We reach the final set of security doors. Skylar finds the hidden trigger faster this time. She shoots twice and blasts the console apart.
When the doors zip open to reveal the flight port a short ways ahead, I’m not sure what I expect. I hope we’ll find silence. I hope we’ll find the place deserted, and realize the rebels moved somewhere else. Somewhere safer, where we won’t be able to find them.
Instead, lasers come flying at our ship—streaks of red and blue and green that zap against our hull. They don’t come from handheld guns; they come from Davara jets. There are three in the air with rebel pilots inside, shooting at us, blocking the entrance to the flight port. It seems they have enough fuel left for this, thank the stars.
But I’m on board one of the ships they’re trying to shoot down.
A fierce tremor runs through our ship as another laser hits our wing, and a small cry escapes my mouth. Skylar veers us to the right, but there isn’t far to go. The tunnel is barely wide enough for all three X-wings to hover side by side. And we can’t stay in one place if we’re going to avoid the gunfire.
Harry sends our own stream of fire at the closest jet, but the jet is smaller and manages to jump aside.
“Sam, we’re inside,” Skylar says. “The rebels are shooting from the air. What are your orders?”
“Open fire,” Sam says in my ear. “Get their ships down, but be careful. Commander Charlie doesn’t care if we lose some of the rebels in the fight, but he wants his daughter alive.”
Skylar drops us down to avoid another laser. “I don’t think she’s on any of these ships. But copy that. Cameron, Landers, let’s push them back.”
We send a barrage of fire at the ships, no longer trying to evade their attack. Our laser power is much stronger than what the rebels have, I can tell as soon as we begin. The Davara jets are powerful, but they’re older models, and they won’t hold up as well as ours.
No, no, no, stop shooting, I beg the pilots. The rebels are going to lose.
If they lose, I’m dead, and so is Logan.
A direct hit to one of the hulls sends the whole jet spinning out of control. The other two jump far back to get out of the way, leaving an opening for Skylar to fly our X-wing into the hangar.
We hit the spinning one twice more, and it crashes into a grounded flight pod. My hand hurts from clutching the barrel of my gun in panic.
Where are the other rebels? I counted three pilots in the Davaras. I know we left more than three people in the compound.
Cameron and Landers are still blasting the other two jets. Both hulls are smoking from the damage. They won’t be in the air much longer.
Skylar sets us down in a clear space in the hangar, near the crashed Davara. Flames leap up from the rubble.
I hope whoever’s inside is still alive. I don’t know who it is—I couldn’t identify the faces of any of the pilots.
“We’ve landed,” Skylar says over comm.
Cameron and Landers are setting their ships down beside the rebel jets.
“Good,” Sam says. “We’re almost there.”
The cover of our X-wing lifts open. Skylar, Harry, and Lieutenant Dean climb out with their guns in hand. I don’t want to follow them, but I do.
I’m still gripping my copper. I might have to use it. I don’t know if I should fight my orders, or if I should stick with my decision not to. I don’t know which one will help me beat Sam.
I have to beat him. Everything I’ve fought for will be for nothing, otherwise.
The pew pew of laser fire reaches my ears from where Cameron and Landers put their ships down. They must be shooting the Davara pilots, or the pilots must be shooting them.
To our right, the cover of the crashed jet opens. The pilot inside staggers out, coughing and slapping the flames away.
Skylar notices and turns to him with her gun raised.
He reaches the ground, struggling to keep his footing, and removes his helmet. His shirt has a hole in his shoulder, exposing burned red skin. When he lifts his head, his eyes shoot daggers at Skylar.
She smiles at him. “Hello, Buck.”
“You traitor,” he yells in a hoarse voice. “I should’ve known you’d run straight back to Charlie, soon as you got outta this place. Soon as you realized we were gonna lose.”
“How many more of you are in the facility?” she asks, ignoring him.
“More than you think. We knew you lot would show up here soon enough. We were ready for you.”
I have a strong feeling he’s lying.
“We were told to capture you all,” Skylar says, “and bring you back to Commander Charlie for him to determine if you could be of any use to him. But he also said if you struggle too much, there’s no point in bringing you back.”
