by Kristin Cast
It was his sister, screaming for their parents.
Tears burned Aiden’s eyes and he clapped his hands over his mouth to keep his cries from escaping. Blair had told him to stay under the bed and stay quiet.
“Momma! Daddy!” Each of his sister’s cries squeezed his heart.
The door to his room hissed open. Aiden pressed his hands against his lips, his fingernails digging into his soft cheeks.
“Denny?” Blair’s voice was tiny, frail. She shuffled toward the bed. Her feet were covered in red, like she’d stepped in a bucket of paint and had forgotten to wash. She dropped to her hands and knees and peered under the bed.
Aiden reached out for his sister, but she didn’t return the gesture. Instead, she pressed her cheek against the carpet and let out a quaking breath.
“Momma?” Aiden retracted his hand and wiped his cheeks. He couldn’t stop crying. “Daddy?”
Blair swallowed. Her usual soft and loving expression had been replaced with something Aiden had never seen before. “Follow me, Denny, okay?” Silvery moonlight streamed in from the window, shining in the river of tears leaking from Blair’s dark eyes. “And when we leave your room, look up, up, up.” Her hand disappeared from view as she pointed toward the ceiling. “The moon is so bright you can see it through the roof.”
Denny let out a shaky breath. “Nuh-uh.”
Blair smiled and, for a split second, was his sister again. “Just try, okay? For me?”
Aiden crawled out from under the bed and followed his big sister’s red footprints to the door.
Blair sucked in shaky breath, her trembling hand hovering over the door’s keypad. “I’ll always protect you, Denny.” She typed in the code and the door hissed open. “Remember, look up, up, up.”
“Aiden!” Someone had grabbed him, stood right in front of him, shaking him free of his memories. But shock clouded his senses. He was there, in the room with the red and the cries and the scent of burned flesh. But he was also gone, a specter, a placeholder for the man whose life this was. It wasn’t Aiden’s. It couldn’t be.
Elodie filled his vision. Her hair stuck in untamed clumps against her crimson-splattered cheeks. Her scarlet-smeared lips moved as she spoke, but he could only hear the siren-like wails of his sister.
Elodie pressed something against his shackles and they popped loose. “Rhett will regain consciousness soon and the Key will be on their way.”
Aiden’s gaze swept around the room, pausing on the unconscious mound of Rhett Owens before settling on his sister and the petite woman next to her, frantically typing on her holopad. Blair rocked back and forth, her legs pressed against her chest, her face twisted by screams.
Elodie threw the handcuffs behind her. “They’ll kill us. Your mother wouldn’t want that.”
Then he saw her, Cath, his mother, in a pool of unending red. “Momma . . .” The word spilled from his lips with a sob so deep and raw he felt inside out. Enough love, enough mothers, for two lifetimes. And he’d lost them both.
Tears carved clean paths down Elodie’s blood-smeared cheeks.
He could save Elodie. Keep her safe, protected. Pour into her his everything. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again.
Something within him clicked, and the well of pain that streamed into his heart ceased overflowing. It ceased to fill at all. He scrubbed away the red and blocked out the cries and the stench and stored those sensations in the farthest corner of his mind. Being a protector didn’t require sadness or grief. He stored those away too. Maybe he’d wrangle all of his emotions and stuff them into the dark as well. After all, hadn’t his emotions gotten him here?
The room was a blur as Aiden followed Elodie toward the exit.
“Brother!” Blair wailed, bloody arms outstretched.
Aiden flicked his eyes to the floor and the heap of shattered pieces disguised as his sister. “You did this.” His voice was even, firm.
The door opened in front of them and Elodie took Aiden’s cold, trembling hand and pulled him from the wreckage of his broken family. Aiden didn’t look back as the door hissed closed behind him.
XLIII
Cath’s blood ran dark red against Blair’s wall of windows, as if the sprinklers had rained rusty water. It was a good thing Blair had replaced her skin with the gloves Maxine had provided. She didn’t have time to waste finding cleaning supplies. She had always been inventive, one of her best qualities, especially when she was under pressure. And look at how much pressure she was under now, bots buzzing around, a Key Corp soldier watching from her door. This was just another chance to shine.
