I popped Orry in the capsule, padded it with scraps of fabric, and slung him on my back. He was secure. Gus stood in front of us and yelled out some basic instructions, left, right, stop. Joseph nodded. I wanted to scream. We couldn’t do this.
I insisted Joseph sit in the front. We were having a ridiculous tug of war about who wanted to put themselves in danger more. But while my back was turned, he climbed out and stood in the driver’s seat. A woman slid into the front of our sled and I squatted behind her, an idiotic pang of jealously hitting me. I wanted to drive.
The ground shook again and the door to the dog room twisted on its hinges. It screamed in metallic twangs as half the ceiling around it fell down a few feet, intact but looking like a burgeoning dam about to burst.
This could have been the worst time possible. But I felt like the words would choke me if I didn’t spit them out now. I turned to Joseph and shouted, “I love you!”
I wish I could say the world melted away in that moment, that time stopped and it was terribly romantic. What actually happened was he snorted, his eyes glowing. I wanted to smack him and throw my arms around him at the same time. I knew exactly what he was thinking. Now? Now is the time you choose to tell me you love me? I tried to wink at him but I think all I did was blink both eyes. At that point, he threw his head up in the air and, although I couldn’t hear him, I could feel his whole-hearted laugh deep in my own chest, spreading warmth through me like no one else could. I rolled my eyes. I was so good at making a fool of myself.
I was speedily ejected from my happy state as the ground become unsteady under the sled and the nauseating sense of movement that was out of my control took over as the floor started rising.
We were on some sort of ascending platform, like an open elevator. Everyone’s faces were tense. Their mouths were set hard, looking up. I didn’t blame them. As we rose, we could see the destruction around us. The cavernous hideout was being scooped out like an old pumpkin, patches of sunlight streamed through vast holes. Big blobs of snow dripped and spilled over the edges like melting ice cream. The dogs were barking and everyone was clinging to their sleds for dear life.
We rose, wobbling, teetering. It felt like we were a plate balancing on a broom handle. It was dark and then suddenly we were pushed out into the frozen air like early spring saplings.
People sighed collectively in relief, but voices were quiet. We had come out on the other side of the hill and were hidden only by the mound that was fast collapsing. We didn’t know where the Woodland soldiers were. We were about a mile from the tree line. The survivors shouted at their dogs, urging them forward, and the dogs obliged.
The shouting morphed into a shattering bellow as the supports for the platform we were on started to give way. Metal creaked and strained as it swung one way and then fell to the side with a clang. The lip of the circular plate was barely touching the edge of the bank surrounding the hole. It looked so precarious it could have been clinging to a single snowflake. We were at the edge closest to the trees. Joseph shouted and the dogs started to run, our sled bouncing off and over a growing gap between the plate and the ground as it started to recede unevenly into the ground.
But there were still groups behind us.
I turned to see their sleds swing sideways and one, two, three of them slip over the edge and fall into the cavern below. Dogs yelped as they tried to find a hold on the metal plate that was now tipped at a 65-degree angle with their claws. They were running in the air as they fell. I wanted to jump up and help them but there was nothing we could do. The people didn’t even scream. I caught the stony face of the bored woman from that first meeting. Air whipped around her face, her sled spun, colliding with the dogs attached to it, making a hollow thud as it slammed into their ribcages. Then they disappeared into the ground in a tangled ball of human and animal.
Who was left? I could see Gus and Cal at the front. Matthew was with them. Apella and Alexei were there. They were disappearing into the snow as the camouflaged sleds and outfits shrank into the whiteness. But where were Hessa and Deshi? My ribs strangled my heart as I searched ahead and behind me, but I couldn’t see them.
I thought I must have been screaming—my voice as loud as the destruction, but my mouth wasn’t even open. My head was rattling, the ringing from the explosion and the pounding panic confusing me. If Hessa dies, I will die, I thought. I won’t survive it. I won’t. I won’t. I could feel Orry’s warmth on my back, realizing I had to. I had to survive anything and everything. It would keep coming, pelting me with new torment, and I would have to keep going, for him.
I kept searching for them and we kept getting further away from the hill, or what was left of it. Joseph expertly controlled the sled. I tried to see his face, to make eye contact, but he was firmly focused on the horizon. We reached the trees and snow-covered branches slapped me in the face. It was so cold it burned. The sharpest pain, a thousand tiny needles burying into my skin. I imagined I could remove my whole face in one frozen mask. My body was warm but the wind on any part of my exposed skin was like a punch.
The woman in front of me was leaning every time we turned and I copied her actions. It made the sled move more smoothly. She was quiet and calm. These people were crazy—or so far removed from crazy, they didn’t seem human.
As opposed to me, who was frantic. Hessa. Where was Hessa? My eyes skittered in my head as I snapped back and forth, combing the frozen tundra for some sign of them. There were none.
I wondered how far we would travel. It was so cold out here. My bones felt brittle and liable to snap. We wouldn’t survive for very long without shelter. A small sense of relief reached up when I realized the dogs couldn’t go on indefinitely. We would have to stop. Then I could make them turn around. I could go back and look for my baby nephew.
But we didn’t stop. Not for a long time. The explosions had either ceased or we were too far away to hear them. The other sleds disappeared into white and I found myself disappearing too, bowed inwards like the answers lay in my belly button. I imagined the soldiers would be searching through the rubble now, stepping over the bodies and doing headcounts. My own head was going over all the possible scenarios. If Deshi and Hessa had survived the fall, they would be back in the Superiors’ custody. That thought pierced through me harder than the cold. They would be better off dead. Then the guilt that accompanied that thought was unbearable. I wished I could talk to Joseph but it was too hard to even turn my head, let alone open my mouth. I tried but my neck was stiff, my voice carried away by the wind and the chorus of panting dogs and paw pads.
We just went on and on, moving through the trees. The sled cut a light track in the snow, gliding over it, almost flying. Everywhere, things that were once familiar were almost unrecognizable. The trees were bare. The light too bright, too shiny, like the sun itself had turned into a giant, cold, fluorescent light, giving off no heat but burning everything with its stark brightness.
We turned a corner and the woods stopped abruptly. A cold, dark line of trees gave way to a perfect 45-degree slope. The other sleds were pooled at the base. The dogs strained to pull their masters up the hill. Some people disembarked and pulled the exhausted dogs up by their collars. We got to the hill and Joseph did the same. His knees reached up as he waded through the snow, looking like he was doing high kicks. I jumped out too, or more like pried my frozen butt off the seat, and battled my way up the incline with Orry on my back.