“I have to see!” He had to know it was true, because he could already picture the shop gone—obliterated by fire. Nothing left inside. Nate’s hands ached, gone cold in the rain that spat down at them listlessly.
“Then I’ll go with you. Sparks, Brick—keep Pixel safe,” he said. “Keep moving. We’ll meet up at sunset. In that alley behind the gull-catcher’s place.”
Pixel wrestled Brick’s grip, reaching for Nate. “No! We have to stay together.”
“Pix, you gotta stay with the girls.” Nate let her scrabble her small hands at him. “Let us go check on Alden, and we’ll find you when we’re done.” He caught one of her frantic hands and lowered his voice. “Look how scared Brick is. You have to keep her safe.”
Brick glared, and Sparks snorted.
“She needs you to take care of her,” Nate said.
Pixel laughed softly, until the laugh became a dry sob. “What if the Breakers catch you?” Tears welled up and spilled down her face.
A shiver ran through Nate. The Breakerswouldcatch them if they didn’t hole up soon.
“They can’t catch us.” Reed crouched at Pixel’s side, rubbing her back. He looked up at Nate. “We’re alley cats, remember? We’re quick and smart, and we stick together, no matter what.”
Nate swallowed, wondering if he was imagining something pointed about Reed’s gaze.
“What do we do with this one if she wakes up?” Brick asked, hefting Juniper up.
Pixel scowled. “Don’t let her poke me with anything.”
“Tie her up if you have to,” Reed said.
“Gently,” Nate added. He shuffled one step, then another, as if blown by a strong wind.
None of them fussed with goodbyes. The girls dodged into an alley, finding the shadowed places beneath dripping fire escapes.
“Can you run?” Reed asked.
“I think so.”
They took off. The cool air whipped at Nate’s face, tickled where the rain wet his hair. He was sore inside and out. Raw. He breathed raggedly. Every footfall sent aftershocks of pain through his shoulder.
None of it bothered him. Even with Reed beside him, all he could think about was what they were running toward and how much his mind screamed at him to run away from it.
He didn’t want to see Alden’s bones. Fran’s. Both of them cooked to nothing in the only home they’d ever known.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Thick clouds grazed the tallest buildings in the Withers. Smog-tainted rain fell in heavy torrents, bitter on Nate’s lips. It seared the cuts on his wrists. His footsteps splashed, and his clothes stuck to his body, weighing him down as he ran toward an anemic column of smoke and steam where Alden’s shop was.
Reed raced beside him, his blood-soaked shirt slowly going pink as the rain washed it. He reached for Nate’s hand, and Nate shook it off. He had to concentrate. One foot after the other. If anything distracted him, he’d fall, and that would be it. He’d be done. Empty. He wouldn’t be able to take another step. He wouldn’t be able to look.
They turned the corner, and he stumbled to a stop. He’d known for a few blocks what he’d see. That much smoke didn’t come from a bin-fire. But the wreck of Alden’s shop stole his breath, chilled him to the bone.
The windows were gone, and the inside of the shop gaped at them like a toothless maw. Charred. Wisps of smoke rising from the ashes of Alden’s things.
A single wind chime hung from the door, which had been torn off its hinges.
“Nate,” Reed said.
A low growl escaped from Nate’s chest. A warning.
Don’t say anything. This is my fault.
They’d never have set their sights on Alden if it weren’t for him.
