I didn’t have time for this. But at least Sarika could tell us what’d been going on outside. “Did the Indignos make it into the wards? Is Taschen okay? Do you know what happened to Lotus?”
“Lotus was taken.” And I hated her for the drama she injected into her voice. “She was—”
I grabbed Sarika’s arm, forcing the words through gritted teeth. “That’s my sister you’re preaching about. Where is she?”
A glimmer of the woman I knew surfaced through the facade. “She never came back last night. And, today, someone in Pleiades already knew our plan. They knew where and when the bombs would be going off. Someone disarmed the explosives before we could detonate them and we had to take the Abuelos by force, instead of surprise.”
Then her voice regained its theatrical tremor. “The Festival Grounds are soaked with the blood of our Citizens. It never should’ve been this way! Many lives were lost this night. Now we will have our vengeance!”
Sarika wasn’t speaking to me anymore, but to the mob gathered around her. “For too long, the Curadores have kept us bound to our ancestors’ sins. They believe themselves Gods, holding themselves above us. But no more! We shall pull down this abomination. Render sin into glass and ash. God will smile on us tonight!”
Crack-crack-crack! The crowd pounded their fighting sticks together and raised their voices: “God will smile!”
“No!” I shouted over the din. It was my turn for a speech. “There are innocent people in here . . . God will not smile on the killing of children! And if you destroy this Dome, that is exactly what will happen . . . we will all starve. Even the Indignos know that we’re not ready to support ourselves.”
“Then God will have no choice but to show us his fist or grant us his mercy.” Sarika had already been a mighty voice back in Pleiades, but now she held an otherworldly power. The crowd was mesmerized by her, willing to follow her into any battle.
“This is insanity!” I cried.
“No! It’s faith!” Sarika raised her arms and the crowd echoed her, thrusting their knives and sticks up toward the sky. “God will finally see, without a doubt, that we are humble and righteous before him. And he will reach down and reward us for our courage.”
As if she herself was God, Sarika reached down and picked up a chunk of loose concrete. She lobbed it through the air and shattered a nearby window. The crowd went crazy, following her, throwing anything they could find. Hungry for violence.
I’d counted on Sarika—and the Citizens—to be our allies. But these were not Citizens anymore. They were a sandstorm devouring the desert. They would strip anything they came across, until there was nothing left but bone.
Hands grabbed me, pulling at me. Tearing my dress. Sarika vanished into the crowd again, leaving me at their mercy. I lashed out with my knife but they were all around me. Their chants and slurs crowding out my thoughts. Pulsing through me. Vibrating in my bones.
Only seconds before it happened, I realized that it was not simply voices. The air went dark. Streetlamps blotted out by throngs of flys. They choked the sky—a swarming, swirling mass descending on the Citizens.
People tried to shake off the metal insects. Tried to smack them out of the air. But there were too many of them. Too many to breathe. The shouts of triumph turned to screams.
I stood among them, an island untouched. Then I dodged through the panicked mob. Sprinting through the streets. Until finally, I stumbled up the stairs to own my house.
I burst in the front door. “The Citizens! They’re tearing the place apart!”
Dozens of faces turned to look at me, but no one spoke. Silent Kisaengs were crammed into the hallway and kitchen. The house was a vigil, listening to Oksun’s voice as it crackled across the radio.
“Looks like someone bombed the tunnels around the wards before anyone could be evacuated. The Indignos are still managing to get our people out, but it’s slow going. Good news is Ada and the Mothers made it to the main computer in the Genetics Lab and they’ve started sending flys down into the tunnels to help clear the way.”
The crowd of Kisaengs parted for me as I followed the sound of Oksun’s voice, squeezing my way into the kitchen. Riya was sitting on the edge of the counter holding a handheld radio mic. She gave me a relieved smile. “I have good news too. Leica just showed.”
“Thank God,” Oksun said, and the relief was obvious in her voice. “Put her on.”
