Sparky hung forward in his seat. I ran over to him. In the folds of his arms, I saw Tim—bleeding.
“He—he was hanging on my chest,” said Sparky. “I—I thought if I spun, the bullets might miss me.” Tim’s eyes were closed. “They did,” he said. “But one got Tim… caught him in the arm. Caught him real good.”
“We don’t have much time,” said Sage quietly. She might’ve been blind, but she saw us falling apart better than anyone. “They’ll kill them if we don’t get there fast enough. Once they figure out the building is in lockdown, they’ll realize there’s no escape. And they’ll kill all of them.” Her blind eyes bore into mine. “Charlie, too.”
I grabbed Kindred’s flip-flop, and she placed the gum wrapper bomb in my hand. Her eyes were still trained on the man she’d killed.
“The twentieth floor,” said Sage to Kindred and Sparky, though I wasn’t sure either was listening. “Meet us at the twentieth floor. In twenty minutes,” she said. She pulled me out the door. I ran toward the stairs, but Sage shook her head. “Too many guards out there. Probably all waiting for us in the stairwell still. We’ll have to take the elevator.”
The elevator came only seconds after she called it. It seemed too easy, and a pit formed in my stomach. Something bad was going to happen. We climbed into the elevator, and I pressed the button for the eleventh floor.
Toward Dove, toward Bertha, toward Mila, toward Phoenix.
Toward Charlie.
The elevator chimed, and its doors opened.
Red sniper dots lit its back wall.
The guns fired.
Chapter 41
Sage shoved me to the ground as bullets poured in. They’d known we were coming. I slipped Sage a gun as we ducked to the elevator’s side, and we both fired back at the guards. Sage handled the gun almost better than I did.
The red dots disappeared, and the gunfire ceased. We jammed the “Hold Door” button and waited for another round of retaliation, but none came. I poked my head out past the elevator’s door. Ahead, a desk sat empty in a corridor. Behind it, a door sat propped open and a retina scanner screeched. Where were all the guards who’d been firing at us?
Sage pointed ahead. “This way.”
As we hurried down the hallway, there was no one in sight—the guards were gone. Sage pushed past an empty desk and a screeching scanner, and I followed. We hurried down the line of cells. A door at the end of the hall stood open.
“FOR CHRIST’S SAKE.” It was Bertha’s unmistakable voice, shouting through the barred slots of one of the cell doors. “IT’S ABOUT TIME—”
Sage slammed the slot shut as she passed. She continued running down the hall and I followed her lead. Bertha and the others could wait. First, we had to find Charlie.
Sage ran straight for the open cell door, and cursed when she reached it. She wrapped her fingers along the doorway’s cold metal frame. “They got her,” she said quietly.
“What? What do you mean?” I scanned the room. My heart sank in my chest. No one was there. The cell sat empty.
“They must’ve taken her to the chancellor’s chambers,” said Sage. “They’ve been carting her between the two for a couple of days now.”
Now I understood why the guards had ceased fire—and why we had so easily avoided being shot. They hadn’t been trying to kill us at all; they’d merely been stalling us while they took Charlie hostage. My chest felt tight again, and I swallowed. “Where are the chancellor’s chambers?”
“One floor above us,” said Sage through pursed lips.
“We just rode past it.” Sage nodded. “We’ll—we’ll find her,” I said, hoping Sage didn’t detect the uncertainty in my voice. “Let’s get the others first.”
Bertha slapped me hard when Sage finally unlocked her door.
“Ran right past me!” she muttered. She grabbed the pink flip-flop I still held in my hand and slammed it across my chest. “And I have absolutely zero doubt you laughed about my flip-flops too… Probably thought Kindred was wearing them for sport.” She turned the sandal in her hand and examined its torn strap. “You get the bomb out?”
I nodded, and placed the bundle of microscopic explosive in her hand. She assessed its crumpled sides before slapping me again with the flip-flop. “Now let’s get the others.”
Mila stared at me hard when her cell door swung open. Her jaw tightened. “You.”
I stepped back. “Uh—er—hey, Meels?”
She stormed past me. “Don’t call me that.”
Bertha passed her the flip-flop, and she smacked me upside the head.
“Are we even now?” I asked.
“Not even close,” Mila said. She gave me a small smile, and then hugged me.
Dove was staring idly at the wall when we got his cell open. “Dove,” I said, waving my arms in his direction. “Dove Malone! Earth to Dove Malone!”
He shook his head and looked confused. “Whoa, whoa—uh, sorry,” he said. “Sorry about that. I was sorta daydreaming… You know… like when you’re dreaming… but you’re also awake.”
I patted him on the back. He still looked stunned. “Right, then,” I said, grateful he hadn’t slapped me. “It’s good to see you too, Dove.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Wait a minute… You’re the reason we got sent here.” Bertha offered the flip-flop, but he declined. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Balls,” he said, and then kneed me in the groin.
“I—I guess I should’ve seen that one coming…” I moaned.
Phoenix’s cell was farthest from the others. The Feds had known he was our ringleader, and so they’d punished him accordingly. I ran my hands along the cell’s painted black numbers. Cell 14.
Sage unlocked the door and pulled it open. Phoenix lay curled in a corner. His body was shaking and his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. Mila and I ran to his side. Bloodstains wrapped themselves around his forearms, and a fresh scar ran parallel to his collarbone.
They’d been torturing him.
Sage stood quietly in the corner. “He had a visit from Minister Zane last night.”
Bertha shuddered. “Don’t say that name.”
Sage nodded quickly. The worried look that flashed across her face told me she knew she wasn’t doing a great job of making friends. At least she still had Charlie. We both still had Charlie.
Mila rubbed Phoenix’s back. “Snap out of it,” she said. “Come on, Phoenix. We—we really need you right now.”
Drool rolled from the corner of Phoenix’s cracked lips, and his blank eyes stared at the ceiling. He grabbed my arm and pointed above.
Written on the ceiling in red—dried blood, I guessed—was a single word: Kai. My name was circled with a heart.
I recognized the handwriting. It wasn’t Charlie’s.
Phoenix pointed to the wall next to him. Mary Bradbury was scribbled in the same red.
It was Mom’s.
“I keep thinking,” said Phoenix, “about the things they’ve already done to me, and the things they say they’ll do—”
Mila shook her head and sucked in a breath. “Stop, Phoenix—”
“And I think about how long your mother was here. And the things she endured. The pain that strikes you like lightning. Everything gets foggy. Memories. Places. People. Everything. It’s like I’m looking at them through water, and they twist and turn with each ripple of pain. It’s like I don’t belong to life anymore. Like I’m this close to being unable to connect the names and faces ever again.
“Your mom must have felt like this, too—like she was standing in the middle of oblivion. But somehow she still saw your face, remembered your name, and wrote it on the ceiling…”