Nausea swirls through my insides, and the muscles of my stomach spasm. It doesn’t matter how many guards they post in Rugosa. There are enough weapons underground to arm every Red Runner, and I’m guessing there are plenty of us in the crowd.
Queen Damascena has just made a fatal mistake.
Chapter 16
My leg muscles tremble so much that I clutch the edges of the lectern to keep from falling. The crowd roars loud enough to make my ears ring, their volume punctuated by gunshots.
Tears sting my eyes, and I can’t stop blinking. My sinuses tingle with a familiar but unpleasant sensation. Feet below us, wisps of white smoke seep through gaps between the people, who stop surging. I inhale a sharp breath and fill my nostrils with the scent of onions. This has to be cepa gas that Prunella Broadleaf streamed into the room I shared with Gemini and Berta.
“Zea-Mays.” Carolina raises her head and meets my eyes, her face twisted with anguish. “Don’t let them—”
One of the guards kicks her in the back of her head, and she drops face-first onto the stage. Shock hits me in the gut. I rear back and clutch at my face. I can’t defy Queen Damascena by helping them. Vitelotte crawls over to Carolina’s fallen body. The guard aims an electroshocker at her, but she catches his foot, and drags him to the ground.
Her father stomps on the fallen guard’s ribcage, making him scream. Another guard rushes at him with a raised fist. Mr. Solar charges at his attacker and knocks him into the crowd.
With a triumphant cheer, they swallow him up in a rain of kicks, and the crowd bellows for blood.
Spasms squeeze my heart, and I can barely focus on the words flashing across the screen. A guard on my left shoots at the Harvesters storming up the stage’s steps, and I swallow back a cry. No matter what, I must complete this speech.
Before I can read the words on the screen, a guard grabs my wrist and flips me over his shoulder.
My stomach lurches, and a scream tears from my lips. He sprints across the stage like a maniac, securing my leg to his chest with a muscular arm. With the last of my strength, I thrash my legs, pull on his gas mask, and pound my fists against his armor, but he only tightens his grip. Cold sweat breaks out across my skin. If I don’t get back on that stage, it will mean death for Vitelotte, Carolina, her father, her brother, and those babies.
Hisses sound from beneath us, and I turn back to the crowd. The wisps of white smoke become opaque clouds that engulfs the mass of rioters, who stop shouting to cough and choke. Smoke fills my mouth and burns the back of my throat. Tears blur my eyes, and I can’t even rub away the sting. Even if I wriggled free, there’s no way I could stand onstage, let alone see the monitor.
My abductor leaps down the stairs, and dashes through the cordon of guards into a side-door. It slams shut, muffling the crowd. My eyes don’t hurt as much as they did last time, but they won’t stop streaming. I’ve failed, but maybe this smokescreen will give some of the captives onstage a chance to escape.
The guard rushes through a maze of hallways. We pass the medical center, where we get our annual vaccines, and the mayor’s office, where Carolina once worked. At the end of the walkway, he presses his palm on a wall panel. Another door opens, letting out a gust of warm air. As soon as he steps inside, the guard loosens his grip.
“Let go!” I raise a fist and punch him hard in the chest.
He pulls off his gas mask and groans. “Zea.”
My muscles stiffen. “Kevon?”
“Please, stop fighting me.”
We’re moving through one of the pockets at the back of the dome that contains folded-up tables for rations day, cardboard boxes containing canned food, and crates of vodka. A hum fills the air, and I turn to find the curved wall lined with a row of solar generators. Prince Kevon heads toward the back door, showing no sign of setting me to my feet.
“What are you doing?” I hiss.
“Saving you from becoming the most hated girl in the Harvester Region,” he replies, still carrying me through the cramped space. “I woke up in the middle of the night to find that someone leaked this footage onto Netface, and I got to Rugosa as quickly as I could.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. The ministers must have released that awful speech for those who mistrust the Lifestyle Channel. This is their retaliation to whoever’s showing the truth on NetFace. Those wretched Nobles are desperate to discredit me.
At the end of the walkway, he sets me on my feet, where a pile of black armor lies on the floor.
“Put this on.” Prince Kevon turns his back. “How on earth did Lady Circi convince you to put on such an outfit and say those terrible things?”
My mind blanks and all the moisture shrivels in my throat. If Queen Damascena discovers I told him the truth, her people would probably kill Mom and Dad before we reach them. Everyone is either in the dome or on the square.
I move the boots aside and shoulder on the jacket. It’s a little big but anything is better than this awful dress. After slipping a pair of oversized pants, I kick off my heels, put my feet in the boots, and tuck the skirt of the dress into my jacket.
“How much of my speech did you hear?” I ask.
“Everything,” he replies. “What’s happening?”
“This place isn’t safe,” I mutter.
He raises his head toward the blinking light of a ceiling camera. “Outside, then.”
We walk along an uncovered patch of wall, where Prince Kevon places his gas mask over my head, encasing me in the scent of rubber. After tightening my mask and putting on
