Текст книги "Tearing Down the Wall"

Автор книги: Tracey Ward

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I start to back away slowly, putting my hands up in a gesture of ‘go ahead.’

“Stop,” Kyle tells Macy and I irritably. “We’ve come this far. We’re not turning back and we need her. At least for a little while longer.”

“Let me know when we’re done with her,” Macy says darkly.

“Deal.”

“You’ll have to get in line,” I tell her with a smile. “Andy has called dibs on killing me.”

“He gets to have all the fun.”

“Not too late to back out on this,” Ryan warns me quietly, watching the pair openly threatening my life.

“You heard them,” I tell him, spinning my closed ASP in my hand. “We’ve come too far to turn back now.”

It’s actually comforting to know pretty much everyone wants to kill me. It’s what I’m used to. Picking and choosing between my enemies and my friends—that’s exhausting. One miscalculation can get me killed with my guard down like an idiot. But this, knowing everyone wants to see me die, that’s an equation I can understand.

It’s easily half an hour later when we finally stop. The cannibals are a well-oiled machine, leaping into action without a single word or sound. They form a three-person human ladder to get underneath a large drain—one I can only assume is the drain in the center of the shower room. The rock around it in the ceiling of the tunnel has been roughly chipped away, leaving jagged edges around the gaping hole. I watch in amazement as the person on top of the people ladder, the young guy Ryan and I had been talking to, makes quick work of the drain. I hear it pop up and clatter quietly to the floor in under a minute.

After hoisting himself inside, the young kid leans over the hole and helps pull me up with him. Once I’m in, I’m sick to my stomach. It’s damp in here. They used this room tonight. Whether it was on newbies or the weekly member showers, I don’t know.

Ryan and Trent come up next, followed by the rest of the cannibals. Everyone but Bryan. Even with the cement floor between us, I still feel like that dude is too close.

I play the obedient princess when Kyle and Macy give me stern eyes and signal us to wait in the showers. Ryan and Trent fall in beside me and I feel even weirder with them standing like knights at my side. When did I get valuable? Since when do I matter so much to so many people?

We watch as the cannibals slip out of the room, silent as the shadow of nothing and gliding on air. They think they’re not fighters, and maybe in the beginning they weren’t, but they’re pretty freaking ninja now.

There’s nothing but silence for a long time. I count it out, listening to my heart, and I think it’s about twenty minutes before one of the boys breaks the silence.

“This place is big,” Ryan mutters beside me. His eyes are roaming over the room, taking in the shelving with the clean towels and the closed cupboards that I know are stocked full of the best soap I’ve seen in ages, the ones you don’t get to touch until after your ‘cleanse.’

“You’ve only seen one room.”

“And it’s big. What about the rest of the place?”

I shift on my feet. “It’s big.”

“Called it.”

“There’s an airplane inside. A fake tree. A foot car.”

“What’s a foot car?”

I shrug. “It’s a pink car shaped like a foot. They told me it’s a toe truck, then they laughed. I didn’t get it.”

“I don’t either.”

We both look at Trent. He’s not listening.

“How long are we waiting?” he asks, staring at the darkened doorway.

“Until they come get us. That’s the plan.”

“Are we sticking to that?”

I glance down at the hole in the center of the room and I wonder if Bryan can hear us. I’m guessing yes. Yes, he can.

“I don’t want to,” I admit.

“Then why are we doing it?”

“Just because I don’t want to do something, it doesn’t mean it’s not the right thing to do.”

“It usually means it is the right thing,” Ryan says.

I look at him sharply. “What does that mean?”

“I didn’t mean it about you specifically. I meant in general—screw it, you’ll be mad no matter what. Let’s just move on.”

“With me mad?”

“I’m learning to live with it.”

“I personally like it,” Trent tells me with a smile.

“Lucky you,” Ryan grumbles.

I fully turn on him. “And what does that mean?”

“It means we’re wasting time. What’s the plan?”

“We wait here.”

“That’s their plan. What’s our plan?”

