His hand comes up with his weapon. “Stop right there.”
Neither Davyd nor I listen.
“Don’t you remember?” I ask as we close the few feet. “Qs have no effect on us.”
Rael, behind Davyd, is the only one in danger from the Q, but redhead isn’t interested in her. The snarl on his face is for me.
“You little …” He fires.
My chest tickles where the beam hits. I smile.
He takes a step back, and another.
I lift my Q. “My turn.”
But I don’t fire. He’s effectively unarmed and terrified. He reeks of it. I can’t kill an unarmed person, not even this one.
I feel Davyd beside me. Feel his eyes on my finger and know he waits to step forward until I relax on the trigger. Redhead’s life was my call to make, and he wasn’t going to get in the way of my revenge.
He rests a heavy hand on redhead’s shoulder to turn his shaking body away, then holds the Q in the center of his back. “You’ll lead us out. Make a sound or draw attention to us and you’re dead.”
Redhead does as he’s told, moving toward the double doors.
At Davyd’s indication, I replace his Q with mine, driving the officer ahead of us. Davyd moves behind Rael.
I ignore the pang inside me at the prospect of stepping out into the open. It’s not simply that I’ll be a target, or fear for the safety of the trembling of Rael at my side. I’m a target wherever I am here, but it’s the thought of the never-ending sky overhead and the quiet of outside. I didn’t appreciate how much I missed that hum of engines and air-circulators until I was back underground.
To me it sounds a lot like home. That faint noise was the soundtrack to my childhood. Back when Mother was a super woman who could do anything, and Zed and I dreamed of a free future.
I remember playing on the wheat belts and teasing the rabbits, and Dad telling my brother and me that we should have been farmers. I held that idea close for so long. That I was meant for a peaceful life, my hands deep in the soil, and the satisfaction of watching something I planted grow.
But now I know the truth.
I wasn’t born to farm. I was born to fight.
The doors slide open and I shiver. The night air slaps against my bare arms leaving goose bumps on my skin in its wake.
I follow redhead onto a neatly paved path. The pretty stone winds between other domed buildings identical to the one behind us. Along the edges of the paths are flower-filled gardens lit by sparkling blue lights. I’ve stepped into freaking fairyland. Everything is clean and bright despite the drizzle of rain beginning to fall.
Ahead of us, officers run between buildings, shouting updates about the fire. Some carry buckets. I’m guessing Davyd disabled the sprinkler system, too. In the distance, families huddle together in their pajamas. Mums with dads and kids, heads bent, clearly confused. Seems not everyone here knows about what exists beneath their feet.
They’re the first people I’ve seen here in colored clothing and the pinks and greens make me think, with a pang, of Kaih. Even when we could wear only the blue of Lifers, she shone with style. All I have to do is get out of here and I can give her the serum—not that I can ever imagine her losing her temper.
In all the confusion, two officers guarding two prisoners for evacuation don’t seem to warrant any attention. We walk on without being stopped. I breathe air clean of the smoke and wonder if I’m imagining the hint of flower scent.
Davyd chose our exit well. Ahead I see some undergrowth and a barbed fence, not unlike the one we put up around the settlement. However, unlike our effort, this is perfect and uniform. There’s one visible exit. Even from here I can see it’s heavily guarded and we don’t head that way.
We walk along the paths at a steady pace. Redhead in front is reminded by the Q in his back not to draw any extra attention. The problem is that as far as I can tell, we’re headed away from the only exit.
“Is there a back way out of here?” I ask.
“Yes, but it’s a mirror of that one.”
“Great.”
“And the fence is electric.”
Now that he says it, the regular signs along the fence that we’re still too far away to read, make sense. They’re warnings. “Excellent.”
“Or should I say, was electric.” He flashes a grin. “You worry too much.”
Less than a minute later we stop, sheltered behind one of the dome buildings. It appears to be deserted. The wail of the siren seems distant here and the fence line closer.
