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Page 41

“Run or crawl?” I asked.

Becky let out a quiet, wheezy laugh. “They both sound so great.”

“I can carry you.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. I vote run.”

We took off. It wasn’t far, but it felt awful—exposed and dangerous. Becky was beside me the whole way, ignoring the pain in her arm as she ran at full speed. We both hit the adobe, falling into a crouch along the base of the wall.

I moved to the nearest window and peered in. The room was empty, but I could see through the door to the courtyard beyond. A few guys were standing and talking. A girl sat on the boardwalk, getting feedback.

“They’re awake again,” I whispered to Becky. “Iceman must have left.”

We crept around the side of the fort, cautiously watching and listening. No one on the road, no one by the trees or down by the ford.

I gulped a deep breath and then took Becky by the hand. We stood, turned the corner of the fort, and ran for the front door.

Everyone looked at us as we entered, murmurs bouncing around the courtyard, but we didn’t stop. Becky led the way to Carrie’s room, throwing the door open. No one was inside.

I slid the bed over to the wall, and in a moment Becky was up in the Basement.

“I’m going to find the others,” I said.

Becky frowned, looking down at me. “Can’t you wait?”

“I’ll be right back. It’s okay. They’re gone.”

I hopped to the floor and pushed the bed away from the wall. Becky watched me from the hole.

“Hey,” she said as I touched the doorknob.

“Yeah?”

She smiled. “Hurry back.”

“Three minutes, tops.”

Becky pulled the panel into place, and I rehung the torn mural hiding the Basement entrance. I stepped outside.

Everyone was staring at me.

I crossed the courtyard to where Mouse was sitting. Harvard was beside her on the bench, grinning and dazed.

“You’re alive,” she said. Her face was red, angry.

“What happened?”

She shook her head. I noticed she had a scrape on her cheek, probably from where she fell when the implant immobilized her.

“What was the dust?” I asked.

Mouse snorted in disgust. “You didn’t see?”

“No. Just saw dust.”

“They flattened the commissary. Bulldozed the whole thing, one big heap of rubble.”

“What?” That was it. Our attack was over.

“They’ll be trucking the food in now.”

“Did they say why?”

Her eyes, which had been darting around the courtyard, focused on me. “No. But I imagine we have you to thank?”

I shook my head and turned to leave. Our plan was destroyed. I’d have to go out through the forest.

I headed for the barn. I needed to find Shelly and the others. Had Maxfield punished them for being involved?

“Where are you going?” Mouse called after me.

“Why do you care?”

The last thing I wanted was to stay in that fort and talk to Mouse and her cronies. I jogged down the road, ducking through the trees and crossing the stream. All the rocks were out of place, the ford now a mass of mud and debris where the bulldozer had plowed through. I had to step in the water, but I didn’t care. I had other things on my mind.

The air was still laced with dust as I climbed the bank and saw what was left of the commissary.

They hadn’t flattened it, like Mouse had said. It was just the back, where the elevator had been. They knew what we were planning, and they were sending a message.

There were people all around, some staring at the demolition, others sitting down getting feedback. The school had to be in full swing, and emotional—they were probably seeing all the new kids coming. There would be fights and crying and arguing. And the school was kidnapping now, too; at least when I showed up there was some pretense that Maxfield was a good thing.

I left the commissary, jogging through the crowd to the barn. No one was outside, and when I jumped up to the door I saw it was empty. Had they been taken?

I wasn’t worried now. I was mad. The message Maxfield sent today wasn’t to anyone else—it was to us, to me. They knew I was here. They could do whatever they wanted, and I couldn’t stop them.

I ran up the steps of the nearest barrack and looked in.

“Anyone seen Shelly?”

Nothing but shaking heads.

I hopped down and ran to the next. I was about to ask again, but Gabby was right inside the door.

“You’re okay!” she said, jumping up and hugging me. I could see Shelly over Gabby’s shoulder, wrapping a bandage around someone’s head.

“I’m okay.”

“What about Becky?”

“She’s fine—”

We all heard it at once. It was impossible to ignore. Engines. Lots of them.

I looked out the door just in time to see someone on a four-wheeler zipping in across the field. I heard others.

There was a thud behind me, and then another and another. Gabby fell, knocking against me before she smacked her head on the floor.

It was a trap.

They must have seen us come back. They knew we would, and they left spies.

I jumped down. The four-wheeler I’d seen wasn’t heading toward me. It was on a direct course for the ford. It was going to cross the stream. It was going to the fort.

No.

The work site was just across the road, and I darted to the wheelbarrow and grabbed the best weapon I could find—a square-ended shovel. It was old and heavy, with a wood handle and a steel blade. I ran for the stream.

It had been Mouse. She’d tried to get me to stay at the fort, asked me where I was going. She and all her friends had new coats, new wood to fix the place up. She’d sold us out.

The road was littered with paralyzed bodies, and I jumped over them as I chased the four-wheeler. Iceman hadn’t seen me yet. He was trying to negotiate the freshly churned mud and water. One wheel caught a rock and spun.

I never slowed. I drew back, the shovel over my shoulder like a baseball bat, and I swung midstride. The shovel hit him squarely in the head, launching him off the ATV and into the stream. For a moment he didn’t move, and by the time he did it was too late. I brought the sharp blade down on his neck. There was a bright spark as his head separated from his body. His arms and legs flailed for a moment, and then stopped.

I charged up the bank, the sound of engines still all around me. I paused at the top, hidden in the bushes.

Both trucks were there, parked at the fort, and another four-wheeler.

Becky screamed—loud for an instant, and then silence.

I ran for the door. There had to be at least three androids inside the fort, one for each vehicle. I didn’t know whether I could take them all with my shovel, but I couldn’t let them get Becky. I couldn’t.

I’d made it to the front of the lead truck when Ms. Vaughn appeared at the gate. She saw me immediately, and drew her Taser. I was still too far away for her to get a shot, and I kept the truck between us.

Iceman came out next, Becky slung over his shoulder, as unconscious as the paralyzed students. She was bleeding from her forehead.

Ms. Vaughn called to him, and Iceman looked over at me. He dropped Becky roughly in the back of the truck, but instead of joining Ms. Vaughn in the fight he climbed in the cab and started the engine.

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