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  “I know.”

  “Are we?”

  I wondered the same myself. “We’re safe,” I say with more confidence than I feel.

  Enid pulls in a breath and steps back, stiffening. A small group of natives gives our group a fleeting, curious look as they pass along toward another table. What are they thinking? Are they watching us for Willow? Enid notices as well and takes my hand, pulling me away from the crowd.

  “I don’t trust them,” Enid says, keeping her voice low despite the closed door. “I mean, how do we know this is even real? What’s saying this isn’t a Paragon simulation?”

  “I wondered that myself. But I feel like this is too much. All the people and everyday life moving around us. It’s just…it’s too intricate to be another simulation.” Isn’t it? I smile, hoping to convince her even though I’m not even close to believing it myself.

  Enid frowns but nods in agreement. She glances at our hands then lets go, stuffing her own in her pockets, then says, “And the whole transportation thing…I find it hard to accept that it was a simulation. But Paragon has so much tech we don’t even know about.”

  “What’s the last thing you remember before waking up here?” I ask, sitting on one of the table chairs.

  Enid glances around the common room anxiously and keeps her voice low. “We all crammed into the back of the truck at Lettuce Eat and it started rumbling down the road. I noticed people started falling asleep, and when I looked at you, you told me that something wasn’t right.”

  I don’t remember any of this. How can I have a conversation with her that I don’t even remember?

  “Then you pointed at the vent and we saw the gas pumping into the truck, but you were groggy already.” Enid shifts, hugging her arms tight over her chest. “I tried to use my Power to stop it, but by then it was too late. There was too much in the back of the truck and just about everyone else was already out.” Her eyes shimmer with tears. “I’m sorry. I tried. I really did.”

  I rest a hand on her shoulder, offering reassurance. “It isn’t your fault. I don’t think any of us could have stopped it.”

  Enid’s gaze falls to my hand and she gives a small nod. “Why are we here, Ugene?”

  I shake my head. No good answer comes to mind. “Because of my mom, I assume. I mean, she must have known when she gave me that address that Harvey would put us on that truck. And I have to believe she knew that truck would bring us here. Though I suppose that doesn’t really answer the why.”

  I turn back toward our friends, then hesitate, glancing at her over my shoulder. “Did Willow say anything to you about a spy in our group?”

  Enid shakes her head. “A spy for who? We don’t have contact with many people.”

  I can trust Enid. I have trusted Enid. “Willow said they know one of us is a spy for either Paragon or the Directorate, and she was wondering if we would have any clues as to who.”

  Enid scowls. “Sounds like a ploy to cause division between us, if you ask me.”

  “Yeah.” But I don’t know that I agree. If the Protectorate is really after information, and the Directorate is after them, it would make sense to insert a spy, and using a group as big as ours, it would be easy to pull off.

  “You believe her,” Enid says.

  I don’t want to admit it to her, but I nod.

  “Ugene, Paragon used the same tactics to keep us from banding together because they knew it would make us dangerous. Why would this group be any different?”

  “I agree…to some extent. But think about it, Enid. If you wanted to find out where a group of underground resistance fighters was hiding, don’t you think a group like ours would be the easiest way to do it? Dr. Cass knew we were trying to escape. She could have easily inserted someone into our massive group in case we succeeded.”

  “No.” Enid’s back stiffens. “Because she couldn’t have known we would end up here.”

  “Why not?” I wave a hand around us. “Where else would we go? They knew that the Protectorate was somehow gathering up people with weak Powers. Our group is a huge, obvious target.”

  Enid resists at first, but I can see that she starts to accept my explanation. “So, what’s our play here?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” I admit. My plan was to get us out, which I did. Beyond that, I have no idea. “But I’ll figure it out.”

  Enid nods as if she already knew as much. Her faith in me is unwavering. I only hope I don’t let her down.

  We rejoin the others.

  When I get back to the table, Madison is staring at Miller, anxiety twisting her forehead in knots. Miller picks at his pancakes carelessly, and I watch as he pulls one of them to pieces but doesn’t eat a bite.

