by Natalie Reid
And the black smoke was not all that haunted her vision. Through the cloud she could see flashes of movement. Something was hiding inside.
“What is that?” she croaked out, still looking at the room through the reflection in the mirror.
“There’s nothing else inside this room but you and me,” he told her.
Something moved at the corner of her eye, and she jerked her head in its direction. A small, black mass jerked through the shadows, giving her only a quick glimpse before it disappeared. It reminded her of the spider she had once seen as a girl. It had climbed up onto the bed in the middle of the night, and she had been too afraid to yell for her mom to wake up. She had stared at it for hours in silent terror as it rested on the sheets with her. At one point it had placed one of its hairy legs on her own leg as if to remind her throughout the night that it was watching her. Now it had come back in this mass of blackness, and she didn’t feel any braver now that she was older.
“The…the man I shot,” she said, facing Jason and trying to ignore the pitching and swaying of the room and the quivering in her legs. “Is he alright?”
He hung his head. “I think so. Help arrived not long after we left.”
She gripped her hand into a fist. “And the plan?” she asked further.
“We had to abandon it,” he said in tired defeat. “Once one of their own had been shot, they would never accept it as a prank.”
“So we’re no closer to finding them?” she asked. Tears fell from her face, and she could see their glint in the mirror but hardly felt the coolness on her skin.
“You can’t blame yourself, Jessie.” He took a step closer towards her. “You couldn’t account for everything that might have happened. And it’s not over yet. I still have that agent. I have men travelling to his apartment as we speak. One way or another, we’ll get the information out of him.”
She gripped her head in her hands and closed her eyes shut.
“What day is it?” she asked.
“It’s Friday, after ten o’clock at night. You’ve been in bed nearly twenty four hours.”
Her heart sunk as she realized that the time she had to convince Nel to come up top to see her dad was all but gone. Not only that, but Ritter himself might be out of the picture. She bit down on her tongue and tried not to scream. She had lost The Thirty, and now she was going to lose her mom all over again.
“Jessie?” Jason asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Her body jerked at his contact, and she shook her head fiercely.
“I can’t take this anymore,” she exclaimed in a strained voice. “I have to get out of here.”
Her legs moved faster than they ever did as she ran for the door. Her vision blurred, but she could see enough not to crash into the walls. People stopped to look at her, but she didn’t care. She moved like she was on fire and nothing would get in her way. Instead of heading towards the lift that led out of Bunker City, she headed towards the piano stadium.
Shapes didn’t sit still as she tried to climb down. She stumbled on the rocks a few times, scraping up her skin, but it did not slow her. She hurried in a blind panic, rushing through the tunnel with the water pipe and into the cave with the underground river. Everything looked black in her eyes, but the small hole of moonlight from the forest above was the only anchor in her vision. Somehow her hands and feet led her over to the cave wall, and she grabbed at anything she could to hoist herself up.
Lifting herself out of that hole and into the night of the forest, she thought she would leave the dizziness behind, but it followed her, making the trees dance in a circle around her.
Jessie ran as fast as she could in the direction in front of her. She didn’t get far before she tripped on a rock and was sent tumbling to the floor. She tried to get up to her feet and continue running, but her body was shaking in sobs.
Collapsing to her knees, she stared up at the night sky and screamed. “Why are you doing this to me?!” She gasped for air and felt the slick of water on her face. “What do you want from me?!”
She stared forlornly up at the sky. She didn’t know why she felt compelled to scream out. She didn’t even know who she was talking to—the world, the trees, something up in the skies or on top of one of the rugged peaks in the distance. Yet, despite all this, she felt as if she was not alone in that forest, that there had to be something listening to her screams.
“You’ve broken me,” she sobbed. “What else do you want?”
She gripped a hand to her chest.
“Is it because of this?” she yelled, staring up at the impossibly far off skies and the tiny dots of light swirling in black smoke. “Is this my punishment for coming back?”
She got back up to her feet and grabbed a rock from the ground. Throwing it as hard as she could, she screamed, “Take me back if that’s what you want!” Her knees fell back down into the dirt. “Just… stop,” she cried softly.
The heaviness in her chest tipped her body forward, but she used all of her strength to stay kneeling. She could feel something staring down at her, and she wanted whatever it was to see her face, bloodied and darkened by the world. Her arms shivered in the immense cold of the night, but she kept her stare fixed on the skies as if it nothing was more important than this.
Then she felt something spread across her chest and trickle down her shirt. It felt warm and comforting. A hand over her heart. She looked at the skies in confusion, wondering if they were somehow doing this. Then she remembered what she had kept in her top pocket.
She reached her hand inside and pulled out the vial of blue flowers. The glass had cracked, and the liquid had spilled out. As she stared down at the blue petals in the moonlight, the dizziness in her eyes began to decrease. She focused solely on the flowers in her hand, letting them fill her vision like a sign given to her by the world. And suddenly it was clear what she had to do. She had tormented herself over Nel’s fate, but now it was as clear as day. The answer was the truth, plain and simple. That’s all she could do, and that was all she needed to do.
