Deviants (16 page)

Gage’s wounds started to bleed again after the climb. Remembering his deranged expression when he was breathing in dust, I run my hand over the filter that covers my mouth.

Burn reaches over to take off my mask. The air feels great on my face, cooling and comforting, evaporating sweat as the heat from the sun wanes. Without the dark plastic distorting the colors, the sky is even more spectacular. The soft yellow light it casts warms the tone of Burn’s skin and softens his hard edges.

He’s studying me, too, which makes me uncomfortable. Smoothing my hands over my hair, trapped by the mask all day, I focus on the sunset.

“They didn’t teach you about the stars or planets in school?” Burn asks.

“School?”

“GT.”

“Yes, but I never imagined anything like this.” They did teach us something about the planets and stars when they were explaining what made the dust come, but I’m beginning
to realize that much of what we learned was based on what Management wanted us to know, rather than the truth.

“Stars are balls of fire, millions of miles away.” Burn’s voice is deep but the gentlest I’ve heard it. “The sun is the closest star to earth, so it looks bigger. It heats our planet and provides light.”

“And the moon does that at night,” I say to show him I’m not quite as ignorant as he thinks.

He shakes his head. “The moon’s light comes from the sun. It’s just bouncing off.”

I furrow my brow but don’t question him. This doesn’t make sense, but even if Burn’s lying or making this up as he goes, he clearly knows more about Outside than I do.

“Was it a star that struck the earth? Is that how the planet caught on fire?”

He stretches out his long legs. “No. Asteroids. Lots of them. They’re more like huge rocks.”

“Then how did the fires start?”

“Volcanoes. Earthquakes.”

“Oh, right.” That’s what we learned in GT. “The asteroids hit so hard they shifted bits of the earth, right?”

He nods.

“Then the atmosphere filled with ash and dust, changing the climate, blocking air travel, jamming communications—then the dust fell.” This is what we learned, and Burn doesn’t correct me. “What was in the dust? Why did it change us?”

He shakes his head. “Don’t know. I’m not sure anyone does. Something came on the asteroids, I guess. Or out of the volcanoes…” It’s the first time I’ve heard him unsure. He
leans back. “Doesn’t matter.”

And he’s right. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like we can turn back time, take away the dust, and make the Shredders go away—make either of us a Normal.

“What’s happening to the sun?” It’s no longer round—it’s cut off at the bottom and the orange color has intensified.

“Don’t worry.” He leans and nudges me with his shoulder. “Nothing’s happening to it. We’re turning away from the sun for the night, that’s all.”

Once again I’m confused, but that doesn’t matter. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yes.” His voice is huskier than normal, and I look over to find him staring at me. When our eyes meet, he turns back to the sunset.

“Where’s my brother?”

He shifts, bends one of his legs, and grabs his shin as he turns to me. “There’s a door in the wall. We’ll go through it after dark.”

“And Drake’s on the other side?” My chest collapses under the fear of not knowing if he’s safe, under the guilt of not taking better care of him, under the shame that I’ve let anything but finding him invade my thoughts.

“Hector will keep him safe,” Burn says. “Don’t worry.”

My father’s name brings on more fear, but curiosity pushes it aside. “What’s it like on the other side of the wall?”

“Not that different than this, at first. But farther away there are fewer ruins, less dust.”

“Less dust?”

“The wall traps the dust. Holds it in close to Haven. It blows around in here and drifts up the wall.” He rubs his chin. “Some claim they bring more dust in on purpose, but I’ve never seen them do it.” He shrugs. “This is only the fourth time I’ve been aboveground in the hot zone.”

“The hot zone?”

“This Shredder-infested space around Haven.”

“How do the Shredders bring dust in?”

“Not the Shredders. Management.”

“But…” Implications flit through my mind like sparks from a bad electrical plug. Management purposefully brings in more dust? I have so many questions I don’t know which to ask first. “When we first saw Gage, it looked like the Comps were working with the Shredders.”

“They were.”

I was certain there’d be some other explanation. “But the Comps killed the Shredders.”

Burn grunts. “Yeah. Over chains.” He shakes his head. “Chains they used to slow Gage down to make it easier for the Shredders to catch him.” He laughs. “I wonder how much of Gage’s escape got caught on camera. Management will be pissed they didn’t get their show. They probably shut off the feed the second Gage ran, then told everyone that dust got into the camera.”

