An old-fasioned glider made of wood sits in the center of the room. The bloodhound leaps onto the chair, shaking it so violently it almost tips over.
“Have a seat,” the man says as he changes into his indoor shoes. “Let’s have a look at that ankle.”
My eyes widen. He’s going to treat my injury…before tasing me? Or does this mean he plans to let us go?
I sit on the sofa. The man digs his fingers into a small jar of salve and smears it on my ankle. “This stuff is like magic. You’ll be walking in no time.” He peers at me and then blinks. “Betsy here didn’t scare you, did she?”
The bloodhound barks, jumping off the glider and trotting over to her owner.
I cough. “Her name is Betsy? Did you know she’s a dead ringer for a ComA hound?”
“She should be.” The man screws the lid on the salve and gets to his feet. “I’m the one who breeds them.”
Logan and I exchange a glance. “You work for ComA?” he asks.
“I’m not one of them, if that’s what you’re wondering,” the man says. “My name’s Potts, and I sell ComA my hounds. No more, no less. I don’t snitch to them, and they don’t do me any favors.”
Betsy wanders over to a plant and begins nosing through the soil. Potts snaps his fingers and she dashes back to his side again.
“I’ve seen them patrolling around the city, every night for the last week or so. Looking for vagrants trying to get around without using their IDs. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“No, sir,” Logan stutters. “My girlfriend and me, we were hiking in the woods, and we kinda got lost.”
“Hmmm.” Potts rubs his face. His hands leave behind a sticky residue in his whiskers. “Isn’t it a school day?”
“We skipped,” I say. “We’re about to turn seventeen, and we wanted one last day together before we get our memories.”
Logan slides his hand around my back. My heart drops. I forgot about the tattoo on his wrist, right under his plant bracelet. One glimpse of the hourglass and Potts will know I’m lying. As casually as I can, I shift forward, shielding his wrist with my body.
“That’s very interesting.” Potts settles his large body onto the glider. “Because you see, I’ve been hearing rumors that some people might be disappearing off the grid. Running off to live in some community hidden in the woods. Don’t know if it’s true or not, but I’ve got to tell you, ComA’s been awfully interested.”
“That’s just a tale,” Logan blurts out. “Like that community in the mountains. I’ve heard talk about it for years, but it doesn’t really exist.”
Potts narrows his eyes. “Are you so sure about that, young man?”
“Well, yeah,” Logan says. “Why would ComA allow a hidden community to exist all these years, without doing anything about it, if there was any truth to the rumors?”
“Maybe because this community was never ruled by the ComA government. Maybe these mountain people have been living together, in their way of life, even before the Boom. They want nothing to do with us and our technological ways, so maybe ComA sees no cause to get rid of them.” Potts folds his hands over his belly.
For a moment, all I hear is the swish-swish-swish of the glider. And then Potts clears his throat. “On the other hand, I hear this wilderness community might be formed by people running away from TechRA. Psychics that are very interesting to them, particularly now. So I’d say the situation’s a little different, wouldn’t you?”
Logan and I exchange a look. Betsy’s roaming around the room again, and the glider continues swishing. If Potts doesn’t mean us any harm, maybe this is our cue to leave.
I clear my throat. “Thank you for your hospitality, sir, but we need to get going. Our parents will worry.”
“Is that so?” Something flickers across Potts’s face. He gets out of the chair, snapping his fingers for Betsy to follow. “Wait here a minute. I have something for you.”
Whistling a cheerful tune, he leaves the room, the bloodhound bounding after him.
As soon as they’re out of sight, I turn to Logan. “Did you hear that? They know about Harmony.”
“They don’t know. They suspect, but they don’t know anything for sure.”
“It’s not such a big leap from suspecting to investigating. I know the hologram projection keeps out casual intruders. But how good is it if they make a targeted search?”
He chews the inside of his cheek.