The Stolen Sky (Split City Book 2)

by Heather Hansen

  Arden slid into the middle bench between Roan, the boy who’d met them at the hovervan, and Mina. Dade felt too far away, staring at the back of her head. He frowned. There was something going on with her. She looked odd, kind of pasty with her pupils blown too large, and she seemed to stare right through him. Dade wanted to get her alone and ask her what it was. They were a team, and he greatly disliked that they were already being split up even if it was by only a few feet.

  The girl who’d met them in the city was named Coco. She finally introduced herself as she slid into the front passenger seat next to Annem. She gave the younger girl an indulgent smile before waving at her to roll out.

  They slid into traffic with a zipping move followed by a thrust of power that pushed Dade back into the seat. The jarring motion made him realize he hurt in places he hadn’t known were bruised. The smell of the ozone recycled through the filtration system. It blew cool air into the back of the hovervan, but it wasn’t enough to stop his roiling stomach.

  Annem dipped and swerved through the vehicles, as the hovervan barely missed hitting other drivers.

  Roan swore and snarled at her from behind her head, “Stay in your lane.”

  “Stop yelling at her,” Coco said with a glare. “She’s ditching our tail.”

  Roan was having none of it. “There’s no one behind us, and I don’t want to die thousands of feet in the air because she can’t control this vehicle. And why is she always at the wheel? Annem’s the worst driver.”

  Coco showed him her teeth. “If you don’t want Annem to kill you, I could volunteer for the job.”

  “Children,” Mina chided with amusement. “You can drive next time, Roan.”

  He huffed and crossed his arms. “I will.”

  Annem darted straight up into the static cloud where hovervehicles were prohibited, then used the thick, gray, charged smoke for cover. It was cold and wet. Droplets of condensation covered the moonglass shields. Visibility was less than a foot, and yet Annem pushed the hovervan at top speed through it.

  Roan swore.

  Coco laughed.

  Dade’s heart felt like it sat in his throat for long minutes, only starting to settle when they began their descent into the Lower Levels. Visibility outside the vehicle improved. The static cloud began to wisp into lighter swaths of gray that caressed the vehicle.

  The city came into view below them. He leaned into the moonglass that protected him from the outside rush of air to get a better look at the mass of moving bodies as they flew over yet another protest site. He now realized that the demonstrations hadn’t been contained within the Level where they’d met the hovervan or even within that side of the city. Everywhere, it seemed, angry citizens held up signs.

  Seeing the chaos made him think about all the things that he’d neglected. The weight of responsibility settled heavily on him. The people who counted on him to bring them stolen VitD—they’d probably die without him. The children and the sick wouldn’t last as long as the healthy adults. They didn’t have the two years to wait. Maybe a year tops. Not that he could do anything at the moment to help.

  “The protesters are using the sun-star?” Arden asked, her tone thoughtful and her voice sounding like her own again. Her color seemed better too. She leaned over Roan to get a better look.

  Dade looked to the window as well, searching the crowd to see that she was right.

  The sun-star was the symbol used by the Solizen: a simple black sun, its center a perfect dark circle. Eight spokes surrounded the nucleus at equal intervals, the four points of the compass longer than the others. These spokes did not touch the center, leaving a rim of negative space to break up the design. The Solizen used it to signify that they were special, the only ones allowed access to the sun.

  As the Ghost, Dade had used the sun-star as a declaration of war, spray-painting it in dripping red across the city. It seemed that the people had taken the appropriation of the symbol to heart. Several of the signs had been painted with the symbol, while larger versions decorated the sides of buildings.

  It reminded him of things he didn’t have anymore. Working as the Ghost for the last few years had given Dade purpose. It focused him and set the tone for his life decisions. He wondered what he’d do now and didn’t like that he had no idea. It had been his plan that the Ghost would live while “Dade” would die. It hadn’t worked out that way. As far as the city had been told, the Ghost was dead. He’d never meant to cut off that part of himself. It felt like a phantom limb, one he could feel but not use.

