The Sun Dwellers (24 page)

“But why…?” Roc says, a question in his tone and in his eyes. He doesn’t finish the question, but Bren seems to discern the rest.

“I didn’t know to whom your or Tristan’s loyalties were,” Bren says. “You were on a shortlist of potential new inductees into our group, but then you ran away from the Sun Realm. That’s when we knew for sure you were one of us.”

“So you’re hiding in the trash as part of your work for this clandestine radical group?” Adele guesses.

“Oh no, we are not radicals,” Bren says. “We are revolutionaries. But yes, we seek to escape this place to join the Resistance below. If others are fighting, then we too shall fight. This Dumpster is a meeting place. The others shall join us soon. Then we make our way to the Moon Realm.”

Bren has a funny way of speaking, almost proper-sounding, not like Adele’s sister, Elsey, who tends to overdramatize things, but very formal and serious, as if the fate of the world depends on his diction and word choice. But regardless of the manner in which he conveys his message, his words are pure. This is a guy who wants to do the right thing. He’s one of us.

“Can you help us?” I ask, not really realizing the trust I’m putting in the servant until the words escape my lips.

“We cannot linger here much longer, as even now I fear the war is slipping away below us. But we will do what we can.”

“All we need is safe passage to the palace—I mean, the presidential complex. Can you show us the best way?”

“Ah, now that is truly a simple request. We’ll have you there within the hour. But then we must be off to join the forces below, for we will not sit idly by while the fate of the world rests on a knife’s edge.”

What Bren doesn’t know is that we’re the ones holding the knife.

Adele

I
’m glad to be off the streets again.

Meeting Bren will either be the greatest stroke of luck to grace our mission thus far, or the coincidence that leads to our demise. Being a servant, he is one I’d certainly trust over anyone else up here. In any case, we’ve decided to follow him through the underground sewer system below the city, a dark, dank, and somber place that reminds me more of home than anything I’ve seen in the Sun Realm thus far.

We walk along the edge of the cylindrical concrete shaft that we find ourselves in, avoiding getting our feet wet sloshing through the thin stream of water that runs down the center. Tawni’s heels are off again, this time for good. Before discarding them in the water, I overheard her say, “I’ll miss you, pretty shoes,” which I don’t understand at all, and probably never will.

Bren has a flashlight, which saves us from using ours. As he walks abreast with his still-silent brother and sister, he explains the situation as he knows it. “I have information from a reliable source that the sun dwellers launched a coordinated attack last night on every major moon dweller border. They started with heavy bombing, which was then followed by large contingents of soldiers moving in to take control of each subchapter. The moon dwellers had little chance of stopping them.”

I can’t breathe, the thick oxygen sticking in my throat like glue. I stop, wheezing, my elbows dropping to my knees.

“Adele, what’s the matter?” Tristan says. His hand gently touches my back.

“What subchapters?” I choke out.

“I do not know,” Bren says. “But I do know subchapter one was hit the hardest.”

My legs start shaking and my vision blurs. Unable to hold up my weight any longer, I roll to the side, my shoulder thudding off the unforgiving concrete. My cheek scrapes against the rough surface, but I don’t care. No mark on my face could be as bad as what I’ve just heard. “We’re too late,” I moan. “It’s over.”

Tristan’s face appears through my tears as he kneels over me. “There’s still hope,” he says. “If she survived there will be a trial. She’ll be sentenced to death, but we might be able to rescue her before that happens.”

“And if she didn’t survive?” I say, images of my mom’s battered face cycling through my mind in black and white.

“She did,” Tristan asserts, “but if she didn’t, you still have your sister to take care of. If we can finish our mission, it could still make a difference for anyone still alive, especially for the non-military.”

Elsey’s face appears, replacing my dead mother. She’s smiling as usual, despite the war and my dad dying and my mom maybe dying and me being on a potential suicide mission. Just seeing her face for a moment, even if only in my mind, lifts my spirits long enough for me to blink away the tears and allow Tristan to help me to my feet.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, unwilling to look any of my comrades in the face after my mini-meltdown. “I’m okay now.”

