The Pearl Wars (16 page)

28

Cassius squeezed into the one remaining seat at the tail end of the Chute, between an overweight man in a business suit and a teenaged girl with dark blue hair. As soon as he was settled, he buried his face in his hands, cursing silently.

The automated “welcome aboard” announcement came over the speakers but he tuned it out, smacking his fist against his forehead. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

The blue-haired girl noticed, raising the headphone on her earpiece. Her frenetic music formed a tinny symphony above his head. “You okay, man?”

He sat up, glaring at her. She backed off, flipping the headphone and turning her attention to the window.

He wasn’t okay. First he’d lost Fisher on the Skyship, then he’d lost him on the Surface. Worse yet, when Madame finally arrived in Portland expecting to find him, all she’d get was an empty prison cell and a bunch of beaten-up guards. Then Cassius would never have a chance of opening the black cube and discovering what was inside.

What’s more, Fisher seemed utterly clueless about what had actually happened back on the rooftop. Madame had seemed convinced that the guy was responsible for his combustion, but looking into Fisher’s eyes, listening to his panicked voice, Cassius wasn’t so sure anymore. Madame lied to others. Maybe she was lying to him now.

The windows filled with the sprawling darkness of the Fringes. The cabin lights flickered off for a brief moment as the temperature control kicked in. He felt a vibration in his pocket. His com-pad beeped.

He reached for it, glancing down at the front screen. Madame’s code flashed in tiny numbers, on and off in rhythm with the beeping.

Don’t let them transfer Fisher
, she’d said. He was pretty sure escaping on the Chute was worse than being transferred.

He hit the button on the side of the com-pad to silence it, staring at the numbers as they flashed noiselessly. If he didn’t answer, she’d know there was trouble. If he did, he’d have to explain the situation. Or lie. She’d see through a lie.

Before he had a chance to make up his mind, the numbers disappeared and the screen went dead. He took a deep breath, realizing what he’d just done. If she wanted to track him, it’d be easy enough to activate the microchip inside of the device. She’d probably already done so.

He wasn’t scared of her. He couldn’t be. She was like a mother to him.
Like
a mother, but not really.

No, she was a member of the Unified Party first and foremost. He’d seen a glimpse of it back on Atlas, a peek into the things she didn’t talk about … the choices the country had been forced to make after the bombings. He couldn’t deal with her right now—not while he still needed to capture Fisher. Let her call him when he had some good news. Talking would only complicate things—cause him to second-guess himself.

He couldn’t face her empty-handed.

He put the com-pad back in his pocket, forgetting it.

Two hours—two hours to think of something, some way to capture Fisher without getting the government involved.

He glanced over to the blue-haired girl, bobbing her head to the music, eyes shut. So unaware.

He loosened his collar, cursing himself once more before recli
ning in the seat and closing his eyes. Focusing.

29

The girl I’ve been in love with for almost three years is working for the enemy.

An hour into our journey, I pass the time by slowly unraveling a thread from a hole in the arm of my school suit. Then I start to play with the gauze around my shoulder. It itches. I decide to take it off and stuff it into my pocket. Underneath, my skin is as smooth as it ever was. Weird.

Whatever they did to us before chucking us into the cell certainly did the trick.

Avery’s slumped over, fast asleep with her head on my shoulder. Normally I’d be mass psyched about this little turn of events, but not now. Not with so much to think about.

She’s working for the enemy, the Unified Party—the group everyone’s warned me about since I was a kid.

She’s clever, that’s for sure. She fooled the faculty. She fooled me. Yet somehow I don’t think it’s all an act. Maybe with the rest of them, but not with me.

My mind rockets back to the day we first met. I was at Lookout Park, hiding behind the thickest tree I could find, pressed up against the protective dome. August Bergmann and his cronies had threatened to stuff me into one of the supply lockers and rig it shut. I’d slipped away after class, pressing through the crowd of students into the elevators before they could come after me. I spent the next period squeezed behind the tree. Not my proudest moment.

