by Lu, Marie
His guards all still at the sight.
“Back away from her!” I shout at them as I nod toward Pressa’s kneeling figure. “Drop your weapons!”
In my grasp, Hann laughs. Only now can I tell that he’s noticeably weaker than I remember him from the last time I saw him. Either he didn’t avoid Pressa’s serum as well as he claimed, or his illness has worsened significantly. Perhaps it’s both.
“Well,” he says. “Thank goodness you’ve got some surprises left in you.”
A sharp elbow strikes me hard in the chin. Stars burst in my vision—I’m forced to release him. He still moves faster than I can. He whirls around, seizes my arm, and locks it into a hold. I barely manage to twist out of his grasp, but he knocks the gun from my hand. It clatters to the floor.
He reaches down for it. In the same moment, I take the chip and swipe all its data onto the platform’s system.
The entire web of nodes flashes in a ripple of scarlet. I allow myself a grim, satisfied smile. Hann’s system shudders, corrupted, then deletes. Almost immediately, I see virtual markers reappear over Pressa’s head, over Dominic Hann himself, over his guards—the city’s original system has reset.
This is the only thing that buys me some time. Dominic Hann freezes, shocked at the sight of his system undone. I don’t wait for his reaction beyond that. I’m already sprinting toward Pressa, who has managed to struggle to her feet. In the chaos of the moment, I grab her hand and yank her forward with me. I chance a single glance over my shoulder.
Daniel’s no longer where he was crouched by the window. If he’s here, then he might have already alerted the AIS as to where we are. The troops should be arriving soon. Hann’s eyes are trained on me now, and the fury in them sends a wave of terror through me. I turn around and run faster.
“Hang in there,” I say breathlessly to Pressa.
She just clenches her jaw and fights to keep pace with me. “I’ve had worse,” she replies.
A bullet pings behind us. I duck instinctively as we round a corner of one hall. Behind us come the shouts of Hann’s guards. I stoop for a second, frantically gathering my thoughts. We have to hold out until the reinforcements arrive.
Suddenly, a popping sound comes from the ceiling. I glance up to see artificial misters all turn on in unison, filling the space with a thick fog. It’s the building’s original fire retardant, meant to put out fires in this maze of computers without damaging the systems with water. The mist is so dense that it settles onto us like a blanket. I can barely see Pressa beside me. Around us, the guards shout in frustration. An alarm begins to blare.
I smile a little. Daniel must have set it off.
Pressa taps me. In the thick fog, an emergency light has turned on, its searing green light cutting through the veil of mist at the far end of the building. “An exit,” she whispers to me.
I nod. “Come on,” I urge, taking her hand again. Where’s Daniel? Can he see us through all this?
We dash through the gray mist, keeping our hands out against the computers to guide us. I feel a surge of panic at how blind we are—the murky surroundings, the shouts in the air—it all reminds me of the Colonies’ final attack. Of my stumbling through the mist, calling out my brother’s name. My heart pounds against my chest. I force it down, trying to tell myself that I’m not back there.
Another bullet sparks against a computer near us. We both cringe, falling to our knees. They’re getting closer to us.
Then suddenly—I hear a startled yell, followed by a sharp crack that must be to someone’s head. Daniel. Had they gotten him? I look behind us, trying to see through the fog, but can’t make anything out. Another loud crack, followed by a scuffle.
Then, out of the mist, materializes a familiar face covered in a black half-mask and a cap. My brother’s blue eyes meet ours.
“They’re on their way,” he says to me before he bends down and helps me hoist Pressa back onto her feet. She hisses in pain.
It’s all I can do to not break down in front of Daniel. He’s here. He’s come for me. I start to say something back, but a ripple of gunfire behind us forces all of us to drop again to our knees. The bullets ping hard against the computers.
“They’re coming from the side,” Daniel says to us in a rush. “They’re cutting us off from the exit.”
“Where do we go?” Pressa gasps out.
