“It has to be me,” Drew says suddenly, taking my arm. “They’ll expect the two of you together.”
Cash doesn’t have time to react before the moment is on us.
“Try to stay out of sight,” Drew whispers to Cash. To me he urges, “Run.”
I rise, running full speed across the path, realizing too late that this was a mistake.
They will kill me.
I don’t have to pretend the fear anymore. It comes easy when the Watchers see me. Easier when they draw their weapons. I spin around, panicked. I don’t want to die this way.
A gun goes off, and I feel the bullet fly past my neck, embedding in a tree. I drop to the ground, my knees slamming to the rocky earth, as another two shots are fired. I will die on the mountain, and I will never see the valley free. I’m reaching for my gun when Drew runs onto the path. His face is red, full of regret. Cash is just behind the tree, his pistol aimed at the Watchers.
“Stop!”
Drew grabs my arm, yanking me to my feet. His arm crosses in front of my shoulders, holding me captive. The other arm is extended, weapon aimed at the Watchers.
“This one’s wanted alive,” he calls to them, his breaths heavy. “Direct order from the Council.”
“She’s outside the fence!” one of the men shouts, he shifts his stance but doesn’t lower his weapon.
Drew points his gun at my head, the barrel pressing to my skull.
“I’ll kill her myself when the order comes,” he says. “But until then, she lives.”
The men inch closer.
“What makes you so special, sweetheart,” one says, sneering.
Workers do not talk to Watchers. Do not look them in the eye.
I look at the ground, because that’s what they’ll expect me to do. The man comes closer until he’s leaning his face to mine. His breath is mint, like Edan. But they’re nothing alike. Edan wouldn’t have looked at me this way.
“You can answer me,” he murmurs. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“That’s enough,” Drew growls, drawing me back a few steps. The man glares at him.
“Who is she?” he demands.
“Her name is Hannah,” Drew says without hesitation. My eyes go wide, my breaths too fast. He’s given me away. “She’s a known accomplice of Cash Gray.”
This intrigues all three Watchers. They glance at each other. “We patrol this path. We’ll get her where she needs to be.”
“She’s my catch,” Drew says. He laughs dryly. “My reward. Not yours.”
All their guns shift to Drew. They aim above me at his head.
“Hand her over,” one says. “Or you don’t leave this mountain.”
“And if you hit her instead of me?”
“I’m a pretty good shot,” the man says, grinning. “I’ll take my chances.”
“Clearly,” Drew mutters. He’s right. They fired three shots, but missed every time.
I lift my eyes to see their faces, and I’m met by three gun barrels only feet from us. I shift past the weapons to their eyes, because sometimes there’s a different person hiding beneath the cruelty. But not this time. I know these men are different, because they don’t wear stern glares or weighty emotions. They grin and sneer, intrigued and hungry to do the wrong thing. My heart beats faster. I feel my gun against my back, and slowly reach for it while the men keep their eyes on Drew. He moves back a fraction to allow me room. My fingers struggle with the layers of fabric, until I’m sweating.
“Why are you protecting her?” one of the men shouts.
“I’m following orders,” Drew replies. “If you value your life, you’ll do the same.”
“Let’s say, just for laughs, that I don’t value my life. What chance do you think you have against the three of us?”
“I’d say my odds are pretty good.”
A shot rings out, and one of the men falls with a yell, grabbing his leg below the knee. Bullets fly through the air, and Drew shoves me hard to the right. I stumble several feet before my hands land hard on a tree root. I turn fast just as Cash slams his fist to the head of the man with the wounded leg. The man’s eyes roll back, and he falls. Drew is wrestling with the second man, their guns on the ground. The third man is running toward me.
I scramble back a few feet, then remember my gun. Yanking it from the band on my waist, I pull the slide back and raise it, squeezing my eyes before pulling the trigger. The sound is deafening, and when the ringing stops, the mountain is strangely silent.