“We don’t have a plan. We never do. We just kind of do things and see where that takes us. So far, it’s made us more enemies than I can count and landed us almost dead a few times, so maybe we should follow their plan and wait here.”

There’s a commotion from upstairs. A crash, a shout, the sound of furniture being shoved across the floor. The cannibals could be fighting the Team Leaders—the Melanies and the Carolines that I didn’t kill—and that would be good. That would be what they’re here for.

Or they could be fighting the innocents. The women from the sewing room. The guys from the barns. The girls from the greenhouse. The kitchen crew. The workers. The stolen. Nats. Vin.

I break into a sprint, tearing through the doorway toward the stairs. It’s dark in here—too dark, more so than I’ve ever seen it, but I’m used to the dark. I hear Trent and Ryan behind me just like they were when we ran to my building. When we were laughing and I had fun and felt so free.

I bound up the back stairs to head straight for the dining area, where I’m pretty sure the noise is coming from. As we get closer, I hear plastic clatter to the floor and then another shout rings out. It’s a woman. I run harder, bursting through the door and running right into someone’s back.

We both go down. I hit the cement floor on my shoulder, my body weight landing on my injured arm. Suddenly I’m seeing stars. I think I even cry out. I don’t know who I ran into but they’re up off the ground instantly and towering over me as I clutch my throbbing arm. They raise their own arm, a long, dark thickness extending off of it that could be a bat or a rolling pin. Either way, they’re planning to bring it down on my face. I use my legs to sweep theirs; it’s easy on this slick floor. They go down again and this time they stay there for a second, groaning. I don’t give them a chance to recover. Quickly, I rise up on my knees and come down on their face with my fist.

A warm spurt of liquid on my hand tells me I’ve broken their nose. Their pained scream tells me they’re not getting back up right now.

Ryan and Trent run in, do a quick survey of the situation, then jump over me and my fallen enemy to go deeper into the room where the fight is still going on. I roll up onto my knees just in time to see a fistfight come to an end. Ryan pulls one figure off another, spins him around, and drops him to the ground on his stomach. I hear an “oof,” the rushing of air leaving their lungs, then coughing. Trent has taken hold of the other figure and pinned his arm behind him until he dropped to his knees. I can hear him groaning against the pain he must be feeling in his shoulder. I’m praying Trent doesn’t dislocate the guy’s arm, because I’m not good with joint injuries. If I hear that distinct pop, I might vomit.

Instead, I hear a snap from the hallway. I spin around, my hand forgetting that it’s hurt and gripping my knife secured to my hip. My other hand clenches around my ASP, still coiled and small against my body, begging to come out and play.

Bright, unnatural light pours in from the hallway, highlighting three tall figures standing there. They don’t move for the longest time—too long to be comfortable. No one speaks. I barely breathe. I’m bathed in the light, blinded by the glare, and I can feel it from the tension in the air that the person looking at me knows me. But whether that’s good or bad is still up for debate. If this is one of Caroline’s friends, I’m dead and I know it.

When one of the figures moves, I’m wound so tightly I almost weep. He steps into the doorway, light spilling in from behind him, blotting out his features. There’s no way to tell who it is. No way to recognize him beyond his build and the way he moves, but that’s all I need. I know it in an instant. I know it in the way my stomach bottoms out, my heart screams in my chest, and the greatest sense of relief I’ve felt since Ryan opened his eyes in the water under that boat courses through my veins.

When he speaks, his voice deep, vibrant, and alive, I can’t hide the smile on my face.

“‘Bout fuckin’ time, Kitten.”

Chapter Seven

“Vin.”

“Where the hell have you been, huh?”

My smile drops into a scowl. “What do you mean ‘where have I been’? I’ve been out in the wild busting my butt to bring back help!”

“Took you long enough to come back.”

“At least I came back,” I snap hotly. “You’d be sitting in The Hive right now laughing it up with Marlow and pretending this place never existed.”

“Which is what you should be doing. Did you even go to Marlow? Who are these people you brought into my house?”

