Eight

My legs and arms were quaking by the time we reached the apartment. Every muscle in my body had been on high alert during the train ride. Even huddled against each other in the back of the subway car with Penn’s hat pulled down as far as it would go over his face, we’d stiffened at every glance from every stranger, like the next time the doors opened, the police would rush in to grab us.

But none had.

Penn gripped my shoulders in his big hands. “Are you sure this is the right choice? Maybe we should just run. We could go south this time. To Mexico. We could live on the beach in a tent and fish for our food. We could forget any of this ever happened. These people aren’t our responsibility.”

I smiled sadly. “You know we can’t.”

Penn closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against mine. “I know.” He sighed and then released me. “Let’s do this then.”

I knocked on the door and held my breath.

Jane’s face, streaked with mascara, appeared in the doorway. “Thank God!” she said, pulling the two of us into a hug. “We didn’t know what to think. There was no way to get ahold of you with the phones gone. We thought about heading out to look for you, but it’d be like trying to find a needle in a haystack, and with the news coverage…” She stopped talking, her eyes wide. “You guys, something really bad happened.”

She led us into the living room where Markus and Ian sat slumped on the sofa, their gazes glued to the TV. Dave stared out the window with his back to us.

“We heard,” I said.

Jane glanced uncomfortably at Markus, who muted the sound. The television continued to flicker, recycling the same images we’d seen earlier.

“Please tell us it isn’t true,” Penn said.

Markus threw his hands in the air. “See!” he said. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. If they believed it, we’re screwed.”

Jane sighed.

“It wasn’t us,” Ian said, leaning forward. “If that’s what you mean.”

Penn caught my eye and held my gaze. Could we trust they were telling us the truth? I gave him a little nod. It wasn’t just that I wanted to believe them. I needed to.

“Honestly, we were afraid,” I said, looking straight at Markus. “After what you said yesterday, we couldn’t help it.”

My gaze drifted to the television screen.

“That’s exactly what they wanted,” Markus said.

“Who?” I asked.

“The people who did this.” He pointed to the burned shell of the training facility, his hand shaking. “They know we’re weak. They know they’ve debilitated us with that attack at the warehouse. This is their last blow. They just severed the limb from the head, and now they’re just waiting for us to bleed to death.”

“So you think it’s NuPet?” Penn asked.

“Of course it’s NuPet,” Markus said. “Who else would it be?”

“It doesn’t seem too crazy to believe it could be another group like us. Or even our same group,” Penn said. “Maybe everybody else at headquarters felt the way you did. Maybe this was their way of striking back. You can’t know that for sure.”

“Yes, I can!” Markus’s voice exploded, echoing through the room.

Dave’s sister appeared in the doorway. “Dave! Can I speak with you?”

He turned slowly from his spot at the window with a dazed look on his face, taking the group of us in as if he was only then noticing he wasn’t alone in the room.

Markus glared at him. “Go ahead,” he said. “It’s not like you’re being a big help here.”

“Lay off him,” Jane said. “You aren’t making this any easier.”

“I’ll be right back,” Dave muttered, ignoring Jane’s words as much as he ignored Markus’s. He followed his sister out the front door.

As soon as the latch shut, Jane turned on Markus. “Are you trying to tear us apart?” she asked. “Because it’s working.”

“He’s useless,” Markus muttered.

“He’s just as stunned as you are,” she said.

“Well, he can’t tune out and give up,” Markus said. “It’s that sort of worried, weak attitude that’s going to get us all killed.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Maybe you should be less worried about Dave’s attitude and more worried about the fact the police might show up at this door any minute and arrest us for a bombing we had nothing to do with.”

“Don’t tell me what to worry about.”

Jane folded her arms over her chest. The skin on her neck had turned red and blotchy. “It wouldn’t matter if I did. It’s not like you listen anyway,” she said. “I’ll be in the bedroom if you decide you want to have an actual conversation about this.”

She stormed out of the room, and Markus glared after her. When the door closed, he sank back into the couch and blew out a breath. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Maybe I overreacted.”

Ian snorted. “It’s been a shitty week.”

“The pinnacle of shitty,” Markus agreed. “I don’t know how much more of this we can handle before we completely fall apart. It’s bad enough we’re fighting an uphill battle against people who are richer and more powerful than we are, but at least that’s a real fight. I’ll chase down those NuPet bastards and every single person they have wrapped around their fingers. At this point, I’m not sure I’d even feel bad bombing those assholes. But let me bomb them. Let me decide my own evil. I’ll own it. I’ll own every drop of blood I shed. But this…” He gestured at the television. “This isn’t my fight. It’s fake!”

The scene on the TV looked all too real to me, but I understood what he meant. Those weren’t our sins being broadcast across the nation. Miss Gellner’s death wasn’t ours, even if they wanted to thrust it at us.

Penn backed away from the TV, his jaw clenching and unclenching as if worry had become something solid to chew on. He looked even more unsettled than he had during the subway ride back to the apartment.

I took his hand and led him toward the door. “I think we should get some air.”

“I wouldn’t go far,” Markus called after us.

In the hallway, Penn dropped my hand and distractedly pressed the elevator button until the bell dinged and the door slid open. Inside, he leaned against the wall, and repeatedly tapped the button for the top floor.

Penn was normally a rock, steady and solid, but that newscast had clearly upset him. “Are you okay?” I asked.

