“What made you think you could murder Zea-Mays in cold blood?” Vitelotte rubs the edge of the blade down Minnie’s neck.
Through stuttering breaths, Minnie explains that the camera drones broadcast on a certain frequency, which she blocked using a passcode she got from Ingrid. The cameras attached to our clothes send footage to the storage devices on our belts, and they were planning to burn those along with my body.
“Please.” Minnie raises a hand. “If you let me go, I’ll turn spy.” She gasps out a sob. “I’ll warn you about Ingrid’s plans.”
Vitelotte raises the ax and pretends she’s going to swing. “How do I know you’re not saying that to save yourself?”
Her eyes bulk. “I wouldn’t—”
The blade lodges into the side of Minnie’s neck.
Shock knocks all the air from my lungs. The flashlight slips from my fingers, and I fall to my knees.
Vitelotte rushes to my side and clutches my arms. “Zea!” Panic raises her voice several octaves. “Zea-Mays, what happened?”
The eye that isn’t throbbing in time with my panicked heart fills with tears. My insides feel hollow, my lungs won’t work, and I struggle for air.
Somehow, I manage to rasp, “You killed them both.”
“She pointed a gun into your eye.” Her fingers dig into the fabric of my jumpsuit, and she gives me a hard shake. “The other one admitted they were going to kill you. Didn’t you hear her confession?”
I did, but we had that girl on her knees, and… Possibilities stream through my mind. If we released her, she would report us for the murder of her friend. If we let her become our spy, she might turn double-agent and lead us into a trap. Maybe Vitelotte was right, and I’m being naive, but there had to be a better way than murdering a defenseless girl.
A little voice in the back of my mind reminds me that I’m no different from Vitelotte. I wanted to stop Ingrid’s heart with two jabs of a poisoned dart and I also killed Berta.
Raising my head, I give Vitelotte a nod. “You’re right.”
She releases my jumpsuit and straightens. The ax hangs in my line of sight, its blade still glistening with Minnie’s blood.
“I did this for you,” she says.
“Thanks,” I whisper. It’s an automatic response, and part of me still wishes there was a way out of the Trials that didn’t result in deaths.
“You don’t hear what the other girls say about you,” she murmurs. “Half of them want you dead.”
I make what I hope is a grunt of understanding, knowing that she’s only half-right. The group of people plotting my death doesn’t only extend to the girls.
Vitelotte walks to the Guardians’ backpacks, which are thicker than the ones we found in our jeep. The flashlight lies on its side, illuminating the unmoving bodies. I turn away from them to watch my murderous companion rifle through their contents and pull out a bottle of clear fluid.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“Burning the forensic evidence, just like they planned for us.”
Us. My belly roils. I’m sure these girls shot at us and tried to make us both fall into a river of giant, man-eating reptiles. Even if Vitelotte had survived their attempt to kill me, they would have eliminated her to protect themselves.
It’s too late to feel squeamish. I could have broken away from Vitelotte but I didn’t. Now that she has protected me, it’s time for me to help protect her.
I reach into my pack, pull out a penknife, and kneel at Minnie’s side. The scent of burned plastic and singed hair stings my sinuses. I press my fingers into her pulse, and the warmth of her body seeps into my skin. When I feel no beat, I place my palm over her nose to check that she’s not breathing.
“What are you doing?” Vitelotte stands over me, holding the bottle of QuickBurn.
“We’re not burning them alive.” I shuffle a few steps to Tulip and roll her close to Minnie’s side.
After checking that she’s dead, I rise to my feet, step back, and let Vitelotte pour the liquid on the girls’ bodies.
What would they call my actions? An accessory to murder, or an accomplice? After emptying the bottle, she slides it into her backpack and guides me to stand away. I back toward the trees and watch her set a twig alight with the gas-lighter.
“Go on.” She hands me the burning twig, takes off her belt, and throws it onto the pile.
With one touch of the fire, Tulip’s chest is alight. Violet flames spread across her body and fill the air with the acrid scent of burning plastic. As the flames jump onto Minnie’s corpse, I unbuckle my belt and add it to the funeral pyre. Heat radiates over my skin. I step back, and something cracks beneath my feet. It’s Minnie’s tablet computer.
“We’d better burn all their things.” I throw the gadget onto the fire, which bursts into yellow flames and black smoke.
Vitelotte tosses something at me, which lands on my feet with a clink. “Not until we deal with Ingrid and the other Guardian.”
I pick up a gun and gulp. She’s right. Ingrid is out there somewhere, and we’re going to need every advantage to survive. As the tablet computer crackles and pops, I turn from the fire and pick up one of the Guardians’ backpacks.
“Let’s get out of here before someone comes to investigate,” she mutters.
As we leave the clearing and step under the branch of a sprawling oak, I cast the funeral pyre one last glance. Even though those Guardian girls tried to kill me, I can’t help but wonder about their families. The grief on General and Doctor Ridgeback’s faces still stings like a slap, and I can’t forget the general’s accusing eyes as I stood on the stage and rejoined the Princess Trials.
Dried leaves crack underfoot, and each time I step on a twig, my body flinches. Owls hoot, cicadas chirp, and clawed feet skitter over the branches, but nothing