I stand up sharply. “Your house?! Have you gone native?”

I see the shadow of Vin shake his head in frustration. He gestures to one of the figures still hovering in the doorway. “Hit the rest of the lights, would you?”

The dining room lights snap on, making me blink rapidly, trying to adjust. The room is a mess, with tables knocked over, chairs shoved across the room, plastic plates scattered everywhere. But there’s no blood. Well, yeah, okay, there’s a little blood from where I broke someone’s face, but there’s no mortal wound amount of blood and that’s what matters. I don’t recognize the guy that Trent is holding onto, but Ryan has taken down one of the cannibals that came in with us. The person on the ground at my feet, however, is very familiar. So is the busted up shape of her face.

“Hey, Lexy,” I tell her wryly. “Long time no see.”

She presses the back of her hand to her bleeding nose. “Good to see you’re still a bitch.”

“Good to see you still can’t fight.”

I turn back to Vin, surprised to find him with short hair again. It had almost grown out the last time I saw him. He almost looked like a Lost Boy. Now he looks like a… well, a Colonist.

“What’s going on with you? What do you mean, ‘your house’?”

“I run this place.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

He grins. “Yes. What happened with Caroline kicked off a fight. By the end of that night everyone had heard that she was dead and I was as good as. Things were tense after that. Three days later someone snuck in. They tried to kill me.”

“Who?”

“The Leaders, who else?”

“No, who specifically tried to kill you?”

His eyes go cold, dark. “Breanne.”

I nod slowly. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

“She knew better.”

“She should have, yeah.”

“All right, I answered you, now you answer me. These people aren’t Hive, so who are they? Pikes?”

“No. They’re cannibals.”

I’m surprised when he laughs long and hard. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” I reply hesitantly.

“Wow, Kitten. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that.”

“Did they hurt anyone?”

“No.”

“Did you hurt them?”

“Would it bother you if we did?”

Maybe. “No.”

“Hmm,” he hums, not believing me. “They’re fine. Caged, but fine. My guys took them down easily.”

“What guys? Since when is there anyone here willing to fight?”

“Since always. They were just looking for someone to follow. I found another Hive member after you left. Couple of Westies. They had just brought in those Elevens before you bailed. You were worried they were your boy…” His voice trails off as he looks over my head to Trent and Ryan behind me. His face lights up. “Ryan Hyperion? Are you kidding me? That’s your man, isn’t it?”

“Stop,” I mutter, knowing it’s useless.

He steps around me to go to Ryan and Trent. I’m surprised when he offers his hand to Ryan, then pulls him into a half embrace.

“Good to see you, man. I’ve watched you fight in the Arena. Your brother, too. That guy made me a lot of scratch. I’m sorry about what happened to him.”

Ryan nods, his expression guarded. “Thanks.”

“So you’re the guy Kitten is all hot and bothered over? Nice.”

I groan, letting my head fall back until I’m staring at the ceiling. “Why do you have to make everything sound dirty?”

“Speaking of,” he says, turning back to me. I meet his gaze as he looks me over slowly, then whistles softly. “You’re still a Benjamin, Kitten. I’m a little less impressed with Hyperion here. Or disappointed, depending.”

“Depending on what?”

His response is a sly grin.

I want to punch him, but what I feel the most, what knocks the angry hot wind out of my sails, is the fact that I also want to hug him. I hadn’t realized it until now, but I’ve missed him. He’s obnoxious, he’s frustrating, he’s rude, he’s cocky—but he’s Vin, and for some strange reason, I like him. Probably for the same reason I like Ryan and Trent. They’re honest. Annoying as Vin may be, he owns it. He is what he is and he’s not at all sorry.

“So you’re the King now, huh? The new Marlow?”

He shakes his head, his face falling serious. “No. I’m more like the president.”

“I don’t remember enough about life before the fall to know the difference.”

“A king is unchecked power,” Trent tells me. “He can pretty much do what he wants. A president answers to the people. Supposedly.”