“We’re almost there,” Davyd whispers. He points ahead. I follow his indication and see a small hole in the barbed fence. Small enough to crawl through. “Once you get out, keep running to the top of the hill. Go left and then through some undergrowth for about a mile. There’s a hollow you two can shelter in behind an old shed with a white roof. I’ll meet you there.”
“What about me?” Redhead must have grown brave by his lack of harm so far and there’s a whine to his voice.
“You’ll go with them,” Davyd snarls.
Redhead frowns. “I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
There’s one building between us and the fence but it’s farther away from the boundary. The three points make a triangle with sides of maybe one hundred feet. As I estimate how long it will take to cross at a run, the doors to the building slide open and Doctor waddles out. Of all the people who could have come out of that building …
I glance down at my wrist. They must have realized I’m missing. They’re probably tracking me.
We’ll have to cross in front of him to get out.
My knees give way, and I’m on my butt in the mud. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Davyd’s hand on my chin forces my head up. There’s no sympathy in his eyes. “Rael needs you.” He touches my shoulder and the pack strap. “The settlement needs you and the serum in that pack. Don’t screw it all up because you’re scared of a little pain.”
“A little?” I swallow and force myself to look at Doctor—the architect of my nightmares. I can’t be sure, but I think the device is the bulge in his top shirt pocket. It makes sense; he wouldn’t leave it behind.
“You can do this.”
Doctor is doubled over coughing. It must be another of the exits Davyd mentioned. He’s not even looking this way. Either I try for escape or I end up in his clutches again anyway. “I’ll try.”
Davyd drags me up and shoves me hard between the shoulder blades. “Run, Princess.”
Pushed out in the open, I have no choice but to obey. I hold Rael’s hand and focus on the fence, legs pumping. Maybe the Doctor and the other officers won’t see us. It’s dark, and there’s the small matter of a fire burning in their precious facility to distract them.
Ten feet in and I’m feeling good. Rael is wheezing, but she’s keeping up. I encourage her as much as I can but save my strength for dragging her along. A few more steps and we’ll be halfway. I think redhead is behind us, but I can’t spare him thought.
All that matters is the fence and the hole and freedom on the other side.
I realize Davyd’s no longer with us at the same time Doctor and the other officers turn our way. I take five more steps before any of the men by the door make sense of what they’re seeing. Two prisoners and an officer heading to the fence line.
We’re past halfway but any hope of remaining unnoticed is gone.
“Run,” I cry.
We’re nearly there but the hanging-jaw surprise on the face of Doctor has morphed into pure, purple rage. “Do something.”
“He’s helping them.” Davyd’s voice rings out across the compound. Loud and commanding the attention of all who hear it.
Rael glances back in confusion.
But I know who he means. I jerk her onwards. “Keep going.”
I hear, rather than see, redhead fall. One moment he’s on our heels, the next there’s a thud
of a body hitting the path and we’re alone. His strangled cry drives me on, but my brain is reeling. Davyd took him down. Davyd planned this all along.
I glance back.
He bends over the dying man and says something. I can’t hear what it is but I can read the satisfaction in Davyd’s smile.
Ice chills my blood.
I remember the look on his face when redhead questioned his authority. I might have limits on what I’ll do in the name of revenge, but Davyd doesn’t. I should have realized he was always going to die. One moment of insubordination and he’s paid for it with his life. Did he have a wife, a child, someone who’ll cry come sunrise and they learn he’s never coming home?
Another glance behind shows Doctor pushing one of his officers aside. Those delicate hands reach into his pocket. I see it clearly despite the distance.
No, no, no, no, no.
“Faster.” I’m begging myself as much as Rael. If we can make it to the other side of the fence, we’ll be safe. I repeat it twice more.
Then it hits me.
Cuts me off midstride. Takes my legs from under me and throws my arms up. I hit the ground unable to brace. Blood tastes hot on my tongue, mixing with mud and grit. I spit and try to stand.
