by Aimee Carter
“Here.” He handed me a black knit hat and sunglasses. “It isn’t the best disguise, but we only need to get into that alleyway.”
“Your face is just as familiar as mine is,” I pointed out as I put them on. He shrugged.
“I’ll pull my hood up. We’ll be fine.”
That was about as ominous as he could get, but the entrance into the tunnel that led underneath Somerset wasn’t far. Fifty feet at the most, buried in the alleyway behind a rusted door no self-respecting V or VI would have ever touched. As far as I knew, there were no cameras in the alleyway—there couldn’t possibly be, not when that tunnel had gone undiscovered for so long.
We piled out of the car into a misting rain, and when he offered me his elbow, I took it. This wasn’t entirely unlike the first time we’d wandered the city together, shortly after a bombing had put the Hart family into lockdown. Rather than behave, we’d snuck out for a night at a club—or at least that was what I’d thought. Instead, Knox had tried to negotiate a weapons acquisition, and that had been the first time I’d noticed there was much more to him than the facade of a spoiled Minister’s son he showed the world.
We made it to the door without incident. Knox pulled the rusting handle, and I could sense his relief when it opened to reveal a dark descending stairway. “Ladies first.”
“You just want me to take the bullet for you,” I said, but I ducked inside anyway. I remembered exactly how many steps it took to reach the bottom, and I counted in my head as Knox pulled the door shut, leaving us in complete darkness.
“Someone took the flashlight,” he said, his heavy footsteps following mine.
“We don’t need it. It’s a straight shot.” Once we reached Somerset, there would be enough ambient light for us to make it through to Knox’s old suite, where a trapdoor opened up into his closet. In the meantime, I ran my hand along the dirt wall, smooth from I didn’t know how many years of use. Someone had built this tunnel at some point, but until Knox had revealed it to me, he and Lila had been the only two living people to know about it. Not so much anymore.
“I can’t believe they left this unguarded,” I said a few hundred feet later. It was eerie, walking through pitch blackness, not knowing for sure where it would end. Against my better judgment, I reached back and grabbed the first part of Knox I could find: his sleeve.
“We’ll find out once we reach Somerset,” he muttered, prying my grip from his jacket and taking my hand instead. His skin was warm and rough, and despite the tension in his voice, he wrapped his fingers around mine gently. “If they’re smart, they’ll have guards stationed at that entrance, and they’ll know we’re coming. If the Shields tried to infiltrate this way, it would be like shooting fish in a barrel.”
“Why would you want to shoot fish in a barrel?” I said. “That metaphor makes no sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” he argued. “It’s not about why you’d do it. It’s about how easy it would be if you did—”
He stopped suddenly, tugging me back when I tried to keep going. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” I said. “If there’s someone at the end of the tunnel, we’ll tell them who we are, and—”
“No need, Kitty.” A woman’s voice sounded only a foot away from me, and I heard the click of a gun behind me. “I know exactly who you are.”
VI
Sacrifice
It had been months since I’d seen her face-to-face, but I would have recognized Celia Hart’s voice anywhere. Even underground in a black tunnel, with my heart pounding and adrenaline rushing through my body like I was in a race, I could picture her in my mind, clear as anything. Dark hair so unlike her daughter’s, blue eyes, the porcelain Hart skin; tall and athletic, with a strong jaw, a beauty mark below her left eye, and a look of disdain for anyone who dared to get in her way.
“Is this really necessary?” said Knox calmly.
“Yes, it is. And get your hand off your weapon,” she said. “There’s another soldier behind you, ready to pull the trigger if you so much as unholster it.”
She must have been wearing night vision goggles, I realized. No wonder she’d been able to sneak up on us without either of us figuring it out. Now that I knew she was here, I could smell her shampoo and sense the heat of her body in the cool air.
“We’re not the enemy, Celia,” said Knox. “There’s no reason for this.”
