“How would anybody suspect the three of us?” Tarsi asked.
“Not us specifically. I mean everybody. Hickson’s gotta know what’s going on, what everyone’s thinking after Mica and Peter bolted.”
Kelvin grunted. “Pretty soon they’ll need one enforcer for every worker. Love to see the timetables once that happens.”
“We should’ve left last night,” Tarsi said. “And why wouldn’t Pete have said something to me about him going? I mean, we were close enough that I’d expect a goodbye, or some kind of gesture—not that I think he should’ve asked us to join.”
“Same reason we haven’t told anybody,” I explained.
Tarsi bit her lip and raised her eyebrows. “I suppose you’re right,” she finally said.
“So what’s the plan?” Kelvin asked, turning from the window. “I say we go anyway. I don’t see anyone standing guard. Hell, who in the camp wouldn’t pass out if they were asked to take a shift tonight?”
I made my own hole in the misted glass, my hand squealing as it circled. I peered out, then turned to the others. “I say we sneak out of the cab and wait on the landing for a few minutes, see if we spot anybody. Nobody can get onto us just for being up at this hour.”
“Good plan,” Kelvin said. “And when we move, let’s head back past the server module. It’s the fastest path to darkness. Once we’re out of the light, we can swing around and go through the fence where Mica and Peter escaped.”
We each nodded. I tried to set my face and seem as calm as the other two.
Part of me wondered if they were doing the same thing.
After what seemed an eternity on the tractor’s landing without a sound—not even a single bombfruit dropping—I led the way down the metal ladder.
As soon as my feet hit the ground, I ducked under the body of the enormous earthmover and hid in the shadow of one of its massive tires. Tarsi came down after, quiet as a sigh, and moved beside me, her hand clutching my arm. Kelvin dropped the last two steps and bent his knees with the fall, landing like a primitive animal poised to strike. As the three of us padded barefoot towards the server module, I admired the lithe movements of the other two and figured of the three of us, I would be the one getting us caught.
The first several hundred feet were the worst. With our surrounds wide open and brightly lit, I felt like our very shadows were trying to turn us in. As we ran away from the low spotlights, the black betrayers grew from our feet, reaching out toward distant modules, threatening to dash up walls and cut across windows. Kelvin waved his hand at us, and we ducked and ran in a crouch, trying to shorten the elongated monsters.
When we reached the server module, I felt like the ordeal must be over. Beyond, lay relative darkness. We could cross to what was left of the fuel depot, circle around to the neglected farms, and then work our way past the dump where the debris from our birthday fires had been shoved. We rested on the back side of the module, catching our breaths and making sure our packs were still on our backs and not leaking survival gear.
With my head against the building’s exterior, I could hear the machines inside thinking. The servers clicked and whirred, the entire building humming with activity. Kelvin whispered our route one more time, but I didn’t hear him. I became lost in the sounds of the servers, the popping of the belts on the recording drives and the buzzing of the fans. It sounded like a machine pulsing and breathing.
Kelvin nodded, seeing if we were ready. He pushed off the wall and began padding his way toward the fuel depot. Tarsi followed, with me right behind.
We were only a dozen feet or so from the module when the klaxons sounded. The noise was so loud and unexpected, I nearly fell to the ground in paralytic fright. Tarsi and I both stopped and looked back toward the server module, as if unsure which way to run. Kelvin hissed at us both and my brain—completely undecided—was won over by the urgency in his voice.
We ran. I swung the tarp pack around to my stomach so I could keep it from swinging wildly and concentrated on pumping my legs. Twice, I looked back over my shoulder but could see no sign of pursuit. I followed Tarsi into the blackness of the scavenged fuel depot, only one of its bunkers remaining to hide us. Kelvin grabbed us before we flew past and pulled us close to the lonely cylinder of gold.
“Same route?” Kelvin asked. “Or do we make a new cut?”
The klaxon was so loud we had to do more than whisper to be heard. It felt bizarre to consider cutting through a fence meant to protect us and to have our efforts loudly betrayed by a horn meant to warn us of danger.
Tarsi voted we stick to the original route. We had brought some tools for the job, but none of us were quite comfortable with our backup plan of cutting through the fence ourselves.
Kelvin took another look back at the collection of modules and cursed. Tarsi and I looked as well and saw figures moving about, their shadows reaching out dozens of feet across the lit ground.
“They’re just being woken up by the horn,” Tarsi said.
She was right. The people were milling about as if confused, not running or acting organized. Still, a sense of urgency welled up inside me that threatened to turn into a full panic.
“Let’s go,” Kelvin said. He pushed off in the direction of the farms. Tarsi and I ran after him, and I began to wonder who had spotted us and sounded the alarm. Why hadn’t they yelled for us to stop, or fired a warning shot?
We were halfway to the farms when I figured it out—or at least thought I had. Oliver would have seen it as a sign from the gods: a bright streak of light fell from the heavens, exploding in a shower of sparks. It was a burning limb from the canopy, more falling debris from the earlier missile firing. I slowed my pace and looked up at the small ring of fire above me. Inside the orange circle of embers loomed a crisp hole of darkest night peppered with bright, winking stars.
And satellites, I thought.
Then it hit me—the timing of the canopy-clearing after someone had escaped. I gazed up at the glimmering pinpricks and continued to jog forward, slamming into Tarsi who had come to a stop to search the exposed heavens, looking for more falling debris.
“So beautiful,” she said.
I pulled her along as I searched the darkness ahead for Kelvin.
Tarsi stumbled, clutching at my shirt. “I can’t stop looking at it,” she said.
“Yeah,” I huffed, trying to catch my breath, “The problem is—I think it’s looking
• 15 •
Outside
As we crossed over the fallow fields and approached the dump, the klaxon fell silent. The end of its blaring brought little relief, however. Our hunters could now be heard shouting throughout the base as they organized our capture. I glanced their direction as I ran, expecting shots to be fired. The worklights went out, and for a moment I wondered if the tactic would make us easier to spot. But then, over the shouts and barked orders, I heard the hum of the electrified perimeter become louder. All the precious juice had been routed to the fence—more betrayal from the very things meant to protect us.
And more to come, as I heard the tractors roar to life and realized our own sleep-home was going to be used to hunt us down.
The three of us paused by the dump to catch our breaths. Tarsi clung to me and I could feel her shaking. All of us had physically deteriorated since leaving the vats, slowly wasting away on poor sleep and a poorer diet. Even if we somehow escaped capture, we had begun our sojourn poorly by burning precious calories before we even got beyond the fence and started eking out some sort of life on our own.
One of the tractors revved angrily; the lights from its cab moved out past the modules and toward the break in the fence.
“We need to hurry,” Tarsi said, her breathing labored.
