I was wrong. The certainty of this sits in my stomach like a dead weight, a rock of guilt for turning so viciously on June when she’d tried to explain all of it to me in the underground shelter. The awful things I’d said to her. I think of the strange, unsettling ads I’ve seen here, the crumbling living quarters of the poor, the disappointment I feel in knowing that the Colonies aren’t the shining beacon my father imagined. His dream of glittering skyscrapers and a better life was just that.
I remember my dream of what I’d do after all this was over . . . run into the Colonies with June, Tess, Eden . . . start a new life, leave the Republic behind. Maybe I’ve been trying to escape to the wrong place and run away from the wrong things. I think of all the times I clashed with soldiers. The hatred I had for Anden and everyone who grew up rich. Then I picture the slums that I’d grown up in. I despise the Republic, don’t I? I want to see them collapse, yeah? But only now do I make the distinction—I despise the Republic’s laws, but I love the Republic itself. I love the people. I’m not just doing this for the Elector; I’m doing this for them.
“Are the speakers at the Capitol Tower still hooked up to the JumboTrons?” I ask Kaede.
“As far as I know, yeah,” she replies. “With all the commotion over the last forty-eight hours, no one’s noticed the modified wiring.”
My eyes go to the rooftops, where fighter jets lie in wait. “Are you as good of a pilot as you say?” I ask.
Kaede shrugs her shoulders and grins. “Better.”
Slowly, a plan starts to form in my mind.
Another pair of Colonies soldiers runs by. This time, an unsettling feeling creeps down my neck. These soldiers, like the last ones, also turn down the alley we’d come through. I make sure there are no more coming, then hurry out into the darkness of the street. No, no. Not now.
Kaede follows close behind. “What is it?” she whispers. “You just turned as white as a goddy snowstorm.”
I’d left her alone and vulnerable in a place I once thought would be our safe haven. I’d left her to the wolves. And if something happens to her now because of me . . . I break into a run. “I think they’re heading toward the hospital,” I say. “For June.”
I SNAP OUT OF MY DREAM, LIFT MY HEAD, AND MY EYES sweep the area. The illusion of Metias vanishes. I’m in a hospital room, and Day is nowhere to be seen. It’s the middle of the night. Hadn’t we been in here earlier? I have a vague recollection of Day at my bedside, and Day stepping out onto the balcony to greet a cheering crowd. Now he’s not here. Where did he go?
It takes me another second, light-headed as I am, to figure out what woke me up. I am not alone in the room. There are half a dozen Colonies soldiers in here. A tall soldier with long red hair hoists her gun and points it at me.
“That’s the one?” she asks, keeping me in her line of fire.
An older male soldier nods. “Yup. Didn’t know Day was hiding a Republic soldier. This girl is none other than June Iparis. The Republic’s most well-known prodigy. DesCon Corp will be happy. This prisoner’s going to be worth a lot of money.” He gives me a cold smile. “Now, my dear. Tell us where Day went.”
* * *
Sixteen minutes have passed. The soldiers have secured my hands behind my back with a temporary set of cuffs. My mouth is gagged. Three of them stand near the room’s open door, while the others guard the balcony. I groan. Even though my fever is gone and my joints don’t ache, my head still feels dizzy. (Where did Day go?)
One of the soldiers talks into an earpiece. “Yes,” he says. A pause, and then, “We’re moving her to a cell. DesCon’s going to get a lot of good info out of this one. We’ll send Day along for questioning once we get hold of him.” Another soldier is holding the door open with his boot. They’re waiting for a gurney to arrive, I realize, so they can take me away. That means I probably have less than two or three minutes to get myself out of this.
I clench down on my gag, force down my nausea, and swallow. My thoughts and memories are getting jumbled up. I blink, wondering if I’m hallucinating. The Patriots are being sponsored by the Republic. Why didn’t I see that earlier? It was so obvious, right from the beginning—the elaborate furnishings in the apartment, how easily Razor could get us from place to place without getting caught.
Now I watch the soldier continue to talk into his earpiece. How do I warn Day now? He must have left through the balcony doors—when he comes back, I’ll be gone and they’ll be here, ready to question him. They might even think we’re Republic spies. I run a finger repeatedly across my paper clip ring.