“There’s every reason for it when I’ve gone to the trouble of stabbing my fake brother in the heart and hanging him up by his neck, only to discover it wasn’t my fake brother after all.” She nudged the small of my back with her gun. “Start walking, Kitty.”
I stumbled forward in the darkness, not letting go of Knox’s hand. “You think we’re Masked?”
“If you really are who you say you are, you didn’t tell me you were coming,” she said. “You gave no indication you had any desire to visit D.C. And considering we have a strong family tradition of forcing other people to look like us for money, rank, or so-called patriotism, yes, I think it’s a strong possibility that the impostor would have gone to this sort of trouble.”
There were a thousand things I could have said to prove to her I was who I claimed to be—we’d had enough private conversations that it wouldn’t have been hard to pull up some small scrap of memory only the two of us would have. But Knox would have been able to do the same, and yet he didn’t. So for now, I stayed silent.
“How do we know you’re really who you claim to be?” said Knox. “The Celia I know would never point a gun at my head.”
“I’m not pointing my gun at you. I’m pointing my gun at Kitty,” she said. “Goulding is pointing his gun at you.”
“Ah. Morning, Goulding,” said Knox. “Or afternoon now, I suppose. It’s been a while. How’s Jessica?”
“Good,” grunted a low voice behind us. “Due any day now.”
“And you’re still making the poor man work, Celia?” There was an easygoing quality to his tone, the sort that was supposed to relax everyone. I’d heard it before, when he’d been trying to calm me down or get on my good side, and I’d thought I was immune to it by now. But even with Celia digging the barrel of her gun into my jacket, I couldn’t help but breathe a little easier. Whatever this was about, we would get it sorted out soon enough.
The tunnel was long—nearly a mile, if I had estimated correctly, but in the darkness, it felt three times that. Finally, Celia warned me about the upcoming staircase, and I took the steps two at a time, eager to get my vision back.
As Knox had predicted, a pair of guards stood waiting at the secret entrance—or not so secret anymore, I supposed—to Somerset. I only saw them when one pushed open the door, and light flooded the tunnel at last. Even though it was barely brighter than candlelight, I squinted.
“Kitty, Goulding will take you to Knox’s old room,” said Celia, and I frowned.
“Don’t you want to make sure it’s me first?”
“I can tell it’s you,” she said. “You’re not nearly as mysterious as you think. Knox, you’re coming with me.”
“I would rather not be separated from Kitty, if you don’t mind,” he said. “It’s been a rough night and day for both of us.”
“Too bad. Once I debrief you, you’ll have plenty of opportunity to relax,” she said. “I assume that’s why you came, after all. To discuss the ground my team gained last night.”
“We’re all part of the same team,” he grumbled, then glanced at me. “All right with this?”
“I don’t need a babysitter, Knox,” I said testily. Besides, that would give me plenty of time to retrieve the file while Celia was distracted. It wasn’t exactly what we’d planned, but it wasn’t the first time we’d had to wing it, either.
“I see Elsewhere didn’t starve the feistiness out of you,” said Celia. “Come on,
Lennox. I don’t have all day.”
Reluctantly Knox followed Celia through another passageway, one I’d never gotten around to exploring. I’d had my own way around Somerset, and any passage Knox knew about, at the time, had been practically worthless to me. But it must have been useful to the Blackcoats; on our way up the stairs and through the creaking attic, we ran into four more members of the rebellion, and each offered me a flash of a smile and a greeting.
“Down you go,” said Goulding as he opened the trapdoor for me. I lowered myself into Knox’s old closet, wrinkling my nose at the scent of dirty clothes. In the living room of his suite, I plopped down on the leather couch, toeing off my boots and stretching my legs as if I had every intention of staying put for a nice, long nap. Goulding, however, lingered near the door, his stance square like a trained soldier’s. Apparently I wasn’t the only one settling in for the afternoon.
“Is this your first baby?” I said, and he nodded.
