THE AIR TURNS UNBEARABLY COLD. My mask’s filters become so frosted over I’m afraid they’ll clog up and suffocate me. By the time we stop for the night to make a fire, I’m practically in tears, missing the heating system in my room at the orphanage. I sit, warming my hands, and it isn’t until my fingers are tingling with warmth that I realize something has changed.
Mei’s sitting next to me, feeding branches into the fire, the two of us quiet. Kasim is gone.
“We’re here, then?” I ask.
“Yes, we’re here. You and Kasim are going in tomorrow.”
I flex my fingers in front of the flames one more time before tearing myself away from the warmth to take out our cooking pot and tripod. Of course, the two heaviest things we’re carrying ended up in my pack. As I pull out the collapsible tripod, my sleeve snags on the front pocket of my pack, dragging it open.
The bottle of Mantis I stole from the City sits inside the open pocket, cushioned by my half-full waterskin. I pocket the bottle of pills and the waterskin, then carry the pot and tripod over to the fire and set them up. Mei dumps a ration pack into the pot and adds some water, stirring it around impatiently, though it will be a while before the fire is hot enough to cook anything.
“Here.” I hold out the Mantis and the waterskin, already looking up into the trees for a good spot to place my hammock. When she doesn’t take it, I look back down, give the pills a shake. “Did you already take some?”
“No.” She takes the bottle, turning it over in her hands. “Are you in charge of monitoring my medication now?”
“I was just trying to be nice.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a nice person.” I shrug, throwing the waterskin back into my pack when she doesn’t take it. I unroll my hammock, then go back to looking up in the trees for a likely spot to set the ropes, already shivering at the idea of sleeping suspended in the wind.
“Are you?” Mei asks, and when I look at her, her eyebrow is cocked. “I’m not sure I see it.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” I think of the way seeing Mei with Kasim made me realize how little of her personality I’d seen before. “You haven’t had a chance to see very much of me, though.”
Mei snickers.
My eyes come back down. “What?”
“I just didn’t realize you wanted me to see more of you.” She puts her hands up, looking me up and down before pointing at my tightly laced boots. “Are we starting with ankles?”
“That’s not what I…” But all I can see is that smile of hers. The same one from the first day I saw her outside the heli—too pointed for her to be the good little Second Mother would have invited home for tea. “Right. Where should we put our hammocks?” The freezing cold isn’t the only thing prickling through me. I almost wish I could double up with one of the Menghu just for shared warmth, but Kasim would probably suffocate me on purpose, and Mei…
Mei is still snickering and would take it the wrong way. And now I’m stuck with the idea of me and Mei tangled up in a hammock. I only just keep from rolling my eyes at myself, managing to set my thoughts back on the focused path where they belong. Mei is pretty, and if I were a normal person, maybe I’d think more about it. But I’m not a normal person, whatever that means, and neither is she.
“Don’t worry, Major Hong.” Mei stands up, her freckles lost in the twilight. Bending down, she brushes against me to dig into her pack. I look away, certain my cheeks are too red to blame it on cold. “You might look nice enough on the outside, but I don’t need to see any more to know exactly what you are on the inside.”
The heat bleeds from my cheeks fast enough when Mei pulls out Captain Bai’s knife. Next comes some kind of root, which she begins to violently peel, the skins going into the fire under our cooking pot. “Kasim’ll be a while, so if you’re going to come up with something other than stuttering, now’s the time to fight back.” She waits for a second, and I shrug, not sure if I’m supposed to make uncomfortable remarks about her now. Like an argument, but with more leering? No thanks.
She rolls her eyes when nothing comes out of me but a fog of frozen air. “He was supposed to report more than a week ago, but we’ve got a story that should check out. And it’s Guonian tomorrow, so there’s a good chance any patrols out here will be distracted. Everyone will be wishing they were inside.”
Guonian? Thoughts of warm fire and sticky cakes steam inside my head. Of my parents, my grandparents before they passed on, all of us tucked together at home as if nothing existed but us. A wave of homesickness washes over me at being out here in the snow with no one but Mei for company when I should be safe inside with the people I love most. The moon is dark overhead. I should have remembered.
“Kasim will let me know when to…” Mei looks up from skinning the root, her hands going still when she sees my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Never been away from home for holidays, Major?” She hefts the knife, brandishing it like the weapon it is. “Or were you wishing for a fancier meal?”
Her words are sneer-free, though, as if she’s actually asking. “I’m fine,” I respond, keeping my voice flat. Life and reality are what they are, and showing discontent only reflects poorly on the one with no self-control.
I think that might be a quote from one of Chairman Sun’s pamphlets. The idea that it’s a lying murderer’s words that occur to me first makes me feel sick to my stomach. “When we’re done here, I’d really appreciate having that knife back. Captain Bai loaned it to me.”
Mei wipes it clean and stuffs it in her pocket. “I don’t think he’ll—” Her voice cuts off abruptly as she swivels toward the trees into which Kasim disappeared.
“What?” I ask. “Did you hear someth—”
“Shut up. We’ve got to move.” She hisses, kicks dirt over the fire, and then, using her coat to protect her hand, she pulls the pot and the cooking tripod from over the still-flaring wood and hides them behind a rock. Taking my cue from her, I stomp at the flames until they’re dead, a note of panic singing high inside me.
She grabs her pack, gesturing for me to take mine, so I throw my pack’s straps over my shoulders and then pick up Kasim’s, hugging his things to my chest as I follow her into the darkness. Wind whistles between tree trunks, icing my cheeks and forehead, but it isn’t long before I see the glow of another fire in the trees.
We leave the packs behind a boulder—Mei runs an eye over Kasim’s things as if by touching them I’ve somehow violated something sacred—then head toward the fire. Once we’re closer, I make out three shapes huddled around the fire, a bird roasting over the flames.
Mei puts a hand out to stop me, her gloved palm against my ribs. I pull away, tucking my coat closer around me. “I thought we were staying away from Menghu patrols,” I whisper.
“You think they are Menghu?” She raises an eyebrow as she looks back at me.
I squint into the darkness, and my eyes find a falcon-and-beaker insignia etched into the closest soldier’s coat. They’re Seconds. Like me.