“That’s … amazing,” Alba says, openly shocked.
Bran brightens at that. “I call it The Depowerer,” he announces proudly.
***
Miya
13:36. 08.10.2040. Forgotten London, Edgware Zone.
“No.” Yosiah’s voice is steel. I cross my arms over my chest as he comes to a stop in the middle of the corridor. “Miya, this is crazy. You’ve heard what everyone’s saying—what’s happening now. The Guardians are leaving today. They’re evacuating the whole town tonight.”
“I know. That’s my point.”
“You have no time to plan—or prepare yourself—or finish your training—or do anything!”
“We’re leaving this place anyway, right? What difference does it make if we go to the diseased lands or whether we go into the town?”
“It makes all the difference.” His eyes are narrowed and dark. “You could be killed.”
“We could be killed anyway,” someone points out, walking past us. I laugh, but then I realise how public our conversation is. I yank Yosiah into the nearest room and hunt for the light switch. When I can see again, Yosiah’s eyes are closed and he looks lost.
“Look,” I say, “it’s not all about me. And we won’t be alone. A load of Guardians are going into the central zones to get people out. I wanna go with them, that’s all.”
He laughs hollowly. “That’s all.”
“We could … help someone. Isn’t that what you want to do—help people?”
“Not like this.”
“How?”
“Alone. I want to help people alone.”
I flinch and back into a shelf. A tin of white paint falls off and splatters my clothes. Looks like I pulled Siah into a storage room.
“You can help people alone,” I mumble. A shard of glass has jammed into my heart. “You don’t have to go where I go. I’ll go with The Guardians on my own.”
He pulls at his hair and I watch him getting angrier. “You don’t understand.”
I grit my teeth. “Then tell me.”
“I’m not letting you go out there! Not tonight, not ever, and especially not when it’s going to be a battlefield. You’re going with The Guardians when they evacuate and you’re getting the hell away from this town.”
“So you’re telling me what to do? You’re not giving me a choice? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m in control of my life. Not you!”
“No,” he growls. “You don’t get a choice. I’m telling you—you’re not going into the fight. And that’s that.”
“No, it’s not,” I shout back. I shove his shoulder and his back hits the wall. “I’ll do whatever the hell I want.”
“Not this time.”
“Every time. What the hell is your problem? You’ve been acting weird ever since we came here.”
“We were threatened and kidnapped to be here, in case you had forgotten. At first you resented The Guardians because of that but all of a sudden you’re one of them.”
My hands shake. “What is your problem with them?”
“I don’t trust them. And I certainly don’t trust them—any of them—around you.”
I laugh, stunted and sharply. “So this is about me, huh?”
“It has always been about you.”
“No.” My teeth grind the inside of my lip and I taste blood. A muscle in Yosiah’s jaw spasms and I snap completely. “You’re lying. It’s not about me, is it? It’s about you.”
His eyes flash but he clenches his jaw, not allowing a single word to pass his lips.
“So, what is it? Are you scared of them? Jealous? Planning to overthrow them? Is that why you don’t want me to go with them tonight?”
He yells, “I don’t want to lose you!” and I’m stunned. His voice breaks and he drops his head into his hands, leaning back against the wall.
All of the anger in me is gone and, after a while, I think I might be crying. “Siah,” I whisper. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
When he lowers his hands his face is composed and normal. He nods. “I know.”
But I can see straight through him.
Something cracked inside of him when we came here, and the cracks keep getting bigger and bigger. I don’t want him to break. Yosiah can’t break. He’s all that holds me together. It’s selfish but I can’t lose him. I need him. I think I understand how he feels about us going to the central zones, because it’s how I feel about staying here, where this place is gradually killing him.
At least I know that by tonight we’ll be gone from this base and it can’t break him anymore, but Yosiah doesn’t have that kind of guarantee about us living through the central zones.
“Okay,” I say with a defeated smile.
He rasps, “Okay, what?”
“Okay we won’t go. I won’t go. We’ll leave with The Guardians.”
“Why? What’s changed?”
I shrug my shoulders, frowning as I look down at my jacket. It’s showered in white paint and ruined. My jeans missed most of it, escaping with only a few splotches, but my black boots aren’t black anymore. It’s this damned place—stay in it long enough and even you turn white. I groan in annoyance.
Siah laughs softly; I think I hear fondness in it. “You can get a new one.”
I look at him questioningly.
“A new jacket. I’ll find you another when we go to the central zones.”
I hum in acceptance and then my head snaps up to look at him in shock. “What? But—you said—”
“If you’d abandon the idea of going for me, I can accept the idea of going for you.”
“But we’re not going.”
“Yes, we are.”
“God, you’re so confusing.”
He half-smiles and he’s back again. The hurt, angry Yosiah has disappeared. I wonder how long I can keep patching up his fractures.
He takes hold of my wrist, his fingers light and timid, and I pull it out of his grasp. His face falls and flushes with embarrassment, and I wish he wouldn’t think the worst of everything. I hold his hand, tightly and protectively. I just wanted to hold his hand. The choked sound that comes from him makes me laugh. It’s almost a giggle which makes me glare.
