“BERTHA!” Phoenix yelled. “The whole building is going down!”
“JUST LIKE THE LEVEL OF RESPECT IN THIS COCKPIT!”
She flicked the controls, and we sailed up and out of the warehouse. Rising copters crashed to the ground, falling into an abyss of fire and smashed rotor blades.
As our copter hovered in the air, a few others joined us. Below, I saw the supply shelves plummet through the floor as the Light House’s insides were consumed by fire.
At last, one final copter darted out the opening, billows of smoke erupting from the tumbling ruins behind it. It hovered near the others for a moment, then darted toward us. As it approached, its door swung open, and we were greeted by Chancellor Hackner’s twisted grin. Beyond him, an orb glowed green in the cabin.
He waved at me through the open door, his smile so white it burned through our fogged glass. There were other men in his copter I didn’t recognize—probably ministers, council members, or other corrupt politicians.
I glanced at Mila. “Pull the door open.”
She gave me a look. “You’re kidding me.”
Phoenix threw it open and tossed me his gun. I leaned out the door while he held my legs.
“Pity about the girl,” the chancellor shouted. “It was never my intention for you to have to live without her. If I had my way, you wouldn’t have lived at all. You will forgive me, though, won’t you, Bradbury?”
“GO TO HELL!”
I aimed at his throat and fired. A nail flew out in shards, bouncing off the side of his copter.
His lips twisted into another grin. “You can’t be serious, Bradbury,” he laughed. “This is too rich.” I fired again. The nails struck empty air. He laughed harder. “You’re killing me, Bradbury. God, this is good—your mother’s drool had better aim.”
“Aim high,” said Phoenix. “Just above his head, brace the butt of the gun against your shoulder, and lean with it when it kicks.”
I tightened my grip on the trigger. Hackner grabbed a gun from his cabin and aimed in my direction. I fired again.
A nail drove through the palm of his right hand. The gun fell from his grasp. He howled in pain, his eyes wild, and blood streamed down his arm.
“YOU LITTLE SHIT!” he snarled. “YOU’RE DEAD, BRADBURY! THAT I PROMISE YOU! I WON’T REST UNTIL YOU DIE WITH MY HANDS WRAPPED AROUND YOUR SKINNY LITTLE THROAT!”
A pink flip-flop flew from our copter and slapped him across the cheek. Mila gave me a wink. “Someone had to do it.”
Chancellor Hackner slammed closed his copter door. Through the tinted glass he mouthed: I will kill you, Bradbury. And then his copter tore off into the clouds.
Bertha pushed onward through the sky.
I turned to Phoenix. “We’re gonna let them get away? After all they’ve done?”
Phoenix shook his head. “Today is not our day.”
“The hell it’s not. We just brought down the Federation’s capital building.”
“What would you have us do?” he asked. “Kill them all right now? Maybe get a few of ourselves killed in the process?”
“Then why did you give me your gun?”
“It was too far for a kill shot, but he deserved to have someone to shut his mouth. And you deserved to taste vengeance,” he said. “They’re not getting away, Kai. We can always find them. They’re just people.”
I looked at the clouds the chancellor’s copter had cut through. “Some people are more than just people,” I said. “Those people are more than just people.”
“And we’re more than people,” said Phoenix. “We’re the sun breaking after years of rain. We’re the revolution. But killing off a few government officials won’t make the Federation’s people realize that. It will make them hate us for telling them everything they know is wrong. Killing the chancellor will just make him a martyr, and the people don’t need a martyr just yet. They need the truth.”
I shook my head. “I don’t need the truth anymore. I just need Charlie. Mom and Charlie.” Kindred rubbed my back and squeezed my shoulder. “Mom had this dip in her nose,” I continued. “Like a dimple—you could really see it when she smiled.”
“I bet she smiled a lot,” said Kindred.
I nodded. “Yeah, she did.” A pit formed in my stomach again. “It’s strange to think I’ll never see her again.”
Kindred shook her head. “You’ll see her again, dear.”
I forced a smile. “Thanks, Kindred.” I stared out the window at the sprawling sea. It started raining. “I wish you could’ve seen Charlie’s chopsticks. They always stuck straight out from the back of her bun. Sometimes, when she was in class, a pencil joined them. Occasionally a toothbrush, if she’d had a rough morning. Mom joked she even wore her chopsticks to sleep.”
Phoenix squeezed my shoulder. “Hang in there, kid.”
I glanced at the numbers swirling in the red orb. They flashed and changed to 71:00.
“Seventy-one hours,” said Phoenix. I just sighed and nodded.
Phoenix rubbed the ConSynth’s edge. “Take us home, Bertha,” he said at last.
Chapter 46
Sparky said our names were all over the news. According to the radio stations, there was a nationwide manhunt—the largest in the new world’s history—for the surviving Lost Boys. Boats scoured the seas, searching. Apparently, they even showed our mug shots before the movies. I, of course, was exempt from the coverage. The Feds were sticking with their story that I was dead. Charlie, too. Phoenix said, however, that it was just stuff for the press. The chancellor and Miranda were searching for us, yet they were also developing a plan. He said we should be doing the same.
They gave me a room in the New Texas fort, right next to Sparky’s. The whole island was pretty damaged, but its bones were still good, and, in time, they said it’d be fully repaired. And now I was officially a member of the team—an orphan, like the others. A real Lost Boy if there ever was one.
Kindred had put Sage in the bed I was in when I first arrived, and Phoenix had created a plan to get Sage an IV and keep her fed with fluids—he said as long as we fed her, she’d stay alive. We had a raid planned for a Newla hospital later that week, to stock up on the medical supplies she would need. We all agreed we wouldn’t let go of one of the bravest girls we’d ever met: our new friend, Sage.
I was sitting in the fort’s basement, running my hands along the ConSynth, when its countdown clock flashed 24:00. The red ConSynth felt warm beneath my fingers, like it generated its own heat, and maybe its own heartbeat. I heard feet on the ladder. Bertha and Phoenix join me in the basement. The air smelled vaguely like muffins.
I smiled. “Kindred’s cooking.”
Phoenix nodded. “She’s making a cake.”
“Blueberry, I assume?”
He grinned. “Wouldn’t doubt it.”
Bertha put her hand against my back and gave me an odd smile—the kind you give to your dentist when he says he’s glad to see you.
“All right,” she said, removing her hand. “I’m terrible at this shit—I just feel creepy.” She pointed to the ConSynth and held her face in her hand. “I’m really sorry about all this—about all these dead people you really liked.”
In a weird way, I was touched. Bertha wasn’t good at dealing with her emotions, but it was nice to see that she cared enough to try.
I patted her on the back and turned to Phoenix. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
“Go ahead,” he nodded. “Anything you want, and you’ll get the truth.”
“Why me?” I said. “I mean, I get that I probably would’ve died and maybe been tortured if Mila had left me to drown—but still, even after that, there were so many times you could’ve let me slip away. The first time I woke up and tried to kill you all—perfect chance to let me die. I dove right into a megalodon’s mouth, after all—it would’ve saved you a lot of trouble. Why would you want to worry about dealing with someone else? Someone who caused more problems?”