It wasn’t.
The rain fell sideways and clanked loudly against the window as the storm picked up speed. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t stay there any longer.
Greer read my mind. “The Galvantry will be here soon. We can’t be running in the rain.”
“I can’t stay here.”
“What did you see?”
I didn’t want to talk about it. It was too terrible, and a black cloud of screams wouldn’t have enough gravity to describe it.
I left, bounding down the stairs, taking two at a time, nearly falling just to get out of there.
“Wait!” Greer yelled over the banister. I didn’t bother to shut the door.
Rain pelted my face as I ran down the cracked pavement and towards the woods.
“Come on, Waverly!” he called after me, running into the rain. “I thought we were over not communicating,”
“I won’t stay here.”
Greer ran in front of me, so we were facing each other. Water poured down his face and dripped from his nose.
“It isn’t worth the risk of being in the rain right now. The Galvantry will be here soon.”
“No.” I pushed past him. I didn’t care what he did, but I couldn’t stay. I kept storming off, my boots slipping on the wet grass and the rubble. “I can’t stay here.”
“This rain isn’t safe; it’s too hard.”
“I don’t care. I can’t stay here after—”
“After what?” I still didn’t answer. He said, “I’m not putting us in more danger if you will not tell me why. Give me a good reason or we stay.”
“No.”
“You can’t keep things secret; I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
“That’s rich. Coming from a man who locked me in that room.”
“So that’s what this is about!” He threw up his arms in frustration. “Oh, I should have known.”
“Should have known what?”
“You’re doing all this because I locked you in a room, aren’t you? Because I didn’t let you get your own way.”
“You think I’m throwing a hissy fit because you locked me in a room? You really don’t know me at all.”
“That’s what it looks like.”
He really didn’t know me at all.
“I can’t—“I was so angry I couldn’t even come up with a reply. I stepped back from him.
“Only a Merric would be such a priss about things.”
Oh, he did not just—
“And you know so much about them.” Angry, I closed the gap I had made a moment before. “And about me.”
“More than you do, trust me on that.” He turned, heading back to the town, and added in a mutter, “And he thought you were different.”
“Who did?” I ran before him, but he didn’t answer. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I have done everything you asked. I ran away with you. I still don’t know where you are taking me or what you want from me. I know nothing about this place, and still I blindly follow you. I keep one thing from you, and you say I’m like the Merrics—you have no right!”
“One thing? Waverly, who are you kidding? You’re… You’re…” And at that moment, standing foot to foot in the rain, our eyes met and his were filled with such passion, I couldn’t tell if he wanted to sock me in the gut or kiss me.
Chapter 29
Nano Storm
Green lightning cracked above our heads. We jumped away from each other as another crashed sideways in the cloud, not touching the ground. Never had I seen green lightning.
“Trackers!” he cried. Without another word, his hand seized mine, and we raced into the woods.
Branches whipped my face. We both slid on the muddy ground. The woods were nothing for the cloud of trackers. They filled the space between trees. I fell. Greer slid before me on the rain-soaked ground and ran back, pulling me up by my armpits as the dark black cloud crackled, charged again with electricity. Power radiated in sizzles and clacks, and lightning burst sideways overhead.
I screamed. A large flock of birds soared over us. Greer yanked harder, and we ran again. The clouds grew, billowing green electricity mere feet away. We’d never outrun it.
Greer went faster, dragging me behind him.
A buck shot past us, followed by two does and a fawn. As we ran, I turned to see a bear trapped in the surge of trackers. Greer frantically searched the surrounding woods.
“Hold on!” he shouted. Over his shoulder, the clouds became clearer. They weren’t clouds at all but a swelling army of beetle-sized electronic machines.
Greer launched himself under the exposed roots of a tree, pulling me with him. He buried us down close to the roots of the trees, me on top of him. A belt slipped around my waist and his, buckling us together to the roots. To be safe, he squeezed me to him, burying my face into his shirt.
“Hold on,” he said.
I wrapped my arms around him and pushed my face into his chest. His heart pounded, and mine felt as though it would rip through my ribcage. I was acutely aware of everything. The hoofs of deer running past us, Greer’s taut arms, the uneasy pattern of my wild breathing. He smelled good, like rain and clover and mint and spice. I inhaled deeply. His smell disappeared in an instant as he doused our bodies with possibly the most repugnant spray in the world. Something like cat pee but stronger burned my nose. I wanted to pull my head up for fresh air, but his arms held me in a vice grip.
“Hold on, Waverly!” he cried.
There was a moment of intense silence and stink, and then they struck. Thousands on thousands of small electrical pulses shocked and washed over my body, lifting and tugging as the trackers raised us from the ground and into the roots. They jerked up, back and forth so hard, I thought I might lose him, but Greer locked his arms into a vice. We hovered
