I cleared my throat and pressed the button Sparky showed me earlier. I typed in “Chancellor’s chambers,” and the computer connected me to the appropriate radio network. “This is Kai Bradbury,” I said into the microphone, “declared enemy of the state and alleged Lost Boy. I’m tired of running. These people are not my allies or my friends. I want to surrender the coordinates of New Texas.” I paused. “Over.”
The radio went fuzzy as the chancellor’s voice came in. “This is Chancellor Hackner.” I could almost hear his twisting smile. “You have my full attention, Bradbury. You remember the conditions of our deal, I trust?”
I nodded. “You’ve got Charlie there?”
“Yes,” he said. “She’s with me right now. Go ahead and say something to your friend, Miss Minos.”
My heart pounded in my chest. My ears felt hot and my hands got sweaty.
“Hey there, Kai-Guy. I guess it’s probably not the best time to tell you I got a hell of a haircut.”
For a brief moment the numbness that had nestled in my heart vanished. I knew it would come back later, but when I heard Charlie’s voice, a flame replaced the dull burn in my heart.
I think it was love.
Crap.
The Lost Boys didn’t matter. They had never mattered. It was just Charlie and me. Soon, the nightmare with the Lost Boys would be over.
I took a deep breath and read Chancellor Hackner the coordinates.
Chapter 36
I shoved chairs in front of the table where Kindred and Sparky lay. If I was lucky, they wouldn’t wake until after the raid was done, and by then we’d all be gone, and they’d think it was still morning. They’d still be waiting for us to get home from the Ministry. Hopefully they’d stay safe and hidden. They were both vaccinated. Maybe one day they could join the general population and start new lives as honest citizens.
I imagined Sparky working at a computer store, and Kindred opening her own bakery. It’d be less exciting than the world they were used to, but it might be enough. They’d be alive and safe, and that was all that really mattered.
I shut and locked the door to the control room and wandered down to the kitchen. Mila stood slumped over the sink, refusing to make eye contact. I guessed it was better this way. Better not to look in her in the eyes again before the Feds took her.
“Sorry,” she said finally. She turned to face me.
I ignored the weight that sat on my chest. “It doesn’t matter.”
Her bright green eyes were different than any others I’d ever seen. Like me, she hadn’t been vaccinated. I thought of Bertha’s big brown eyes peering out of the windshield and realized she wasn’t either. Were their deaths a part of Phoenix’s plans, too?
Mila took a deep breath. “No,” she said, “it does matter. It probably matters more than anything. We never should have told you she was dead.”
I clenched my jaw. “But you did.”
“I think,” she said, slowly, “I think—what we all thought, what we all knew from the beginning… was that she was already dead.”
“But she wasn’t.” I could have saved her, I thought.
“No, fortunately—or rather unfortunately—she wasn’t dead, and she probably suffered for a long time because of it.”
I felt sick again. I couldn’t look at her. I reminded myself that the chancellor and his men would be here soon. To take her away. To take all the Lost Boys away. The real monsters had never been in the water. They’d never been the megalodons. They’d always been the Lost Boys.
Mila ran her fingers along the sink’s porcelain edge. “We try not to take in kids who’ve still got reasons to be alive. Kids who have their families. Kids who have their friends. We know what happens to these people when they join our crew—they’re tortured and killed.
“But what were we supposed to do with you, Kai? You grabbed my leg. It was all over then, even if I managed to kick you off. To the Feds, you were already one of us. Was I supposed to leave you in the water to die? From the moment we learned you weren’t an orphan, we knew they had your mom. The second you grabbed my ankle, she was already gone.” Mila sounded detached. I guess she was trying to distance herself from what the Caravites and the Lost Boys had done.
“Right before you regained consciousness,” she went on, “we all made the choice to tell you that your mother was dead. We decided that as a group—and even Kindred agreed.” I thought about Kindred shaking her head ever so slightly—looking out for my best interest from the start. “We didn’t want you to feel guilty about not looking for her—or worse, do something dumb to get her back.
“It wasn’t an easy decision, but we all knew it was right. We’ve all watched our parents die, and we all live with those deaths every single day… There’s a reason we call ourselves the ‘Lost’ Boys, Kai.”
I nodded, but I knew she couldn’t understand. Wasn’t capable of understanding. The way she talked—it sounded like she was reading off a flash card.
But soon the Feds would take her away forever, and I still hadn’t got the truth. I decided it was worth a shot—to be honest, asking anything at this point was worth a shot. She might not want to tell me who she really was, but it was the last chance I’d get to ask.
“How’d the Commissioner know your father, Mila? Why do you still mumble about your sister, Sarah, in your sleep? Why are you really stealing Indigo?”
It was the second question that appeared to catch her off guard. “Sarah,” she muttered, her eyes watery. The way most kids our age acted when they thought about the last day of summer.
“Sarah died when she was eight years old. The year she died, Gwendolyn Cherry was the director of the Longevity Observation Termination Telesis Operative—the ‘Lotto.’ Sarah was in the thirty-three percent of kids who don’t make it to fifteen to receive their vaccination—the group that falls victim to the Carcinogens’ effects. The group the government tell us would be saved if there wasn’t an Indigo shortage.”
“So now you steal it,” I said. “You collect the thing that could’ve saved your sister.”
“Indigo couldn’t have saved Sarah,” Mila said, shaking her head. “She was doomed from the beginning. She had weak lungs—you heard Gwendolyn.
“Every year at Sarah’s Federal physical, they told us the odds weren’t good she’d make it. They told us that, but we never believed them. We didn’t think it would really happen. I don’t think you can ever believe that sort of thing. Mom used to say the rational heart refuses to accept bad news… I guess it’s true.”
“So how—how’d it happen?” My head was spinning. I didn’t understand what was going on. The more I learned, the more questions I had.
“It happened in class.” Mila swallowed hard. “Sarah went to write something on the board—she was a good student like that, better than I ever was—and she had these big glasses. Probably two sizes too big for her head. I think my mom bought them that way on purpose. Thought she might grow into them. That if we bought something as dumb as big glasses she would have no choice but to live long enough to grow into them…
“They shattered when she hit the floor. The doctors told us her lungs closed up, and then her heart just sort of stopped. It had all been painless, they assured us. They said she was lucky to have avoided the seizures most of the other children had when it happened. I didn’t think she was all that lucky.