The paper clip ring.
My finger stops moving. Then I inch it gradually off my ring finger behind my back and try to unfurl its spiraling metal wires. A soldier glances at me, but I close my eyes and let out a soft moan of pain through my gag. He returns to his conversation. I let my fingers run down the spiraling ring and pull it straight. The paper clips were twisted six times. I unfurl the first two. Then I straighten out the rest of the paper clip and bend it into what I hope is a stretched-out Z shape. The movement makes both of my arms cramp painfully.
Suddenly one of the balcony soldiers stops talking to check the streets below. He stays like that for a while, his eyes searching. If he heard Day, Day must have vanished again. The soldier scrutinizes the roofs, then loses interest and goes back into his stance. Far down the hospital corridor, I hear people talking and the unmistakable sound of wheels against the tiled floor. They’re bringing the gurney.
I have to hurry. I insert one, then two of the bent paper clips into the lock on my cuffs. My arms are killing me, but I don’t have time to rest them. Gingerly I push one of the wires around in the lock, feeling it scrape against the lock’s interior until it finally hits the tumbler. I twist the paper clip, pushing the tumbler aside.
“DesCon’s on their way with some backup,” one soldier murmurs. As he says it, I move the second paper clip and hear the pin in the lock give a tiny, almost imperceptible click. Two soldiers and a nurse wheel the gurney into my room, stop for a moment inside the doorway, then roll it in my direction. The lock on my chains opens—I feel the cuffs coming off my hands with a soft clank. One soldier fixes milky blue eyes on me and pulls his thick lips into a frown. He notices the subtle change in my expression, and heard the clicking sound as well. His eyes flick to my arms.
If I’m going to make a break for it, now’s my only chance.
Suddenly I twist to the side of the bed and jump off. The chains fall back into the bed and my feet hit the floor. Dizziness hits me like a wall of water, but I manage to keep it at bay. The soldier with his gun pointed at me shouts out a warning, but he’s too slow. I kick out at the gurney as hard as I can—it topples over, taking down one soldier with it. Another soldier grabs at me, but I duck and manage to slip out of his grasp. My eyes focus on the balcony.
But there are still three soldiers standing over there. They rush at me. I avoid two of them, but the third catches me around my shoulders and wraps an arm across my neck. He throws me down, knocking the breath out of me. I struggle frantically to free myself.
“Stay down!” one exclaims, while another tries to snap a new set of cuffs on my wrists. He lets out a howl as I twist around and sink my teeth deep into his arm.
No good. I’m captured, I’m arrested.
Suddenly the balcony’s glass door shatters into a million pieces. The soldiers spin around, bewildered. Everything is whirling. In the midst of shouts and footsteps, I see two people breaking into the room from the balcony. One’s a girl I recognize. Kaede? I think incredulously.
The other is Day.
Kaede kicks one soldier in the neck—Day barrels into the soldier holding me down and knocks him to the floor. Before anyone can react, Day’s up again. He grabs my hands and yanks me to my feet.
Kaede’s already at the balcony ledge. “Don’t shoot them!” I hear a soldier call out behind us. “They’re valuable property!” Day rushes us onto the balcony, then leaps onto the r
ailing’s ledge in one bound. He and Kaede try to pull me upright as two other guards run toward us.
But I start sinking to my knees. My sudden burst of energy is no match for my lingering illness—I’m too weak. Day jumps back down from the ledge and kneels beside me. Kaede lets out a whoop, tackling one of the soldiers to the ground. “See you there!” she yells back at us. Then she rushes inside the room amid all the confusion, throwing the guards off. I see her slip out of their grasp and vanish down the corridor.
Day takes my arms, then wraps them around his neck. “Don’t let go.” When he straightens, I tighten my legs around him and cling to his back as hard as I can. He climbs onto the balcony ledge, boots crunching through broken glass, and leaps onto the outcropping that wraps around the second floor. Immediately I understand where we’re going. We’re all heading for the roof, where fighter jets lie in wait. Kaede is taking the stairs. We’re traveling by a more direct route.