Daniel glances up, where a lattice of steps snakes upward onto a metal walkway. “Up,” he replies. “We’re going to draw them away from you. Make a run for it. Do you understand?”
She looks ready to argue, but Daniel’s eyes are the color of steel. She decides against it, then folds her lips into a grim line and nods.
Daniel looks at me. “Remember our climb?” he asks.
I nod without a word.
“Good.” With one leap, he pulls himself onto the top of the computer shelves, then reaches down for me with a hand. “Then let’s go.”
I take his hand and haul myself up. Down below, Pressa crouches, facing the direction of the exit. Daniel glances toward where the shadows of guards can be seen darting through the fog. He nods at me and forms a foothold with his hands.
I take a few steps, then step up with his help and reach for the first stair railing I can. My fingers close around one of the metal banisters. I haul myself up. As I go, Daniel comes beside me, moving easily through the fog.
Bullets spark below us. I hope they’re not aiming for Pressa. She’s already invisible to me in the mist.
I pull myself over the first railing and hop up for the next one. Daniel’s up before me and reaching down to help me. I climb up and over the second stair railing. Now we can look out at the shrouded warehouse. Above us is the walkway that leads along the top of the building before curving back down toward the exit.
We’re almost there. On the other side, beyond the exit door, is the Antarctican army. June.
“Come on,” Daniel urges me. We rush up the last flight of stairs until we reach the edge of the walkway suspended above the rest of the building.
That’s where I freeze.
Standing at the other end of the walkway is Dominic Hann. He must have seen where we were headed, even through the fog—he knew we were heading for that exit. Now he’s blocking our way. His eyes glint dark and furious through the haze.
Behind us, I hear the clatter of his guards’ footsteps on the lowest staircase. We’re trapped.
Daniel’s arm shoots out to protect me. “Stay back,” he whispers, his gaze locked on Hann.
“No,” I reply. This has always been my fight, the beginning of my haunted trips down here to the Undercity, the struggle to understand who I am. So I push my brother’s arm away and shake my head. When he resists, I turn to look him directly in the eyes. “I can do this.”
Something about my expression seems to click with him. He searches my face, hesitating, and then forces himself to take a step back. “Fair enough,” he says. “But hell if I’ll let you go alone.”
A small smile touches the edge of my mouth. “Never said I didn’t want your help,” I reply.
Hann walks toward us. A red light—probably turned on with the alarm—has started sweeping across the building, and it washes the man in scarlet, as if he were drenched in blood. His lips curl into a snarl.
“Where do you think you’ll end up?” he calls out to me. Even now, in his anguish, his voice is smooth and deep. “Where do you think that exit leads to?”
“A place you don’t control,” I answer.
He laughs bitterly. “Does it make a difference? You’ll be under the thumb of someone else. And I could have shown you something so much better.”
He draws something in his hand—a glint of metal flashes in the fog. Then he lunges for me.
He’s so fast that I barely have time to throw myself to the floor of the walkway. Daniel leaps up onto the railing with a single jump, spins, and ends up on Hann’s other side. But the man keeps coming. He swipes at me once, twice. I scramb
le backward. As the blade flashes again in the light, I kick my leg up. My boot catches his hand. It’s not enough to make him drop the knife, but it stops him long enough for me to get up and throw myself at him.
He stumbles backward. I twist around in his arms before he can stab at me with the knife, then force his wrist to one side. Behind him, Daniel shoots out a leg and trips the man. He goes down, taking me with him.
But he’s back on his feet in an instant. Another dagger appears in his other hand. He strikes at my brother. Daniel arcs backward—but one of the blades catches him on his shirt and slices clean through. Daniel winces. A touch of red stains the fabric.
Everything around me fades at the sight. My teeth clench. The muscles in my arms tense.
“You asked me if I thought this was the solution for everything gone wrong in my life,” Hann calls out. He strikes at me and I jump backward. The guards are making their way up the stairs behind me—they’ll be here any moment now. “Nothing can fix the past, Eden. Don’t you know that by now? Where is your mother? Your brother?”