Another hit. Pain is everything. Everything is pain. My vision goes. I see nothing but red spots. Taste nothing but fear. I’ve been here before. There’s no resisting.
This is it.
Rael is tugging on my hand. I hear her crying as though from another planet. “Asher, come on, we’re almost there.”
“Can’t.” I hate the word, hate the defeat in it, but the pain is everywhere. My muscles spasm, and I drop the Q. “Take the weapon. Go.”
I am on my face and can’t hear her answer.
Pain is every breath. Every beat of my heart makes my body arch. The part of my brain that is still functioning hopes Rael has listened and fled. Then there’s no more room for thought. Only pain.
Something drags me forward.
I pry open eyes slick with tears. Rael. She’s sobbing, tugging at my arm as I flop and twitch. Why won’t she listen? I don’t want to take her down with me. Valuable seconds have passed.
“Go,” I croak.
My body arches again, and my head slams into the ground. The ringing fills my ears but something hits me even harder. I spoke to Rael. A second ago that was beyond me.
The pain … it’s less. Less by only the difference between agony and impossible, but less. It has to be the distance. Rael dragging me forward has helped. I’m on the border of the device’s range, if I can get a little farther I might be free.
I pull out of Rael’s grip.
I try for my hands and knees. I could crawl, happily slither through the mud as the rain grows heavier, but my body won’t obey. She’s pulling at me again, but my arm swings up and sends her flying.
Somehow I need to get farther away from Doctor.
There must be a way.
An involuntary jerk of my arm, thanks to the device, sends the blade still clutched in my hand slicing into my cheek. Flesh parts with a hot sting, blood dribbles down my neck. A scream rips from my throat.
But my body is momentarily mine, I roll forward.
Now I understand. Distance gives me relief, and fresh pain, control.
There’s only one way. I will do whatever it takes to be free. I squeeze as hard as I can on the handle and bring it down across my thigh. I think I cry out, the cut is too deep not to. I don’t care. It works. The fresh wave of pain puts me back in charge. I scramble, on hands and knees toward the fence. As I get farther away, I manage, with Rael’s help, to climb to my feet. Bent low, we run, picking up speed with every step.
Behind us there’s shouting, but we’ll make the fence before they stop us. I have to hope Davyd’s right about the place he directed us to find—that it’s well hidden, because officers are already gathering to take up the chase, and a hundred feet doesn’t seem like much at all.
Doctor screams for help. “Stop them! Somebody stop them!”
Chapter Eighteen
[Samuai]
I don’t remember curling up with Megs on the mattress in front of the fire, but I wake as dawn lightens the wall I’m facing, with her nestled in my arms.
I breathe in, inhaling the scent of the still burning fire and the unique sweetness that is Megs. It’s not that I want to kiss her or feel her up. But for a few seconds nothing hurts, and the absence of pain is its own bliss. In my head I go back in time to that morning with Megs where I held her close at the green robes station. I’m Blank again, and all I had to worry about was finding my memory. I thought having the answers would solve everything.
I exhale. My head pounds, and my muscles protest the tiny movement.
She must feel I’m awake, and she twists so she’s looking into my eyes. Our bodies are pressed against each other from chest to thigh. “Hey,” she says.
Our breath mingles. Sour with sleep, and all the more intimate because of it. “Hey,” I say back.
Neither of us moves to pull away. The air between us crackles with awareness of all we’ve been through together. From the adrenaline high of playing war that night in the warehouse to nearly dying under a rain of rock and earth.
She glances over my shoulder and shifts back away from me.
I let her go and turn to see Cyril stirring something in a big pot over the fire. He waves his hand and grins.
Heat burns my cheeks, and it’s not from the fire. I’d forgotten we weren’t alone.
I extricate myself from Megs and manage to stand.
