In The Afterlight
Liam threw his hands up in exasperation.
Chubs only shrugged. “Better than Grannie. And, for the record, Chubs.”
“Not Nico,” I cut in. He couldn’t be trusted to use his judgment around Clancy, and I couldn’t be trusted not to make him pay if he slipped again.
I saw Nico disappear from the edge of my vision, fading to the back of the group. Liam’s hand tightened around mine, but I refused to glance up and meet what I knew was a look of disappointment. He didn’t understand.
“Fine,” Cole said, “Nico, you’ll go with Team D.”
“Am I the guest?” I hadn’t realized Senator Cruz was in the room until she spoke up.
“You’re with Team C. Team A has our less-welcome guest.”
He must have informed her of Clancy’s presence, because her only response to that was a soft “Oh. I see.”
He ran through the details of each route the teams would be taking upstate. All involved sticking to surface streets, which added on hours and wasted gas, but ensured a safer trip. There was a single moment of silence after he finished speaking, as if everyone needed a moment to absorb his words.
Cole pointed at me. “Go grab him.”
“Once you have your group,” he continued as I exited the room, “go, get the hell out of here. Good luck and take care of each other. We’ll see you up north.”
Clancy struggled to his feet as I entered the room, his hands bound, his head still tucked inside the pillowcase. “We’re going now? What time is it?”
I pulled it off him for the moment. “Any sign of you messing with anyone—”
“—and I’m dead. God, you’re as annoying as my old nanny. I understand,” Clancy snapped. He turned around and nudged me with his bound hands. “This is going to be just as suspicious as the hood. If something happens, I might need to use my hands—”
“Nothing is going to happen,” I said, hooking my hand around his arm and drawing him out into the hallway, then back into the room to avoid being trampled, as the different teams ran to the building’s different exits.
“Ready?” Cole called to me from the window as I pulled Clancy into the room. Anabel Cruz was still standing there, huddled between the two agents that were responsible for her. At the sight of Clancy she froze. He smirked, taking her in from head to toe.
“Enough,” I said. “Leave her alone or I’ll push you out of the window.”
“I’d like to request that honor,” Liam said as he helped me up next. He glanced back toward Sen, and shot me a questioning look as the woman adjusted the straps of the backpack containing the cure research.
I put a reassuring hand on his arm, then turned back, gripping Clancy’s shoulder to steady him as he swung his leg up over the frame. His shoe caught on something and he went tumbling out of my hands, landing headfirst on the fire escape in a disgruntled heap.
“I see I’ll be afforded no dignity in this,” he growled as he straightened up, awkwardly trying to adjust his shirt with his hands bound.
I leaned over the steps, tracking Cole’s progress. He was already back on solid ground, a gun in his hands, surveying the nearby windows with a look of focused intensity I’d seen on Liam’s face so many times. The wind was tearing at his hair, making his jacket billow out around him. It blew me forward a step.
“As far as Stewarts are concerned, he’s probably the better choice. Handsome. The bad boy. Seems more your taste,” Clancy reasoned, following my gaze.
Clearly he didn’t understand my taste at all.
I didn’t let myself look back to check on Vida, Chubs, and Liam until we were down on the street too, our backs pressed to the building.
“Anything?” I asked Cole.
He shook his head. “All clear.”
We headed one block east to walk along the railroad tracks lining the Los Angeles River. Our exit was approximately thirteen blocks north, but those would be thirteen dark, silent, and tense blocks. Already, I felt a shiver of anxiety run down my spine as I looked back, but it was too dark to see the group of kids trailing behind us. Cole had warned them to wait ten minutes before following us through the exit, just on the off chance that something went wrong and they’d need the buffer of distance to run.
Nice for them.
I kept my gaze ahead and my grip on Clancy’s arm firm. His skin felt unbearably warm against my hand. The morning had the city in a chilly grip without the sun there to burn it away, but it was like none of it touched him. Like nothing could.
Cole’s hand shot up as he halted us in place with a sharp intake of breath. Clancy, curious, leaned in over my shoulder to see what the issue was.
“Ah,” he said, moving away. “Good luck with this one.”
Our route took us under the 101 freeway, where it formed a bridge over the Los Angeles River and nearby rail tracks. From what I’d seen in the soldier’s memories, the army had blocked off the tracks below with overturned train cargo cars and floodlights. On the freeway, there’d been two Humvees and more lights, pointing in toward us. And there they were—I counted them as we made our careful, silent approach. I didn’t see the problem at all. Not until the first of three shadowy figures appeared on the ledge of the freeway’s elevated road. Their arms were raised in a way that made me think they must have been peering through binoculars.
Cole dropped to his stomach on the tracks. I forced Clancy down with me. Chubs began to ask, “What’s going on—?” but someone—Vida—muffled him.