“Why supposedly?”

“Depends on if he’s dirty.”

I look Vin up and down. “This one is dirty.”

He smiles at me as he closes the gap between us. “Not as much as I thought I’d be.”

“But a little more than they’d like you to be.”

“They who?”

“The people.”

“Nah, the people love me.”

“What about Marlow?” Ryan asks.

Vin doesn’t flinch. He also doesn’t turn to look at Ryan. He stares at me, his eyes intense and strange. He looks almost angry. “Marlow loves me too,” he purrs.

I narrow my eyes at him, not buying the everything-is-cookies-and-cream act. “Sounds like everybody loves you,” I reply quietly.

He nods in silent agreement.

“But will they still love when you won’t give them what they want?”

“And who am I denying in this scenario?”

“That’s kind of my point.”

“Ask what you’re asking.”

“You know what I’m asking. You know what I’m saying. These people want to be free. Marlow wants both them and the building. You can’t please everybody, so who will you make angry? Who isn’t going to love you in the morning, Vin?”

He leans in close, his breath hot on my face. He smells like candy—like sugar and sweetness, which is just about the weirdest thing ever, but that’s not what worries me. It’s his eyes and his words. They’re both hard and cold, like ice. “Same as always,” he whispers against my skin. “Whoever I screw.”

***

“Your pimp is going to screw us,” Trent tells me.

We’re standing in a small office tucked in the back of the building. Vin has taken it over, putting all of the wasted equipment in the corner—things like filing cabinets, telephones, computers, and inspirational posters telling us to hang in there and be determined to succeed. Thanks, random guy in a stiff-looking suit. I’ll be sure to keep in mind your advice the next time I’m cornered in the dark by flesh-devouring dead.

The cannibals have all been captured and put on lockdown somewhere in the building. I’m not sure what Vin has planned for them and I want to say I don’t care, but I do. I told the cannibals not to hurt any of the Colonists, and now that we’re on the flip side of that, my anxiety is still there. I guess I don’t want bloodshed of any kind, a fact that’s pretty surprising to me. Ask me a few months ago if I cared whose blood was on whose hands and I would have told you that I hope they all kill each other and leave me alone forever. But now here I stand in a building filled with cannibals, Colonists, Hive members, and Lost Boys, and suddenly I’ve lost my edge.

“Yeah, I know,” I mutter.

“Don’t call him her pimp,” Ryan snaps at Trent. “He’s a pimp, not her pimp.”

I glance at Ryan, surprised by his tone. “What’s your deal?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s something.”

“He’s jealous,” Trent says.

Ryan shakes his head in disgust. “Dammit, man.”

“What are you jealous of?” I ask, completely confused.

“He’s jealous of Vin.”

“Trent, seriously, shut up,” Ryan barks.

I frown at him. “Why are you so angry?”

“I’m not angry.”

“He’s jealous,” Trent repeats.

I touch Trent’s arm, hoping he’ll get the hint to shut his mouth for two seconds. “Why are you jealous of Vin?”

“I’m not.”

“He—”

I slap Trent’s arm hard. He finally gets the hint.

“I’m not jealous, all right?” Ryan tells me. “Or maybe I kind of am. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

“He was obviously happy to see you.”

“Because I brought help.”

“That’s not why he was happy to see you. And there’s all that Benjamin talk and the way he looks at you.”

“He’s a pimp. It’s what he does.”

“I want him to stop.”

“He never will.”

“Then I’ll never like this guy.”

“You and nearly everyone else left alive. He’s not very likeable.”

“You like him,” Trent points out.

I close my eyes, wishing I could slap him again. “I do, yeah.”

“Why?” Ryan asks.

“Because he’s my friend,” I say weakly, feeling small talking about this. I’m exposing a chink in my armor. They already know I care about them; now there’s this Vin crap on top of it. If they find out I’m stressing over the welfare of a room full of cannibals they’ll probably take me out back and shoot me in the head because this pony has gone lame.

