Frozen (23 page)

Titus and I crash to the floor. I hear Sammy jump to action behind me, going after Bruno or Kaz. I think even Clipper joins in, but I don’t dare turn my head to check. I claw the knife from Titus’s hand, push it aside. I don’t want to fight him with the blade because it will make it too easy. I want to feel every ounce of pain I inflict on him. I lose count of my punches. My hands are bloody, my knuckles on fire. Titus is moments away from passing out when someone—Bruno or Kaz—strikes me from behind. My world blurs. I fall to my knees, skull throbbing.

I look for Titus and find him already on his feet, retrieving the knife. He twists around and kicks all in one motion. My head whips backward. The world is white. And then Titus is above me, his knees against my chest and his blade right before my eyes. I spit at him. He lifts me by my shirt and slams me against the floor.

“Any last words before yer butchered, Reaper?” Titus’s nose is gushing, his teeth smeared with blood, but he looks so happy in this moment. Proud. Behind him, Sammy is pinned to the wall by Kaz, and Clipper is slumped to the floor, dazed. Bruno towers over me, watching in amusement.

I catch Jackson in the corner. He’s just standing there, motionless, watching us get beaten to death. I knew he wouldn’t be able to fight it. It was wishful thinking to believe a Forgery could ever be my ally.

But then again . . .

Jackson’s hands have become fists. They are clenched at his side, trembling. His lip twitches. His eyes dart between us all. It’s like he wants to do something but can’t find the courage.

“Now would be the time, Jackson. This is the moment we talked about.”

Titus makes a face, confused with my seemingly odd choice of last words. Then he shrugs and brings the blade closer.

And Jackson springs to life.

He pulls Titus off my chest as though he weighs nothing and knees him in the gut. Titus coughs, buckles over, drops the knife. It is in Jackson’s hand in a flash and before I’ve even scrambled to my feet, Jackson has dragged it across Titus’s neck.

“Don’t,” Bruno pleads, as Jackson turns on him. “Please.”

But the Forgery attacks anyway. He slams Bruno’s head into the wall, and before the guard hits the ground, he turns on Kaz. Jackson brings the blunt end of the knife handle against his temple and the man goes still.

“You killed him,” Clipper says, staring at Titus’s body. “And the others.”

Jackson shakes his head. “These two will live.”

“What the hell just happened?” Sammy is looking at the fallen bodies in shock. “Did you?” He glances at Jackson, and then me, then the Forgery again. “You helped us. Gray said it was time and you
helped
us.”

“We came to an agreement,” Jackson says plainly. “It took me a little while to act on it, but I feel invincible now.”

And maybe he is. Maybe he’s broken down whatever greater power rules his mind and is truly free, but I don’t have time to contemplate it. I brush by them.

They don’t ask where I’m going.

They know, and they follow.

The Breeder hallway is quiet. The doors hang open, each room empty except for the random blanket or floor mat. My stomach rolls over. What if we’re too late? What if we get there and it’s already been done? I force myself to ignore the thought and push my legs faster.

The hall twists, and when we round the corner, I can make out a guard waiting at the far end. No, not a guard. Bree.

She’s leaning against the wall nonchalantly, arms folded against her chest. I skid to a stop before her, startled.

“What happened?”

She looks up at me, eyebrows raised. “Nothing.”

There are two men inside the room to her right, both unconscious.

“How did—”

“Knocked out the guy they shut me in with before he even saw it coming. The guard was so surprised when I stepped into the hallway he hardly had a chance. And then I waited. I knew you guys would come looking for me.”

Sammy laughs. “You may be crazy, Nox, but you’ve got guts.”

She grins proudly but I’m still staring at her, marveling at the fact that she is intact, untouched, unharmed. I grab her and pull her into a hug.

“I can’t believe you’re okay,” I say into her hair. Then I grab her shoulders and move her away from me so I can look her in the eye. “I would . . . I’d have killed him, Bree. If he—”

She pushes me backward before I can finish. “That’s insulting, Gray. That you don’t think I can take care of myself.”

How did I think, even for a moment, that she could be a Forgery? They are far more calculated and logical and precise, and here she is, yelling at me because I’d kill for her.

“I know you can take care of yourself,” I say. “But that doesn’t mean I’d stand here and do nothing if you needed help. I’d never force you to fight on your own.”

“I’m strongest on my own,” she says, her eyes narrowed. “You know, I can’t believe I actually shed tears over you that night on the beach. You are such a liar. You
are
making me fight on my own. You have been since the very beginning, and even when I fight for us, you don’t see it, because of Emma. And then when you do see it, it’s in these small moments that never last and it kills me. I can’t do it anymore. I’m on my own team from now on. I won’t let you make me weak.”

She means it. I can see it on her face, in her stance. She’s leaning toward me just slightly, hands clenched in fists. The holding cell may have numbed her, but now that she’s free, she’s raging again. I don’t know what to say. I’ve never known how to handle her in these states, in these moments that she’s on fire.

Behind me, Sammy breaks the silence.

“Cried?” he asks doubtfully. “I don’t believe it, Nox! You’re human after all.”

“Sammy, I will beat you to a pulp,” she snaps. Her eyes drift to the blood on my hands. “Let’s just get back to the others. I doubt we’re welcome here anymore.”

And then she knocks her shoulder against my chest as she passes by.

I hurry after her and take the lead because she has no clue where she’s going. Sammy mumbles something about my priorities and I block him out. I can’t deal with his criticisms now. Or Bree, who’s not making sense. What’s most important is getting out of the tunnels and back to the Wall and deciding on our next step: head west and try to engage the Expats as Ryder suggested, or start trekking home, failures.

When we reach the stairs near Titus’s room, an odd sound breaks out overhead. An intense humming, like a hundred birds caught in a storm, their wings beating against a howling wind. The noise dies out abruptly and a moment later there is an amplified voice.

