SHADOWS JUMP AND TWIST ON the tent wall, the flickers of a dying fire dancing across the fabric. They insisted we take the tent tonight. Even the little girl—June—is sleeping outside. We caught a glimpse of the scarf tied tight around her head before Tian dragged her out of the clearing to gather more wood for the fire. Cas has been planted nearby ever since.
The dirty sweat smell is stifling trapped inside the tent walls, fogging all the way up to where the ceiling is tagged UNIT 314 in bold characters. It makes my mind sink down deep, wondering what happened to the Outside patrollers who must have been the original owners of this tent.
There’s barely enough space for Howl and me, canvas wall inches from my nose as I try to make enough room for the two of us to lie down without touching.
Howl spreads out in front of the doorway, palming my knife against his leg, Tai-ge’s name peeking out through his fingers. When I asked why they didn’t confiscate it, or at least search us for other weapons, Howl shrugged. “I don’t think they’re worried about us taking them by surprise.”
The shadow moves outside, circling around to the other side of the fire.
“What if he just stays there?” I whisper.
Howl glances back at me, shifting a little to allow us to talk, “He’s going to. And I think Liming and Parhat are probably watching the other side so we can’t cut out the back.”
We have to get out tonight. That or face the morning with no Mantis for me. “Are you going to try to sleep?”
“No.” His voice is flat.
“Staying up won’t help if . . .”
“I won’t let anyone come in here, Sev. You’re safe with me, I promise.” His eyes are black pools in the dark, but I know he is looking at me. “Sleep. One of us should.”
Sleep? With Cas’s shadow outlined against the tent wall? But some part of me—the part that is tired and hurting from running—says that there is no point in trying to stay awake. If we are going to die, there isn’t anything Howl can do. Promises of safety don’t mean anything when SS waits outside in the dark, only feet away. And my eyes are so tired, drooping as fatigue twists tighter and tighter around my brain. . . .
That is, until a knife slits through the tent wall a foot above my head.
I roll away from the weapon slashing down toward me, crashing into Howl’s back and knocking him onto his stomach. A hand slips in through the gash and folds the flap back, Liming’s head appearing through the gap.
He puts a finger to his lips and gestures for us to follow.
Howl and I look at each other. He slithers over me to the rip in the tent, his eyes locked on my face and then skittering away as he touches the rent canvas. “Stay close to me,” he whispers, lightly touching my arm. “And be ready to run.”
Liming stops us just outside the tent and breaks a quicklight, bathing us in the dim yellow light. He hands me a leaf, folded in two.
Unfolding the leaf, I accidentally tear the green waxy surface, a syrupy substance bleeding out all over my hands. In the center, dark charcoal spells out one word. REBELS?
Howl looks from the leaf to Liming, thinking hard. Then nods once.
What does that mean? Rebels?
Liming pulls us farther along so we are away from the fire, away from Cas’s ears. He gestures for us to stay, then walks around a tree, leaving us in darkness.
“What is he doing?” I don’t realize that I’ve spoken out loud until Howl puts a hand on my shoulder. Reassuring, I think. Or maybe just trying to make me be quiet.
The light returns after a few minutes, this time two shadows bobbing in its wake. The quicklight’s sickly glow gives the dirty yellow scarf tied over her head a greenish halo. June.
It’s hard to tell in the dark, but she looks about twelve, shadows under her eyes carving her face into something more than the child she should be. Her eyes stay fixed on the ground, and I can see her hands clenching and unclenching around the straps of the rucksack on her back.
Liming puts a hand on her shoulder, and then points to me. Grasping his hands together, he points again at me, then at June. Another leaf comes, the word ESCAPE scratched out in shaky strokes.
The unwavering glow of the quicklight lines Howl’s face with hard, unforgiving hollows. I can feel refusal blossoming in his throat even before his lips have time to move. The air almost boils with anticipation and violence.
I speak before Howl can shush me. “You’ll help us escape if we take her? Yes. We’ll do it.”
Howl’s arm around me tightens. His face is bland, but the whisper in my ear is clear. “We don’t know anything about her. The rest of the family will have twice the reason to come after us, even if she doesn’t kill us herself.”
Liming bows his head, his face crumpled with emotion. Anger and grief twisted in an all-too-human mask. The leaf crumbles in his hand, pieces fluttering to the ground.
June watches them fall, hardly even breathing.
“Is she infected?” I ask in a whisper.
A quick jerk of his head says no.
“Are you?”
His bright green eyes lift from the ground, yellowed and wolflike in the quicklight. A nod. After a pause, he points back to the tent and the clearing, circling his finger in the air with another quick nod.
“You all are. Except for June.”
He bows his head.
“But Parhat, he’s so much worse. . . .” Even Tian and Cas seem sane compared to Parhat, if not exactly cuddly. Wouldn’t SS have changed them, too?
“SS doesn’t progress the same way in everyone.” Howl’s voice is quiet, even for a whisper as he turns back to Liming. “Why didn’t you just follow us back to our supplies?”
Liming puts an arm around June and lifts her face with a soft touch. She looks at us for the first time, and her green eyes pierce right through me. It only lasts a second before her stare is back in the dirt.
“She’s your daughter?” The sentence cracks and splinters as it presses its way out of my mouth into the heavy air.
Liming’s arm encircling June slips down to her hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. A nod. Almost a smile. A proud smile.
Something opens up inside of me, tears burning behind my eyes as I take in that smile. Longing. Wishing for something that can never be mine. “We’ll take her with us. We’ll make sure she’s safe.” A promise I can only hope to keep. But the words are out.
Liming wraps his arms around June, pulling her tight against him. She doesn’t move, woodenly enduring the hug. When he lets her go, I can see tears on her downturned cheeks.
He nods to Howl and walks back into the trees.
It’s a tightrope walk back to the packs. I feel eyes everywhere, each attached to a gun sight trained on my back as if I’m stuck in a Liberation movie, an audience waiting for any of us to trip, for a gun’s metal voice. All we need is some dramatic background music.
About the time we lose sight of the fire, a gunshot sounds through the woods. We drop to the ground, a small hand finding mine in the dirt. A larger one wraps around my other wrist, thumb running across my palm. My lungs refuse to expand, my whole body waiting for Cas’s leathery scowl to appear over us in the dark.
The hand around my wrist lifts me up. “He’s leading them away. They’re running in the other direction,” Howl whispers.
Pulling June behind us, I follow Howl to the packs. Howl holds mine up while my cold fingers fumble to clasp the straps around my hips and chest. As he grapples with his pack, I watch June. The moon is dark, but even the night can’t hide her huddled outline on the ground, shoulders shaking.
No time to talk now.
Howl grabs my hand, I grab June’s, and we run.