Then I heard her. “Hey kid,” she’d said. I looked up and there she was, perched in the branches like some crazy animal. I’d never seen a girl like her before. Turned out she was skipping class too, though not for the same reason as me. We spent the next hour talking. She seemed to understand it all—the big picture. She knew everything I was going through.

Now I understand it. She’d been spying on me before that conversation. She
did
know everything about me, maybe more than I knew myself. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that she’d cared enough to comfort me. Nobody else had.

Before meeting Avery, I’d had to make do with my teammates. Skandar’s cool, but never really understood things like she did. And Eva
…
Eva obviously had ulterior motives.

I do my best not to move, taking light breaths so I won’t wake her. Most of the passengers in our car have fallen asleep, too. I don’t blame them. There’s nothing to see outside beyond the darkness. Twice we’ve passed tiny Fringe Towns with one or two makeshift lanterns perched on tall wooden posts. The lights whipped by so fast that I barely noticed them. It’s better that way. After what happened back in Syracuse, I’m not too eager to try my luck again in the Fringes.

Then something hits the window on the far end of our cabin, breaking the stillness. My shoulder jerks back into the seat. The poor old woman across from us pops up with a start, looking around.

Avery shifts in her seat. I freeze, hoping that she won’t wake up. Too late.

Another microsecond and the noise rattles the window once more. Then again. Again.

A volley of rocks batter the outside of the Chute like maniacal, heavy rain, pelting the windows. The cabin jostles, waking up those who weren’t already alert. Muted shouts of
anger echo outside.

A second later and it’s gone.

Avery’s head darts up from my shoulder. She looks at me with groggy eyes. “What’s happening?”

“Fringers,” I respond, “I think. Throwing rocks.”

“Oh,” she yawns. “I woke up for that?”

“Probably their goal,” I say. “I mean, it’s not like they were going to stop the Chute.”

She glances over to my shoulder. “Did I—I mean—”

“Yeah,” I reply.

The captain’s voice comes over the intercom, letting us know that everything’s going to be okay, that we just experienced a bit of Fringe turbulence. People chuckle. Me, not so much.

Being forced into a burning brick wall by a trio of bloodthirsty
teenagers? Now that’s Fringe turbulence.

30

Focus gave way to exhaustion as Cassius’s eyes struggled to stay open. He was about to drift into sleep when the pain hit him again. Same as the Lodge and the Academy, like an eighteen-wheeler was being driven through his chest.

His eyes darted open automatically. His thoughts lagged behind, more annoyed than concerned.

Now? Just when he was about to get some sleep?

But as his sleep-addled mind began to clear, annoyance turned to panic.
Now? On this train with nowhere else to go?

The medication had kept him safe up to this point. Its effects must have expired. Tightening his lips to keep any noise in, he felt around in his pocket for the small envelope of pills Madame had given him. He found it almost immediately, pressed tightly against his warming body. Only two left.

Realizing he needed water, he fought through the pain and stood up, staggering through the length of the cabin toward the bathroom door on the opposite side. The light above shone green. It was unoccupied.

Pushing into the bathroom, he shut the door behind him and leaned against it, breathing hard. His heart leapt out of his chest, speeding up with every second, trying to break free. Soon it would match the pace of the Chute. Not again. Not now.

He stumbled to the miniature silver sink in the corner and poured the two white pills from the envelope, cradling them in his palm.

Out of nowhere the room began to shake. Something pelted the outside of the wall. Rain? No, it was impossible. It hardly ever rained in the Fringes.

The noises grew louder. Something heavy rocked the right wall of the bathroom, tilting the ground up beneath his feet. Before he could prevent it, his hand flew into the air. The pills scattered, landing in the sink. Clank. Clank.

He panicked, watching as they danced around the outline of the drain before disappearing into the dark hole.

Body on fire, he reached down to try to retrieve them, but the drain was deep and narrow. His fingers only went so far. No pipe to unscrew. No pills.

He kicked the wall, tears forming in his eyes before they evaporated into the air.

He did what he could.

Crouching on the floor, he huddled in the corner and gripped his chest, focusing on breathing. Desperate to inhale cool, temperature-controlled air and exhale the heat, he imagined snow. Ice cubes. Freezers.