We edge out onto the second-floor ledge. I hang on for dear life. Strands of Day’s hair brush against my face as he pulls us up to the third floor’s outcropping. I feel his rapid breathing, his muscles hard against my skin. Two more floors to go. A soldier attempts to follow us, decides against it, then rushes back inside to take the stairs.
Day struggles with his footing as he pulls us up one more floor. We’re almost at the roof. The soldiers start spilling out onto the lawn below. I can see them pointing their guns up at us. Day grits his teeth and sets me down on the ledge. “Go first,” he whispers, then gives me a boost. I grab the top ledge, gather all my strength, and pull. When I finally make it over the edge, I whirl around and grab Day’s hand. He leaps onto the roof too. My eyes go to a streak of dark red staining his hand. He must’ve injured it in the climb.
I feel so light-headed. “Your hand,” I start to say, but he just shakes his head at me, wraps his arm around my waist, and guides us toward the nearest of the fighter jets lining the roof. Soldiers start flooding out of the roof’s entrance door—I get a good look at the one running fastest toward us. Kaede.
KAEDE WASTES NO TIME. SHE GESTURES TOWARD the fighter jet closest to us and sprints up the ramp to its cockpit. Shots ring out. June leans heavily against me. I can feel her strength fading, so I pick her up and carry her close to my chest. The soldiers who have reached the roof move faster once they see what Kaede’s up to. But she’s too far ahead of them. I rush us toward the ramp.
The jet’s engine roars to life as we reach the ramp’s first step, and right below the aircraft, two large exhausts slowly tilt downward to face the ground. We’re gearing up for a straight shoot into the sky. “Hurry the hell up!” Kaede screams from the cockpit. Then she ducks back out of view and spits out a string of curses.
“Let me down,” June says. She hops back onto her own feet, stumbles, and then straightens to take the first two steps. I stay behind her, my eyes fixed on the soldiers. They’re almost here. June manages to reach the top of the ramp and climb into the cockpit. I hurry halfway up the ramp before a soldier grabs my pant leg and yanks me back down. Remember balance. Stay on the balls of your feet. Catch him at the right spots. June’s fighting lesson rushes through my head all at once. When the soldier swings at me, I duck down, move to his side, and hit him as hard as I can right below his rib cage. He collapses onto one knee. Liver blow.
Another two soldiers reach me and I brace myself. But then one of them shrieks, falling backward off the ramp with a bullet wound to his shoulder. I glance up at the cockpit. June has Kaede’s gun and is taking aim at the soldiers. I turn back to the steps and hop up to the top, where June’s already buckled in the middle seat right behind Kaede. “Get in, already!” Kaede snaps. The engines let out another high-pitched roar. Behind me, several guards have started climbing up the first few steps.
I leap onto the metal railing lining the edge of the ramp, grab the side of the cockpit, and push with all my strength. The ramp teeters for a second—then starts toppling over. Soldiers shout warnings and fling themselves out of the way. By the time it smashes onto the roof, I’m already in the jet and buckling myself into the last seat. Kaede slides the cockpit shut. I feel my stomach drop as we shoot straight up off the roof and above the buildings. Through the cockpit’s glass, I can see pilots rushing into the jets on nearby buildings as well as the second one sitting on the hospital’s roof.
“Damn it all,” Kaede spits out from the front. “I’m gonna kill them—they got me in my side.” I feel the jet’s exhausts shift. “Hang on. This is gonna be a wild ride.”
We stop rising. The engines grow to a deafening roar. Then we shoot forward. The world rushes at us and pressure in my head builds as Kaede pushes the jet faster and faster. She lets out a whoop. Almost immediately I hear a voice crackling through the cockpit.
“Pilot, you are ordered to land your aircraft immediately.” The speaker sounds nervous. Must be a jet following us. “We will open fire. I repeat, land immediately, or we will open fire.”
“Only one jet in the air after us. Let’s fix that. Suck in your breath, guys.” Kaede turns violently, and I almost black out from the pressure change.
“All you all right?” I call out to June. She says something back, but I can’t hear her over the roar of the engines.