  Unfiltered chatter makes this common room livelier than the one at Paragon ever was. People talk and laugh at their tables, say hi as they pass one another, and come and go freely.

  The illusion of freedom offers some comfort as I finish my meal and sit back on the bench, watching.

  At Paragon, everyone appeared rundown, often an inch from death. Few people talked, and no one just walked around the room to meet with different people. They came in, ate their meals, and left. But this place, it’s almost…peaceful.

  After everything I’ve been through and losing Dad, Bianca, Celeste, and Mo—along with so many others I didn’t really know—I don’t think peace is anything but fleeting. We may have escaped Paragon, but this is far from over. When I led these people out of Paragon, I started a fight we can’t possibly win. Especially if the Directorate has a part, as Willow suggested.

  How many more will I lose before the end? I glance around the table at my friends: Madison, Enid, Sho, Boyd, Leo, Miller…I can’t handle losing any of them like I lost Bianca.

  Bianca. Her last words to me weren’t poetic. They didn’t offer any sort of closure. She simply kissed me and told me to go. And I did. I left her body there on the floor of the Paragon lobby and fled. I’m not a leader or a legend. That makes me a coward, doesn’t it?

  And Celeste. I still don’t understand what happened to her. One moment she was standing in the lobby with the few of us who remained. The next, she was bursting with blinding cosmic light, destroying everything in its path. Burning the Somatic Bianca had been fighting right out of his shoes as if he didn’t exist. But when the light faded, Celeste was gone. As if she had never been. To what end? Did she burn herself up? Was she still there in Paragon somewhere? It feels more like a sacrifice on Celeste’s part than any sort of salvation.

  Did I actually help anyone by leading the escape from Paragon, or just lead a bunch of new people to an early death?

  “Ugene?” Boyd’s voice calls me back from my misery. “Y-you o-okay?”

  I blink and focus on his face across the table behind a large stack of pancakes. Tears slip out and roll down my cheeks. I quickly brush them away and suck in a shuddering breath, smiling as a trickle of relief at seeing his face washes through me. “Yeah. Fine.”

  Why do I keep telling lies?

  “Tears of j-joy, then?” Boyd asks, his deadpan tone making it obvious that he doesn’t believe me. “C-c-come on. T-talk to us. After ev-everything we’ve been thr-through…”

  “I’ll be fine,” I say. “It comes and goes. Not a big deal.” Nothing would interest me less than talking about my feelings.

  The Protectorate people drift out of the room. Miller snoozes beside me, alternately snoring softly and shifting restlessly in his seat. He’s hardly eaten more than half a pancake.

  Madison raises her brows impatiently at me, and I wonder why. Did I miss something?

  What? I try sending the question out with my mind.

  We need to talk about Miller, Madison says, watching him snooze. I’m worried about what’s going on in there. It’s distracting.

  I know, I think. It’s a side effect of losing his Powers.

  No. Madison’s lips compress. It’s inexplicable. His mind is both racing and completely empty at the same time. Like there a
re two different parts of him. One that’s running like a hamster caught in a wheel, and the other that’s just sort of…dead.

  He’s going to be fine, I say, though I don’t really feel as confident in my words as I should be. Obviously, he isn’t dead.

  But he wants to be. The despair on Madison’s face makes me tense.

  Is Miller really so bad off? It’s my fault. He would still have his Powers if those security guards hadn’t shot at me.

  He needs help. Sooner than later. Madison adds the last with pressing emphasis.

  I nod stiffly, glancing at Miller as he snoozes. I want to understand, but I don’t. Not really. Being Powerless sucks, but it isn’t the end of his life. I should be proof enough of that.

  A Somatic I recognize from Paragon approaches with a blonde girl holding his hand, distracting me from the conversation with Madison. He was the one who carried Miller out of the building and saved him.

  “Glad to see your face,” the Somatic says to me as he reaches the table. Sadly, I don’t even know his name.

  “Noah was one of the first out,” Sho offers.

