“Kindred and Sparky are safe, then?”
“I hid them in the control room.”
“The control room’s walls are made of reinforced steel. There’s maybe a fifty-percent chance they’ll make it even with the explosions.”
“That’s reassuring,” I said weakly. A copter landed on the beach and soldiers leapt out to wrap Bertha’s limp body in a cellophane net.
Phoenix watched as they dragged her away. “I’m not mad at you, kid. You did what you thought you had to do.”
“But I—I was wrong.”
He glanced at my ankles. “You’re wearing cheeseburger socks… Not the kind of kid I would expect to make every shot he took.”
“I thought you liked the socks?”
He winked. “Only on you, kid.”
God, he was cool.
Dove and Mila hurried to join us in the hall, armed with more of Bertha’s guns. They peered out as the men dragged Bertha’s body into their copter’s cabin.
Dove aimed his gun. “Balls,” he said, clicking off its safety.
Phoenix pushed Dove’s barrel down and shook his head. “We’re done.”
“WHAT?” Mila shouted. “What the hell are you talking about, Phoenix?”
“We’re done, Meels. Put your hands up and your head down when you walk out.”
“But—”
“C’mon, Meels.” He pointed toward the door. “Hands up.”
The Dummy Darts struck her and Dove almost instantly. I felt sick to my stomach. I had done this to them. I was the one responsible for their deaths.
Phoenix put a hand on my shoulder. “Well,” he said, offering his hand, “this is it. I’m the last one left. They won’t stop bombing the fort until I’m gone.”
I watched as another copter with black and green stripes landed. “You don’t have to go, Phoenix. We—you—could think of plan, and we could escape.”
“Revolutions aren’t fought with elegant plans, Kai. They’re fought with instincts.”
“Instincts?” What was he trying to tell me? What did he want me to do?
He nodded. “Revolutions are fought with instinct, not eloquence,” he said again. “You followed your instincts, and now I’m following mine.” He gave me a small smile. “Good luck, Kai Bradbury.” He stepped toward the door. “I’m afraid you don’t have much time left to save your girl. For that, and many other things, I apologize.”
My face went white. “How—how’d you know about her?”
He laughed. “It was the look on your face when Gwendolyn asked about her.”
Crap. “Was it really that obvious?”
“Painfully so, I’m afraid. Fifteen-year-olds aren’t particularly renowned for their ability to mask their emotions.”
The bombs stopped, and Chancellor Hackner stepped out from black and green copter. He strode past the destruction toward the fort.
“Besides,” said Phoenix. “I’ve known for a while that you were searching for something. After the incident with the megalodon, you seemed determined to stay with us. I should’ve known from the beginning it had to do with a girl.”
I laughed nervously. “Er—doesn’t it always?”
The chancellor was gone from the beach. Phoenix looked me in the eyes. “I hope he keeps his word.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I hope the chancellor keeps his word and gives you the girl.”
“How did you—?”
Phoenix smiled. “Because that’s what you want most.” He held his left hand to his eye. “The Lost Boys’ salute,” he said. I held my hand to my eye—my thumb resting on my jaw’s corner and my index and middle fingers against my brow—in response. “It reminds us to keep our eyes, ears, and hearts open when seeking the truth.”
“You’re not terrorists,” I told him. “Or anarchists. Or even Indigo Thieves. You’re revolutionaries.”
He grinned. “I’m glad you think so, too.” He started toward the door. “And, kid—I know what you heard me tell Vern, but you should know I never meant it. It was just something I said to get the Caravites’ help with the raid. I was never planning to kill you. Not in a million years.”
“Because I’m one of the Lost Boys?”
“Because you’re one of my friends.” He glanced at my ankles. “And because nobody deserves to die while wearing cheeseburger socks.”
A Dummy Dart lodged itself in Phoenix’s neck. He crumpled to the floor and convulsed. Chancellor Hackner appeared in the kitchen’s doorway wearing his trademark twisted smile.
“Ah, Bradbury,” he said, offering his hand. He kicked Phoenix’s body against the wall to reach me. “Truly a delight.”
I stepped back. “Where’s Charlie?”
He caressed his gun’s trigger and grinned. “Let’s be reasonable, Bradbury.”
My whole body shook—he’d promised he’d bring her. “Where the hell is she?”
Hackner licked his lips. “Come now, you didn’t really think I could let her go, did you? I mean, her mug shot’s been plastered across the Federation for nearly a week now. What would the press say? What would the people think?”
I balled my fists. “You gave me your word. You promised.”
“You’re a bright kid, Bradbury.” He shoved the gun against my neck and breathed in my ear. “You should’ve realized by now that a politician’s promises are worth less than dog shit.”
Phoenix was right. He was right about everything. I was the one who’d been wrong all along. The Feds had never been on my side—they’d never been on anyone’s side. There had never been a way to save Charlie.
Chancellor Hackner breathed in my ear again. “But I’ll make you a deal.”
“I’m done with your deals.”
“That’s unfortunate,” he said, “because I’m afraid you really haven’t much of a choice.”
Three of his men darted into the kitchen and wrapped Phoenix in a net like the others, then dragged him toward the beach. When they were gone, the chancellor continued.
“Because you’ve been so incredibly helpful, Bradbury, I’ve decided to let you go.”
“Let me go?” It was a trap. It had to be a trap.
“Yes,” he said slowly, “but only on the condition you promise not to come look for the others. I will allow you to run off, change your name, start a new life. We can burn your file and tell the courts you died in a megalodon’s mouth while resisting capture.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because,” he said, his lips twisting into a smile, “the thought of you spending the rest of your life alone—knowing you are single-handedly responsible for the death and slow torture of all your friends—would give me great pleasure. I don’t like arresting criminals, Bradbury—I like seeing them punished. I like to watch a man with fire in his heart smother his own flames to keep his soul from burning. So, what do you say?”
I resisted the urge to spit in his face and tell him to go hell. He was sick. There was something wrong in his head. Maybe he had no soul. I squeezed my eyes tight. I had to slow down for a second and think. And not the way I was used to thinking—my kind of thinking was what had gotten me into this mess in the first place. No, I had to think differently. I had to think like Phoenix. To Phoenix, there were always other options, other opportunities. There were two days before Charlie stood trial. Two days before the courts ordered her execution. There was still time.
Chancellor Hackner would take the other Lost Boys to the Light House—to the same prison that held Charlie. I could rescue them all. I thought about Sparky and Kindred, both of whom still lay unconscious upstairs—they could help me. Together, we could save everyone. There was still a way.
I buried my face in my hands. “Oh, god.” I paused for dramatic effect. “Oh, god. Oh, god.” I pretended to wipe away tears from my face before shaking his hand. “It’s—oh, god—it’s a deal.”