A thin sheet of paper fell from in between the keyboard and the folded-down screen.
Tessa immediately crouched to pick it up and read it:
I scrubbed this clean. (The computer.)
Forget about me.
Destroy this note, too, of course, and then there will be nothing to link you to any of this.
I’m sorry.
CHAPTER
9
Tessa crumpled the note in her hand. Then she changed her mind—that was too much like obeying. She smoothed the paper out again on her desk.
… then there will be nothing to link you to any of this….
That’s it? she thought. That’s the end?
She had been so pumped for confrontation—and for seeing Gideon again. It was hard to switch gears, to think of having an ordinary evening instead. Just another ordinary evening in a completely ordinary life. Ordinary, dull, tasteless, colorless, pointless …
What did you expect? she asked herself angrily. Gideon had told her that very first day to stay away from him.
Because he was protecting me, she thought. Like he was protecting me telling me not to watch the video of the war.
But wasn’t she linked to him and the war, no matter what? Because wasn’t the whole point of the war to protect people like her?
Tessa looked up from the note, because she couldn’t stand to keep staring at the brusque words, which might as well have said, You are nothing to me. You are nothing. Had he spent ten seconds scrawling out this note? Twenty? Was she worth that little? Couldn’t he have even signed his name?
Tessa stared out the window. The streetlights were out again. This happened a lot—with the war on, there wasn’t even enough money for spare lightbulbs. And some people said the sudden blackouts were a test, a trial run of what the city would do if the enemy’s bombers made it this far past the border.
“Why would anyone bother destroying Waterford City? How could it look any worse with bombs dropped on it than it does now?” was one of the jokes that people told.
Even without streetlights Tessa could make out shapes moving in the shadowed darkness down on the sidewalk. With infrared cameras and night-vision instruments, the enemy would have no trouble picking out people to kill. They could be in some airplane high overhead and then—
Stop, Tessa told herself. Don’t think about the war.
It had been going on her entire life, her parents’ entire lives, her grandparents’ entire lives. The oldest person Tessa had ever heard of—Mr. Singleton from the first floor—was more than seventy, and even he didn’t remember a time before the war. It was always there, as ever-present as air. The most talented children were selected for the military academies and sent away by the time they were ten; only rarely did any of them ever come back. But even people who weren’t directly involved in the fighting were part of the war. They assembled bombs in factories; they packed food for the soldiers; they scavenged parts from damaged fighter planes.
For a moment Tessa felt like she could see the way the war weighed on everyone walking by in the darkness. People walked bent over, crouched down, defensive—looking defeated just by all the years of fighting. One figure in particular practically clutched the building, as if ready to dart in at the first sign of danger. Every few steps he’d whip his head around, as if every noise spooked him. Between steps he stood with his entire body tensed, watching.
That’s Gideon, Tessa thought. He’s escaping.
At this distance, with all the shadows, she couldn’t see his face, could barely even make out his form. But she was still certain. Maybe it was because he was the only person on the sidewalk who didn’t move groggily, in a stupor—with all the other people, she could tell that whatever pain they were in had been with them for so long they were numb to it.
Gideon moved as though his pain were fresh and raw and throbbing. He moved like a dying animal leaving a trail of blood behind it.
I can help him/I can stop him echoed in Tessa’s brain, but fainter now. He didn’t want anything to do with her. She held up the note again, and the words—Forget about me…. Destroy … then there will be nothing to link …—jumped out at her. She flicked her gaze back and forth between the note and the movements out in the darkness, Gideon edging farther and farther away from her. In a few moments he would be gone, and whatever other choices she had would be lost.
Gideon was at the corner now, peeking around the other side of the apartment building. As soon as he turned his head, one of the figures behind him on the sidewalk hustled forward. Gideon glanced back over his shoulder, and the suddenly energetic figure dived down, out of sight.
Gideon resumed walking, and the figure darted forward again, hiding only when Gideon glanced back a second time.
Gideon was being followed.
The indecision of I have to help him/I have to stop him/He doesn’t want me melted away, swept out by a new resolve:
I have to warn him.
CHAPTER
10
Tessa burst out onto the street, having clattered down the stairs as fast as she could. With her first step out onto the pavement, she reminded herself to be careful; she couldn’t call attention to herself here. She slipped into the crowd and slowed her pace to match the slow plodding of the people around her. It was maddening to do this—she wanted to run.
Maybe they’re both gone, anyhow, Gideon and the one following him….
But, no. A hooded head ducked down quickly, half a block ahead of Tessa, and she knew that that had to be the follower. She stood on tiptoes and saw, far ahead where the street sloped down, another head turn. If only there were more light, maybe she could have seen a flash of golden hair. But it wasn’t just the streetlights that were out; it looked like the electricity was out on the first floor of their apartment building, too.
Strange, Tessa thought, creeping forward.
She peered around and saw that other lights were missing too: the tiny glow of red that always shone in the security cameras atop the apartment door. She’d never known those to be out. Did that mean the cameras weren’t working?
Even stranger, Tessa thought.
