The Slave Series

by Laura Frances

  I shake my head and grab Cash’s wrist, smiling in a way that I hope is reassuring. “Sorry. I’m—”

  A roar fills the sky, and I feel the vibrations through my bones. Shadows dart over the ground, and our heads jerk upward. Jets, two of them, cut through patches of clouds, heading right for the factory. Dread drops through me.

  “No!” I take off running, ignoring Cash and Takeshi, who shout at me to take cover. I look back, and Takeshi is running up a fire escape toward the roof of a building. Cash is running after me, gaining on me. I run faster.

  “Hannah! Hannah, get down!”

  The jets veer off, then circle back, the roar deafening. I pump my legs harder, but it isn’t enough. I need to be faster. I slide into an alley, slipping over damp filth. The sound of jets echoes off the walls, but I’ve lost sight of them. Frantic, I search the skies. When my ears pick up their direction, my chest clenches.

  We turn the last corner as the world explodes in a white flash. I’m flying backward through the air, hot wind snapping my head back. I land hard against Cash and roll toward a wall, my face slamming into brick.

  The darkness tries to keep me. I open my eyes, and I am inches from a brick wall. I can see it behind the spots in my vision. I lie still, hearing only my pulse and my breathing. Why am I lying here? Why is the world so silent?

  A tinny ringing fills my ears. I have to move. I don’t remember why, but the urging is strong. I have to move.

  A hand grips my shoulder, and I am rolling, a tumbling block in this empty ringing. I land on my back.

  A face. He leans over me, shaking me. He says things, frightened things, but I can’t hear him. He is yelling at me, the veins in his face and neck bulging, but I can’t hear a word. He frantically touches my cheek, my jaw, my neck. He is blond with brown eyes, and I stare mindlessly at his beautiful, bleeding, angry face.

  In a rush, it returns. And it is too much.

  “No!” I scream. I thrash, pain ripping through my left shoulder, burning across my forehead. I reach for my shoulder and cry out.

  “Hannah!” I hear his yelling now. “Calm down. Calm down!”

  My chest hurts. Pain blossoms in the center, a fist punching through to my back. I gulp in air.

  “No,” I whimper. “No, no, no…” It is the only word my brain can remember.

  Tears stream hot to my ears. Cash checks my head while I fall apart. The images flash in my mind. Closing my eyes is worse. No matter what I do, I see all of them—dead.

  Cash is shaking his head. He twists around, staring at the devastated building that smolders behind him. I watch the rise and fall of his chest and try to copy the rhythm. He looks back to me.

  “It wasn’t the factory.”

  “What?” I use my good arm to sit up. Cash sets a hand on my back, helping me. The world sways. When it comes into focus, I see the factory, for the most part unharmed. On the adjacent block, a warehouse burns. Soldiers run around panicked. I wonder how many were in there. Edan is among them, running toward a man who stumbles from a smoky street. Everyone is scanning the sky.

  “What was it?”

  “Food storage.”

  Food. They have taken our food. This is where I am supposed to fight the dread. I am supposed to remember that we expected this. We know how the Council will act. But it’s hard.

  I breathe out and lie back, bending my knees and pressing a palm to my eyes. I can’t stop the tears. A hundred yards over and they would all be dead.

  “Let’s check your shoulder,” Cash says.

  I obey, sitting up and scooting until my back presses to the wall. I watch Cash’s face as he focuses on assessing the damage. His movements are deft, touching only where necessary. I wince at the pain where his fingers press. His eyes flick to mine a few times. The last time, they stay.

  “Are you okay?” I ask. A cut is drawn across his cheekbone. A bruise is already forming around it. He returns to my shoulder.

  “I’m fine,” he says, but I have seen the winces that certain movements cause.

  “You’re lying,” I say, and the corner of his lips twitch.

  “Maybe.”

  I close my eyes and press my head to the wall. The rough surface scrapes against my skin. I push out a breath, trying to ease the panic that is still coiled inside of me.

