More gunshots sound, and I realize that all my friends are fighting for their lives. We have the superior weapons, but there are so many people. Where is the tank? As if in answer to my prayer, I feel the vibration beneath my feet that means it is close. It storms into the square and people scatter as a volley of gunfire bursts from the windows.
Suddenly Pace has me and is rushing me away from the fountain to the tank. Lyon is there, along with Findley.
“Where are Zan and James?” Lyon shouts. We all shake our heads. More shots are fired into the crowd from the tank. People fall to the ground, some wounded, others in fear, screaming and covering their heads. More shots sound on the other side of the square. James and Zan? I can’t see who is shooting. Pace presses me against one of his legs and shields me with his body. Lyon fires his gun into the air and the noise subsides as the crowd quiets down, knowing they are outmatched. I can feel them trembling in fear. No matter how angry they are, they don’t want to die.
It grows so quiet that I can hear crying. Who is crying? It sounds like Zan. Is it Levi? Oh God, please no, don’t let it be Levi.
Pace gasps, and then he turns to me and his face is stricken. I am too short. I can’t see over the people. I can’t see over the crowd. “Who is it?” I ask. “Who is hurt?”
“James,” he says. “It’s James. I think he’s dead.”
25
The crowd parts for us as we walk through. I don’t know if it’s the weapons we carry or the looks on our faces that humble them. We move until we come to the steps of my father’s building. Zan sits on the top step with James’s head in her lap. Lyon dashes to her side. Behind us I hear the heavy clomping of the tank as Harry pushes through the crowd to stand between us and the mob.
James.
Our friends appear. Adam runs up the steps, followed by Jon, Colm, and Joe. Levi appears and then David. They are both bloody and their mouths set in a grim line. Bluecoats line the steps, and Pace and I pass through them. I kneel beside Adam.
“He saved me,” Zan says. Tears run down her face. I look at James and see the hole in his chest where his heart lies. I see the blood seeping out of his chest.
“One of them took my gun from me,” Zan says, and I see that she is bloody too. “He didn’t know what he was doing. It went off and James stepped in front of the bullet. If not it would have struck me.” Lyon puts his hand on her hair, and she crumbles into him.
“It’s my fault,” she wails. “It’s all my fault.”
James.
James apologized to me yesterday morning. They were the last words we spoke. He can’t be gone. He just can’t. Yet he is.
The hatch opens on our side of the tank. Alcide and Peter.
“No,” Alcide cries out.
Adam looks up at him and then at Lyon. “We’ve got to get him out of here,” he says.
“We will,” Lyon says. “I promise you we will.” He rises and looks out over the crowd. “But first we have to take care of this. Someone needs to talk to these people.” He looks at me. “Wren?”
I shake my head and look at Pace. “Not me,” I say. “You should do it. You can say it so much more eloquently than I.”
“But this was your battle. Your belief. Your resolve that got us here.”
“We all have our parts to play,” I say. “This was not just me, it was all of us. This part of it is yours.”
Pace nods. “Then we’ll do it together.” He takes my hand and smiles at me.
“Together,” I say.
“Help us up,” he says to Levi and David. They put their hands together to form a basket. Pace puts his hands on their shoulders and his foot in their hands and they push him up to the back of the tank, where Alcide is waiting to pull him up. They do the same with me. Alcide jumps down and Dr. Stewart comes out of the hatch as Pace and I move to the front of the tank.
The crowd turns to look up at us. The questions are on their faces. Some people are weeping. Some are dead or wounded, and their friends and family kneel beside the bodies, but all have their eyes on Pace and me. And I quickly realize that I have no idea what to say, but I should say something, so I begin and pray that the words will come to me.
“Look above you,” I say. “Do you see the sky? Do you see how blue it is? There are no flames out there. There is blue sky and fresh air and rain and an ocean that stretches on forever. There is beauty out there.” The people look up and understanding lights their faces.
“We were lied to!” Someone yells out, and others murmur in agreement.
“The man who lied to you is dead,” Pace says. “His body is hanging there from the lamppost. You can’t hurt him now, and he cannot lie to you any longer. But know this. He not only lied to you, he lied to everyone. In this everyone in the dome was treated equally. The king down to the shiners and scarabs were all told the same lie, and the lie was carried for many generations.” As Pace speaks I search the crowd for the king, but I do not see him. Is he among the fallen, or was he wise enough to escape when things got out of hand?
“So what do we do now?” someone yells. “Who is going to give us food?”
“You’ll have to work for it, like you always have,” Pace says. “But you can choose the work you want to do. You can grow your own food. Tend your own gardens. You can trade with others. But that doesn’t mean you can just go out there and take what you want. We have to preserve the world out there and the resources it offers, just like we had to in here. But we are going to do things differently now.”
“Says who?” someone yells.
“Says all of us,” Pace replies. “I want each of you to elect someone to speak for you. Someone from the tradesmen. Someone from the workers. Someone from the gardeners, the butchers, the weavers. Someone from the royals and someone from the scarabs.”
“Everyone will be represented,” I say. “Everyone will have an equal vote.”
“Why do you get a say?” someone yells out. “You’re nothing but a dirty shiner!”
“Leave her be!” a voice yells out. I recognize it and look out in the crowd to see Max, the dome cleaner, taking my side. “She was the only one brave enough to see this through,” he says. “She’s earned the right to speak.”
I smile my gratitude at Max.
“Pick your representatives,” Pace says. “But, remember, these are the ones who will speak for you. Meet us at the library at noon, and we will tell you what we have learned of the outside world. If we all work together, then we can survive.”
“What if we don’t want to talk?” someone yells out.
Pace stomps on the tank with one foot. “Then this will talk to you.”
“As will we!” Findley yells out, and I realize that the bluecoats have gathered around the tank below us and Findley is now the man in charge of them.
It strikes me then. There are no signs of filchers. Did they all run for it once they found that they could get out, or did they simply remove their masks and blend in with the crowd? I cannot believe they will change just like that.
We will have to watch out for them. No, not we, them. Us. The parliament. The new government that will be put into place. We will also have to watch out for the rovers. Just because Ragnor expects to take over doesn’t mean it will be peaceful.
“Can we go out?” someone yells. “Can we see?”
Pace points down the promenade. “Indeed you may,” he says. “There are people waiting to answer your questions. But remember this. This world is for all of us. We all have an equal share. Treat it and those around you as you would want to be treated. Respect this world and the people you share it with, and we will all survive and prosper.”