If that’s the case, then the Colonies may have been planning an attack for months. Perhaps even before the plague outbreak.
And Thomas. Was he in on the whole thing? Unless he was trying to warn me. That’s why he asked for me yesterday. For his final request, but also in hopes that I would notice something off about the guards. My heartbeat quickens. But why wouldn’t he just shout a warning?
“What happens next?” I ask numbly.
Anden leans his head against the seat. He’s probably thinking through a similar list of possibilities about the escaped prisoners, but he doesn’t say it aloud. “Our jets are all engaged right outside Denver. The Armor should hold for a good while, but there’s a strong chance more Colonies forces are on their way. We’re going to need help. Other nearby cities have been alerted and are sending their troops for reinforcement, but”—Anden pauses to look over his shoulder at me—“it might not be enough. While we keep funneling civilians underground, June, you and I need to have a private talk right away.”
“Where are you evacuating the poor to, Elector?” Day pipes up quietly.
Anden turns in his seat again. He meets Day’s hostile blue eyes with as level a look as he can manage. I notice that he avoids looking at Eden. “I have troops on their way to the outer sectors,” he says. “They’ll find shelter for the civilians and defend them until I give a command otherwise.”
“No underground bunkers for them, I guess,” Day replies coldly.
“I’m sorry.” Anden lets out a long breath. “The bunkers were built a long time ago, before my father even became the Elector. We’re working on adding more.”
Day leans forward and narrows his eyes. His right hand grips Eden’s tightly. “Then split the bunkers up between the sectors. Half poor, half rich. The upper class should risk their necks out in the open as much as the lower class.”
“No,” Anden says firmly, even though I hear regret in his words. He makes the mistake of arguing this point with Day, and I can’t stop him. “If we were to do that, the logistics would be a nightmare. The outer sectors don’t have the same evacuation routes—if explosions hit the city, hundreds of thousands more people would be vulnerable in the open because we wouldn’t be able to organize everyone in time. We evacuate the gem sectors first. Then we can—”
“Do it!” Day shouts. “I don’t care about your damn logistics!”
Anden’s face hardens. “You will not talk back to me like that,” he snaps. There’s steel in his voice that I recognize from Commander Jameson’s trial. “I am your Elector.”
“And I put you there,” Day snaps back. “Fine, you wanna talk logically? I’m game. If you don’t make a bigger effort to protect the poor right now, I can practically guarantee that you’ll have a full-on riot on your hands. Do you really want that while the Colonies are attacking? Like you said, you’re the Elector. But you won’t be if the rest of the country’s poor hears about how you’re handling this, and even I might not be able to stop them from starting a revolution. They already think the Republic’s trying to kill me off. How long do you think the Republic can hold up against a war from both the outside and the inside?”
Anden’s facing forward again. “This conversation’s over.” As always, his voice is dangerously quiet, but we can hear every single word.
Day lets out a curse and slumps back in his seat. I exchange a glance with him, then shake my head. Day has a point, of course, and so does Anden. The problem is that we don’t have time for all this nonsense. After a moment of silence, I lean forward in my seat, clear my throat, and try an alternative.
“We should evacuate the poor into the wealthy sectors,” I say. “They’ll still be aboveground, but the wealthy sectors sit in the heart of Denver, not along the Armor where the fighting is happening. It’s a flawed plan, but the poor will also see that we’re making a concerted effort to protect them. Then, as the people in the bunkers are gradually evacuated to LA via underground subways, we’ll have the time and space to start filtering everyone else underground as well.”
Day mutters something under his breath, but at the same time he grunts in reluctant approval. He shoots me a grateful look. “Sounds like a better plan to me. At least the people’ll have something.” A second later, I figure out what it was that he’d muttered. You’d make a better Elector than this fool.
Anden’s quiet for a moment as he considers my words. Then he nods in agreement and presses a hand against his ear. “Commander Greene,” he says, then launches into a series of orders.
I meet Day’s eyes. He still looks upset, but at least his eyes aren’t burning in anger like they were a second ago. He turns his attention back on Lucy, who has an arm wrapped protectively around Eden. He’s curled up in the corner of the jeep’s seat with his legs tucked up and his arms wrapped around them. He squints at the scene blurring by, but I’m not sure how much of it he can actually make out. I reach across Day and touch Eden’s shoulder. He tenses up immediately. “It’s okay, it’s June,” I say. “And don’t worry. We’re going to be fine, do you hear?”
“Why did the Colonies break through?” Eden asks, turning his wide, purple-toned eyes on me and Day.
I swallow hard. Neither of us answers him. Finally, after he repeats his question, Day hugs him closer and whispers something in his ear. Eden settles down against his brother’s shoulder. He still looks unhappy and scared, but the terror is at least tempered, and we manage to finish the rest of the ride without saying another word.