Phoenix (Black City #2) 8

“You better return with that weapon, Ash,” Roach says. “We can only hold off the Sentry for so long. We’re all counting on you.”

“I won’t let you down.” I just hope I can keep that promise.

“Right, everyone get ready. We leave in an hour,” she says.

Sigur exits the council chamber with Elijah, and I wonder where they’re going, but I don’t have time to think about it, as Roach walks over to me and Natalie. Garrick’s standing nearby, counting out the boxes of ammunition. We were able to gather a few guns and supplies, after our stockpile was stolen, but it’s not much.

“You guys got everything you need for tomorrow?” she says in a low voice.

I nod. Getting out of Black City is going to be our first challenge, but we’ve got a plan. It’s risky, but it might just work. Only our families, Roach and Amy know the plan. After what happened with James and Hilary from Firebird, we can’t chance telling too many people.

When Roach leaves, Garrick comes over to us.

“I want to come with you and help plant the bombs,” he says.

“That’s okay, we’ve got it worked out,” I say.

“I want to be useful,” Garrick replies. “Besides, if you meet a pack of Lupines on the streets, you won’t stand a chance against them.”

He has a point. “Thanks.”

We can go our separate ways once the bombs have been planted and continue with our original escape plan. Garrick isn’t in the loop about our plot to leave the city and head to Thrace, and I want to keep it that way. I trust him, but if he gets captured tonight, I don’t want him giving away our escape plan to the Sentry.

Nick laughs as Amy paints his face with Cinderstone powder, decorating his eyes just like she did mine a few days ago so that he resembles Phoenix. He’s dressed in my LLF jacket, black trousers and boots, his disheveled hair tinted black with Cinderstone. Except for his green eyes, he looks startlingly like me, which is the whole point. Nick is my decoy.

His counterpart is Amy, who is wearing one of Natalie’s tops, cropped leather pants and knee-high boots; her usually auburn hair has been roughly bleached and curled. Her disguise isn’t quite as convincing as Nick’s, but we’re not looking for perfection—just likenesses close enough to draw the guards away from me and Natalie.

It was Roach’s idea, and I was dead set against it, as were Natalie and Juno, but we were overruled by Amy and Nick. They want to help, and they’re old enough to make their own decisions. Juno keeps glancing toward her sister, a mixture of worry and pride in her blue eyes. The Jones sisters have never been afraid to stand up to the Sentry, but it still can’t be easy for her. At least she’ll be going with them, so they’ll be looked after.

Nick turns to me, beaming, clearly pleased with his transformation. “Hey, Ash, what do you think?”

“You look hideous,” I tease.

“I didn’t have much to work with,” he zings back.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I say to him, ignoring the frosty look from Roach.

“Yeah, sure! Look, we’re all in this together, plus I owe you after Natalie rescued me from that Destroyer Ship.” A shadow passes over his eyes, but he blinks it away. “Besides, I’m digging the makeup.”

“Okay, five-minute countdown, everyone,” Roach says. “Say your good-byes now.”

Sigur stays outside in the ghetto with the Legion guards, splitting the Darklings into their groups. We said our farewells earlier today, knowing he’d be busy. We kept the conversation light, although we both knew it could be the last time we’d ever see each other.

Elijah enters the room at that moment, and I can smell blood on him, sick, diseased blood. It quickly becomes apparent what Sigur asked him to do. I bet the hospital ward where the Wraths were being cared for is now empty. It was the kindest thing. We couldn’t take them with us, and since normal poisons don’t work on Darklings, a dose of Bastet venom would’ve done the trick. At least it would’ve been fast—I doubt they felt much pain, and Elijah’s not at any risk of getting infected; he has a natural immunity to the Wrath since the C18-Virus is present in his venom.

“Sigur wanted you to know that Martha’s arrived,” Elijah says. “She’s outside with him now. She’ll be going with Harold’s team.”

Natalie lets out a relieved sigh. I know she loves her old Darkling housemaid very much. Martha’s been staying with some members of Humans for Unity the past two months.