“Screw ’em,” Trevor says. “As long as we’re alive, they’ve got a fight on their hands.”

When I look up my friends are staring at me. Tristan’s brow is furrowed and worried. Tawni looks ready to throw her arms around me. Roc is, well, he’s Roc, solid and steady and reliable, his hand half-extended, as if ready to catch me if my legs fail again. And Trevor: his face is a scowl, an expression that represents the righteous anger inside him, an anger that will only help us finish this mission together. His face, more than any of the others, steels me the most. My knuckles tighten at my sides as a surge of fire runs through me.

“Let’s end this,” I say.

We continue our march through the sewer, and my legs feel the lightest they’ve felt since leaving the Moon Realm. I can almost feel my friends, my sister, my mother, even my father, holding me up, becoming a part of me, supporting me. We’re in this together, still alive, still whole, still hopeful.

What was a steely determination to kill the man who ordered the death of my father, the maiming of my baby sister, has turned into a fierce and burning desire for revenge. Not just for those who I know that have been harmed by the cruel dictator who sits on his throne deep in the capital, but for
everyone
whose lives have been negatively impacted by his evil ways. We can’t get to him fast enough for me. Every muscle and ligament and bone in my body is firing perfectly, working efficiently as a team, and I know that when we do meet him I’ll be unstoppable, the most powerful and deadly force that he’s ever seen.

And then I’ll kill him.

Unfortunately, another hour of tromping, head stooped, through the sewers, takes just a bit of the fight out of me. Mostly we’ve been silent, although every once and a while Trevor will say something to try to fire us up, but even he’s been quiet for the last ten minutes.

“How big is this city?” I finally ask, in frustration.

“Big,” Tristan says. “Bigger than you can possibly imagine. Think the biggest moon dweller city and then multiple that by a hundred.”

His explanation makes it even harder for me to imagine. How can one fathom the fathomless? Anyway, we’re not trying to get all the way across it, just to the center, so it can’t be that far, right?

Wrong.

Neck aching, legs burning, mouth dry, spirit shattered, I stop an hour later when Bren pulls up in front of us.

“We’ve got to be close,” Tristan says, making my head perk up a little. He knows the size of the city better than me.

“We are,” Bren says. “And this is where we must part ways. For our path takes us below, while I suspect yours takes you straight to your father.”

“Good to luck to you, Bren,” Tristan says, clasping the servant’s hand. “We are forever in your debt.”

“Succeed in whatever your mission is, and all debts shall be forgiven,” Bren returns. Then, turning to Roc, he says, “Brother, forgive me for not trusting in the purity of your heart sooner. I very much would have liked to stand beside you in this fight.”

“And you, my friend,” Roc says, once more embracing him. “Linus, Sinew—listen to your brother. He has good instincts.”

The silent siblings nod solemnly, before the threesome head in the other direction, beginning the long walk back to where they started, and then on a dangerous journey to the Moon Realm, or what’s left of it. Just before the head of Bren’s flashlight disappears in the dark, Tristan calls out, “Where do we go?”

“A hundred yards more and you’ll reach a ladder. That’ll get you close,” Bren shouts, his echoes fading into the distance along with him.

“When we get to the ladder we can rest and make plans,” Tristan says. No one can argue with that idea.

I’m still feeling the effects of our bent-over jaunt through the sewers, but somehow it doesn’t hurt so much now that I know the end is near. Evidently my companions feel the same way, as our pace is redoubled and we reach a dead end only a minute later.

“I’m ready for a nap,” Trevor says, sprawling out along the curving edge of the tube.

“You do that…while we kill the president,” Roc says.

It’s strange hearing Roc say something like that, especially when he now knows the President is his father.

