Free Higher Ground by Becky Black Page B

died. The battery warning showed red on the handlebar display. Hell.
    “Zach?”
    He looked up to see a familiar vehicle pulling in to park beside him. Taking a deep breath, he ran a hand through his hair in a vain attempt to tidy it up and smiled at the driver.
    “Hello, Adam.”
    “Are you okay?” Adam asked, getting out of the truck.
    “Fine,” Zach said, though he feared there might be much evidence to the contrary; his cheeks burned, and his hair, unruly at the best of times, was a disaster. Running his hand through it again only made it worse.
    “Adam, will you help me, please?” He had no right to ask, he knew, after the way he’d acted last night and this morning. But he was desperate.
    “Of course.” Adam frowned. “Ah, I mean, what do you want help with?”
    “A ride. My bike’s battery is flat.”
    “Back to the Institute?”
    Zach shook his head. “No. Do you know where Professor Korrie lives?”
    “Korrie? Yes, I think so.”
    “Would you please take me there right away?”
    Adam hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “Not exactly department business, but what the hell? Chuck your bike in the bed.”
    “Thank you so much.”
    Zach found a box of sandwiches on the dash when he climbed in and remembered he hadn’t eaten all day.
    “May I have one of these?”
    “Knock yourself out,” Adam said. Zach demolished the whole boxful as Adam drove out of town.
    “I’m sorry about last night and this morning,” Zach said as he ate. “I have no right to expect you to help me after that. But this is more important.” He grimaced when Adam frowned at him. Yes, more important than their budding relationship, however harsh that sounded.
    “Is it about those test results of yours?” Adam asked. “The ones you told me to pack a bag because of?”
    “Yes.”
    “I’m told you busted into a senior staff meeting.”
    “Yes. And I just forced my way into Ms. Johnson’s office.”
    “That really doesn’t seem like a good idea.”
    Zach shook his head. “You’ll understand when we get to Korrie’s. I’ll explain then.”
    Adam sighed and shook his head. “Okay. But you know none of this is going to make them likely to renew your contract.”
    Zach laughed. His tension and tiredness made it close to hysteria, and Adam gave him a look of alarm. Calming himself, Zach rubbed his eyes. “In a few days, none of that is going to matter. I have to send a message.”
    An idea had hit him suddenly as they drove through the town and he saw people on the street and children playing outside the school. He’d tried to convince those at the top to listen to him. But there might be another approach. He took out his Link.
    “Adam, if you wanted to have a large public meeting, where would you hold it?”
    “A public meeting? I guess the plaza, or if you wanted to be undercover, the B dome.”
    “Ah, yes, good.” He started to tap on his screen.
    “Thinking of running for office? I don’t think the next council elections are for six months.”
    They would never happen. Zach kept typing. The B dome made sense. He’d use the platform the schoolchildren had performed on at the recital, which seemed like a hundred years ago. Ideal. He wouldn’t be able to arrange for chairs, would have to do without.
    He glanced to the side, at Adam’s tanned, bare forearms with more of his many freckles and the fine hairs that caught the sun. But the glance only lasted a second. He couldn’t think about Adam now. He opened the messaging program and started to type. He ate the last sandwich as he composed the message and drank some water. He’d like coffee. He needed coffee.
    Adam kept giving him odd looks. He even spoke a couple of times, but Zach barely grunted in reply. He had to get this message out. He avoided too much detail, hoped leaving the threat mysterious might intrigue people enough. Then he feared it was too vague and added a last line to the message.
    If you value your lives and the lives of your