“No, Jack,” Fleeter said. “But at least I know I'm dreaming. Helping you get back to your family, helping you all…perhaps that'll give me a chance to wake.”
Jack could have asked Breezer to use his own talent to probe inward, discover Fleeter's truths. And Jack thought he could have also done so himself. But he thought this was something that demanded trust.
“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it.
“Don't thank me yet.” She shrugged. “I know he's your father, and there's more of that left in him than you give him credit for. But Reaper's a mean bastard. No saying what he'll do next.”
“Yeah, I know,” Jack said. “Not as if we haven't already got stuff keeping us on our toes.”
She laughed again, and Jack prodded her shoulder, a friendly nudge. He might have hit Sparky in the same way. Something told him that Fleeter was not the hugging kind.
They moored the boat and disappeared into an Italian restaurant on the riverfront, gathering in the kitchen, and their mood was dour. Few words were exchanged. They had to formulate a plan, but their futures looked so bleak that no one knew where to begin.
Breezer decided to leave. Jack asked him to stay, but he only shook his head, defeated. “I have friends,” he said. “People who've looked up to me for too long for me to abandon them now. I want to be with them when…at the end.”
“You can't just give up!” Jack said.
“You can't,” Breezer replied. “Jack, you can get your friends out easily. With the abilities you have, and with her.” He nodded at Fleeter. She sat apart from the others, quiet and still.
“There's no way I'll do that and leave everyone else to die,” Jack said. But the harsh idea had already crossed his mind. Around eight hours until the bomb exploded, and soon would come the cut-off time for him and the others to escape London. Before then they'd have a chance, and Breezer was right—Jack could get them out. After that point, they'd have run out of time to flee. He didn't know the extent of the damage the bomb would cause, but the Exclusion Zone formed the boundary they had to cross.
The thought of running, and failing everyone in London, was terrible. Jack's abilities gave him a sense of responsibility which he couldn't shake. When the time came, perhaps he would send Fleeter out with his friends. But he could never leave. Nomad's touch had made him a part of what London had become, whether that city's doom was sealed or not.
“We can't just give up,” he said to Breezer. This time it sounded like a plea. The others were watching, and Jenna stood close to Jack, supporting him with her strong silence.
“We rush the Exclusion Zone, they cut us down,” Breezer said. “We stay here, we're toast.”
“Something will happen,” Jack said. “I'll make something happen. See the truth in what I say. It's what you do, so see it!”
Breezer sighed, eyelids drooping. “I see that you want it to be the truth,” he said. “You're a good kid, Jack.”
“So don't just sit down and die!” Jack said. “You've already spread the word to get as many as you can to Heron Tower. So now go back there and take them west.”
“And then?” Breezer asked.
“One way or another, we'll march out of London. And if we have to fight our way out, so be it. Better than just waiting for the bomb.”
Breezer sighed, nodded. He seemed relieved to have had the weight of decision taken from his own shoulders.
“Good luck,” Breezer said. He shook Jack's hand. “You and your friends…you're pretty amazing. I'll see you in the west. We'll wait somewhere near Chiswick.”
“I'll find you.”
As Breezer left, Jack eased himself down against a metal cabinet and sighed. He was exhausted, and the universe inside seemed to be thrumming with expectation. The whole of his world knew that something momentous and terrible was about to occur.
“So now what?” Sparky asked at last. “It's a mess. We're lost.”