by Abby J. Reed
Jupe’s eyes flicked open. “Miss me, chica?”
Watching you go was one of the worst experiences of my life. “How could I when your smug face was plastered over the screen?” I had to joke otherwise I’d fall apart from the not knowing if I’d ever see him again.
He tried to smile but the movement threatened to further tear his split lip.
I couldn’t stop touching him. Smoothing back his bloody hair, running my hands along his shoulders, couldn’t stop touching him for fear he’d be taken away again. “You look terrible,” I said.
“Just until the Queen wants another chat. Then I’ll get meds so I look pretty again.”
My chest squeezed. “You’ll have to go out there again?”
He tried to shrug, but it broke into a wince. “I’m guessing it’ll be an entire line series. That’s usually how these things go.”
“What will happen after you finish the series?”
His jaw tightened. “She won’t need us anymore.”
My lips thinned. We’ll die.
Then Jupe brightened. “Can I have some of that food?”
I turned to see a peachy tray at the front of the room. My legs wobbled as I walked toward the three bowls. Did the soldiers drop that off when they dropped off Jupe? I sipped on the chilled tangy soup. The bread wasn’t half bad either, but it didn’t have the nutty taste of compound-grown wheat.
I brought a bowl over and set it at Brody’s feet. “Brody?” I said tentatively.
He sat against the wall on the floor, his knees tucked to his chest, wrapped in silence. While Jupe was being paraded, the doctor had come and inserted Brody’s line. I watched every movement and the procedure seemed to go fine, if not a bit quick. Brody’s eyes had flared and then he’d plopped against the wall. He hadn’t moved since. “Surely this isn’t normal,” I said.
“It’s normal,” Jupe croaked. He couldn’t sit up but had managed to face me. “The older you are when the line insertion is done, the more the brain gets overwhelmed. There’s an option to go deeper into the on-line world when you first start orienting. He probably did that. It’s hard not to.”
The way Brody’s eyes still shifted back and forth, his facial features hanging like dead muscles, made it look like he had completely checked out from the world. “It’s almost like he’s trapped in his own head.”
“That’s the idea.” He groaned. “More time on-line means less time in the real world and less trouble for the Queen. Some of the more line-extremists never leave. We call them circlers because if they walk, they’ll walk in circles.”
“Brody? Can you hear me?” I nudged the bowl closer to him. “The food isn’t bad.” I leaned forward and touched the spot where Brody had gotten the concussion. It was all smoothed over. His hands were dead things as I examined the stumps where his two fingers used to be. The skin was completely healed over, only a touch pink from the newness.
These fancy lines worked fast.
I waved once more in front of his eyes. No response.
I preferred angsty Brody to this corpse-like one. At least then I knew he was alive.
I picked up the last bowl and knelt on the bed. Jupe’s gaze went cross-eyed as he tried to follow my movements.
“Here, let me.” I ladled a spoonful and brought it to his lips.
He choked. “Too cold.”
I rolled my eyes. “Baby.” I breathed on the next spoonful with a haaaa.
“That’s not how heat works.”
“Better than nothing.”
We finished eating in comfortable silence, watching the screen flicker with the replay of the broadcast. With every rerun, he winced at himself. Clearly, what he said had cost him a great deal more than a beating. Part of me should be mad. He just threw away his chance of uniting the factions. The other part of me was grateful. I didn’t think I could go through another round of the lavender gas without falling apart. Even now, the images rose in my mind—
I took a deep, calming breath and centered myself. I no longer lived in that nightmare cage. Besides, I wasn’t in my apartment back in Scarlatti.. And I, in a way, chose to be here when I bargained with Leader for Brody’s life.
That thought calmed me.
“Thank you,” I said. “For doing that interview for us.”
He put his hand on mine. The gesture was filled with weariness and pain. He was on the verge of falling asleep. “Anything. For you.”
Warmth sparked inside me. When he removed his hand, a tiny ring rested in my palm.
Metal.
“What is this?”
His grin was lopsided. “It was the only way I could think to push back.”
I caught Jupe’s fingers and squeezed.
Brody was still out of it. Jupe had finished most of the soup and his eyes had already fallen shut. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and bring him into a tight hug and tell him everything would be all right. The pain will fade with time. I didn’t think he’d even hear me, even feel my touch right now. And I had work to do.
One thing was for certain. I didn’t have to like it. I didn’t have to embrace using it. But if we were going to get out of here, it was up to me. Up to my power. Even if I did end up killing everyone, we were going to die anyway.
The certainty settled like a sinking stone in my gut. There was no other way. No choice.
I snuggled next to Jupe, close as I dared without hurting him. Then slowly, quietly, began to hum.
If I could practice without being noticed, if I could figure out how to manipulate normal metal without tearing the room apart, I could make this ring into a weapon. Then I could try to rescue all of us.
Chapter 28
BREAKER
I rolled over with a groan. “Guess we’ll take the crazy confusing back paths, then.” A rock nugget had fallen just left of my face. That was lucky. I ran my hands across Circuit, looking for any damage. If we survived this, he’d need a good scrubbing. Otherwise, only two new scratches. My pant leg had protected him.
