The woman sits.
“I am Doctor Jameson,” the woman says. “The head scientist in charge here, at the Ridge.”
Meadow is still weak beside me. She slumps her head against the bars so she can see the doctor.
Sketch just rolls her eyes, like she’s sick of hearing the woman after only a few words.
“Normally, I would kill anyone on sight, for brutally murdering twenty-three of my soldiers, injuring seven others, and destroying years of work in some of my labs. Years,” Jameson hisses. She crosses her legs, sits straight up in the chair. “But you three don’t deserve death. It’s too quick. Too final.” She looks at us with so much hatred I swear she’s going to burst. “I know where you came from, and I know exactly who you are.”
“So ship us back to the Shallows already,” Sketch says. “We all know that’s what you’re going to do.”
Jameson narrows her eyes. “Did you think you could simply come in here, destroy us all, and walk out with your lives? What are you really here for?”
I don’t say a word. Sketch just groans and looks away.
It’s Meadow who speaks. “We came to ruin you,” she whispers. “Just like we ruined the Shallows.”
Jameson’s dark eyes meet Meadow’s light ones. Together they’re two hot flames, out for someone or something to burn.
“The Shallows still stands, despite the death of Lark Woodson and the Commander.” She nods at Meadow. “You are the precious daughter she spoke so highly of when we were in training together. If I didn’t support her cause, I’d already have carved you from ear to ear.”
Meadow laughs. “You and I both know you can’t hurt me.”
“No,” Jameson says. “But I can hurt your friends.”
“I’ve already been through this, back in the Shallows. Hurt them, hurt me. It’s a waste of time. Send us back home and move on with your life.”
Jameson stands, paces back and forth. “I would love to send you home,” she says. “Especially because you escaped.” She stoops to one knee in front of our cage. She’s so close I can see the muted brown flecks in her green eyes. “No one escapes the Initiative.”
Sketch spits at her, then laughs. “We did.”
Jameson wipes her face. Then she pulls out her pistol and levels it at Sketch’s head.
Suddenly the soldiers rush forward, but Jameson screams an order. They freeze.
“The new Commander has ordered that I send you into the Ridge,” Jameson says.
The new Commander?
I hope it’s Rhone. I hope he took control, like he said he would. I hope Dex is there beside him, singing her crazy songs, giggling like the beautiful maniac she is.
“The new Commander is a fool.” Jameson’s eyes go to Meadow. “If you die in there, imagine the waste. I should take out your brain now. I should start my own testing site and use you as my prototype.” She growls, runs a hand across her face. “You have put holes in our system. You have ruined the order we worked so hard to gain. Don’t you understand? We’re trying to fix the world. And you’re working against us, to break it all over again!”
She throws back her head and screams.
“Doctor.” One of the soldiers steps forward, reaches a hand out to her, but she turns and shoots him. I hear his head smack the concrete with a wet squelch of blood and brains.
She turns back to us and kneels, close enough to look Meadow eye to eye. “You were never meant to escape the Shallows.”
Blood drips from Meadow’s nose. She’s too weak to move to wipe it away.
“You’re dying,” Jameson says. “Aren’t you?”
Meadow glares at her.
Blood drops. Splatters on the cold floor.
The doctor’s lip curls in disgust. “What a waste.”
She stands, moves for the door.
“I do hope you enjoy the Ridge. This time, there is no escape. And what you’ll find inside, I can assure you, is worse than death. I’d put the new Commander in there myself, if I could.”
She marches from the room, slamming the door behind her.
CHAPTER 71
MEADOW
I ’m young.
Lying on the bow of the boat beside my mother, the first few weeks we had it.
It’s nighttime. The stars are out, and we’re staring at the sky, counting the constellations. It amazes me how vast the sky is, even when the world feels so impossibly small.
I close my eyes. Begin to drift away.
I hear my mother’s voice whispering, whispering.
“I’m sorry,” she says, “for what I’ve done.”
It’s a dream, only a dream, and I am too young to understand.
“I will always give you a way out,” she says. “Maybe someday, you’ll make the choice to die.”
I am nearly gone.
“If you leave here,” she whispers, “it will happen. My gift to you, Meadow.”
I feel her lips touch my forehead.
Then my dreams whisk me away, beneath the sky and the stars.
PART THREE
THE RIDGE
CHAPTER 72
ZEPHYR
Morning comes like a strike of lightning.
Too fast, and impossible to avoid.
We march down the valley behind the Leech building, skidding on loose gravel and stones, patches of grass.
Every step gets us closer to the Ridge.
Every second gets Meadow nearer to finding her family.
We’re almost to the edge of the Ridge when the Night Siren goes off, even though it’s morning. But the sound is still the same. It’s like the wailing has come right out of my memories, piercing my ears, stabbing my heart.
Meadow stumbles and drops to her knees.
The Leech guards laugh and kick her.
“Get up,” they say. “Move.”
She’s too weak.
Seeing her there, broken on the ground, almost breaks me. But then she looks up, and instead of fear or sadness in her eyes, there’s the promise of death.
“You’re all bastards,” Sketch says. “You know that, right? Come on, Woodson.”
She helps Meadow up. We put her in between us and practically carry her the rest of the way down the hill.
“I don’t need help,” Meadow says, but it comes out like a gasp. “If I had my weapons . . .”
Her eyes flick toward me just for a second. “You’ll switch again soon,” I whisper. “Then you won’t need your weapons.”
“How long before the switch kills me for good?” she asks. “How long before I’m dead?”
“Don’t think like that,” I say. “We’ll figure it out.”