So do I.
Marking ourselves.
The escorts are not Scarlet Guard. Or they weren’t, before all this started. Their allegiances are to one another, to their slum. To small resistances, the only kind possible in here.
Ours is a tall, black-skinned man, willowy like Cameron, his hair braided and pulled back into a tight, neat bun streaked with shades of gray. Cameron’s foot taps as he approaches, her body almost radiating energy. He reaches us and clasps her arm,
“Daddy,” I hear her breathe as he pulls her into an embrace. “Where’s Mama?”
He covers her hand with his own. “She’s coming off shift. I told her to keep her head down and her eyes open. First bolt of lightning, she’s running.”
Cameron exhales slowly. She dips her head, nodding to herself. The dark around us continues to lift, fading to lighter shades of blue as dawn approaches. “Good.”
“I hope you didn’t bring Morrey here,” her father adds, his tone light but scolding. And so familiar. It reminds me of my own parents, chiding me for a broken plate.
Cameron’s head snaps back to find her father staring, eyes a dark and deep black. “Of course not.”
Even though I don’t want to interrupt their reunion, I have to. “The power station?” I prod, looking up at the elder Cole.
He glances down at me. He has a kind face, no mean feat in a place like this. “NT has six, one for each sector. But if we cut off the central hub, that will do the job.”
Mention of the plan snaps something in Cameron. She straightens, focuses. “This way,” she says sharply, beckoning to us.
The shift change is much more crowded than even the worst days in the Stilts market. Silver officers in black uniforms keep watch. Not on the ground, on the filthy streets, but from the overarching walkways and windows of foreboding guard posts. Officers and posts I know well enough. I watch them as I pass, noting their disinterest. It’s not the same disinterest Silvers show us at court, their way of making us feel like less than we already are. But a boredom. A disuse. Silvers aren’t assigned to slum towns because they’re warriors of important bloodlines. This isn’t a post anyone would envy.
The guards of New Town are far weaker than any enemy I’m used to. And they have no idea we’re already here.
Cameron’s father looks her over, thoughtful as we walk. I shiver when his gaze passes over me, then back to his daughter. “So it’s true, then. You’re something . . . different.”
I wonder what he’s heard. What the Scarlet Guard told their contacts in New Town. Maven’s propaganda and poisoned broadcasts made clear the existence of newbloods. Does he know what his daughter can do?
She holds his stare, his equal. “I am,” she says without flinching.
“You walk with the lightning girl.”
“I do,” she replies.
“And this is . . . ?” he adds, eyeing Kilorn.
With a loopy grin, Kilorn touches his brow and angles himself into a shallow bow. “I’m the muscle.”
Mr. Cole almost laughs as he takes in Kilorn’s tall but lean form. “Sure, kid.”
The buildings around us grow higher, stacked precariously. There are cracks in the walls and windows, and every block needs a fresh coat of paint—or just the good wash of a rainstorm. The workers around us start to peel off, heading into different apartment structures with waves and calls. Nothing seems amiss.
“We’re grateful for your help, Mr. Cole,” I say under my breath, keeping my focus ahead. A few Silver guards stand on an arch some yards away, and I lower my face as we pass.
“Thank the elders, not me,” Mr. Cole answers. He doesn’t bother hiding from the guards. He’s nothing to them. “They’ve been ready for this for a long time.”
My throat tightens in shame. “Because someone should have done something a long time ago.” Someone like you, Tiberias. You knew these places existed, and for who. For what.
Cameron grits her teeth. “At least we’re doing something now.” At her side, she clenches a fist. With her ability, she could kill the two guards above us if she wanted. Drop them right off the arch.
But we pass by without incident, stepping into the shadow of the slouching, gray slum apartment building at the end of the residential street. It looks like the toy blocks of a giant child, piled high against the hazy blue. One section is taller than the rest, dotted with grimy, dim windows.
It’s where we need to be.
Mr. Cole glances at me, then at the structure. “Up you go, lightning girl,” he says, his voice soft. “Get high, get loud. That’s the plan, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir,” I mumble. Already I call to the lightning, feeling it respond deep in my bones.
