Sketch spits over the edge. We watch it fall until it’s out of sight. “Love makes us do stupid things,” she says.
I turn to her. “I thought you said you couldn’t love.”
“I lied.” She laughs, a hollow sound. “Did you know I had a sister, once? She was just like Meadow. Reckless. Angry. Strong.”
“Meadow reminds you of her,” I say. It’s not a question. I should have known the entire time, the way Sketch makes excuses for Meadow. The way she stays by her side without questioning it. She’s replacing her sister with Meadow.
Sketch nods. “We can’t bring back the people we’ve lost, but we can find pieces of them in others.”
It starts to rain, little drops of water dancing down from the sky. I tilt my head back and let the drops burst onto my tongue.
Sketch sighs. “Woodson doesn’t care about anyone besides her family. But then there’s you. There’s always been you. I said she whispered Peri’s name, in that dirty cell. But she also whispered yours, Zephyr. Every night, I heard your name, over and over.”
“I killed Lark,” I say. “She hates me now. Whatever was between us is gone.”
Sketch’s laughter is nearly lost in the rain. It pounds down now, soaks my clothes, my hair. “Meadow loves you. She’s just too scared to admit it.”
“And you?” I ask. “What about you?”
She shrugs. “No one loves me. No one ever will. It’s better that way.”
“You can’t really believe that,” I say, but Sketch waves a hand, and my voice trails off.
I don’t know why I do it. But as thunder rumbles the sky, and lightning strikes overhead, I reach out and put my arm over her shoulders. At first she tenses up. But then, when I refuse to let go, she leans against me. She’s warm and solid. If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine the rain is the sound of the ocean.
We’re somewhere safe and free. We’re not Patients. We’re just people.
“We’re the same,” I say. “You and me. We broke free of the system, and now we’re trailing after the girl who holds the key to its life in her brain. Are we stupid, Sketch? Are we cursed to always follow the Murder Complex in some way?”
“We’re not cursed,” Sketch says. “We’re bound by love. Love makes it harder to see the darker side of things. When I look at her, all I see is the sun.”
The rain drowns out the sound of the world.
“We’re going with her, aren’t we?” I ask.
Sketch nods.
“You and me,” she says.
We sit together on the edge of the world until the storm passes.
We don’t talk anymore, and we don’t have to, because the decision radiates between us. The fear, the questions, but there is no longer any doubt.
We’re going back inside the walls.
Only this time, we don’t know what waits for us on the other side.
Meadow has brought her mother back from the dead.
She looks at me, and I see nothing but emptiness in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I say, as we follow the General and his soldiers through the parking garage, up the ramp. I grab Meadow’s arm, but she shakes it off. “Meadow. Can we talk about this, please?”
She stares straight ahead. “There is nothing to talk about. You killed my mother. You did it because you had to. And now, I can’t look at you without seeing her blood on your hands.”
“She put blood on my hands, from tons of innocent people,” I hiss.
Sketch marches beside her, wearing Leech black. “She put blood on my hands too, Woodson. Let it go. Zero did us all a favor.”
“You two are idiots,” Meadow hisses. She looks at Sketch. “You are only slightly less of an idiot than he is.”
Sketch explodes with laughter. She wraps her arm around Meadow’s shoulders, and suddenly I’m the ChumHead in the back, alone, marching along in a Leech uniform. Following Meadow like some homeless dog. Sasha, the New Militia member who runs the telescope, is going with us. She falls back beside me, her red hair tied in a bun. It shows off the new Leech tattoo on her neck. The open eye. I’ve got to hand it to her; she’s committed to the disguise.
Talan would have done the same thing, and if she were here, she’d tell me to man up and forget about Meadow for a while. Let her come to me.
“You hanging in there?” Sasha asks. She nods in Meadow’s direction.
I blow out a mouthful of air. “You don’t even want to know. I screwed this up, bad.”
She laughs. “She seems like a tough one.”
“Tough doesn’t begin to cover it.”
“Well, I’ve seen the way she looks at you, when you’re not looking at her.” Sasha winks and nudges me with her hip. “There’s hope in there somewhere. There’s always hope. Sometimes it just takes a little patience before it shows itself.”
The General stops up ahead, motions for the two guards at the gate to open it. Sunlight pours in from the outside, and the sounds of so many people on the packed streets. Sweat beads on my forehead.
It’s like we never left the Shallows.
The gate screeches and groans as it rises into the ceiling, just enough for us to pass through. The guards stand at the ready with their rifles.
“Remember the plan.” The General turns to me, Meadow, Sketch, and Sasha. “As soon as you get there, you have seventy-two hours to find your family and make contact, as Miss Woodson decided upon. If you don’t, we’ll assume the worst. You’ll be on your own.” He looks us all over, then lands his gaze on Meadow. “Remember what I said. I’m counting on you, Soldier.”
There’s a secret between them. Something that’s hidden, and I don’t like it.
Meadow lifts her hand, does what I’ve learned is called a salute.
I know what it means.
It means her freedom is gone. She’s already a part of the General’s army.
I lift my hand, salute him, too. Meadow throws me a glare.
“I go where you go,” I say, and shrug.
“Oh, for the love of fluxing . . . Can we just get on with it already?” Sketch groans.
The General sends us into the streets.
I hope the plan works. Because it if doesn’t, we’re all going to die.
CHAPTER 59
MEADOW
The weakness fades inside of me. I feel strength come back in a surge.
I know what is happening to me. But I hold that secret to myself.
At least for now, I’m strong enough to run with everyone else. At this rate, we will make it to the train tracks in a few hours’ time. The storm has finally passed.
We pass back through the city, through the packs of people. This time, when they see us dressed as Initiative soldiers, they shy away. They avoid our eyes, like they’re afraid of us. We have rifles on our shoulders, the same way the soldiers in the Shallows always did.
But it’s not the guns.
It’s the look of us.
Even on the Outside, the people fear the Initiative.
“Sometimes the Initiative combs the streets,” Sasha says. “They take people at random, load them on to their trains.”
“Why?” Sketch asks, as we leave the city behind and follow chunks of an old road, bits and pieces blown away.
Sasha shakes her head. “We think they take them to the Ridge, and to the Drop. Never the Shallows, though. That one is full, from what we’ve gathered.” She smiles for a second. “But you three made it out, didn’t you?”
I sidestep a pipe that sticks out of the concrete like it is stretching for the sky. “We didn’t make it out without casualties.”