My brain buzzes. Am I sliding into a dream or coming out of one? Strong arms carry me. My head rests against a warm chest. For once, I actually feel safe.
My eyes open. Blackness and bright stars high above. Bishop is carrying me.
“She’s awake.” Spingate’s voice. “Em, can you stand?”
“I’m not sure. Let me try.”
Bishop sets me down. The moment I put weight on my right foot, my calf sparks with agony. He bends to pick me up again.
“No, I can make it on my own.”
He looks doubtful, concerned, but he takes a step back.
Farrar hands me my spear. I lean on it, take a few painful steps. Not the best solution, but it will do for now.
Towering ziggurats rise up all around us. Shadow drapes everything, resistant to light from the double moons. Up ahead, there is a glow coming from behind a thick, curving wall of vines. We’re back at the shuttle.
My leg hurts. My calf is wrapped in a purple bandage that must have come from Spingate’s medical kit. Spots of blood look black.
“Did the spider poison me?”
Spingate shakes her head. “It doesn’t look like a bite or a puncture wound. I think you tore it on a sharp rock.”
I not only banged my head against the tunnel entrance, I hurt my leg on it as well? I thought the spider was right on top of me…in my desperation to escape, I must have flailed about too much, caught my calf on a jagged edge.
The fear of that moment comes rushing back. My body starts to shiver. Spingate holds me tight.
“You made it through,” she says, gently stroking my hair. “That’s all that matters.” She lets me go, rubs my back as she guides me down the street. “We’re almost there. Smith is waiting to look at you and Bishop both.”
Bishop has purple bandages wrapped around one shoulder. The other shoulder is tied with strips of blood-streaked white cloth.
I realize that most of Spingate’s shirt is gone, shredded into strips. The fabric that remains barely covers her breasts.
“We ran out of bandages,” she says. “Bishop insisted I use what I had on you first. I improvised for his wounds.”
We climb up the wall of vines. Coyotl stays close to me, helping me when I stumble. I feel weak. Weak and dizzy.
At the top, I pause, look out at our shuttle. Lights on the tail, the wing tips, the top, all gleaming in welcome.
We made it.
Coyotl helps me descend the ring of vines. I’m almost to the bottom when I freeze, that now all-too-familiar blast of paralyzing fear driving straight through me—two Grownups, sprinting toward us.
“It’s all right,” Coyotl says. “That’s Visca and Bawden.”
As soon as he says that, I see it. Visca and Bawden, yes, but dressed all in black. The coveralls in the storeroom. My pulse is racing. I can barely see straight. I need to lie down.
The two circle-stars sprint to the top of the vine ring, scouting for danger in case we were followed here. The rest of us shuffle to the shuttle.
Farrar, Spingate and Coyotl start up the ramp. Bishop stops at the base. So do I.
Spingate turns. She’s beyond exhausted.
“Em, come on—you need to see Smith.”
“In a minute,” I say. “Just go.”
She doesn’t need to be told twice. She drags herself through the door.
Bawden and Visca return. I send them into the shuttle, leaving Bishop and me alone once again.
He can barely meet my eyes—he’s ashamed. At the hole in the wall, he panicked and he knows it. He wanted to protect me, but I sent him into the tunnel first, exposing myself to danger so he could get away.
He tilts his head toward the shuttle door. He wants me to go inside. He needs to be the last one out here.
“Bishop, we should talk about what happened at the waterfall.”
“What happened is we were stupid,” he says. “We were selfish, only worrying about ourselves. People could have been hurt.”
As if I didn’t feel guilty enough about that already.
In at least one way, Bishop and I are the same: we have a need, an urge to protect everyone. I don’t understand why sometimes I can’t think straight when I’m around him—or O’Malley, for that matter. What I do know is that my selfish actions almost got our friends killed.
I glance up at the shuttle, out to the vine ring—no one else is here. I reach out and take his hand.
“We just have to be smarter,” I say. I think about him kissing me. I want him to do it again. “We won’t do anything like that around other people.”
He stares at our hands for a moment, fingers intertwined. He gives me one short, firm squeeze, then pulls away.
“We won’t do anything like that, period,” he says. “We’re fighting to keep everyone alive, Em. I can’t lose sight of that, not even for a second.”
When we kissed, there was this look in his eyes—he couldn’t get enough of me. That look is gone. I feel like everything is ruined.
I trudge up the ramp.