“Exactly,” Maya said with a flirty wink.
“Is he staying long term?”
“Oh no, he’ll be leaving with me when I head back out, and I’ll drop him back off in City 6.”
Percy asked Jonah, “And what are you delivering, sir?”
Maya answered for him, “Just some medicine. You’ll probably need to see it, right?”
“Yes, please.”
“Hey, Doc,” she nodded at Jonah, “can you hand that case to Percy?”
Jonah’s heart pounded as he reached between his legs, grabbed his medical bag, and handed it to the guard. The guard smiled as he pulled it through the window, tipping his head on his way to the small machine just off to the side.
As Percy set the bag onto a belt, which fed it into a machine, Jonah tried to slow his racing heart.
Jonah knew he was carrying poison, though he wasn’t sure what kind or how it acted. Fortunately, all the vials inside the bag looked like medicine to the untrained eye. Unless Percy had some sort of chemical scanner or something to detect poison, Jonah figured he should be OK.
What if they do have a chemical scanner?
As his heart beat faster, cold sweat slicked his head.
Stop thinking of this. Just relax. Everything will be OK.
Percy squinted at the screen, smiled, then pulled bag from scanner, returned to the truck, and handed it through the open window. He nodded at Jonah as Maya set the bag on the floor between his legs.
“Now, I just need to scan you, Dr. Blake.”
“Sure thing,” Jonah said.
“Can you step out of the truck?”
“Of course,” Jonah said, heart pounding.
He stepped out as the Watcher came to him and placed the ID scanner over his wrist.
The screen showed his credentials, then something flashed. “Checked at Hanger 014 59 minutes ago.”
Oh shit.
Percy looked up at Jonah.
“Something wrong?” Jonah said, playing dumb.
His heart pounded, so fast he thought Percy might notice his racing pulse by looking at his neck. Jonah tried not to look at the other City Watcher standing at the gate looking out at the cars behind them, even as he sized up where they were in relation to him and how he might best escape.
Percy looked at Maya, “Says here that Doc checked into Hangar 14 an hour ago.”
Maya laughed, “Yeah, well I’m sure that’s some kind of glitch.”
Percy looked down at the screen, then back up at them, “I dunno. I think I should call over to the hangars.”
This is it. Shit’s about to hit the fan.
Jonah glanced at the other Watcher, now looking at them, probably wondering why they were taking so long to get processed. Any minute now, he’d be over.
Jonah readied himself.
He wouldn’t go without a fight. He could probably grab Percy’s shock stick and use it to stun him, then kill the second Watcher. Maybe they could race into The City and escape.
But finishing the mission with City Watch searching for him behind The Walls would be infinitely harder, if not altogether impossible.
Maya smiled in a mischievous way that surprised Jonah. She looked at Percy and asked, “How’s your friend, Jocine?”
Percy’s eyes widened. “Huh?”
“I asked how Jocine was,” Maya said, smile still planted firmly, eyes locked onto his.
The other Watcher strolled over, a beefy guy with his hand loosely on his shock stick.
“Everything OK here?”
Percy looked at Maya nervously, then at the scanner, then to Jonah, and then to his fellow Watcher.
He swallowed.
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s good. Just catching up with Amy here.”
“OK, well speed it up—we’ve got a line to get through.”
Percy met Maya’s eyes, and then Jonah’s, not disguising his anger. “OK, now,” he said, “Y’all have a good trip.”
Jonah got back into the truck, letting out a deep exhale as Maya climbed in and again sparked the truck forward.
Jonah said nothing until they were well past the gate.
“OK, what the hell was that all about? Jocine?”
“Let’s just say it pays to know everyone’s weaknesses. Jocine is the other Watcher’s wife, and let’s just say she and Percy have been extra friendly, and there’s some other sordid stuff they’re into. You never know when such knowledge will come in handy. You could’ve fucking told me you were scanned at the hangars!”
