, Morgan.”

  I walked into the room—a spacious area with a couch and a pair of recliners—and froze. A uniformed Enforcer sat on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees. An Enforcer is sitting in Nick’s house. Is he here to take me away? How did he find me already? And why is Nick so calm?

  Out of habit, I reached towards my hair to push it over my shoulder, but all I found was air. Instead, I ran my hand through my shortened hair and took a step back, instinctively wanting to flee.

  “Morgan, this is Josh Mills.”

  Chapter Seven

  Enforcer Mills. The very sight of the man made me want to recoil, but Nick had assured me that Mills worked for him, for the resistance. That made him safe.

  Mills stood and faced me. “How are you?”

  I took a closer look at the man and catalogued his appearance—mid-twenties, thick blonde hair, green eyes, broad shoulders. “I’m okay.”

  “I’m sorry about the way I had to take you down.” He seemed embarrassed, and I wondered how I was supposed to respond. All I knew was what Nick had told me—Mills had sedated DM when he’d caught her after she’d escaped from Holly. I nodded, then realized he was the first person besides Nick to see me, and he obviously assumed I was DM.

  “Join us,” Nick said, gesturing to an empty chair.

  I sat, as did Mills.

  “Josh was just telling me that Holly and her group are in an uproar about your escape and disappearance.” Nick grinned. “I guess they hadn’t expected you to get away.”

  My escape. It was time to start playing my part. “What did Holly say?” It felt strange to talk about someone I’d never met, but who I knew was important to know about—and not to underestimate.

  Mills smiled. “She’s downplaying the way you snatched the controller out of her hand, of course. She knows it makes her look bad.”

  Nick glanced at me before looking at Mills. “Did you see Morgan take it from her?”

  “No. We’d spotted Brynn by then and I was making my way towards her.” Mills glanced at me, then met Nick’s gaze. “When Holly yelled at me to pursue Morgan, I have to say, I was pretty surprised she’d gotten away.” He looked at me. “I almost lost you when you went into that neighborhood, but then I saw you going into that backyard.” He shook his head. “When I pulled you off of the fence, you fought hard.”

  I saw a scratch on his cheek and wondered if DM had caused it. Good for her. She hadn’t known Mills was one of the good guys, and I was sure she’d been terrified.

  “Then you called us and we came and got you and Morgan,” Nick supplied.

  “That’s right.” He glanced around. “Where’s Billy?”

  My gaze went to Nick, who shifted in his seat. “Ah, he’s taking care of some things for me.”

  “I wanted to tell him—and you—something,” Mills said to Nick. “Enforcer Hansen seems to be missing.”

  “Missing?”

  “Yeah. He checked
in this morning like usual, but no one’s seen or heard from him since. And he’s not answering his cell.” Mills paused. “I’m only telling you because Billy told me he’d had some less than pleasant interactions with Hansen, so I thought he’d be interested.”

  “I’ll pass it along,” Nick said.

  Hansen is missing? What was that all about? Fear crept up my spine as I pictured the face of the Enforcer DM had warned me about. Has he gone rogue? Is he searching for me right this minute? Did he follow Mills here? The hair stood up on my arms as I imagined him bursting into Nick’s house and dragging me away. “Are you sure no one followed you here?” I heard myself asking Mills.

  His gaze shot to me, then his eyes narrowed. “I know what I’m doing.”

  I’ll take that as a ‘Yes’.

  “Why don’t you wait for me in the living room, Morgan?” Nick said. “I need to discuss some things with Josh.”

  Obviously dismissed, I nodded, then left the room. Forty minutes later Nick joined me in the living room.

  “You did a decent job on your hair,” he said.

  “About that. I think I need someone who actually knows what she’s doing to finish it up.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, it looks pretty ragged. I’ll call Paula and ask her to come back. She dyed Morgan’s hair to its natural color yesterday.” He frowned. “I’m sure she’ll wonder why your hair looks different from yesterday, but she knows not to ask questions.”

  “Thanks.”

  Nick was quiet for a moment. “You know, Morgan, I’m taking a big chance on you.”

  “What do you mean?” It felt like I was the one taking all the chances. After all, the Enforcers were after me.

  “I’ve only known you for a few hours, yet you’ve learned a lot of confidential information since you’ve been here.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I hope I’m not making the wrong assumptions about where your loyalties lie.”

  What he said was true. For all he knew, I completely agreed with the government and the grip they had on society and I would tell them everything about Nick and his resistance group the moment I left his house. Including that Mills was on the side of the resistance. “No, you’re not making any wrong assumptions.” At least I didn’t think he was.

  Never before had I been faced with choosing sides. All my life I’d followed the rules the government had put into place, never questioning them or objecting to them. That’s just how it was. When Dad had been taken to a F.A.T. Center, I’d felt bad, and I’d known I’d miss him, but I’d also known that there was nothing any of us could do about it. But now there seemed to be another option. Fight the rules. Work to change them.

  A smile slowly grew on my mouth. I, Morgan Campbell, a girl who had never done anything significant, could play a pivotal role in changing everything. “What did you and Mills talk about?”

  “Hmm,” Nick murmured, then he smiled. “Nothing that involves you.”

  He didn’t completely trust me yet. I got that. “What about me? What happens with me now?”

  “I’ll see if Paula can come over right away, then I’ll take you to see your family.”

  My family. I hadn’t seen Dad in weeks, and after witnessing Amy’s actions on the video, I was eager to see her too. And Mom, and my brothers, Zac and Brandon. Even Goldie, our sweet dog. I hoped I’d be able to see her too.

  It didn’t take long for Paula to even out my hair, and like Nick predicted, she didn’t ask questions. Instead we chatted about other things, and when she was done, and Nick had approved my look, he told me it was time to go see my family.

