by Marie Lu
I have to get to John. If I can get him out, we can help each other escape. If I can—
Then something heavy hits me across the face. My vision goes dark. I fight to concentrate, but I feel myself fall to the floor. I try to spring back to my feet, but someone knocks me down again, and a sharp pain makes my back twitch. A soldier must’ve hit me with the butt of a rifle. I feel hands pin my arms and legs down. My breath escapes me in a gasp.
Everything happens so fast that I can barely register all of it. My head swims. I think I’m going to pass out.
A familiar voice sounds out above me. It’s Commander Jameson. “What the hell is this!” She continues to shout at her soldiers. My vision gradually comes back. I realize I’m still trying to fight my way out of the soldiers’ grasp.
A hand grabs my chin. Suddenly I’m looking directly into Commander Jameson’s eyes. “A foolish attempt,” she says. She glances at Thomas, who salutes her. “Thomas. Take him back to his cell. And put some qualified guards on his watch, for once.” She releases my chin and rubs her gloved hands together. “I want the current guards dismissed and thrown off my patrol.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Thomas salutes again, then starts barking out orders. My free hand is clipped into the handcuffs that are still hanging off the other wrist. From the corner of my eye, I see another black-clad official standing next to Thomas. It’s June. My heart leaps into my throat. She narrows her eyes at me. In her hand I see the rifle she used to hit me.
They drag me kicking and shouting back to my cell. June stands by as soldiers chain me to the wall again. Then, when they step back, she leans down near my face. “I would highly suggest you not try that again,” she snaps.
There’s nothing but cold fury in her eyes. By the door, I see Commander Jameson smile. Thomas looks on with a serious face.
Then, June leans over again and whispers in my ear. “Don’t try it again,” she says, “because you won’t be able to do it alone. You’ll need my help.”
Of all the things I could’ve imagined coming out of her mouth, this is certainly not one of them. I try to keep my expression from changing, but my heart stops beating for a second. Help? June wants to help me? This is the girl who’d just knocked me to a state of half consciousness in the hallway. Is she trying to throw me into a trap? Or does she really mean it?
June pulls away from me the instant she utters the last word. I pretend to be angry, as if she’s just whispered something insulting. Commander Jameson lifts her chin. “Well done, Agent Iparis.” June gives her a quick salute. “Follow Thomas down to the lobby, and I’ll meet you there.”
June and the captain leave. I’m alone with Commander Jameson and a new rotation of soldiers standing near the cell’s door.
“Mr. Wing,” she says to me after a while. “An impressive effort tonight. You are truly as agile as Agent Iparis claimed. I hate seeing such talents wasted on worthless criminals, but life isn’t very fair, is it?” She smiles at me. “Poor boy. You truly believed you could break out of a military stronghold, didn’t you?”
Commander Jameson walks over to me, bends down, and rests her elbow on one knee. “Let me tell you a short story,” she says. “Some years ago, we caught a young renegade who had a great deal in common with you. Bold and brash, stupidly defiant, just as inconvenient. He tried to escape before his execution date too. Do you know what happened to him, Mr. Wing?” She reaches over, puts her hand on my forehead, and pushes me backward until my head presses against the wall. “That kid made it as far as the stairwell before we got him. When his execution date came, the court granted me permission to kill him personally instead of putting him in front of the firing squad.” Her hand tightens on my forehead. “I think he would have preferred the firing squad.”
“Someday you’ll die in a worse way than he did,” I snap back.
Commander Jameson lets out a laugh. “Ill-tempered until the end, aren’t you?” She releases my head and tilts my chin up with a finger. “What fun you are, my beautiful boy.”
I narrow my eyes. Before she can stop me, I dart out of her grasp and sink my teeth deep into her hand. She shrieks. I bite down as hard as I can, until I taste blood. Commander Jameson slams me into the wall. The hit knocks me loose. She clutches her hand, performing an agonized dance while I blink, fighting to stay awake. A couple of soldiers try to help her, but she shoves them away.