I lunge at him again. This time, in my rage, I kick out at his hand and manage to knock one of the knives from his grasp. It clatters to the walkway floor. He’s starting to tire. Beads of sweat line his brow.
“This isn’t about fixing the past!” I shout back. “It’s about repairing the future! And all you’re doing is—”
“—making it better!” Hann finishes, striking at me again. His knife slashes through my sleeve. I feel the bite of the blade as I duck low, seeking the knife he’d dropped. Daniel, still clutching his chest, whirls around to face the first guard that reaches the end of the walkway. He dodges a blow from the man and kicks him hard against the railing.
Hann is breathing heavily now. I can hear the rasp of his lungs. “Do you think the city is going to change what they’re doing? Now that you’ve erased our chances of fixing things—do you think the city will do what’s right? That they’ll listen to you?” He nods down toward the exit. “Think your young friend will get to do anything other than go back to suffering in the Undercity?”
Even now, even here, his words have a way of seeping into me. I remember the way he shot Pressa, that he would have put a bullet through her head if I hadn’t stepped in. “The city wasn’t the one who tried to kill her,” I snap, and throw another punch at him. “Or who killed her father.”
He dodges my blow and hits back, hard. His fist catches me on my jaw. Stars burst in my vision. I collapse onto the walkway. Somewhere in the distance comes a shout from Daniel. And—am I hearing it right? A shout from outside the building, through a megaphone. A searingly bright light shines into the warehouse through the glass windows. The AIS has arrived.
Then a boot kicks me hard in the stomach. Pain lances through me. I gasp, curling into a ball.
“You think she’s better off living?” Hann’s voice is hoarse with anger now, as if he’s no longer talking about Pressa, but about someone else. “So that she can struggle to get by, day after day, on her rigged Level? You think you’ll keep in touch with her after your elite internship? You’ll return to your life in the Sky Floors while she gets to crumple a little more with each passing year.” He seizes me by my collar and drags me up. My face is so close to him that I can see the film of tears against his eyes. “I see all this because I’ve seen it before. Call me whatever you want. I’m not the villain you seek.”
“You’re right,” I spit back in his face. And I’m telling the truth. He’s not. “But you’ve got your eyes set on the wrong villain too.” I lunge up with my boots and kick him as hard as I can. He releases me. “If you have to sell your soul in your quest to make things better,” I say through gritted teeth, “then you’ll never succeed.”
He slams me back against the railing. Behind him, I glimpse Daniel leaping over the side of the banister and swinging out of the grasp of one of the guards. There are more and more of them now.
Hann stares me dead in the eyes. “Be their puppet, then,” he snarls. “Let them animate your broken limbs.” Then he grabs me and shoves me over the side of the balcony.
Daniel shrieks my name. As I fall, I grapple for a handhold and barely manage to cling to the side of the railing, trying not to tumble down three floors.
Below, the exit finally bursts open. A swarm of shouts suddenly echoes through the space. The troops. The agents. Their guns are held up, pointing at us.
I struggle to hang on. Above me, Hann gets ready to dislodge my grip and send me falling.
I stare up at him with a look not of anger but of grim determination. “This isn’t what they would’ve wanted,” I say to him.
Then I twist up. Daniel’s lesson comes to me in a flash. I swing to one side, grasp the banister with my other hand, and then use my momentum to kick high enough for my boot to grip the railing where my hands are. I shimmy up with a final burst of strength.
I don’t know if what I said made Hann hesitate for an instant. Maybe the faces of his lost family appeared to him. Maybe what froze him for that fraction of a second was the thought of those he’d once loved.
Whatever the reason, Hann doesn’t get a chance to strike me down before I swing over the railing’s edge.
My boots connect directly with his chest. The force of the impact sends him careening backward. He stumbles, hits the railing, and flips over it. For an instant, it looks like he might catch himself. But then he tumbles over.
