“I thought we could count on her vote,” Natalie whispers. “I guess we don’t know who to trust.”
I look behind me. The two Sentry guards who were following us are still nearby, watching me.
The next few dozen votes go like this, with people visibly shaking as they hurry to drop their ballot papers into the YES box. I look up at the screen: 48 YES; 0 NO.
“Fragging hell,” Beetle mutters under his breath.
“Hang on,” Natalie says.
James and Hilary Madden from Firebird radio walk up the steps to the platform.
I take a deep breath, and Natalie gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.
They fold their ballot papers and walk toward Sebastian. James flashes a look in our direction, and there’s a cold gleam in his eyes. In that moment, I know we’ve lost them. They veer to the right and drop their ballot slips into the YES box.
Beetle swears loudly. “Those traitors. I bet they were the ones who stole our weapons! They should be hanged!”
I swallow a hard lump in my throat. Will he want to hang me as well? I think Beetle’s suspicions are right, though. As prominent members of Humans for Unity, James and Hilary have full access to all areas of the Legion ghetto, including the weapons store. They defiantly walk down the steps, their heads held high.
Beetle spits on James as he passes by, and the man turns, swinging a fist at Beetle, missing him by a hair’s breadth. It all happens so quickly: James and Beetle start fighting, throwing wild punches at each other. Day and Hilary try to pull them apart, but they get knocked to the ground as more people join the fray. Two people soon turn into twenty. Fists fly, and people are pushed and shoved. In the melee, James and Hilary manage to flee. Flashbacks to the riot two months ago crash into my mind. I can’t let this happen again! I rush onto the stage and grab Juno’s microphone.
“STOP!” I yell at the top of my lungs.
My voice reverberates around the town square. Everyone is deathly silent. Thankfully, the fighting stops immediately.
Thousands of faces stare up at me from the crowd, reminding me of the day I was crucified. My mouth suddenly feels dry, and I can almost taste the acacia fumes. Not now . . . I lick my dry lips, and start to speak.
“We’re here to vote, not to fight,” I say. “Don’t resort to bloodshed and undermine what we’re trying to achieve today. The government may think it’s acceptable to intimidate us with their guns and their soldiers”—I slide a look at Sebastian, who glowers at me—“but that is not our way. We will not be governed by fear.”
A lone voice calls out across the crowd. “No fear, no power!”
The chant is picked up by another person, then another, just like on the day of my crucifixion. Soon the whole city is chanting, “NO FEAR, NO POWER!”
I should be happy. This is exactly what the rebels wanted, but I can barely breathe. It’s precisely the thing Rose wanted to avoid. I’m meant to be showing my unwavering support of him. If I don’t . . . I glance from Natalie to the two guards standing a short distance behind her. They’re going to cut her up. There’s still a chance to make this right.
I take out my ballot paper. Never has a slip of paper felt so heavy in my hand.
I shut my eyes.
Vote yes and save Natalie.
Vote no and save twenty million people.
My heart hammers. Everyone in the nation is watching me now, waiting to see what I’ll do, including Purian Rose.
Natalie.
Twenty million people.
The girl I love.
Twenty million people.
There was never a choice.
I slip my vote into the ballot box.
“Ash Fisher votes no to Rose’s Law,” Juno reports to the camera.
I look at Natalie down in the crowd, and my heart splinters into a million pieces. I’m so sorry.
The rebels cheer, but I barely hear them as I sprint off the stage and grab her hand.
“We need to leave the city,” I say to her in a rush.
She raises a brow at me. “What? Now?”
The two Sentry guards are still behind her.
“Yes, now. Let’s just go,” I say.
I have no idea how I’ll get her past all the guards, but somehow I need to get her to safety.
She looks at the line of people forming at the podium steps. “What’s gotten into you? We’re in the middle of the ballot.”
“I don’t care,” I say urgently. “We need to leave.”
“I can’t leave Polly, plus I want to vote.”