“I’m looking forward to your execution, Day,” she snarls at me. Her hand oozes blood. “I’ll be counting down the minutes!” Then she storms away and slams the cell door behind her.
I close my eyes and bury my head in my arms so that no one can see my face. Blood lingers on my tongue—I shudder at the metallic taste. I haven’t had the nerve to think about my execution date. What does it feel like to stand in front of a firing squad with no way out? My thoughts wander around and then zoom in on what June whispered to me. You won’t be able to do it alone. You’ll need my help.
She must have discovered something—who really killed her brother, or some other truth about the Republic. She has no reason to trick me now. . . . I have nothing to lose and she has nothing to gain. I wait for the realization to sink in.
A Republic agent is going to help me escape. She’ll help me save my brothers.
I must be losing my mind.
I LEARNED AT DRAKE THAT THE BEST WAY TO TRAVEL UNSEEN at night is by rooftop. I’m practically invisible at that height—the people on the ground keep their attention fixed on the street—and besides, up there I get the best view of where I’m headed.
Tonight I’m on my way back to the border of Lake and Alta, where I’d gotten into the Skiz fight with Kaede. I need to find her now, before I have to return to Batalla Hall in the morning and go over details of Day’s botched escape with Commander Jameson. Kaede is going to be my best ally for Day’s upcoming execution.
Shortly after midnight, I get dressed in all black. Black hiking boots. A thin black aviator jacket. Knives at my belt. A small black backpack strapped to my shoulders. I don’t bring my guns—I don’t want anyone to track me to the plague sectors.
I make my way to the top of my high-rise, until I’m standing alone on the roof with the wind whistling all around me. I can smell the moisture in the air. A few terraces still have animals grazing at this hour. The sight of them makes me wonder whether I’ve been living over an underground meat factory all this time. From here I can see all of downtown Los Angeles, as well as many of its surrounding sectors, and the thin rim of land that separates the enormous lake from the Pacific Ocean. It’s easy to pick out where the wealthy sectors border the poorest ones—where the steady light from electricity gives way to flickering lanterns, bonfires, and steam power plants.
I use an air rope launcher to connect a thin cable between two buildings. Then I glide silently from high-rise to high-rise until I’m well out of the Batalla and Ruby sectors. Here the going gets a little trickier. The buildings aren’t as tall, and the roofs are crumbling, some threatening to collapse entirely if too much force hits them. I choose targets carefully. A few times I’m forced to aim the launcher lower than the roof, and then shimmy my way to the top once I get to that side. By the time I reach the outskirts of Lake sector, I can feel sweat dripping down my neck and back.
The lake’s edge sits just a few blocks away. When I take a good look across the sector, I see that red tape lines almost every block, and plague patrol soldiers with gas masks and black capes stand at every street corner. Xs mark rows and rows of doors. I see one patrol going from door to door, pretending to do another routine sweep. I have a hunch that they are doling out cures right now, just as Metias said, and in a few more weeks, this plague will have “magically” trickled away. I make a point not to look anywhere close to where Day’s house is—or perhaps, was. As if his mother’s body might still be lying there on the street.
It takes me another ten minutes to reach the place outside of Lake where I met Day. Here the rooftops are too fragile for my air rope
launcher. I carefully inch my way down to the ground—I’m agile, but I’m not Day—and follow shadowed alleys to the lakefront. Wet sand crunches under my feet.
I make my way through the back alleys, careful to avoid the streetlights, the street police, and the endless street crowd. Day once told me that he’d met Kaede in a bar here, at the edge of Alta and Winter. Now I scan the area as I go. From the rooftops I could already tell that there were about a dozen bars that matched the location and his description—here on the ground, I count out nine of them.
Several times I stop in an alley to gather my thoughts. If I’m caught here and anyone discovers what I’m doing, they’ll probably kill me. No questions asked. The thought makes my heart quicken.
But then I remember my brother’s words. It’s enough to make my eyes sting, to make me clench my teeth. I’ve gone too far to turn back now.
