64
Everything goes silent. Without the ambient noise of the droning generators, it’s so quiet that my ears hurt. Everything feels muffled, like we’ve been draped in thick wool blankets. I shake my head, holding my hand in front of my face, but I can’t make out a single thing.
A click, and a pool of light expands around us. I blink, adjusting to the sudden change. Henry is holding a flashlight, and a moment later, Navy and Justin power theirs on, too.
Rook tugs me against him, kissing the top of my head. “Are you okay?” he asks softly.
He’s still soaking wet, and I can feel him shivering. I rub my hands up his arms, which are covered in gooseflesh, trying to warm him up. “Am I okay? Are you?”
“I’m fine, Trouble. Super weirded out, though.”
I huff out a laugh.
“We should get out of here,” Henry says. “The others will find their way back.”
I strain to listen for the sounds of fighting in the distance, but I hear nothing. They must’ve also been thrown into shock when the lights went out.
Except that isn’t completely true, because I do hear something.
“What is that?” I ask before everyone pauses, also straining to listen.
“Water?” Rook asks.
“The pumps,” my father says. “They’ve switched off.”
“Pumps?” Calliope asks.
“The city maintains a network of industrial pumps that keeps the water surrounding us from flooding the underground.”
“Oh, shit,” Fisher says. “You mean . . .”
“This will all be underwater soon,” my father says, just as I notice a puddle seeping across the floor.
Henry glances back the way we came. We need to warn the others, but we can’t risk going back down. Hopefully, they’re already headed up.
“Let’s go,” Fisher says. “This is about to become a tomb.”
At first, no one moves, but then slowly, Henry nods. “Very well.”
The water is already rising, coming up past my ankles, flooding my boots. We splash down the tunnels as the level keeps climbing. I think of that room and all those Keepers. Raine and everyone else who gave their lives for New Manhattan.
Soon, this will all be underwater. This isn’t the ending I wanted for my brother. It isn’t the ending I wanted for anyone.
We circle higher, staying ahead of the flood, the water receding behind us. I wonder how high it will go. Will we lose everything below the surface? More than that?
Thankfully, the train platform is now devoid of people. They must’ve headed to the surface when the power went out, seeking light. At least we don’t have to worry about them drowning in the tunnels. I can’t handle any more death.
When we emerge from the train station, emerald clouds swirl in the sky while a light drizzle continues to fall.
I spot the first hints of amethyst streaking over the horizon, and I wonder if an Empire Storm is also brewing.
Sometimes they can occur together, though it’s rare.
Seems fitting that it might happen on a night like this.
Despite the numerous people crowding the streets, it’s so quiet.
Like everyone is terrified of shattering the careful balance of the very atmosphere.
I peer up at the darkened buildings. The windows are like a thousand blank eyes watching us. A shiver rolls down my spine, and not from the cold.
The streetlamps sit like dead soldiers, lining the walkways.
I’ve never seen New Manhattan like this.
Like its very heart has been scooped out, leaving only an empty husk.
Maybe I understand why they did it.
Maybe I understand why they were trying so hard to protect this.
Raine’s sleeping face flashes in my thoughts, and my stomach heaves.
It doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t excuse what they’ve done. I imagine the Keepers in those watery graves, all dying one last time.
I don’t have words for it. There is no sentiment adequate enough to express what we saw in that room.
It feels like I’ll spend the rest of my life trying and failing to wrap my head around what was done to those people.
We need to find a way to honor them. Give them the dignified deaths they were robbed of.
They gave up their lives without being asked, all so the rest of us could live.
In the distance, I hear the clash between the Veil and New Manhattan. They probably haven’t noticed the power outage beyond the rock wall yet.
Rook walks beside me, his gait still unsteady, his cold hand clamped around mine.
He’s still weak, but he clearly doesn’t want anyone to notice.
Navy and Justin walk on his other side as they catch him up on everything he missed, including the death of their brother.
I sense their pain as they fall into silence.
I hope they will get the chance to grieve properly soon.
My father walks behind me, his presence like a shadow I can’t escape.
I don’t know what to say to him anymore. I don’t know why he’s still here. What does he want?
Finally, we arrive back at the Fog’s headquarters.
We head upstairs to find Edward and Ada at the computers, where they’ve hooked up a generator. She’s leaning over him while he types away, and they speak in low, hushed voices.
They both turn around as we enter. Edward pushes up from his chair, crosses the room, and throws his arms around Rook. “So glad to see you, man,” he says.
“Where are the others?” Ada asks.
“Somewhere behind us,” Henry replies. “When the power went down, we were separated.”
“Tell me what happened?” she asks softly, probably sensing that we’re all dealing with a bunch of collective trauma that will haunt us for a very long time.
“It was horrible,” I say, shaking my head. “I can’t believe . . .” I look at her. “Did you have any idea?”
“None at all,” she says. “If I’d known . . .” She stops and turns back toward the computers. Though she’s trying to hide it, I notice her wiping away a tear. She created the Fog to help people like her partner, but she never truly understood what she was up against.
“What’s done is done,” she says with a sniff. “The important thing is that we are no longer in the dark, relatively speaking. You’ve stopped it.”
“For now,” I say. “What’s to say they won’t find us, kill us, and do it all over again?”
“Nothing,” she says, offering me a firm look. “Nothing at all. But we keep trying. We never stop.” Her head drops, and I notice her whispering to herself before she inhales deeply and turns around. “Where is the data drive?”
Justin holds up the tiny rectangle. It seems impossible that so much power could be contained in something so physically insignificant. “How do we know it worked?” he asks.
