Legend

“I don’t think so,” she replies. “I’m okay.” When I push wet strands of her hair behind her ears, she looks up at me. “Day . . . it didn’t go according to my plan. I wanted to get both of you out. I could have done it. But . . .”

The image of John’s lifeless body displayed on the JumboTron makes me light-headed. I take a deep breath. “What happened?”

“There wasn’t enough time.” She pauses. “So John turned back. He bought us time and he went back to the hall. They thought he was you. He even wore your blindfold. They grabbed him and took him back to the firing squad yard.” She shakes her head again. “But the Republic must know by now that they made a mistake. You have to run, Day. While you can.”

Tears stream down my cheeks. I don’t care. I kneel in front of June and clutch my head in both hands, then sink to the floor. Nothing makes sense anymore. My brother was probably worrying about me while I moped in my cell like a selfish brat. John put me first, always.

“He shouldn’t have done it,” I whisper. “I don’t deserve it.”

June’s hand rests on my head. “He knew what he was doing, Day.” Tears appear in her eyes, too. “Someone needs to save Eden. So John saved you. As any brother would.”

Her eyes burn into mine. We stay here, unmoving, frozen in the rain. It feels like an eternity. I remember the night that set this all in motion, the night I saw the soldiers mark my mother’s door. If I hadn’t gone to that hospital, if I hadn’t crossed paths with June’s brother, if I’d found a plague cure somewhere else . . . would things be different? Would my mother and John still be alive? Would Eden be safe?

I don’t know. I’m too afraid to dwell on the thought.

“You threw everything away.” I bring a hand up to touch her face, to wipe rain from her eyelashes. “Your entire life—your beliefs . . . Why would you do that for me?”

June has never looked more beautiful than she does now, unadorned and honest, vulnerable yet invincible. When lightning streaks over the sky, her dark eyes shine like gold. “Because you were right,” she whispers. “About all of it.”

When I pull her into an embrace, she wipes a tear from my cheek and kisses me. Then she buries her head against my shoulder. And I let myself cry.

THREE DAYS LATER.

BARSTOW, CALIFORNIA.

2340 HOURS. 52°F.

HURRICANE EVONIA HAS FINALLY STARTED TO CALM DOWN, but the rain, heavy and cold, continues to fall in sheets. The sky churns in fury. Under all this, Barstow’s lone JumboTron broadcasts the news coming in from Los Angeles.

EVACUATIONS MANDATED FOR:

ZEIN, GRIFFITH, WINTER, FOREST.

ALL LOS ANGELES CIVILIANS REQUIRED TO

SEEK SHELTER AT FIVE STORIES OR HIGHER.

QUARANTINE LIFTED ON LAKE AND

WINTER SECTORS.

REPUBLIC WINS DECISIVE VICTORY AGAINST

COLONIES IN MADISON, DAKOTA.

LOS ANGELES DECLARES OFFICIAL HUNT

FOR PATRIOT REBELS.

DANIEL ALTAN WING EXECUTED DEC. 26

BY FIRING SQUAD.

Of course the Republic would announce Day’s execution as successful. Even though Day and I know otherwise. Already the whispers have started in the streets and dark alleys, rumors that Day has cheated death once again. And that a young Republic soldier helped him do it. The whispers stay whispers, because no one wants to draw the Republic’s attention. And yet. They continue to talk.

Barstow, quieter than inner Los Angeles, is still overcrowded with people. But the police here aren’t looking for us in the way police back in the metropolis must be. Railroad city. Ramshackle buildings. A good place for Day and me to take shelter. I wish Ollie could have come with us too. If only Commander Jameson hadn’t pushed the execution up a day. I’d wanted to let him out of the apartment, hide him in an alley and then go back for him. But it’s too late now. What will they do to him? The thought of Ollie barking at soldiers breaking into my apartment, scared and alone, brings a lump to my throat. He’s the only piece of Metias I have left.

Now Day and I struggle through the rain back to the rail yard where we’re going to set up camp. I’m careful to stay in the shadows, even on this stormy night. Day keeps a cap on and tilted low over his eyes. I’ve tucked my hair inside the collar of my shirt and wrapped an old scarf—now soggy—across the lower half of my face. It’s about all we can do for disguises right now. Old railway cars litter the junkyard, faded and rusted with age. Twenty-six of them, if you count a caboose missing half of one side, all Union Pacific. I have to lean into the wind to keep from falling over. The rain stings my wounded shoulder. Neither of us says a word.

When we finally reach an empty car (a 450 square foot covered hopper car with two sliding doors—one rusted shut, the other halfway open; must be designed for carrying dry bulk freight) safely tucked behind three others at the back of the yard, we climb inside and settle down in a corner. Surprisingly clean. Warm enough. Most important, dry.

Day takes off his cap and wrings out his hair. I can tell his leg is hurting. “Good to know the flood warnings are still in place.”

I nod. “Should be hard for any patrol to track us in this weather.” I pause to watch him. Even now, exhausted and messy and completely soaked, he has an untamed sort of grace about him.

“What?” He stops wringing out his hair.

I shrug. “You look terrible.”

This makes Day smile a little—but it disappears as fast as it comes. Guilt takes its place. I fall silent. Can’t blame him.

“As soon as the rain stops,” he says, “I want to head out toward Vegas. I want to find Tess and make sure she’s safe with the Patriots before we move on to the warfront to find Eden. I can’t just leave her behind. I have to know that she’s better off with them than with us.” It’s as if he’s trying to convince me that this is the right thing to do. “You don’t have to come. Take a different route to the warfront and meet me there. We can decide on a rendezvous point. Better just to risk one of us than both.”

I want to tell Day that it’s insane to head for a military city like Vegas. But I don’t. All I can picture are Tess’s hunched, narrow shoulders and wide eyes. He’s already lost his mother. His brother. He can’t lose Tess, too. “You should go find her,” I say. “You don’t have to talk me into it. But I’m coming with