“I assumed you knew,” Jonah snapped. “You’re the one who went on with some stupid story about how my truck broke down and we’ve been palling around The Barrens since! Had you just told him I flew in, this wouldn’t have been an issue!”
“I didn’t know how you got here. I assumed you’d come by boat like most of the others I get in here. Nobody comes in on gliders! Shit!”
Jonah tried to calm himself. They were OK now. That’s all that mattered.
“So,” he asked, “How does this affect us getting out of here?”
“I don’t know,” Maya said. “I’m only responsible for getting you into The City. Someone else will help you get out. Just tell them what happened.”
Jonah nodded. “OK.”
After a long moment, he asked, “So, does this screw up your relationship with Percy? Now that you played your card?”
“No, I don’t think so. I’ll have him killed to be safe, though.”
“Killed?”
“Better safe than sorry. Right?”
“Yeah,” Jonah said, not wanting to say what he thought.
He couldn’t worry about one Watcher’s fate. Not now.
They drove a bit farther, then Maya pulled over at an intersection.
“OK. This is as far as we go together. Follow this side road west to the market square.” She pointed down a sloping road headed toward a busy outdoors market.
“What am I supposed to do then?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I’m assuming someone will meet you, but that’s all I was told.”
“Thanks. I don’t know why you’re helping like this, but I never would have made it inside without you.”
“You got it, Lovecraft,” she said, then waved her hands back and forth as if to say hurry up. Jonah opened the door and dropped to the road. She pulled away before he could even close the door.
Jonah started walking down the road toward the tented marketplace. Immediately, he noticed how green the grass was along the sides of the road. He had spotted it from above, but up close, the grass seemed even brighter, and it wasn’t green only in patches like in City 6 or most of The Barrens. The grass was green enough to make Jonah want to cry, as did the streets, which were sparkling clean. The asphalt was pitch black as if poured the day before. The glass on the tall buildings in the distance gleamed. Steel twinkled.
Everything seemed so new.
As Jonah made his way into the market square with its large colorful tents and even more colorfully dressed people, he realized how different they were from everyone else he’d ever met. They weren’t just walking, but almost floating, buoyant without any worry, happy to be wherever they were going.
Those who weren’t walking stood on mobile platforms, zipping through the market and along every boulevard. Every cobble seemed so perfectly set, Jonah wondered if there was staff to neaten them if they happened to skew.
He entered the first tent fighting awe. It twitched his mouth at the corners, watered his eyes, made him want to break out in a happy sweat. The tent’s interior was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Colorful fabrics hung behind large pots of orchids starting in the tent’s corners, and fanning out along the tent walls. The pots were stuffed and spilling, like the one City 6 displayed in the square each year on Fertility Day—but that was just one pot and there were perhaps 20 in this tent alone.
The crazy thing was that the flowers were decoration, not even what the store was selling. That ho
nor belonged to the abundance of fruit spilling from baskets everywhere around him—on the floor, on top of overturned wooden crates, and along the counter, where a woman brought her small bag of fruit for purchase.
Jonah wanted to feel like he deserved the world around him so he could fit in with everyone else who so obviously did, but in his heart he knew that no one in the world could ever truly deserve so much. He picked up an apple. It was the most gorgeous piece of fruit he had ever seen: plump and crimson. Jonah drooled imagining City 1 peaches, then, inspired, wandered the tent until he found some—a giant basket two arms across, piled to the top and crowned with a sign that said, Bathtub Peaches.
Jonah sank his teeth into the meat, swallowed the delicious fruit, and closed his eyes, rocking his head back and forth, before blinking his eyes open. He wanted to bask in the gloriousness of the peach, but had to act like he belonged here. A courier comfortable in City 1 wouldn’t be standing around like an idiot gushing over a piece of fruit.
He wandered the tent a bit longer, then went to the front to have his ID chip scanned and charged for the peach before heading back out in search of whoever was looking for him.
Everything was shiny, especially the people.
