by Kevin George
She crawled and clawed and cried tears that froze to her face within seconds. The top of the snowy hill eventually came into sight, the crest being the steepest part yet. Julietta dreaded trying to get over it. A pair of hands suddenly appeared from over the side and reached down for her. White fur adorned them, but the arms wore the fur rather than having it attached. With nothing else to lose, Julietta lunged for the hands and barely grabbed them. She was pulled up and over the snowy lip, dragged to the safety of level ground.
Henry stood above her and removed the backpack from his shoulders, holding it out to her. “I think you dropped this.”
Remorse filled his eyes, not that he looked at her for long. He stared beyond her, his face etched in shock. Sally struggled to her feet and looked back at a massive crater in the ground; no sign of the outer walls, the fences, or the Dome. All that remained was her, Henry and the White Nothingness.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Oliver pushed through the battle, resisting the urge to call out Paige’s name for fear of drawing attention to himself. Luckily, the Sky Person’s unexpected appearance—and subsequent kidnapping of Queen Emma—and the increasingly violent rumbling had distracted fighters from both sides of the tunnel war. He cut through several enemies before spotting Paige, who hadn’t noticed the One guard bearing down on her.
“Come with us, Miss Blake,” the guard told her. “Your father wants you back.”
But Paige still stared into the distance, her expression blank with shock. When she finally snapped out of it, she ignored the guard, turning her attention to a wounded fighter nearby. The shaking grew more intense and larger sections of tunnel collapsed, causing plenty of One guards to flee. The One guard grabbed Paige’s arm, yanking her to her feet as she struggled to free herself. She didn’t have to struggle for long.
“You can’t help him,” the guard said through clenched teeth. “He’s already dead.”
The words no sooner left his mouth than the tip of Oliver’s spear burst through the guard’s back. The guard collapsed, dead, his grip on Paige going slack. Oliver didn’t have time to check on her before he was tackled from behind, losing his grip on his spear. Despite the jolt, he tried to roll through the collision and get to his feet, but the attacking One guard was big and strong and had good enough balance to keep Oliver pinned to the floor. The guard had also lost his weapon during the tackle, but he’d recovered enough to wrap his hands around Oliver’s throat.
White lights popped in Oliver’s vision. For a few seconds, his mind was clear enough to realize he was being choked. He tried to pull the guard’s hands away to no avail, and his follow-up punches did little damage. He wiggled beneath the man’s girth but only succeeded in losing his breath faster. . . blackness pushing in from the corners of his eyes. . . the screams and rumbles and chaos of battle fading as quickly as his life. . .
When the guard’s grip suddenly loosened on his throat, Oliver exploded into a coughing fit. Blood spattered into his open mouth and he spit it out as the large man tipped over, dead, his throat sliced. Paige stood behind him, weapon in hand and sneer on her face.
“That was for Kalford,” she told the dead guard.
Paige offered Oliver her hand and together, they backed away to the same section of tunnel where he’d waited with Emma. A few pockets of One forces continued pushing toward them, uncertain whether to fight or make peace or run away. When Oliver called out that peace was needed—that they all had bigger problems to deal with—several guards still blamed the shaking on an angry Lord and Jonas.
“Killing you is the only thing that’ll stop this!” a guard yelled before sprinting toward Oliver. But the guard was cut down by Fifthers remaining with the prince.
The ground shook and more of the tunnel collapsed, but the action still raged near The Fourth’s blast door. Oliver kept Paige between him and the blast door, a position to which she didn’t object. Once most of the One guards were gone—having fled down both ends of the tunnel—Oliver yelled for any of his remaining people to retreat to The Fifth. Many followed the order without question, rushing away at the first sign of permission; others were more hesitant, especially when Oliver didn’t seem to follow them right away.
“I’m going to stay. . . in case any more One guards show up,” Oliver told them. “I don’t know what’s happening to the rest of the city, but if I go to The Fifth, more One guards will eventually show up. I’m not putting any more of my people in danger. I’ll deal with the queen and return to you shortly.”
