THE CLOSER THE TRAM got to the platform, the harder Cat jammed the pistol into my ribs. The tram jolted to a stop, and we swayed a moment, waiting for soldiers to whip open the door.
No one did.
We stood there, unsure of what to do. Finally, Cat stepped around me and slid open the door.
There was no one there. The platform was empty.
“What’s going on?” I mouthed.
Cat shrugged and gave his head a shake.
We stepped out onto the platform, and that’s when we heard the sirens. Loud, screeching klaxons emanating from the fortress above us. We shared a look. Hope.
“Come on,” Cat said, and we hurried toward the tunnel.
Water dripped from the ceiling as our footsteps echoed against the stone walls. Our feet crunched on broken glass—a shattered lightbulb by the sounds of it. We didn’t say a word, fearing a Brown Shirt would appear at any moment. When we reached the elevator, we looked down the black tunnel behind us. Still no one in sight.
Cat pressed the brass button, and when the doors slid open, a rectangle of yellow light fell at our feet . . . and a soldier stood by the control panel.
“What do we have here?” he asked. A sweep of blond hair covered half his forehead.
“Less Than,” Cat said, disgusted. “Caught him down below.”
The Brown Shirt’s face hardened. “Why’d you bring him here? You know the directive. No more prisoners, especially tonight.”
“Thought Dr. Gallingham could try out some of his new medicines,” Cat said. “One final time.”
Judging from the Brown Shirt’s smile, it seemed he liked the idea. “Come on in. I’ll take you up top.”
Cat gave me a rough push and I stumbled forward, slamming into the elevator’s back wall. The operator laughed.
The doors whisked shut, and the elevator jerked upward.
“Probably wondering why you got an operator,” the Brown Shirt said.
“Crossed my mind,” Cat said.
“Something’s going on up top. Big fire by the garage. The president-elect put the place on lockdown. Everyone’s a little jumpy.”
“Yeah, the guy at the bottom said people were on edge.”
We were silent. The elevator hummed upward.
“The sentry at the bottom of the mountain told you that?” the soldier asked, absently sweeping a hand through his hair.
“That’s right.”
“Funny, ’cause he’s not answering his phone.”
“Probably dozing. The guy was half asleep when we talked to him.”
“We?”
“I,” Cat corrected himself.
More silence. Even with my jacket on, I could sense the tension from Cat’s muscles spilling into the gun, which in turn pressed into me.
“What’d you say your name was again?” the soldier asked.
“I didn’t.”
“Didn’t think you did, but it says right there, doesn’t it?” He pointed at the badge on Cat’s chest. “Dawkins, huh?”
“That’s right.”
“I always thought Dawkins was taller. Heavier, too.”
“Went on a diet the first of the year. Musta done the trick.”
“Yeah. Musta.”
The elevator inched skyward. I kept my head bowed, not daring to make eye contact with either the Brown Shirt or Cat. Which was why I heard but did not see the soldier whipping his pistol from its holster and training it on Cat. At the same time, Cat swung his own gun around until the two faced off: pistol against pistol.
“Now why don’t we cut the bullshit and you tell me who you really are,” the soldier said.
Cat’s jaw clenched. He didn’t speak.
“Nothing? All right. But we’ll be up top in another couple of seconds, and I’m sure my CO would love to hear your explanation. And if you try to shoot me before then, you know damn well I’ll pull my trigger at the exact same time.”
I believed him. I didn’t know about Cat, but I sure did.
The elevator slowed. In another second, the doors would slide open and we’d be marched straight to the soldier’s commanding officer. And who knew what would happen then?
So I did the one thing I could do: I lowered my shoulder and rammed it into the Brown Shirt. His gun went off—wham!—and a bullet lodged in the ceiling. The explosion was deafening, the sound waves bouncing off the elevator walls like a rubber ball. I turned myself around and pressed the red Emergency button; the elevator jolted to a stop.
At the same time, Cat took the butt of his gun and cracked it across the soldier’s chin. The Brown Shirt went stumbling into the far wall, out cold.
Cat turned to me. “You okay?” he asked.
“I can’t hear, if that’s what you asked. But yeah, I’m okay.”
Cat released the Emergency button, and we shuddered upward.
When the doors rattled open, we pushed the button for the bottom floor and stepped out as quickly as we could. The doors shut behind us and the elevator descended.
We had made it to the top of the mountain, but one glance told us we’d stepped into a hornet’s nest. Sirens sounded, klaxons clanged, and the glow of an inferno lit the sky. Soldiers ran in every possible direction—some with hoses, some with buckets of water, all with automatic rifles. How could we possibly find Hope in all this chaos?
Or were we too late? Had she already sacrificed her life to kill Chancellor Maddox? The mere thought of it sent the blood rushing from my head and nearly brought me to my knees.