“Just another chance to shine!” Blair bellowed as she balled up another clean corner of her plush throw rug and scrubbed at more rivulets of blood. She would return her office to its spick-and-span glory if it killed her.
“Blair?”
Blair’s breathy pants fogged the section of window she’d just polished as she stilled and closed her eyes. Was that Cath’s voice? Is that who was calling her? Had this all been a dream? Would Cath stand in front of her when Blair opened her eyes? Would she lean over Blair’s bed, her fingers plucking the air that way they did while her halo of golden hair framed her kind and loving features?
“Blair? ”
That was it. This had been a dream, a nightmare. It had to be. Blair would wake up and these false visions would fade into smoke and slip from her memory before she could even say what had happened. This wasn’t real. She dropped the rug and pressed her hands against the glass. None of this was real.
“Blair! ” Maxine slapped the window, and Blair’s eyes flew open. “The bots will do that.”
Blair went cold and hot all at once. This wasn’t a dream, wasn’t a nightmare. This was all too real. Goosebumps rose on her flesh, stopping when they reached her gloved forearms. “Cath . . .” she whimpered and turned to face her dutiful assistant.
Maxine shook her head. “She’s gone, Blair.” She said the words so matter-of-factly Blair had to lean against the window to steady herself. “And you need to snap out of it. There are Key Corp higher ups here—investigators. You don’t want to embarrass yourself or appear weak, or—” she waved her hand in front of Blair’s face. “Or frantic.” Maxine tugged on the untucked end of her blouse. Pink spots stained the white silk.
Black fabric or not, Blair couldn’t make herself look at her own outfit. “You cleaned off the blood.”
Maxine’s throat bobbed with a tight swallow. “I did what I had to do. That’s something you taught me.” A bot buzzed past the vague shape of Cath Scott on the floor.
Right now, Blair couldn’t remember teaching anyone anything.
“So,” Maxine said, with another pull at her blouse. “Snap out of it and do what needs to be done.”
Maxine had said that twice now, Snap out of it. As if it was so easy. As if she’d ever had to snap out of anything in her privileged little blip of a life. Oh, Blair would snap out of it all right. She’d snapped out of worse than this.
“This.” The window squeaked as Blair dragged her gloved fingers down the glass. “Is my office. Mine! ”
Maxine’s eyelids fluttered as she steadied herself against Blair’s unstable storm of emotions. “Yes, and, as I said, I don’t want you to embarrass yourself.”
Blair’s cheeks puffed, ready to release another destabilizing blast, when a red blur caught the corner of her eye. Key Corp investigators. A swarm of them. All gathered outside the door around Major Rhett Owens. Blair stiffened and narrowed her eyes at Maxine. “Walk. Away.” The words left her mouth as daggers. Maxine took a wobbly step back before she turned and walked past the Key Corp soldier standing in the doorway.
Blair brushed back her mane of soft curls, pausing when she reached a section crunchy with drying blood. It was everywhere. Cath was everywhere. Blair pressed the back of her hand against her mouth as she took in her o
ffice. Red chunks clung to the ceiling, the walls, rested in thick, gooey puddles on the floor. One of the soldiers had covered Cath’s body with a sheet that radiated violet light. New tech. Blair dropped her hand and smoothed her fingers over her gloved forearms. The Key was always coming up with new tech.
To health. To life. To the future.
All three of those things had all been taken from Cath. They had all been taken by Eos. How had the Key not seen it coming? How had Blair not seen it coming? Eos had taken everything from her.
Blair surged forward and nearly tripped over the blood-smeared rug piled by her feet. “Rhett,” she shouted over the hum of bots and men whose discussions were no doubt turning Cath’s death into numbers. “Major Owens!” Blair repeated, stepping out of the office that had once given her such pride.
