Dead Moon Rising

by Caitlin Sangster

  Goose bumps break out across my arms and down my neck as I remember the boy earlier reminding us to go to the People’s Gate. That’s not too far from here.

  It wasn’t just us who knew about the big gathering tonight.

  I stare into the darkness, my legs shaking though I’m standing still. Behind me, a muted sort of roar erupts into the night from the lit area below. The sound of a crowd cheering. Like the ones at old City denunciation meetings, drunk on the idea of blood. Like the one Father watched from under the shadow of Traitor’s Arch on the day of his execution, his wife standing over his head, her eyes closed. The same place my old friend Sister Shang met her end.

  I can’t change what was done in the past, but tonight it’s Howl’s head they mean to display. I will not lose one more person to that Arch.

  Before I can finish this, though, there’s one more thing I need to do. I take out the link and type, I’m here. Are they ready for me?

  The reply comes immediately. The Seconds farthest to the left of the City Center. Show them your birthmark and they’ll let you in. Come fast. Dr. Yang is about to start.

  * * *

  I have to weave in and out of the torch line more than once before I get to the People’s Gate and the bridge that fords the river between the First Quarter and the People’s Square. I keep watch but don’t see anyone hiding in the streets or gathering under the gate. Long before I’m close, my view of the City Center seems to pulse, the whole square lit up for the last day of Guonian, paper lanterns softly glowing overhead.

  The sight chills me even more than the frosty air, and I wonder once again whether the Port Northian heli that forced everyone to evacuate Dazhai is now here, hovering overhead, waiting for the right moment to strike. What good does it do to gather everyone together and then send up flares telling the enemy exactly where to find you?

  As I draw nearer, the murmur of many voices speaking all together reaches me from below, benches set up in the shattered remains of the City Center. The building’s roof is gone, the walls on the far side of the market reduced to a rubble of scorched marble blocks, and what used to be windows grin up at me in a gap-toothed smile, most of the panes broken out.

  Traitor’s Arch, however, is whole, even the stairs that lead up to where Mother’s glass box used to sit, though the platform is now empty. Air seems to crackle around me as I sneak through the ruins of the People’s Gate. Yuan Zhiwei’s statue just below the square stands bereft, the lantern light catching on the blade of his ax.

  A shadow detaches from an alleyway only a few feet away. For a split second I’m paralyzed with fear until the shadow resolves into Kasim’s wide form. “Done sightseeing?” he asks.

  In answer, I start down the hill toward the City Center and the guards ringing the square. Following the Chairman’s instructions, Kasim leads me to the left side, the two of us coming out into the lantern light just as a sharp crack splinters the air. I duck, my heart startling into a gallop as I look around for the source of the shooting.

  Instead, an echoing boom shudders through the air, and a bloom of red explodes in the sky above the square. Kasim and I freeze.

  Guonian always ends this way, but simply knowing it was a fireworks display can’t make me forget how close it sounded to chemical bombs. Another ground-shaking boom tears through the sky, and I duck down, flashing back to the day Menghu bombed the library, Tai-ge’s father falling bloody at my feet.

  “What is Dr. Yang playing at?” Kasim whispers. He puts a hand on my arm, walking close enough that it feels almost as if he’s putting himself between me and the Reds.

  There are some very terrible memories in my head dedicated to Kasim, but here he is, standing between me and City soldiers as if he can’t help himself. An odd feeling comes over me, a memory of Howl’s voice like an echo in my ear: I just want to live through this.

  I guess we all do, and all of us have the blood on our hands to prove it. The gun feels cold, heavy, wrong where it’s tucked inside my coat. I don’t want to do this. But it’s the only option.

  “Weapons?” The guard closest to us looks up as we approach, his red stars looking muddy and tarnished at his collar. “Don’t try to hold anything back. We’ve been instructed to search everyone who comes in, and if you attempt to bring a weapon, we’ll have to assume you mean to use it.”

  I open the buckles at the side of my mask, pulling it down and baring the brown birthmark—no, tattoo—that has marked me as my mother’s daughter my whole life. Butterflies churn in my belly as his eyes slide over the pigmentation in my skin.