* * *
It seemed to Griffin that night took forever to come. He had chosen to eat at The Ancient Ramen Restaurant for what could perhaps be his last meal, but nothing more than a few mouthfuls of noodles and a couple bites of green vegetable made it past his fork and into his stomach. It was hard for him to eat when he had come to the realization that he was, in fact, prepared to die for Harper that night.
Before dinner, he had taken his bike to work, and in the back room had painted over the blue lights that lit up whenever it was running. It was sad, almost, covering up something so beautiful and powerful. Whenever people saw those blue circles, they knew to run or show respect. Now Griffin was covering them in black like he was infecting the spirit of the bike with the Bandit.
Before leaving his work, he gave his old manuals and the odd invention or two one last glance. He felt like he was leaving the world, or at least his old life behind. He had even smudged black work oil over his face and donned a thick cap to hide his features.
When he reached the building on Sprocket Street, it was ten thirty at night. He had gone over the plan in his head a dozen times that afternoon. He needed to start a few minutes before eleven. Eleven was when the Aero City speaker system came on, and a recording of Ward’s voice blasted through the entire city, giving the names of each wanted fugitive and reminding all citizens to remain diligent in their fight against the Bandit. His announcements always lasted at least several minutes, giving Griffin the perfect window of opportunity he needed.
Looking down, he checked his wrist watch. It was funny, but with the mysterious disappearance of his tablet, having a wrist watch was the only way he could tell time. He had thought about retracing his steps the night he had followed the government man back to his home to see if he had dropped his tablet anywhere, but he didn’t fancy on running into him again, and so figured that he could make it just fine without a tablet.
Checking the time on th
e watch, he urged the hands on the face to move faster, and then changed his mind and told them to go slower. He went over the plan in his head again. It seemed more absurd each time he ran through it. He checked his pockets. He had brought a dozen of those tiny balls, each a different color. In his other pocket was the detonator to set them off. He had put a strip of colored paint next to each button so he could tell them apart.
Choosing an alley way, he walked his bike behind one of the nearby buildings, and began making his way towards the gray fortress at an angle in which he wouldn’t be seen.
The building next to it was a clothing store. Griffin had pretended to shop inside of it earlier that day, making sure to leave the green ball inside the lock of a window in the back. When he found the window, he squatted to the floor and took out his switch board of detonators. It was hard to distinguish color in the dark, so he took out a flashlight and squinted to better see the buttons. When he found the green one, he pressed the button once, and then immediately again.
Metal clanked inside the building, and he held his breath, hoping that he had shrunk the ball quickly enough so that he only broke the lock and not the window. When he didn’t hear the sound of breaking glass, he slowly stood up to see his work. The metal lock that bolted the window shut was on the floor, and the green ball was rolling away, as if absconding from the scene of the crime.
He tapped at the base of the window, and it freely swung open. He nearly laughed at his ingenuity, but the threat of what could be happening to Harper kept his mind focused.
Moving slowly and quietly, he stuck his front half into the window. Since he had never entered a room by window before, he ended up squirming like a worm, twisting and wriggling himself forward until he could get all of himself through. When he stood up, he straightened his clothes, trying to maintain at least a small sense of dignity, and then went to retrieve the metal green ball that was trying to escape.
Once he had pocketed it, he went for the back door. It rested only a few feet from the window. Jamming it open, he walked his bike inside. From his earlier scope-out of the building, he knew there was a second floor that reached just a little higher than the building he wanted to get onto. He wasn’t able to see the stairs from the front of the store, but he knew they had to be somewhere.
Going to a door in the back room, he opened it and found a broom closet. He shook his head and closed it. He went to the door next to it. This time he was met with the sight of stairs. He pumped his fist in victory, trying to psych himself up for what he knew he had to do.
Swinging himself onto the bike, he started the quiet purr of its engine. The bike hovered off the ground, and its strong and steady hum gave him the allusion of comfort. Then he aimed the bike towards the stairs, and began ascending them at a rapid pace. Since the bike did not actually touch the ground, the trip up was not nearly as tumultuous as he thought it might be.
Reaching the top, he got off his bike so that he could push open the door and come out onto the roof of the building. Overhead, clouds were beginning to block the light of the moon.
“Which night?” he whispered aloud as he looked up to the skies, as if this question might somehow be answered now that he was going to put himself in mortal danger.
He turned towards the fortress. There was no movement around it. It just stood there, waiting for him, daring him to put his plan into action and see what happened.
He got back on the bike. He wondered what his dad would think of him. He drove backwards to give himself more room to jump. He wondered what Harper would say once he told her how he had rescued her. The bike zoomed forward. He was a black spot in the night. He left the roof and flew through the air. He was a bird as mighty as magic. He landed on the roof with a thud. He was a boy in pain.