She couldn’t stop to figure it out. She concentrated on keeping the darting figure ahead of her in sight. She advanced one block, then two.
What good does this do? Tessa despaired. I can’t get past the follower to warn Gideon. Maybe I should run over to one of the parallel streets and get ahead of both of them?
Just then, far ahead, Gideon turned a corner. He might start darting in a zigzag pattern now; he might go anywhere. If Tessa tried to run ahead on a parallel street, she might lose him.
So I just … watch?
Some of the old books Tessa had gotten from her grandparents’ apartment had been spy novels. Tessa didn’t think anyone made such things now, but she’d read lots of the old ones. The stories were full of spies tailing one another, and double agents taking advantage of the element of surprise.
That’s what I have on my side, Tessa thought. If the follower tries to do anything to Gideon, I’ll run up to them and make a big scene, and Gideon will be able to get away.
Tessa’s heart pounded at the thought of the immense courage that would require. But she kept going, farther and farther from home, darting around corners behind the follower, behind Gideon.
Nothing to link you, Tessa remembered from Gideon’s note, but it did seem they were linked now, all three of them: Gideon to the follower and the follower to Tessa, every bit as distinctly as if they were clinging to a rope slung between them.
The areas around them grew dodgier. Tessa lived in a bad neighborhood, an ugly neighborhood, but it was mostly that way just because of neglect. The people in her neighborhood had given up. In the buildings she passed now, the decay and decrepitude seemed like an active thing, a violence lurking in the air. There were smashed windows, gaping holes in walls, burn marks on bricks, abandoned factories with obscenities scrawled on every surface.
The crowds thinn
ed out too, all the evil intent and despair distilled into a smaller and smaller number of people. Tessa shivered and drew the hood of her sweatshirt farther up, partially hiding her face. She hunched over slightly, trying to disguise the fact that she was a girl.
“Well, look at you,” someone said, the innocent words laced with such menace that they seemed to be saying something else entirely.
Tessa flinched.
Gideon would come to my rescue if I cried out, wouldn’t he? she wondered. And then she was disgusted with herself, because wasn’t she there to rescue him? Was she so helpless that she couldn’t survive someone speaking to her?
Automatically, she glanced ahead, scanning the crowd for another glimpse of Gideon.
Gideon was gone.
Tessa almost gasped, but the follower didn’t seem puzzled. The follower scurried three steps forward and then darted into a dark alley.
I am a fool, Tessa thought, and stepped blindly after the others.
Tessa stood for a moment at the edge of the alleyway, hoping her eyes would adjust. When they didn’t—when the darkness before her stayed inky and indecipherable—her brain threw something at her from one of those old spy novels she’d read.
It’s not like the street behind me is all that bright, but anyone looking out from this alley would see my silhouette….
She dropped down to the ground, her hands and knees landing in a puddle. She told herself it was only water, but that was probably too much to hope for. She stayed low and listened, her ears straining to make up for everything she couldn’t see.
She heard voices. First Gideon’s, tight and almost angry: “That was the price we agreed on.”
Then a stranger’s, low and indistinct.
Tessa edged closer, deeper into the darkness. She moved slowly, her hands sweeping out before her. Her fingers brushed sleek, curved metal—the side of some sort of vehicle. In this part of the city she would have expected rusted fenders, smashed-up bumpers. But this vehicle, whatever it was, didn’t seem to have so much as a dent.
“I know what I’m doing,” Gideon said, the anger almost palpable in his voice.
Tessa thought that he and whoever he was talking to—the follower? Someone else?—were probably several feet away. She couldn’t get too close for fear of running into one of them in the darkness.
Footsteps sounded, coming back toward Tessa.
Desperately, Tessa felt down lower on the side of the vehicle. Maybe she could hide underneath it. Lower, lower … her fingers hit some sort of latch, and a door slid open with a tiny whoosh of air.
The footsteps were getting closer.
You don’t have the slightest idea what’s going on here, Tessa’s brain screamed at her. It’s something dangerous—hide!
Tessa slipped in through the open door. She felt a seat before her—a leather seat, maybe?—and she scooted past it. She felt around, discovering a wide, flat, open space behind the seat. Maybe this was a van? Then Tessa found a padded column in the open space, and she shifted over to crouch on the other side of that.
Just in time, too, because the next time she heard the voices, they seemed to be coming from the open doorway.
“I know how to operate it perfectly well,” Gideon said.
There was a soft thump—Gideon stepping into the vehicle?
“We’d hate to see you destroy your investment,” the stranger replied, and this time he was close enough that Tessa could understand every word. His voice was oily and untrust-worthy. “We have your best interest at heart.”
Gideon snorted.
“I didn’t pay you enough for that,” he muttered.
Something clicked, and the barest amount of light glowed from near the seat in the front. Tessa huddled lower. Her foot touched something soft—a blanket?—and she pulled it over herself.
There was another soft click—the door closing. Tessa listened hard, desperate to know if the stranger had been sealed inside or outside. But no more voices spoke.
The floor vibrated softly beneath Tessa, as some sort of engine purred to life. The vehicle moved—forward at first, and then, as it went faster and faster, not just forward but also …
Up.