Edward reaches for it. “I’ll know in a minute.”
Justin hesitates. I can tell a part of him doesn’t want to give it up. The city still represents everything they’ve worked against for so many years.
New Manhattan held this knowledge at their fingertips, and they abused it.
Justin exchanges a glance with Rook, who dips his chin. But Justin is exactly like his brother. He would never try to keep this to himself. As Justin hands the drive to Edward, I feel a collective release of tension around the room.
Trust still needs to be earned despite everything we did together tonight.
Maybe we need more time, or maybe some wounds are too deep to heal.
Rook turns to Ada. “After we take this information back to the Veil, we’ll use it to develop the antidote and share it with as many people as we can.”
“I understand,” she says.
“We won’t keep your secret,” he adds. “The Tiera Frais deserves to know what The Shield has been doing.”
“Tell whoever you want. It isn’t my secret,” Ada says, and Rook offers her a somber nod.
“This is still your home, and I cannot predict how everyone will react once they learn the truth.”
“What do you think they might do?” Henry asks.
Rook shrugs. “I can’t say for sure, but the code of the Tiera Frais would never tolerate such a blatant disregard for human life.”
“We understand,” Ada says. “We wouldn’t ask you to keep this to yourselves.”
“And what about New Manhattan?” I ask, holding up my phone. “They deserve to see everything. Once they learn the truth, this has to open their eyes.”
“Let me see that,” Edward says. I hand over my phone before he plugs in a cable and calls up the footage I filmed. I turn away, unable to stomach it again.
I hate that this is the last image I’ll ever see of Raine’s face.
“Poet,” Ada says. “I have an idea, and I need your help.”
“Yes?”
“I want to show everyone what you saw tonight, and I think it would be more powerful if it comes from someone who was there, who escaped New Manhattan and saw the truth with her own eyes. We don’t need them to just hear all this; we need them to believe it.”
“How?” I ask, nerves swirling in my stomach.
“Edward and I have been working on this for a while. We knew we’d need a way to share The Shield’s secrets on a mass scale. He’s tapped into the feed that accesses every screen in New Manhattan.”
“Can Edward do all that?” Rook asks. “Without any power?”
“It does throw a wrinkle into things,” Edward says, spinning around in his chair.
He has that light in his eyes. That same one I saw when he agreed to help me break into the Citadel months ago.
“We can’t hit every screen, but I can access people’s phones as long as they still have battery life, plus many of the public screens work on stored electricity as well. ”
“What do you want me to say?” I ask.
Ada clasps her hands around my shoulders.
“I want you to remind everyone that there is another way,” she says.
“That we don’t have to accept the path that’s been set for us.
The Fog isn’t the first group that has tried to make a difference over the years.
We’re just one in a long line of people who believed.
They were stopped. Beaten. Broken. But every smothered act of defiance was a tiny spark feeding a flame. Never dead . . . just dormant.”
A shiver rolls down my back as I absorb her words. The room is so quiet that I can hear fighting in the distance, even muffled through the windows.
I open my mouth and then close it. “Me? Really?”
“You wanted to help,” Ada says. “And you’ve already done so much, but this is what we’ve all been working toward. I want you to tell everyone what you saw in the Tiera Frais. I want you to tell them about what you saw tonight. I want you to tell them everything.”
Rook takes my hand and squeezes it. I look up at him, and he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to.
He simply watches me because he already knows my answer.
“Yes,” I say. “Of course I’ll do it.”
Ada’s smile is bright. “You’re a very brave young woman. I hope your parents are proud of you.”
I feel my father’s gaze on my back.
Is he proud of me? He thought I was weak. A burden.
Only useful to him as Knox’s wife. And now?
I realize it doesn’t matter anymore.
A former version of me wanted to make him proud, but I no longer need his approval.
“Maybe they are,” I say. “But I think it matters a lot more that I’m proud of myself.”
Ada leans in and offers me another warm smile. “Well, then I hope you’re very proud.”
I nod, my throat tight with emotion as Rook squeezes my hand again. Then he pulls me toward him, wrapping an arm around me. “For whatever it’s worth, I’m proud of you, too,” he whispers.
It’s worth everything.
Ada and Edward consult for a few seconds, and she picks up a camera sitting in the corner.
The same kind that the city’s news teams use, with a big lens and a tripod.
She sets it up in the middle of the room, pointing it toward a blank wall, then instructs everyone to clear out of the way.
I step in front of it, peering into the lens, and imagine I can see an entire universe reflected in its dark eye.
“You’re okay with me telling everyone about the Tiera Frais?” I ask Rook. “You want them to know it all?”
He nods. “It’s time they learned everything. If they still want to support New Manhattan and The Shield, then that’s up to them, but these people deserve to finally know the truth.”
I nod and inhale a deep breath.
“Ready?” Ada asks Edward.
“Almost,” he says, typing on his computer. “Everyone, turn down the volume on your phones. This is going up live.”
“Don’t be nervous,” Ada tells me. “You’ll do great.”
“You have about five minutes of juice,” Edward adds. “Before this generator runs out and my rig shuts down.”
He taps a few more things and pulls out the data drive before handing it back to Justin. “Keep it safe,” Edward says. “Put this information to better use than we did.”
Justin tucks it into a pocket. “I promise that we will.”
Then, everyone turns to look at me.
“Ready,” Edward says. “I’ll count you in.”
“Just speak from the heart,” Rook says, laying a hand on his chest.
I nod and lift my chin.
Straighten my shoulders.
Take a deep breath.
And then I begin.