“Gray Weathersby!” Marco. Aboveground. Calling for me. “You will show yourself or the remains of this town will be destroyed as quickly as we sunk your puny ship.”

Clipper’s work with Burg’s cameras was noticed after all. Frank must have been alerted, Marco called in to investigate. Given how quickly he arrived, he probably
was
waiting for us along the borderlines, just as Clipper suspected.

“I don’t buy it,” Sammy says. “He’s not going to destroy anything. They won’t waste supplies when they think this place is dead.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “They know we’re here.”

Marco’s voice booms again above us. “We found your friends beyond the Wall. The men are dead. If you don’t want your medic in the same state, you will show yourself.”

Time seems to slow.

They can’t be dead. Bo finally broke free of a life in Frank’s prisons just months ago. And Xavier taught me to hunt, to gut and skin my game, to set traps and snares. How is it possible that these two men are gone?

“He could be lying,” Bree warns.

But I can’t take that risk, and Marco knows it. There is only one option. Just like when we were on the
Catherine
, the Order has pushed us into a corner of their choosing.

I move toward the stairs and Bree grabs my arm. “Don’t. It’s a trap.”

“We’re trapped as it is.”

“I’ll come with you.”

Her eyes are softer now, filled with worry. How ironic for her to suddenly care, to no longer be furious with me. I shake her off.

“I’m stronger on my own, too.”

These are her words, echoed back with anger and spite. I know they aren’t true, but I say them anyway, just to watch her face go blank. I need her to know how ridiculous it feels to hear that lie.

“I’m going up,” I tell the team. “Sammy, see if you can find Bleak. He’s my age, dark skin, nearly the only guy I’ve seen who keeps his head shaved. He seems to want a better life for himself
and
the people here, so tell him what’s happening. Make sure he gets everyone somewhere safe. They need to stay hidden.

“And Clipper, the radio’s still with the other gear in the boiler room. Try to get in touch with Bo and Xavier. Maybe Marco’s lying and they can help.”

Clipper looks panicked. “I don’t think—”

“Just try.”

“And the rest of us?” Jackson asks.

“What? He’s on our side now?” Bree looks shocked.

“You’re out of the loop, Nox,” Sammy says. “Shut up and listen.”

But I don’t know what order to give. “Just do whatever you think is right. So long as it doesn’t include following me.”

Clipper and Sammy race down the hallway.

“I’ll be as quick as I can,” I say to Bree and Jackson. “We’ll meet in the Room of Whistles and Whirs. Tell the others.”

“I could help if you just let me,” Bree calls as I take the stairs two at a time.

But I keep climbing.

And I don’t look back.

THIRTY

IT’S SNOWING AGAIN, FREEZING COLD,
and there are too many clouds for the moon to effectively light the land. The world is obscured by darkness save for a single light source ahead, barely penetrating the downpour of flakes.

I move toward it, feeling my way along the alley walls. The light is coming from a massive vehicle sitting just before the gallows, illuminating the ground around it in a gleaming ring. It looks like a wingless plane, vaguely similar to the metal birds I saw AmWest fly over Taem when I ran from Frank. This model stands on planklike feet, its body bulbous and proud. There are two more behind it, only they don’t have their lights on. I squint, trying to take in more details, and notice the units
do
have wings. They are overhead, and numerous—more like a dragonfly than a bird. These must be helicopters. I read about them in some documentation about the Laicos Project. Something about this particular type of flying contraption makes it easiest for the Order to move over the Wall.

A figure moves, backlit by the helicopter’s light. Marco. Even with the poor visibility, there’s no mistaking that massive beard of his. A pair of Order members flank him. He raises something to his lips and then his voice is thundering through the evening.

“I have someone who wants to talk to you, Gray. Someone who wants you to know how important it is that you don’t waste any more of my time.”

I think I know what he means, and then I hear her voice, amplified.

“They’re dead, Gray,” Emma says. She sounds brave, her voice surprisingly steady. “Xavier and Bo. The Order didn’t even hesitate when they took the shots.”

I swallow, trying to push a knot out of my throat. There’s an amplified sob from Emma, and whatever courage she was channeling just seconds earlier is gone.

“Please,” she begs. “No. Please don’t do this.”

I realize she is no longer talking to me but to whoever is with her on the other side of the Wall.

Marco starts counting. “Five . . .”

Emma is sobbing now.

“Four . . .”

They won’t do it. They can’t.

“Three . . .”

I race forward.

“Two . . .”

“Wait!” I yell, spilling into the light of the helicopters. “I’m here.”

A gunshot sounds in the distance.

I go rigid.

“Gray,” Marco says. “I’m so glad you could join us.”

“I showed myself! I came and you—”

“We gave you plenty of time. She didn’t need to die, but you cut it too close.
You
killed her.”

I sink to my knees, oblivious to the cold sting of the snow. I should want to strangle him, attack him, beat him until he begs for mercy, but I’m empty. First my father. Then Bo and Xavier. And now . . .

I can’t think it. Can’t even bring myself to admit she’s gone.

One of the Order members checks me for weapons. “He’s unarmed.”

“Good,” Marco says. He grabs me by the collar and hoists me to my feet. “Let’s go for a walk.”

I’m led into a ruined building by Marco, who leaves two guards stationed outside.

“Why stop here?” he asks. “You were trying to cross into enemy territory, were you not?” Even though he stands right in front of me, I can barely see him through the thickness of night.

“Why would I tell you anything?” I manage to say. “You killed her. You have no more leverage to use against me.”

“I don’t think that’s entirely accurate. If you want to ensure the safety of the rest of your team, you will cooperate.”

“They’re dead. Drowned with the
Catherine
. I’m the only one left.”