I took the mic from Riya. “The Citizens are already inside the Dome and Sarika has them bent on destroying the place in the name of redemption.”
But it was Ada’s voice that answered me. “I know. About a half hour ago, the computer registered a magfly leaving through the main tunnels. It had to be Edison. That’s how the mob got in, somehow managing to jam the door mechanism as he left. I sent the flys in when I saw you show up, but it’s not going to stop them for . . . hold on—”
There was the faint sound of urgent voices and the radio was handed back to Oksun. “You have to send Kisaengs out to protect vital areas. We need to save as much of the Dome as we can, for our own sake as well as the Mothers’.”
Riya was already counting out teams, sending them to defend their home. That was all well and good, but I had a horrible feeling that none of this would matter if we didn’t figure out what Edison was up to. The radio signals. The magfly. Earth. “Oksun, can you ask Ada if she’s been picking up any more outside transmissions? Jenner said something about—”
An enormous squeal blasted through the radio. The lights flickered and the whole house went dark.
One of the girls ran out onto the porch, reporting back, “It’s just this street. The others still have power.”
“Oksun?” I tried the radio again, but there was nothing. Not even static.
Riya lit a candle and we made our way to the front porch to see for ourselves. The whole street was dead, though we could still see a little in the glow of the streets behind ours.
I expected my own terror to be reflected in Riya’s eyes. But hers were calm and steely. “Well, we already knew Edison was watching you. Now we know that he’s listening to you too. If you go after him, he’ll be waiting.”
“Listening to me,” I repeated. Wherever Edison was going, he’d want a strong signal, and if he was talking to Earth or whoever, he’d need power for the radio. Something clicked in my mind. “I think I know where he’s heading. Get to the Genetics Lab and tell—”
But I broke off as someone in a white isolation suit came barreling down the street—a swarm of flys following him. He veered toward us and staggered up the porch steps, clutching a limp body in his arms.
CHAPTER 43
“NIK!” I COULDN’T BELIEVE he was here. My heart lifted for a second; then my eyes drifted to the girl he was carrying.
Taschen.
Her skin was a horrible grey, eyes bloodshot, chest barely moving. A swarm of flys buzzed around them.
“The tunnels are barely passable.” Nik’s eyes were frenzied, blazing violently. “I wasn’t sure where to go . . . wasn’t sure where you were. Then the flys came and made a path for us.”
I silently thanked Ada again, tearing my eyes from my sister. Pushing down the wail that was surging up inside of me, I said, “Go around back. I’ll meet you in two minutes.”
Nik nodded and disappeared into the dark. Without looking at me, Riya went inside and addressed the remaining Kisaengs.
“Listen up. You all heard the situation over the radio . . . we’re under attack. I’ve given you your assignments. I know they’re our people, but if we don’t find a way to stop the Citizens from destroying our power generators and food supplies, it’s gonna be a rough, hungry year.” She was magnificent. Learning to fight had just been the first step—tonight had transformed Riya into someone new. I just hoped that tomorrow morning something of the old Riya still remained intact.
I hug
ged her. “Thank you.”
“Go take care of your sister. Then send him to hell . . . just make sure you don’t follow.” Riya handed me the candle. She looked at the room of frozen Kisaengs and said, “Let’s move, folks!”
The room burst into activity, Kisaengs spilling out the front door and into the night.
Then I was alone in the house. Taking a deep breath, I tried to find my center as I walked through the now-empty kitchen, but there was only the liquid ache of grief seeping into me. I opened the back door and there was Nik—an illuminated face in the dense darkness.
“Upstairs.” I could barely get the words out. “Put her in my bed.”
Nik took the stairs two at a time, bounding up into my bedroom. I followed, slower—my mind pleading with every step: No. No. No. Not Tasch.
Nik was tucking the blanket around Taschen when I came in. He turned to me, a deep sadness on his face. “I tried, Leica. I tried to save her, but her organs were too badly damaged. She’s too weak.”
