The Lofties (The Echelon Book 2)

by Ramona Finn

  “Ben? Is that—?”

  “Myla.” He bent over me, mask askew, and tore the cloth off my face. “You’re okay. Try to breathe.”

  I sucked in one whistling breath, then another. I clutched at him, wanting to feel him, to feel he was real. He pulled me into his arms and I held on tight, gasping into his neck. “How did you find us?”

  “We heard Lock on the radio. Traced the signal back here.” Ben pulled back, peering past me. “Where is he? Did he—?”

  “He’s alive. In the caves.” I saw the Decemites were fleeing, four of them scattered across the plain. My hand went to my head, and I shuddered. I tried to call his face to mind, the one I’d run over, but I just saw his death, his body tumbling under my wheels. He’d had a name—

  “Ben. The truck—oh. Hey, Myla.” Lita flipped up her mask, winked at me, and pulled it back down. I cringed without meaning to, but she didn’t seem to notice. “They gutted us,” she said. “That one that got under us, he cut our fuel line. I can fix it, but it’ll be a while. You guys should take the buggy back to camp. I’ll come when I’m done.”

  Ben nodded. “That’s fine. Just don’t take too long.” He turned toward the caves, grinning behind his mask. “Hey, Lock. I was wondering when you’d show. You missed the whole—whoa. You okay?”

  “Lock?” I darted past Ben, stumbling to Lock’s side. He was standing, by some miracle, all loose-limbed and pale. I got an arm around his waist and felt him sway against me. Ben’s gaze darted between us, his brow knit in consternation.

  “What happened to him? He looks awful.”

  “Lazrad deactivated his nanobots,” I said. “We were spying for Reyland. We got caught. We thought we got away clean, but...”

  “He really looks terrible.” Ben started forward, just as Lock’s knees gave out. He dropped gracelessly to all fours, retching up bile. I held him, felt him trembling, felt the muscles spasming in his gut. He moaned, thin and broken, and I caught him as he crumpled.

  “Too—fast,” he choked. “’S all happening... too...” His eyes went hazy, and he slumped against my chest.

  “We need to help him.” I turned to Ben, pleading. “He needs gretha. A mask. He can’t breathe.”

  “Get him in the back,” said Lita. “I’ll grab a tank from the truck.”

  I lifted Lock with an effort. He was dead weight in my arms, long limbs dragging in the dirt. His shirt was soaked through, filmy with sweat. I laid him out across the back seat and cradled his head in my lap. His hand twitched when I took it, but he didn’t wake. Ben pulled his eyelid back and frowned.

  “How long has he been like this?”

  “Not long. It just hit him like a freight train, like—”

  “Get this on him.” Lita hopped up beside us and fixed a mask over Lock’s face. Gretha hissed as she connected the tank, and I felt Lock’s chest hitch. “He’s a good guy,” said Lita. “For a Decemite, I mean.” She went to jump down, but I caught her by the wrist.

  “Lita.”

  “Huh?”

  “About Derrick.” I couldn’t look at her. I stared at my own hands instead, where my nail polish had chipped away. “We found him at your old camp. He was—”

  “I know.” Lita took back her hand, but she stayed where she was. She stood breathing hard, head turned toward the Spire. “They came at night. We were sleeping. It was chaos—trailers burning, everyone running. Everyone screaming. I thought he was right behind me, but... But he never caught up. So I knew.” Her breath caught in her throat.

  “We brought him home,” I said. “Left him in the mines. We thought he’d be... safe down there.” It sounded stupid, said out loud, but Lita reached out and squeezed my hand.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I didn’t like to think of him out there, just forgotten. So, thanks.” She let me go, slapped the buggy, and Ben gunned the engine. More Outsiders piled in, faces I didn’t recognize, crowding into the front seat and stretching out in back. Some of them eyed us curiously, and some with disdain. One of them offered me a water bottle, and I took it and wet Lock’s lips. He didn’t react.

  “You in there?” I pulled his mask back down and stroked his hair, hating its coarse, spiky feel. He’d never worn it that way, shorn close to his head. It made him look younger, all awkward and smooth. “Just hold on. Hold on. If you can hear me, hold on.”