Fifthers exchanged skeptical glances, but the continued crumbling convinced them to go. Oliver tried to usher Paige toward the fleeing group, but she shook her head.
“I’ll go with you and speak to my father on your behalf,” she said resolutely. “He’ll listen to me and spare your life.”
Oliver shook his head. “That may have worked at one time, but my father is dead. Now that Raefaline is in charge, I’d rather die than be brought to her.”
Paige’s jaw clenched. “I didn’t do so much to keep you alive twice just for you to die now.”
Another round of shaking knocked them to the tunnel floor. An explosive cracking echoed behind them and Oliver saw a giant section of ceiling crumble. Once the dust cleared, he saw that the path to The Fifth was blocked, making his decision to stay that much easier. In a matter of minutes, the heat intensified, as did the stench of sulfuric fumes, so strong that Oliver was reminded of the palace throne room. He didn’t relish the idea of being buried alive, but at least his fate wasn’t being sealed by one of Raefaline’s orders, a small comfort in what he assumed to be the waning moments of his life.
A dozen guards suddenly marched toward Oliver and Paige. He gripped his spear tightly. He’d been prepared to die fighting beside Emma, but the situation felt different with Paige by his side. This fight wasn’t one he could win, and the idea of Paige becoming collateral damage was too much for him to bear. He stepped forward, dropping his spear for the guards to see, raising his hands in anticipation of whatever punishment they intended to dole out. The guards sneered, descending on him with weapons raised. . .
The ground shook harder and a different, closer sound—high-pitched squealing—joined the rest of the chaos. Oliver assumed it had been caused by whatever was destroying the tunnel, but the guards bearing down on him came to an abrupt halt, their eyes widening as they shook their heads.
“It can’t be,” one of them muttered.
The squealing became more intense and Oliver felt Paige grasping at his arm. He turned and saw The Fourth’s blast door slowly rising. At first, he assumed the door was malfunctioning. For years, he’d heard stories about the section being filled with the dead. But the figures standing on the other side of the door weren’t ghosts, and the man standing at the front of the group was familiar to Oliver.
“Tunneler?” Oliver asked, needing a moment to remember the old man’s name. “Irving?”
Irving nodded, and several dozen Tunnelers—makeshift weapons in hand—streamed out of The Fourth. Oliver tried to pull Paige safely away from them, but the men and women hurried around them and attacked the remaining One guards. Oliver barely watched the slaughter, instead focusing on a second team of Tunnelers emerging from The Fourth. These men and women were armed with tall ladders and several strange contraptions that looked almost like lava tubes. The Tunnelers worked quickly, seemingly unbothered by the chaos within the Main Tunnel, connecting smaller sections of tubing to one another until the final piece was so long that it stretched into the darkness of The Fourth. They leaned the ladders against the tunnel walls, scaling them despite the ground shaking, reaching the tunnel’s main lava lines. They cracked into one of the two lines and connected their own tubing, intercepting half of the lava flow meant for The Fifth.
Irving approached Oliver, grimacing at the sight of the prince’s facial burns. “I warned you not to trust anyone,” said the old Tunneler.
But Oliver was less interested in rehashing the past a
nd more focused on what waited inside the City Below’s ‘dead’ section. The flowing lava cast an eerie orange glow in The Fourth’s darkness, allowing Oliver to see even more Tunnelers waiting within, as well as the shadowy silhouettes of several large machines.
“You live in The Fourth?” Oliver asked.
Irving snorted. “After my people rescued me in the tunnels, I was just as surprised when they told me they’d found a way in. I told you that so many tunnels existed even I didn’t know about all of them. Anyway, the section wasn’t as dead as we’d always been told.” Irving was nearly knocked off his feet by more shaking and he looked toward the faint orange glow in the distance. “It appears everyone in this tunnel will be dead if we don’t get moving. Hurry, come with us.”