The red barrier of men parted and Rhett emerged, skittish and panting. His brows rocketed up his forehead and his gaze darted back and forth. Apparently, the Major wasn’t used to violent, bloody ends.
Blair grimaced and motioned for him to follow her down the hallway. She couldn’t stay near her office. She couldn’t keep staring at the blood and the goo and Cath’s lifeless body.
Rhett followed her. A dark purple lump protruded from just under his left eye, its swirl of color radiating like heatwaves. With each step away from the scene, he grew taller, more confident. By the time they reached the end of the hall, the frightened, shell-shocked soldier had faded. “Got some kind of fancy new nanite injection,” he said. “Should be all cleared up by tomorrow.” He winced as he grazed the swollen knot with his fingertips. “You’ve got a wicked desk in there.” He nodded back down the hall toward the doorway and the onyx slab just beyond. “Doctor said that a few inches over and up,” he tapped his temple, “and I’d be a goner.”
Blair let out a bark of laughter. “My mother is dead.” She bit the inside of her cheek. Cath wasn’t her mother. Cath wasn’t her mother!
Cath isn’t my mother!
Red.
Rhett cleared his throat. “Yes, I am terribly sorry about what transpired. If I—”
“You’re sorry?” Blair lifted onto the toes of her pointed stilettos. “I’ll—I’ll . . .”
I’ll kill you!
Despite the fury burning hot within her veins, Blair couldn’t say what she felt or follow it up with any action. She still needed Major Rhett Owens, the blockheaded lump of a man. Blair’s teeth sounded like sandpaper as she gnashed them together. “Major Owens, where is Aiden?” Her voice shook, her hands shook, her legs shook.
Where is my brother?!
She dug her nails into her palms. It was fitting that the gloves protected her from the pain of her jagged nails and raw cuticles. Blair had always been protecting herself.
Rhett’s good eye twitched. “I’ll find him.” Another twitch. “I’ll find Elodie.”
Tears bit at Blair’s eyes. “People think living without them is hard.” She tilted her chin toward the ceiling and blinked the tears back. “Living without them is the easy part. It’s living for them that will rip you to shreds.” Blair took a deep breath. In control of herself once again, she settled her gaze on Rhett. “You will find them, Major, and I’ll be right there when you do.” Blair sniffled and forced her grief and anger and panic into the luggage in which she stored the lies she told herself and the lies she told others. She’d unpack them later.
With studied ease and grace, Blair clasped her hands in front of her. “Thank you, Major Owens.” She nodded, turned, and headed toward the restroom. The hairs on her arms rose and a sharp chill brushed her neck. The same kind of cold that welcomed blizzards and froze lakes.
As Blair took another step, she was sure she heard the distinct crack of fragile ice.
XLIV
Elodie had never run as fast as she’d run from the MediCenter. Somewhere along the way, as Westfall’s downtown buildings blurred past, Aiden had yelled and told her to head toward the Warehouse District. Elodie hadn’t needed the instruction. Even through the metallic tang of blood crusted against her lips and the burnt-earth scent of gunpowder seared into her nostrils, she still had her wits about her. She could still remember what Sparkman had told them.
I’ll send them out to make one pass through this district at exactly twenty-three thirty.
Elodie and Aiden would be picked up soon. It was almost over. Her legs shook as she reached the Warehouse District and slowed down. They wanted to keep moving, keep the world at a blur so she didn’t have time to think about Astrid and Cath, the guns and their lives being over. They’d died so easily, so quickly.
When they reached the Eos warehouse, Elodie slipped into the shadows next to Aiden and flattened herself against the concrete exterior. She tried her best to calm her ragged breathing and fill her burning lungs by inhaling smoothly, deeply.
“I used to think my life was boring,” she said, her breath finally calming. “If only I could have seen into the future.” Elodie couldn’t help but smile. A cheerless, sardonic smile, but a smile nonetheless.
Aiden’s boot scraped against the pavement. “Bet you wish you could have that life back.”
Elodie chewed the inside of her cheek. “Not completely,” she said and smoothed her collar between her fingers. “But somewhere in the middle, without the death.”