“Just got married last year.”
“Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?” I said. He didn’t look much older than me, and the thought of having a kid sometime in the next five years was terrifying. If I even survived that long.
“We’re hoping to be surprised,” he said gruffly.
“Congratulations,” I said with a smile I genuinely meant. It was jarring to hear other people’s lives were continuing almost exactly as they had been before the rebellion—even for other Blackcoats—but of course they were. The entire world hadn’t stopped just because I’d been Masked and thrown into Elsewhere. And at least it wasn’t all death and darkness. Goulding’s expression didn’t change, however, and I lay down, too afraid of falling asleep to actually close my eyes. If he was going to stay, then I had to come up with a way out of here, and fast.
There were no vents large enough for me to crawl through in the bathroom or the bedroom—I’d looked months ago, just in case. The only vent I could get through was the one directly above Knox’s desk, a few feet away from where Goulding stood. And I highly doubted Goulding would be willing to let me leave right in front of him.
“Do you know how long Celia’s going to talk to Knox?” I said idly, and Goulding shook his head. “Am I allowed to walk around, or do I need to stick to this suite?”
He managed an apologetic look, at least. “Celia’s orders.”
“Knox runs the Blackcoats, too, you know,” I muttered.
“You report to Knox, I report to Celia.”
I made a face and sat up. “I do not report to Knox. I don’t report to anyone.”
“My mistake, Miss Hart.”
Collapsing back on the couch, I huffed. “Doe. My last name’s Doe.” It was the same last name given to all the Extras and orphans in my group home, though now that I knew who my biological parents were, I supposed my last name really was Hart. Or would be, if I decided to take it.
That was a decision best left for another time, when the entire war wasn’t riding on me bypassing Goulding and retrieving the file. I eventually curled up on my side, facing away from him, and forced my breathing to remain steady, hoping if he thought I was asleep, he would slip away. No such luck. He couldn’t stand guard over me indefinitely, though. Eventually he would have to use the bathroom, or his shift would end, and he would go home to his wife and unborn baby. Nothing lasted forever, although by the time he finally did move, it felt like hours had passed.
“What?” A crackle of static burst through the silence of the room, and I twisted around. Goulding pressed his earpiece and ducked his head, as if that would stop me from hearing everything he said. “In broad daylight? How long do we have?”
Suddenly an earsplitting siren began to wail, and I jumped off the sofa and pulled my boots back on, fear coursing through me. “What the hell’s going on?”
“You need to come with me,” said Goulding, and he crossed the room before I could tie my laces. Taking my elbow, he half guided, half dragged me to the door and shoved it open.
“You need to tell me exactly what’s going on,” I said, trying to yank my arm from him. His grip tightened, and we darted down the hallway toward the stairwell.
“Somerset is under attack. The government is retaliat—”
Suddenly a deafening blast ripped through the manor, and the ceiling gave way, raining fiery debris over us. A block of cement landed squarely on my foot, and I yelped as I felt the bones snap. Goulding shoved me back toward Knox’s suite, and I took off running as fast as I could, doing my best to ignore the pain.
I shouted Goulding’s name as I ran, but if I had any voice, the ringing in my ears drowned it out. When I reached Knox’s door, I pushed it open and whirled around, ready to grab Goulding and pull him in.
But he wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere, and the ceiling in the hallway had caved in completely, leaving a mountain of burning rubble exactly where Goulding had stood.
My stomach lurched with shock and fear and grief for his poor wife and baby, but there was no time to be sick. Instead I burst into Knox’s suite and climbed into the vent, my pulse racing, my hands sweaty, and my foot throbbing. Any second, another bomb could drop and kill me instantly, and no one would know until they found my body days or weeks or even months later. But I had to get that file. The outcome of the entire war depended on it.
