you get caught you are going to die a slow and horrible death.
Pace keeps a tight hold on my hand. I don’t know if it’s because I’m not as fast as him, or because he’s afraid I will leave him to the filchers while I slip into the tunnels. Either way, we pound through the awakening streets, Pace’s speed and grip on my hand adding wings to my feet.
We round a corner. Dash into an alleyway. Cut back in a narrow gap between two buildings. Duck beneath a cart that stands tipped against a wall. My heart pounds in my chest and my ears ring with the rushing of blood through my veins. My lungs scream in agony. Pace holds my hand against his chest as he peers out of our hiding place. His grip is so tight that my fingers feel numb.
“It’s just a matter of time before the alarms go off.” His words are soft, yet steady. I can barely breathe from our wild run. His lungs are clearer than mine and much stronger from living above. “Are we close to one of your escape hatches?”
I start to protest—how does he know about escape hatches?—and then I realize he’d seen me use one. I need to catch my breath, to get my bearings. I have no idea where we are.
Pace looks at me, his blue eyes steady on mine. “I’m sorry you got caught up in this.”
I shake my head. Now is not the time for blame or apology. We need to get below. Without him I have no way of proving the truth of Alex’s death. My breathing evens out so I can speak. “Where are we?”
“We’re close to Park Front. On the same street I saw you on yesterday. Further up.”
Park Front. Close to where the royals live. Pace led us in the complete opposite direction of where we needed to go. There are no escape hatches in Park Front, nor in the trade section to where I followed Lucy the day before. My mind races as I try to decide our best route to below. We can’t go down in the lift as the bluecoats will be watching it. And I seriously doubt the filchers will let the threat of the tunnels keep them from following us if we use one of the escape hatches. Before I can form the next thought the alarm goes off, scaring me so much that I jump with the suddenness of its scream.
“Which way?” His words are lost in the screeching noise that is amplified a thousand times over with its reverberation off the dome.
I point because I know Pace cannot hear my words. “We’ve got to get close to the coal lift. That’s where most of the escape hatches are.” It’s on the opposite side of the dome. We’ve got a long way to go. The odds of us making it are close to impossible. Pace still has hold of my hand. For some strange reason, it reassures me, as if together we can make it. We have to make it; our very lives depend upon it.
Pace looks right and left, and then leads me out from our hiding place. He flattens against the wall when we come to the end of the gap and cautiously looks around. The alarm is still shrieking its call. Some will remain in their homes to wait to hear news of why the alarm is on. Those who are already out for the morning will go to the fountain where Alex died to hear the news. The streets will be mostly empty, until we get to scarab town. We will be easy targets if we are seen.
“Let’s go,” he says and we dash across the alley. We continue on, sneaking from corner to corner, place to place, Pace leading, and holding on to my hand until I feel like I’m an extension of his arm. My pulse falls into the same pattern as his, thumping slowly as he checks the next steps in our escape, then pounding as we expose ourselves to view with our mad dashes to the next hiding place. I stop thinking about the fear and the end result if we are captured. Instead I concentrate on being invisible, on willing the tradesmen, whose shops and storefronts we use as shelter, not to see us.
I am now in more familiar territory. I recognize the place where I last saw Lucy. So much has happened since then that it is hard for me to believe that it was just
Pace keeps a tight hold on my hand. I don’t know if it’s because I’m not as fast as him, or because he’s afraid I will leave him to the filchers while I slip into the tunnels. Either way, we pound through the awakening streets, Pace’s speed and grip on my hand adding wings to my feet.
We round a corner. Dash into an alleyway. Cut back in a narrow gap between two buildings. Duck beneath a cart that stands tipped against a wall. My heart pounds in my chest and my ears ring with the rushing of blood through my veins. My lungs scream in agony. Pace holds my hand against his chest as he peers out of our hiding place. His grip is so tight that my fingers feel numb.
“It’s just a matter of time before the alarms go off.” His words are soft, yet steady. I can barely breathe from our wild run. His lungs are clearer than mine and much stronger from living above. “Are we close to one of your escape hatches?”
I start to protest—how does he know about escape hatches?—and then I realize he’d seen me use one. I need to catch my breath, to get my bearings. I have no idea where we are.
Pace looks at me, his blue eyes steady on mine. “I’m sorry you got caught up in this.”
I shake my head. Now is not the time for blame or apology. We need to get below. Without him I have no way of proving the truth of Alex’s death. My breathing evens out so I can speak. “Where are we?”
“We’re close to Park Front. On the same street I saw you on yesterday. Further up.”
Park Front. Close to where the royals live. Pace led us in the complete opposite direction of where we needed to go. There are no escape hatches in Park Front, nor in the trade section to where I followed Lucy the day before. My mind races as I try to decide our best route to below. We can’t go down in the lift as the bluecoats will be watching it. And I seriously doubt the filchers will let the threat of the tunnels keep them from following us if we use one of the escape hatches. Before I can form the next thought the alarm goes off, scaring me so much that I jump with the suddenness of its scream.
“Which way?” His words are lost in the screeching noise that is amplified a thousand times over with its reverberation off the dome.
I point because I know Pace cannot hear my words. “We’ve got to get close to the coal lift. That’s where most of the escape hatches are.” It’s on the opposite side of the dome. We’ve got a long way to go. The odds of us making it are close to impossible. Pace still has hold of my hand. For some strange reason, it reassures me, as if together we can make it. We have to make it; our very lives depend upon it.
Pace looks right and left, and then leads me out from our hiding place. He flattens against the wall when we come to the end of the gap and cautiously looks around. The alarm is still shrieking its call. Some will remain in their homes to wait to hear news of why the alarm is on. Those who are already out for the morning will go to the fountain where Alex died to hear the news. The streets will be mostly empty, until we get to scarab town. We will be easy targets if we are seen.
“Let’s go,” he says and we dash across the alley. We continue on, sneaking from corner to corner, place to place, Pace leading, and holding on to my hand until I feel like I’m an extension of his arm. My pulse falls into the same pattern as his, thumping slowly as he checks the next steps in our escape, then pounding as we expose ourselves to view with our mad dashes to the next hiding place. I stop thinking about the fear and the end result if we are captured. Instead I concentrate on being invisible, on willing the tradesmen, whose shops and storefronts we use as shelter, not to see us.
I am now in more familiar territory. I recognize the place where I last saw Lucy. So much has happened since then that it is hard for me to believe that it was just
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