“Two,” Yosef said.
“You’re on.”
Many minutes passed before they reached the entrance to Perileos, and Christian’s stomach sank to his knees. He’d never, ever wanted to see this place again.
“Governor Gallowood left ahead of us this morning to keep our arrival quiet,” Broadman began once they’d regrouped. “Those watching the entrance are people we know we can trust, but once we’re inside this city, if the Dissent catches wind that we’re here, it could lead to open season. So, keep your mouths shut and act normal. We meet at Gallowood House.”
The man tapped on his comm a few times, then Christian’s biochip signaled an incoming message: coordinates to Gallowood House.
“Any questions?” Broadman asked.
“No, sir,” the SARTF soldiers spoke in chorus.
“Good. Move out.”
Ahna turned to Christian, Hawk, and Imara and passed out sheathed daggers. “Keep at least one of these hidden on you at all times. We’ve seen some of these Dissenters fight, and they’re brutal. Don’t get caught by one of them without having an advantage.”
A memory of Colton facing off with Hawk in the boxing ring popped into Christian’s mind. To have beaten Hawk—who’d grown up “fighting” in a simulator—meant Colton had had serious training. Christian should’ve known then that something was off about the bastard.
Broadman’s team went into Perileos first. The clanging of the reinforced revarium steel door as it opened shot a shiver down Christian’s spine. Every time he’d left the city for a “hunt,” that noise had reminded him how dark his soul was becoming. Even now, the sound haunted his dreams.
Ahna, Claude, and Yosef continued to parry playful insults at one another while they awaited the signal to enter. Several minutes later, a guard waved them forward.
“Let’s go, fam!” Ahna announced, leading them inside.
The pungent smell of the underground city smacked into Christian’s face within seconds. Rank, chemical, and metallic. His nose scrunched, and he fought the urge to cover his face and gag. The door slammed closed behind them, sealing them inside, and a deep sense of dread shot his stomach to his knees.Stars, I hate this fucking place. The faster they found Nadine and dismantled the Dissent, the better.
Rust dripped from the network of beams and pipes crisscrossing the red stone corridor that led to the city. And the further below the surface they went, the more condensation coated the walls. Then several meters later, they stepped through a metal opening, and the monstrosity that was Perileos unfolded before Christian’s eyes once again.
From where he stood on the very edge of the city, high up on a ledge, it looked like a maze of revarium steel. Walls, roofs, floors—everything was metal, reinforced to keep the planet’s shifting stone from swallowing the city whole. Panels of white ultralights covered the city’s ceiling, imitating sunlight. Below them were forty-three zones and one hundred eighty-two sectors of strife and poverty.
“Well, this ought to be interesting,” Claude quipped.
“That’s an understatement,” Imara mumbled, speaking for the first time since they’d left Zion. Hawk squeezed her shoulder as Ahna led the six of them down the switchbacks to street level.
Given it was daylight hours, Christian wasn’t surprised to see the majority of the housing sectors empty. Work shifts lasted twelve hours, and if someone didn’t work, they didn’t eat. Even when he hadn’t been in the boxing ring or “training” with the Falaichte, he’d been in the mines. Just like everybody else in this starsforsaken place.
The few people they did pass gave their small group little attention. A pile of blackened garbage bags sat slumped in the corner of a stained wall, and a child darted past them, barefoot, disappearing into the dim corridors between flats.
Christian ground his teeth. He hated it here. Too many terrible memories.
“Okay, question,” Claude said. “If you could lose any of your senses, which would it be?”
“Hearing, so I wouldn’t have to listen to you two bangin’ every night,” Ahna replied without an ounce of hesitation.
The corner of Christian’s mouth rose in a smile. Hawk laughed, and Imara visibly relaxed, a massive grin on her face.
“You’re just jealous,” Claude said, winking at his team leader, who snorted in response.
The playful bickering continued as they maneuvered through the cramped alleys of the housing districts. Imara and Hawkbegan to gibe each other as well and join in the communal fun. To anyone else, their group appeared as nothing more than friends walking down the streets. But Ahna’s, Claude’s, and Yosef’s eyes never stopped roaming, years of soldiering reflected in their gazes. Christian could rest assured they’d never be caught unaware.
At last, they reached a tram stop to hop a ride to Sector 1. Gallowood House was located along the edge, just outside the city district. The tram shuddered as it started, its metal grinding like it resented moving at all. Christian gripped the overhead rail, his knuckles white in the dim light.
Sectors blurred past the grimy windows, and the deeper the tram drove toward the city’s belly, the more the walls brightened just enough to show the shift: less grime, more revarium steel. It was cleaner here, maybe. But not kinder. Nothing in Perileos was.
The tram hissed to a halt, and the moment Christian stepped out of the car, his jaw locked. It hadn’t been long since he’d last stepped foot in this part of Perileos. Yet its cultivated perfection still sent a chill down his spine. If only its inhabitants knew what really happened while they were asleep in their flats.
Christian fell into step with his team, their boots loud against the revarium steel floor as they maneuvered through housing blocks. The walls here were a lighter alloy and reinforced. The flats were more spaced apart and not stacked on top of each other. Some even had false window screens that played slow-moving sky simulations. Everything was exactly as he’d left it, except . . .