The wind was knocked out of him, and he nearly flew from his bike. It wavered for a moment, as if he was zigzagging though a trail of ants, but he managed to keep his balance. When he could, he planted his feet on the ground and breathed a sigh of relief, followed closely by a moan of pain. But he had made it onto the roof! Anticipation thrummed through his legs as he realized that Harper could be somewhere below him at this very moment. He dearly wished he could see through the walls just so he could catch of glimpse of her and know she was still alive.
He set the bike down and went over to the vent that stuck out from the ceiling. He pulled out the metal balls in his pocket and fished around for the golden one. He picked it for good luck.
“Be brave little guy,” he whispered to it in his palm.
Then he dropped it down the vent. He heard it make a small plop inside the metal corridor, and then roll a few feet before stopping.
Everything was in place now. All that was left was to wait.
* * *
When Jessie entered back into the cave through the hole in the ceiling, a small figure waited for her by the edge of the river. She couldn’t see who it was, but she could only think of one other person that knew about this place.
She climbed down the rocks with careful ease this time, and quietly walked up to where she stood waiting. Instead of saying anything, she took a seat on the hard cave floor near her feet.
“I saw you go,” Nel said in her sad, child-like voice. “I was worried that you wouldn’t come back.” She looked down at Jessie’s face, and let out a small gasp of surprise upon seeing the line of red going down her eye. “Does it hurt?” she asked, scrunching her face in the pain of sympathy.
“A little.”
“Why…” Nel started to ask. She looked down at her shoes, and finished, “Why did you come back?”
“I came back for you,” she told her.
The young girl’s face flew to meet hers in surprise.
“The truth is, Nel,” Jessie continued, “I only joined the Resistance because of you.”
“Me?” she asked. Her forehead creased in confusion. “Why? How would you even…”
Before she could finish stumbling through her questions, Jessie reached her hand into her pocket and pulled out the blue flowers. They were free of their glass case, but they still looked alive in her hands.
Nel gaped silently at the flowers, and Jessie stared at the frozen girl’s face, hoping that she would not run away.
“I think you can guess why I’m here, Nel,” she said softly. “He sent me down here because he thought you needed saving.”
Nel shook her head and blinked away the tears in her eyes. “No. No, he…he is a liar…a horrible…”
“I know everything he’s done,” Jessie cut in. “I know firsthand what kind of a man he is.”
“Then you know you can’t take me to him!” she cried out.
Jessie’s face softened. “And I’m not going to. Not if you don’t want me to.”
Nel lowered herself to her knees and sat down on the floor. She seemed to relax a little. After a few moments, she turned her head to stare at the scar on Jessie’s face.
“That’s because of me,” she said.
“Sorry?”
“The only reason you have that is because you came down here to get me. It’s my fault.”
“No Nel,” she said, reaching out a hand to take hers. “This isn’t your fault. You did nothing wrong.”
“But you wouldn’t have had to go out there if you didn’t need to—”
Jessie shook her head. “No, when I came down here and discovered you were alright, that you didn’t really need saving, I could have gone that day.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Jessie looked down to the flowers in her hands and spun them around. She pictured her mom watching her right now. She knew what she had to do, but she didn’t know if it would work. She had to tell Nel the truth about everything. What happened next would be up to her.
* * *
The time read two minutes to eleven. It was time for Griffin to get off the roof. This was the part of this plan he was most looking forward to. From the stories he heard, and from what he knew about the nature of the ho
ver bike, they could fall down great distances fairly easily.
He took a peak over the side of the building to make sure no one was watching, and then launched himself over the edge. The bike left the building at an angle, and the engine inside worked hard to slow his descent. The flight left him with an amazing feeling of elation. He was floating almost, like riding a slow current of air. It made him feel as if he belonged up there, that he should have tried flying long ago. And a thought occurred to him that maybe his fathered had named him after a bird for a reason. Maybe he was born to fly.
When he was a foot from the ground, the bike shook at the impact, but it was mild considering the height he had just jumped from. Getting off his bike, he leaned it against the side of the building, prepping it for his escape. He crouched in the shadows and looked at his watch. It was hard to see the hands in relation to the numbers. He decided to wait a few more seconds before pulling out his switch board.
The top button was for the gold ball, and the second was for the silver, the one in the door. He placed his fingers on the button for the gold and held his breath. Less than a minute to eleven o’clock. He pressed the gold button. The ball grew in size, and he could hear it clambering down the metal vent, drawing the attention of those inside. He pushed the button to shrink it back down, and then waited a few more seconds before doing it again. The clamoring of metal on metal sounded more distant this time.
Just a few more seconds until eleven. He didn’t know if the man in the front room had been drawn away, but he had to hope for the best. He pressed the gold button repeatedly, causing a ruckus that was sure to grab the attention of even the most absent-minded person.
Eleven o’clock struck. With it, the speakers all over the city blasted in the beep of the intercom system. Griffin had been ready for it. The moment he heard the beep, he moved his hand down the switch board and pressed the second button. The wooden frame of the door shattered, but the noise it created was muffled by the speaker system. Ward began to talk, filling the air with a blanket of sound.