Everyone was beautiful, like Maya and the people at the Pegasus station and Percy. Only after seeing their beauty did Jonah realize how truly drab it was behind the City 6 Walls. Of course, Jonah knew it was dull, but it was one thing to know it and another to live with all the countless blacks, whites, and grays that get trapped in a city made of dreary, lifeless uniforms, chipped cinderblocks, and too many shadows. The people in City 1 were dressed in styles that Jonah had never seen, playful patterns and stripes and dots, florals and shapes, even images he recognized from Old Nation movies. The women all wore makeup, and their skin was radiant and blemish free.
Children played games in the middle of the square, rosy cheeked and waiting their turns. Jonah wondered if they were in school. He tried to remember what day it was, and realized he had no idea. He wondered if maybe it wasn’t a school day because City 1 children didn’t attend. It was certainly possible in a world that was upside down.
“You’re the Hydrangea landscaper?” Jonah heard from behind him. That must’ve been the code.
He turned. A kind-looking man was smiling, his face expectant.
“That’s me,” Jonah said, the bag in his hand seeming to take on extra weight.
“Excellent,” the man said. “Let’s get started.”
He started walking. Jonah fell in step behind him, wondering what else he had yet to see in this strange city.
CHAPTER 42 — ANA LOVECRAFT
It was hard to believe that just a few days ago Ana had been begging for death. Now she was close to a reunion with her father in Hydrangea. If they could find the place.
Ana didn’t just feel better. Impossibly, she felt better than she could ever remember feeling before. Healthy, strong, eager.
Liam, on the other hand was exhausted, running on fumes. He had carried her, and her burden, setting aside his own needs for too long. Now it was catching up to him. Ana wasn’t sure how much longer Liam could keep up. It was only midafternoon, but he already looked ready to find a camp for the night.
Liam was too proud to admit needing rest. She knew he might also have been scared that if they risked sleeping in The Barrens another night, their luck would run dry and they’d rise in the morning to another Band waiting to attack them. Either way, they marched on, confused.
“It should be here,” Ana said. “Are you sure we’re in the right place? Maybe we should’ve turned left at the river instead of right?”
“Positive,” Liam looked bothered, casting his glance around them at rolling acres of wild hydrangea. “I mean, the flowers are here, so it has to be close, right?”
They had been searching for a wall, or sentry towers, or something to indicate the village they were looking for. Two hours later, they’d crossed the entire plot three times each way, hunting for the “patch of brightest blue” they were told to look for while being given their oral map before leaving Paradise.
“It all looks like the brightest fucking blue,” said Liam.
He was growing more agitated by the minute. About a month before Ana had suggested that he try cursing less. He had, and the change was immediate and rather remarkable. Ana didn’t know if Liam’s instant shift was an indication that he was capable of shaping habit quickly, or if he cared about her feelings that much. He barely swore through their encounter with The Band, even on the rooftop. But now he was back to spitting curses like sunflower seeds.
“There is no brightest blue,” came a female voice from them.
They turned. A striking woman walked toward them, a rifle slung over her back, accessible but not aimed. She wore thick, metal armored bracelets, bulky but not decorative. Ana figured they had some sort of weapon inside them. Although Liam tensed beside Ana, he left his weapon undrawn—maybe because they were in a field of hydrangea, or maybe because the woman approached with the rifle still at her back.
Ana whispered, “Think she’s a bandit?”
“You ever known one to jabber about the pretty flowers?”
“No, I guess not.”
The woman said, “Looking for the brightest blue keeps you in the patch until you’re spotted.”
“Then what took you so long?” Liam said. “We’ve been out here for hours.”
“Barely two,” she said. “We didn’t come out because we couldn’t. There are patrols you cannot see. They monitor The Barrens; we monitor them. When it’s safe we show ourselves.”
To Liam she said, “I’m not a bandit, nor an enemy.” She turned to Ana. “We are friends, now met.”
She bowed her head.