  “Look at me,” Cash murmurs. My eyes slowly open, and my gaze drifts lazily to his. I am drawn in by the way he’s looking at me. He doesn’t look at me like I am less—like I’ve grown up a slave. He looks at me like we are equal—like I am important. And it makes me forget. I forget everything.

  I cry out when he jerks my shoulder back into place.

  I would punch him, if I wasn’t hauling my body off the rough ground and stumbling toward the factory, gripping my arm.

  25

  It is chaos as we approach the factory. Black smoke pours from the burning storage building. I stop in the middle of the intersection and turn a slow circle, a hand clenched around my shoulder. Men are shouting, everyone trying to do something, though nothing can be done to save all the food we’ve just lost. I pull the collar of my coat over my mouth when the smoke is too thick in the air. Cash reaches me, and his hand finds the small of my back. I look up and his expression is all apprehension. He’s apologizing, in his silent way.

  “What will happen?” I say, looking back to the building as a wall crumbles. My head throbs where I smacked it, and I touch the skin beside the wound.

  “We have more. Not much, but this wasn’t all of it.”

  “Cash!”

  We spin around at the sound of his name. What we see makes my blood run cold. A man stalks from a nearby street, dressed in Watcher black, the barrel of his pistol aimed to kill us.

  Wrong. Not us. His firing hand shakes, his face flushed, his eyes blood shot. He looks crazed, this man. And all his fury is directed at Cash.

  “Jackson,” Cash says carefully, lifting his hands, palms out. In no time, a crowd has formed, and a dozen guns are pointed at Jackson. Cash moves to shield me. “Jackson, tell me what’s wrong.”

  “You’re so superior,” Jackson spits. His voice sends fear through my chest. Inconsolable. Deranged. Edan slowly approaches us from behind, gun raised. He stands beside Cash, and I am hidden.

  “Tell me what’s happened,” Cash says. “We’re on the same team, Jackson.”

  “You don’t actually believe that, do you?” He turns to the crowd, sweeping his aim. “Do you?!” he shouts. “This man is one of them! He’s a traitor!”

  “Calm down, man,” Edan calls out. “Let’s have a conversation here. Tell us what’s wrong. We’re listening.”

  I press my side into Cash’s back, ignoring the way my shoulder throbs. I’m trembling, and he must feel it. His hand slowly reaches back to touch me. “Talk to me, Jackson,” Cash says.

  “You knew!” Jackson bellows. “Didn’t you? You knew it wouldn’t work.”

  “What are you talking about,” Edan calls out. “What didn’t work?”

  “The medicine.”

  My heart stops dead. I look up at Edan and watch the color drain from his face. His grip on his gun wavers, just a little.

  “What do you mean,” he says, quietly this time.

  “I mean,” Jackson hisses. “That the medicine this man helped steal was planted by the Council. They knew you were coming, you morons!”

  I can’t take my eyes off Edan. His sister was supposed to receive some of that medicine. His jaw tightens, his whole body rigid. He swallows hard and says, “How do you know this?”

  “Because my family received it. And they’re all dead.”

  Tears are slipping down my cheeks before Edan has a chance to process what Jackson is saying. “What?” he croaks. He glares at the man I can’t see and adjusts the grip on his pistol. “How is that…how is that possible?”

  “Ask him.”

  Cash can’t see it, but I can. All of the men standing behind us have shifted their glares. They glance at one an
other, unsure. I spot Solomon moving carefully to the front of the crowd. I’m relieved to see he doesn’t appear suspicious.

  “Jackson, my friend,” Solomon says when he reaches the clearing. “Do you have any true reason to doubt Cash’s loyalty? Apart from his background? Because as I recall, most of the men holding guns here were at one time loyal to the Council.”

  “That’s right!” Takeshi calls out, emerging from the crowd several yards over. “Even you! You have nothing against Cash that can’t be pinned on every one of you.”

  I don’t miss how he excludes himself from that statement.

  Something hits me. A memory—not too long ago. I was in the lab at the factory, and the man with black-rimmed glasses was handing me the medicine.

  Don’t lose it, he mouthed. But now the whole scene plays differently in my mind. Now I know that the Council knew we were coming.