  “The Ghost is their hero,” Annem said, taking her gaze away from driving. Hovervehicles whipped around them as she strayed out of the line of traffic.

  “Keep your eyes on the sky,” Roan yelled at her.

  The thought of the Ghost’s memory becoming more than just a dead vigilante warmed Dade. He had done some good. Even as little as he’d managed to pull off had left a positive mark. The Ghost had become a symbol of a better life. Maybe he’d offered more hope to the people than he realized.

  “I’m sure Dade has lots of thoughts about the Ghost and the sun-star.” Mina glanced over her shoulder at Dade, the look she gave him inscrutable.

  Saben stiffened beside him.

  Dade’s face went hot and then cold. He tried not to swallow or flinch or show any reaction to her comment whatsoever. Mina knew he was the Ghost. He’d questioned her awareness when she’d rescued him. Now it was quite obvious his intuition had been right. That was how she’d managed to be there at the right time. She must have figured out exactly what was going on between Dade and “the Ghost” when they fought, and she probably even had inside knowledge that the govies were going to take a shot at him.

  If the Ghost were to rise from the dead, it wouldn’t be in anonymity. The circle of those who knew his secret had spread wider. He didn’t know how he felt about that. He’d always figured that eventually the identity of the Ghost would be discovered. But he hadn’t expected it to be quite so soon. And he also hadn’t expected that he’d consider going back to it, knowing full well there were people who knew exactly who was behind the mask.

  Fear shouldn’t play into his decision. Saving lives was worth fighting for when only he and Saben knew his identity, so it was worth fighting for now. The bigger problems he had, though, were his lack of money, his lack of gear, and the fact that VitD production was at a standstill. He needed to figure out these three things before he could move forward.

  “They’re tattooing their skin with the sun-star too,” Coco said from the front seat.

  “Who are?” Arden asked.

  “The people, everyone.”

  Dade hesitated. “That’s illegal.”

  “The sun-star isn’t just for the Solizen anymore. Guess you’re not so special after all,” Roan said snidely.

  Dade refused to give in to the impulse to touch his sun-star tattoo on the left side of his neck just behind his ear. It felt like a brand, telling him he was different, set apart, that he’d never outrun his birth.

  “If everyone has them, then yours won’t stand out anymore.” Arden sounded satisfied.

  Roan snickered. “You would think that, Sunshine, but anyone could tell Dade’s a siskin from a mile off.”

  Dade glared at him. Then shook his head and looked back out the window. There was no point in fighting with the guy. Roan was the type who enjoyed saying all kinds of things just to get a reaction.

  That didn’t stop Arden. There was a growl in her voice when she said, “Don’t call me that, and don’t call Dade that.”

  Dade had to give her credit for not throwing a punch. He didn’t so much mind being called a siskin, the derogatory term for Solizen. It was something that had happened more often than not throughout his life. To his way of thinking, he’d rather be a siskin than the douchebag that Roan clearly was.

  He also understood why the Sunshine comment annoyed her. It was a slam, implying that since the sun was only for the Solizen, that she was a Solizen whore�
�his whore.

  Mina made a humming noise. “The rebellion is getting worse. It hasn’t spread into Undercity yet, but it will. We need to pull together: Undercity, the Levels, even any Solizen who will join us.” Her gaze met Roan’s. “Let’s not antagonize our allies.”

  Annem docked the hovervan on a stretch of landing pad designated for long-term public parking. The landing platform was located in the middle of several older buildings, carved away like an afterthought.

  Coco was the first out. She grabbed a case from the hovervan and strapped it over her shoulder, and she and Annem proceeded to make their way into one of the buildings. They laughed and pushed at each other. Annem bounced, her red ribbons fluttering, while Coco shook her head. Then she reached out to twine their hands together.

  Mina rounded the vehicle and Roan followed. They pulled a net out of the back, opening it between them, and then threw it over the top of the hovervan. It was thin, see-through, with a silvery sheen. The fabric moved like liquid, undulating through the air before snapping out and clamping into place around the sides. Then the silver simmered and disappeared.