“If we’re gonna die tonight, I want to hold your hand at least once.”
“You’ve held my hand before,” he points out, recovering quickly.
“Beside the point.”
“In that case ...”
“No,” I say immediately. I’m itching to smile. I try to bury it by biting my lip but it doesn’t work. “No,” I repeat.
“Not even once? Not because we’re going to die?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
He tries to kiss me and I whack his shoulder so he can’t. He’s not even guilty; he looks at me as if to say what did you expect?
“Siah, what’s your name?” I ask. “Your real name?”
“You know my real name,” he replies. “This is the real me. Who I was before is someone I don’t know anymore. My old name is a stranger’s name.”
“Timofei knows it.”
Yosiah raises an eyebrow. “Does he bother you?”
“No,” I scoff. I consider taking my hand from his so that I can cross my arms over my chest but I don’t. “He thinks he knows you better than I do. It annoys me.”
“You know me better than anyone ever has. Even better than the people who were supposed to be my family. Timofei does not know me better than you do.”
I glance sheepishly at the floor and end up looking at the details on his shoes. Guardian shoes—they’re too clean to belong to Siah. “I know that.”
“But you still want to knock him out every time you see him.”
“He has one of those faces,” I mutter. “So are we going into central or not?”
“Yes. It’s something you want to do, and … apparently it’s going to help people? How is it going to help anyone—us being aboveground?”
“We’re gonna be
with The Guardians, getting people out of the town. They have trains, Yosiah! Remember when you told me about them?”
He traces his thumb over the side of my hand absently. “Yeah. An Official dropped plans of one and I found them. It’d be nice to see what they look like moving.”
“We can see them,” I say enthusiastically. “We can see them move and we can watch the Officials fall apart and we can—”
He says fondly, “You want to watch Forgotten London burn. Of course you do—you’re Miya. I don’t know why I ever thought differently.”
I smile. He’s right, of course, but it’s not just that. “Siah.” My voice catches with amusement. “You do realise you have paint on you, don’t you?”
His eyes fix me with a dark look. And, somehow faster than my eyes track, his hand is smeared with paint and across my cheek.
I shove his shoulder. “Asshole.”
He gestures to himself. “Now we’re even.”
“What part of this,” –I point at my paint-smothered self— “is even?”
His smile is devious.
My eyes narrow at his expression. He’s going to do the paint thing again. “Okay, fine,” I rush out. “Let’s … go and find out what’s happening.”
He opens the door with a grand gesture. “After you, milady.”
Honour walks right into the open door, producing a painful-sounding thump. “There you are,” he breathes. He could have gotten a concussion but he doesn’t seem bothered. He looks relieved if anything. Weird boy.
He gives our painted appearances a questioning look but dismisses it. “We’re getting ready to leave. I wanted to say goodbye. Nobody knows if we’re gonna get back or anything so …”
Yosiah nods. “Where are you going?”
“Underground London Zone. The guy my sister came in with thinks he knows how to stop the Strain so I’m gonna go with him and help.”
Siah claps Honour’s shoulder. “Good luck.”
I add, “What he said.” I still can’t get over Horatia’s boyfriend being the President’s bloody son.
“Thanks.” Honour smiles, then frowns—something I didn’t know his usually-smiling face could do. “I heard you’re going into the central zones with the Underground trains.”
“Yep,” I confirm, beaming with victory.
With a suspicious glance at me, Siah asks, “How did you hear that?”
“Word travels in here.” Honour waves a hand. “Anyway, I need to go find Dalmar. I’ll see you soon. I hope.”
“Bye, Honour.”
“See you later,” I say.
Honour nods a final goodbye and sprints down the hallway.
“Looks like it won’t be tonight after all,” Siah muses. “People are leaving already.”
I cross my arms over my chest, nerves twisting my stomach. Siah brushes his shoulder against mine.
I joke, “Well we can’t go up looking like this.”
“You’re right. You’d start a revolution by walking down the street.”
***
Honour
13:58. 08.10.2040. Forgotten London, Edgware Zone.
I don’t mean to listen in on their conversation, but as I’m striding down the hallway to find Dal it’s hard for me to ignore my sister’s voice.
“Who are these people?” she’s asking. She sounds worked up.
“I’ve told you everything about The Guardians,” Marrin replies. His voice is level, calm.
“No. Who are these people? How is it that their walls are so blank and empty, but their rooms are filled with things that cost more than it would to feed my family for a whole year? Why are old people here? How are people managing to live until thirty—let alone fifty? What kind of advanced medicine do they have that can heal your leg in an hour? You were messed up, Marrin. I know you were. I had to sew your wound for God’s sake. I—”
“Hora,” he shushes her and the gentle tone of his voice shocks me. So does the shortened version of my sister’s name. “Calm down. Breathe, all right?”
“But who are they?” she asks, her voice muffled.
“They’re people like us. They’re trying to survive. And the expensive things weren’t theirs to begin with. I recognised something of my own—a standing lamp that went missing from my living room a few years ago. It’s stolen, all of it. I don’t know why they live longer, or how their medicine works, but I’d guess that too is stolen. People in States live a lot older than twenty, you know?”
