inDIVISIBLE (32 page)

He shrugged. “Like I said, as a boy all I wanted to do was play in the woods
, and I did, every chance I had. I got in trouble for it plenty, but I learned a lot too. Between experimenting with the plants and my brief horticulture education, I also learned that these trees—aspen—have medicinal qualities in their bark. It helps take away the pain.” He grimaced as he pushed back to his feet.

“Can we take a whole tree with us?” I asked.

He half-smiled and cut away another chunk to place in his back pocket before starting off again. I reluctantly pushed away from the cool earth and followed.

“T,” I whispered.

He stopped. “Yeah?”

“When was the last time you heard a bird chirp?”

CHAPTER
38

The Alliance had not returned for their officers. No machine guns flew in to blow us apart, but the birds continued to hide. Squirrels vanished, and even the gentle hum of insects had ceased.

“How loud are drones, T?”

We walked slowly, watching our trail, surveying our left and our right. “The replays on the PCAs are silent,” he said.

I clutched the rock in my fist as the earth tilted harshly
, and I had to clutch onto a tree to keep from toppling. “Did you feel that?” I asked.

T turned. “Feel what?”

I pushed from the tree. “Nothing.”

T placed the back of his hand to my forehead then my cheek, feeling for a fever. “You’re paler than I’ve ever seen you, even with the sunburn,” he said, “and you’re burning up.”

“I think I’m dehydrated,” I said.

T chuckled. “What gave you that idea?”

I ducked my head, remembering how thin he’d been when he lifted his shirt. At least he could handle it better than me. One of us should be coherent. “Have you seen any water lately?” I asked.

He motioned toward the valley. “Just down the street. Should I go pick up a bottle or two?”

I laughed but it hurt, and my head ached. “Please.” I must have touched my temple because T caught my hand and pressed his fingers to my temple before turning his back and pacing. “It’s not fair, Brynn,” he mumbled, “we can’t let them kill us, not like this.”

Pressure built at the backs of my eyes
, and I knew that if I had any water in my body at all it would have turned to tears—tears of frustration and anger—tears that would fight for revenge. I took a deep breath and focused on the cliffs ahead. We would make it and give the signal, at least that way, they’d be expecting us. They would see us stagger and they’d have water ready.

             
If we both made it.

“T?” I asked.

He stiffened as if sensing my question.

“
That premonition,” I continued. “Do you still feel it?”

He picked up the pack and slung it onto his back, though the effort caused a great strain on his ribs. “We’ve got to keep moving, Brynn.”

I caught his arm. “Please, T.”

He rolled his eyes but relaxed long enough to look me in the eye and answer, “Something bad is going to happen, but I don’t know what and I don’t know how to stop it.”

“Happen to who?” I whispered, but I already knew the answer from our last conversation.

He shook his head and touched my cheek, the motion making my heart swell and break at once. “I’m new to this God concept—so let’s call it worry.”

I thrust my hands into my pockets. “I’m worried too, T.”

“I worry about you, about anything happening to you,” he began, “because I truly love you, every bit of you.”

I caught my lip between my teeth and sniffed back the emotion building behind my eyes. “And I worry about you, because I don’t think I could go on living without you.”

T’s hand slipped beneath my chin and he raised it. “You’re stronger than you realize, Brynn.” He kissed me, a lingering kiss that made my chest ache with wanting—wanting a secure future, a life with T.

“I don’t want to be strong without you.”

He smiled and took my hand. “It’s worry,” he confirmed, “nothing more.”

I knew he lied, but I preferred to believe it.

C
HAPTER 39

“Sofi believed in an afterlife,” I said.

T held onto my arm as we began our walk along the cliff’s edge, worried I may fall right over. “Yeah?” he asked.

“She told me that men more often than not, did what they thought was best, but sometimes it doesn’t turn out to be the best thing for anyone. She said it would all be sorted out one day, when we die.”

“So she believed in God?” T asked, sounding like he w
as more involved in keeping me talking than the conversation itself.

“She didn’t say.”

“She had to believe in something if she talked like that.”

Loose rocks made it difficult to find steady footing
, and my heart pounded erratically as I inched my way forward, toward a few trees that were more bark than leaves. We’d found our dead branch, now to get to it without plummeting to our deaths. The hillside sloped up on our left, rocks cutting through the soil to prove how harsh the land could be beneath the plants. To our right awaited a 100 foot fall. The cliff face had few indentations or shelves, making it a deathtrap should the loose soil beneath us deem our lives unnecessary. Sand fell over the cliff with each step, the rocks lost in the fall before I ever heard them hit. I closed my eyes, feeling the world sway and threw them open again, taking a step to keep the earth beneath me. “She said there was something out there bigger than all of us.”

T’s steps were no faster than mine, one arm splayed out for balance while the other held his ribs.
“God.”

Sweat dripped into the corner of my eye, stinging. I swiped it with the back of my hand but just seemed to rub more sweat into it than I removed.
I lifted my shirt and swiped my eyes. “Just something big.”

“What would that be if not God?” T asked.

I ignored his question and asked him, “Do you think it’s true that people generally have good intentions, they just go wrong?”

His pace stayed steady. His breathing more labored. I wondered if he was so tired or if the rib had injured a lung.
“I guess it’s possible.”

“So is God going to get mad at them for doing bad things when they were really doing what they thought was right?”