The woman might not have been bandit or enemy, but she was intimidating to Ana, with, jet-black short, spiky hair like a man’s, and blazing eyes that looked like they knew how to kill and might even like it. She seemed almost placid, but with serenity just one layer deep, seconds from turning rabid. Ana thought that if the woman had ever been in The Games, then no one else—male or female—could possibly have stood a chance against her.
Liam stepped in front of Ana, shielding her body with his. Only after he was fully in front of her, did she realize that Liam wasn’t protecting her from the woman; he was keeping Ana from revealing her wrist.
Ana appreciated his concern, but was feeling better, and didn’t want to hide meekly behind him like a timid child.
She stepped out from behind Liam, bandage on full display.
“My name is Anastasia Lovecraft. Sutherland sent for me. I’m supposed to meet my father at Hydrangea.”
“Yes, I know who you are, Anastasia. I watched you in The Games.” The woman turned to Liam, her eyes expectant. “And you?”
“Liam Harrow, you missed me in The Games, did ya? And who the hell are you?”
“Are you infected?” the woman asked, ignoring Liam. She looked down at Ana’s wrist, then back up into her eyes, concerned.
Ana nodded.
Liam said, “She’s getting better, though.”
The woman looked surprised. “Better?”
“Yes, she was in terrible shape when we left Paradise, close to death just a few nights ago. Then, after an especially awful night, she woke feeling—and looking—better. The infection, which had spread almost to her shoulder, has retreated, and now most of her arm looks normal. It’s like she’s healing or something.”
“Healing? Impossible. Are you sure she was infected?”
“Yes, I think so,” Ana said, not sure if she wanted to risk being turned away before getting into Hydrangea. Oli said Hydrangea was more tolerant of the infected, but she couldn’t be sure. “I was bitten by a man we had been traveling with; he turned rather quickly. But I think I’m OK. At least for now. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. We’ve come a long way, and I don’t know where else to go. We were told Mr. Sutherland wanted to see me, and that my dad is
waiting.”
“Of course,” the woman said. “You have nothing to worry about, Anastasia. Please follow me.”
Ana was surprised that the woman didn’t ask for their weapons. She didn’t see them as a threat, trusted them, or was ordered to bring them unmolested. The woman didn’t look like the type to trust someone at a blush, so it was likely some combination of the first and last.
They followed her to the far edge of the hydrangeas, where blooms were the dullest blue, then into a small clearing. The woman dipped a hand into her pocket. She must’ve pressed something, because a second later the ground began to shake as a horrible grinding rattled the earth. A thousand tiny pebbles quivered, then a seam appeared in a long circle around them. The ground rumbled in descent, as it had under Duncan when he saved them from The Games.
Ana stared, awed as the platform lowered them past sewers and tunnels and even deeper underground. She and Liam looked out together as they passed the first level, then the second. The first had a wide opening that spilled into a long and empty corridor with warm lighting. The second opened onto a sprawling warehouse where many people worked at long tables, some at machines and some with what looked like hand tools. Others walked the floor in hurried lines. Ana couldn’t tell what anyone was doing specifically; they were too far away, but she wanted to know and thought it was probably mechanical work—perhaps fixing orbs.
The room seemed neat and sterile.
“By the way,” the woman said, “I’m Katrina.”
“Hi, Katrina,” Ana said uncomfortably. “It’s nice to meet you. Thanks for helping.” She shifted on her feet, wondering when they would stop. “Are you taking us to see my dad?”
“First thing’s first,” Katrina said. “And meeting Sutherland is the first thing anyone does in Hydrangea.”
The platform stopped on the third level down—it seemed to take as long as it would if they had gone 10 levels—where they stepped into a tunnel. Katrina pressed a button as she stepped off the platform and sent it grinding back to the top.
“This way,” Katrina said, leading them down a long hallway toward a lit door at the end. In front of the door stood a man in a dark-blue uniform. Like Katrina’s, it looked more like armor than fabric, and reminded Ana of City Watch.
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