“Shoot me, go ahead,” Buck says.
She takes two steps forward and steadies her aim at his head. Her jaw is firm; her lips are pressed together. But there’s slight hesitance in her eyes.
BOOM!
Buck’s jet explodes—the engine must’ve caught fire. I duck with a cry, covering my head to avoid the shrapnel.
When the dust clears, I look up. Skylar’s on the ground, knocked back by the force of the explosion. Harry’s helping her up. She’s covered with dust, but I don’t think she’s badly hurt.
A strangled cry comes from behind her. As Harry helps her to her feet, I notice Buck on the ground, knocked onto his stomach from the force of the explosion. He’s missing a part of his left leg, below his knee. There’s a huge chunk of metal in his thigh.
Skylar is fine. Harry and Dean are too.
Buck is on the ground, knocked onto his stomach from the force of the explosion. There’s a huge chunk of metal in his leg, and probably other, smaller bits in the rest of his body. He’s missing a part of his left leg, below his knee. There’s a huge chunk of metal in his thigh. His blood leaks onto the floor, among the ashes and debris from the explosion.
The roar of X-wing engines fills the hangar. The ships with Sam and Beechy are here.
Flames from the destroyed fighter jet lick at Buck’s bloody, mangled legs. He’s going to catch fire. He claws at the floor like he’s trying to heave himself away from the wreckage, but it does no good.
“Help me!” The words erupt from his mouth, full of torment. “Please!”
I need to force my feet to move. Someone needs to help him, and none of the others will. Dean’s staring at Buck with terror in his eyes, like he’s never seen a person injured in an explosion before.
Move, move, move! I urge my body.
I take a slow step forward. Then another. The effort makes my forehead sweat. I’m not going to reach Buck fast enough. Sam’s ship and the others are landing—someone’s going to stop me.
Out of the corner of my eye, a laser beam flies at Harry from behind one of the nearby flight pods. He doesn’t notice until it’s too late. He stumbles with a yell, his hand moving to where the laser struck his side.
Skylar and Dean turn toward where the fire came from, raising their guns. There must be more rebels hiding behind the flight pods. I need to make sure they realize who I am and know I’m on their side, not Sam’s. But first I need to save Buck. If I could pull him out of the way of the fire and bind the stump of his leg, I might be able to keep him from bleeding to death.
He’s seven feet away now … six … five …
“Clem, duck!” Skylar shouts.
I duck automatically. A laser whizzes over my head.
Another nearly hits Dean. The rebels step out from behind the pods, all of them firing at us. I turn to face them, raising my gun against my will. Five rebels, I count. Darren, the pilot from Cady’s recon mission; Fiona, my roommate; Uma, the nurse who fixed my tattoo; a male Unstable I can’t remember the name of; and Sandy.
They don’t recognize me, or if they do they don’t care about hurting me. I move my feet so their fire won’t hit me.
My arm finds an easy shot. I aim at Fiona’s chest.
No—no—no—no—no—
My fingers squeeze the trigger, but I manage to move my arm away at the last second. The laser skims the air beside her waist. Thank the stars.
Fiona freezes, her gun still in the air, gaping at me. She must’ve realized who I am.
A laser flies past me, from somewhere behind me. The other officials have climbed out of their ships, armed and ready to fight.
The rebels scurry behind their pods to take cover. Skylar aims one last shot at Darren as he runs, but misses.
Sam’s voice arises, magnified through his helmet. “There’s no point in hiding. You’re all outnumbered.”
He steps into view to the right of me. Beechy stops on my left side, and the rest of the officials move to gather around us.
Cameron and Landers have one rebel in their custody, bound and gagged—a woman I recognize from Karum, who has a bloody cut on her forehead. They must’ve killed the pilot from the other rebel ship.
I suddenly remember—Buck. He’s on the other side of Beechy, farther away from me, since I moved while I was shooting. Buck has stopping struggling. He’s lying still on the ground while the flames slowly burn through his pants.
I’m too late.
“Lieutenant Dean, go with Cadets Marshall and Crowley and unload the explosives,” Sam says. “Stack them around the perimeter of the hangar. The rest of you, keep your guns raised.”