We check our provisions, and then it’s time to say our good-byes. Beetle’s group is the first to leave, as they’ll be planting the bombs in the Cinderstone factories.

“See you in Centrum, bro,” Beetle says.

“Try not to get blown up again,” I tease, referring to the time he bombed the Boundary Wall.

He laughs. “I can’t promise anything.”

Roach just nods a curt good-bye at me, her mind already on the mission ahead. Day hugs her family members, trying hard not to cry. MJ clings to her. His burns from the house fire are healing nicely, and we gave him plenty of pain medication to take along with him for his back, so he should be all right.

“Be a brave boy, okay?” Day says.

MJ nods, sniffing.

Sumrina gives a little squeak as she holds back her tears. “Take care, my precious girl. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Mama, Papa,” Day replies, hugging them again.

Day wipes her eyes, then comes over to us. We awkwardly shake hands—Day and I have never really managed to form a friendship—then she briefly hugs Natalie before picking up her satchel and rushing out of the room.

Natalie takes a shaky breath. I lightly kiss her forehead.

“She’ll be okay,” I say. “Beetle will take care of her.”

Next out the door is Juno’s group; they are going to plant the bomb in the Park—the neighborhood in the city where the rich used to live, like Natalie’s family, before it was destroyed in last year’s air raids. Nick, Juno and Stuart say quick good-byes, while Amy flings her arms around Natalie. It’s strange seeing the two of them side by side, looking so alike.

“Good luck! Oh, heavens, is that bad luck? Do I mean ‘break a leg’?” Amy says in a rush.

“I think that only applies in the theater,” Natalie says.

“Phew! Well . . . good luck! I’ll see you in Centrum.” She leans conspiratorially toward us, keeping her voice low. “Do you remember how to apply your makeup?”

“I’ve got it,” Natalie says kindly. The makeup is part of our escape plan.

Amy hugs Elijah, then turns shyly to me. “Bye, Ash.”

I give her a quick peck on the cheek, and her face flushes bright red. She hurries over to Juno, and they leave.

I check the gray satchel beside my blue duffel bag, by my feet. The satchel holds the explosives we’ll set around Chantilly Lane Market. Roach gave us a crash course in how to detonate the bombs. It sounds simple enough: in Roach’s words, “just flip the switch and run like hell.”

Garrick strides over and picks up the satchel. “I’ll carry these.”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll—”

“No one’s going to care if my head gets blown off,” he interrupts, his metallic eyes glinting.

I don’t argue. “Thanks.”

Natalie and Elijah deal with our final preparations while I find Dad. He’s standing by the window at the far end of the room, away from everyone else.

“I didn’t think I’d be saying good-bye to you again so soon,” he says, referring to the time we said farewell in my prison cell, just before my execution.

“Hey, on the plus side, at least I’m not about to be crucified,” I say. “That’s better than last time.”

He chuckles, but the sound gets caught in his throat. He pulls me into an embrace, and I wrap my arms around him, holding on for as long as I can.

“I’ll be okay,” I whisper.

“I know you will,” he says, releasing me. “I’m so proud of you, son.”

I smile. “Love you, Dad.”

He ruffles my hair. “Get on out of here.”

I join Natalie, Elijah and Garrick by the door and sling my blue duffel bag over my shoulder; it contains our disguises and my mom’s keepsake box. Natalie and Elijah each carry their own duffel bags filled with provisions.

I take one last look at my friends and family, and say a silent good-bye to them all. Despite all our promises, I suspect we’re never going to meet again. As we walk past the window, I peer up at the Destroyer Ships blocking out the starlight. I don’t think I’m going to survive this war. I may have risen from the ashes like a phoenix, but like the mythical bird, I know my fate is to die in flames.

15.

