Phoenix

by Elizabeth Richards

  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 e
nough,” 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.

  Ash doesn’t say anything.

  “I didn’t think so,” Sebastian says, then turns to me. “Just know it could have been prevented.”

  I watch Sebastian walk away, my head spinning.

  “What was that all about, bro?” Beetle asks.

  Ash shoots me a worried look, and my stomach knots as it dawns on me why he’s been acting so weird lately.

  “They got to you, didn’t they?” I say to him.

  Ash rubs the back of his neck.

  Beetle’s mouth hangs open. “Mate?”

  “Rose told me if I didn’t vote in favor of his law, he’d . . .” Ash looks at me. His black eyes are filled with shame.

  My heart cramps. He doesn’t need to say it.

  “Natalie, I’m so sorry,” he says in a rush. “What could I do? So many people were relying on me; I had to do it. I—”

  I gently kiss him. “It’s okay, I understand.”

  My life isn’t worth more than millions of others. If the roles were reversed, I would’ve done the same thing. It’s a testament to how much he loves me that he even considered voting in favor of Rose’s Law to protect me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?” I say gently. “I would’ve told you to vote no. I’m not afraid of Purian Rose.” That last bit is a lie, but I don’t want Ash to know how scared I am right now. What does Rose have planned for me?

  Ash pulls me toward him, holding me tight. “I won’t let him hurt you. I’ll die before I allow that to happen.”

  I look over his shoulder at the three crosses near the Boundary Wall. I don’t doubt his words. I know he’d die to save me—he’s done it before.

  The rest of our families join us.

  “We should go home before it gets dark,” Sumrina says.

  Beetle and Roach head to the Legion to discuss defensive strategies with Sigur, while Amy glumly helps Juno and Stuart pack up the equipment on stage.

  Ash glances toward the Boundary Wall.

  “You should go with Beetle,” I say.

  “I don’t want to leave you,” he says. “Will you come with me? It’ll be safer for you there.”

  “If the Sentry wants me, they’ll get me no matter where I am,” I say. “Besides, I want to check on Polly and make sure she’s all right.”

  If my sister is having one of her bad days, like Day said she was, then she needs me.

  Ash flicks another look at the ghetto.

  “It’s okay. Go,” I say. “I know there’s going to be a lot of business to discuss.”

  “Roach can deal with it,” he says. “I’m not leaving your side.”

  I smile, secretly grateful he’s staying with me.

  The town square is almost entirely deserted, since the majority of people hurried home when it was clear the vote wasn’t going in our favor. All around the city, doors have been locked and shutters closed as people wait for the Sentry government’s retaliation for our public defiance of Purian Rose.

  The streets are swarming with Sentry guards, and I doubt they’ll leave again. They’re setting up roadblocks, which is alarming. They obviously don’t want people to leave the city. What do they have planned for us? Ash keeps me close to him, while Harold and Michael flank us as we hurry back to the Rise, sticking to the back alleys to avoid the guards. Even so, I keep glancing nervously about me, worried one of Purian Rose’s men will appear out of the shadows and snatch me.

  My heart races when something to my right catches my eye—a flash of a golden-brown tail disappearing over the rooftop. A cat. I really am getting spooked. The sooner I’m home, the better.

  The Rise is eerily quiet when we arrive. Curtains are drawn and lights are out in the high-rise tenements and Cinderstone shacks. No children play in the cobbled streets. I feel like a trespasser in my own home. We reach the Ivy Church, where Ash and his father live. Harold says his good-byes, not questioning Ash when he stays behind with me.

  We turn down Cinder Street, and I’m almost knocked off my feet by a wave of heat. Men, women and children are running in and out of their homes, all carrying heavy pots and pans, water splashing over the sides. Acrid smoke fills the air. At the bottom of the street, twenty soot-covered men are throwing buckets of water over the source of the fire. It’s our house.

  “MJ!” Day screams, running down the alley.

  My stomach lurches. “Polly!”

  I turn to Ash, but he’s frozen, transfixed by the flames. I grab his hand, snapping him out of his nightmare. We sprint down the alley, ignoring the blistering heat. This must be torture for Ash, but he doesn’t leave my side. We reach the house. Flames spill out of the windows and consume the roof. The whole street could go up if we don’t put the fire out soon, but that’s not my concern now.

  “MJ! MJ!” Michael yells, searching for his son in the crowd.

  I grab one of the men carrying buckets of water. “Did you see a teenage girl and a young boy leave the house?”

  The man shakes his head. Without pausing to consider the risks, I push past the men and barge into the house, ignoring their pleas for me to stay outside. Ash follows a heartbeat behind, an arm over his mouth and nose. The kitchen is ablaze. The floral wallpaper has been entirely stripped away to reveal the Cinderstone bricks underneath, which glow like embers.

  “Polly! MJ!” I yell, and immediately start choking on the scorching fumes.

  They’re not in the kitchen, so I head farther into the house, raising my arm to protect my face from the heat. Ash grabs the door handle leading into Michael and Sumrina’s bedroom and yells out in pain as the flesh on his palm sizzles.

  “We can’t go in there!” he shouts. “The whole room must be an inferno!”

  We hurry to MJ’s room. It’s billowing with smoke, and I can barely breathe.

  “MJ?” I cough.

  No answer.

  I check Polly’s room next. Nothing.

  Which leaves one room: the bedroom I share with Day. Paint is peeling off the door, and the wood is warped from heat. Oh, God, please let them be alive. I shove the w
ooden door with my shoulder, the force making my teeth rattle. It doesn’t budge. Ash joins me, and we hit it together. This time the door buckles, and I tumble into the room. The air is thick with smoke. Ash and I frantically search for my sister and MJ.

  “They’re not here! Did they get out?” I call out to Ash.

  A sickening thought strikes me. Are they in Michael and Sumrina’s room? Tears spring to my eyes, and I turn, ready to rush back to their bedroom, when I hear a small moan from the wardrobe near my bed. The sound is barely audible over the crackle of burning wood. A chair has been pushed in front of the wardrobe, and I knock it aside and yank the cupboard door open. MJ topples out. I catch him before he hits the floor.

  He’s alive, but barely conscious.

  “MJ . . . MJ, wake up!” I slap his face to rouse him.

  He looks up at me with confused brown eyes.

  “Where’s Polly? Is she here?”

  A shake of his head. “Gone.” He slips into unconsciousness.

  Polly isn’t here. My relief is quickly countered by worry. Where is she? Ash lifts MJ over his shoulder. I snatch my bottle of heart medication off my nightstand, tucking it into my pocket, and we rush out of the room. The hallway is ablaze, and the heat claws at my skin, scorching my eyes and lungs. I hold my breath as we push through the corridor, barely avoiding a pile of burning books as it topples into our path. Flames lick up the walls and over the ceiling, making the wooden beams above us creak and splinter. There’s a terrible cracking sound, and Ash shoves me, sending me flying out the front doorway into the street just as the roof caves in behind us.

  Cool air smacks me in the face, and I gasp deep lungfuls of it before crashing to the ground. Michael takes his son from Ash, who kneels on the cobblestones beside me, coughing up soot. Someone hands us a pan of water, and I let Ash drink first before guzzling the remainder myself. My throat feels scorched, on fire.

  “Are you okay?” I say croakily.

  He manages a nod, but his whole body is shaking.

  Day rushes over to me after she’s tended to MJ.

  “Polly?” she says.

  “Not here,” I reply. “I don’t know where she is.”