Now we raced home to New Texas. I wondered where they’d dropped the nets filled with the Indigo cases, but I wasn’t really in a position to ask. I sort of figured they’d passed it on to the Caravites somehow. I guess it didn’t really matter. Not now. Not anymore. The Feds would get it all back soon, anyway.
Bertha broke the silence. “Well,” she said. There was more silence. She fiddled with the controls. Mariachi music blared. Mila pounded the back of Bertha’s seat. “TURN THAT SHIT OFF!” Bertha muttered curses under breath and turned off the music. More awkward silence followed.
Dove sighed. “Balls.” He breathed against the copter’s windowpane and drew a frowny face in the fog that was left. Underneath he wrote “Sory Kai.”
The poor guy was at least eighteen and he still couldn’t spell—but it was a nice gesture in his own way.
It was too late for gestures, though. My resolve had already hardened. I’d known from the beginning not to trust them—that everything they’d told me was a lie. Especially the stuff they’d said about Mom. They knew the Caravites had her this entire time, and they’d lied to me about it, hidden the truth.
“You can’t think about it,” said Bertha finally, still staring at the controls. “Thinking about it won’t make it easier. Not now at least. Better to pretend it didn’t happen—”
“Come on, Bertha,” said Dove. “Let the little man grieve for a minute.”
Her nostrils flared. “For Christ’s sake, Doveboat, there are worse ways to die than by a gun—”
“And how would you know?” I asked. My blood was boiling. “HOW THE HELL WOULD YOU KNOW?”
For once, Bertha fell silent. Everyone was silent. We just stared at the gray horizon. At the clouds that never went away—that just sat there, floating. Hanging, and would continue to hang until the end of the world.
Today of all days, however, my sky was a bit more gray.
It wasn’t easy when Dad died. I guess it’s never easy to say goodbye. It doesn’t matter how long you know it’s coming. When you watch someone get on their train, and they leave you standing at the station, it’s hard not to feel the rain.
Euthanizations weren’t easy. They were manufactured goodbyes. Cold and artificial. But they were still goodbyes. They didn’t feel like this—like someone had pulled apart the threads of your heart’s fabric.
The five of us stayed silent as Bertha landed the copter next to the New Texas fort. Dove squeezed my arm. Bertha caught my eye, sighed, and frowned. Phoenix and Mila did nothing. I guess they were still planning when to kill me. Probably would try to throw me out in the ocean. Make it look like an accident or something.
“We should’ve told him,” Bertha whispered to Phoenix as we walked toward the fort.
“Told me what?” I said.
“Nothing,” snapped Phoenix. “We don’t have anything to tell you, kid.”
“Is it time for my pill again?” I asked, wondering how long it’d been since I’d taken the last one. “When do I get my pills again?”
Phoenix frowned. I was pushing his buttons. Soon, he’d have no choice but to reveal his intentions.
“Since I’m apparently never getting vaccinated,” I continued, “don’t you think it’s about time for me to get them again?”
Bertha’s eyes widened, confirming my suspicions. The pills they’d given me were bullshit, like hormones they gave to cows to sedate them before slaughter. Never meant to be a lasting solution to the Carcinogens—just a temporary one to keep me quiet until they pulled the gun.
I ran into the fort. Why had they needed me at all? Why had they kept me around? Why had they insisted I go into the field with Phoenix for every mission if they were just going to kill me in the end? I closed my eyes and thought about the look on Mom’s face, her lips as they’d mouthed my name, the book I’d seen sprawled open in the Caravan’s library…
And suddenly, everything clicked: they’d been after Mom all along. The moment they had me in their hands and realized who I was, it became all about her. It was never about me at all. They’d been using me as a way to keep her cooperating, working on whatever sick plans they’d hatched for the megalodons. There was a reason the megalodons appeared whenever the Lost Boys got in the water. They were controlling them, some way, somehow. Just another one of Phoenix’s ways to start a revolution, I guessed. Mega sharks and microscopic poisons. God, what a guy.
As the others filed into the fort, I ran to the control room. I had to call the chancellor and stop whatever plan Phoenix was hatching. I didn’t trust the chancellor, but I trusted the Lost Boys even less. And, if I helped Hackner, there might still be a way to save myself and the nation. And Charlie.
Sparky swiveled in his seat as I entered the room. “KB!” he shouted. “You’re back, and you’re alive! Kindred and I were worried. We wondered if—”
I grabbed a gun from the table, and Sparky hesitated. He pulled Tim from his neck and stood. “Easy there, KB… Feel free to put that gun down at any time…”
I fidgeted with the trigger and fired a round at the floor. Darts bounced off the tile in lieu of bullets.
“Dummy Darts?”
Sparky nodded and stepped back.
“How strong?”
He stepped back again. I pointed the gun at his chest.
“Pretty strong,” he said. “Bertha added sedative to them. One Dart would knock you out for a few hours—maybe send you back a day or two.” I pictured Phoenix and Vern with several rounds of Darts in their chests. Tongues out, eyes dazed, brains scrambled—Fryers.
I kept the gun pointed at Sparky’s chest. “Show me how to work the control panel.”
He shook his head. “I just—I don’t think so, KB.”
I fired a Dart at Tim. He rolled from the panel to the floor. Sparky rushed to help him.
“Show me how to work the control panel. I need to know how to work the radio.”
Sweat collected on Sparky’s forehead and he nodded. He showed me how to work a few buttons. This one blocked the Feds’ transmitters. That one hid our signals on the network. This one could broadcast a message to any receiver in the Federation.
He glanced nervously at the gun I still aimed at his neck. “It’s kinda—uh—nice showing someone around up here. Dove and Bertha are the only two even remotely interested in learning. Bertha usually just slams the controls and starts pressing buttons. And, well, Dove—bless his heart—he’s a little slow, if you haven’t noticed. Nice guy—loyal to a fault—but doesn’t take the time to ask questions. He leaves those to Phoenix. Probably why they get along so well. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure he even knows how to tie his own shoes. I think Kindred does it—”
I fired a Dart into Sparky’s neck and tightened my jaw. I didn’t have time to listen to him babble. I needed to get out of here, to save Charlie while I still had the chance. I remembered the news report I’d seen in the mansion. Two days had passed since then. There wasn’t much time left before she was sentenced and executed.
I rolled Sparky under the table and wrapped Tim’s unconscious body around his neck. The door flew open. Kindred ran in, her eyes a flurry of tears. Her outstretched arms offered me sheets of muffins. “OH MY GOD, DEAR,” she sobbed. “I AM SO SORRY ABOUT YOUR MOTHER. I DON’T EVEN KNOW—”
I squeezed my eyes shot and fired a Dart into her neck—the Dart guns were easier to fire than their bulleted counterparts. She stared blankly at me, set the muffins on the table, and fell to the ground. I felt awful. I knew she wasn’t in on Phoenix’s plan—she was too nice—but I couldn’t let her get in the way. I rolled her under the table next to Sparky, praying that even if the Feds got the others, they wouldn’t find these two.