I have a sudden instinct to catch him and pull him back. A surge of panic rushes through me. But it’s too late now. For a moment, he looks like he’s frozen in a state of falling. Then he hits the shelves below and crumples to the floor.
Agents swarm around his body, their guns all pointed down at him. Hann’s guards have already backed away from Daniel—their hands are up, their weapons on the ground as soldiers head up to our walkway. Among them, I see a young woman with a lean figure, her shoulder-length hair swinging as she races up the steps toward us. June.
I sink to my knees. I look at my brother, who staggers toward me, still bleeding from his chest. He crouches down beside me with a weary look. We’re both bruised and battered, but we’re alive. How long ago it seemed that Pressa and I joined in on the drone races, when I couldn’t bear to stay away from the Undercity, where I could still see echoes of my past. Maybe not much has changed since then. Tonight, after I go to bed, will I still be haunted by my nightmares? Will I see Pressa crumpling to the ground, bleeding—will Hann’s final gaze lock on to mine as he falls from the railings?
I don’t know if he’s dead. I still don’t even know if he was entirely wrong.
Daniel puts his hand on my neck. The sudden surge of adrenaline is waning now, and we lean against each other in exhaustion. Our lives have always been a war. Maybe that war won’t ever be over. But at the end of it all, we still have each other. It’s this thought that keeps me whole.
As Antarctican soldiers approach us, I pull back to give my brother a tired smile. “Still here,” I say.
He smiles back. “Still here,” he echoes. “And not leaving anytime soon.”
DANIEL
June tells us that Dominic Hann ultimately survived his injuries. I can tell you from personal experience that it’s possible to live through a four-story fall if you know what you’re doing and learn how to land right. Hann’s not the kind of man you kill easily. But his days of terrorizing Ross City have come to an end. He won’t be leaving prison anytime soon, not with the level of security they have on him.
It doesn’t mean things in Ross City have been resolved.
Eden and I get the update as we sit at the hospital, where doctors are tending to our injuries. My brother hasn’t said much since we were escorted from the outskirts and brought back to the center of the city. Already, most of the Level system has been restored, and with it, everything else: signs hovering over the buildings, virtual banks and stores, the elevators that restrict people to the floors where their Levels allow them to go. It’s all
back up and running, as if nothing happened.
Almost as if.
Now I sit in the waiting area alone, looking out at Ross City while Eden is visiting Pressa in her hospital room. From here, I’m so high up that I can’t make out the Undercity. Before everything happened with Hann, I’d let myself believe I was relieved to not have to see the troubles down there all the time. Now I feel uneasy that it’s invisible from this vantage point.
Eden’s past arguments with me echo in my mind. How had I let myself become so far removed from that world? Why had it taken everything falling apart here for me to understand what Eden had been trying to tell me for years?
I look down at my hands and trace the faint scars here and there. Old scratches from my days running buildings. Cuts from the fights I used to get into. They are memories of a past I thought I wanted nothing to do with anymore. After all, Hann had been consumed by his past, had let it twist him further and further until he withered away into nothing but rage.
But I can’t just pretend that my past never happened, either. The comfort of not remembering is an artificial thing. I rub my hands together, then sigh and lean against my knees. The scars are still there, long since healed over.
“Hey.”
I shift instinctively at the touch of her hand on my arm. It’s June. Today she’s not in her formal military uniform, but in a breezy collar shirt tied casually at her waist, her hair pulled loosely back into a low, messy braid. She smiles at me, then takes a seat beside me.
“I head back to the Republic tomorrow,” she says.
I try to keep the disappointment from my face. “So soon,” I reply.
Her expression wavers. “Anden’s currently talking to your President, figuring out the details of us resuming our trade routes.” There’s a slight pause as she glances at me. Loose strands of her hair fall from her braid, and I pull back the urge to tuck them behind her ear. “I heard the Level system is back in place.”