Malani’s wings had spread across her body, shielding her from any explosive debris. The feathers parted just enough for her to glare at me.
I showed her my cap. “At least yours came with a defensive system.”
The feathers dropped back into place.
Save us, the fortress seemed abandoned. In front of me was the tube I had once taken to leave the fortress. Gaps in the staircase looked like missing teeth. Scattered belongings filled the spaces. I sniffed. Couldn’t smell any bodies from here, though the air was stale, like a sealed tomb.
I glanced up. There was still a gap at the top of the doors even after the explosive’s damage. Could the Extrats climb that high? They had trouble scaling the Hope, but in the end, they had. I couldn’t be sure some of the upper fortress hadn’t fallen outside, giving them something to climb. “Maybe we should move.”
Malani still didn’t answer.
I turned to her.
She hadn’t budged, except to curl in a fetal position. Her wings clicked together like a soft wind chime as she shook like a piece of river weed caught in a current, unable to wrench itself away from the water.
Coming back here filled me with unpleasant memories, and I hadn’t been through nearly what she had. What was it doing to her?
“Hey.” I scooted over to Malani, ignoring the aches in my body, trying to put my arm around her. Her feathers flicked out, forming a barbed shell. I couldn’t touch her without getting stabbed. “Hey, crazy angel, you’re all right. You’re okay.”
I tipped onto my side and gently stroked one of her feathers until the barbs smoothed away. Then I tugged her tight to my chest and held on, as though I could hold on to some of the pain for her, cup her light so the night didn’t blow it out. Eventually, the sound of her br
eathing slowed.
“How can we have gone so far only to have come right back?” I muttered.
Malani’s wings rolled away from her face. She pointed a shaking finger over her shoulder to the staircase.
“Our life is like a broke staircase?”
She took a deep breath. “Life isn’t linear.” Her voice was ragged, but it gained strength as she went on. “It’s an upward spiral. We grow and change. Each time we come around to what seems to be the same choices, we’re in a different place. Life only looks like a circle from where you’re standing.”
I considered that.
When her breathing slowed and her shaking finally got under control, she rolled away from me. Her wings fluttered back to their normal size. My arms relaxed at the sight. She was gonna be okay.
“You’re right,” she said. “We should move. The Extrats aren’t stupid. And your face is too pretty for them to resist.”
I snorted and helped her to her feet. “Look. You’re not gonna like this. But our solalight is near dead. I doubt there’s many generators on and getting lost ‘cause we don’t have a light seems like a worse option than delaying a bit.” I said it gentle as I could, holding out my hand to soften the blow. “I think our best bet is to find a place to tuck away and then take the back paths in the morning or until we can charge the solalight.”
A shudder ran through her. “You want to spend the night. Here. In the fortress.”
I grimaced. “That’s about the size of it. Unless you have another option?”
Her face twisted. “I don’t.” Her wings balled, then released. “All right. Let’s do it.”
I brought out the map the Heron woman gave me, running my cap along the marked trail. “Hmmm. Looks like we need to get to the lower part of the fortress.” I peered over into the fortress core. It was a long, long way down. “Is your wing okay enough to get the solabike across the gaps in the stairs? We’ll need it if we want to get from the tower to the compound fast.”
She examined her wing again. “I don’t want to risk carrying extra weight for a while.”
I tapped on Circuit. “What if we rode across the gaps? You know, like a run and jump, but on a bike?”
“I thought you were supposed to be good at measuring and distances and math-y things. See the size of some of those?”
I shrugged. “Right, but I’m better at hopeless optimism.”
“Obviously.”
My grin was lopsided. “Lemme check out the tube then.” The tube was jammed in a similar position to when we escaped. The door didn’t function and the ceiling was a bit caved in. Claw marks along the surface explained why. At least the red light wasn’t still whirring. I’d had enough of whirring emergency lights. After ten mins of studying and tweaking the tube, I wiped residual grease onto the satchel. It blended in with Lewis’s marks. “Brake’s broke and I don’t have the equipment to replace it. But I’ve got an idea.” I took out another explosive and made a boom motion with my hand. “Gonna need your help though.”
Her grumbling was a mix of Elik and Heron. “How come I have to do all the work?”
I held out my cap. “If this deigned to grow a wing, I’d be more than happy to.”
She rolled her eyes.
We chipped off hunks of rock from the roughed-up walls and placed them like feet onto the torn-up tube ceiling. Between her wings, my cap, and almost no help from Circuit, we maneuvered the bike so it hovered over the hunks, barely floating.
Hopefully it’d be enough.
Rocks fell from the top of the rubble barricade, and a sharp cracking rang throughout the open space. Both our bodies snapped in that direction. A metal fist punched through the hole at the top.
Of all the stupid, banging— “It’s time!” I hopped on the bike and started it. Malani snatched the primed explosive and rocketed to the top of the tube system, wedging it into some of the cabling.
The Extrat fell from the top of the door. It hit the ground with a clang. Behind it, another ravaged face poked through the hole. Its rotting eyes found us and its smile cracked open.
“Go!” I shouted.
Malani twisted in the air, diving toward me, hand outstretched.