  Noah. I open my mouth to thank him for helping us when we escaped, but before I can say anything more, Willow marches into the room.

  8

  Only those who escaped Paragon remain in the common room. We all shuffle closer to Willow as conversations die down. Enid shifts toward me. Everyone has turned attention to Willow. The way that woman commands their attention makes my skin crawl.

  “I know you have all been through a horrific ordeal, and you survived it by sticking together,” Willow says. “I admire your determination and courage. What you’ve managed is no easy task. With that said, I understand why some of you are hesitant to trust us,” she glances toward Enid and me for a second, “and I want to apologize for how long it took to get some of you through the intake process.”

  Enid and I both grunt, which catches Chase’s attention beside Willow. Enid shrinks back, but I don’t. He’s a musclebound bully, just like any other. I’ve had enough of being intimidated by people like him.

  “The Shield has a noble purpose,” Willow continues. “We protect those the Directorate and Paragon have targeted. We rescue those the Directorate has turned out of Elpis under the guise of the Consumption Tax, people whom the Directorate believes are useless to the future of the city. We gather. We grow. And we fight back.”

  A few people in the gathering shift or nod, murmuring their agreement. Is she really inspiring them? Are they really falling for this? I don’t like it. Something about the whole thing feels…off. I almost want to believe her.

  Miller snorts loudly in his sleep and I elbow his side. He opens his eyes, staring at me through tired, empty blue irises. Hearing Willow’s voice makes him sit a little more upright, but he still slouches low like he doesn’t care. He probably doesn’t.

  “To do this, we work together, as a community,” Willow says, causing the murmurs to fall silent. “We respect each other and our common purpose. Everyone is encouraged to find their own way to contribute to life in The Shield. And anyone who wants to help fight the Directorate and Paragon is welcome.”

  These people aren’t soldiers. Even if they want to fight back, we don’t have the collective strength to do it. Not against the Directorate. Fighting out of Paragon was one thing. What she is asking is something else completely. Willow’s subtle manipulation to encourage voluntary recruitment will get some of these people in trouble. We came here to be safe.

  I won’t let Willow use these people.

  “What exactly is this group doing to fight against the Directorate?” I ask, making sure I get the attention of not just Willow, but everyone in the room. They all followed me out of Paragon, so if they want me to lead, I will.

  Willow turns on her heel and her ponytail swings like a pendulum behind her head. “Are you interested in joining the Protectorate, Ugene?”

  “I’m interested in transparency,” I say, crossing my arms. “We’ve been manipulated long enough.”

  Chase subtly moves his position halfway between Willow and me, just at the edge of our direct line of sight. The guy is a beast, and he could probably crush me without breaking a sweat, but he won’t. He’s nothing more than a dog obeying his master’s commands.

  “Says the man using information stolen from Paragon as a bargaining chip,” Willow says.

  Only a few of us knew about the drive, and Willow’s announcement creates a stir of confusion and curiosity from the others. No point in denying it.

  “You’re right,” I say. “We struggled to escape that nightmare. We fought side by side against the worst odds, far beyond anything you could imagine. We lost more than sixty percent of the people who started the journey with us. All to save ourselves and get that information out of Paragon. Why are we here, Willow?” I cross my arms.

  “Because Paragon is looking for you,” Willow says. “The only way you can be safely away from their grasp is here, underground with us. Because we all need each other to prove the Directorate is wrong.”

  I won’t let Willow use us, or that drive, as a manipulation device to force a wedge between our group. “You want to know what’s on that drive?” I ask, more for the benefit of the others than for Willow. “We have video evidence against Paragon. Proof that they have not only been conducting unethical experiments on test subjects but that some of those experiments have resulted in deaths they have covered up. And there’s a chance we could have downloaded the formulas from those experiments, but the data is encrypted.”

  My announcement gains a wave of alarmed responses from yelps, gasps, and wide eyes to heads shaking in denial. Madison and Noah adopt expressions of horror. The blonde girl beside Noah clings to his arm. She now realizes what a few of us already knew. Any one of us could have been next in those experiments.