I sat on the bed, smoothing the hair away from Taschen’s burning forehead. It was creased with pain and I ached for her as I wiped a trickle of blood from her mouth. She didn’t open her eyes. They didn’t even flutter.
“I’m so sorry. I thought you should at least be able to say good-bye.” Nik sat across from me, on the other edge of the bed.
“Thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say. My mind was filled with a collapsing dream. Edges tearing off. Sand eating away at the foundations. Me, Taschen, and Lotus together again. A home.
“Lotus?” I forced myself to ask the question. “Did you find her down in the wards too?”
Nik nodded. “But Edison didn’t get a chance to do much to her. Lotus is strong and the thing is . . .” And Nik grabbed my hand, his voice tense with excitement. “I think I found something . . . something that might help her . . . help all of us. I wouldn’t have even thought about it except for what you said about my hand.” And he opened his palm. “No scar.”
I couldn’t follow what Nik was saying. My mind filled with smoke and the whispers of hungry flames. My rage screaming like vultures, calling for death.
Edison had taken it from me. He’d taken my home—the only thing I’d wanted.
And suddenly, I understood something, the pieces clicking into place. Nik was still talking, but I interrupted him. “What does Edison want? More than anything?”
Nik simply stared at me, confused.
“Answer me! What does Edison want more than anything else in the world?” I thought of the hundreds of Citizens sacrificed on the altar of his singular objective.
Nik’s voice was quiet as he said, “To leave the Dome . . . for good.”
“I think he’s found a way.” I was nodding to myself. And my voice was calm, silencing the shrieking in my head as I thought of Edison’s room in the Genetics Lab—cluttered not just with radio parts, but with pieces of the shuttle. “But not just a way to get out of the Dome, but off of Gabriel . . . maybe even to get to Earth. And now he’s headed out to Tierra Muerta. That’s why he let us have our rebellion . . . he wanted us to clear out the Indigno camp for him.”
“Why?”
“Think about it.” And I could hear the impatience in my voice. I could feel it prickling across my skin. “It’s got power for the radio. Tools, supplies, clean water. And most of all, no one to stop him.”
Nik was on his feet. “I’ll go after him—”
“No! This is for me to do,” I said. Nik started to argue, but I cut him off. “You don’t even know where the camp is.”
Now that I understood what Edison was doing—understood what I’d have to do to stop him—I realized I had to get Nik to leave. I had to say all the right things. Whatever it took.
Because I knew what came next and I couldn’t have Nik here, trying to stop me. “You said you found something that might help Lotus. If you can do anything for her . . . for the people in the wards . . .” And I let some of the hurt pooling in my chest escape, tears tripping down my cheek.
“I will. I promise.” His eyes met mine—embers of yellow glimmering in the orange. “Will you be okay?”
He touched the glove of his isolation suit to my face. And I leaned into it. Letting myself have that one tiny moment.
“I’ll be fine,” I lied.
I followed him down the stairs, locking the doors behind him. Then, from my balcony window, I watched the beam of his headlamp get smaller and smaller. Until I was sure he was gone.
“Tasch?” I knelt by the bed, taking her hand, but she just lay there. Limp. Even the lines of pain had faded. Only the faintest pulse in her wrist told me she was still hanging on. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I was going to do that day. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you and Lotus. And I’m sorry I couldn’t save you this time either.”
Indigno. A sob caught in my throat as that single word ricocheted through my mind, the chorus of it threatening to destroy everything in its path.
Sarika is right. The Abuelos are right. God is punishing me.
No. I looked down at my strong hands, twelve wonderful fingers curling into fists. If there was a God, then he would not hate a thing he so carefully made. And he would not punish my beautiful sister for my mistakes. Those are the games of humans.
I kissed Tasch’s forehead, my tears mixing with her blood, and said, “I love you. I know you know that, but I’m gonna say it anyway. I would take your place if I could. But I can’t. The thing I can do—what I’m good at—is fight. I’ll make Edison pay for what he’s done to Pleiades and the Kisaengs and the Mothers. Then I’ll make him pay for doing this to you.”