I open my eyelids slow, and there is the man, crumpled on the ground, blood staining the snow near his chest. The other Watchers are knocked out, and Cash and Drew stare at me, their chests heaving from the fight. I drop the gun and scramble backward until I’m against a tree. Eyes wide, I stare shocked at the dead man.
Dead. By my hands.
You didn’t have a choice, I tell myself. But my body won’t accept it. I shake, unable to tear my gaze from the thing I just did.
Cash walks toward me slow, but stops short three feet away. Crouching to level our eyes, he says my name. I think. I think he says my name. My gaze shifts to him for a second, then back to the man.
“I didn’t mean to kill him,” I whisper. The night Edan rescued me, he took down three Watchers in a matter of seconds…but none of them died. When we reentered the valley, Cash spared the lives of the Watchers who killed the fence guards. He sent them back, because in a place where death is common, killing must be the last resort. Drew kneels by the man and checks his pulse. His expression tightens, and he and Cash share a look.
“Listen to me, Hannah,” Cash says slowly. “You did what you had to to survive. He left you no choice.”
I drag in a slow breath, the cold air freezing my throat. I push it out slow through a crack between my lips. Gradually, my heart slows. Dragging my gaze from the dead man to Cash’s face is hard. I try to imagine a different outcome. But against a soldier, muscled and unfeeling…maybe the gun was my only option.
“It was you or him,” Cash is saying. “He chose his path.”
“I know,” I say quietly. When I move to stand, Cash straightens and closes the space between us. His hand grips my elbow, and he helps me up.
“I’m sorry,” Drew says, lifting his gaze slow to meet mine. His expression is sad…full of regret. “I put your life at risk.” His head shakes. “I should never have told you to run.”
“We’re alive,” I say, trying not to let my gaze bounce to the man bleeding out on the ground. “You did what you had to.”
Drew’s head shakes. “It was a bad move.” His whole body is tense from the stress.
“We need to keep going,” Cash says, lifting my gun from the ground. He takes my hand, setting the weapon across my palm. His hand doesn’t move for a few seconds, and our eyes meet.
I don’t mean for my gaze to drift down when we step around the man on the ground. His face looks kind in death. The wickedness is smoothed away, and all that’s left is the shell of a man who could have been different, had he tried. Sadness creeps up my throat. He may have left me no choice, but I’m not glad to see him dead.
Cash sets a hand on Drew’s shoulder. Looking hard in his eyes, he says, “You were brave. No soldier gets it right every time.”
“You wouldn’t be saying that if she was dead.”
Cash presses his lips tight for a moment, then says, “She isn’t dead. Thanks to you.”
18
The sound of the gunshot echoes in my skull while we walk. I never wanted to be a killer. Maybe I’m not because I didn’t want it—maybe the wanting is the difference.
Occasionally Cash sets his hand on my back to guide me, and I get the feeling he just wants to make contact—to bear it together because he knows regret is eating me alive.
The temperature has dropped by the time we reach the fence door. I ache from shivering in these threadbare clothes. We crouch behind a line of bushes and check the area. Cash recognizes some faces as loyal to the resistan
ce. One or two aren’t, which leaves us with only one option.
“They don’t know your face,” Cash says to Drew. “The men at the door are loyal to us, but the two beyond will give us trouble. You need to distract them.”
“Got it,” Drew says, chewing his mouth. He stares off toward the guards and pushes out a long breath. His shoulders and jawline are tense.
After looking in every direction, he runs low toward the woods. A minute later, he emerges walking tall from the other side of the trail, several yards from us. We watch as he ambles toward the door, a cocky arrogance in his steps.
I can’t hear what he says to the door guards; they speak in low voices. I only catch small sounds passing between them. The other guards have noticed Drew, but they don’t approach. The door is opened, and Drew walks through. The soldier manning the door pulls it shut, but doesn’t lock it. His eyes scan the trees, passing over our hiding place more than once.
“Be ready,” Cash murmurs, gaze following Drew’s movements.
Drew continues into the street, not glancing once at the other soldiers. He adapts well to his role, and no one seems to suspect him. He disappears in the shadows, reappearing a few seconds later when he passes under a street lamp just before he enters an alley. My heart is a thumping knot. I can’t tear my eyes from the gaping darkness that swallowed him.
