Champion

“The Colonies have much to offer you,” I say, my voice growing stronger. “Their ships are now in our skies. It will not be long before you see Colonies banners flying above your children’s schools and over your homes. People of the Republic, I have one final message for you, before you and I say farewell to each other.”

It’s time. My legs tense, and my feet shift ever so slightly. The Chancellor looks on.

“The Republic is weak and broken.” I narrow my eyes. “But it is still your country. Fight for it. This is your home, not theirs.”

In the same moment that I see the Chancellor’s enraged expression, I spring from where I’m standing and kick at the glass as hard as I can. Colonies soldiers rush toward me. My boots hit the window—the explosives embedded in my soles give two brief pops, sending tremors through my feet. The glass shatters.

And now I’m midair, sailing through the open space. My arms whip up and grab the top edge of the broken windowpane. A bullet zips by. The Chancellor’s furious shout rises up from inside. Guess they’re not going to try keeping me alive after that. All my adrenaline rushes forward in a flood of heat.

I shimmy up and out into the evening air. No time to waste. My cap threatens to blow off—I hang out the window for a second and try to adjust it more snugly onto my head. Last thing I need right now is to have my hair blowing around like a beacon for anyone on the ground to see. When the gusts die down a bit, I pull myself completely out and cling to the window frame. I look up, gauging the distance to the next window. Then I jump. My hands grab on to the bottom ledge of the frame, and with difficulty, I manage to pull myself up. I grunt from the effort. Never would’ve had a problem with this a year ago.

When I’ve hopped to a fourth window, I hear the faint sound of something popping. Then, the first explosion.

A tremor runs deep through the entire airship, nearly shaking loose my grip, and when I glance down, I see a ball of orange and gray explode from where the airship is docked to its pyramid base. The Patriots are making their move. A second explosion follows—this time the airship creaks slightly, tilting to the east. Gritting my teeth, I pick up speed. One of my feet slips against a window frame at the same time a gust of wind blows by—I almost lose my balance. For a second my leg dangles precariously. “C’mon,” I scold myself. “You call this a run?” Then I throw one arm up as far as I can and manage to catch the next window before my legs give way completely. The effort triggers a dull flash of pain at the back of my head. I wince. No, not now. Anytime but now. But it’s no use. I feel the headache coming. If I get hit with it right now, I’ll be in so much pain that I’ll plummet to my death for sure. Desperately, I climb faster. My feet slip again on the topmost window. I manage to catch myself at the last second, then grab the ledge of the upper deck as my headache explodes in full force.

Blinding white pain. I dangle there, clinging on for dear life, fighting against the agony that threatens to pull me under. Two more explosions follow the first couple in rapid succession, and now the airship creaks and groans. It tries to launch, firing away from the base, but all it manages to do is shudder. If the Chancellor gets his hands on me now, he’ll kill me himself. Somewhere far away, I hear a siren sound—soldiers on the upper deck must know by now that I’m heading there, and they’ll be ready for me.

My breaths come in short gasps. Open your eyes, I command myself. You have to open them. Through a blurry veil of tears, I see a glimpse of the upper deck and soldiers running. Their shouts ring out across the deck. For an instant, I lose my memory again of where I am, what I’m doing, what my mission is. The unfamiliarity makes my stomach heave, and I have to keep myself from throwing up. Think, Day. You’ve been in bad situations before. My memory blurs. What did I need up here again? Finally I clear my mind—I need some way to swing down to the bottom of the ship. Then I remember the sleek metal chain railings lining the edge of the deck, and my original plan—my eyes swivel up to the nearest chain. With enormous effort, I reach out and grab at it. I miss the first time. The soldiers see me now, and several of them run in my direction. I grit my teeth and try again.

This time I reach the chain. I grab it with both hands, then yank down. The chain pops free from its hooks. I throw myself off the side of the ship—and let myself fall. I hope to hell this chain can support my weight. There’s a chorus of pops as the chain snaps free of hooks on both sides, sending me down at dizzying speed. The pain in my head threatens to weaken my grip. I hang on with every shred of strength that I have. My hair billows around me, and I realize my cap must’ve fallen off. Down, down, down I fall. The world zips past me at the speed of light. Through the rushing wind, my head slowly clears.

Suddenly one side of the chain snaps loose right as I reach the bottom of the ship. A lungful of air escapes me as I’m vaulted to one side. I manage to grab the remaining chain with both hands and hang on tightly as I swing along the bottom side of the ship. The pyramid base is almost close enough under my feet for me to jump, but I’m going way too fast. I swing closer to the side of the ship, then scrape the heels of my boots hard against the steel. There’s a loud, long screech. My boots finally find traction—the force spins me from my swing and sends me twirling. I fight to steady myself. Before I can, though, the chain finally breaks and I tumble onto the outside of the pyramid base.