Time seemed to alternate between standing still and jumping forward, leaving me with holes in my memory. One moment, I was crawling through the vents, and the next, I stood on a bookcase in the drawing room, rooting around the vent for the loose sheet of metal that had cut me four times before I’d learned to avoid it. I wasn’t sure what had caused it, exactly, but it allowed for a thin space between the vent and the ceiling, perfect for stashing the file.
At last my fingers brushed the edges of the folder and, with effort, I managed to coax it out from its hiding place. I flipped it open and hastily skimmed through it. I couldn’t read the official documents, but they all seemed to be there, along with the single picture of Victor Mercer. No one had found it. No one had stolen the crucial information we would need to expose him, and we finally had a shot at winning this war.
Shouts rose from the atrium just outside the drawing room, and I ducked, clutching the folder to my chest. My hearing was still iffy at best, but I could make out the words over the hum.
“Fan out!” barked a man. “The Prime Minister wants his sister and the leaders alive, but kill any other rebel on sight.”
Terrific. I hauled myself back into the vents and scrambled back to the residential wing, my injured foot protesting with every shake and jolt. If I could make it to Knox’s room, I could reach the passageway that connected to the tunnel. It was my only chance of getting out of here.
Silently I hoped that Knox had somehow managed to escape. Fighting was useless. It would only get more people killed, but Celia was undoubtedly too stubborn to give in. She’d fight to the death, I was sure of it. I could only pray she didn’t take Knox down with her.
Time did that funny jump thing again. Maybe it was the adrenaline and fear, or maybe I’d hit my head and hadn’t noticed. Either way, before I knew it, I dropped into Knox’s room, landing hard on his desk. Another bone in my foot snapped, and I cried out, balancing on the other one instead.
Somehow, miracle of all miracles, Knox was there, and he wrapped his arms firmly around me and helped me to the ground. Dust streaked his face, and there was a shallow cut below his eye, but he was there. He was okay. “What happened, Kitty?”
“Goulding—Goulding is dead, and there are armed soldiers heading our way,” I said through gritted teeth. I could feel a sharp edge of bone tearing at my skin, trying to slide out. “I have the file.”
“Figured that was where you were,” said Knox, but he couldn’t hide the naked relief on his face. “I’m getting you out of here.”
I tried to put pres
sure on my broken foot, and excruciating pain shot through me like a thousand volts of electricity. “I can’t—I can’t walk.”
Shouts echoed down the hallway. The soldiers were getting closer. “I’ll carry you,” said Knox, but before he could pick me up, I shoved the file toward him.
“You can’t carry me and run all the way back to the car.”
“Yes, I can. I’m not having this argument with you right now, Kitty.”
The shouts grew louder, and anger pulsed through me. “They are seconds away from bursting in here. If you were the one who couldn’t walk, you’d make me do the exact same thing. You need to get this file out of here. The entire rebellion is counting on it.”
At last his fingers closed around the folder, and his face contorted into a look I’d never seen from him before. “Here—” He fumbled with his holster. “Take my gun. It’ll give you a fighting chance.”
“They’ll kill me for sure if I’m armed. Unarmed, there’s a chance they won’t.” Someone banged on Lila’s door, and I winced. “I can only buy you so much time, Knox. Go.”
He touched my cheek wordlessly, his eyes shining as he held my gaze for an infinite second. “You’re one of a kind, Kitty,” he said thickly. “Wherever they take you, I’ll find you.”
I managed a short nod, my throat constricting too tightly for me to speak. But it didn’t matter—he didn’t give me time to reply. One moment he was there, and the next he was gone. And for three quiet seconds, I was alone.
The door burst open in a shower of splinters and chunks of wood, and four armed men carrying shields and automatic weapons spilled inside. Their shouts melded together into a wall of noise I couldn’t comprehend, but I held up my hands and made sure they could see my face.
One of the men stormed toward me. “The double is here,” he said into his sleeve before grabbing my hands and forcing them behind my back. Metal cuffs tightened around my wrists, and I winced.