“A friend who’s going to screw us,” Trent points out.

“Maybe.”

“And you still like him?” Ryan asks, amazed and annoyed.

I shrug, feeling uncomfortable. “It’s hard to explain.”

“If you have to choose sides, him or—”

“You,” I say firmly, looking him dead in the eye. “I will choose you. No question.”

Ryan grins slightly, almost grudgingly. “That’s not what I was going to ask.”

“Oh. What were you going to ask?”

“Him or the cannibals?”

“You. Still you. Whatever side you’re on, that’s where I am.”

“Even if I side against him?”

I chuckle. “I assume you will. Look, I’m not good at reading people or dealing with people. I also don’t have that selfless thing going that you do, so you’re my moral compass. I’ll follow you wherever you tell me to go.”

Ryan raises his eyebrows in surprise. “That’s a lot of faith.”

“I was ready to put my faith in Vin once. Compared to that, you’re a lock. Besides, Trent is stupid smart and he’d follow you to the ends of the earth, so it seems like a safe bet.”

“Unless you go to Canada,” Trent inserts.

Ryan balks. “Why would I go to Canada?”

“My point exactly. It’s cold. I don’t like cold.”

“We should go down to California.”

I shake my head. “Droughts. Fires.”

“Oregon?”

“How is that different from here?”

“Idaho?”

“That’s a worse idea than Canada.”

“You’re determined to hate everywhere, aren’t you?”

“Why does it matter? Are we going somewhere?”

“I don’t know, are we?”

I look at him skeptically. “Are we?”

“Are we?” Trent asks.

“Maybe,” Ryan answers softly.

My stomach churns as my gut tightens. I don’t know what this means for him or for me or for Trent. Is he seriously thinking about leaving here? We don’t know what the world outside of Seattle is like. It could be better, but it could definitely be worse. There could be more compounds like the Colonies, there could be bigger and badder gangs. There could be more zombies than we’ve seen in years or there could be wide open spaces, empty and thriving with life—real life, that doesn’t moan or groan.

It also makes me wonder why we’re doing all this. If he wants to leave, why don’t we just leave? Cut and run. This thing is in motion but there are plenty of bodies ready and willing to carry it out to the end. It doesn’t have be us. They need me to bridge this gap right now, but after that I’m useless. The cannibals have all hinted at that fact. We could leave tonight and never look back. Never remember.

But I know it’s a lie. I know I would always wonder. I would wonder the way the ring still resting on my finger felt heavier the longer I was away. I worried for Vin and the rest of the people in this building every second of every day, and no matter how hard I tried to distance myself from them, I never really left. A part of me was still with them here in this building, trapped and burning to be set free.

“No matter what we do or where we go,” I tell them softly, “we see this through to the end.”

Ryan nods. “Of course.”

I look up at Trent to find him staring out the door and down the hall. I can’t tell what he’s looking at. The long hall is dark and filled with Colonists milling around, waiting for whatever is going to happen to hurry up and happen. Nothing looks unusual to me at all. Whatever has his attention, though, it has it strong. I don’t think he’s blinking.

“Trent?”

“I’ll play follow the leader until it’s done,” he replies, his voice dead.

I frown at Ryan, confused, but if I’m looking for answers I’m looking in the wrong place: his face is a mirror of mine. I’m about to ask Trent what he’s looking at when Vin appears at the end of the hall. People say hello to him as he passes, and generally bask in the glory that is Vin. Women smile, men step aside, and I can immediately see why they fell in line behind him so easily: he has it. It’s the same thing that I don’t have. Never have and never will. The same thing that Ryan has that Trent doesn’t—charisma.

“Thanks for waiting,” he tells us as he comes inside and closes the door solidly behind him.

“What else were we going to do?”

He grins. “I’m glad you’re back, Kitten. I’ve missed that.”

“Missed what?”

“Your bluntness.”

“What happened to the Leaders?”

“See, there it is. Right down to business.”

“What happened to them?” I repeat.

“What do you think happened to them?”

