“Are you . . . alright?” I ask.
I can’t imagine how it must feel to have gunned down six people.
“I’m not sure,” Ezra concedes. “I think I’m dehydrated.”
Atlas promises he’ll return with water. He leaves in search of some. Ezra, in the meantime, rests his head against the crook of my neck. He sighs into me. His breath is hot against my skin. It means he’s alive. Ezra is alive.
“I didn’t think I’d see you two again,” he whispers.
“You found us. That’s what matters,” I say.
Atlas doesn’t return, but Ambrosia does. Several council members flank her from behind. Brett Rosenbaum isn’t amongst them. It’s safe to assume he perished in the attack. They look stern, unsure. Our predicament is a dangerous one I’m sure is weighing down heavily on everyone. I worry they’re not positive how to handle the situation.
“Ezra,” Ambrosia says kindly. “How’d you escape? What did you see out there?”
I’m suddenly defensive when I have no right to be, but Ezra’s been through a lot. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t object because this really can’t be avoided. He blows out a gust of air.
“Mafu saved me right as Angela attempted to siphon my power. He manipulated the metal of the vehicle, crushing them.”
“His prowess is unmatched,” chimes in a councilman.
“He mentioned hearing gunfire, then screaming. He came rushing into town and found me before it was too late. So many of Angela’s soldiers are dead, but I’m not sure what came of her. Mafu’s currently leading a resistance against those who remain with a group of Angelic stragglers. They’re putting up a good fight,” he says.
“They have their suits?” asks a councilwoman. Ezra nods. “That fire is going to continue spreading. If we can take control of the fight, we’ll see what our water-users can do about the flames.”
Ambrosia’s stone facade, once an impenetrable force, falters for the briefest of moments. Matt was a water-user. And a damn good one, too.
“When should we expect Esther’s reinforcements? And what of Leeanne’s crew? Where are they?” a guard says.
“Esther’s scrounging up who she can from Washington, Nevada, and Arizona. We’re stretched extremely thin. We’ve lost so much of our forces from the government retaliating and the local cartels, that managing enough reinforcements might be a longshot. It may not be enough,” someone says.
“We’ve radioed Leeanne. No word.”
“There’s one more thing,” Ezra interrupts. The group’s attention returns to him. “Angela mentioned an agreement with Senator Cornwallis. I think it’s safe to assume he promised the Barclay Network reinforcements. We need to act quickly in case they retaliate.”
“Would they intervene?” questions Atlas. I hadn’t realized he had returned.
“I’m not sure,” Ambrosia says. “I don’t believe Cornwallis would get directly involved if it could be avoided. I think he’d rather watch as we wipe each other out.”
“A fair assumption,” says the councilwoman.
For now, we’re on our own.
Cornwallis must’ve always known of our location—meaning, because of his greed, we no longer have protection. It appears he was willing to look the other way for the Barclay Network.
“If we rendezvous with the others, we can wipe out what’s left of Angela’s men,” Atlas says.
“I agree,” Ambrosia says, folding her arms. She turns to the room.
Other utterances of agreement echo in the bunker.
“Mafu and the others may not have much time. We must act quickly.”
“I’ll take every abled body I can,” Ambrosia instructs. “We’ll use the other passage out. Employ the element of surprise.”
In total, we rank ten Angelics strong. Better than nothing at all. We clad ourselves in the signature Angelic white, emblems gleaming on our chests. We turn down a passageway that stretches far into a bleak darkness. Lights flicker on the farther we go—our boots clack against the cement of the tunnel. We’re met by another ladder that climbs up to an inky blackness. LEDs buzz on and we ascend upwards.
Once we reach the top, a hazy sunlight drapes over us. It’s hot, but the inferno tearing the landscape down burns hotter. Smoke superimposes the environment. Tendrils rise into the air. Bursts of orange and yellow consume the evergreens and wildlife. Ahead is the unknown, but ahead is where we must go.
