Last Star Burning (Last Star Burning #1)

Yi-lai’s right about Tai-ge. If the City really was trying to get me under the Arch, and Tai-ge tried to help me, he’d probably end up kneeling under the ax along with me. It happens all the time.

The truck pulling us wrenches to a stop, and this time I can’t save my shoulder from banging against the side. My head swims with exhaustion, but my brain won’t shut off to let me sleep. Two days alone in the wine cellar gave Dr. Yang time to arrange a way out. Two sleepless days to pace the length of the tiny room, wondering when the door would break down and Reds would pour in like bees swarming an intruder.

Yi-lai only came in once, right after Dr. Yang left, holding a pair of tweezers. I lay there staring up at him for an hour or more while he picked glass shards from my lips and face, the blue and green pieces from the bottles making a bloody pile next to me. I stopped him when he reached for one of my hands to do the same. It hurt, but I needed something to do myself. He mostly left me alone after that, only opening the door to pass food along, to leave a bucket for when my bladder began to press. But every now and then I heard him move on the other side of the door, as if he was just outside, sleeping across the doorway.

We haven’t talked about what happened. The bottles and the glass.

I’ve never had an SS compulsion before. Never. They keep us so medicated that compulsions aren’t a problem at the orphanage. But sometimes with the new Mantis resistance, there are near accidents, like with Peishan. Sometimes it’s worse, and no one notices it until it’s too late. My own sister was shot down by the Watch like a rabid dog. She had been running through the streets with an ax. Now I know what she must have been thinking. My brain knew that my body was going to kill itself, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I’ve never been frightened of what I am until now. The bitter aftertaste still bites more than two days later.

Life with no Mantis? It is worse than my fear of the dark. Worse than living in a City of people that hate me. Worse than a traitorous mother opening my veins, then abandoning me to a life of hard labor and infection she inflicted on me. Worse even than watching my sister die. Now I know what the monster inside of me looks like. How can I survive knowing any moment it could come back?

Unless I go with them to Kamar, I doubt I’ll see another Mantis pill beyond the ones in the pack Dr. Yang shoved into my hands before slamming the back door of the trailer shut. If Kamar even has Mantis. Isn’t that why they keep attacking the City? They’re after our Mantis stores. When I run out of pills, I’ll have no way to stop compulsions. I’ll be a danger to anyone within reach. I know compulsions aren’t always violent, but it will only be a matter of time. How can Yi-lai take me Outside, knowing that in a week, a month, I might wake up with my brain wiped of everything that made me Jiang Sev, replaced by a killer?

I almost ask him. But looking past the breath misting out in front of my face, I notice Yi-lai’s head lolling against the wall.

He’s asleep.

You’d think someone who grew up sleeping on a feather bed would be a little pickier. Or that in the face of escaping with an infected fugitive, he might be a little more worried. But no. I find some space in my nest of self-loathing to be annoyed.

The trailer gives an impressive jolt as we go over a pothole, sending me crashing into him. We both roll back and rub our heads.

“I thought we were on the same side!” Yi-lai complains.

“I’m still not sure which side that is, Yi-lai,” I reply. I still have no idea why the Firsts’ most beloved son would willingly choose to leave the City, especially for a traitor like me. Dr. Yang has been so adamant about Kamar not existing, but he has yet to even hint at some other destination. Our Outside patrollers are fighting someone out here, even if the doctor and Yi-lai don’t like the name the City has given them. The bodies strung up on the City Center prove it.

After a few minutes, he nudges me. “You can call me Howl, if you want. I’ve never cared for Yi-lai. My dad called me Howl when I was little, and it stuck. I guess I had a good set of lungs. Yi-lai is just what old people call me.”

I shrug. “Okay. Howl. You know my name.”

“Kind of an odd one. Sev.”

“No worse than Howl.” I stare down at the floor. I don’t even know where my mother came up with the name Sev. Just another thing that set me apart from all the obedient, compliant workers down in the Third Quarter.

Hours later, my stomach is sloshing back and forth with every turn of the serpentine switchbacks until I’m about ready to offer up the coat and all our food for a breath of fresh air. As if Dr. Yang can read my mind, the truck sputters to a stop, the trailer fishtailing a bit in a series of sickening jerks. Voices from outside set my heart jumping. It is hard to tell, but they sound like Reds.

Through a crack between crates, Dr. Yang’s head appears in a blaze of late-afternoon light at the back of the trailer, his face unreadable and dark. He is saying something to a harassed-looking man with two red stars decorating his shoulder. Howl and I are tucked behind a huge box of rusty, broken nails, out of sight.

“If there were anyone back here, they would have jumped off a long time ago. I told you, we’re just harvesting wood to rebuild the bridge Kamar blew to pieces a few days ago.” Dr. Yang’s tired voice skids across my high-strung nerves, my skin prickling as I wait for a gun to level in my direction. “There’s a side door too, if you want to check that.”

The Red shakes his head, voice surprisingly deep. “We’ll have to have you unload everything so we can go through it.”

“Fine. I don’t have anything to hide. . . .” His voice fades as he and the Red walk around toward the front of the trailer.

He doesn’t have anything to hide? I curl up as small as I can, trying to control the fear gnawing at my insides. How could Dr. Yang have walked us right through a checkpoint? If he wanted me to live so badly, then why . . . I look up as Howl waves to get my attention.

He points to the side door, low on the wall next to him. Cracking it open, he squints into the sliver of sunlight pouring in. “Hide under the trailer until you’re sure it’s clear and then make for the ditch over there. There’s some tree cover, and they’re all up at the front right now.”

“We’re leaving? What about Dr. Yang?” I ask.

“It’s that or let the Seconds drag us back to the City. We’re lucky we’ve lasted in the back of the trailer this long, actually.”

I look through the cracked door to be sure the men are out of sight, then slide out and under the rusted metal frame. The ground is frozen, scrubby tufts of dead grass needle-sharp under my hands.

Howl pushes the packs under the trailer before squeezing after me, sandwiching them between us. When Dr. Yang’s worn dress shoes lead the Seconds back toward the truck, I crawl toward the opposite side of the trailer to peek out. The army checkpoint must be over by the door where Dr. Yang is starting to swear. This side is completely clear, a few spindly trees marking a ditch that runs along the road about ten paces off. Beyond that, all I see are misty clouds that shroud our mountain range through most of the winter.

Outside. Where Sephs run wild and fantastical gores eat the dead. Even looking out at the unwalled horizon feels exposed and risky, as if creatures of either the human or animal variety lie waiting to eat me alive.

Is it better than death to be stuck Outside? I blink, almost expecting a hallucination to follow a thought so dark, but nothing comes. I won’t betray my City or Tai-ge, no matter what Dr. Yang and Howl want from me.

But I would rather be alive than dead.

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