Irving clapped his hands and his people rushed back into The Fourth. Oliver had few options but still hesitated to follow. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to trust anyone? Especially you?”
Irving nodded, unable to suppress a grin. “Maybe there’s someone else you’ll trust,” the old man said.
He turned toward the darkness of The Fourth and whistled. Though Oliver saw many shadows scurrying in the darkness, most of them were moving away from the open blast door. But he quickly spotted a lone figure coming their way, the silhouette of a woman, not very tall, middle-aged upon closer inspection. When she stepped into the light, the wrinkles on Oliver’s brow faded, his eyes opened wider and he couldn’t suppress a gasp.
The woman stopped and held a hand over her mouth, the two looking at one another for several seconds, tears in both of their eyes, neither noticing the pandemonium still happening around them.
“Mom?” Oliver asked.
Queen Liv stepped forward first, stopping right in front of Oliver, reaching up to touch the burns on his face. She tried to keep a brave face at the sight of her son’s injury, but she couldn’t stop tears from forming. She reached her arms out to hug him, but his expression hardened and he backed up, shaking his head. This was the moment she’d been dreaming about for years, and Oliver’s reaction was exactly what she was afraid it would be.
“I’m. . . sorry,” she said, struggling to find the right words. “I know it’s been a long time. . . that I should’ve tried harder to get back to you. . . that—”
“Father said you went Beyond the—” Oliver said, feeling foolish as he stopped himself. “How are you still alive? How are you here?”
Liv frowned. “It’s a long story. I promise I’ll tell you everything, but we have to get moving.”
Another explosion rocked the tunnel. Echoing screams in the distance sounded more frantic than before, and the dim orange glow turned brighter by the second.
“Lava,” Irving said. “You have to come inside so we can close the blast door.”
“That won’t stop whatever’s happening to the city,” Oliver said.
“But it will give us time to get out of here,” Liv said. “Please, Olly, come with us.”
Oliver sneered. “I don’t want to hear everything,” he snapped, but he started into The Fourth, nearly forgetting that he was holding Paige’s hand until she began to pull away.
“My father,” she said, heading away from The Fourth, searching the chaos.
With the flow of lava approaching, the One guards that had fled earlier now rushed back. Oliver knew they’d risk death leaving The Fourth, but he didn’t try to stop Paige and even followed her, helping scan the guards for any sign of Zander Blake. Amazingly, they spotted the guard leader almost immediately. He was near the back of the forces, separated from his daughter by dozens of frightened fighters, but he looked up as Paige called his name. He stood in place, his expression going serene, and pointed toward The Fourth.
“I think he wants us to go,” Oliver said.
“I don’t care what he wants,” Paige said. “I’m not leaving unless—”
The white blur struck without warning, crashing into Zander Blake before he knew it was there. Paige screamed for her father and started running toward him, but Oliver wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, carrying her back to The Fourth. She didn’t resist. A few guards near Zander tried to help while others ran away, tripping over one another in the process. As the beast devoured her father alive, Paige called out his name over and over. She finally stopped once lava inundated Zander and beast alike.
The Fourth’s massive blast door squealed again, this time as it slowly began to lower. Knowing they’d reach it in time, Oliver put Paige down. She still stared behind them but allowed herself to be led to safety. They no sooner crossed beneath the massive door when Paige’s body tensed and she pointed into the distance. Oliver turned and saw a single hovercraft burst through a group of fleeing guards, knocking some of them aside. The hovercraft driver was hunched over the side of the vehicle, apparently dead, but the same couldn’t be said for the passenger in the back.
The craft overtook all the guards and appeared to be on target for a horrific crash, either against one of the intact walls or any piece of large debris strewn about the tunnel. But it somehow avoided disaster and drifted to a stop, barely bumping into the wall across from The Fourth’s blast door.
“We have to help!” Paige yelled.
