Chapter 37
The simulation room is a massive underground cube carved from the earth with high ceilings and walls lined with some kind of rubberized substance covered with projected grids. It’s at least three stories tall and several hundred yards wide.
Dr. Eze informs us that the walls and floor are intended to absorb electricity and help minimize damage to our internal organs if we’re hit.
Reassuring for everyone else, I guess.
They’ve re-created a miniature city with twenty-foot-tall buildings, along with walls and tunnels that can serve as hiding places and obstacles.
Along one side is a metal platform lined with a bunch of screens and dials accessible by a set of metal stairs, all set behind a plane of protective glass.
“This exercise will last for about ten minutes,” Dr. Eze says through a microphone from the elevated perch with Henry at her side.
Lieutenant Dire stands next to him with his hands behind his back.
“Today, it will be just us, but as we continue training, we’ll be joined by higher-ranking Tempestade officials.
They’ll want to assess your abilities and decide which battalions you’ll join once you graduate. ”
She adjusts some knobs on the panels lining the platform, her expression bright with excitement. “I’m very eager to see how this will play out.”
We’re divided into two teams, and the objective is for everyone on our side to tap the far wall while our opponents attempt to stop us. Simple enough, but the task will be made more difficult by the addition of random Spark attacks.
“If you’re struck, you’re encouraged to continue as long as you’re able,” Henry says, also speaking into the microphone.
“After all, when you’re out in the field, stopping isn’t an option.
If you’re unable to move, lie flat on the floor and wait for the simulation to end.
The rubber will protect you from the electricity as long as you remain still.
Of course, that means your team loses that point. Everything clear?”
We all nod. I bounce on my injured knee, testing the weight. It twinges a little, but I bandaged it up like Dr. Perez showed me, and it’s helping a lot.
Dr. Eze smiles down at us, her dark eyes shining with excitement. “All ready?”
She doesn’t wait for us to answer as she adjusts a few knobs.
A disembodied voice starts counting down from ten overhead as we all assemble at the starting line. I’m on a team with Domino, Journey, and a few other people I know. Those I don’t are easily identifiable by the purple bands we all wear around our biceps.
Rook ended up on the other team, wearing the same bands in green.
The simulation spans the size of several city blocks, and the far wall recedes into darkness, where a large digital scoreboard hangs.
The numbers continue counting down. 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .
A horn blares, signaling the start of the game, and everyone spins into action.
It’s slow at first, with everyone taking a moment to assess the corners and angles, the blind spots, the potential paths through the maze.
A deep rumbling overhead precedes the start of the first few purple flickers dancing across the ceiling.
I watch several gather into a bright knot just as the first bolt of Spark forms and strikes the center of the room, erupting into a plasma arc before winking out. We’re all still safely deep in our ends, so it feels more like a warning strike than anything sinister.
That’s when I notice someone running.
Domino is taking advantage of everyone’s surprise as she pumps her arms and legs, covering a stretch of open area with her head down.
“There!” someone from the green team shouts, but she’s already disappeared into a large pipe by the time they realize what’s happened.
I cheer quietly for her as I look for an opening of my own.
With the green team distracted by Domino’s escape, I make a break for it, weaving through a maze of tall towers.
The rubber mats absorb the sound of my footsteps somewhat but not entirely.
“This way!” another person shouts. “Get her!”
I swerve as I catch sight of someone between two buildings off to my right.
I duck and slide into a rubberized “concrete” tunnel wide enough to barely shimmy my way through.
Quickly, I drag myself to the far end to emerge at the edge of a plaza.
Checking to ensure the coast is clear, I sprint across and hide behind another building.
A second burst of Spark splits from the ceiling, and I brace myself. It strikes somewhere off to my right, and someone screams as two more successive bolts strike through the simulation.
One hits to the left, and another hits the building across from me.
I barely have time to register the blast before an explosion sends chunks of the buildings flying. I cover my head with my arms and start running. It isn’t real—the buildings are made of the same rubberized material, but they look heavy enough to knock someone down.
Something sharp slams into my back, and I go stumbling, barely catching myself before I face-plant on the floor. Instead, I crash into the side of a building, breathing heavily as sweat gathers at my nape.
The scoreboard at the far end blares, and I cheer inwardly as my team wins a point. Someone made it. I attempt to gauge how far I’ve come and estimate I’m about a third of the way down the field. How did someone reach the end so fast? I hope it was Domino.
After three deep breaths, I forge ahead, snaking past buildings and other obstacles, keeping my eyes and ears peeled for movement.
It grows quiet as people pause to lie in wait.
More rumbles shake underfoot, and another few blasts shatter the silence.
Nothing hits close to where I stand, so I take a calculated risk and run.
I leap over some rubble, checking behind me until I round a corner and stop. Three people from the green team wait for me at the end of a plaza, hunched and ready.
I quickly assess my potential exits. I can’t run past them—they’ll catch me for sure. An alley opens to my left, and to my right is a dead end.