Dropping his head down between his legs, he gritted his teeth, struggling against the growing pain. He’d conquered worse in his life. He could do it.

He removed his jacket and threw it to the floor, unfastening the top buttons of his shirt. He chest felt tied up with rubber bands. His skin was wet with sweat.

He grabbed the com-pad from his pocket, dialing Madame’s number. She knew what was wrong. She could help him.

There was a ring on the other end. No one picked up.

Another ring. Still no answer.

After five, he cursed and threw the com-pad to the other side of the bathroom. Madame said she’d be in constant contact. Why not now, when he needed her?

The tiny chamber steamed up as fire erupted inside of him. He knew he wouldn’t be able to control it much longer. He thought about running back into the cabin and forcing the door open—jumping outside. But he didn’t have the strength. He couldn’t even stand.

So he cowered like a baby, waiting for it to happen, wishing someone would come and take away the pain.

But there was no one. He’d ignored Madame. His real parents were gone. Nobody on the Chute knew him. Even if they did, they wouldn’t be able to help.

At 10:08 p.m., halfway between Portland and Spokane, car number fourteen exploded in a great ball
of fire, light
ing up the darkness for miles around. The flames quickly spread to the reserve engine in the back and shut down the entire Chute.

Knocked off course by the blast and unable to control its breakneck speed, the Chute’s front end plunged into the rocky abyss of the Fringes, zigzagging through the dust until it flipped sideways, carrying the rest of the train with it. Many up front died instantly, including the engineer.

The Unified Party would later blame the accident on a Pearl power surge, though the Fringers would somehow convince themselves that they were responsible. Nobody would believe the truth, that a fifteen-year-old boy had taken down a Chute carrying more than 500 passengers without as much as a weapon. The country was in dire straits, for sure, but something like that was just ridiculous.

31

I peel my body off the window, feeling my face for blood. Avery’s toppled over beside me. Her arm lies limp against my back. She’s breathing, and her eyes are open. That’s all that matters.

I inch myself along the glass, careful not to rub against the spider web cracks of jagged windowpane. Pulling myself to a crouching position, I look around the cabin.

Most everyone’s spilled over to the windows, which are now the floor. Some moan in pain. Others don’t move at all. I see a guy over in the corner, blood pouring from a gash on his forehead. I turn away, feeling sick. The old woman who sat across from me moments ago now lies in a twisted heap, her limbs all jumbled up like she’s made of clay. Her face is turned away from us. I don’t wanna see it.

Avery lifts herself from the ground beside me, rubbing the back of her head. “What was that?” she mumbles before looking around the cabin. Her mouth falls open as she takes it all in.

I try to answer, but nothing comes out. My voice has disappeared. I wish my body could do the same.

One moment we were speeding along the track. Then, shortly after the Fringers threw their rocks, the Chute went crazy. I tried to buckle my seat belt, but before I knew it the entire cabin flipped over on its side and everyone fell to the window like rag dolls.

Two times in one day.

Two times in one day, we’ve crashed. The first one was expected—controlled, even. This wasn’t, which makes it a thousand times more horrifying.

People start to scream as they realize what’s happened. Avery and I stay quiet. The ceiling lights to our side flicker on and off, then off completely. A horrible choking stench flows into the cabin. It takes me a second to realize it’s smoke. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I notice a faint light flickering from somewhere outside.

Fire. The Chute’s on fire.

“You okay?” Avery asks.

“We gotta get out of here. There’s a fire.”

“What about Cassius?”

“Isn’t time.” I crane my neck up to the ceiling—the right-side windows now framing the stars overhead. The circular entrance door lies slightly ajar, busted open from the force of the crash. Getting to it might be a problem, but it’s our only way out. The firelight advances in the distance.

Avery lays her hand on my shoulder. “Over and out?”

I nod, wondering exactly how we’re gonna get up there.

But Avery’s on it, pulling herself up onto the armrest of the nearest seat and standing across what used to be the center aisle. Pressed against the flooring, she grabs onto the next closest armrest and uses it to pull herself into the top row of seats. She crouches for a moment before making the final push.