  Don’t lose it, is what I saw.

  Don’t use it, is what he said. Don’t use it. Because it was planted by the Council. It was a trap. Guilt squeezes my stomach. This is my fault. If I had understood what he was saying, none of this would be happening. My breaths come faster now, until I’m dizzy with panic. Jackson will kill Cash. And it will be my fault.

  “I am sorry,” Cash says slowly. “I’m sorry for the loss of your family. Believe me.”

  “I don’t,” Jackson growls.

  The energy in the crowd spikes, and everyone steps forward—guns shifting higher a fraction and eyes sharpening over sites. Solomon stands still with his hands extended, eyes wide. My pulse rages through my body. For a second nobody moves.

  “Drop your weapon!” Takeshi shouts.

  “They’re dead!” Jackson sobs. “There’s no one left!”

  Edan is barely holding himself together.

  “I said drop your weapon.”

  “I didn’t get to say goodbye. I didn’t get to—”

  “Cash is not to blame for this!” Solomon insists. “I give you my word.”

  “Your word means nothing to me. I know who he is. His loyalty will always be to the Council!”

  “You’re wrong,” Edan says, his voice so calm it breaks my heart. It doesn’t match the devastation on his face. “And if you know so much, then you know what a risk he took to be here. This is not his doing.”

  “Maybe,” Jackson says coolly. “But his death will certainly have an impact.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut when shots ring out, and my entire body goes numb. My heart drops, and I’m waiting for Cash to collapse. I’m waiting to collapse with him, for the bullet to travel through him to me. But he doesn’t. Everyone is shouting, but I can’t understand what they’re saying, because I don’t understand why Cash is still standing. He drops to his knee, leaning over a man’s body.

  Jackson is tackled, bleeding from his shoulder and leg, his eyes wide and panicked. He stares at the man lying on the ground. People all around us are screaming. I walk around Cash, and it’s hitting me just as the fallen body comes into view.

  Edan.

  Cash is pressing his hands into Edan’s side, yelling at him. Ordering him to stay awake. Stay awake, Edan! Just stay awake!

  For five long seconds, I am nothing but a waste of air. I don’t move. I don’t think. I don’t speak. I can only gape unbelieving at this scene that can’t be real.

  The scream that rips from me sounds nothing like human noise. I drop to my knees beside Edan, and my hands hover over him like they should do something. I should do something. I can’t do anything. Edan grabs one of my hands and pulls me down until my face is against his face, his ragged breaths in my ear.

  “It’s okay, Hannah,” he says. “It’s going to be okay.”

  But he’s lying. He’s saying the stupid things that dying people say. I sob, my forehead falling against his shoulder. This is my fault.

  “No,” I choke. “You’ll be fine. Solomon will think of something.” They fixed the woman whose arm was blown off. They fixed a man who lost half of his leg. They will fix this. They have to fix this.

  Edan’s hand presses to my face, and he makes me look in his eyes. They are the same eyes that convinced me to run in the alleys that night he saved me. I try to see him past all the tears.

  “You can’t stop, Hannah. Remember what we talked about?” Tears slip to his ears, and his skin is pale white. When he talks, I see the pain it causes him. But there’s nothing I can do. I am useless. He is leaving me, just like everyone else. He reaches up and grabs a handful of Cash’s coat.

  “Do not stop,” he rasps. “Finish this.”

  “You have my word,” Cash says, his face a blend of sadness and rage.

  Why is everyone making demands and promises, and no one is lifting Edan off the ground and carrying him to the Infirmary? No one is rushing to help him. No one is moving. I look up, twist around, and all the faces are staring helplessly—crying, stunned, frozen.

  Takeshi rushes forward, and I think finally. Someone has the sense to act. But instead of carrying Edan off to be treated, he kneels beside me and touches Edan’s shoulder.

  “I’ll check on them,” he says. “I’ll make sure they’re safe.”

  Edan nods and breathes out hard. His eyes close, and I wait for them to open again. I stare at the lids shading the blue, but they don’t lift.