CHAPTER
11
For a moment Tessa couldn’t make sense of this. Up? How could we be going up? Surely her senses were scrambled; surely she was just confused.
But she felt herself rising and rising and rising, along with the forward motion, and finally her brain supplied an explanation: Oh. This isn’t a car or a van. It’s a plane.
Of course, she had never been in a plane in her life. She’d never even seen one up close, only in pictures and news footage: the proud military jets soaring through the sky, defending the border. The helicopters ferrying military officials into or out of danger. The bombers speeding off toward the enemy lands …
Gideon flew a bomber in the war, Tessa remembered.
Could this be a bomber they were flying in now? Was he headed off on some secret military mission?
Tessa remembered the flat way Gideon had said, I killed one thousand six hundred and thirty-two people. Do you still think I’m a hero? She remembered the devastated look in his eyes. She couldn’t imagine him dropping any more bombs.
Then where were they going? What was he doing?
Tessa couldn’t think of any possible answers to either of those questions. It was too hard to think with all the weird forces of flight tugging at her: the floor rising beneath her, lifting her higher and higher, even as gravity seemed to be trying harder and harder to pull her back down. Then everything tilted, and she slid backward. She grabbed for something to hold on to, but there was nothing within her grasp except the blanket, which was sliding too.
“Oh, yeah!” Gideon cried from the front of the plane. “I know how to fly!”
Nobody answered him. Did that mean that the other man was still down below, back on the ground?
The blanket had slipped off Tessa’s head, so she dared to look up. As far as Tessa could tell, Gideon was sitting in front of a dimly lit instrument panel. She couldn’t see anyone in the copilot’s seat beside him, but from this angle only a very tall, very large man would be visible.
She had to know if Gideon was alone or not.
Using the column and the wall as a support, Tessa clawed her way up to a standing position. She swayed unsteadily with the jerking and tilting of the plane.
“Turbulence?” Gideon muttered. “Or—are there still some external controls I need to override? What’s hidden in the coding?”
He began frantically pressing buttons and pulling on controls. A computer screen glowed to life above the instrument panel, providing more light. But Gideon was flashing through various commands so quickly that the light was there and gone one instant to the next.
Tessa glimpsed a shape in the copilot’s seat, but it was too small to be a person. Was it a backpack, maybe? A duffel bag? She rose on her tiptoes, wanting to be sure—
And the plane lurched to the side, slamming Tessa against a window.
“Oh, no! You are not in control anymore!” Gideon screamed from the pilot’s seat. “This is my plane now!”
Tessa decided this probably wasn’t the best time to spring forward and announce, Guess what? I’m coming with you! She found a strap to hang on to beneath the window, and clung to it for dear life. She realized she’d had her eyes squeezed shut ever since the plane had tilted sideways. But the jerking movement seemed to have stopped for the moment, so Tessa dared to open her eyes again.
The entire city lay beneath her.
And for now, for once, it was beautiful. The darkness hid all the dirt and despair and desperation. Under the night sky the city’s lights stood out like gleaming jewels. The streetlights were lined up like beads on a necklace; glowing windows crowned the skyline. Tessa stared in amazement, her awe too great for her even to gasp. And then, as the city receded, the lights blurred into one another, all the patterns growing clear. It was a broken pa
ttern, the string of streetlights missing entirely in one section of the city.
It was the same section where the bottom of every building stood in darkness.
Is that where Gideon and the follower and I were walking? she wondered. Is it possible the lights went out only in that one area? Why? Was it on purpose? Who did that?
These were more questions Tessa couldn’t answer.
At the front of the plane Gideon was screaming even louder.
“No! No! Override!”
The plane dipped and swooped wildly, the window under Tessa’s cheek spinning to show her the sky, the city, the sky, the city, each view little more than a flash before it vanished. And then the plane lurched, and the hand strap Tessa was holding on to was jerked from her grasp. She plunged backward, falling, falling, falling …
She landed, hitting hard. Her head struck the corner of something—a handle? A partially open door?
And then everything went black.
CHAPTER
12
Tessa woke to light.
She was bathed in it, swimming in it—it was the most glorious light she’d ever seen. Even with her eyes still closed, she could feel it teasing against her eyelids: Wake up! Rise up! It’s such a bright world out here!
Tessa opened her eyes.
For a moment she was too sun-dazzled to actually see anything. But then her eyes focused on something in the light: Gideon.
He had his white uniform on again, and Tessa tried groggily to remember if he might have been wearing that last night and she just hadn’t noticed. But he was bent over the copilot’s seat, as if tidying up, and Tessa figured out what must have happened.
He was wearing other clothes last night. He had the uniform in his duffel bag or backpack or whatever he carried onto the plane. He changed while I was … sleeping.
Tessa was still trying to put together everything that had happened the night before: the darkness, the follower, Gideon’s conversation with the oily-voiced man, the crazily swooping plane. It was still too hard to make sense of, too hard to reconcile the darkness and the screaming of the night before with this glowing vision before her eyes now: Gideon in his uniform.