“Breakfast is nearly ready,” Cyril says carefully. His gaze flicks to Megs and then back to me. “I’ll be back soon.”
There’s sympathy in his eyes as he smiles again and heads back into the workshop. Somehow he knows I haven’t told Megs about my hearing, and he’s giving me privacy to try and explain.
I sit on the edge of the mattress. I can’t put it off any longer. I should have explained when she woke last night, but a part of me hoped this morning I’d be able to hear again. I could avoid having her see me as something less than able.
Stupid pride.
She’s leaning against the wall, wearing a soft red and black-checked shirt Cyril must have given her. A blanket wraps around her bare legs. She’s tiny and vulnerable, and I know she has questions about what happened and why we’re here but I have to get this over with.
I look down at my scratched and bruised hands, the yellowing of the skin blending with an old Q mark. “I can’t hear you,” I blurt. The truth doesn’t get any easier when I say it aloud, probably because I feel, rather than properly hear my own words. I don’t look up for a long moment. I want to give her time to compose her face because I don’t want to see pity or disgust.
Finally I lift my head. “Something happened to my head when we crashed, and I can’t hear properly since.”
Her lips part. “What?”
Her hand covers her mouth—in shock or as a test—and I have no idea what she says next. Without her lips to read, there’s a faint noise that I think is her talking, but beyond that, I can’t make out a syllable. I can guess.
“I can’t hear you,” I say again. Because that’s it. That’s all the explanation I have.
“How … ” This time she stops herself and fumbles in the pack we rescued. I’d brought in from the workshop last night after working on the bike. I didn’t go through it while she was unconscious despite knowing she had the tablet in there.
She pulls out the small screen and swipes her finger across it to turn it on.
I realize I never asked where she got it. Did she steal it from some secret green robes stash of tech or bring it from the city?
When she turns it my way, the question is simple. “How bad?”
“I don’t know. I hear some sound but not enough to distinguish words. I can get simple stuff by watching your lips.”
She scraw
ls again and then shows me the screen with a raised brow. “So the constant staring at my mouth isn’t a lust thing? I shouldn’t live in fear of a kiss?”
It’s good to laugh. Her teasing is preferable to sympathy. Her hand finds mine and I squeeze it. “It should make it easier to ignore anything you say I don’t want to hear.”
The next question is one I expect. “How did we end up as Company guests?”
I explain as best I can, but without mentioning my crazed attack and the moment I was sure he’d kill me. I tell her about Cyril carrying her here, helping us, feeding us. I tell her the bike might be repaired thanks to his knowledge and equipment. And the whole time I talk she doesn’t interrupt or comment. She waits for me to finish and then appears to consider everything I said.
“I don’t trust him.” Megs mouths the words and then writes them on her tablet in case I don’t get the message.
“Didn’t I speak clearly? If not for him we’d be dead.” I have to make a point not to shout. I have no idea where Cyril went, for all I know he’s listening from the other side of the workshop door.
“You don’t know that,” she argues. She jabs at the words still on the screen.
She can finger spell her lack of trust for all I care, it won’t make any difference. “You might not trust Cyril, but I do.”
She gives me the look that says I’ve spent too much of my life enclosed in a metal ship buried underground to understand the world. “He’s Company.”
“He helped us.”
“Why?”
I hesitate, not wanting to betray Cyril’s confidence about his daughter. “He has his reasons and they’re good ones.”
“Not everyone can be saved.”
It’s not hard to guess what she’s referring to. The Company woman we saw the first time she took me out to show me New City. Back then I was Blank, and I could only think about getting my memories back and the girl I was with. Megs.
She wanted to show me the world I’d woken into and we rode through the streets unharmed until we were spotted by a Company patrol. They took up the chase, and we were nearly away when the Company woman fell. As she flew through the air and then clung to the edge of a huge chasm, I made the decision to turn back and try to save her. One I can’t regret. One I’d make again if I had the chance. Despite it being in vain and her falling anyway.
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