“Ooh, I don’t want to miss that,” Trevor says. “I guess I can sleep later, maybe when I’m dead.”

“You’re not going to die,” I say, sitting down. “None of us are.” It’s the biggest lie I’ve told in my entire life, and, selfishly, I think I told it to comfort my own fears rather than anyone else’s.

“So what’s the plan?” Tawni asks, hugging her knees next to me.

“Bust in, kill anything that moves, shoot Tristan and Roc’s dad in the head,” Trevor says bluntly.

“Our
father
,” Tristan corrects.

“Yeah, him, too,” Trevor says.

“I think we might want to try a slightly stealthier approach,” I say. “That is, if we do want to live through this. And I do—I’ve got a sister to look after.” I glance at Tristan, who gives me a slight nod, which I return in thanks for the not-so-subtle reminder he gave me earlier. No matter how bad things get, there’s always someone who needs me as much as I need them.

“She’s right,” he says. “We need to split up.”

“No!” I say right away. “We said we would stick together. Apart we’ll be hanging bats. Dead meat.”

“Hear me out,” Tristan says. “Roc and I know the palace better than anyone, my father included. When we were kids we explored every nook and cranny. We know the best ways in, the fastest routes from point to point, and the safest ways out. If we each lead a team in a different direction with the goal of eventually reaching the same destination—in this case my father’s throne room—it doubles our chance of success.”

“If one group is captured, the other might still make it,” Roc adds. Evidently they’ve already discussed this without us, although I have no idea when. “If we’re caught together, it’s all over.”

I shut my eyes.
Argh!
I’m mad, but not because of their plan, or that they came up with it without us, but because they’re right. It’s the best, and most logical, way to improve our chances for success.

“Who goes with who?” I say, giving up the argument without a fight.

“We wanted to leave that up to the group,” Tristan says.

“At least you left
something
up to the group,” I grumble under my breath.

“I want Tawni with me,” Roc says right away.

“Bad idea,” Trevor says. “We can’t let personal feelings get in the way of the mission as a whole.”

“I agree,” I say. “Tristan and I will split up, and so should Tawni and Roc.”

“Wait a minute. I’m not sure that makes the most sense,” Tristan says, frowning. “Strategically it might make the most sense to have you and me together.”

“It doesn’t,” I say, wanting more than anything to relent, to go with him, to seal our fates together with this decision. But I can’t. Trevor’s right, for once.

“Trevor and Adele are right,” Tawni says, glancing at Roc. “I’m sorry, I want to go with you, but…”

Roc chews on his lip, turns to Tristan, who’s doing much the same thing. “Three against two,” I say. “Couples must be separated.” Again. It’s the third time I’ll be separated from Tristan since first seeing him. If history repeats itself, we’ll both face great dangers before we ever see each other again.

“I don’t agree,” Tristan says, “but I’ll go along with the group’s decision.”

“Don’t make me beg,” Roc says to Tawni.

“Roc, I’m sorry.”

“Rrrr, fine. Okay. I’ll go with whoever we decide.”

“Me and Tawni,” I suggest, reverting naturally to the combo that’s gotten me this far.

“No way,” Tristan says. “Tawni’s not a fighter. You need at least two fighters.”

“She’ll fight if she has to,” I argue, which draws a smile from Tawni. “She even practiced with Roc, remember?” I add.

“That’s not helping your argument,” Tristan says. “Roc’s got spirit but he’s not exactly a professional warrior.”

“Hey! I’ve saved your skin more than once already,” Roc complains.

“I’m not contending that. I’m just saying that one training session with you won’t put Tawni on even ground with a palace guard.”

“But she’ll have me,” I say. “No one will touch her on my watch.”

“Unless you get killed,” Tristan says grimly. “You’re tough as hell, Adele, but you’re not invincible.” And that, my friends, is the problem. No matter how much righteous anger and lust for revenge courses through my veins, I can’t guarantee anything. “Just take Trevor with you. Please.”