A minute passes, and nothing. Cash is motionless beside me; I can barely hear our breaths. If we blow this, we won’t get in, and Drew will be captured or killed. If we don’t get in, how many Watchers will die when the army comes? This moment is everything. My eyes burn, and finally I blink.
A jolt of panic hits me when Drew appears, running full speed from the alley. He stumbles, then regains his balance, swinging an arm to get attention. Hunching over, he presses a hand to his knee. With the other, he points in the direction he ran from. His mouth is moving, and it looks like he’s trying to get help.
“Tell me this is an act,” I say under my breath.
The two guards farthest from the fence share a look. One starts toward Drew, and static fills my ears when he raises his rifle. After a few seconds, the other guard follows.
Drew straightens, dragging in deep breaths and pointing, and whatever he says next makes the guards run toward the alley. Drew follows close behind.
We wait in the freezing air while slow clouds puff from our mouths and noses. After a full minute, and without tearing my gaze from the alley, I grab a handful of Cash’s sleeve. My lips press into each other, and my breaths are deliberate. Drew is clever. There’s a plan here. I know it.
“Come on,” Cash mutters. Then he says it again, so quiet I barely hear the words.
When Drew appears under the lamp light, I close my eyes and exhale.
We rise from our hiding place just as the door guards turn to see. They watch us approach, and I bite my lip, warring with thoughts that say these men might betray us.
We slip through, and the door is shut and locked. No escape. A burst of fear hits my chest, spreading hot through my body. But I chose this.
“Where are they?” I say when we reach Drew. We stand in the darkness by a wall. Drew’s grin is smug.
“On a scavenger hunt,” he says. “But they won’t be long. We need to move.”
One of the door guards jogs over. I don’t mean to stare when his face is illuminated by moonlight, but he’s young. Childhood is still leaving his features. He might be sixteen, but barely. Drew and I share confused looks.
“We’re on duty another two hours,” the boy says. “Try to get back before then.”
Cash sets a hand on the boy’s shoulder. The young soldier’s eyes light up, and his posture straightens. It’s so earnest, I have to look away. Something in his features reminds me of Edan.
“We couldn’t have done this without you,” Cash says. “Make your way south as soon as you’re able. You’ll be safer there.”
Relief. That’s the emotion drawn across the boy’s face. He nods, swallowing hard and saying Yes, sir. There’s new energy in his steps when he returns to his post. I don’t try to ask his name. That’s what I do for the dying, and this boy will live. He has to.
Cash takes my hand, and we rush farther down the wall, where the corner meets a main road. Before reaching it, we stop under a fire escape, and Cash leans close to whisper.
“Keep your eyes on the ground,” he says to me. “They won’t expect you to fight him, so it’s important you do everything Drew says. Remember, they have to believe you’re still conditioned to fear them.”
“I have lots of practice,” I murmur, smiling to ease the stress. Cash nods, his gaze stuck somewhere below my eyes. After a few beats, his eyebrows lower, and he exhales.
“Five blocks up, on the left,” he says, glancing at Drew, then back. “There’s a door on the west side of the building, in the center. I’ll be just inside.”
“You got it,” Drew says. “See you in twenty.”
Cash pulls his knit cap lower, pushing wisps of blond hair under the fabric. His hair has grown in the last weeks, and the cap barely conceals it. I worry over him the most. Cash stands out, and everyone seems to know his face. He’ll have to stay in the shadows, slinking along the dark walls, stepping over Outcasts.
One more look at me, and our hands slide apart. I don’t turn away until he’s out of sight.
“Our turn,” Drew says. Some of the ease has returned to his face, and I’m glad. This place swallows joy until all that’s left are brittle bones. We take a step, but Drew stops.
“I’m sorry in advance,” he says. “For whatever happens.”
“Let’s go,” I say. This was my idea. He owes me nothing.
