I can’t answer—I can’t form a single thought. He’s stolen my breath, my words, left me with just a dim roaring in my ears. I can’t breathe, feeling like the ground’s opening up beneath me, ready to swallow me, and I’m not even sure I care. “Gideon—”
“My brother felt that way about her. I’m not ready to give up on either of them yet.” He reaches out again, but his fingers halt an inch away from my face. They hover there, and I can feel the pull of him, feel it like a physical force drawing me toward him. I lean in toward his touch just as he lets his hand fall and pushes to his feet. “Get some sleep,” he whispers, before ducking back out again.
The sound of crunching debris wakes me, and it’s not until I drag myself out of the jewelry store rubble that I see the pale, thin light of dawn streaming through the opening of the arcade. It was still daylight when we came inside—I must’ve been asleep for twelve hours. My neck muscles spasm as if in recognition of that, protesting my bed of cold marble and debris.
Flynn and Jubilee are awake and moving around, their footsteps making the noise that woke me. Spotting me in the archway, Flynn flashes me a smile and then tosses one of the apples from the LaRoux estate’s kitchen my way. “Morning,” he greets me, managing to elicit a smile from me in return.
“Is it really morning?” I mumble, catching the apple with difficulty, my reflexes still trying to shake off sleep.
“It’s really morning.” That’s Sanjana, sitting on the other side of the hall, eating her own breakfast of a banana and something out of a pouch with the LaRoux lambda seal on it, no doubt taken from work. “You slept?”
“Like a coma patient.” I bite into the apple, my taste buds jolting at its flavor—it’s then that I discover I’m ravenous, as though now that my body’s gotten some sleep, it’s tackling the other problems on the list one by one.
I can’t bring myself to sit, devouring the apple as I circle the small area in the arcade that’s free of fallen beams. I crouch, peering into the alcove where Flynn and Jubilee had vanished yesterday, finding it empty. I straighten, casting my eyes around again. “Guys…” I swallow my mouthful of apple. “Where’s Gideon?”
Sanjana looks up from her banana. “He wasn’t in there with you?” Her head tilts toward the store where I spent the night.
“No.” A flicker of alarm starts at the base of my spine. “Where’s Tarver?”
Jubilee glances at Flynn, who shakes his head. “I just thought…” She glances at the entryway and the soft morning light beyond. “I thought he went to get some air.”
I keep scanning the arcade, even though I know one more look isn’t going to make either of them materialize out of thin air…and then realization washes over me. “His gear,” I gasp, dropping the apple.
“What?” Jubilee turns, standing in the doorway.
“Gideon’s gear. His goggles, his drives, his lapscreen…they’re gone.”
Sanjana gives a wordless exclamation. “The shields…” She points to where two of them sit, repaired, one atop the other by the door—hers and Flynn’s. The one Tarver had been using is missing.
I glance from her to Flynn, and to the soldier by the door. Jubilee’s eyes meet mine for a long moment, and then I find my feet flying toward the hallway. I push past her into the street, calling Gideon’s name and Tarver’s—she and Flynn join in the search, and though we have to stop shouting for them to avoid attracting husks, we fan out to cover the entire block, building by building. It’s not until we end up back at the arcade to see Sanjana’s ashen face in the entryway that my feet stop moving. “The printouts of the programming language are missing,” she whispers.
Gideon and Tarver are gone.
“We have to go after them.” Jubilee’s voice is urgent, her feet carrying her straight to her pack so she can start shoving supplies back into it, ready to move out.
“Jubilee, stop.” My own body’s demanding that I act, fear and worry making me want to leap out of hiding and take off after them. “There’s no way we’re going to catch up with them. They could be hours ahead of us, and we don’t even know what path they’re taking.”
“We can’t let them attempt to save Lilac.” Sanjana grimaces as she prods at her broken ribs with her good hand.
Jubilee’s brows rise a little as she shoots the scientist a sidelong glance. “You don’t let Merendsen do anything. He does what he wants and you either help him or you get out of his way.”
“Look,” I break in quickly as Sanjana opens her mouth to retort, “we don’t know where they are, but we do know where they’re going.” I swallow hard, trying to banish the tangle of guilt and pain and fear choking my voice. “And I know a way to get to the Daedalus without having to fight our way past every husk in the city. We might be able to beat them there if we go down into the undercity.”
Jubilee’s eyes snap toward mine. “Down? Into the slums?” Her face tightens. “It’ll be chaos down there. Too many people to have evacuated…There’ll be looting, rioting.”
“Which means that down there, in the chaos, we’ll be that much harder for any husks to spot. We can blend in. The elevators won’t work without power, but we can climb down the maintenance shafts, travel below, then come back up inside the LaRoux Industries compound.”
I’m speaking quickly, and it takes the others a few seconds to absorb the plan, glancing round at each other. Sanjana speaks first, clearing her throat. “I can’t climb anywhere,” she says, her tone brooking no argument as she lifts the arm with the dead prosthesis. “Not until I get this thing repaired. You’ll have to leave me here.” Flynn starts to argue, and Jubilee a second afterward, but Sanjana cuts through the debate. “This is bigger than any one of us. I can’t argue that it’s bigger than Lilac and not apply the same logic to myself.”
Jubilee exhales audibly, raking her fingers through her hair. “We’ll signal Mori—an ally—as soon as we find a working radio. She and her guys will come get you.”
“I won’t be going anywhere,” Sanjana replies, with a shaky smile. “Just make sure you get there in time. Make it count.”
“We will.”
“And then?” There’s an apology in her gaze for asking the question, but she doesn’t waver. “When you reach the rift—when you reach Lilac—what then?”
Jubilee’s gaze creeps across toward Flynn, and the air fills with the words no one wants to say aloud. Eventually, I’m the one who draws breath. “We’ve got a day to figure out some other way. If by the time we reach the Daedalus we still don’t…” I let that breath out, shaky. “Then we destroy the conduit.”
The gray world is full of anger and pain, the two sides of this war both so colored by hatred that each is the same shade of darkness as the other. They are so similar, longing for peace, for justice, for quiet, and yet they kill each other as though they seek death, not life.
As our keeper forces us to greater and greater acts of destruction, we…I…do what little I can to find balance. I cannot stop a father from strapping explosives to his chest, but I can reach inside the green-eyed boy and plant the idea to move just far away enough that the blast will not kill him. I cannot shield the girl with the dimpled smile from the grief of losing her father, but I can help her sleep, help her decide to keep breathing each day.
And I cannot save the girl with the beautiful dreams, the girl I once knew on another world, in another life, from all that is to come. But I can keep her safe from the others. And I can find faith in her dreams.