“They do?”
“Hmm. It’s only The Forgotten Lands that have a life expectancy of twenty, and that’s a result of poor quality of life. Even so there are pockets of people here that live longer. I think The Guardians would want to give States’s medicine to everyone; to give everyone longer lives, but that would be impossible with the way the military monitors this town.”
“They could try,” Tia mumbles.
“I think they will eventually. But right now I don’t care.”
“Marrin,” Tia chastises. “They could save hundreds of lives.”
“I don’t care,” he repeats. “I’m selfish. I don’t care what they do as long as it involves taking you to safety.”
“That’s starting to worry me.” Tia’s tone of voice is the one that usually comes with her pulling at the ends of her hair.
“What is?”
“The way you talk about getting me to safety.”
“That I want you to be safe worries you?” he asks curiously.
“No, the fact that you talk about me being safe alone is what worries me. You aren’t planning to come with me, are you?”
He sighs. I hear a rustling of fabric. “I told you that I was going to try to be better. And that means I’m going to try and do the right thing. If doing the right thing means me being unsafe—don’t look at me like that, I’m doing this because of you. Because I want to deserve you.” His voice dips and he sounds embarrassed. “I just want to deserve you. Is that a bad thing?”
Tia’s voice is soft and adoring. I don’t understand how she can love him so quickly. “No, that’s not bad at all.”
I don’t stick around to hear the end of the conversation. It’s got to the point where people start kissing and I don’t know if I have the stomach to hear that. I can’t begin to work out the relationship between my sister and the Official. One thing is for sure, though—he loves her—and although that should worry me, it makes me feel better. At least now I know why he did the things he’s done. At least now I can work on trusting him, for Tia.
14:14. 08.10.2040. Forgotten London, Edgware Zone.
“Finally,” I exhale, coming to stand beside Dalmar. He’s with Hele. I should have guessed, but lately he’s been in a million places at once. “I came to say goodbye.”
“Where are you going?” Hele asks. She looks a lot better than she did the last time I saw her when she was pale, lifeless-looking, and unconscious. Now she’s sat upright, looking like she did before she was infected.
“Into Underground London. With Tia’s … friend.”
A tiny frown appears on her face, though she tries to hide it. “I suppose I knew you’d leave us eventually. Nobody can tie you down. It’s in your name after all—Frie, like free.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I avoid it altogether. “Hele,” I begin hesitantly, “are you okay? I mean … with the infection and the vaccine and everything?”
“I’m fine.” She brushes off my concerns. Dalmar shrugs when I glance at him. He doesn’t know if she’ll be okay.
“Are you going with the rest of them to the border?” I ask, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Or are you going into the inner zones?”
Hele shakes her head.
“We’re staying here,” Dalmar says.
Something electric singes my spine. Fear. “I don’t understand. I thought everyone was leaving.”
“A small number of us are staying behind. There are important things here that need protecting,” Hele explains patiently
“But the military is attacking the base! You won’t be safe.”
Hele falls silent.
Dal looks at me for a long time before he says, “Neither will you. We’re all doing what we think is the right thing to do. This is what we think is the right thing.”
I force myself to be reasonable, to not be as selfish as I was about Tia leaving. “I understand. I just … hope this isn’t the end.”
“So do we.” Hele rises from the chair she’s sat in to hug me. “Whatever you do, no matter how unsafe and how dangerous it is, promise me that you won’t do anything to risk your life unnecessarily. Promise me you won’t sacrifice yourself in any way. Because you have a self-sacrificing nature, Honour. I think sometimes that you believe you’re not good enough, but you are. You’re worth more than this. And remember what your father’s letter said—you have a purpose. So don’t go throwing your life away, all right?”
“Okay,” I agree uncertainly. She brushes my cheek with her hand and lets me go.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Dalmar says. He’s frowning. I wish I could stay with him and Hele, but I have an unexplainable feeling telling me that I need to go with Marrin. Besides, Horatia’s in love with him. If she hears where he’s going, she’s going to end up going with him, and there’s no way I’m losing my sister again. So I can’t stay with Hele and Dalmar, but I want to.
I feel like I’m sacrificing one half of my family for another half.
“As long as you don’t do anything stupid either,” I reply.
Dal agrees, pulling me in for a brief embrace. “When are you leaving?”
“At half past.”
“You’d better get going,” Hele says. Tears fill her eyes so I hug her again.
She doesn’t let me go for at least half a minute, and when she finally does she fusses over me, patting my hair down, straightening my clothes.
Dalmar smiles indulgently. “Hele, let the poor boy go.”
When she does I nod to Dalmar and run. I run down the corridors until I get to my room because if I don’t I’ll never leave them.
Anxiously, I change into the Guardians uniform that has been left for me. The sleeves are too long but at least I’ll fit in with everyone else. That’s a new thing for me: fitting in. I’ve never felt like I belonged to anywhere or anyone, sometimes not even my family, but I think I could belong with The Guardians.
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