  One hand on his weapon, the Red meets my eyes. My stomach clenches when he doesn’t say anything. Did we go to the wrong guard? Did the Chairman decide he doesn’t want us at the execution after all? Or maybe he forgot to tell this man that, for the first time ever, he wants a Fourth to have a gun.

  His muscles tense. So do mine, as if that will somehow stop a bullet when he decides to shoot me.

  But then, he nods us in.

  CHAPTER 62 Sev

  MEMORIES ARE MADE UP OF flashes of color, pungent smells, and feelings strong enough to take you over. Entering the charred remains of my mother’s former tomb—not to mention my own attempted murder by Dr. Yang—smells like the char of nightmares, the chemical tang of tubes and pipes that kept my mother alive until I disconnected her. There are benches set in front of the Arch filled with Firsts and Seconds on one side and Menghu on the other. All seem to have hands inside their coats, City- and Mountain-folk alike searching for the weapons that have been taken away from them. At the very front, standing at the base of the Arch like a dog at attention, Helix heads a group of Menghu who watch the crowd.

  I’d be willing to bet he has a weapon.

  Dr. Yang climbs up onto the Arch just as Kasim and I reach the benches, filtering in with the last stragglers from the Third Quarter and coming to rest in the place my mother once stared down at. Raising his hands, Dr. Yang’s mouth opens to speak just as another gunpowder boom traces fire across the sky, lighting his face with gold.

  “We are here together in a place long fought over,” Dr. Yang begins once the firework’s sound has faded from our ears. His voice, distorted by his gas mask, is amplified through the speakers set up to either side of the Arch. “We are here, old enemies, at a time when families should be together. We come mourning instead. Fathers, mothers, children. Gone.”

  I crane my neck, combing the audience for the people we seek. General Hong. The Chairman. Howl. From the back, it’s hard to see much of anything. Kasim nudges me, inching to the side, but I’m not sure what he wants me to do. We can’t walk up the aisles to get a better view of the room, not when everyone else is sitting so nicely, paying attention. Plus, shooting Dr. Yang now would mean that the Chairman and General Hong, wherever they are, would fly free. And who knows what would happen to Howl? We need to see all four before we can move.

  I touch the gun inside my coat. I’ve always been a passable marksman. When I was young, I practiced until I could hit any target. Kasim tested me before we left, showing me a pinecone, a snowy branch, a knot in a tree, and asking me to shoot. I can still do it. It’s just that shooting a human isn’t quite the same thing.

  “We come with war hanging on us like death.” Dr. Yang holds a hand up as if to take in the destruction of the building, of the torches glowing hot in the night, and the eyes waiting on the other side. “Our old enemy has given us a disease we cannot fight. Rebels have taught those who could help us to keep the cure to themselves. And now even our refuges are threatened by helis carrying weapons that were outlawed during the Influenza War.”

  Dr. Yang looks up at the sky, the night reflected in his eyes. His speech is coming faster now, as if there’s a timer on his words and he’s about to run out. “Tonight, I want to show you what we—City and Mountain—could be if we worked together.”

  Which is when I hear it. Not the drone of a heli hovering above or the roar of one landing. Not the hiss and scream o
f chemical bombs pouring from the night sky. It’s a sort of dry flapping sound, almost too quiet to register. But the Menghu around me begin to murmur the moment their ears capture the sound, some going as far as to stand and head for the edges of the lighted square.

  “Stay where you are!” Dr. Yang’s command raps out even as my stomach churns. What is it that has everyone so frightened?

  Another firework hisses into the night sky, crowning over our heads in a red glory and lighting up the metal hull of a heli lurking in the sky.

  “Don’t be afraid.” Dr. Yang smiles benevolently down on us. His light tenor voice is strained as he looks at the heli’s black outline against the sky.

  Kasim swears, grabbing my arm to haul me to my feet. “Maybe all he ever wanted was to kill us,” he rasps. “Come on. We run.”

  Just as we clear the benches, a deeper crack than the cannon launching the fireworks tears through my ears, and then another and another in quick succession, blinding me with their light. I stumble, Kasim’s hand around my arm tightening as he tries to drag me up from the ground.