He rubbed a hand over his face. “I just need some air,” he said. “I don’t like apartment buildings like this.”

We came to a stop, and I followed Penn out into a small atrium. Above our heads, the glass ceiling was grimy with dirt and pigeon droppings, but a bit of sun filtered down. I caught sight of the city skyline and, past it, blue sky spotted with clouds.

Penn pushed his way through the atrium’s doors onto the small rooftop patio. A gust of wind whipped past our faces, and he raised his head up, breathing deeply.

It was clear not many people used the space. There were a few wooden benches, gray and weathered, pushed up near the wall, but it didn’t look like they’d been used in years. A few neglected topiaries withered in pots by the building’s edge where a brick pathway wound past the atrium to the other side of the roof.

Penn sank down onto one of the chairs and dragged his hands through his hair. “This isn’t good.”

“We can go downstairs if you’d rather.”

“I don’t mean this.” He gestured to the roof. “I mean all of it: the bombing, the stuff on the news. It seems like it’s all spiraling out of control.”

“But at least it wasn’t our fault.”

He shook his head. “We know that, but nobody else does. Everyone I know will have seen it…my face all over the news. Like I’m a murderer. Do you think my mom knows yet?”

“We were with your mom,” I said. “She’s not going to think it was you.”

“No, I know, you’re right. I wasn’t even thinking…” His voice trailed off and he stared into the distance with a blank look on his face. “Maybe we should call the cops. You said it yourself—we were with my mom. They can’t pin it on us if we have an alibi.”

I didn’t know what to say. “Penn…”

“The police can’t all be bad, right? This is the United States. This isn’t Russia or something.”

I could hear the hope in his voice, and it broke my heart. Sighing, I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. We can’t take the chance,” I said. “Someone is making it pretty clear we’re a target. If they were willing to kill Miss Gellner to frame us, imagine what else they could do.”

“I’ve been imagining it,” Penn muttered. “That’s the problem.”

Another gust of wind swirled around our heads, and I wrapped my arms around my chest. From somewhere on the other side of the rooftop came raised voices, caught up in the breeze. A woman was yelling.

“…think what would happen to me if you get caught?”

I froze, and Penn sat up straighter.

“Is that Dave’s sister?” I whispered.

“Maybe,” he answered. “We should leave.”

He stood, and the voices drew closer, moving as if they were about to round the corner.

“Over here,” Penn said, pulling me behind the large metal tube of an air vent.

“We’ll be fine. Stop worrying.” There was no mistaking Dave’s voice. “These are my friends. They’ve got my back.”

“You’re talking about them like you’re all in high school or something,” his sister said. “Half of them are pets, remember? They aren’t like you.” She shuddered. “You promised me it wouldn’t be dangerous.”

“I didn’t know this would happen.”

She laughed, but it was a mean sound. “You always underestimate things. It’s your biggest problem.”

“Can we not start this now? We hardly ever get time together. Do we need to spend it fighting?” he asked, trying to put his arm around her shoulders.

She shoved him away. “People are getting killed! I’m not really interested in a happy little reunion right now. You stuck me in the middle of a huge mess. I could get sent to jail for aiding and abetting criminals.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“How do you know?”

He threw up his hands. “It’s only going to be a little longer. We’re so close to winning this thing, and then all of this terrible stuff is going to pay off. I promise.”

The confidence in his voice surprised me. Normally it was Markus with the passion and the certainty that the cause we were fighting for was just. Dave could get excited about his gear, but I’d never seen him speak about the movement this way.

Vanessa sighed. “We should get you back. They might be planning things without you there, and it’s important for you to know what’s going to happen.”

The door to the atrium opened, and their voices died away.

“We should get back, too,” I said.

Penn stood and looked out over the city. “I need a couple more minutes,” he said. “Come here.”

The cool wind climbed over the edge of the building, twisting around us so my hair whipped like a halo around my head. Penn slid behind me, smoothed down my hair, and rested his chin on top of my head. I sank back into his warm arms and shivered.

Down below us, the sounds of the city rose like a song, haunting and distant. If I ever got to make music again, I would remember these sounds. I would remember the sirens and the horns. I would remember the sound of jackhammers, of a city being built up and torn down at the same time.

…

Back inside the apartment, everyone sat around the television again. Even Jane had reemerged from the bedroom and was sitting between Markus and Dave. If there had been a disagreement between all of them, there was no way to know it anymore. Maybe grudges couldn’t last very long when the rest of the world was out to get you.

Penn and I lowered ourselves onto one of the sofas.

“Is there anything new?” I asked.

“Oh sure,” Markus said. “They’ve got some guy on who’s claiming he saw us all driving away from the scene of the bombing.”

“It’s pretty convenient,” Jane said. “Our car drives past him at thirty miles an hour and he gets a good look at all of our faces. I don’t understand how that reporter isn’t calling him out on it.”

She jabbed her finger at the man with the microphone, and the screen flickered as if sensing her outrage. A moment later the picture disappeared, leaving only blackness.

“That’s weird.” Ian picked up the remote and switched the channel, but the screen stayed dark. “There must be something wrong with—”

The screen flickered and a new picture filled the monitor.

A face we all recognized stared back at us. My mouth opened in a gasp, but there was no air in my lungs for breath. It felt like a huge pair of hands had just clamped down on my throat.