“So Management…”

“Likes having Shredders around the dome. Keeps you Haven people scared and compliant.”

“And the Shredders? Why are they so sadistic?”

“Too much dust.” His eyebrows rise. “Plus, they’re recruiting.”

He says this as if it’s obvious, and I’m not sure I can digest any more information right now. Everything Burn says sounds crazy if I take each piece on its own, but it’s starting to hang together into a consistent pattern. A pattern that shows how we’ve been lied to in Haven. Constantly.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

^L
IGHT AND SPARKS
rise from behind a long, low building close to the wall. Burn says it’s a Comp outpost for storing food and weapons, but Comps must not be stationed there tonight given all the Shredders. Shouts and screams pollute the night air and it’s hard to guess the exact number of monsters based only on shadows and occasional silhouettes. We climbed as high as we could, but still can’t see to the other side of the outpost, beyond which lies the Shredder camp, then a door through the wall.

With my mask at my side, one hand resting on its straps in case the wind picks up or we have to run, I shiver in my thin jacket. I was warm enough while we were moving—given the effort of walking quickly over the uneven and soft surface of the dust, not to mention climbing obstacles—but since we stopped, the night air has been biting through my clothing, chilling the light sweat I worked up on the run.

Burn looks toasty in his thick coat, not seeming to notice I’m cold. He did give one of his sweaters to Gage, and the garment hangs halfway down the thin man’s thighs as he leans against a partially intact ruin wall.

Gage turns. “How far to the next way out?”

“Don’t know,” Burn answers. “I don’t know for sure there
is
another way.”

“So we just wait until those Shredders leave?” I ask. A whole day has passed since we were separated, and Drake must be terrified.

“They don’t exactly look like they’re planning on leaving.” Gage pushes away from the wall, bends down, and whispers to Burn.

I jump up and move closer. For all I know, Gage is suggesting they offer me up as a sacrifice. I wouldn’t put agreeing past Burn. “What are you talking about?”

Gage looks at me and shrugs. “I was just saying that I’m fast and could run along the wall’s perimeter to look for another way out.”

“Too dangerous in the dark,” Burn says.

“Not with your goggles.” Gage points to the night-glasses Burn has pushed onto the top of his head.

Burn doesn’t reply, but his brow furrows in the moonlight and it’s clear he’s not going to give up those goggles for anything. He stands and walks to the edge of the raised platform.

“I’ll find out what we’re up against.” Burn leaps from the ruin, down fifteen feet to the dust.

I almost shout after him, but a loud voice might attract
the Shredders’ attention, putting Burn in even more danger, so all I can do is hope and wait. Keeping low and sticking to the shadows, he moves swiftly and soon I’ve lost sight of him.

“Will he be okay?” I ask Gage.

“Don’t know.” He leans against the partial wall again, and pulls a shaking hand under the cuff of the borrowed sweater. “He should have loaned me his goggles. Your boyfriend has trust issues.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” My cheeks heat. “And if you took the goggles, how do we know you’d come back?” That part of Burn I understand. If they were mine, I wouldn’t trust anyone else with them, either.

Gage shifts his position against the wall, then groans.

“You should sit down,” I tell him. “You’re obviously in pain.”

He turns toward me and his skin seems nearly transparent in the moonlight. “It’s not that bad, considering.”

I step closer. “Don’t try to be brave. I saw them cut you.”

“My cuts are healing, fast. Some of the small ones are already closed.” But he sits cross-legged on the concrete, leaning back, and I drop down a few feet away.

“Is healing part of your Deviance?”

He shakes his head.

“Then how—?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest.” Gage runs his fingers through his hair, making it stick up even worse. “From the little bits I got out of your boyfr—Burn—the dust helped me heal.”

“Really?”

“That’s what he claimed, while he was forcing my face
into it.”

I grip my dust mask. “What was it like”—I slide closer—“inhaling the dust?” I almost ask if he’s changing into a Shredder, but the question seems insensitive, intrusive. Plus I’m not sure I want to hear the answer.

Gage is quiet for what feels like several minutes, and I assume he isn’t going to answer, then he turns to me. “Breathing the dust was amazing. It was like inhaling pure energy. As if I’d been turned on like a light bulb.” He fumbles with his mask and stares down at the ground longingly. “I want more. It’s all I can think about.”

