Joan Undone

Chapter 43

"I need to get going. I won't cut this too close when Justus's life is on the line," I say.

Harriet grips my hand tightly. "You can do this. Your life has value. Don't give it up without a fight."

"I won't let you down this time," I say, looking at the steady, determined faces that fill the Bunker. "After today, the world will remember our names. When they see our faces, they will think of the Throwbacks who risked their lives to save their city, not echoes of past heroes. Even for the most prejudiced Evolved, we will be more than our DNA."

"By God, but that girl can speak," Kat says, her eyes aglow.

"Yes. And she can fight, too," Harriet says.

The warmth in her eyes is the last thing I see before I leave the Bunker, ready to face my fate.

~ ~ ~

The streets of Seattle are quiet as I jog through them. Every now and then, a flash of color moves in my peripheral vision, but I never know if it's an early-rising citizen out to meet the day or one of Crew's promised soldiers monitoring me.

The city turns more dilapidated the closer I get to the Space Needle. By the time I can see it at a distance, only the poorest Throwback shanties line the cracked city streets. In this part of the city, people are awake. The day starts much earlier for Throwbacks. They watch me, wary, as I hurry toward the ancient monument.

I notice a strange shape dangling from the outer edge of the Space Needle when I'm still a few blocks away. Dread rises in my stomach as I get closer. A body is strung up there, hung by the neck.

My feet pound the cracked sidewalk as I run, but I can't tear my eyes from that swinging body. The feet twitch and jerk at first, and one red shoe clatters to the ground below. By the time I arrive at the base of the Space Needle, the body is still.

I recognize the fallen shoe, a tattered red sneaker covered in the clinical equations I've learned by heart. My mouth opens, as if I'm about to release a scream, but nothing comes out.

Justus. My Justus hangs there, dead. The spectacle is so horrific my mind tries to reject it.

"You didn't come fast enough, so we killed him," Joseph says, stepping outside to examine my reaction.

I make a sound then, a choked gasp of horror and rage and grief.

Joseph rolls his eyes. "I'm kidding. It didn't matter when you showed up. We were going to kill him either way. Crew wanted you to see it, to have that image in your mind for the rest of your life."

My rage rises, sweeping away my grief, at least for now. It's a tangible pulse in my body, and I revel in the strength and certainty it gives me.

Time to test out our newest weapon in the field. I send a mental message to Joseph through the Mind Manipulator embedded in my neck.

Kneel. Kneel. Kneel.

Joseph's knees begin to bend, and I don't wait for his conscious brain to override my directive. The distraction gives me the three seconds I need to kick him in the head with my steel-toed boot.

The metal cracks against his skull, hard enough to send him flying backward. I regret leaving my weapons behind, because there will be no pretense of compliance to Crew's orders now. No matching of wits or a formal exchange of prisoners, like I'd planned for. All that's left is the fight.

I storm past Joseph's unconscious body and race inside the Space Needle. How many people can I take out before they kill me? There's no way I'll be lucky enough to kill Crew, but maybe I can destroy some of their—

I pass through the entrance of the old monument and am met with silence. My eyes skate around the building, so that my contacts can send video to my team at the Bunker. Crew and his people are not here.

It's a classic tactic in war, one we should have been ready for. He made us look left, while he attacked on the right.

The sensible thing to do would be to regroup with my team, so that we can join forces with Officer Ben and protect the people near Strand's headquarters.

But my feet won't listen to reason. They carry me up the metal stairs to the top of the Space Needle. I'm gasping by the time I reach the saucer at the top. Once, it must have been a fancy restaurant. Now, the windows are broken, and wind whistles through the space. Glass crunches beneath my boots as I make my way toward the edge of the saucer.

I climb out of one of the broken windows and inch toward the edge of the sloped exterior. It's too late to save Justus, but I won't leave him there, swinging, for another moment.

Twice I lose my footing and nearly slip to my death, but the near-misses don't change my mind. Finally, I reach the spot where Justus hangs. I peer over the edge. His hair blows in the breeze, and somehow, that makes the stillness of the rest of him worse.

He has been hung with an orange microfiber rope made of a strong plastic alloy. I use all my strength to wind it around a broken piece of the metal roof to give me leverage. The rope slices my hands as I pull up Justus's body.

It isn't the workouts in the Bunker's gym that give me the strength to haul one hundred and sixty pounds of muscle up to the roof. Sheer adrenaline powers me. I have to see his face.

A wild thought darts through my mind, that I'll take the kiss I've yearned for, even if it kills me. I have to touch him, hold him, one more time.

Finally, his brown head of hair peeks above the rim of the roof. I secure the rope and slide back down to the edge of the saucer. I put both of my arms beneath his and haul him onto the roof.

But it isn't Justus's dear, familiar face contorted from hanging.

Relief courses through me first. That's what will haunt me for years to come. That before the regret, the grief, the horror, there is relief.

Then the pain does come, and it is tidal. Because in Justus's place is the man who would do anything to protect a life I loved.

"Nic, no. Please, no."