She took off, dragging Oliver along as he tried to hold her back.
“The guards still want us dead,” he told her.
Paige shook her head. “Are you even looking? It’s not a guard sitting in the back. It’s a kid!”
“You won’t make it back in time!” Liv called out. “And we can’t open the door again once it closes!”
With a burst of strength, Oliver lifted Paige off the floor and threw her toward a few Tunnelers flanking his mother. Before anyone could stop him, he turned and sprinted out, glancing up at the door now halfway closed. The world around him was a blur, the One guards’ screams echoing down the tunnel but getting closer, the temperature rising as lava swallowed more fighters. Oliver’s eyes focused on the craft the entire time, the little kid huddled on the floor of the cargo section, hunched over but still breathing. A crack in the ceiling dropped a large piece of debris directly toward Oliver, who dove out of the way at the last moment.
When he arrived at the hovercraft, he reached into the back and found a dark-skinned little girl. More significantly, he found that she wasn’t alone. She gently rocked a small baby bundled tightly in a blanket. The little girl looked up with wide, frightened eyes, and extended the baby toward Oliver.
“Please, you have to save my baby brother,” she said.
Oliver recognized the girl right away. Before he’d left his old life in One—back when he was certain the queen would try to kill him—he’d conducted plenty of research on Raefaline’s guards. He backed away from the hovercraft and turned around, looking for any sign of Ryo, the girl’s father. The queen’s royal guardsman was nowhere to be found. A glance at the baby showed him to be incredibly young, possibly just born, not as dark as the little girl, but not as fair-skinned at many citizens of One.
“Your brother?” Oliver asked, understanding exactly what had happened as the words came out of his mouth.
Knowing who the baby was, he took a small, instinctive step back, a voice in his mind telling him to leave both children behind. But that thought—fleeting as it was—filled him with shame. He lifted the little girl out of the hovercraft, instructed her to hold the baby tightly and hurried with her toward the closing blast door. Worried they’d be too late, panic-fueled adrenaline flowed through him and he traversed the scattered debris without tripping a single time. He ducked as he reached the blast door, the metal brushing against the top of his hair as he made it under.
The screaming of guards filtered into The Fourth moments before the blast door closed for good, smashing the lava tube contraption, spilling liquid fire onto the floor nearby. Oliver hurried away with the children, neither of whom made a peep as Paige and several Tunnelers rushed to help. Behind him, Oliver heard the hollow pounding of fists against metal, though
the sound was mostly muffled. He collapsed to his knees, his body shivering, and didn’t look up until he felt a presence hovering above him.
Oliver refused to look at his mother. Behind her, The Fourth remained mostly in shadows, the only lights coming from the combined glow of dozens of lava torches. Distant pounding turned to distant screaming, but both noises soon faded, replaced by a distinct sizzling and the acrid stench of burning metal. Oliver glanced back to see the bottom part of the blast door starting to glow.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Liv said. “But that won’t be the case if we stay here. The door won’t hold much longer.”
Oliver nodded, and allowed his mother to lead him, Paige and the two children farther into The Fourth, where the large, shadowy objects began to materialize in the dim light. Dozens of people rushed around in chaos, many of them manning offshoots of the lava lines, the molten liquid being filtered into a variety of vehicles.
“Where’s my daughter? Tell me she was out there!” yelled a frantic woman. “Tell me she was with him.”
The voice was familiar to Oliver. He sneered at the sound of it but didn’t immediately realize to whom it belonged. A middle-aged couple emerged from the crowd, the man holding a toddler in his arms. Oliver spotted Martha Weller being intercepted by Irving, who slowly shook his head at her and William. Irving tried to place a comforting hand on Martha’s shoulder, but she pushed it aside. Oliver turned away, hoping to avoid eye contact, hoping to avoid having to tell Emma’s parents that he’d abandoned her to be taken by the Sky Person. When he looked back, he saw the Wellers being led toward one of the vehicles.