  The world seems imprinted in purple and ghostly white, all except for an angry orange roar in the air where the heli was, dribbling flames down as it careens to the ground out in the forest below. Something black flashed across the glow just before it fell, as if the occupants jumped out to avoid the flames. Would the fall be better than burning?

  “Look at me,” the doctor’s voice purrs. “When we were separated Outside and fending for ourselves, it took one heli to send us running. But here, with all of us together, it was easy to lure it. To destroy it. The weapon was a combination of technology discovered in the City and the Mountain, the execution of this plan facilitated by good people on both sides.” His voice rises even as a group stands up from the front row of benches to stand next to him. “With City walls, Menghu military expertise, with our engineers, workers, medics, and researchers all working together, look what we are capable of!”

  My heart gallops back and forth in my chest, and I’m still blinking away the afterimages of whatever it was they used to shoot down the black heli. But even as my sight returns, all I can see are flames on the forest floor.

  Kasim tugs my arm, leading me farther up the benches, his walk quick and intentional. My breath hitches in my chest as I see why he’s changed course so suddenly, and I match my stride to his, ending up near the middle of the benches with a clear view of the people at the front.

  Just below the doctor, Chairman Sun and General Hong stand to either side of the Arch.

  My gut clenches as we slide onto the bench. Still no Howl. Wasn’t this supposed to be his execution?

  The crowd doesn’t respond to Dr. Yang’s invitation to cheer. I suppose it was obvious from the moment we stepped off the heli that City and Mountain forces did not like the idea of sharing space. It seems to be distilled into this moment, murmurs rumbling out from both sides of the room. Why? they seem to say. Why invite Outsiders and murderers into our midst? from the Firsts and Seconds, while the Mountain-folk seem to think the arrangement that Dr. Yang had before—where they were taking everything they wanted from the City without restraint—a much better plan.

  “To demonstrate our goodwill, our first act as a united people will be to show you what happens to those who have worked so hard to keep us at odds.” Dr. Yang raises one hand in invitation, and three Menghu muscle a fourth figure out into the gaping maw under the Arch. He looks thin. Pale. Complacent, though it seems his guards want him to put up a fight, pushing him roughly to his knees under Dr. Yang’s feet.

  Howl.

  “We’ve got them,” Kasim whispers. “Chairman’s on the side with all the City-folk, so I’m guessing the Reds he said would cover us are there in front of him. Let’s get close enough to finish this.”

  Dr. Yang continues once Howl is in front of him. “This young man spent years masquerading as the Chairman’s own son, stealing vital information and supplies and giving them to the Mountain.” His gleeful monologue sets the Firsts whispering to each other, the Seconds behind them standing to get a better look. “And Menghu have no love for this boy either. He was sent to spy because he’d become unpredictable. Leaving his own soldiers and friends exposed if it meant protecting himself. Even worse than that? When we had the cure to the horrible disease that plagues us, that makes our air poison and injects fear into every moment, he took it. He took it for himself.”

  Now it’s the Menghu craning their necks to look at Howl, standing up in their chairs and making it easy for Kasim and me to creep closer. Memories of Mei’s terrified recounting of Howl’s story are enough for me to know that her beliefs about him didn’t just belong to her. Never mind Dr. Yang knows just as I do that Howl didn’t have any cure. That it was the doctor himself who set SS loose on all of us, who destroyed the City, leaving even the highest of the Firsts scrambling for existence and the lowest Third forgotten entirely. Anger wires my jaw shut, my hand pressing hard against the gun.

  Chairman’s Sun’s eyes catch our movement as we slink closer to the front, and a grim smile cracks the stony expression on his face.

  Eight rows from the front. Seven. I’m ready to end this.

  “And it isn’t just Sun Howl who has betrayed us.” Dr. Yang snaps his fingers, and shouts fill the air as a group of soldiers surround the Seconds backing the Chairman. Kasim and I slow in shock, watching as the Seconds fight other Seconds. Surprise from the Chairman’s men makes this fight a quick one. Whispers start at the back of the crowd, and I turn to find two Seconds being frog-marched by their own comrades toward the Arch.