I stare at him, incredulous, fumbling over what to say. “But dust is lethal.” I regurgitate what I’ve been taught. “People choke to death on it. I’ve seen it happen.” But even as I say it, I’m not sure I’ve witnessed actual deaths. Maybe I’ve heard the stories so many times I can picture them, and I never had reason to question it.

Gage draws a long breath. “I’ve seen it, too.” He shakes his head. “Clearly, it’s not always lethal for Deviants.”

“Or Shredders,” I add. That must be why Burn stopped him from taking more in. For all I know, Gage might be one lungful away from turning into a Shredder. I inch away from him.

He lifts his head and I instantly feel bad for moving away. I’m trying to figure out Gage. One minute he’s a nice guy and I’m grateful we have an adult with us, but the next he seems to unravel. I can’t clear my mind of his crazed expression when Burn was feeding him dust.

“Is your Deviance speed?”

He nods.

“How did the Comps find you?”

“I told someone that I was a Deviant.” His voice is hard, cold. “She turned me in.”

“Someone you trusted?”

He nods.

That was his first mistake. Trusting someone. “Someone betrayed me, too.”

Gage’s wipes his glassy eyes with the sleeve of the sweater he borrowed from Burn.

“Who was it?” I ask quietly.

He shakes his head and his expression hardens as he stares into the night.

“Do you have a family back in Haven?”

He shoots to his feet and starts pacing. His face twists into a grimace and I can’t tell whether he’s in pain or upset by my question—or both. I stand, hoping he’ll stop, but his speed increases, each pass across the twenty-foot-wide slab taking mere seconds.

I’m getting dizzy, and worried. “Are you okay?”

He stops and spins toward me. “No, my cuts are hurting. I need more dust.” Gage grabs me and his bony fingers dig into my arm. “Get me some?”

“More dust?” Even if it heals, this doesn’t seem wise.

“Please! Just a little.”

I shake my head and pull my arm from his grasp.

“Help me.” He lunges and I jump back. “I can’t go down there right now, not like this. If Burn sees me taking more dust…” His eyes are open too wide, he’s sweating and his
whole body’s shaking. “He warned me. I don’t trust myself. I’ll take too much.”

He drops to the concrete and starts punching his thighs so hard it would hurt even if he weren’t cut.

“Stop that.” I grab his arm. “What are you doing? You’re going to hurt yourself.” Fresh blood seeps through his pant leg—he’s not as healed as he claimed—then he curls up in a little ball, tucks his face into his knees and moans. The sound’s low and creepy, and although part of me thinks I should try to comfort him, I can’t bring myself to do it. Instead I move away, as far from him as I can get on the platform.

Gage is the adult here—Burn and I are kids in comparison—and it’s too much for Gage to expect me to look after him. Besides, I’m not qualified. Look at the mess I made of looking after Drake. I was a sorry replacement for our mother.

Sadness lands on me like a fallen sky panel and I drop to the floor, the weight of the last few days sapping my strength.

Hoping to conjure her presence, I rub my mother’s ring, but I’m beyond comfort, beyond saving, beyond hope. Cal betrayed me, I lost my brother, Burn deserted me, and now Gage has gone insane. I’m all alone, surrounded by darkness and dust and death.

Gage sobs and his clear self-pity pulls me from mine.

I can’t sit here and do nothing. And no way will I cry.

Burn has been gone for too long. I stand at the edge of the slab and look ahead, scanning for him but I can’t see him. Whether he’s deserted us or needs help, I can’t just sit here listening to Gage’s moaning. I need to do something. I need to see what we’re facing for myself.

I don my mask. Immediately the world grows much darker, so I unsnap the eye-shield and flip it up to the top of my head. Not even saying good-bye to Gage, I grab on to the girder at the side of the platform and swing around until I’m hanging from it in a crouch, my feet braced on the rusty metal. Hand over hand, taking some of the weight with my feet to slow my descent, I lower myself until I’m close enough to the ground to jump.

Dust rises to my knees and I’m glad I put the mask on, even though I already miss the crisp night air. My ankle didn’t scream when I landed. Must be adrenaline. Can’t be the dust.