  With a hat pulled low on my head, and the tinted windows on the car, I felt invisible as we drove for over an hour to a house I’d never seen before.

  “What is this place?” I asked as he pulled into the garage.

  “This is a safe house. This is where your family will be living for now.”

  “Safe from what? I thought the Enforcers were after me. Is my family in danger because of me—I mean, you know, that other girl?” Somehow I hadn’t quite understood the ripple effect that DM had set off.

  “Don’t forget that they took Amy in your stead. We had to assume your family was in danger. Not only that, but Morgan requested that I take them somewhere safe.”

  “Oh.” As glad as I was that she’d put my family’s safety at the top of her priority list, it didn’t change the fact that they were only in danger because of her. “Will I be living here?”

  “I think your family would be safer if you’re not around them. At least for now.”

  Having me around will put them in danger? That was a sobering thought.

  “While we shoot the videos it will be better if you’re at my place,” Nick said. “Once we’ve completed those we can discuss what to do next.”

  I didn’t like the way my future felt so uncertain.

  “By the way,” Nick added, “Morgan came here to visit your family two days ago, so it’s not like it’s the first time they’ve seen you since you escaped from the F.A.T. centers.”

  I nodded, then we climbed out of the car and went into the house. The garage brought us into a hallway that led to the bedrooms.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Campbell?” Nick called out as he led us away from the bedrooms.

  “We’re in here,” Dad said.

  When I heard his voice, I rushed past Nick and into the family room, completely forgetting that “I’d” seen him just two days before. “Dad,” I cried as I flung myself into his arms.

  “Hi, Morgan,” he said as he pulled me against him.

  When I leaned away to look at him, I remembered to pretend this wasn’t the first time I’d seen him since he’d been released from whatever F.A.T. center he’d been in. I could tell he’d lost weight, but he looked tired. Is that from worrying about me? Although I had nothing to do with the situation we found ourselves in, as far as he and Mom knew, it was completely because of me. Anger at DM sliced through me, but I pushed it down.

  “Morgan,” Mom said as she opened her arms.

  I hurried to her and relished the warmth of her embrace. Everything felt so strange, so surreal. The last time I’d seen my family, I’d been about to spend a few days at Rochelle’s cabin. So much had happened to them, yet for me only a few days had passed since I’d seen them.

  “You seem stressed, honey,” Mom said as she looked at my face.

  You would be too if you’d recently discovered that another version of you has been impersonating you and screwing up your life, and now you have to deal with the fallout. Hysterical laughter began to climb my throat, but I managed to shove it down.

  “Hi, Morgan,” a voice said beside me.

  I turned to my thirteen-year-old sister and looked at her with new eyes. Was it my imagination, or did she seem older, more mature? “Hey, Amy.”

  We all chatted for a few minutes, then Dad turned to Nick. “We need to talk about the future.”

  “Sure, I understand,” Nick said.

  Dad, Mom, and Nick sat on the couch, then Nick turned to me. “Why don’t you spend some time with your sister and brothers while I talk to your parents?”

  Obviously he wanted to talk to Mom and Dad privately. “Show me your rooms,” I said to ten-year-old Zac and eight-year-old Brandon. They eagerly agreed, and Amy and I followed them down the hall.

  “He wants to talk to Mom and Dad, doesn’t he?” Amy asked.

  I glanced at my sister, a girl who’d experienced things I could only imagine. “Yeah.”

  “I have to share a room with Zac,” Brandon said as we stopped in a room with bunk beds. “But that’s okay. I’m used to it.”

  I smiled at my brother, happy to see he didn’t seem upset about staying in a strange house.

  Goldie came running towards me, and I knelt down to give her a big hug, glad to know she was here with my family.

  “Are you going to stay with us?” Amy asked.

  “Not yet. Nick has some stuff he wants me to help him with.”

>   “Like what?”

  I stood and faced her. “He wants me to make some videos telling what happened.” I felt like such a fraud, but Amy just nodded.

  “Well, I hope you can come visit us at least,” she said.

  “Me too.” As I gazed at my sister, a feeling of love and admiration surged through me. “Thank you,” I said, then reached out and hugged her.

  She returned my embrace. “For what?”

  I pulled away and smiled at her. “For standing up for . . . me . . . at Camp Willowmoss.” I had to get over this feeling that I was lying to everyone around me. Telling them the truth would seem like more of a lie than pretending that I was DM.

  “You would have done the same thing for me,” Amy said with confidence, but I wasn’t so sure.

  I wasn’t as brave as DM, and I never would be.

  Chapter Eight

  When it was time to go, we gathered in the living room to say good-bye.

  “I want to go with Morgan,” Amy said, her voice strong and sure.

  “What?” Dad said.

  “I want to help.” She stared at Dad, like she was daring him to disagree. “I want to be like Morgan. I want to tell people what happened to me. How I hadn’t even done anything wrong, but they still took me to a F.A.T. center.”

  Dad looked at Nick, and Nick nodded, then Dad met Amy’s gaze. “Are you sure about that?”

  “Yes.” Resolve filled her voice.

  I didn’t say anything, but I hoped Dad would allow her to come with us. It would be wonderful to have her at Nick’s with me.

  “Can I talk to you?” Dad said to Nick.

  “Of course,” Nick said, then he, Dad, and Mom, went into the kitchen. Ten minutes later they came back into the living room.

  Dad looked at Amy. “You can go.”

  Amy smiled, but didn’t jump up and down like she’d won anything, and I knew she really had changed.

  “But on one condition,” Dad added.

  “What?”

  “You follow Nick’s instructions at all times. Got it?”

  Amy glanced at Nick, then nodded.