I let out a frustrated sigh. She’s right, of course. I haven’t thought this through.
A crease forms between her pale brows. “You’re frightening me, Ash. What’s going on?”
I scan the crowd behind her again. The guards are nowhere to be seen. Where did they go? Maybe Purian Rose ordered them not to take her here, since we’re being filmed? I figure as long as we’re near the cameras, we’re safe.
“Nothing,” I say, leading her closer to the stage so we’re in the shot. “Everything’s fine. I’m just jumpy with all these guards around.”
She studies me for a moment, clearly concerned. I kiss her cheek.
“Everything’s fine,” I say again.
“I should go vote,” she says, her hand slipping through mine.
I keep an eye out for the guards as Natalie walks up the steps, ignoring the cold look from Sebastian. She casts her vote in the NO box, then joins me again. The line moves forward, and one by one, the citizens of Black City move up to the stage. They don’t seem as scared as before. Some of them even dare to look Sebastian in the eye as they drop their ballot papers into the NO box. The numbers soon start shifting, the nos overtaking the yeses. Beetle grins at me. I cast a look at Sigur, who is still standing on the Boundary Wall. He gives me a slight nod of approval.
The votes start coming in from the lesser cities around Black River State, and the nos come in thick and fast. Ember Creek, a quaint harbor town on the east coast of the state, is the last city to vote. Their polling station has been set up on a scenic promenade surrounded by market stalls selling fishing supplies. Hundreds of people are crammed onto the promenade, and they’ve all turned to face the camera, their expressions fierce, defiant. The footage quickly cuts back to February Fields, but not before everyone has heard the citizens of Ember Creek chant “No fear, no power!” at the top of their lungs.
It doesn’t take long for the voting to finish, since Black River State is one of the least populated areas in the country, after millions were killed during the war. I stare at the results on the digital screens, not quite believing it. February Fields appears on the monitors, her smile wavering and forced.
“The final votes are in for Black River State,” she says. “The state votes no.”
There are cheers and whoops of joy in the town square. Everyone is celebrating except me.
“Now the Provinces will vote,” February Fields announces.
This sobers everyone up quickly. We may have won over Black River State, but if no other states follow us, then everything we achieved today will be for nothing. Over the next few hours, we watch with apprehension as the votes come in from the final states:The Provinces—No.
The Barren Lands—Yes.
The Emerald State—No.
Mountain Wolf State—Yes.
Golden Sands—No.
“Well, isn’t this exciting? The vote is tied,” February Fields says, her girlish voice a little strained. “Four states vote in favor of Rose’s Law, and four against. And finally, the Copper State!”
Everything rests on this last vote.
The screens cut to footage of Emissary Vincent, a thin black woman in her midfifties, with a severe haircut that accentuates the hard angles of her face. She’s standing in front of a wall similar to our Boundary Wall, except theirs is made from steel and brass, not concrete.
All I can do is watch helplessly as the woman strides up to her polling station, which has been set up similarly to ours. She briefly pauses, allowing the press to take her photo before walking toward the YES box. It’s like watching an accident; you know it’s going to happen, but you can’t stop looking.
Then she does something no one expects.
She turns sharply to the left and slips her ballot paper into the NO box.
There’s a pregnant pause as everyone in the town square stares at the screen in disbelief.
Emissary Vincent turns to look at the cameras, addressing the nation.
“Citizens of the Copper State, I urge you to—”
The live feed cuts out, and all the monitors turn black.
7.
NATALIE
THE WHOLE CITY is in pandemonium, everyone wondering what’s going on.
“What happened to the feed?” Roach calls up to Juno, who is still filming up on the stage.
“Someone’s jamming our signal. We can’t broadcast anything,” Juno replies.
A graphic suddenly appears on the monitors, with the words We are experiencing a technical difficulty. Be back soon!
“Technical difficulty, my ass,” Juno mutters.
