Abandon

with vids of me as a child, my brother, our family.

I tucked the chips into my pocket and joined Saffediene in the hall. The blue light danced off the dark walls, washing her pale features in an eerie glow. She gripped my hand, her tension evident in her touch.

“This way.” She tugged me away from the only entrance—and thus, the only exit—and toward the mess hall.

“What—?”

“Emergency exit,” she said. Two guys from Indy’s team were filling packs with canned food. They didn’t look up as we passed. Part of me wished I could’ve at least said goodbye to Vi. Part of me wanted to march out the front entrance and confront Director Hightower. All of me was desperate to get away.

But as we entered a square opening I could barely fold my shoulders through, all I could think was, This place had another way out and I didn’t know?

* * *

We flew south, away from the cavern, expecting the Director would approach from the north, from Freedom. Saffediene wanted to talk, and I let her.

“I wonder how Hightower found us,” she mused. “I mean, we’ve been so careful. Flying in from different directions, meeting Starr in random sectors. And we’re over a hundred miles from the border of Freedom. The orchards are a huge buffer as it is . . . .”

On and on she went. I grunted every now and then. Just thinking about how Director Hightower had discovered the hideout made me tired. Everything Saffediene said made sense though. I couldn’t help but wonder if someone inside our ranks had narced.

Insider Tip #7: Suspect everyone. Trust no one. When things go wrong, assume someone has tipped off the enemy.

See, that’s what Insiders do. We provide information to both sides. But as far as I knew, I was the only Insider at the cavern.

“Besides Thane,” I said out loud.

Saffediene didn’t miss a beat. “I suspect him too,” she said. “Funny how Hightower shows up at our hideout within days of Thane’s arrival, after we’ve been safe there for months.”

She hadn’t been there for months, but Pace and a small contingency had. And no one had been the wiser —not even me. At least until Thane had brought me outside the barrier a couple of months ago. We’d been sneaking tech and med supplies to the safe house during our “training sessions.”

“Do you think Director Hightower put a tracker on him?” I asked. “Why didn’t we check that?”

“Pace checked when we returned, remember? Thane was clean.”

In my concern for Jag, I’d zoned out most of what had happened after we’d returned. “Okay, so there’s me, and there’s Thane,” I said, ravenous to know who’d told the Director about our hideout.

“I used to live in Freedom,” she said. “And Raine. And Gunn. Do they have special implants? Ways to track them?”

“I’m sure Raine does,” I said. “She’s the Director’s daughter.”

“Vi was probably marked in some special way too,” she said. “Hightower went to great lengths to retrieve her.”

I shuddered at the casual way Saffediene said “retrieve her” like Vi was a possession that could be lost and found. Saffediene had grown up that way, but still. Thinking freely for almost a year should’ve humanized her vocabulary.

Part of me liked that she didn’t mince words though. She moved her board closer to mine. “Do you think Vi is carrying something unknowingly?”

“Anyone could be,” I said. “Me, you, her. I guess it doesn’t matter.”

“Unless you think someone did it on purpose.”

In my mind, images flashed with fire. The Association’s vids had blamed the destructive fires on the Resistance. They did it on purpose mingled with the roar of flames in my head. I found myself contemplating that vid more and more. I’d always believed it to be false—and I still did. I wished I knew which side was telling the truth, though. Because I’d lied. All Insiders lie.

Pics of the Resistance members flashed on my vision-screen. I dismissed each as it came up.

Jag? Definitely not.

Vi? No way.

Gunn, Raine, Saffediene, Indy, Pace? None of them.

Someone still living inside Freedom?

Trek Whiting? Hell would freeze first.

Starr Messenger? The sun would have to go black.

Based on what I knew about the people I’d been living with, none of them would betray the Resistance—or Jag—by blabbing to Director Hightower.

The only picture left was mine. A sudden, terrible thought struck me.

Could Director Hightower have come to claim me?

And even more horrifying: Do I want him to?

* * *

Our detour added three hours to the trip to Cedar Hills, which sat just south of a dead border in the foothills of an unnamed mountain range. I’d always wondered what had happened to the country on the other side of the border, but I’d never asked.

They’d likely died in the Great War or the subsequent fires, or the years of darkness and sickness and starvation that followed. Three out of every four people had died then, allowing the Thinkers an almost too-easy road to domination.

“Zenn?” Saffediene asked from beside me. We’d both settled onto our boards for the long flight. I sat, my legs dangling over the edges of my board in an attempt to enhance circulation. She sat, her knees tucked to her chest.

“Yeah?”

“Why do you always call Van ‘Director Hightower’?”

My brain buzzed. “Do I?”

“Yes,” she said. “You do.”

I scanned the horizon, as if it would hold the answer. “I don’t know.”

She hummed in her throat and didn’t say anything more, but in my head I heard, Maybe you hold him in higher regard than you thought.

And maybe I did.

* * *

Cedar Hills sat in complete blackout. The only reason I saw it was because it sucked in the light from the surrounding land. It was a void. Or a whole city trying to hide. From who or what, I couldn’t guess. The Association. Us. I had a hard time deciphering between the two at this point.

Saffediene led the way to the ground, and I touched down next to her in silence. I set about making a camp while she pulled blankets and extra clothes from the packs. I shivered and pulled on a second shirt and another sweater to ward off the chill.

We wrapped ourselves in blankets, and I asked her what she wanted to eat. After generating a bowl of steaming chicken chili for her, I ordered myself a stack of toast. The darkness and silence settled around us in thick layers.

“We’ll try first thing in the morning,” she said. “Maybe they’ve got the lights out to conserve energy.”

“I don’t believe that,” I said.

“Me neither, but I’m too tired to think about the real reason why.” She laid her head on my shoulder, and I gently lowered both of us to the ground. With her wrapped in her blanket and me in mine, sleep swallowed us whole.

When I woke up, the space beside me radiated a chill.

Saffediene was gone.

Both of our backpacks were gone.

Even my hoverboard was gone.