Aiden continued to grind the sole of his boot against the ground. “Yeah, well, we can’t go back now.”
“What about your sister?” Elodie bit her lip. “Blair said that as long as Cath confessed, we could go free, and that she would sort everything out with the Council. We could pretend none of this ever happened.”
“She only said those things to get what she wanted. She’s always been that way.” Aiden kicked a broken piece of concrete. It tumbled off the sidewalk and disappeared down the sewer grate.
“You’re her brother. She loves you. And now you’re the only family she has left.”
Aiden wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Blair doesn’t love me. She doesn’t know how.”
A nearby streetlight flickered before resuming its steady waterfall of light.
Elodie stood silently as Aiden continued to kick at the concrete beneath his boots. Clouds had hidden the stars, and all at once Elodie felt caged. “No one is supposed to die in VR.” She felt the words leave her lips but wasn’t sure why she’d said them.
Aiden stopped scuffing his boot against the sidewalk but remained quiet.
She brushed away the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Sparkman’s team will pick us up and take us to a safehouse.” She rested her head against the building and sighed. “It’s almost over.”
“We’re not going to a safehouse,” Aiden said as he stared at the flickering lamplight. “There’s only one place where no one will look for us—where we can truly hide.”
Bile burned the back of Elodie’s throat. “Zone Seven.” She’d known all along but hadn’t wanted it to be real. She’d hoped something magical would happen and they’d all be rescued. But magic was only in stories, and all of those stories were banned.
Aiden twined his fingers together with hers. “New Dawn is out there. It has to be. We’ll be safe, Elodie,” he lifted her hand to his lips. They brushed against her skin as he spoke. “This time, I’ll make sure of it.”
An alert beamed bright white from her blood-spattered cuff, illuminating the mossy depths of Aiden’s eyes.
“Shit!” He dropped her hand, yanked off his cuff, and threw it to the ground. “Take yours off. We have to destroy them.” He stomped on his cuff. It flashed green then red then went dark. “We can’t be traced. Not again.”
Elodie scrambled to remove her cuff. It had been years since she’d taken it off. It was as much a part of her as the implant embedded behind her ear at birth. She followed Aiden’s lead and drove her heel into the cuff until red light sputtered and it went dark. Elodie closed her opposi
te hand over wrist. Goosebumps rose against the soft skin once covered by the circle of plastic.
Aiden’s fingertips grazed behind his ear. “Tech deleted your VR profile, but we’ll still have to get this.” He tapped the spot where the implant was inserted.
Headlights bobbed along the street and Aiden craned his neck to get a better look.
Before she could question him, Aiden rushed toward the truck. With another surge of adrenaline, Elodie matched his stride. The unmarked black box truck seemed to grumble as it idled in the street between warehouses. Her breath stuck in her chest as she rounded the vehicle. A helmeted Key Corp soldier stood by the back of the truck, automatic weapon slung across the chest of his red uniform like a purse strap. He remained still and unfazed even as Elodie, blood smeared and frazzled, skidded to a stop. Her gaze flicked to Aiden, but he was stoic, unreadable. He had been since they’d left the MediCenter. Since Cath . . .
The soldier unlatched the door and pushed it open enough for them to climb through. “Sparkman said you’d need a way to Zone Seven.” His nostrils flared under the visor covering his eyes.
Aiden nodded.
“My partner and I are making a run out there to drop off some gear and oxygen tanks.” He motioned to the silver cannisters and stacks of black bins lining what they could see of the inside of the truck. “It’ll be a week before we make another trip.”
With another nod, Aiden gripped the side of the truck and hefted himself up into the cargo compartment.
The soldier checked something on his cuff before fixing his shielded gaze onto Elodie. “You in?”
Her hands were numb as she traced Aiden’s steps and hoisted herself into the crowded back of the truck and onto the slim metal bench next to him.
The soldier followed her in and pulled a glowstick out of his vest pocket before closing the door. It was pitch black for a moment, followed by the crunching snap of the glowstick and a cloud of white light.
