“June!” She looks dazed and bewildered, but then she recognizes me. No time for greetings now.
A bullet zips overhead. I duck and shield June again; one of the soldiers near us gets shot in the leg. Please, for the love of— Please let Tess make it safely to the tunnel entrance. I whirl around and meet the Elector’s wide eyes through the window. So, this is the guy who kissed June—he’s tall and good-looking and rich, and he’s going to uphold all of his father’s laws. He’s the boy king who symbolizes everything the Republic is; the war with the Colonies that led to Eden’s illness, the laws that put my family in the slums and led to their deaths, the laws that sent me off to be executed because I’d failed some stupid goddy test when I was ten. This guy is the Republic. I should kill him right now.
But then I think of June. If June knows a reason we should protect him from the Patriots, and believes it enough to risk her life—and mine—then I’m going to trust her. If I refused, I’d be breaking ties with her forever. Can I live with that? The thought of that chills me to the bone. I point down the street toward the explosion and do something I never thought I’d do in my whole life. I yell as loud as I can for the soldiers. “Back up the jeeps! Barricade the street! Protect the Elector!” Then, as other soldiers reach the Elector, I shout frantically at them, “Get the Elector out of this car! Get him away from here—they’re going to blow it up!”
June yanks us down as another bullet hits the ground near us. “Come on,” I shout. She follows me. Behind us, dozens of Republic soldiers have arrived on the scene. We catch a quick glimpse of the Elector getting out of his jeep, then being hurried away behind the protection of his soldiers. Bullets fly. Did I just see one hit the Elector in the chest? No—just his upper arm. Then he disappears, lost behind a sea of soldiers.
He’s saved. He’s going to make it. I can hardly breathe at the thought—I don’t know if I should be happy or furious. After all that buildup, the Elector’s assassination has failed because of me and June.
What have I done?
“That’s Day!” someone calls out. “He’s alive!” But I don’t dare turn around again. I squeeze June’s hand tighter and we dart around the rubble and smoke.
We bump into our first Patriot. Baxter. He stops short for a second when he sees us, then seizes June’s arm. “You!” he spits out. She’s too quick for him, though. Before I can draw the gun at my waist, June’s slipped right out of his grasp. He grabs for us again—but someone else knocks him flat on his face before we can make another move. I meet Kaede’s burning eyes.
She waves her hands furiously at us. “Get to safety!” she yells. “Before the others find you!” There’s deep shock on her face—is she stunned that the plan fell apart? Does she know we had anything to do with it? She must know. Why is she turning on the Patriots too? Then she runs away. I let my eyes follow her for an instant. Sure enough, Anden is nowhere to be seen and Republic soldiers have started firing back up at the roofs.
Anden is nowhere to be seen, I think again. Has the assassination attempt officially failed?
We keep running until we’re on the other side of the explosion. Suddenly there are Patriots everywhere; some are running toward the soldiers and looking for a way to shoot the Elector, and others are fleeing for the tunnel. Running after us.
Another explosion shakes the street��someone has tried in vain to stop the Elector with another grenade. Maybe they finally managed to blow up his jeep. Where’s Razor? Is he out for our blood now? I picture his calm, fatherly face alight with rage.
We finally reach the narrow alley that leads to the tunnel, barely ahead of the Patriots hot on our tail.
Tess is there, huddled in the shadows against the wall. I want to scream. Why didn’t she jump down into the tunnel and head for the hideout? “Inside, now,” I say. “You weren’t supposed to wait for me.”
But she doesn’t move. Instead she stands in front of us with her fists clenched, her eyes flickering back and forth between me and June. I rush over and grab her hand, then pull her along with us to one of the small metal gratings that line where the alley’s walls meet the ground. I can hear the first signs of Patriots behind us. Please, I beg silently. Please let us be the first ones to reach the hideout.
“They’re coming,” June says, her eyes fixed on a spot down the alley.
“Let them try to catch us.” I run my hands frantically across the metal grating, then pry it open.
The Patriots are getting closer. Too close.
I stand up. “Get out of the way,” I say to Tess and June. Then I pull a second grenade from my belt, yank out the pin, and toss it toward the alleyway’s opening. We throw ourselves to the ground and cover our heads with our hands.
Boom! A deafening blast. It should slow the Patriots down some, but I can already see silhouettes coming through the debris and toward us.
June runs to the open tunnel entrance by my side. I let her jump in first, then turn to Tess and extend my hand. “Come on, Tess,” I say. “We don’t have much time.”
Tess looks at my open hand and takes a step back. In that instant, the world around us seems to freeze. She’s not going to come with us. There’s anger and shock and guilt and sadness all wrapped up in her thin little face.
I try again. “Come on!” I shout. “Please, Tess—I can’t leave you here.”
Tess’s eyes rip through me. “I’m sorry, Day,” she gasps. “But I can take care of myself. So don’t try to come after me.” Then she tears her eyes away from me and runs back toward the Patriots. She’s rejoining them? I watch her go, stunned into silence, my hand still outstretched. The Patriots are so close now.