BOOM.
The exploding bomb filled the core with a compressing noise.
Malani’s hand hooked onto the back of the seat, reeling herself onto the bike.
The tube fell, taking us with it.
My stomach lurched as we plummeted. The stairs flew past us. I tried to keep count, then lost the number.
If we miscounted . . .
“Go!” she shrieked.
I gunned the bike and we soared off the tube. We launched over the fortress pit, toward one of the snapped-off walkways. The bike slammed onto one of them. We bounced, but Malani’s wings kept us on track. Below, the tube crashed in an explosion. A column of flames ripped the walkway apart behind us, the heat searing our backs, as we gunned toward the safety of the landing.
We spun in.
Malani created drag to slow us. I turned around to see a flash of metal as an Extrat fell into the flames engulfing the entire fortress core.
The flames died and a laugh burst from my throat. Jitters crawled across my limbs. Banging ‘stroids. We’d done it. The laugh slowed in time with the adrenaline. I was bone exhausted. And we still had to get out of the fortress. “At least the Extrats will have some trouble getting down here.”
Malani plucked the map from my pocket. She hopped off the bike, walking back toward the core. The edges of her silhouette glowed as the fire raged below. “We’re close to one of the levels with an exit toward the back paths.” When she turned back to me, her face glistened with sweat. “Astook, it’s so hot.”
I leaned off the bike and flicked on the hall switches. Only one of the lights guttered to life. I set the solalight out so it could suck up some of the solaenergy. Hopefully between the hall light and the fire, it’d be enough. “We prolly have an hora or two before the light will charge fully. If we wait three, we can give your wing more time to bear weight again. And I’d have time to take off Circuit too, give my stump a break.”
“And for the heat to die a bit.” Malani wiped some of the sweat off and walked past me down the hall. “There will be apartments deeper into the mountain on this level. It might be cooler.”
I glanced at her. “You sure you’re comfortable taking a break here?”
She shrugged, not looking me in the eye. “I never stayed in one of the Heron apartments.”
True. She’d slept in the cells.
We walked straight down the hallway with the bike beside us, deeper into the mountain. The light from the fire illuminated the way, so we weren’t walking in complete darkness. I could tell we were in the apartment section of the fortress because the design elements changed from functional to homey. A child’s sketch carved into the stone. Toys and clothing strewn in the hallways. Thankfully, there were only a couple bodies on this floor.
I found an apartment that didn’t seem too disturbed. No corpses inside, at least. It seemed quaint with its tomato vines and doilies, and the furniture seemed comfortable and elegant with all its curving sides. “In here.” I beckoned to Malani.
She froze at the entrance. Her wings snapped into tight little balls. Every limb melded into her torso.
“You don’t like this one?” I said.
She didn’t enter. “I know who lived here.” Her voice was breathy and her chest rose and fell in shallow heaves.
I flicked one of the doilies hanging from the front wall like a painting. “Someone with bad taste. We don’t have to stay here.”
“No. I mean, I know whose apartment this is.” Her face was as bleached as her hair. She backed out toward the bike. “I can smell him.” Her eyes were wide and unfocused. Whoever
lived here didn’t trigger good memories for her.
“Don’t worry,” I said quick. “We’ll find a different one.”
Another apartment two doors down was in good condition. I barely opened the door before Malani rushed in. I gave her privacy as she composed herself, busying myself by trying and failing to turn on a light, straightening our bags on the bike, aligning a chair and, well, ordering some of the belongings. I hadn’t noticed before how so many objects of our life show aspects of our culture. The silverware, the dishes—all uniquely Heron. The clothing dyed in their preferred colors. Even the room layout had a different feel. What about my life told others I was Human?
I handed Malani one of the pupals from the food satchel. She climbed into one of the beds, lying at an angle due to her wings. We had plenty of time for a quick nap. Plenty of space, too, with the two beds. But Malani moved over, just enough, for there to be room for me. I pointed to the spot. “You don’t mind?”
Her gaze flicked between me and the bed. “I don’t mind.”
It’d be better defense if we took turns keeping watch, just in case there were more Extrats prowling about or the ones we left outside had found their way inside, but hell if I wasn’t gonna take her up on the invite. I was about to shut the outer door to give us at least one defensive layer when she said, “Keep it open.” The tone in her voice—fear.
She didn’t want to rest alone.
I sat on the edge of the bed. A long moment passed. She had no choice but to be vulnerable in front of me as she waited in the place that caused her so much pain. The very least I could do was be vulnerable, too.
To my surprise, there wasn’t any resistance to the idea. I wanted to be vulnerable. I wanted to show her.
It’s not as though I didn’t need to rest my stump anyway.
Gentle and slow, I rolled up my pant leg. I paused, waiting to see her reaction. She only watched me with heavy eyes. I decompressed the cup, adjusting here and there, and took off Circuit. She didn’t say anything as I examined my stump, then Circuit. She didn’t say anything as I took out a rag and wiped him and scratched the itchy spot where my stump still hadn’t acclimated. She didn’t say anything as I laid him on the floor and hopped back to bed. She didn’t say anything as I lay down next to her with my stump pressed against her leg.