“They’re dead,” Ryan guesses.

I shake my head. “No, they’re not dead. They’re in prison.”

“Why would you think he’d spare them?”

“Because it’s what I would have done. They’re a liability but they’re valuable, but the big question is what are you going to do with them?”

“It’s already happening,” Vin confirms. “We’ve been using them to keep up communications with the other Colonies. We rotate them. Put each of them on the radio at different times to keep up appearances that everything here is business as usual.”

“How long do you think you can keep that up?”

“Not much longer,” he admits, taking a seat. “We’ve been buying time, that’s all. It’s not a permanent solution by any means.”

“What’s your plan then?”

“You.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Me?”

“You were always the plan. Well, except for when I was the plan. You’re what we’ve been stalling for. We’ve been waiting for you to come back with reinforcements. You were supposed to come back with The Hive, but I guess you had other plans.”

“You mean Marlow had other plans,” I say sharply, bristling at the implication that I didn’t do my job. “We went to him. I stood in the center of his filthy lair and I told him everything. I even showed him your ring, and do you know what I got in return?”

“A ride up a brown creek without a paddle?” Vin asks knowingly.

“Winner, winner.”

“I’d like it back, by the way.”

“What? The boat?”

“Hope you can swim,” Ryan mutters.

“No, not the boat,” Vin says impatiently. “The ring.”

I slide it off my finger and toss it to him. He catches it easily. When he slips it on his own finger, I swear I see him relax. As for me, my hand feels oddly empty without it.

“So you brought me savages in place of soldiers?” he asks.

“I brought you what I could get. We even went to Vashon Island looking for help.”

Vin sits up straight, suddenly very interested. “For real? You hit up the Vashons?”

“We tried.”

“And how’d that go?”

“We ended up in prison,” Ryan tells him frankly.

“And now they hate us,” I add. “Colonist boats showed up out of nowhere so they assumed we were spies. We barely made it off the island alive.”

“Colonists showed up how long after? Days? Weeks?”

“Days. There was a fight out on the water. The Vashons won. We barely survived it. The boat Marlow lent us sank, we ended up on the Colonist shore, and that’s when we were found by the cannibals.”

“And the cannibals took you in like the compassionate, social butterflies that they are?” he asks sarcastically.

I scowl at him. “No. They took us prisoner.”

“You’ve been to jail a lot lately,” Vin chuckles. “Do you want me to lock you up for the night? Will you feel more comfortable?”

“They took us to their city under the streets,” I continue. “That’s when they offered to help us.”

“And why would they do that?”

“Because they hate the Colonists as much as anyone else—maybe a little bit more,” Ryan tells him.

“They told us about the arrangement,” I snap.

I shouldn’t have brought it up, not now, but I couldn’t help it. It was out of my mouth before I even knew I was saying it.

Vin looks at me blankly. “What arrangement?”

“The one in your stables. The one with the babies.”

I’ve never been afraid of Vin, and there’s no visible reason why I should be now, but there’s something in the air that changes then. It becomes hotter. Tighter. I feel it burning and turning in my lungs, not filling the space the way it’s supposed to. It’s more like a living, angry, writhing thing threatening to strangle us all with each breath.

A scream cuts through the air and the tension. It’s gut-wrenching, and for a brief, crazy moment I wonder if I made it. The tightness in the room and in my chest make it completely possible, almost probable. But then I hear running outside as Vin leaps from his desk and sprints for the door, and I know it wasn’t me. It’s coming from farther off in the building. Somewhere downstairs.

We follow Vin out of the office, down the stairs, and into the open sleeping area. He stops there, his eyes scouring every corner of the room like a wolf sniffing the air for its prey. The scream sounds again and we’re on the move. I know where we’re going now.

The showers.

Chapter Eight

When we reach the door to the showers we find a crowd already forming. Vin shouts once, just a bark of a noise, and the crowd immediately thins to let him through. I’m amazed by it, but the amazement is short-lived. When I enter the room behind him, my amazement turns to horror.