We turn the corner, and Drew holds my bicep. I slow my pace so he has to pull me. Face to the ground, I try not to glance at the soldiers standing at their posts. They’ll be suspicious if our eyes meet.
With my gaze down, I can still see the legs of Outcasts lying along the crumbling walls. I hear their labored breathing and quiet moans escaping their lips. I don’t want to look, but I can’t stop myself.
Their blue lips hang open. Five bodies rest against one another, and all their eyes are closed. Their chests are moving—death hasn’t taken them yet. But it won’t be long. An ache fills me, radiating through my body. I can’t do anything but see them, and that isn’t enough.
“Pick your feet up,” Drew snarls. From the corner of my eye I see a Watcher standing just a few feet away at the corner of the first street we pass. I make my steps faster.
We walk another three blocks without incident. As I assumed, no one bothers Drew when he appears to be dealing with a Worker. There’s a deep ache growing in my arm, where his fingers grip around my small muscle. It will bruise, I can already tell. But I won’t let him know. It would only add to the guilt he feels.
A large figure steps in front of us. For a second I forget myself, and my eyes drift upward. He’s the largest Watcher I’ve seen, taller than Cash by almost a foot. I don’t mean to gape, and when his gaze flicks down to mine, I quickly look at the ground.
“Where are you taking her?” His low voice says. Drew doesn’t miss a beat.
“Back to her unit,” he says. “She just finished at the medic, sir.”
“What’s the injury?”
“Sprained wrist. She’ll live.”
“I don’t see any wrappings,” the burly man says, lifting my free arm and pushing back the sleeve of my coat. I fake a wince.
“Supplies were low.” Annoyance creeps into his tone, and I hope the Watcher doesn’t catch it. There’s a long silence, and my heart beats harder.
“I don’t believe you,” the Watcher says. I clench my teeth to keep from reacting. My head tries to turn upward to see Drew’s face, but I resist it. We’re no match for this man.
“You know what I think?” he continues.
“Sir?” Drew says. The man steps closer. I feel the way he glowers without lifting my face.
“I think your head ha
s been turned. Tell me, soldier, why I shouldn’t lock you up. You know the rules.”
Drew’s pulse surges in his fingertips, drumming against my arm.
“With respect, sir, I’m taking her back to her unit. Nothing more.”
“I’ll take her,” the man says, before he grabs my arm and pulls me to his side. Drew’s hand slips from reach.
“I can do it,” Drew says. I stare at him. “I remember where she lives.”
“Get back to your post, boy. Before I change my mind and throw you in a cell.”
Drew looks at me hard, his lips pressed in a tight line. He’s trying to say things to me, maybe reassure me that he’ll figure this out. But I don’t see a way. The man’s fingers dig into my arm, too tight over the tender places already formed by Drew’s grip.
“Go!” the Watcher barks. Drew opens his mouth like he might say something, but nothing comes out. I feel my heartbeat everywhere, fear pumping like poison through my blood.
Drew’s back retreats into the shadows. He walks the wrong way, in the direction we came from. I can’t pull in a full breath.
“Come with me,” the soldier says, turning us the other way. I take two steps to match his one. The air is suddenly colder, the night somehow much more bleak and dark. Soon this man will realize that I don’t have a home here anymore. Then it occurs to me, maybe he doesn’t have to know.
“Where do you live?” he demands. I say nothing at first. That’s what he’ll expect of me. He jerks my arm up, and pain shoots past my elbow. I stare frightened at his face. He might have been handsome once, but now there are too many frown lines.
“I require answers when I ask questions,” he growls.
“Tower fifteen,” I say, my voice breathy and small. Anger fills me when I hear it. This sensation is new, boiling out of a part of me only recently explored. I’m tired of playing the victim to these kinds of men.
“Move,” he says. I’m shoved forward, his hand squeezing tighter.
The walk is long, several blocks from where I’m supposed to be. I tell myself that Drew will find Cash. He will go there first, and maybe Cash will know where to look for me. There is only one place in this corner of the valley that I’d presume to call home.
Hero (Book Two) Page 11