“We’re coming for you,” snarls a giant guy with a thick neck and dinner--plate hands. He approaches with two more Fiama members, and I hang a left for the alley.
But they aren’t naive. They take off through another exit leading from the plaza, and it quickly becomes obvious they’re trying to herd me into another dead end.
I veer left, doubling back the way I came, passing through a ruined section of the simulation and spotting a body lying face down on the floor. I wince and almost stop to check on them, but a team of medics is already approaching.
So I continue running, twisting left and right, attempting to lose myself inside a tight maze of buildings.
“You’re surrounded!” the big guy chasing me shouts. “Come out, little girl!”
I spin around and around, trying to figure out where each person is standing. I have several exit options, but if I choose wrong, it’ll lead me straight into their arms. As I shuffle to my left, I glimpse the profile of one of my hunters through a narrow opening.
Loping away in the opposite direction, I keep close to the buildings, staying as light on my feet as possible. Good thing I have a lot of practice moving silently through our apartment at home, lest I incur my father’s temper.
I spot another person through a different crack and conclude that they’re spread evenly apart. So I hedge my bets and pick a path just to the right of whoever I last saw. When I think the coast is clear, I run. I pass another building, and someone jumps out at me.
Damn, it’s the same huge guy. I swerve as he reaches out, his fingertips barely brushing my arm. He’s big, yes, but that makes him kind of slow, and that’s my advantage.
I keep running as all three green team members begin to chase me, hot on my heels.
“Get back here!” someone shouts.
Why do people say that? Does he think I’ll just stop and let him have me?
I keep my head down, dodging around the fallen rocks and debris. I turn into another open area and curse. I need cover. I barrel across, but the guy is right behind me, and I can sense him closing the distance.
I barely register the rumble before it strikes. A bolt drops from the ceiling just as I cross the plaza, and it hits me. I know it immediately. My body seizes as the plasma arc swallows me in its boundary, a bright sizzle of pain ricocheting down my limbs.
I gasp and stumble when suddenly, someone grabs me and shoves me into a dark corner. I don’t have the presence of mind to scream, but a moment later, I realize it’s Rook.
“Put them out,” he’s saying as he smacks my arms and legs.
“What are you—” I protest, but he’s too busy dousing my sparks.
My next words die in my throat as he continues frantically tapping my head, my stomach, and even my cheeks.
He knows.
He knows.
When he’s finished, he stops and presses a hand to the wall behind me, his shoulders heaving with his breaths.
His gaze slowly meets mine as I gape open-mouthed.
A tiny spark of purple winks in his hair, and I reach up to pinch it as his eyes track my movements.
He knows.
And he’s immune to Spark, too.
Several things coalesce in my thoughts. That shadow I saw the night I escaped the city. The way Rook found me on the train right after. A part of me was sure it was him.
My heart is racing in my chest as a hundred different emotions hit me at once.
We both regard each other with a sort of reserved, guarded awe.
I become increasingly aware of the tightness of the space and how close he is to me. His thighs press against my hips, and his chest brushes mine. Each point of contact becomes a live wire, bright and hot and dangerous.
He’s still breathing heavily as he leans in, his expression full of curiosity and a high degree of assessment. “Be more careful,” he growls. He’s so close, I feel the ghost of his breath against my lips.
My chin tips up, and suddenly, our mouths hover an inch apart. Just like the night he rescued me on the train, I get the strangest thought that he’s planning to kiss me, but I don’t move, afraid of looking like a fool again.
It’s madness that I desperately want it.
A buzzer dings at the far end, reminding me that the game is still on.
We both pause. Did anyone see what just happened?
They haven’t stopped us, so maybe the moment went unnoticed.
With my hands pressed to his chest, I shove him back. It takes him by surprise, and he stumbles. Something I sense is hard for anyone to do to him.
We exchange another look heavy with a thousand things neither of us can say. Not here, surrounded by our teammates. By Henry and Dr. Eze. By that monster clad in the color of dried blood, holding a stunner, looking for any excuse to kill us on the spot. Or worse.
So I take off, weaving through the wreckage of the arena.
Someone shouts off in the distance, spotting me, but my feet grow wings as I glide over the debris in my path.
He knows.
I think of the Spark winking in his hair like a signal far in the distance.
He knows, and he’s like me.
I’m not alone.
He’s a monster, too.
I slam into the far wall, scoring a point for my team just as the end-game buzzer sounds.
Breathing heavily, I scan the arena, looking for Rook.
What happens now?
I don’t think he can turn me in to the Extinguishers because it would draw too much attention to himself.
He’s a Solitude and a Keeper—he’d be dead before the sun rose tomorrow.
My gaze slides to Lieutenant Dire standing on the platform overlooking the arena. His gaze isn’t on me, and I let out a long, shaky breath. I think we got away with it.
Rook emerges from between two buildings and saunters closer, his eyes narrowing as he scans me from head to toe. It’s another assessing look, like he’s trying to peel me apart to study the clockwork of my bones.
But there’s also something like relief visible in the set of his shoulders.
I think.
All I know is that suddenly, everything has changed.