  The buggy lurched and jolted, and we were on our way. Lock’s body jerked with every bump, his mouth falling open under his mask. I held him tighter and prayed he couldn’t feel it—that wherever he was, he was beyond pain.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The drive stretched forever, Lock limp in my arms, Ben hunched over the wheel. We arrowed northwest, away from the mountains. The creek joined a riverbed, arid in the dry season, and Ben followed it down the valley. Lock moaned and shivered, but he didn’t open his eyes.

  “Not far now,” said Ben. “He’ll be better inside, out of the atmosphere.”

  “You think?” I twined my fingers with Lock’s, held on tight. Ben glanced back, frowning.

  “It makes sense, right? Out here, he’s fighting on two fronts, his own body and the air. In there, he can breathe free. Wash the poison off his skin.”

  Lock made a choking sound. I swallowed fear. I could see the base now, a cluster of houses in the neck of the river valley. They stood, low and moss-roofed, around a cobbled square. A wavery dome shimmered over them, thin as a heat haze.

  “That’s keeping the air clean?”

  “Mostly.” Ben’s grip tightened on the wheel. “We couldn’t get enough projectors. It’s still breathable, though. Especially if you stay indoors.” He swung the buggy toward the gates, where the track widened to a road. Pale lamps lit our way, powered by oil instead of gretha.

  Ben slowed, closing in, and a guard rose to greet him.

  “When do we rest?”

  “When the earth breathes. Let us through.”

  The gates swung open, and Ben drove through the square, past the cookfires and sheep pens, around behind the houses. He parked the buggy under an awning and jumped down to let me out.

  “You need help with him?”

  I swung Lock over my shoulders. “Just show me where to take him.”

  “Up there.” He jerked his thumb at the nearest house. Up close, it looked ancient, windows rippled with age. “Second room on the right, there’s a bed. You get him settled. I’ll go find help.”

  I did as Ben said, and I found the bed easily enough. It was narrow and hard, but Lock sighed in something like relief, turned his face to the pillow. I eased his mask off, and he opened his eyes.

  “Lock?”

  His lips moved, but no words came. He reached for me, past me, for something beyond me. His eyes bulged, unfocused, and fluttered shut.

  “What is it? What do you need?” I looked where he’d pointed and saw a shelf full of blankets, coarse woolen things, gray with age. I got one down and spread it over him. His skin still felt cold, so I got another and another. I bundled him in, covering him all the way to his chin.

  “Okay to come in?” Ben poked his head through the door. I waved him over, and an older woman clutching a doctor’s bag came with him. “This is Livia,” said Ben. “She’s our medic.”

  “Where’s Jasper?”

  “He went with Starkey.” Ben guided me to the window, making room for Livia. “We split up after you left. This way, if they find us, they can’t kill us all. Not all at once, at least.” He glanced at my feet, and his lips quirked up. “Where are your shoes? What are you wearing?”

  “We had to leave in a hurry.” I craned past him, needing to see. Livia was bent over Lock, drawing blood from his arm. His eyes were open and frightened, darting back and forth. Ben moved between us, blocking my view.

  “Still, without even shoes? I didn’t notice, at first, your feet are so black.”

  “My feet?” I looked down at myself, at the ruins of my finery. My dress hung in tatters, caked with dirt and blood and rust
. I had mud-boots on, all the way to my knees. My left sleeve was gone, and my wrist—

  “My bracelet.”

  “Huh?” Ben’s brows went up. I clutched at my wrist.

  “My bracelet, with the smiley face.” I snatched at my other sleeve, already knowing what I’d find—or rather, what I wouldn’t. It was gone, Ona’s bracelet, lost in the desert or drowned in the reservoir. Or Lazrad had gotten it, when she’d grabbed for my wrist. Had I felt something then? A snap? The slide of leather?

  Lock cried out in pain. I shouldered past Ben and raced to his side.

  “What are you doing to him?”

  “Nothing now.” Livia held up an empty syringe. “I gave him a vitamin shot, but that’s all I can do. His nanobots aren’t working. Without them, he’ll die.”

  “There’s nothing you can do?” I leaned over the bed, tugging Lock’s covers to his chin. “You can’t give him gretha? Or—or, Jasper had his own nanobots. You can’t give him those till we get his online?”