The floor is bathed in blood. Vibrant red. Living. Warm. The walls are sprayed in a mist of rusty red that’s running down the gray surface, dripping onto the floor, and racing down to move toward the drain. It looks like the little rivulets are trying to get back to the source—to find their way home, but home is just a memory. The heap of red gore and white bone barely resembles a human body anymore. It’s been gutted from the center, desecrated to the very edges.

At the edge of the mess is a woman I recognize from the sewing rooms. She’s on the floor on her knees in the corner, as far away from the body as she can get. She’s sitting silently with her hand against her mouth, her eyes watery and wide. Several people are sitting with her as she shakes uncontrollably.

I hear someone in the hall vomit on the floor—coughs and heaves, the splash of their dinner hitting the cement. Someone else gags. Footsteps run away. It’s then that I realize just how sheltered these people are. There was a time when a sight like this was as common as bird poop; you couldn’t turn a corner without coming face to face with this stuff.

“Who is it?” someone asks tremulously from the corner.

I look at the thin delicate wrist, one of the few sections of skin still intact. It’s a woman.

“Can you tell?” I ask Vin.

He shakes his head.

Ryan steps up beside me. “This is the room we came in through. It was clear when we got here. Joss, Trent, and I were the last to leave it.”

“Not exactly.”

We all turn to look at Trent.

“What do you mean?” Vin demands.

“When we left there was a cannibal guard still inside the tunnel, waiting just under that drain.”

“Bryan,” I breathe, remembering my tall creeper.

“He was one of them?” Vin asks, pointing to the ceiling where the cannibals wait somewhere above us.

“Sort of,” Ryan explains. “He was with them but he wasn’t exactly like them. He was more… predatory than the rest.”

“He freaked me out,” I agree.

“Roll call! Rec room! Now!” Vin commands, turning sharply to the crowd at the door. “No one is left alone! Buddy system goes into effect immediately! Go!”

Everyone flies into action. Only Vin, my Lost Boys, two guards, and I stay in the showers. When we’re alone, Vin turns to the guards, his eyes bright and hot.

“Lock this space down. That drain is a weakness. Seal it.”

“Wait,” I tell the guards, turning to Vin. “You can’t do that. That’s how we got in. How will we get out?”

“You’ll take the water, same way you left before. You don’t need to sneak in and out.”

“Yes, we do. What if the other Colonies have eyes on this place? They can’t see us coming and going over the water or they’ll know something is up. This tunnel is our only way.”

“You expect me to leave it open to the cannibals after this?” he asks angrily, pointing to the woman on the floor.

“Guard it, but don’t seal it. We need it open.”

“For what exactly? Where are you going?”

“It’s not where I’m going, it’s who’s coming. Elijah, the head of the cannibals, will want to come here to talk about what we do next.”

Vin steps up until he’s towering over me. “And what do you think is happening? You think I’m allying with them now?”

“You need to team up with someone,” I snap, not intimidated by him. “You can’t keep this place by yourself. Word is going to get out to Marlow and the Colonies that this place is under new management, and when that happens you’ll have angry armies knocking at your door. What are you going to do then? You’ll lose this place so fast you won’t even remember it, and any chance we had of being free will be dead.”

He chuckles. “Still reaching for that star, huh, Kitten? Freedom?”

“Isn’t that what all of us want?”

“It’s a dream. A stupid one.”

“You wanna be Marlow’s stable boy forever?” I ask, aiming for the belt, or just below. “Do you want to answer to him for the rest of your life? You’re not that old, Vin. You’ve got a lot of years left and you can spend all of them under another man’s thumb or you can be your own man and live your own life free and clear of all of them—the Hive, the Colonists, even the whores.”

Vin stares at me with hard eyes that give nothing away but I know he hears me. I know he wants that freedom because Ryan is wrong: we are alike. And deep down Vin wants it just as badly as I do.

“We have one chance,” Ryan says, coming to stand beside me. “One shot at taking them out, but without this Colony we have nothing.”