I’d lost my first dagger in the mob, so I ripped the second one from my bodice and got the candle. Then I walked over to the wall of mirrors and stripped off my costume, carefully laying it at the end of the bed, alongside my mask. My cheeks were smeared with Tasch’s blood from where I’d dried my eyes. I stood there for a moment, staring at my naked, wrong-handed body. I could see myself at every angle—my large breasts, round hips, extra fingers, stubborn face. This powerful, mutated, lovely place I’d inhabited for almost eighteen years.
I knelt down, in case I fainted. In the mirror, I could see the thrum-thrum-thrum of my pulse racing just below the skin at my throat. Breathing deep, I tried to calm down, trying to slow my heart rate so I didn’t make things worse.
Then I reached back, so the point of the knife rested just above my right shoulder blade. I meant to kill Edison. Wherever he was. Whatever he was planning. And I couldn’t do that if he saw me coming.
I shifted the blade up a bit, so it was digging into the skin just under the ropy muscle that ran across my shoulders—estimating where Edison had injected the tracker. Then I made the incision.
The pain was a blanking-out, dizzying sharpness that eviscerated all my other thoughts. I fought against it with everything I had. Pushing the hurt from my mind.
I’d only get one shot at this.
Still, when I stuck my fingers into the wound, I almost passed out. I forced myself to focus on the multitudes of mirrors, but there was so much blood: leaking down my neck, over my breasts, dripping onto the floor.
My fingers were slippery as they dug around inside my own skin. The edges of my vision lit up with stars, a whole sky of them—the darkness kindly offering to swallow me whole. And I wanted it to.
Edison had put the chip in too deep. There was already too much blood. But I kept digging anyway—even as I knew it was too late. I couldn’t hold myself together long enough to staunch the flow.
Then, among the stringy muscles and pain, my fingers hit something. Something hard and thin. The tracker.
Fighting against the dizziness . . . trying to stay conscious . . . I grabbed onto it and pulled. Then I gave in to the stars.
CHAPTER 44
DARKNESS.
I
closed my eyes and opened them again. Still dark. But I heard voices. Faint ones. And screaming. Somewhere in the distance.
Then a pale rectangular glow on the floor. Light coming in through the curtain.
I tried to sit up, but my body was too heavy. I lifted a finger. Then another. The tracker was still clutched in my fist. I willed my hand to open and it slid out, dropping into a pool of blood.
It’d worked. And I was alive. How?
I flexed my whole hand, but it didn’t hurt. I shifted my arm—there was no sharp twinge of pain. Not even a dull one.
I rolled over. The floor was sticky and the room stunk of death and sickness.
I touched my shoulder. It was crusted with blood, but there was no gaping wound. I couldn’t even feel a scar. And suddenly, what Nik said came back to me.
I found something . . . something that might help her . . . help all of us. I wouldn’t have even thought about it except for what you said about my hand. No scar.
And I remembered how quickly he’d healed after he cut himself on the glass. I’d assumed it’d just been part of what made him special. But maybe not. And a small hope flared inside me.
“Get up,” I ordered myself, and my voice came out in a croak. I sat up, using the bed to pull myself into a crouch. I fumbled for the candle on the floor next to me, searching for matches with shaky hands. When I finally managed to get it relit, the dim glow cast shadows over Tasch’s frozen face. Her mouth was slightly agape, her eyes open. I shut them and kissed her forehead.
“‘Wait here and I will return for you.’” My voice shook as I repeated the words of the fairy tale. “She kissed her sisters’ cheeks and locked them inside the forbidden room.”
“When the sorcerer returned, he said to the middle sister, ‘Give me the egg so I know it is safe.’
“And he was surprised to see the shell was white as snow, without a drop of blood to mark it.
“‘You have proven yourself worthy. You shall be my bride.’ And as he uttered those words, his power over her was lost.”
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