No gunmen here. I pull myself up onto the roof, careful to stay in the shadows. My hand grips the gun so tightly that I can barely feel my fingers. I scan the roofs in the danger zone leading up to the shelter, until finally I see several Colonies soldiers crouched on top of the neighboring buildings, taking aim at the Republic troops heading up the evacuation. I make my way silently toward them.
I take the first one down quickly, aiming at him from behind as I peer over the building’s top ledge. It’s as if I can feel Metias guiding my gun, making sure I hit him somewhere that isn’t fatal. As he collapses with a muffled shriek that’s lost in all the chaos, I rush over and grab his gun, then fling it over the side of the roof. Then I hit him in the face hard enough to knock him out. My eyes settle on the next soldier. I press one hand against my earpiece and click my mike on.
“Tell the nurse to keep waiting,” I hiss urgently at the guard by the Bank Tower. “I’ll send a signal when it’s—”
I never get a chance to finish my sentence. An explosion throws me down flat onto the roof. When I open my eyes and look down, the entire street is completely covered in ash and dust. Dust bombs? Through the veil of smoke and dirt, evacuees are running in panic toward the shelter and breaking through the lines of Republic soldiers flanking them, completely ignoring their shouts. The Colonies gunmen have visors on. They must be able to see through all this smoke. They fire down at the crowds, scattering them in all directions. I look frantically toward the tower. Where’s Eden? I hurry to my next target, taking him down in the same way as the last. Another gunman down. I lock on to my third target, then spit out a curse as I realize that my gun has just run out of bullets.
I’m about to make my way off the roof when something bright glints from a rooftop. I freeze in my tracks.
Not far from me on a higher building, Commander Jameson crouches on a roof. A chill shakes me from head to toe when I see that she has a gun in her hand. No. No.
She’s picking off Republic soldiers, one bullet at a time. Then, my heart stops as she catches sight of something that piques her interest. She takes aim at a new target on the ground. My eyes follow the line of her gun. And that’s when I see a boy with bright blond hair pushing his way against the stream of the crowd and toward the Bank Tower.
She’s aiming at Day.
TESS GETS EVACUATED FIRST—I SEE HER LIMP FORM BEING carried in the arms of a nurse as they exit the Bank Tower. I take her from the nurse’s arms as soon as they reach ground level, then carry her alongside the stream of other evacuees. She seems only half conscious, unaware of my presence, her head lolling to one side. Halfway to the shelter, I slow down. Damn, I’m so exhausted and in so much pain.
Pascao takes Tess from my arms. He hoists her up to his chest. On the roofs, sparks fly—signs of gunfire. “Get back to the Bank Tower entrance,” he yells at me before turning his back. “I’ll get her over!” And then he’s off before I can argue.
I watch them go for a while, unwilling to look away until I’m sure Tess is safely across the square. When they reach the shelter, I turn my attention back to the tower. Eden should be down by now. I crane my neck, squinting through the crowds for a head of blond curls. Has June come back downstairs yet? I don’t see her in the panicking masses either and her absence sends a jolt of worry through me.
Then, an explosion. I’m thrown to the ground.
Dust. A dust bomb, I manage to think through the pounding in my head. At first I can’t see anything through all the smoke—there’s chaos everywhere, sparks flying, and the occasional muffled sound of gunfire; through the floating white dust, I see a blur of people running toward the safety of the Republic barricades, their legs moving as if in slow motion, their mouths open in silent shouts. I shake my head wearily. My own limbs feel like they’re dragging through the mud, and the back of my head throbs, threatening to drown me in pain. I blink against it, trying to keep my senses straight. Desperately I call out again for Eden, but I can’t even hear my own voice. If I can’t hear it, how can he?
The people thin out for a moment.
And then I see him. It’s Eden. He’s unconscious in the arms of a terrified Republic nurse, one who seems to be stumbling blindly through the dust, headed in the wrong direction—straight toward the Colonies troops lining the left side of the square, opposite of where the shelter is. I don’t stop to think or shout at him, I don’t hesitate or wait for a good interval in the gunfire. I just start running toward him.
COMMANDER JAMESON’S GOING TO SHOOT HIM—THE direction she’s aiming her gun is unmistakable.
Day’s sprinting through the dust that blankets the street. Day, what are you doing? He stumbles in his dash, and even from the roofs I can tell that he’s struggling to make his body move, that every last inch of him is screaming from exhaustion. He’s going to push himself too far. I glance in the direction he’s going, searching out what has drawn his attention.
Eden. Of course. The nurse holding Eden trips and falls in the midst of all the billowing smoke, and when she gets up, fear gets the best of her because she just starts running away. Fury rises up inside me. Left behind is Eden, slowly stirring and completely vulnerable in the open street, blind, separated from the group, and coughing uncontrollably from the smoke.
I jump to my feet. With the way Day’s running opposite of everyone else, he’ll soon be in an area where he’s an open target.
My hand flies to my waist—and then I remember that my own gun is out of bullets. I sprint back across the rooftop toward my last target, where I hadn’t yet dropped his gun off the roof. When I glance toward Commander Jameson again, I see her tense and aim. No. No! She fires a shot.