  “That’s why my friends and I worked so hard to save everyone,” I say. The full steam of my confidence and anger propels me forward. “So, tell me something, Willow. Besides rescuing the helpless from the Deadlands, what are you doing to fight back? What secret missions are you running that would risk the lives of people who aren’t strong enough to stand up against the Directorate? How are you any better than them?”

  “Wars are won through action, not inaction,” Willow says.

  “We aren’t soldiers. We won’t fight a war for you,” I say. “Enough people have died.”

  The tension in the room is thick.

  I cock my head to the side at Willow’s silence. Time to move in for the kill before she has a chance to recover. “Tell us honestly, Willow. If you didn’t need one of us, would you turn us back in to Paragon?”

  Willow’s eyes shoot wide open. “What?”

  I take a confident step forward. “You need something from us, but once you have it, if it kept the Directorate off your back, would you turn us back in to Paragon?”

  “We don’t give them people,” Willow says, perching white-knuckled fists on her hips. “We save people from them. It would go against everything we have worked for to turn anyone over. Everyone is valuable to us. The Directorate has been seeking us out for years and hasn’t found us yet. I don’t expect that to change any time soon… Do you?”

  “I will do everything within my meager Powerless power to protect every person that came out of that building with me,” I say. “We lost enough already. No one else will die for your cause.”

  Willow stalks toward me, one cat-like step at a time, like a lioness hunting her prey. “What do you think is happening out there right now, Ugene? While you worry about Paragon and Dr. Cass, Directorate Chief Seaduss prepares something bigger. Who do you think pushed for the Consumption Tax that targets the more impoverished neighborhoods like Pax? Who do you think is ordering the DMA to double and triple sweeps of offenders? Do you even know what’s going on in Pax? Mothers starve to death so their children can eat. Citizens turn to crime just to pay back-taxes or provide for their friends and family. The Directorate an
d Seaduss, they don’t care. They get rich and take advantage of the weak. If you think this isn’t a war, you have lived a sheltered life.”

  I grimace. No one breathes, as if the tension has drawn out all the oxygen. Everyone who escaped with me learned on the Metro that I grew up in Salas, one of the richest boroughs in the city. Does Willow know that? She must if she knows who my mom is. Every muscle in my body is coiled tight.

  Enid must sense it, because she slips her hands around my bicep, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

  Willow lets out a breath, and with it, her shoulders slump. “Ugene,” she says in a softer tone. “I recognize everything you’ve been through, everything you’ve suffered. Truly, I do. And you’ve all made it out, against all odds. But there are still people suffering, and if we don’t help them, no one will. It’s the curse of the leader burdened with knowledge to bear the responsibility of using that knowledge to liberate others. That is what we do here.”

  Everyone is watching me, waiting to see how I respond. I look at each of them, weighing their expressions, measuring their reactions. Some of them sag, weighed down by everything. Others sit up straighter, and I already know they will be among the first to volunteer to help the Protectorate. Noah among them. Maybe he thinks that since he’s a Strongarm he can make a difference.

  “Show me,” I say at last.

  Miller groans.

  Willow tilts her head to the side. “Show you?”

  “I want to see Pax,” I say, putting my shoulders back. “I want to walk the streets and see the people and witness all of this for myself.”

  “You just got here,” Willow says, her palms up and gaze fixed on me.

  “I’ve been here for days. I’m ready to see this truth for myself.” I slip off the bench and step closer to Willow, lowering my voice. “These people follow me. If you want us to help you, then you need to convince me. Show me.”

  Willow sputters for a moment, and as she does, a few of the others rise in a show of solidarity. Did they hear what I said? Noah and his blonde female friend, Leo, Madison, Rosie, a guy I only vaguely recognize. Soon, ten of us stand together out of the forty-two gathered. With each who joins me, I fight off a satisfied grin threatening to stretch across my face. Instead, I do my best to stare her down, remaining as stoic as possible. I feel taller than I have in a long time.