“Yes, sir.” Dean and the other two move to follow his orders.
Sam clicks the safety of his weapon off and on, focusing his eyes on the flight pods. The rebels haven’t stepped out from behind them again; they must know they can’t defeat us all.
When Sam speaks, there’s amusement in his voice. “Sandy, did you know Clementine and Skylar are here, as well as your husband? Beechy’s become rather more obedient than I’m guessing he was the last time you saw him. Funny how a prick of a needle can change someone.”
He’s wrong; it doesn’t change us, not completely. I’m still here, underneath this body that will hardly listen to me, that makes it impossible for me to save my friends.
There’s silence in the hangar, save the dull crackle of the flames consuming Buck’s jet.
Sam gives a silent signal, and eight of his officials head to the left and right sides of the hangar, where Dean and Crowley and Marshall are stacking the explosives. The eight officials slip around the pods until they’re out of sight.
A laser flashes between some of the pods, coming from where the officials must be standing, followed by several more. A loud cry tells me a rebel has been wounded. A man—either Darren or the man from Karum.
Three of the officials reach the doors at the far side of the hangar. Two of them push through the doors into the main corridor of the facility, to make sure the other rooms are empty. The third man remains standing in front of the doors, his gun cocked and ready.
We have my friends surrounded.
“We didn’t come here to harm you or anyone in this facility,” Sam says, taking another step forward.
Yes, you did, you liar.
“We came because you’re in danger,” Sam says. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but there’s a fleet of ships from the distant planet Marden headed our way. They’ll be here within a day or two. Commander Charlie has called for the transfer of all his citizens belowground to ensure their safety.”
Not all his citizens. No one in the work camps will be saved; they’ll be slaughtered.
Liar, liar, liar.
“All I need is for you to come quietly,” Sam says, “and you can join your friends in the comforts of the Core.”
More silence.
I want to shoot Sam. I can make my hands lift my gun, I’m sure of it, but I don’t know if I can do it fast enough. Someone will see and shoot me first.
“Beechy, I’m telling the truth, aren’t I?” Sam asks.
“He’s telling the truth,” Beechy says, his empty eyes narrowed slightly. “Sandy, you need to come with us. It’s not safe for you here anymore.”
There’s a long stretch of silence.
Sandy steps out from her hiding spot, letting her gun clatter to the ground. She places both hands over her belly, as if two more inches of skin will keep her child safe, should a bullet fly her way.She looks from Beechy to me, searching our faces for something—a sign that we’re only pretending to be subdued.
I’m fighting it, I want to tell her. I’m trying.
The stoniness in her gaze tells me she doesn’t want to give up. But she has no other choice, if she wants to stay alive. Using the Davara jets to shoot us down was her best plan, and that failed.
“You have us, Sam,” she says. “Take us away from here, if that’s what my father wants.”
The other rebels slowly step out from where they’re hiding. Fiona, Uma, and Darren, who leans on the man from Karum. Darren was shot in the leg. He grits his teeth in pain, but his eyes are angry.
They all drop their weapons, surrendering.
Officials move forward to pick them up. I can’t see Sam’s mouth under his helmet, but I’m sure he looks smug.
“Beechy, help your wife into one of the ships,” he says.
Beechy slips his gun into his holster and walks forward. Sandy’s cool exterior cracks as he nears her, as she takes in the fogginess in his eyes.
“Oh, Beechy,” she whispers.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the slightest movement to the right of our group. Buck is stirring on the floor. The flames are eating at his legs, but he is still alive—barely.
His hand slips into his holster.
“It’s going to be okay,” Beechy says, moving behind Sandy to grasp her shoulders.
She blinks tears out of her eyes, but lets him push her ahead of him toward one of the X-wings. They pass in front of Skylar, who has shifted and is standing to the right of Sam.
Buck removes his gun and aims at Skylar, his jaw twitching in anger, his bloodshot eyes barely focusing.
I realize what’s going to happen too late.
I open my mouth to yell, “Buck, no!”
But he’s already squeezed the trigger. A gunshot rings out.