  “There was a conspiracy here tonight to assassinate me and General Hong, a pathetic grab at power by the Chairman to regain the hold he had over all of you.” Dr. Yang smiles as the last group of armed Reds surround the Chairman, placing a gun to his head. “He meant to keep the cure from us forever, as he, his father, and his grandfathers all the way back to Yuan Zhiwei have done. But that is not all. Look around you. You will find two people here who do not belong. First, a traitor Menghu by the name of Wu Kasim.”

  My heart stops even as Kasim barrels forward, gaining momentum when his gun comes out. Howl’s head jerks up, his mouth open in protest, his eyes following Kasim down the aisle. Menghu from Helix’s team block Kasim’s way, grabbing him by the shoulders and wrestling him to the ground. They extract the gun from his fingers with an audible crunch of broken bones.

  Dr. Yang continues as if nothing happened. “Our second traitor is a girl who, when joined with Sun Howl, holds the cure to SS inside her.” He glances down at Howl, who straightens from his hunch, frantically looking out over the crowd. “These two have done everything in their power to keep the cure from us, no matter how many of our children die.” Scanning the crowd, Dr. Yang’s eyes find me. “There you are.”

  “No!” Howl’s voice rings out over the din as Menghu look around, trying to figure out how to check under masks without accidentally infecting friends.

  Heart thumping, I pull out the gun, only to find a Menghu blocking my way. She shies back from the gun’s muzzle, but in a practiced sort of way that makes me think she’s running the numbers in her head, deciding how best to disarm me. The crowd swells around us, taking her attention away from me as people all try to fit into the small space, and I lurch past her, stumbling between two men in Yizhi’s white coats into the empty bubble of space just in front of the Arch. Howl’s there on his knees, his eyes a fearful swirl of terror and tears. “Sev,” he chokes, “no. Please, no. If you’re here, then what was the point?”

  Dr. Yang is directly above him. I point my gun between the old snake’s eyes. “You want to talk about betrayal? What about—”

  Which is when three soldiers grab me from behind and knock me over. My head hits the ground, cold stone gritty against my cheek.

  CHAPTER 63 Sev

  THEY TAKE MY MASK, MY face naked for everyone to see. From my spot next to the Arch, the crowd is infinitely clearer, Menghu ca
ptains with their collars embroidered in black whisper excitedly between rows at my appearance. Firsts and Seconds scowl in my direction, my traitorous blood proven long ago when they branded it into my very skin.

  One face stands out from the others. Tai-ge is sitting at the front, his eyes horrified and his mouth sewn shut. As usual. Here to watch me die, just like we both always knew he would be. Untouched by his own actions, as if breaking into the southern garrison to free a traitor isn’t enough to counteract the City red running through his veins.

  Not untouched. A thread of ugly gratification strings my heartbeats together. He’s not wearing a mask. At least Tai-ge’s had a taste of what his mother and the doctor are doing to the rest of the world.

  The General herself hovers next to me, though it’s Helix’s oily fingers that hold my wrists tight against the small of my back, my elbows twisted painfully behind me. She smiles, her fine-boned cheeks so delicate and yet so hard. “I’ve been waiting for the day I could finally get rid of you.”

  “I’m not a traitor.” It comes out quiet the first time. The second it’s more of a pained yell. “I’m not a traitor! I never wanted to destroy your son; I never wanted anyone to die! It’s Dr. Yang who forced the Mountain to invade, it’s him who set contagious SS loose, who manipulated me into—”

  The crowd’s garbled voice swells loud enough that no one can hear any of the words raking bloody lines inside my throat. Instead of listening, they’re shouting at me, just like any good denunciation. Shouting at me, at Howl, even denouncing the Chairman, though the Firsts cluster off to the side as if they’re not quite sure to whom their loyalties should fall. Kasim stands crooked at my side, his braced leg seeming to pain him, but he stares back at the crowd, making a rude gesture at the Menghu side when they begin to call out his name along with some choice obscenities, though it doesn’t work very well because his broken fingers won’t move. The crowd only seems to grow louder as Dr. Yang descends from his place atop the Arch to stand next to me.