The impact knocks all the wind out of me. I skid against the smooth, slanted walls for a few seconds, until my boots catch against the surface and I stop there, bruised and limp, convinced soldiers are going to fill me with bullets as I lie vulnerable against the pyramid. Pascao and the others will know by now that I’ve made my move, and they’ll be setting off the bombs all along the naval bases. I better get off this thing before I’m burnt to a crisp. That thought fills my mind and gives me the strength to pull myself up. I slide down the side as fast as I can—below, I can already see Colonies soldiers rushing to stop me. A sense of hopelessness stabs me. There’s no way in hell I’ll get past all of them in time. Still, I keep moving. I have to get away from the explosion site.

I’m several dozen yards from the bottom. Soldiers are clambering up to seize me. I tense up, push myself up into a crouch, and quickly move sideways against the slanted base. I’m not going to make it.

The instant this crosses my mind, the two final explosions go off under the airship.

A huge roar above me shakes the earth, and when I glance behind me, I see an enormous fireball rise up from where the airship is docked with the top of the base. All along the naval base, orange flames burst from every single pyramid dock. They’ve gone off in unison. The result is absolutely jaw-dropping. Quickly I glance back to the soldiers who were chasing me—they’ve paused, shocked by what they’re witnessing. Another deafening burst of flame erupts above us and the tremors knock everyone off their feet. I struggle to stabilize myself against the slanted wall. Move, move, move! I stagger down the last few yards of the base’s wall and fall to my knees on the ground. The world spins. All I can hear are the shouts of soldiers and the roar of the infernos lighting up the naval bases.

Hands grab me. I struggle, but I have no more strength left. Suddenly they drop me and I hear a familiar voice at my side. I turn in surprise. Who is this? Pascao. His name is Pascao.

His bright gray eyes crinkle at me—he grabs my hand and urges me to run. “Nice to see you alive. Let’s keep it that way.”

FROM THE BANK TOWER IN DOWNTOWN LA, I CAN SEE the giant plumes of orange flame lighting up the naval bases along the coast. The blasts are enormous, illuminating the edge of the sky with blinding light and echoing through the air, the force shaking the glass windows of the tower as I look on. Hospital staff mill around me in a scene of commotion. The lab teams are prepping both Tess and Eden for evacuation.

A call comes in from Pascao. “I’ve got Day,” he shouts. “Meet us outside.”

My knees turn weak with relief. He’s alive. He made it. I peek inside Tess’s room, where she’s being secured to a wheelchair, and give her a thumbs-up. She brightens, even in her weakened state. Outside the tower, I see the shadow engulfing our building begin to move—the Colonies airship hovering overhead is heading away from us to join into battle. As if our explosions have unsettled a nest of wasps, dozens of Colonies fighter jets are taking off from its deck as well as the decks of the distant, crippled airships, their shapes forming squadrons in the sky. Republic jets meet them in midair.

Hurry, Antarctica. Please.

I rush off the lab floor and down the stairs to the lobby of the Bank Tower. There’s chaos everywhere. Republic soldiers hurry past me in a blur of motion, while several gather at the front doors to prevent anyone else from getting inside. “This hospital is off limits!” one barks. “Bring the injured across the street—we are evacuating!” The screens lining the hall show scenes of Republic soldiers clashing with Colonies troops in the streets—and, to my surprise, Republic civilians wielding whatever weapons they can find and joining in to push the Colonies back. Fires burn along the roads. At the bottom of every screen in bold, menacing letters is the scrolling text: ALL REPUBLIC SOLDIERS TO BREAK SURRENDER. ALL REPUBLIC SOLDIERS TO BREAK SURRENDER. I cringe at the scene, even though this is exactly what we had planned for.

Outside, the noise of battle deafens me. Fighter jets roar past us overhead, while others hover directly over the Bank Tower, prepared to defend the tallest building in LA if—when—the Colonies try to attack. I see similar formations over other prominent downtown buildings. “Come on, Day,” I mutter, scanning the streets nearby for signs of his bright hair, or of Pascao’s pale eyes. A deep tremor shakes the ground. Another ball of orange flame explodes behind several rows of buildings, then a pair of Colonies jets zoom by, followed closely by a Republic plane. The sound is so loud that I press both hands to my ears until they’ve passed.

“June?” Pascao’s voice comes over my mike, but I can barely hear him. “We’re almost here. Where are you?”

“In front of the Bank Tower,” I shout over the noise.

“We’ve gotta evacuate,” he replies immediately. “Getting some feedback from our Hackers—the Colonies are aiming to attack the building within the hour—”

As if on cue, a Colonies jet screams by, and an instant later, an enormous explosion goes off at the very top of the Bank Tower. Soldiers all around me let out shouts of warning as glass falls from the highest floors. I jump backward into the safety of the building’s entrance. Debris rains down in a thunderous storm, crushing jeeps and shattering into a million pieces.

“June?” Pascao’s voice comes back on, clearly alarmed now. “June—are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” I shout back. “I’ll help with evacuations once I see you. See you soon!” Then I hang up.

Three minutes later, I finally spot Day and Pascao staggering toward the Bank Tower against the tide of civilians escaping the area and soldiers rushing to defend the streets. They stumble through the debris. I rush from the entrance toward Day, who’s leaning heavily against Pascao’s good shoulder.