  There was still a hovervan parked in the space, but it didn’t look like the vehicle they’d ridden in. It appeared as a duller, dimmer version, the blue paint having turned to dark silver. He stared at it and realized that his vision slid off, as if forced to the side. Dade kept looking back, squinting, always with the same result.

  “What is that cover?” Arden asked. She too squinted, reaching forward to touch it.

  “It’s a form of net-tech,” Mina said. “Venz’s invention. You’ll meet him soon. It hides things in plain sight. I haven’t sold it yet because its value is in the fact that no one knows we have this ability.”

  The netting had disappeared, becoming part of the vehicle. The air around the hovervan felt colder than it should, frigid, with an electric charge that bit at his fingertips as he pressed against the metal. It tingled and zapped him, causing Dade to snatch his hand back.

  Arden and Saben were doing the same thing. Touching and then pulling their hands back as if burned.

  Mina proudly stood by, indulgent. “If you know the netting is being used, it’s easier to train your gaze to land on it. Normally people walk by it and don’t think twice.”

  Dade wondered what else this netting had been used to hide and how many things he’d walked by without noticing.

  “What happens if someone sees through the camouflage and tries to dismantle it?” Saben asked.

  “It hasn’t happened yet, but if anyone tampers with the net-tech, it’s rigged to explode,” Roan said.

  Dade thought about the innocent people who could get hurt. But he also realized they couldn’t leave their vehicle vulnerable. Anyone discovering and logging their DNA was a threat. It relieved him to know that he, Arden, and Saben would be off grid and hidden from their enemies as long as they were with Mina.

  “Come on. We need to get inside.” Mina turned to walk toward the building that Coco and Annem had entered. “We can’t stay out here in the open.”

  They weren’t being treated like they were prisoners, which was good and odd and definitely suspicious. It warned Dade to be prepared for anything. He knew Arden and Saben felt the same way based on how they carried themselves—Arden with an attempted limberness to her body, prepared to strike, and Saben taking deliberate steps, his gaze alert and cautious.

  The building they’d entered was standard for the area. Much of the siding had been replaced with large metal panels bolted to the walls. Inside looked tired and smelled moldy. The lighting was mostly busted, leaving the hallways in darkness.

  “Cameras?” Saben asked.

  “They’re taken care of,” Mina said. “We have control of this part of the grid.”

  They took the small inside stairwell. The metal stairs clanked as the heavy tread of their boots hit the metal skiffs. He tried to keep track of how far they descended. They’d started out on Level Three, but with forty stories to a Level, they traveled for some time. A thin sheen of perspiration coated his forehead, and his breathing was heavy by the time they stopped. He estimated they’d reached Level One.

  Dade expected them to exit onto the street, but instead, the group turned toward the center of the building and entered a boiler room. It was filled with a maze of big machines that provided the building with ventilation and sometimes heat.

  The room was hot and sticky. Dade’s clothes sucked against his skin, and he wanted to remove his cloak. He wiped his brow as sweat began to bead down his face.

  In the center of the room, Coco was already using a screw gun on the bolts of a machine while Annem stood beside her, humming, her tempo rising and falling with the action. Once the shielding was off, a panel was visible. Annem pressed her hand against a control pad, and then entered a series of numbers. The box pulsed once with light, and then the hatch opened.

  It was dark inside the tube, but he could faintly make out a ladder. This looked to be much more technologically advanced than the bolt-holes he’d taken into Undercity with Arden. He realized that instead of using the old passageways, they’d reconfigured an air shaft.

  Arden held herself stiffly. “Your base is in Undercity? How did I not know that?”

  Mina gave her a smile. “There are a lot of things you don’t know.”

  “For how long?” Arden demanded.

  “Years.” Mina shrugged. “Undercity gangs have always been at one another’s throats, too preoccupied to notice I’d moved in, and the govies don’t bother with what happens there.”