I wander through several bars without luck. They all look so similar—dim lantern light, smoke and chaos, the occasional Skiz fight happening in a dark corner. I check each fight, although I’ve learned my lesson about standing far enough away from the circles. I ask each bartender if he knows a girl with a vine tattoo. No Kaede.
About an hour passes.
Then I find her. (Actually, she finds me.) I don’t even get a chance to step inside the bar.
I’ve barely walked out of an adjacent alley and am heading toward this bar’s side door when I feel something fly right past my shoulder. A dagger. Instantly I leap out of the way—my eyes dart up. Someone leaps down from the second floor, lunges for me, and knocks both of us into the shadows. My back slams into the wall. I reach instinctively for the knife at my belt before I see who my attacker is.
“It’s you,” I say.
The girl facing me looks furious. Street light reflects off her vine tattoo, and heavy black makeup outlines her eyes. “All right,” Kaede says. “I know you’re looking for me. You want t’see me so badly that you’ve been wandering through Alta’s bars for over an hour. What do you want? A rematch or something?”
I’m about to respond when I see another movement in the shadows behind Kaede. I freeze. Someone else is here with us.
When Kaede sees my eyes dart away, she raises her voice. “Stay back, Tess,” she says. “You don’t wanna see this.”
“Tess?” I squint into the darkness. The figure standing there looks small enough, with a delicate frame and hair that seems to be tied back in a messy braid. Large, luminous eyes peer at me from behind Kaede. I find myself itching to break into a smile—I know this is news that will make Day very happy.
Tess steps forward. She looks healthy enough, although dark circles have appeared under her eyes. The suspicious look on her face sends a wave of shame through me.
“Hello,” she says. “How is Day? Is he okay?”
I nod. “For the moment. I’m glad to see you’re okay too. What are you doing here?”
She gives me a cautious smile, then glances nervously at Kaede. Kaede shoots her an angry look and presses me harder against the wall. “How about you answer that question first?” she snaps.
Tess must have joined the Patriots. I drop my own knife to the ground. Then I hold my empty hands out to both of them. “I’m here to negotiate with you.” I meet her stare with calm eyes. “Kaede, I need your help. I need to talk to the Patriots.”
This catches her off guard. “What makes you think I’m a Patriot?”
“I work for the Republic. We know a lot of things, some that might surprise you.”
Kaede narrows her eyes at me. “You don’t need my help. You’re lying,” she says. “You’re a Republic soldier, and you turned Day in. Why should we trust you?”
I reach around, unzip my backpack, and pull out a thick wad of Notes. Tess lets out a tiny gasp. “I want to give you this,” I reply, handing the money to Kaede. “And there’s more where that came from. But I need you to listen to me, and I don’t have much time.”
Kaede flips through the bills with the hand on her good arm and tests one on the tip of her tongue. Her other arm is wrapped in a tight cast. Suddenly I wonder if Tess was the one to bandage up that arm. The Patriots must find her useful.
“I’m sorry about that, by the way,” I say, gesturing at her arm. “I’m sure you understand why I did it. I still have the wound you gave me.”
Kaede lets out a dry laugh. “Whatever,” she says. “At least we got ourselves another medic in the Patriots now.” She pats her cast and winks at Tess.
“Glad to hear it,” I say, looking sideways at Tess. “Take good care of her. She’s worth it.”
Kaede studies my face a little longer. Then, she finally releases me and nods at my belt. “Drop your weapons.”
I don’t argue. I pull four knives from my belt, hold them out slowly so she can see, then toss them to the alley floor. Kaede kicks them out of my range.
“You have any tracking gear?” she says. “Any listening devices?”
I let Kaede check both my ears and my mouth. “Nothing,” I reply.
“If I hear so much as one pair of footsteps heading our way,” Kaede says, “I’ll kill you right here. Understand?”
I nod.
Kaede hesitates, then lowers her arm and guides us deeper into the shadows of the alley. “No way I’m taking you to see any other Patriots,” she says. “I don’t trust you enough for that. You can talk to us two, and I’ll see if it’s worth passing along.”
I wonder how large an operation the Patriots are. “Fair enough.”