T tripped and dropped to his knees. One leg slipped off the edge of the cliff when he tried to stand. I planted my feet shoulder width, bent my knees and reached out. T waved me away. “I don’t want you coming over the edge too.”

I backed up, my head swimming and tried to keep the world upright.

The thunder in the distance felt welcome, a rainstorm to wipe away the heat, until it continued at a steady pace, increasing in volume until a helicopter swooped overhead, passing us by to land near the fallen officers.

“I hope he’s still alive,” I whispered.

T rolled onto his butt and scooted backward, pulling his leg back up. “There’s no way they didn’t see us.”

“But—but,” I stuttered. “They went for their men first. We still have time.”

“Not much,” T said, pushing to his feet. “We’ve got to get over that rise and find cover.”

I turned and took the lead, picking my way over stones and loose sand, still soft and slick after the rains. My feet slid, my heart slamming in my chest. I rubbed my hand along the back of my neck and tripped over nothing.

“You’re okay,” T called, falling behind. I turned. His face contorted with pain—his hand pressed tightly to his broken rib.

“You’re okay too, T.”

He smiled, gritted and pushed forward.

A gentle whirring started at the back of my head
.

T’s eyes widened
, and I wondered if I’d gone so pale that he thought I’d pass out again. Was the whirring some kind of indication? “T,” I said.

“
Duck, Brynn. Duck, then run out of here. Find safety,” he ordered, glancing over the side of the cliff.             

The whirring got louder
, and the world tilted again. I placed my hands over my ears and dropped as an explosion ripped apart the tree where we’d been planning to get our branch.

I screamed, the noise echoing off the cliff face.

“Brynn!” T yelled, his movements frantic now as he scrambled forward. “Run!”

The drone circled around, took aim at T and my stomach s
ank. “Do something,” I whispered.

“Pl
ay ball, Brynn. Strike them out,” T said, his voice calm, legs still propelling him forward, though too close to the cliff.

I pulled a rock from my pocket and
threw it like they’d taught me in elementary. It fell a yard short of the drone and bullets erupted. Rocks splintered and dust flew. As the bullets stopped. T was missing.

“T!” I screamed.

I dove to the side as the drone aimed at me. The machine gun blew shards of rock into powder and it filled my nose threatening to make me sneeze. I swiped my nose across my sleeve and gripped another stone.

“Come on, T,” I pleaded
, eyes darting between the empty cliff and the drone.

I turned the rock over in my hand as the drone advanced again. It hovered and I threw like I’d been taught, just clipping the back of the gun and making it spin so that the bullets embedded in the dirt to my left. I scooted back, away from the drone and
pulled another rock from my pack.

             
I could do this.
I threw another rock and it cleared the rotors before falling away.
Maybe I couldn’t.
“Please be safe, T.”

I threw a rock, then another and another, the drone coming forward slowly, unfazed by my attempts. Only a few rocks left in my pack
… I knew I had to make something count. I glanced to the rock again, and T’s hand cleared the cliff-side. I wanted to laugh but couldn’t muster the courage.

The drone turned, took aim at T as his head popped above the cliff—fired. I ran toward the machine, throwing my heaviest rock as hard as I could. It bounced off one of the rotors, creating a screech. It shot again
, and T’s head dropped in a rush of dust and debris. He yelled, his voice echoing off the mountains a full second before it silenced.

T …

My ribs ached from my pounding heart, and I backed up now, the drone turning. I no longer heard the machine, just saw it as it was on the PCAs, silent and deadly. It focused on me and started forward. I no longer cared.

I stared at the spot where T had gone over, waited for his head to rise, a hand to appear, anything.
The pounding in my chest seemed to cease as my head clouded.
I don’t want to live without you,
I’d said. And I’d meant it, but I wouldn’t make it easy for them.

I p
icked up a few of the rocks I’d already thrown. I gripped one hard, my fingers turning white, and I stared into that camera.

             
I threw and it clipped a rotor, making a clicking sound before returning to its gentle whir. Another rock hit the front of the drone, and I heard a crack.
The camera
. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to see us now, I hoped.

The drone came a
t me, swooping in close before shots fired to my left, one bullet grazing my side as the others pelted rock. “T!”

I ran then, full speed across the top of the cliff, earth swaying and my legs tangling. I didn’t care if I fell to my death. I’d prefer it to them shooting me in the back. A crack snagged my foot
, and I sprawled across the ground, my rocks rolling from my pack out of reach. Many of them clattered over the cliff face, and I turned to face my attacker, inching backward until I found a stone.

The gun raised
, and I threw my stone as hard as I could manage. It glanced off of the drone—shots pelted the ground to my right.

             
I will not cower,
I silently chanted. If they wanted to kill me, they’d find a way to kill me. But I was through cowering. I stood, faced the camera and shouted, “You want me dead? Go ahead and shoot me but I guarantee there will be more just like me! One day, we’ll take you down and you won’t be able to stop us!”

The drone aimed. I threw my arms out to my sides and waited, the world swirling as my head turned to a thunderous pounding.
“What are you waiting for?”

The drone dropped l
ower, took a close-up of my face, just like it always did for the PCA news briefs.

I closed my eyes and didn’t have the willpower to flinch
when the explosions started. Pain ripped through my skin like little pinholes of torture until I fell to the ground unable to open my eyes.