  “Do something…” I say. Not loud enough.

  “Somebody do something!” I shout. Nobody moves. Takeshi drops an arm over my shoulder, and I jerk back.

  I look at Cash, pleading. He’ll understand. It was his life that Edan saved. His eyes are red, and his breaths are heavy. “We need to take him to the Infirmary,” I say, trying to sound calm and rational. “Cash, we need to hurry.” But even he doesn’t move. He stands to his feet, his hands stained with Edan’s blood.

  “You need to say goodbye,” he says, the words catching in his throat. I glare at him.

  “You aren’t even trying—”

  I stop short when I look back to Edan. His chest isn’t moving. My surroundings fade out, and I forget that there are a hundred people gathering to watch this tragedy. It is just my friend, and his chest isn’t moving.

  “Edan,” I sob. But he doesn’t answer. He can’t answer. He will never answer me again. No, I mouth. No. Edan, come back. But he isn’t listening to me. He is somewhere else. Somewhere that the Council cannot reach. I try to breathe, but I’m only gasping, my body limp, empty. And what about Chloe? If the medicine was a trap, did the world just lose them both?

  People are talking, murmuring things, shifting and moving in slow motion. I lay my head on Edan’s chest, but that was a mistake. It is hollow and quiet. The kindest heart is silent. I can’t breathe.

  Cash crosses to me and lifts me from the ground until I’m standing, knees trying to buckle. At first I fight him, but the energy is drained too fast. All I can do is collapse against him and watch helpless as Edan is carried away. I wonder what they do with the dead. I’ve never asked.

  “Come on,” Cash murmurs. But I don’t get two steps before the world goes black.

  26

  I wake up in the Infirmary, gasping. My head is throbbing. Pain screams through my shoulder.

  A warm hand slides into mine, and Cash’s face is hovering over me.

  “Look at me, Hannah. Take a deep breath. With me.” He makes a show of breathing slowly. He wants me to copy him so I will calm down. But his eyes are bloodshot, and his expression weary. All it does is remind me. Hot tears pour from my eyes, wetting the hair gathered at my neck.

  Edan.

  My face contorts, and I roll to my side, sobbing into the flat pillow on this makeshift bed. It doesn’t feel real. I feel like Edan will walk in at any moment and tease me, telling me to quiet down, telling a joke to make me smile.

  Cash crouches beside the bed, leveling our eyes. He reaches out, tentative at first. His fingers slide along my hairline, brushing strands out of my face. He sighs, and his face angles down, his hand falling away. I can’t imagine what
he is feeling. Edan took the bullet that was meant for him.

  As my breathing settles, the rest of me settles too, until I am paralyzed. I have no desire to move, though I’m sure this bed could be more useful to someone else. I lie still, watching Cash struggle. When he looks at me again, his eyes are wet. A tear slides down his cheek. I grab a fist full of his shirt and pull him close until our heads are touching.

  “I’m sorry,” Cash whispers. His head shakes against mine. “I couldn’t save him. I’m sorry.”

  I squeeze my eyes tight. “Don’t apologize,” I say. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” I swallow. “It’s my fault.”

  “What do you mean?” Cash pulls back to see my eyes.

  I need him this close to me. I hesitate, because what if my words make him back away completely?

  “The man who handed me the medicine,” I say. Cash shifts. He’s still leaning over me, but his forearm rests on the bed at my side. His eyebrows pull in.

  “He tried to tell me,” I say, my voice catching. “He mouthed something, but I didn’t understand. Not until now.”

  He looks at me for a long time. I think he can see into my thoughts, the way he’s staring. But as time passes, I never see anger. It is only sadness.

  “It’s not your fault,” he whispers. His thumb rubs a tear that slips down my cheek. “You couldn’t have known.”

  “But they’re all dead,” I say, a breath—because it hurts to say it. “And if I’d understood him, they wouldn’t be. It is my fault.”

  “Hannah,” he says, his eyes stern. “This isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have stopped them dying any more than I could have saved Edan. You are not to blame.”

  I nod. But I don’t believe him.