I look up at her, perched in the sideways chair like she’s climbing a tree. This is going to be much harder than she just made it look. It’s like doing pull-ups, and I hate doing pull-ups. Can’t do more than ten. Luckily I’ve only gotta do two to get up and out of the car. Come on, arms. Don’t wimp out on me now.

Before I totally psych myself out, I move to the nearest seat and grab onto the armrest a few feet above my head.

Then I pull mass hard, trying to pretend like this is just another skill test. My muscles strain as I press my feet against the bottom armrest and launch myself upward.

After clearing the first pair of seats, I yank myself over the aisle and into the final top seats. Avery bends down and grabs the edge of the opening, letting her body go limp until she’s hanging in the air directly below the doorway. I sit on the armrest and watch her pull herself up onto the side of the train. Seconds later, she spins around and drops her arms through the opening.

“Just like climbing up into the vent,” she smiles down like the most beautiful monkey I’ve ever seen.

I flash a worried smile and grab onto her waiting hands, pressing my feet against the back of the seat so I can push out.

With Avery’s help, I lift myself out from the cabin and into the steaming-hot night air.

We stand on the curved siding of the Chute, careful not to slip. I look to the right: nothing but zigzagging train cars stretching on into the darkness. Then I turn around and see the flames spreading from the back. The very last car stands attached to the track, though just barely.

The Good Samaritan in me screams to head back down into the car and help some of the other passengers, but then I remember that Avery and I are fugitives, that we stole this ride. The longer we stay here, the greater chance the government will find us. Or maybe even Cassius. Avery steps to the edge of the car, sitting with her legs hanging over the side.

I move to join her. “What now?”

“We can’t stay here, obviously.”

I nod. “There was a Fringe Town a ways back.”

She shakes her head. “They’re hostile. We’ll head in the opposite direction. Northwest.”

I stare into the unknown. Shadowy rock formations jut out in the distance. Maybe they’re not rocks at all. “It’s dark. We’ll get lost out there.”

Avery pushes herself from the train, landing with a thud on the dusty ground below. “The stars, Jesse. You’ve seen ’em enough. They’re just a little farther away, that’s all.”

I follow, landing in an undignified heap beside her. My ankles rattle with a buzzing pain.

“I know the Surface,” she continues, “ever since I was a little girl. I know what to do if we get lost.” She grabs my hand and pulls me into the night. Even with the fire behind us, the darkness swallows us quickly.

After a minute of running, we stop and turn to survey the wreckage. The fire’s gobbled up a quarter of the Chute already, but it doesn’t seem so threatening all of a sudden, like it’s not even real. I feel a pang of guilt as we turn and walk away. The emergency fire systems are probably starting to kick in. It won’t be long until the flames are put out completely and a government squad is summoned. We made the right choice.

I repeat this mantra in my head, but it still doesn’t feel right.

“Keep your eyes peeled for lights,” Avery says.

I shake my head. “I wasn’t serious about heading into a Fringe Town, you know.”

“I know, but we need a place to sleep. Windstorms are common in this area. Towns will have shelter.”

“They’ll also have Fringers,” I reply. “Or have you forgotten that fun little mark on the side of my face a few days ago?”

“We’ll pretend we’re one of them,” she says, climbing up a gentle hill. “We’re certainly filthy enough.”

“Nomads,” I suggest.

She nods.

“And we’re … we’re desperate for water and shelter for the night,” I continue, “and we’ll be gone by morning.”

“
If
we run into trouble,” she says. “Most of these towns are deserted.”

“I’ve heard
that
one before.” I pause. “Avery?”

She turns, looking at me. “What is it?”

“You were serious back in Portland, right? About being on my side?”

She stumbles forward, grabbing me up in her arms and hugging me. This time I hug her back.

“I’ve never been so serious about something in my life,” she whispers. “Look at all we’ve survived so far. I’m not letting you down, Jesse.”

I rest my head on her shoulder, hands pressed against her back. “I think I believe you.”

She lets go, stepping away. “We need to get as far away from the Chute as possible.” She scans the flat expanse around us, pointing. “That way.”

I nod and we take off through the darkness, guided by little more than the moonlight.