Aria crawled closer, only a few paces away from the ramp, then she turned uphill toward him and signaled that she was ready. It was his move now.
Perry nocked the arrow, his arms steady and sure as he aimed high, to the spotlight that shone down on the entrance. He wouldn’t miss. Not this time.
He let the arrow go.
Chapter 41
ARIA
The spotlight exploded with a deafening pop that burst through the speakers of Aria’s helmet. The two Guardians by the rescue center ramp startled at the sudden darkness. In seconds, a dozen men flooded down the ramp to see what had happened. Aria slipped from the shadows into the commotion and then darted toward the rescue center, her shoulders brushing against Guardians who were hurrying outside.
She put one foot in front of the other through a long metal corridor, passing a pair of Guardians. They barely glanced at her. She wore their clothes. She had a helmet and a Smarteye. She was one of them.
Aria strode with purpose, though she didn’t know where she was going. Her eyes searched frantically as she passed opened doors along the hall. She glimpsed cots and medical equipment. This part of the rescue center nearest the entrance held triage chambers, which didn’t surprise her, but the stillness in the rooms did. Where were the survivors?
Were there any?
How was she going to find her mother?
She slowed as she approached the next chamber, listening first and then peering inside. Aria stepped into the room, her gaze sweeping, making sure she was alone.
She wasn’t.
People lay in stacked bunks along the walls. Not wearing helmets. Unmoving. Aria walked farther into the room, taking in their open wounds and the dark bloodstains that seeped into their grays. They were dead. Every one.
Suddenly she couldn’t escape the stench that clung to her hair, of the bodies she’d had to crawl through outside. Every breath she took, she smelled the odor of death. Desperate now, she searched for Lumina’s face, moving from one row of cots to the other. From one lifeless body to the next. The marks of brutality were everywhere. Mottled yellow bruising. Scratches and ripped flesh. Bite marks.
She couldn’t help imagining what had happened. So many people, turning on each other like rabid animals. Like Soren in Ag 6. Her mother had been trapped in this.
Where was she?
Aria heard a faint voice and spun. Someone approached. She tensed, ready to hide, but then she recognized the voice and froze. Was that Doctor Ward? Lumina’s colleague? He entered the room, glancing through his visor in her direction, and then stopped. Hope surged through her. He would know how to find her mother.
“Doctor Ward?” she said.
“Aria?” For a moment they stared at each other. “What are you doing here?” he asked, and then answered his own question. “You’ve come for your mother.”
“You have to help me, Doctor Ward. I need to find her.”
He came toward her, leveling his intense gaze on her. “She’s here,” he said. They were the words she’d wanted to hear, but the tone was all wrong. “Come with me.”
Aria followed him through the metal halls. She knew what was happening. She knew what he was going to tell her. Lumina was dead. She had heard it in his voice.
She followed him, her head spinning with dizziness, her legs heavy and slow. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t lose Lumina, too.
He took her into a small, bare room with a heavy airlock door that hissed as it closed behind her.
“The storms kept us away,” Ward said. A muscle by his Smarteye twitched. “We were too late.”
“Can—can I see her? I need to see her.”
Ward hesitated. “Yes. Wait here.”
When he left, Aria staggered back. Her helmet clacked against the wall. She slid to the floor. Every muscle shook. Tears ached behind her eyes. She tried to press her palms into them, but her hands smacked into the visor. She panted, her breath loud to her own ears.
The airlock door slid open. Ward pushed a gurney into the small chamber. A long black bag made of thick plastic lay on top. “I’ll be outside,” he said, and left.
Aria stood. Cold emanated from the bag, rising like wisps of smoke. She opened the seal around her gloves and pulled them off. She unfastened the helmet, letting it clatter to the floor. She had to do this. She had to know. Her fingers trembled as she fumbled for the zipper. She braced herself for an opened gash. Bruises. Something terrible, like what she’d seen outside. Then she drew the zipper down, exposing her mother’s face.
She saw no horrible wound, but the pallor of Lumina’s skin was worse, nearly white, but deeply shadowed with purple around her eyes. Her hair fell in messy strands across her closed eyes. Aria brushed it away—Lumina would never have tolerated hair like that—and sucked in a breath at the coldness of her mother’s skin.
“Oh, Mom.”
Tears pushed from the edges of her Smarteye and ran down her cheeks.
She rested her hand on Lumina’s forehead until her skin burned with cold. She had so many questions. Why had Lumina lied about Aria’s father? Who was he? How could she have left Aria and gone to Bliss when she’d known the danger of DLS? But she needed one answer most.
“Where am I supposed to go, Mom?” she whispered. “I don’t know where to go.”
She knew what Lumina would say. That’s a question for you to answer, Songbird.
Aria closed her eyes.
She knew she could answer it. She knew how to put one foot in front of the other even when every step hurt. And she knew there was pain in the journey, but there was also great beauty. She’d seen it standing on rooftops and in green eyes and in the smallest, ugliest rock. She would find the answer.