Suddenly Kaede yanks a knob back and pushes a lever all the way forward. My head slams into the side of the cockpit. We spin a full hundred-eighty degrees in less than a second. I see a jet flying straight for us at a terrifying speed. Instinctively I throw my hands up.
Even June yells out, “Kaede, that—”
Kaede opens fire. A shower of bright light streaks from our jet to the one in front of us. The engines yank us forward and up. An explosion sounds behind us—the other jet must’ve gotten hit in the fuel tank or taken a shot straight through its cockpit.
“They’ll be hard-pressed to tail us now,” she shouts. “We’re too far ahead and they won’t want to cross the warfront. I’m gonna push this baby to its max—we’ll be in the Republic in a couple of minutes.” I don’t ask how she’s planning to pass through the warfront without getting shot down.
When I look through the cockpit at the Colonies’ towering buildings, I let out a breath and slump in my seat. Glittering lights, shining skyscrapers, everything my father had described to me on the few nights a year that we were able to see him. It’s so lovely from a distance.
“So,” Kaede says, “I’m not just burning up fuel for nothing, am I? Day—we’re still heading for Denver?”
“Yes,” I reply.
“What’s the plan?” June still sounds weak, but there’s a burning purpose behind it, the sense that we’re about to do something pivotal. She can tell that something has changed inside me.
I feel strangely calm. “We’re headed for the Capitol Tower,” I reply. “I’m going to announce my support of Anden to the Republic.”
A COUPLE OF MINUTES TO GET INTO THE REPUBLIC’S border. That means, at the speed we’re going (easily more than eight hundred miles per hour; we all felt a sudden pressure change as we broke the sound barrier, like being dragged out of deep mud), we’re only two dozen or so miles from the warfront and several hundred from Denver. Day tells me everything that Kaede shared with him, about the Patriots and the true colors of Razor, about Eden, then Congress’s determination to oust the Elector. Everything I’d discovered and then some. My head was in a fog when we’d bolted from the room and made our way up to the hospital roof. Now, after the cold outside air and the speed of Kaede’s air maneuver, I can calculate details a little more clearly.
“We’re closing in on the warfront,” Kaede says. The instant those words come out of her mouth, I hear the distant sound of explosions. They’re muffled, but we must be thousands of feet in the air and I can still feel the shock each time they go off. There’s a sudden lift and I press into my seat. She’s trying to push the jet as high as it can go so we don’t get shot out of the sky by ground missiles. I force myself to take deep, calming breaths
as we continue to climb. My ears pop endlessly. I watch as Kaede falls into formation with a squadron of Colonies jets. “We’re gonna need to break from them soon,” she mutters. There’s pain in her voice, probably from her gunshot wound. “Hang tight.”
“Day?” I manage to call out.
I don’t hear anything, and for a second I think he blacked out. Then he replies, “Still here.” He sounds detached, like he’s fighting to stay conscious.
“Denver’s a few minutes away,” Kaede says.
We stabilize again. When I peer out of the cockpit down at the pockets of clouds far below us, I catch my breath. Airships (easily more than a hundred and fifty, as far as the eye can see) dot the sky like miniature daggers soaring through the air, stretching in lines off into the horizon. The Colonies’ ships all have a distinct gold stripe down the middle of their runways that we can see even from way up here. Not far in front of them is a wide strip of empty airspace where sparks of light and smoke fly back and forth, and on the other side are rows of airships I can recognize: Republic ships, marked with a bloodred star on the side of each hull. Jets are raging in dogfights all over the place. We must be a good five hundred feet above them—but I’m not sure if that’s a safe enough distance.
An alarm on Kaede’s control board beeps. A voice rings out in the cockpit. “Pilot, you are not cleared for this area,” it says. (Male, Colonies accent.) “This is not your squadron. You’re ordered to land on DesCon Nine immediately.”
“Negative,” Kaede replies. She pulls our jet up and keeps climbing.
“Pilot, you are ordered to land on DesCon Nine immediately.”
Kaede turns off her mike for an instant and looks back at us. She seems a little too happy about our situation. “Goddy talker’s following us,” she says in a mock authoritative tone. “We got two hot on our tail.” Then she flips the mike on again and replies brightly, “Negative, DesCon. I’m gonna shoot you out of the sky.”