In the distance, he heard a noise, as if someone had stepped on loose rocks. He called, “Is someone there?”

But there was no reply, just the stink of the dead Freaks at his feet.

Thimble came up beside him and put her hand in his, fingers twining, and it was sweeter, more arousing, than the tangle of limbs with someone else. It was crazy how much pleasure he took from her small palm, warm against his skin. He wanted to drag her into his arms and bury his face in her hair. She had become his whole world.

“Did you hear it?” he asked.

Gravely, she nodded. “There’s something following us.”

Dread spiked through him, but they could do nothing but move on. Hope had driven them this far; endurance had to do the rest.

On the sixth day since they’d fled the doomed enclave, Thimble stumbled. He didn’t let her fall. Even in the dark, he always knew right where she was and he watched over her with the same care he’d given the brats in his charge. But Stone knew it wasn’t the same thing. Not at all. The things he felt for her were bigger, deeper, and they filled him up until his chest hurt, and it was hard to breathe.

“Tired?” he asked. They’d worked out a code. That was what he said when he wanted to know how her foot felt.

“We should start looking for a place to hide.” And that was how she replied when she hurt so bad she could cry from it, only she was too strong and proud, and he wanted to take her on his back, walk for her if need be.

But while she’d permit certain assistance, like him carrying her bag, she wouldn’t accept that much help. Stone knew she didn’t want to feel like a burden on him, but it was so obviously the other way around. She had all the brains. Without her planning, they’d have died days before.

Besides, even if she’d agreed, he couldn’t have. Not with two packs on his back, his weapon, and Boy23. There were limits to what he could manage. But that thought gave him an idea.

“Why don’t you take the weapon? It can double as a walking stick.”

“Thank you.” She accepted it gratefully, which told him just how much she hurt.

“I’ll keep an eye out for shelter,” he went on, changing the subject.

He wanted to tell her so much more.

This time, he found more than a door. Half the wall had tumbled down, here, and the stone looked older behind it. The floor slanted down. That seemed better than going Topside, where the light set you on fire, and the water burned the skin from your flesh. Kneeling, he ran his fingers over the seams. Men had pieced these rocks together. It wasn’t natural. That much, he knew.

“It smells clean.” Thimble stepped up beside him, cocking her head to test the air.

“I think we should see where it leads.” Shoulders hunched, he waited for her to mock him, like everyone did when he dared to express a thought.

But he’d misjudged her. Just as he’d never made fun of her foot, she never acted like he was stupid, good only for one thing. “I agree.”

“Hopefully we’ll find a safe place to rest. Let me go first.”

Thimble didn’t argue; she just fell in behind him, but he heard the way her foot dragged in cadence with the clack of the pole on the ground. Now it must hurt too much for her to lift. Step, slide. Step, slide. Her fortitude and bravery made him so proud to be here with her. When everything fell apart, she’d come in search of him. And it meant everything.

The air in this narrower tunnel smelled damp, which meant they should find water soon. Good thing. Their bottles were almost empty. He’d heard of enclaves where they recycled bodily fluids during tough times, but things had never gotten so bad at College, through careful management of resources and population control. His throat burned; as a male Breeder, it was his role to go without. Boy23 came first, and then Thimble. He’d barely taken a drink all day.

It was darker, too. Sometimes, in the bigger tunnels, the stones cracked overhead, permitting trickles of light. On the way here they had passed several great metal beasts turned onto their sides. The ground was littered with metal lines, some broken and twisted. But here, it was different. Newer. Cleaner. He made out shapes, the walls around him. He heard movement. Meat, skittering. The Hunters had brought these animals back in bags to be turned into hearty stew or roasted on a spit. Soon, the food would run out, and that would become his job as well. He wasn’t worried. Thimble would come up with the best way to catch the creatures.

Further down the passage, the wall crumbled inward. A cool breeze wafted against his face, and he reached out to find the gap. She had said fresh air meant good things, so they should probably check this area out. He stepped forward into darkness and something crunched beneath his feet. In the gloom, he couldn’t make out what he was stepping on, so he turned to Thimble.

“Do you have any torches left?”

“I’ll light one.”

He paused while she rummaged in the bag he carried for her and then the light flared, illuminating the floor before him. At first he didn’t understand what he saw, what the white glimmers represented. Behind him, Thimble sucked in a sharp breath, and her fingers laced through his. He drew her up close, one arm around her shoulders. On his other side Boy23 stared, though it was hard to tell how much the brat understood.

“What is this place?”

“I don’t know,” she answered.

Thimble knelt to examine the bones and then glanced up at him. “They’re smooth.”

“Which means they haven’t been chewed on.” A bright smile said she was pleased with him. It was the first time he could remember being praised for something other than his strength. “So

they weren’t killed by Freaks?”

“I don’t think so. They just look like they’ve been dumped here.” No respect in the handling, either. The bones lay in piles, as if bodies had been stacked.

“Remember how the Wordkeeper was always talking about the disease that killed so many people Topside and how our people went down below because it was safer?”