I start telling Kaede and Tess about everything I’ve discovered. I begin with Metias, and then his death. I tell her about my hunt for Day and what had happened when I turned him in. What Thomas had done to Metias. But I don’t mention to her why my parents died or what Metias had revealed about the plagues in his blog entries. I’m too ashamed to say it straight to the face of two people living in the poor sectors.
“So your brother’s friend murdered him, huh?” Kaede lets out a low whistle. “For figuring out that the Republic killed your parents? And Day’s been framed?”
Kaede’s nonchalant tone annoys me, but I brush it aside. “Yes.”
“Yeah, that’s a sad story. Tell me what the hell this has t’do with the Patriots.”
“I want to help Day escape before his execution. And I’ve heard that the Patriots have wanted to recruit him for a long time. You probably don’t want to see him dead, either. Maybe the Patriots and I can come to some sort of arrangement.”
The anger in Kaede’s eyes has turned into skepticism. “So you want revenge for your brother’s death or something? Gonna turn your back on the Republic for Day’s sake?”
“I want justice. And I want to free the boy who didn’t kill my brother.”
Kaede grunts in disbelief. “You’re living a sweet life, you know. Tucked in a cozy apartment in some rich sector. You know if the Republic finds out you’ve been talking to me, they’ll put you in front of a firing squad. Same as Day.”
The mention of Day standing before a firing squad sends chills down my spine. From the corner of eye, I see Tess wince as well. “I know,” I reply. “Are you going to help me?”
“You’re fond of Day, aren’t you?” Kaede says.
I hope the darkness hides the rising color in my cheeks. “That’s irrelevant.”
She lets out a laugh. “What a joke! Poor little rich girl’s fallen in love with the Republic’s most famous criminal. And it’s even worse since you’re the reason he’s there in the first place. Right?”
Stay calm. “Are you going to help me?” I ask again.
Kaede shrugs. “We’ve always wanted Day. He’d make a perfect Runner for us, y’know? But we’re not in the business of doing good deeds. We’re professionals, we have a long agenda, and it doesn’t involve charity projects.” Tess opens her mouth to protest, but Kaede motions for her to stay quiet. “Day may be a popular figure out here on the streets, but he’s still one guy. What’s in it for us? Just the joy of getting
him on board? The Patriots aren’t going to risk a dozen lives just to free a single criminal. It’s inefficient.”
Tess lets out a sigh. I exchange a look with her, and I can tell that this is something she’s been trying in vain to convince Kaede to do ever since Day was arrested. This might even be the reason why Tess joined the Patriots in the first place—to beg them to save Day.
“I know.” I take off my backpack and toss it to Kaede. She doesn’t open it. “That’s why I brought this. There are two hundred thousand Notes in there, minus what I handed you earlier. A decent fortune. It’s my reward money for capturing Day, and it should be enough payment for your assistance.” My voice lowers. “I’ve also included an electro-bomb. Level three. Worth six thousand Notes. It’ll disable guns for two minutes in a half-mile radius. I’m sure you know how difficult it can be to get one on the black market.”
Kaede unzips the backpack and sorts through the contents. She doesn’t say anything, but I can see the pleasure in her body language, the way she hunches hungrily over the bills and runs her good hand across their crisp surfaces. She lets out a grunt of delight when she reaches the electro-bomb, and her eyes widen when she holds up the metallic sphere to inspect it. Tess watches her with hopeful eyes.
“This is pocket change to the Patriots,” she says after she finishes. “But you’re right—it might be enough to convince my boss to let me help you out. But how can we be sure this isn’t a trap? You sold Day to the Republic. What if you’re lying to me too?”
Pocket change? The Patriots must have deep pockets. But I just nod. “You have a right to be suspicious of me,” I say. “But think of it this way. You can walk away right now, with two hundred thousand Notes and a rather handy weapon, and never lift a finger to help me. I’m putting my trust in you and in the Patriots. I’m begging you to put your trust in me.”
Kaede takes a deep breath. I can tell she’s still not convinced. “Well, what did you have in mind?”
