98
THE LONER
IF THE LONER KNEW THAT Becca called him “Blondie McMystery Man,” he would have bent double laughing. Out of the many names he was known by, that was the funniest by
far.
Right now he might be mistaken for just another hobo hanging out under a bridge. Except all the usual bridge-dwellers had mysteriously taken a hike. Very carefully, the Loner attached a plastic box to the underside of the main bridge strut. He wiggled it a little, making sure it was stuck on well.
Looking at Bets, he saw the young woman was leaning way back, covering her face, and he grinned. Seating himself more comfortably on a hunk of concrete, the Loner opened an app on his phone and clicked. The plastic box had a couple of small lights attached to it, and one lit up green.
“The last one,” he said. “Lucky thirteen.”
As they climbed the embankment, a street cleaner was unenthusiastically pushing a wide broom. He gave them one glance and barked, “Pick that trash up!” pointing to a crumpled piece of paper at the Loner’s feet. As the Loner bent down to pick it up, the street cleaner sped up, pushing the broom fast away from them.
The Loner opened the paper and read it. He frowned.
“What is it?” Bets asked.
“Helen Strepp,” he said thoughtfully. “She needs a… hand.”
99
CASSIE
THE GUARD YELLED OVER THE alarms, “You’re not from here! You’re from Outside!”
Tim grabbed my arm. “Let’s go!”
We ran past the guard, but guards were already spilling out of everywhere, racing to the gates, and my blood turned to ice water.
“Quick!” Tim yelled and made a step for me out of his hands. Without hesitation I launched myself at him and he propelled me strongly upward, over the seven-foot turnstile and almost over the razor wire. It caught my long coat as I twisted through the air, coiled for a landing. I heard shredding sounds but landed neatly on top of the guard shack, popping to my feet instantly.
Whipping out my rifle, I shouted, “Who came to work to die today?” and shot at the roof so they’d know I wasn’t joking. The guards stood back, seeming confused about a citizen who fought back.
Tim scrambled up over the turnstile as I kept my gun pointed at the guards, waving it from one to another as they tried to intervene. Stepping on the lower wire, Tim held up the higher one so he could scramble through as the guards decided to take a chance and jumped up at him uselessly. Once he was on the roof, we both dodged bullets and ran, then windmilled to a stop at the far edge.
Below us, ladders hit the wall and guards started climbing up.
An alley separated this building from the next. I thought I could probably make it, with a running start. I looked up at Tim and we read each other’s minds. We both knew he could make it for sure.
Damnit.
100
BECCA
“GRAB YOURSELF AN APRON OVER there,” one of the sous-chefs snapped. I’d just stepped through the kitchen door and was already overwhelmed. It was enormous, several huge rooms connected by wide doorways. Servants rushed back and forth, all wearing crisp white aprons.
I didn’t see Nate anywhere—the air was steamy and there seemed to be hundreds of people, all shouting. I tied an apron on, then sidled along one wall, looking for Nate and trying to figure out what to do. Who did I need to talk to in order to make sure I was in the dining room with the President?
One sideboard I walked past held ten, eleven… fourteen cakes and pies. All I wanted to do was throw myself on top of them, snorfling them up like a pig.
And I thought: These people do this all the time. This amazing food is normal, regular. I thought about our school bazaar, where everyone brought their best cooking. This kitchen made the bazaar, once big and exciting, look ridiculous and pathetic. Ma’s pineapple upside-down cake used to win awards, and after she left for her mood-adjust, Cassie had made it and still won prizes. Now I looked at a three-tiered, finely iced chocolate thing dotted with sour cherries and I was filled with rage.
“Move!” I jumped when someone bellowed at me and darted to one side.
I was here on a mission, I reminded myself. I was here to right at least some of the wrongs these people had done to us cellfolk. And I needed to get cracking.