  Livia sighed. “Gretha wouldn’t help him. Oxygen’s better, but he’s got plenty of that.” She peeled off her gloves and dropped them in the wastebasket. “As for Jasper’s nanobots, you’d have to ask him. But last I heard, they didn’t work.”

  I clenched my teeth, fighting nausea. “So, how long? How long till he’s—?”

  “A few days, maybe. No longer.”

  I managed a stiff nod, throat closed tight. Lock had passed out, or he was resting. His skin had a bruised look where his mask had dug in. His lips were cracked at the corners, raw and wet. Ben came up behind me, and I willed him not to touch me, not here, not now. He cleared his throat instead.

  “We’ll be outside,” he said. “Aunt Jetha will be back soon, so come find us when you’re ready.”

  I waited till the bedroom door clicked shut, and the outside door beyond it. Then, I stretched out beside Lock. I laid my head on his chest and listened to his heart. His pulse was weak, more a whoosh than a beat, and I felt for his hand under the covers.

  “You’re so cold,” I whispered. I felt Lock turn his head. His chin brushed my crown, his breath ruffling my hair.

  “Cold.” His hand twitched in mine. “Warmer now.”

  “Don’t try to talk.” I pressed as close as I could, sharing my warmth. Lock’s shivering eased, and I felt his breathing settle. His hand slackened in mine, and I knew he was asleep.

  “Remember when you held me like this?” I stroked his palm, feeling the calluses there. “Down in the vent, when I’d used up everything I had. You kept me safe. Let me sleep.”

  Lock made a sound, half-hum, half-snore. He shifted against me, nuzzling into my hair.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I should’ve known, dragging you into this— If I’d just told you no, gone to Reyland on my own...” I sniffed and blinked. “I just wanted you with me, wanted someone by my side. Feels like so long, I’ve been going it alone. I thought with you there—” I buried my face in his shoulder. I felt numb inside, like his chill had crept into me.

  “It’s my fault you’re like this.”

  Lock lay quiet, submerged in sleep. I let his silence and the thin rasp of his breathing accuse me. Tears stung my eyes, and I closed them. I lay and listened to Lock’s heartbeat till I dozed off myself. When I woke, the sky was red, the sun going down over the valley. Lock was still sleeping, curled into my side. I stood up and left him there, careful not to disturb him.

  “You should be home,” I said. “Somewhere safe, with your family. You never deserved this.”

  Lock murmured in his sleep. I turned and fled, my guilt threatening to smother me. I ran out into the sunset and into Ben’s arms. He caught me as I stumbled and steadied me on my feet.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” I stepped back, self-conscious, brushing at my skirts. “Were you waiting for me?”

  “No. Sort of. Yes.” He turned away from me, a strange expression on his face. “I’m glad you’re here. When you left, part of me thought I’d never see you again.”

  When I’d left. It felt like just yesterday I’d kissed Ben goodbye. Just yesterday, and in another lifetime. I knew I should say something, but nothing came to mind. I closed my eyes instead, and I saw Lock down the mine, laid out in Derrick’s place. A sick chill coursed through me. I’d never do that to Lock, never bury him in the dirt. I’d take him up the mountains, past the snow line, to the sun. I’d leave him there, where the pines could keep vigil.”

  “Nothing’s changed for me,” said Ben. “What I felt for you then, I still feel it now.” He didn’t say the rest—that he could see my feelings had changed—but I heard it in his tone, in that subtle resignation. Guilt closed my throat, and I couldn’t breathe. I still cared for him—of course I did—but everything had changed. What had once felt clear and simple now felt tangled beyond recognition.

  “Your friend—” Ben touched my arm. I snapped back to myself as abruptly as though he’d slapped me. I pulled away without meaning to, and Ben looked stricken.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I’m on edge, is all. Is Jetha back yet?”

  “About half an hour ago. But—”

  “I need to see her.” I drew myself up, shaking off the cobwebs. “Lock didn’t throw his life away for nothing. We found something, spying for Reyland. Something that could help you.”

  Ben exhaled sharply. His eyes had gone flat, maybe with disappointment, maybe just from the sun going down. “She’s unloading the trucks,” he said, already turning away. “They just came from a swap meet. Go inside and I’ll bring her to you.”

