Zenn, you’re hurting me. Saffediene’s voice stopped my downward spiral.
I released her hand, unaware I’d been squeezing so hard. I swallowed. “Someone died that night. Jag Barque’s brother.”
Ivory shifted her weight onto one leg, waiting for more of an explanation.
“Blaze Barque was an Assistant Director. He couldn’t get caught evacuating Insiders. I could do the job without him, but he wouldn’t stay. I voice-controlled him. Forced him to remain in the alley. I thought he’d be fine. I was in and out. He wasn’t there when I returned, and I had to leave so fast.” My words sounded like excuses.
“You could’ve said two words,” Ivory said.
“I wasn’t thinking clearly,” I replied. “But I am now. Thank you. We’re flying to Castledale to launch a second wave on General Darke. We desperately need Pace, Gunner, and Indy, though.” Ivory scowled, and I quickly added, “And anyone who wants to come fight for freedom.”
I had a feeling that’s what she wanted. She hated this city, this controlled life, and she hated me for not taking her away from it years ago. I waited while she stared at us, but not really. She was vision-screening again.
“When are you leaving?” she asked.
“As soon as possible,” Saffediene said. “We told Jag we’d be there by morning.”
Ivory focused on Saffediene. “We can’t get your people out by morning. But we can launch a breach when you throw your second wave at Darke. When is that?”
“We’ll arrive in Castledale in the morning,” Saffediene said. “The second wave goes out when Darke arrives back in the city.” She glanced at me. “We’re not exactly sure—”
“Day after tomorrow,” I said. “Full dark.”
Ivory scrutinized me again. Her lips pursed, and she brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Day after tomorrow. Full dark. That should give us enough time. We won’t launch too early so as to draw Darke here instead of back to Castledale.”
“It’s a deal,” I said.
After Ivory had walked away, and after Saffediene and I had climbed on our hoverboards and set a course for Castledale, my body buzzed with adrenaline. It felt good to be working in the Resistance again. Really working.
If only I could quell that nagging voice in the back of my head. The one that spoke in Director Hightower’s timbre. The one that asked: Are you sure you’re on the right side?
I can’t outfly Director Hightower’s words, just like I can’t hide in the dark.
“Here’s how this is going to go,” the Director says, still stroking his protocol-breaking beard. “You’re going to lead me directly to Jag Barque, and once we’ve annihilated his Insiders, you’re going to come back to Freedom with me.”
I can’t move, and I can’t speak. But the horror inside me must show on my face—or maybe the Director is inside my head. It doesn’t matter, he knows what I’m thinking.
“I know it’s Jag’s group, Jag’s objectives, Jag’s everything. None of this has anything to do with you, Zenn.”
I wish it were my Resistance. My cause. But I know it’s not, and Director Hightower knows it too. “You simply got caught up in the Resistance before you were old enough to know better.”
I want to tell him I do know better, but he smiles in that patronizing way that makes me both angry and afraid. “You didn’t know better then, Zenn. You do now. And you know what we’re fighting to maintain. Clean water. Jobs and food for everyone. A life without sickness, without suffering.”
He nods. “Yes, I know what you’ve seen in Harvest.”
He knows nothing of what I’ve seen. I try to look away, to break the connection between us, but I’m too weak. I’ve felt defeated before. Like I don’t matter. Like I’ll never be good enough. But I’ve never felt this level of anguish before.
I search for the root of this pain and find it hidden deep within myself. I hate the truth that I’ve been trying to hide from, but Director Hightower speaks it, makes it alive and real.
And deep in my soul, I know he’s right when the Director says, “You could be Freedom’s Director, Zenn. Big things are happening here. Are you sure you’re on the right side?”
The streets coming into Castledale were just as Saffediene and I had seen them on the feed: lifeless. Part of me wondered why, and the other part already knew.
Even though Thane had said sequestered, I knew the city had been abandoned. I’d learned about ghost towns in my ancient civilizations classes; they usually died because the water dried up or legend claimed a spirit haunted the area.
In this case, General Director Darke drove away the people with threats and mind control. Already the buildings seemed older, the sidewalks cracked. I imagined what this city might look like in fifty years. In one hundred years.
Would it look like Seaside? Or the Badlands? The Citizens there had survived wars and fires and brainwashing. People had survived. Built new buildings. Cultivated trees. Castledale could be repopulated, no matter what General Darke had done.
With my resolve to defy Director Hightower firm, I squared my shoulders and entered the only building in use in Castledale: the safe house where the Resistance would make its final stand.
I steered clear of Jag. He was stormy and dangerous, what with Vi unconscious and over half his crew dead or missing. Saffediene filled him in on our convo with Ivory. I’d asked her to keep any mention of what had happened with Blaze out of the report.
She’d do it, even if she didn’t like it. During the eight-hour flight here, I’d told her about the mission to Freedom when he’d died. She’d listened—something Jag had never done.
Blaze’s death wasn’t my fault. He was the Assistant Director of Seaside; he should not have been assigned a mission that could have compromised his position in the Association.
His death was Jag’s fault.
Of course we’d both spent the last two years blaming ourselves inwardly and each other outwardly. But I’d learned that blaming someone doesn’t help. It only colors your view of them, and I’d been watching Jag through a red haze for a long time.
Everything he did angered me. Everything he said, I questioned. And when he took Vi from me, my blame and fury and guilt were easily dumped on Jag. I didn’t know how to overcome it, so I waited on the fringes for Saffediene to report, and then I took her hand and led her down a posh hallway. “Did we get room assignments?”
“We need to see Laurel for that.”
So we did. Laurel had organized the building into wings, with our tech facilities and infirmary in one, the dining hall and common areas in another, bedrooms in a third, and the war room in the last.
Everyone seemed to be in the war room with Jag, so that’s exactly where I didn’t want to be.
The lodging wing was dimly lit and crazy-quiet. Four hallways branched off the main corridor, with girls down two of them, and boys down the other two. Half of me wanted nothing more than to rush to Vi’s bedside and urge her to wake up. The other half wanted to slip into the privacy of Saffediene’s room and forget I’d ever loved another girl.
Neither half won. Saffediene kissed me quickly on the mouth before disappearing down one of the girls’ halls. I listened to her retreating footsteps mingle with the dull chatter from the war room.
Then I escaped to my room, which consisted of a narrow cot shoved against a wall and a single shelf above it. Sitting on the bed, I seriously considered leaving. What would happen if I did? Would anyone care? How long would it take for them to notice?