“I can’t believe Emissary Vincent voted against Rose,” Day says, bewildered.
“She’s always stood up to him,” Natalie says. “Emissary Vincent cares about all people, not just the Sentry. My mother thought it made her weak.”
“If she’s flipped sides, this is great for the cause!” Beetle says. “She runs all the munitions factories, and without weapons, he has no power.”
Before we can discuss it any further, the monitors spark back to life, and February Fields’s face appears on the screens. She breaks out into a smile, but it doesn’t reach her sea-green eyes.
“Citizens, our apologies for that short technical glitch. Oh, the perils of live broadcasting,” she says, as if it were just some innocent mistake. “Thank you, Emissary Vincent, for that rousing speech. And now back to the Copper State to continue with the voting.”
Emissary Vincent is nowhere to be seen, and is it my imagination, or have the television cameras moved position? A young man hurries onto the stage, casting his eyes toward something offscreen. He drops his ballot paper in the YES box. Beetle curses loudly. An elderly woman is called up next. Her eyes also flash toward something hidden just out of view. I squint at the monitor as a dark smudge appears in the bottom right corner of the screen—it wasn’t there a moment before. The television camera pans slightly to the left, and the smudge disappears, but not before I’ve worked out what it was.
Blood.
I gasp. “Ash . . .”
He’s seen it too.
“You don’t think . . . ?” It’s too horrible to say.
He nods. “They shot her.”
* * *
We lose the Copper State. It’s over. We’ve lost.
“And there we have it, citizens!” February Fields says brightly when it’s all done. “The results are in, and the nation votes in favor of Rose’s Law, five to four.”
The screens cut to footage of each of the state capitals, where people are cheering and clapping wildly. A victory party is happening outside Rose’s palace in Centrum, with elaborate decorations and dancers in glimmering outfits performing in the city square. They must’ve been planning this tableau for weeks. I notice that SBN news skips over the Copper State in their little montage of victory celebrations.
The national anthem plays, and the broadcast ends on a graphic of a stern-looking blond boy and girl, accompanied by the words ONE RACE. ONE FAITH. ONE NATION UNDER HIS MIGHTY.
Sigur and Garrick leave the Boundary Wall, returning to the ghetto on the other side. A moment later, there is a terrible sound as thousands of Darklings wail in grief. Ash shuts his eyes, a pained expression on his face.
“You did everything you could for them,” I whisper.
“It wasn’t enough,” he says quietly.
“What are we going to do now?” I say.
“The only thing we can do—get ready to fight and defend the ghetto,” Roach says. “We’ll hold the Sentry off for as long as we can, but it’s not going to be easy without our stockpile of weapons.”
We all look at each other, thinking the same thing: how are we going to protect the Darklings from the full might of Purian Rose’s forces? We weren’t prepared for this. Until yesterday, we thought Rose’s Law was just about keeping the Darklings segregated, not shipping them—and millions of others—off to the Tenth, to be enslaved and exterminated.
“Fight or die trying, right?” Beetle mutters.
Roach goes to talk to Juno, along with the other adults, while I hug Ash, trying to remain calm while the reality of what this means crashes over me. As a twin-blood, Ash will be sent to the Tenth along with the rest of the Darklings. It’s only a matter of time before the Sentry guards start shipping everyone out. How long do we have? A month? A week? A day?
“It was all for nothing,” Ash whispers.
“No it wasn’t,” I say. “We stood up for what was right.”
Ash brushes his fingertips across my cheek, his eyes dark with grief.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.
My brow furrows. “You did everything you could.”
Sebastian smirks as he walks over to us. I can’t believe I ever kissed those toxic lips. He fixes his gaze on Ash.
“So you voted no?” Sebastian shakes his head. “I honestly thought you cared for Natalie more than that. Guess I was wrong.”
What does Sebastian mean?
Ash takes a protective step toward me. “If you touch her, I’ll—”
“What?” Sebastian quirks a brow.