The Release

“Uh-oh,” Sunshine says.

“What?”

“See for yourself.”

They’re within sight of a small brown building not much bigger than a shed—the tram station—and Hope’s heart sinks. Two armed Brown Shirts stand guard, checking the papers of everyone who intends to board.

“What do you think?” Cat asks, once the trio duck into an alley.

“I’m working on it,” Hope says.

Hope knows the smart thing would be to abandon their plan, to join back up with the others and head for Dodge’s and not worry about Chancellor Maddox and Dr. Gallingham and a silo full of semiautomatic weapons. The important thing is to get out of the territory.

But Hope Samadi is the first to admit she’s never been about the smart thing. Especially when it comes to avenging her family’s deaths.

They crouch in shadows, eyes trained on the two soldiers guarding the tram station.

“You sure about this?” Cat asks.

Hope gives a fierce nod.

“Okay then,” he says. “Let’s do it.”

He gets up and exits the alley, walking purposefully toward the station. When he’s halfway there, Sunshine exits the alley out the other way. Hope takes a deep breath, then rises and shuffles down the street, head lowered. Her short black hair is tucked under her soldier’s cap.

“How’s it going?” Cat asks one of the soldiers at the tram station, an older man with a pockmarked face.

“Papers,” the soldier commands humorlessly. He steps from the shed and extends a hand.

“Right.” Cat pats his pockets. “Now where did I—”

“No papers, no tram. You know the rules.”

“I know. Oh, here …” He removes a folded bundle and passes it to Pockmark.

The Brown Shirt examines the papers carefully, especially the picture. His eyes dart back and forth between the photograph and Cat’s actual face.

“I know, I know,” Cat says, “it doesn’t look like me. That’s what a lot of people say.”

Pockmark grunts. His gaze lands on Cat’s artificial hand. “What happened there?”

“Hunting accident. No biggie.”

Pockmark shuffles through the papers. “How come it’s not listed?”

“It’s not?” Cat asks innocently. Out of the corner of his eye he notices the other soldier inching closer, his index finger gripping the trigger of his M4.

“You sure this is you?” the first soldier asks.

“Of course it’s me. Who else would it be?”

Just as the second Brown Shirt exits the shed and begins to bring the barrel of his gun toward Cat’s chest, a thin wire wraps around his neck and is snapped back. The soldier’s mouth opens and the assault rifle clatters to the ground. Hope pulls at the wire until the soldier’s eyes bulge.

Pockmark drops the papers and reaches for his pistol. Sunshine appears with a wire of his own, and Pockmark has no choice but to drop his weapon.

Cat begins binding the soldiers’ hands.

“Fine, you tied us up, you win,” Pockmark says with a smirk. “But there are a lot more soldiers up top than just the two of us.”

Hope’s doubts start to overwhelm her. What was she thinking, trying to get past the Brown Shirts and enter a secure fortress? Is she really willing to say good-bye to everything—her friends, Book, life itself—just for revenge?

“So I guess that’s that,” Sunshine says.

Hope gives her head a shake. “Nothing changes. I’m still going up there.”

She doesn’t know how, she doesn’t know what she’ll find. She’s not even sure she’ll succeed. But unfinished business is unfinished business, and there’s no turning back from that.

13. (#ulink_81631cb0-217f-505a-a64f-06a41e10845e)

“FREEZE, FLUSH!” I COMMANDED, and he could tell from my tone I wasn’t kidding around. “Now, slowly step away. No big movements.”

“Is it …?”

I gave a nod.

“What’ll happen if it goes off?”

“Let’s not find out, okay?”

I knew what TNT could do. And with that many pounds of explosives—and all those cans of gasoline—the Brown Shirts weren’t just looking to blow up a single chamber; they meant to destroy the entire Compound. Leave no trace. If we didn’t get out of there, we’d be buried beneath tons of rock and earth. Not an image I wanted to dwell on.

Flush backed up, eyes wide. His feet guided him through the maze of explosives. At a turn in the path, his foot accidentally nudged a can of gasoline, and we inhaled sharply. The can teetered but stayed upright. We let out a long, slow breath.

“What now?” Red asked, when Flush finally joined us.

“Forget the food,” Flush said, still breathing heavily. “We gotta get out of here.”

It was hard to argue. We’d come here hoping to find something to eat, maybe even recruit an army. It was obvious neither wish would come true. We had to get out while we could.

Still, there was maybe one thing we could salvage.

“You go on ahead,” I said. “I’ll join up later.”

Flush looked at me like I was crazy. “What’re you talking about? They’re going to blow this place to smithereens. We’ve gotta get out of here.”

“I know, but there’s something I need to do.” He was about to protest, but I didn’t let him. “I’ll be quick. Promise.”

Shaking their heads, they eased back down the tunnel and were swallowed by black. I took a deep breath, then scurried across the chamber.