ASH

CHANTILLY LANE MARKET is deathly silent as we navigate the dark, narrow alleyways between the market stalls. Even the colorful flags outside each stall are still, like the very city itself is holding its breath. Every few hundred yards, Garrick carefully plants a bomb under one of the stalls, targeting the shops with the most flammable merchandise.

“How long do we have?” Natalie asks.

I check the digital monitors on the buildings surrounding the market. The bright yellow numbers of the countdown display read 24:10:00.

“Ten minutes before the factories blow up,” I say. “Let’s get a move on.”

We reach Mollie McGee’s Tavern—a popular drinking establishment with the Sentry guards—and Garrick breaks down the door. We grab bottles of Shine from behind the bar and pour it all over the floor before going outside and dousing the flags and market stalls with the flammable liquid. It’ll help carry the flames to the other stalls, maximizing the damage to the area. I plant the last bomb outside the tavern, and look at the countdown again.

“Five seconds before first strike,” I say.

We watch the seconds tick away:

24:00:05

24:00:04

24:00:03

24:00:02

24:00:01

24:00:00

BOOM!

The explosion roars through the city, sending vibrations up and down our bodies. In the distance, a plume of fire and smoke over a hundred feet tall soars into the air, lighting the sky. It can mean only one thing: the Cinderstone factories are ablaze. Beetle has succeeded.

We’ve barely had time to recover from the shock waves before the digital screens around the city flicker and start broadcasting a live feed of Amy and Nick running through the Park, their backs to the camera so you can’t get a good look at their faces. Everyone will assume that they’re me and Natalie. We’re able to do this because we’re broadcasting within the city limits, like they were doing with the “live feed” of Polly, so the Sentry’s jamming signal doesn’t work, as that only prevents signals coming in or out of the city bounds.

Nick and Amy deposit some explosives outside Natalie’s old family home, a derelict white mansion covered in brambles, then hurry toward the manhole cover in the middle of the street, dropping down into the sewers just as the bomb explodes and another shock wave hits the city. A series of explosions take place in rapid succession as the other bombs in the Park detonate. The old, dry wood from the abandoned houses provides the perfect kindling, and that area of the city is soon an inferno.

Almost immediately, there’s another explosion to the west—this time a power plant—and all the digital screens and streetlights start to pop out one by one, sending a rolling tide of darkness across the city.

There’s a moment of stillness before all hell breaks loose. Air-raid sirens wail, people scream, footsteps echo in the streets as citizens run for cover. Everything is going according to schedule. Right now, I know Dad and Logan are leading the first teams out of the ghetto under the cover of darkness. I say a silent prayer for them all. We’ve done everything we can; now it’s up to fate to determine whether they get out of Black City alive.

“Our turn,” I say. “You ready?”

Garrick, Natalie and Elijah all nod. Our bombs are on a time delay, so once I flip the first switch, we’ll have just three minutes to get out of the market before the first bomb detonates and sets the others off in a chain reaction.

I peer up at the sky. The first Transporters start to drop from the Destroyer Ships. Some head toward the Cinderstone factories, others to the Park, where the bombs have gone off. There’s no time to wait. I flip the switch.

The three-minute countdown begins.

We sprint through the market, tearing through the warren of alleyways, me leading the way, as my eyesight is best in the dark.

Two minutes.

I turn a corner and immediately realize I’ve gone the wrong way when we’re confronted with a brick wall. Fragg!

“Ash, this way,” Natalie says, guiding us down another passageway.

The colorful bunting around the market stalls flutters as we rush by. We pass the fishmongers, the jewelry stores, finally reaching the clothing stores on the outer rim of the market.

One minute.

We reach a crossroads.

“Which way?” Elijah asks.

“I don’t know,” Natalie says. “I always get lost around here.”

We don’t have time to waste. I just follow my gut and pick the passageway on the right.

Thirty seconds.

As we run down a narrow alleyway, Natalie’s foot slips on a loose cobblestone, and she stumbles. Garrick roughly drags her to her feet.

Ten seconds.

“There! Look!” Elijah says.

A crack of light between two stalls.

We run toward it.