So many stories, it was impossible to know what was true. There had been legends that seemed very unlikely, and yet obviously something had left the world in a terrible state. These people hadn’t died of violence, which left disease. That much of the Wordkeeper’s lore had been true then.

She nodded. “I wonder if they just sealed up the bodies like this, out of sight.”

A cold chill went through him “Maybe. But this isn’t how they came in.”

Thimble followed his gaze toward the far side of the room, where crumbling stone stairs led up.

Chapter 11

They had more than Freaks to worry about now. Pretending a confidence she didn’t feel, Thimble picked a careful path across the dead. The bones rattled and scraped, sometimes crunched, and she held a scream deep within her throat. Only Stone’s solid presence at her back kept her from panicking. The torch wavered as she walked, throwing terrible shadows on the stained walls.

To make matters worse, as she approached the far wall—this one intact—she saw faint red-brown letters smeared onto the pale surface. Most were too faded for their meaning to be clear, but two phrases had been dug into the rock with someone’s bloody fingers: first, save me, and then, lower down, running toward the floor as if in desperation, god has forsaken us. The truth registered at once. They weren’t all dead when they locked them in here. She could imagine few fates more horrible than to die in confinement, beyond all hope.

“This was some kind of

plague ward,” she said then.

“Where they sent people to die. No hope. No food and water.” Stone closed his eyes for a long moment, visibly controlling his reaction to the room where they stood. “Maybe the enclave wasn’t so bad after all.”

Thimble moved away from the awful artifact of the wall, toward the stairs. “It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, but it wasn’t perfect either.”

“Do you think we should?” By his expression in the flickering torchlight, he didn’t want to go Topside.

Neither did she.

She reasoned, “It’s not far up

and we came down a bit to get here.”

“So it might take us back where we were? Or on the same level.”

“I suspect it connects to a different set of tunnels. Maybe these are cleaner, and the Freaks haven’t found them. They tend to hunt near enclaves.”

“Do you know where we are?”

“Not really,” she admitted.

“Then we’re lost.”

She risked a half smile. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Consider us to be

exploring. I believe there’s something better out there.”

If we live long enough—endure long enough—to find it.

“Right.” But he smiled back, ready to follow where she led. There was an incredible, delightful power in it. She didn’t let herself think about the kiss.

Not here. Not now.

Later, when she had a safe moment in the dark, she’d relive it as she had done every time they stopped to rest. Each step hurt, but stopping wasn’t possible yet, so she found a place in her head where it receded. She’d told Stone that she needed to rest, but there would be no sleep surrounded by so many dead. Press on. We’ll find safety soon.

But it was an empty promise, one in which she could no longer completely believe. How could the two of them survive when the whole enclave was lost? Thimble didn’t permit her despair to show. When she reached the door, it was locked. Of course it was. And it must be barred from the outside or surely so many people would have broken it down with sheer weight. Unless they were so sick they lacked the power.

“Can you—” She started to ask, but a noise stole her voice.

It was the sound of footsteps, someone—or something—trying to be quiet. Maybe it’s a survivor,she thought, but fear made her heart beat a little faster. Then the noise died away for a few seconds. Resumed in the scattering of some rocks.

“Do we stay here to wait for it to find us or press on?” Stone asked.

Thimble shivered. “Do you want to fight in a room full of bones?”

“It would be hard to get my footing.”

“Then let’s go.”

He nodded. “Take Boy23 and move down the stairs. Give me some room.”

Because he never questioned her ideas, she paid him the same courtesy. Torch in hand, she sat and scooted down four steps and stayed on her backside, permitting her foot that much rest. The brat came to her with a pleased jumble of sounds, ahs and oohs that didn’t mean anything. Stone swung his weapon wide, slamming the haft against the rusty door handle. His brute strength showed in each blow; the metal jiggled, and then bent. On the sixth strike, the knob snapped off and bounced away, down into the shadows and skeletal remains.

He crouched to peer through the hole. “There’s a bar across the way, but it smells rotten. I think I can break it.”

Without waiting for her response, he thrust the piercing tip of the weapon through the hole where the handle used to be. She heard a soft pop, and then he thumped his shoulder into the door. She winced with each impact; it must hurt him, but he didn’t falter. Once, twice, and on the third try, it shoved open with a loud squeak.

“We’re free.” Well, maybe not entirely, but he deserved that unqualified praise. “Shall we go see what lies above?”

“Has to be better than that.” He cast a glance behind him, and she knew exactly what he meant.

“And Freaks trying to eat us. Do you think I should put out the torch?”

To her surprise, he ducked and kissed her lightly on the mouth. She stared up at him in bewilderment. “Why did you do that? It’s

not an answer.”

“Did you like it?”

“That’s a different question.”

“Answer mine, and then I’ll answer yours.”

A hot flush washed into her cheeks, and in the light, he would see it. Thimble mustered her courage and whispered, “Yes. I’ve wanted that for ages.”