The Dreamless flashed in my mind every time I blinked. Lurching white hands, blank eyes, and withered skin. Was that what happened when you touched the Darkness? It turned you into that?
Calm down, Owen. You’re safe.
Or as safe as I could be, anyway, when I was trapped inside a disaster story.
We scrambled back, Iris with her pack full of objects, me with far less. We passed a robot, but it barely had time to say, “Hello . . . STORMWALKERS,” before we were past it and pelting toward the market square.
It was deserted. Iris grabbed my arm and dragged me on.
“This way,” she said.
There was a small building near the edge of camp, almost a hut, but not quite, the sort of thing you see next to train stations in quiet villages.
Iris sprinted toward it, bursting through the door.
Quinn was hunched over a desk. All across the wall behind it were screens and dials—dozens of dials. He looked up, frowning. There were two other people in there too. I recognized the man I saw as we burst into camp on my first trip here. The third person was a woman; an LRP officer I’d never seen before.
“You two are back early,” Quinn said.
“Dreamless,” Iris panted, “over by Regent Street.”
“Was it them?” he said, jumping to his feet. Iris shook her head. “Okay, good. Stay here and grab something to eat. We’ll take care of it . . .”
I shot Iris a look, wondering what Quinn had meant. “Was it who?”
All the color drained from her cheeks. In the pallid glow of the lights she looked like a ghost. Quinn nodded at the woman, who set off in the direction we’d just come from. He stood up and started rummaging through a cabinet beside the table.
The quiet stretched for so long I thought Iris was going to ignore the question, but then she spoke in this tiny, low voice, and it was all I could do just to hear the words.
“My parents,” she said. “They got caught by the storm back in the City. It got them just as they reached the barrier. They tried to Cleanse them, but . . .”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
The words sounded so pathetic, lingering there between us.
“I’ve seen Dad once since we got here. What used to be Dad, anyway. I don’t know how he got so far from the City without a ship, but Quinn said Dreamless can walk for days in search of . . .”
I knew what she couldn’t say. It was there in Jack’s thoughts, bubbling to the surface. In search of people. They were drawn to us, drawn to what they used to be, before the endless fear warped their minds and bodies.
No wonder she was so determined for me to go back to Cleansing when I first jumped here. I didn’t know about the camp or the City or Stormwalking or the Dreamless. I didn’t know anything, and she thought the Cleansing hadn’t worked. She thought the storm was going to turn me into one of those things.
“That’s why I volunteered,” Iris said. “My brother went to live with my aunt and uncle, but they couldn’t afford the space for me. And anyway, you heard the ads. Do well here, and your family will get rewarded.”
I stared at her. I didn’t know what to say. She turned away, gazing at the radio—
There was a crackle of static, then a voice came through.
“This is Icarus 1, do you read?”
The fog in my head evaporated on the spot. Jack’s thoughts screamed to the front of my mind. My heart leapt into my throat, trying to beat its way out of my body.
“This is Icarus 1, do you copy? Is anybody out there? The City is dead. Repeat, the City is dead. We need to initiate Operation Phoenix.”
Every bit of air squeezed out of my lungs. That voice . . . I knew it from somewhere. But what did he mean about the City being dead? Surely if it was, we’d know about it by now. Wouldn’t we? Jack’s brother, Ayden, was there. I could see his face as clear as if it were my own. I saw all of them, the crowd of people back behind the fence, waving as our airship set off, drifting higher and higher into the air. We were supposed to save them. They couldn’t be dead . . .
Iris was standing there, her mouth hanging open.
James was the first to react. He slammed a button on the dashboard. “We read you, Icarus 1,” he said. “Icarus 3, reading you loud and clear.”
Silence.
Iris’s eyes were wide. My own face was frozen. If the City was dead, what did that mean for us? Were we the last survivors? Just us, and the other Icarus projects?
Quinn turned to Iris, then back to me, as if seeing us clearly for the first time. I couldn’t read the expression on his face.
“It’s good to hear your voice, Icarus 3. What are your coordinates? We’ve got a pre-Dark airbase here—we think we might be able to reach you.”
“One one one, three two—”
Quinn slammed his fist on a button, and the line went dead.
James gaped at him.
What had just happened? I thought the whole point of setting up this camp was to find somewhere to live, and then to tell people about it. The Marshal said they’d never had any word from Icarus 1 or 2, so this was the first contact they’d ever made, and Quinn just cut them off?
“Quinn!” Iris said.
“What are you doing? Quinn, that was—”
“I know what it was,” Quinn said, holding up his hands defensively. “But we need to tell the Marshal about it. It could be a trap. We don’t know the City’s dead—for all we know, Icarus 1 might be compromised.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” James said pleadingly, “my . . . my family—Quinn, if they’re dead . . .”
“We don’t know that they are,” Quinn said gently. “Our first priority has to be the safety of this camp. We need to keep this quiet, at least for now. If the City is dead, the Marshal will know what to do. We can reestablish contact after we’ve spoken to him. If word got out . . .”
James sat down, breathing heavily. He held his head in his hands.
“You’re right. Of course you are. The Marshal . . . yes . . .”