When we reach the base of the building, we’re almost alone on the street, joined only by shift stragglers. Cameron turns to her father, eyes wide. “How much time do we have?”
He turns over his wrist and glances at his watch. Then Mr. Cole frowns, the lines cutting deep. “None,” he says. “You have to go.”
She blinks rapidly, her jaw working. “Okay.”
“Sir, I believe this is yours,” Kilorn says, reaching into his jacket. He pulls free a small pistol, and extra rounds of ammunition, neat in their case.
Mr. Cole looks at the gun like a snake that might bite. He hesitates, until Cameron takes it from Kilorn and presses it to his chest. She widens her eyes, pleading.
“Point and click, Daddy. Don’t hesitate,” she says with furious need. “Silvers won’t.”
Slowly, gingerly, he tucks the gun away into the satchel at his side. As he turns, I catch sight of the tattoo on his neck.
“Fine,” he breathes, dazed. I think all this is starting to catch up with him. Then he clears his throat. “The new-shift techs at the hub are informed. They’ll power down the city with your first strike, after the signal crosstown. Coordinate the systematic shutoff with your storm. Silvers won’t know we’re in on it. Buy some time.”
This part of the plan was eagerly arranged by both the Scarlet Guard and their contacts within the slum city.
“Everyone knows about the charges?” I ask, if only to be sure. The Scarlet Guard who slipped in with us are already scattered around the city, planting their bombs. Laying our traps.
Cole’s expression darkens and he scowls. “Everyone who can be trusted. We might have our own resistance, but we’ve got informants all over.”
I swallow hard, trying not to think what might happen if the wrong person knew what was about to happen. Maven himself might descend on New Town and crush our insurgency. Bring this poisoned, polluted ground smashing down on us all. And if we fail here, where will that leave the other slum cities? What will it prove?
That nothing can be done. That these people can’t be saved.
Kilorn notes my unease and nudges my shoulder, if only to snap me out of it. Cameron is, understandably, more concerned with her father.
“Okay,” she says, “just watch where you bleeding step.”
Cole clucks his tongue. “Don’t curse, Cam.”
Without warning, Cameron smiles and throws her long arms around her father’s neck, hugging him tightly. “Kiss Mama for me,” I hear her murmur.
“You’ll kiss her yourself soon enough,” he whispers back, lifting her slightly off the ground. Their eyes shut in unison as they hold on to each other. And this fragile, fleeting moment.
I can’t help but think of my family, so far away. Safe. Tucked up in the mountains, protected by thousands of miles and another country sworn to fight with us. Living with hope for the first time in too many years. It isn’t fair, especially to Cameron, who has survived far worse than I have. But I’m glad I don’t have to shoulder the burden of my family’s safety alongside everything else. I can barely handle the danger to the people I love who are still fighting.
Cameron pulls away from her father first. It’s an act of untold strength. As is letting her go. Mr. Cole steps back, sniffing, looking at his feet. Hiding a sudden re
dness around his eyes. Tears prick at Cameron too, and she scuffs her boot against the dirty street, kicking up dust in distraction.
“Shall we?” she says, turning to me. Her eyes are wet.
“Let’s climb.”
We watch the city with hawk focus, each of us at a window looking out in a different direction. I wipe at the glass with my sleeve. It only moves the grime around, leaving brown streaks. The attic space fogs with dust every time we move, kicking up another cloud. Kilorn coughs into his hand, a hoarse sound.
“I see smoke on this side, in between those factories,” he says.
At her window, Cameron raises a shoulder. “Autoworks sector,” she replies without turning around. “The assembly lines jammed half an hour ago. The shift will be turned out, and they’ll idle around the gates asking for the day’s wage. Overseers will refuse. Officers will try to keep peace.” She grins to herself. “Big mess.”
“What color is the smoke, Kilorn?” I ask, still scanning my section of horizon. From this height, New Town seems smaller. But just as depressing. All gray and smoggy, hung with low clouds of brutal haze. It pulses, sluggish, the electricity almost overwhelming.
