20. CRACK
Lawson—
A jagged scar runs down the center of the street. Blacktop crumbles into the gap, mixing with dust and a few green sprouts. I march along the crack, planting each foot just so. Heel-toe-heel.
In direct line of my next step a dandelion fights up through the road. It doesn’t grow in the crack, doesn’t take the easy way. Instead it struggles free just to the left, refusing to admit it’s not safe to grow up here. Blacktop buckles around it.
I divert my foot.
It’s a mistake, out of line with who I’m supposed to be. The rubber sole of my boot crashes down beside the flower, shearing a few leaves from the stem, crushing them to green mush against the concrete.
In memory, I keep rounding the corner to see Aidan chained to the front of The Dance. That first stinging wash of alarm rushes repeatedly through my body, like falling headfirst through ice over and over again. I can’t stop reliving that moment of being stuck with no good options.
Do I rush to dismantle the bomb? Explain to the guards that I hid it? Help the Captain drag Aidan away before the wrecking ball hits?
Or do I let the bomb go off, watch the shards of the truck explode all over the Bees, risk killing Aidan?
I just stood there, torn, and never looked up. What kind of fool sets a bomb and doesn’t look to see how the wreckage will fall?
In all my time in D-town, I’ve never messed up like this. I’m the careful one. I keep my earbuds in the bottom of my sleeping bag, for goodness sake; I don’t use them. I make sure I’m always at my best. How could I not look up?
It could have been Aidan.
I don’t even have the luxury to stumble at the thought. I must keep my spine firm, in case anyone’s watching. I kick at the broken concrete, though. My big toe, bare through a hole in my sock, knocks against the inside of my boot. With the speakers off and putty in my ears, the impact reverberates in my skull. I take off running.
I don’t know where I’m going until I dash into the empty Arena, all the way to the middle of the overgrown field. Here, among the weeds, is where murderers get put to death in D-town. An artificial hush fills my head, like the world has been wrapped in cotton. I’ve always prided myself on taking responsibility for the weapons I brought in, but apparently I’ve been lying to myself.
I’ve been playacting for so long all I have are imaginary selves. The person I used to be. The role I play. And the real me—the one who does whatever I must to survive, to fit in, to earn the respect of my peers.
All for the greater good, right?
But there are only two people whose good opinions matter to me, and now it’s clear; I can have the approval of one or the other, but not both.
Pressure builds behind my eyes, and my ribs ache. The empty seats watch me like silent judges, as if they know about last night. There are some truths even Aidan can’t forgive.
Last night, I sprinted up the fire escape of the deserted office building in the pitch dark. Eight flights of stairs in under a minute because I was running late. I burst into the corridor like I’d narrowly escaped being buried alive. Sweat tickled into my ears.
Emergency lighting flickered along the floor, just enough to confirm the hall was empty. I pushed open the door to the meeting room and halted, sucking in a breath. The familiar figure, outlined by lantern glow in front of the window, did not belong to Sergeant Hansen, my usual handler. I planted my feet hip width to keep from rushing around the desk.
“What are you doing here?” I asked carefully.
She didn’t turn, just continued staring out the window with her hands folded behind her back. It was “at ease” posture, but she didn’t look relaxed. Her biceps, almost as thick as mine, were knotted under the black knit top. A bulletproof vest lent extra bulk.
“You missed your last three check-ins, soldier,” she said in a gruff voice.
“You tried to pull me out without my consent!” With an effort, I moderated my tone and added, “Captain.”
She whipped around. “You were bleeding all over an intersection!” She was breathing like she just ran twenty laps at the training center.
So was I.
“Lawson—”
“I’m sorry,” I blurted because I couldn’t tell the truth—that I skipped check-ins because I wanted to protect her from the bruises all over me. I didn’t want her to feel the clawing powerlessness that came whenever I looked at Aidan. I didn’t want her to feel like a failure.
And I couldn’t let her pull me out of D-town, couldn’t lose Aidan any more than I already had.
I looked down at my scuffed boots. “Things have been…tense. No one wants to leave while you’re guarding the Boundary. If I’d snuck out too soon, people would have been suspicious, especially after the way you treated me in the square.”
Her eyebrow quirked. “You came tonight.”
I rolled my shoulders. “I figured I’d put it off as long as I could. I’ll need some supplies as a cover.”
She nodded like that was expected and then advanced on me. Her eyes narrowed as she skirted the desk. “You never did tell me what happened. Everything was going so well, and then—” She gestured. Her voice dropped. “It’s because of that skinny Bee, isn’t it? What did you do?”
“Um…I may have broken the Second Consensus.”
“Lawson!”
“The A—”
“We’ve talked about this before. That’s why you’re in there, so we can bring them all home and the weak ones will be safe, but in the meantime you can’t interfere. You know that. You have to fit in. They need to trust you now, so they’ll follow where you lead when—”
“I know, I know, I know.” I scrubbed my hands through my hair. She could never find out Aidan had seen the spies. I could never tell her my biggest regret was that I had a chance to tell Aidan the truth, and I didn’t take it. “I just thought it would be good if I appeared to have a lover. And Bees are celibate, so I wouldn’t have to, you know, and I can’t just let my lover get beaten down.”
Please, please, buy it.
She seemed to. She stepped close and squeezed up and down my arms, checking for broken bones. I gritted my teeth when she hit a particularly tender spot, but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as talking about Aidan.
“What about that girl, Lin?” she asked abruptly.
“What?” I sputtered. “We’re friends.” And she’s not my type. “I told you that before. Besides, going with a Bee challenges tribal boundaries. It’ll help with the integration.”
She gave my shoulder one last squeeze. “Just hang in there. It’s almost time. Are you ready?”
I forced myself to meet her eyes. Not like a psychopath. Blink normally.
“Honestly, I don’t think the time is quite right. My reputation isn’t the best just now. I didn’t know you were going to move in so soon. I could use a little more time. I don’t think people will listen to me, quite as well as they could. I—I promised to bring in some weapons a while ago, and it didn’t go quite the way I planned.” I was rambling. She surely knew all this. I’d told Hansen most of it at our last check-in.
“Don’t worry,” she said, waving away my concerns. “I have the perfect solution for your reputation, and mine. I’m in a bit of a bind, because I put up that DEMOLITION sign, and now the leaders decided we can’t waste the resources.” She grimaced. “They say refurbish the building, don’t knock it down. My guards are bringing in a wrecking ball as we speak, but I no longer have authorization to use it. I’ll need you to blow it up tomorrow. You’ll be a hero again, and everyone will know I always follow through on my threats. I’ll give you a bomb and leave the crane unguarded.”
I didn’t need to use that bomb, though. By the time I got back, a mixed group of Real Dealers and A were already installing one of the A’s nail bombs.
I convinced them to wait until the next day. “That way we can knock down some guards too.”
Kitty was the one who placed the explosive deep into the
guts of the machine, getting engine grease on her white t-shirt, but I set the timer. I set that timer and felt nothing but relief.
I’m no hero.
Why can’t I be the person who showed up in Aidan’s eyes when Aidan looked at me with love? A protector of the weak. The guy who, even if he doesn’t believe the same things as Aidan, is still worthy of that one’s love.
Of course, no one is worthy of Aidan’s love. Love like that can’t be earned, only given.