“You want me to tell you everything,” she says, “but you won’t even admit to who you are. Why should I trust you with what I know?”
“Is that what it’s gonna take?” I ask.
“It is.”
“Fine.” I swallow hard. Just thinking the words, let alone saying them, is painful. “I’m Theodore LaGrange, and my father is the President of what’s left of the United States. Happy now?”
“Not really, but glad you aren’t going to keep pretending.”
“No one can know who I am,” I say darkly. “If they did, they wouldn’t trust me anymore. If they don’t trust me, I can’t help them.”
“Is that what thieving does? Help people?”
“I’m not a thief,” I tell her. “I’m the head of lost and found.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I find things people have lost. You know, the things they need but can’t find. I find them, and I give them to the people who need them.”
“So, what…”—she pauses and narrows her eyes at me—“you’re playing Robin Hood? Is that it?”
“Again with the literary references.” I click my tongue at her. “If you’re going to keep trying to pass yourself off as a Naught, you’re going to have to stop that.”
“Way to dodge the question.”
“Just sayin’.” I tilt my head at her.
“Is that really what you do?” she asks. “Give away all the stuff you steal?”
“Most of it. I always trade though. I don’t give it away. If I gave it away, people would be suspicious, and I wouldn’t get what I need. Naughts also have their pride, and they won’t always accept something for nothing. It makes them distrustful. This way, I can steal things that won’t be missed by Thaves but are invaluable to Naughts, and I get what I need to live.”
“But you don’t like having any competition,” she says. “There are things I need, too.”
“I couldn’t let you take those things,” I tell her. “I couldn’t let you take batteries and coins. People would have noticed. If they notice what you take, they’ll pay more attention to their inventory. I would be discovered. If I’m discovered, how am I going to help the Naughts in Plastictown?”
“You haven’t been paying attention,” she mutters.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Later.” She shakes her head. “I should tell you about this place first.”
“Fine.” I cross my arms and try not to be too annoyed about her leading the conversation in another direction.
Aerin takes a deep breath and runs her hands through her hair before she starts to speak.
“This complex is called Rock Mountain, and it used to be kind of a sister location to Mount Weather—science based, not military based.”
“How do you know about it?”
“My mother is a geologist. She worked here.”
“When?”
“About thirty years ago,” she says. “It was before I was born. She told me all about this place, and she gave me a map to find the back entrance, which is where we came in.”
“That’s how you knew the combination?”
“Yes.”