  “Ben?” I started after him, but he picked up his pace, hurrying across the square. I let him go. I’d hurt him, I knew, but now wasn’t the time. I swallowed my guilt and headed back inside, back to Lock’s bedside and his slow, labored breathing.

  “It wasn’t for nothing,” I told him. “I won’t let it be.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ben was quick, true to his word. I’d just dragged a chair to Lock’s bedside when I heard them in the hall, two sets of footsteps, Ben’s and Jetha’s. I stood to greet them and held my hand out to shake.

  “Myla.” Jetha gripped my hand and pumped it twice. “You’ve been working with Reyland?”

  I nodded. “Me and Lock.”

  Jetha bent over him and pressed her palm to his forehead. “Brave boy.” She frowned. “Starkey should be here. Jasper, too. But it wasn’t safe any longer, all of us in one place.”

  “I know. Ben told me.” I sat down, feeling tired. “We found—we found—” I hunched over, squinting, as my head filled with static—loud, surging static that overpowered my senses and drowned out my thoughts.

  “Myla?”

  “What is that?” I clawed at the base of my skull, at the buzzing shivering down my spine. “Don’t you hear—can’t you feel—”

  I heard Ben shout, felt Jetha’s hand on my shoulder. I realized I was listing and forced myself upright.

  “Outside. What is that?”

  “I don’t hear anything,” said Ben. I brushed him aside, drawn to the call. It tugged at me, whispered to me, calling me to its source. My feet moved without my say-so, down the hall, out the door, across the cobbled square. A new truck was arriving, its flatbed piled with crates. I circled around it and stood waiting.

  “Jetha?” The driver hopped down, a man I didn’t recognize. He glanced between me and Jetha, fingering the blaster at his side. I edged toward him, head thrumming, dimly aware of Ben barking over my shoulder.

  “What’s in those crates?”

  “Food from the swap meet. Blankets and toilet paper. A few guns from the meet. Should I—”

  “That.” I pointed at his blaster. “Where’d you get that?”

  “I swapped for it. What’s it to you?”

  Jetha reached for it. “Let’s see it.” I stood transfixed as she turned it over in her hands, examining it from all angles. I felt every shift, like water in my skull. Jetha disengaged the plasma tube and ha
nded me the blaster. Immediately, my head cleared, like when I’d touched Lazrad’s cannon, a slow, quiet resonance rippling through my body.

  “This,” I said. “I felt when it got closer. Like a signal.” I thrust it back at Jetha, wanting it out of my hands.

  “These are new,” said the driver, eyeing me with suspicion. “All the Decemites have them, since a few weeks ago—punch through breastplates like cardboard.” He reclaimed his weapon and peered down the scope. “That, and they don’t miss. They’ve got these sights for moving targets. Like, it’s not just crosshairs. These ones anticipate, show you where to aim.”

  “I’ve seen these before.” I clenched my fists. “They had them at the caves, when they attacked me and Lock. And Lazrad had hundreds of them, and cannons, and drones.”

  “Cannons?” Jetha’s brows shot up. “What are you talking about?”

  “That’s what I’m telling you. She’s got this whole stockpile, enough to outfit an army.” I swallowed hard, tasting copper. “That’s what she’s doing. She’s making new Decemites, dozens, maybe hundreds of them. She has maps of other Domes, and she’s—”

  “Wait. Slow down.” Jetha held up her hands. “Other Domes? Are you sure? Where are they?”

  “We didn’t check all the maps. But there’s one past the mountains, far to the east. I could take you there, maybe, but...” I glanced at the blaster again, clenching my teeth against its pull. “What do you know about those things? Have you opened one up, figured out how it works?”

  “We’ve tried,” said Ben. “But Jasper went with Starkey. He was our tech whisperer. The rest of us, we tinker, but this isn’t like fixing a radio.”

  “We need to get to him.” I squinted past the gates. “These weapons, they’re about to be everywhere. We need to know how to deal with them. How to knock them offline.”

  Ben came up behind me, and I felt his hand on my shoulder. “You’re thinking of Lock, aren’t you? Of Jasper’s nanobots? You think he could save him.”