  Arden crossed her arms. She spread her legs slightly apart so that she appeared to be steadier on her feet than Dade knew she was. “I’ll be shot on sight if I return.”

  “Then don’t let anyone see you,” Coco said, rolling her eyes. Then she opened the case she’d brought from the car.

  “I can’t walk the streets,” Arden continued, not taking her eyes off Mina. “They have spies everywhere. If anyone recognizes me, I’m to be killed on sight. Or is that your plan? Do you want me dead?”

  Mina sighed. “No, I want to heal you and then help you fight. I need you, Arden, or I wouldn’t have wasted all this time and effort.”

  Shifting slightly, Arden relaxed so incrementally, it was almost unnoticeable. She nodded once. “If you screw me . . .”

  “I won’t.”

  “I’m ready,” Coco said. Syringes lined the interior of the black bag she’d laid on the ground. The liquid inside the glass tubes was clear, with a metal ball the size of a pinhead floating within. Coco had extracted one of the cylinders and popped up the needle.

  Dade’s gut clenched. These vials weren’t for him. He already had a tracker.

  “You remember this, don’t you?” Annem asked Dade, her eyes sparkling with merriment.

  Arden, who’d stopped staring at Mina long enough to see what Coco held, said with a shaky breath, “No.”

  “We made an agreement,” Mina reminded. “Tagging you is necessary. This tunnel and our compound are both wired to blow if you don’t carry the transmitter. We all have one.”

  “You wired your facility?” Arden’s eyebrow rose.

  “I like to keep my things secure.” Mina waved at Coco to come closer. “It won’t even hurt.”

  Dade saw Arden’s hand clench. The struggle it took for her to breathe. But she said, “Do it now before I change my mind.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Arden gasped in shock as the heavy metal door slid open with a silent whoosh, displacing the airflow between the tunnel and the cycled air beyond. The opening led straight into Mina’s compound.

  She’d expected that they’d come out somewhere in Undercity and then have to travel to the hideout, as the Lasair usually did. To have the bolt-hole lead directly to a safe house, if it were to be compromised—it was no wonder it was rigged to blow.

  Mina’s lair had been converted from an old mining facility. A smart choice, considering they’d been boarded up and abandon
ed. No one would look for her here.

  These mines could go down several stories and were lower than the city. Undercity was built on the soil, while the mines dug into the earth. Though Arden didn’t think they’d traveled too far into the underground. By her estimate, they should still be in the first shaft.

  The blue rock and silt walls had been reinforced with sheeting metal that ran halfway up the enclosure. Over the top were metal staves that braced the sheets in place, keeping the soil from shifting and collapsing the mine. A salty, wet mineral tang hung in the air even though an air-vac system had been installed. The condensation stuck to her lungs like wet sludge.

  Mines were notoriously unstable because they flooded with groundwater. Arden heard the low hum of a pump system used to divert that water. Even so, flash flooding was a real possibility. It could come without warning, and they’d drown in a matter of minutes. Even a pump system couldn’t divert a river of water.

  “Please tell me I’m not going to drown in my sleep,” Arden said.

  “We have a warning system and an exit into the city.” Mina pointed to her left where a tunnel headed upward.

  The room they were in was large, the ceiling high. There were other openings at various points within the room besides the one Mina had indicated. It confirmed Arden’s assumption that they were in the first shaft before the tunnels angled deep into the surface of the planet.

  To one side was a kitchen. The space had all the usual necessities: a stovetop, a refrigerator, a sink, a long bench that functioned as an island with flanking bar stools. The rest of the room had been left open. There were several chaise lounges and a coffee table. It looked comfortable enough, though not decorated for aesthetics. Still, it was a lot better than any of Lasair’s hideouts.

  There were modern touches throughout that spoke to Mina’s technical capabilities. Those were new, shiny, and sleek. Gadgets that beeped and whirled, and Arden had no idea what they did. A vid-projector played the news silently, words scrolled along the bottom. Next to that was a weapons wall on which tactical gear was hung. There were phasers of all sizes racked, but no locks to secure them.