The Queer Rebels

Chapter 17: Hacking

I squint at Harry, still groggy, my brain trying to catch up. "What?"

"Get dressed and come with me. I'll explain on the way."

I glance back at Marcy, who stirs in the bed. With a nod, I close the door and quickly get ready, my mind abuzz with possibilities.

What does Harry have in store for me? Does it have something to do with his plan?

I get dressed in the dark and tiptoe towards the door, wondering if Harry has a pen so I can leave a note for Marcy. But before I reach it, Marcy turns over.

"Where are you going?" she asks, her voice husky with sleep.

"I didn't mean to wake you." I kiss the top of her head, not sure what to say. Not sure what I'm allowed to say. "I, um, am just going for a walk."

I hate lying. But this is more of a half-truth than an outright lie, right?

"Where?" She squints her eyes, confused.

I glance around the dark room, trying to think of a plausible excuse. Something innocuous. My eyes land on a half-full water bottle. "Looking for a snack. Be back soon, okay?"

"Mmm," she mumbles and turns over, believing me. Going back to sleep.

When she wakes up, is she going to freak-out that I'm still gone? Should I have told her that I was going with Harry?

I swallow away my doubt as I move to the door and shut it behind me. Harry, who's leaning against the wall, pushes himself back up.

"Let's go," he says, starting to walk.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask, hoping the words don't sound too rude.

"You'll see," Harry says with a smirk.

I don't know how to interpret his smile. Is he going to tell me more about his plan? Tell me more about what he's thinking? Has he figured out more since we spoke yesterday?

"Is this about the plan?" I push.

"Shh." Harry shoots me a look. Then he holds up one finger and motions around towards the ceiling and walls. "Someone could overhear."

I nod, chastened, but still curious. Why did I leave Marcy? Why did I lie to her? Will it be worth it?

Harry leads me down a hallway to a service elevator I'd never seen before. He presses a button labeled SB3 and after the door closes, the elevator begins a slow descent.

My mind flips through a deck full of possibilities.

I'm not ready to act.

Don't know enough.

When the elevator doors slide open, my gut reflexively clinches. It's like we've been transported to the Choosing Day center.

We are greeted by rows of green-vinyl cushioned chairs. Bright linoleum floors reflect the beaming fluorescent lights above. A clock ticks away above an empty nurse's station.

Looking at me, Harry lets out a small chuckle. "Don't worry, we're still in the compound. We just, um, acquired these chairs from a truck that had been headed to the city."

I nod and step forward, still feeling a buzz of anticipation in my stomach as I look around. It's just so eerily familiar.

"What is this place?" I ask. "Can you please tell me what we're doing?"

"This is the compound's clinic," Harry explains.

"Where is everyone?" I glance around at the empty chairs.