CHAPTER 55 #3
Charlotte and I run with the students at first, shoulder to shoulder, two more pairs of lungs in the stampede. Then my boot knocks against the body of a Green, trampled and bloody, his fingers clawing for a helping hand.
I push on, abandoning him, until I remember my promise, sworn to myself only days ago: Live for something, not just survive.
Grinding my teeth, I charge back into the chaos and grab the man by the arms, feeling engineered strength power through my muscles as I drag him clear of the stampede. I roll him into a hoverboat, then double back for more.
“Lore!” Charlotte shouts.
She points to an empty hoverboat drifting free, but I shake my head.
She hesitates, going stiff with fear, then curses under her breath and runs toward me.
Together, we lift a girl pinned against the railing, who looks too disoriented to remember where she is.
We haul her up and push her into a hoverboat before it lifts off.
Behind us, the second Ranger jet roars overhead, its guns lighting up the platform.
Sparks rain down as marble shatters beneath the students’ feet, sending them tumbling into the lake below.
I catch a glimpse of our AI patrol jets regrouping, bracketing the last Ranger jet like a trap snapping shut.
They strike the Ranger mid-turn, three clean plasma beams slicing through the fuselage.
The jet slews sideways, flips, and crashes tail-first into the Luminescent Lake.
Water erupts into a white pillar of steam and fire, engulfing the wreck halfway.
For a moment, the sky falls silent except for the cries of students crawling across the Sailing Strip toward the hoverboats. I turn to see more students helping one another amid the wreckage. Blues and Greens alike pull each other to their feet, steady the stumbling, and carry the wounded.
Near the piste, William is holding Vincent’s lifeless body, dragging him through smoking debris, his sobs tearing me apart from within.
“Charlotte—” I gasp.
Together, we run and grip Vincent by the shoulders.
William clings so tightly to his brother that we have to pry his hands away to lift the body and carry it to a hoverboat.
William scrambles in after Vincent, curling over what’s left of his brother like a child.
Charlotte jumps in beside William and pulls him close.
I plant one boot on the gunwale, ready to climb in, when a familiar voice cuts across the piste.
Through the crowd of students fleeing the platform, I see Edmund.
He vaults the piste railing, eyes wild and desperate, scanning every face as if he’s drowning.
He cuts toward Jack, who’s holding an injured student in his arms, her sobs shaking them both until Jack’s knuckles turn white from trying not to drop her.
“Loredana!” Edmund grabs Jack’s sleeve and shakes him. “Where’s Loredana?”
I leap into the hoverboat and look toward Edmund, uncertain of what I’m seeing.
I don’t understand the fear on his face, the panic ripping through him as he tears the night apart searching for me.
And right now, I don’t have time to understand.
I sink low in the hoverboat as it lifts off the Sailing Strip and glides across the lake.
Through a cloud of burning embers, I watch Edmund lift a massive slab of marble off three students and hurl it into the lake.
He drops into a crouch, turning their limp bodies over with shaking hands, as if he expects one of them to be me.
Jack eases the injured girl into a hoverboat, then grabs Edmund and drags him away from the wreckage. They both leap aboard before the hoverboat lifts off, chasing the other evacuating vessels as it speeds toward the far shore.
The Sailing Strip recedes behind us. Smoke drifts over the water like a funeral shroud cast over the dead. My thoughts shrink, too small to hold the chaos of blood and bodies unfolding before my eyes.
Closer to shore, the emergency response rises to meet us.
Helicopters roar overhead, their rotor blades shearing through the smoke, while armored hovercars speed over the waterfront walkways, their lights flashing red and yellow.
More AI patrol jets circle the sky in tight loops, ready to shoot down any other Rangers that might slip through the breach before it’s sealed.
When our hoverboat bumps against the dock, the Coppers are already waiting, weapons drawn, radios crackling, waving us through lines as if we’re livestock.
A few Coppers in protective suits wade waist-deep into the lake, hauling students from the water; some are responsive, while others show no sign of life.
More Coppers double-back toward the Sailing Strip, with teams of Pinkie medics, stretchers unfolded and ready.
The Coppers herd us to shore in organized lines, where more Pinkies work, setting up medical stations near the Fraternity Houses.
The Pinkies take Vincent first, though William clings so frantically to his brother that the robots are forced to restrain him.
William reaches for Vincent one last time as his body is carted away, sobbing so hard that my knees buckle and I sink into the sand.
I scan the dock around me, and for a moment I don’t register what I see, as if there’s a delay between my vision and my thoughts.
Harrison sits slumped beside a Pinkie medic, Vincent’s fraternity cap clenched in one fist, his other arm bleeding through his jacket.
His red-rimmed, hollow eyes seem to stare at nothing.
Then I look back over the water, past the pitted, charred remains of the Sailing Strip, toward the Ranger jet. Most of the wreckage now lies beneath the Luminescent Lake, but one wing breaks the surface, black and slashed with red.
From their hoverboats, a Copper squad rushes to encircle the Ranger jet with containment barriers to prevent us from filming.
Charlotte lowers herself onto the sand beside me, her trembling hands stained with ash and Vincent’s blood. She says something, but I don’t catch it.
I kneel there, staring at that Ranger wing jutting through the smoke, pointing skyward like a flag driven deep into the flesh of the earth—staking its claim over me, over us, over our Civilized World.