“James—help Sarah deal with the Dreamless,” Quinn said, before turning to face us. There was a look in his eyes that I couldn’t figure out. “I’ll take care of this.”
I couldn’t get control of Jack’s thoughts. It felt like icicles were stabbing my mind, all the images swirling and swirling.
Then it hit me. What was so familiar about that voice.
The man on the radio . . . he was Jack’s dad.
He was alive. After everything! They’d taken him away from the City, shoved him on board with the other Stormwalkers on Icarus 1, and now he’d managed to find us. He was alive! This was it. This was what I had to do. I had to get through to him. I had to let him know I was okay.
“Come on,” Quinn said. “We better go.”
He led us to the church, the only building on the market square that remained mostly intact. My stomach churned with every step. I breathed slowly, trying to calm down. I could feel my legs moving, but it was as if they were controlled by someone else.
Jack’s dad was alive!
But . . . if the City really was dead, then what did that mean for the rest of Jack’s family? For all their families? We were supposed to be here to save the City. To build them a new home and let them know about it, so they could send people here to live—to survive. Had it all been for nothing?
We stopped outside the church. The oak double doors had been eaten away and replaced with moth-eaten curtains, which hung either side of the arch. Quinn waited for a few Stormwalkers to pass, taking their scavenged items to the stalls on the square, then he bent low, his expression grave.
“Listen to me very carefully,” he said. “I know you’ll have questions about what you just heard. Trust me, I do too. But for your own safety, you have to ignore it. Just for now. Promise me you won’t mention it. You won’t go round asking questions. If the Marshal finds out what you just heard, then . . .”
“Quinn . . . ,” Iris said.
“Trust me. I’ll find you soon, and explain it all then. But for now, just . . . just get back to the timetable. You’ve still got time before the daylight pocket closes. Don’t mention this to anybody.”
He turned to me, as if he wanted to say more, but the words had got stuck. Eyes watering, he whirled on the spot and marched through the curtains.
My heart was beating loud and hard. I didn’t know if the City really was dead, but I did know one thing. Jack’s dad wasn’t a liar.
I turned to Iris. Her face was ashen. Of course . . . if that message was true, then she’d lost her aunt and uncle, and her brother too. So many lives lost . . .
“You remember when you asked about the Chamber?” she said.
“Yeah?”
“It’s below this building. This is where they take the people who break the rules.” She crept up to the curtains, pressing her ear up against them. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
But before I could reply, she snuck inside.
“Iris—wait!”
Hesitating just for a second, to make sure no one was watching, I followed her. There were no pews inside the church. Just an empty space with boarded-up windows, a muddy flagstone floor, and the gray sky instead of a roof.
Up ahead, where the altar should have been, there was a desk and a high-backed chair. The Marshal was sitting in it, listening to someone whispering in his ear.
His face . . . he didn’t look anything like the cheering, inspiring man who had encouraged everyone in the hall the other night. His sunken eyes looked too small for his head, and his skin was chalky and stretched too thin. He looked tired—and something else . . . He looked mad.
“What is it?” he said, waving the first man away as Quinn approached.
“There’s been contact on the radio.”
“What?” The Marshal’s nostrils flared. “The radio tower’s supposed to be broken.”
“It is. The main one, for communicating with the City. None of the guys on my team will ever be able to get through, just like you wanted. But the short-range beacons have always been active. The contact came from Icarus 1.”
“What did they say?” the Marshal demanded.
“That the City is dead. Only James heard it,” Quinn said quickly. “I managed to convince him it would be dangerous to talk to them without your permission.”
“Good,” the Marshal said. “Very good. Has he been to Cleansing yet this week?”
“I don’t think so . . .”
“He can go today. Oversee the questioning. Make sure he knows we’ve only been here six months. The City is alive and well. There’s been no contact from the other Icarus projects, but we’re holding out hope. You know the drill.”
Quinn turned, and I ducked down low, holding my breath. I didn’t dare look up. I strained my ears, listening for any footsteps on the flagstone floor. But none came. He must have still been over by the Marshal’s desk. Had he seen me? I glanced at Iris beside me. Her eyes were wide. If we got discovered . . . best not to think about that.
“What is it?” said the Marshal. “What are you waiting for?”
“What?”
“On the radio. It was Ryan. You told me he died with the others, back in the City. I’ve been looking after Jack, thinking his dad was dead, but all this time he’s been alive.”
I couldn’t hide anymore. I had to look up. I had to see.
Quinn was standing over the desk, towering over the Marshal. Even from here I could see he was shaking. Jack’s thoughts were going crazy. I tried to hold them at bay, so I could listen properly. I wanted to move closer, but I didn’t dare.
“He hid that boy from us,” the Marshal said. “He hid a duplicate.”
“So did thousands of others. Did you send them on a ship too?”
“He was a Marshal—”
“This is about the vote of no confidence, isn’t it? He was going to get you deposed as head of the council. You were going to be exiled, and you didn’t want any of it. You were hoping he’d die, weren’t you? Well how’s that plan looking now? He’s alive! We could unite with them. It’s what we have to do. What’s stopping me from getting him back on the line?”
“The boy,” the Marshal said coldly. The silence that followed was the loudest I’d ever heard. “If you make one move—one move—the boy gets it. Do you understand?”