“Uh, normal?” Kilorn sputters. “Gray.”
I huff low in my throat. Eager to get this moving.
“Normal. Just the smokestacks,” Cameron drawls. “Not the signal.”
He shifts, coughing some more. I wince at the hacking sound. “What are we looking for again?”
“Anything that isn’t normal,” I reply through gritted teeth.
“Right,” he grumbles.
On the opposite side of the low room, Cameron taps her knuckles against her greasy window. “You know, maybe this rebellion would be further along if they didn’t rely on teenagers so much.” She tosses a smirk at Kilorn. “Especially ones who can’t read.”
He barks out a laugh, rising to the bait. “I can read.”
“But colors are beyond your bleeding comprehension?” she snaps back with whip quickness.
He shrugs and raises his hands. “I’m just making conversation.”
Cameron scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Because we really need distractions right now, Kilorn.”
I press my lips together, trying not to giggle at them both. “Is this what Tiberias and I sound like when we argue?” I ask with a raised brow. “Because if so, I sincerely apologize.”
Kilorn goes scarlet, flushing, as Cameron quickly turns back to her window, almost pressing her face to the glass.
I missed what was happening with Shade and Farley. Have I missed this too?
“You two are about ten times worse,” Kilorn finally says, his voice a low, rumbling grunt.
At the opposite window, Cameron snorts. “You mean a hundred.”
Grinning, I glance between the pair of them. Both are on edge, even for the circumstances. I try to read the tightness in Kilorn’s shoulders, but the flush still coloring his cheeks is more damning. “I walked into that, didn’t I?” I mutter, turning back to my window.
Behind me, he chuffs out a laugh. “Absolutely.”
Then Cameron slams a hand to her window, hissing. “Green smoke. Weapons sector. Shit.”
Kilorn jumps to her side, drawing his gun. He eyes her, worried. “Why ‘shit’?”
“Weapons sector has the most security,” she says quickly. With even motions, she peels off her jacket, revealing her own gun and a wicked knife I hope she never has to use. “For obvious reasons.”
I exhale slowly. Inside me, the lightning snaps and crackles. “More likely to blow up too.”
With a roll of his shoulders, Kilorn dons a scowl. He touches Cameron lightly on the arm, pulling her back from the window. “Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen,” he mutters, kicking out the glass.
Shards explode out and in, shattering with the force of the blow. Still grimacing, he wipes one jacketed sleeve around the frame, knocking loose any jagged edges. He then steps back to let me lean out and brace myself on the ledge. A smoky wind blows against my face, smelling of fumes and distant fire. Without hesitation, I slip one leg out the window, then the other. Kilorn grabs the back of my shirt, keeping a firm grip.
I look skyward, focusing on the blue dawn as it melts to pink. Even though the sky is choked with corrupted clouds, they make for lovely colors. My heartbeat thrums, rising to a steady rhythm. The lightning in me pulses with it, feeding off the electricity below. I clench a fist, trying to remember what Ella taught me.
Storm lightning is the strongest and most destructive kind we can make. It gathers; it grows; it breaks. Overhead, the vibrantly colored clouds begin to darken and swirl, condensing with my power. Before my eyes, identical shadows bloom over two other parts of the city. Ella and Rafe. The three of us make a triangle, with the electricity hub at our center. The city spread out before us like a killing ground. And Tyton is somewhere down there, more dangerous than any of us, ready to loose his pulse lightning on anyone who might get too close.
Blue lightning flashes first, illuminating the curls of a rising thunderhead to my left. The roar of close thunder cracks over us and I feel Kilorn flinch, the motion tugging my shirt. I stand firm, keeping my grip on the window frame.
Purple and green join the fray as our storms collide, raining bolts down on our target. The hub, a domed building near the center of the city, is easily distinguished by the tangle of wires reaching in every direction. Connecting power stations all over the city, and feeding back electricity into the factories. The lifeblood of any slum town. Even from this distance, I can feel the low hum of it.
“Make it rain,” Kilorn snarls.
I bite back a sigh. “That’s not how it works,” I hiss back, throwing a bolt across the sky. The other electricons do as well, their blue and green racing toward my purple.
