18 #2
“They’d want to believe it,” she says. “They’re looking for ways to control me.
” She exhales a quick huff. “I promised I would train you, but what I’m going to show you poses an even greater threat than Marks or Orsen could ever imagine.
It is my deepest secret, but I’m planning to share it with you. ”
Rook and I exchange a confused look.
“Okay, go ahead,” he says.
“Not now. We need a storm,” she says. “But I will. As soon as possible.”
“And we should trust that?”
“Give me a chance to prove it to you. Otherwise, you can leave. I won’t stop you.”
Her expression is earnest, and her words ring with truth. But isn’t that how I felt about Rook when we were still in New Manhattan? She has just as many good reasons to lie as he did. I’m not sure if Rook is picking up on something, but his hesitation is also giving me pause.
I watch as he trades a look with his dad, who offers him a slight nod. I’m sure they’re both thinking about Navy and Beckett and what finding the cure could offer them all. It’s a risk Rook is willing to take. We both are.
“Fine,” he says before turning to me. “You’re sure?”
“As sure as I can be.”
“Then let’s go.”
We enter the plane, and it whirs to life, engines spinning, as Rook takes my hand. Then we start moving, barreling down an open stretch of plain before the aircraft gently lifts into the sky. I’m holding my breath as we ascend, my stomach falling through my feet.
We crest toward the clouds, and then I’m watching the world below us.
Forest and trees. Even a station camp far in the distance.
Rivers meander across the landscape, and beyond them, more flatness, more wastes.
I imagine the Neo-Cities far in the distance, wondering how long it would take to reach one if we headed north or south.
I forget to be scared and am blown away instead.
I’m not sure how long we’re flying before the engines change in pitch and we begin our descent.
The sensation is so strange, like I’m a soap bubble floating with no direction.
The plane coasts along the earth, and then there’s a gentle bump as the wheels touch down.
After a moment, it comes to a stop, and we all file out before piling into a couple of trucks.
Before long, New Manhattan’s skyline becomes a barely visible dot in the distance.
Our truck stops, and the general turns around from where she’s sitting in the front seat. “This is where we part ways,” she says. She pulls out her phone—larger, thicker, and more heavy-duty than the one I carry. She holds it up and shows us the screen. It’s a map.
“This is where you’ll find a tunnel entrance into the city,” she says, pointing to a spot not far from here.
“It’s about a thirty-minute walk due north.
You can rest there for the night, and then it will take you a few hours to follow the tunnel into the city.
The exit is near one of the busy market squares, and there you’ll get yourself arrested by the Extinguishers. ”
While we were flying, she laid out our plan.
Allow myself to be taken in. I’ll stand trial. She’ll help clear my name.
It seems pretty dangerous, but she assures us this will work.
“Won’t the Extinguishers think it’s a bit obvious that we’ve walked straight into the middle of a crowd?” Rook asks, and the general shrugs.
“They’ll just be happy to boast about capturing you.”
“Will Rook get arrested, too? They don’t suspect him, do they?” I ask.
The general shakes her head. “The Robins girl only identified you, and they believe he is just a Solitude. A little bit wild but mostly harmless. They may decide to take you in, though. If that happens, I will get you out, too.”
Rook and I share a wary look. We agreed to return and help the general, and now it seems we have no choice but to follow through, no matter how reckless it might seem.
“We’ll leave you with some food and water,” Sol says, as if that’s supposed to make this all better.
After a few more assurances from the general, Rook and I find ourselves standing alone in the Wastes.
Or . . . I guess I should start calling it by its proper name, the Tiera Frais.
It’s so quiet.
Clouds tumble overhead, the wind kicking up dust.
“I guess we should get going,” Rook says, holding out his hand.
I slip my fingers into his, and then we make our way toward the tunnel entrance.
“Why are there so many tunnels out here?” I ask.
“Old subway lines,” Rook answers. “There used to be hundreds of them back in the Warming Age, when all of this was inhabited. Many collapsed or caved in, but some remain functional. I don’t know how stable they are, though.”
We fall into silence as we continue our trek.
As promised, we find a tunnel entrance and try to get a few hours of sleep on the cold, hard ground. In the morning, we make the quiet journey toward the heart of the city.
Eventually, we encounter our first ladder leading to the surface.
“I guess this is it?” I ask, peering up at the steel cover.
We both slide off our packs and leave them piled together for Rook to retrieve once we’ve completed our task.
He grasps the rungs and shimmies up before shoving off the grate and disappearing through the hole, and then I follow. We emerge into a quiet alley concealed by shadows with a dead end to our right and a bustling plaza to our left.
It’s Saturday afternoon, and the market is in full swing. The clouds are gathering, but we have at least an hour or two before everyone needs to run for cover.
I inhale a sharp breath and blow it out slowly, expelling the weighted burden of what we’re about to do. I’m going to purposely get myself caught by the Extinguishers. Something I’ve feared every day since I was a child.
“When they spot you, run,” Rook says. I give him a quizzical look. “More believable that way.”
“Right,” I say, tugging on the hem of my jacket and squaring my shoulders. “I’m scared.”
“I know,” he says. “I am, too.”
“This is totally unhinged, right?”
Rook maneuvers me against the wall, caging my body with his. Then he leans down to kiss me, fusing our lips together with so much bright hope, it steals my breath.
“What was that for?” I ask after he pulls away.
“A reminder of what’s waiting for us at the end,” he says. “If we survive and find the cure, I’d like the chance to see what it would be like. You and me. Together. Just . . . living?”
I nod. “I’d like that.”
He offers me a tipped smile. “Before we go out there, I want you to know that I’ve fallen in love with you, Poet Graves.
” I have no idea how to respond, but he saves me from having to figure it out by pressing a finger to my lips.
“You don’t need to say anything yet. I just wanted you to know.
This isn’t anything I ever expected, but here you are.
Brave. Kind. Strong. And just so fucking remarkable. ”
Then he leans in and kisses me again. My arms loop around his neck, and he presses against me. We kiss until I can barely breathe, and then he pulls back, tapping his forehead to mine. “When we survive whatever comes next, maybe you’ll tell me you feel the same.”
Then he takes my hand and drags me toward the end of the alley.
A brief pause as we check in with each other, and then . . . we step into the light.