Our strikes hit directly above the hub, birthing a blinding flash. On cue, the hum disappears as our allies inside take the hub system offline. They shut it down more quickly than even we could, and with far fewer casualties.
All over the city, smokestacks stop belching out their poison. Assembly lines grind to a halt. Even transports on the streets, isolated with their own energy sources, slow or pull over, surprised by the sudden shutdown. The storm continues, a three-headed monster, sending cracks of lightning across the sky in all directions. I keep my bolts away from the ground for now. I can’t aim them well at this distance and don’t want to risk innocent lives. Not to mention the Scarlet Guard explosives, which are now set all over the city. One spark from me could set off a chain of bursting death.
“All stop,” Cameron murmurs next to me. She looks out on her city with marvel in her eyes. “No power means no work. Shifts turned out all over. Workers baying for their wages. Officers distracted, overseers overrun.”
Blind to the cutthroats, criminals, and soldiers now in their midst. Blind to the bombs beneath their feet.
“How long until—”
The first detonation cuts Kilorn off, rumbling a little too close for comfort. An explosion rises to our left, two streets away. At one of the city gates. Rock and smoke streak through the air in a dusty, dragging arc. The next bomb obliterates another gate, followed by the other two. Then the interior charges blow. Beneath security posts, guard towers, Silver barracks, the overseers’ quarters. Any and all Silver targets. I wince with each strike, trying not to think of how much blood we spill today. On both sides. Who will be caught in the crossfire?
We watch in silence, cowed by the sight. More smoke, more dust, and now ash. Cameron’s chest rises and falls as her breath turns to panting. Her wide, dark eyes dart back and forth, always returning to the factories marking the weapons sector. Nothing explodes there.
“The Scarlet Guard isn’t stupid enough to put bombs beneath a munitions depot,” I tell her, hoping to comfort her a little.
Then it explodes.
The resulting force knocks us all backward, sending us sprawling over broken glass and the dusty attic. Cameron scrambles up f
irst, bleeding from a cut on the forehead. “Then that wasn’t the Guard,” she yelps, pulling me to my feet.
My ears ring, dulling all sound. I shake my head from side to side, trying to get my bearings. Cameron takes my wrists and I instantly jump, flinching out of her grasp. “No,” I snarl, unable to stand the feeling.
She doesn’t react and instead focuses on getting Kilorn up, putting one of his arms over her shoulder to hoist him. His lip is busted and one of his hands has a gash from the glass, but the rest of him seems whole.
“I think we might want to get our feet on the ground,” he says, focusing on the cracked ceiling above us.
“Agreed.” My voice sounds oddly strangled as we bolt for the door.
The stairs are little more than a tight spiral, reaching down and down and down. A chore to climb, and even worse to descend, each step a jolt through my knees. I pull my lightning to my fingertips, letting the purple sparks gather and spit, ready to run through anyone in our way.
Kilorn overtakes me easily, moving down the stairs two at a time. I hate it when he does that, and he knows it. The boy even has the spine to smirk back at me, winking.
In that moment, Cameron screams, seeing the Silver guard before we do.
He waves an arm, sending Kilorn sideways over the railing with the force of telekinetic ability. My vision slows as Kilorn topples, body sprawled in the air, and I feel like someone is digging a knife into my gut. The ringing in my ears threatens to split my head, rising to a shriek. All down the stairwell, lightbulbs pop and hiss with my fear, spreading darkness.
The guard drops before he can turn his wrath on us. He clutches at his throat, eyes rolling as he lands hard on his knee. Cameron curls her hand, fingers clawlike, as she smothers him with her ability. Slowing his heart, darkening his vision. Killing him.
The crack and thud of Kilorn hitting the railing below makes me sick. We sprint as fast as we can, directly into two other Silver guards working their way up to us. A shiver freezes the steps beneath our feet and my boots slide, almost taking me down. I slice him apart with a rocketing bolt, while his partner, a stoneskin, topples under Cameron’s wrath. We cut them apart, knives through paper.
War Storm Page 28
