Phoenix (5 page)

“Those numbers are great!” Natalie says.

Beetle grins. “Yeah, and just imagine what they’ll be like for the cities that
hate
the Sentry.”

No wonder Purian Rose paid me a visit yesterday. He must’ve known the vote was going
to be tight. And it hits me: we could actually
win
this. I’d always hoped we could, but looking at those figures, that hope is becoming
a reality. All I have to do is vote no to Rose’s Law, and my people could be spared
from going to the Tenth.

But then Natalie will die.

My stomach clenches.

Natalie or twenty million people.

Who do I choose?

“Bro, don’t make a scene,” Beetle suddenly says to me, peering over my shoulder.

I turn, wondering what he means, and my fangs instantly flood with venom as I stare
into the callous green eyes of Sebastian Eden. I take a protective step toward Natalie.

“I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d show up,” Sebastian says, looking pointedly
from me to Natalie.

“What, and miss the chance to humiliate Purian Rose on live television?” I say.

“I would tread very carefully, nipper,” Sebastian says icily. “Don’t forget what’s
at stake here.”

“I haven’t,” I reply.

A cruel smile breaks out on his lips. “Give my regards to Polly,” he says to Natalie,
before walking onto the stage.

“God, he’s such a jerk,” Natalie mutters, then turns to talk to Day.

“What was he talking about?” Beetle whispers to me when she’s distracted.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” I reply.

He presses his lips together, not believing me. Beetle knows me almost as well as
Natalie does, so he can tell when I’m lying. To his credit, he doesn’t push it.

On the digital screens the cameras cut back to SBN studios. Glamorous news presenter
February Fields gives us a wide, glossy-lipped smile.

“The final votes are in for the Dominion State.” We all stop talking and look at the
screen. “The state votes in favor of Rose’s Law.”

“Two-zero,” I mutter.

“Don’t stress about it, mate.” Beetle claps a hand on my shoulder, making my scars
sting. “We’re next. We’ll swing the vote back in our favor.”

My neck muscles tense up. The time to make my decision is nearly upon me. I look up
at Sigur, who is still watching the proceedings from the Boundary Wall. I can’t see
the expression behind his mask, but his body language is stiff.

Natalie or my people?

The footage cuts to the town square in Black City.

“Next up, Black River State,” February Fields announces. “First to vote will be Black
City.”

My stomach lurches.
Showtime.

Traditionally, the state capital votes first, mainly so the lesser cities in the state
know how they’re meant to be voting. It’s an unspoken rule among the cities to do
this, to show strength and unity in the state, although the lesser cities don’t always
listen.

The television cameras turn toward Sebastian, who stands primly on the stage next
to the glass cubes. Behind him, a row of Sentry guards stand at attention, their guns
locked and loaded. The message is clear: vote yes.

Sebastian waves a hand, ushering the first voters up. Normally, the Emissary would
vote first, but since Black River State doesn’t have an Emissary at the moment—no
politician seems willing to take on that poisoned chalice—the citizens go straightaway.

“Here we go,” Beetle says as Sally walks up to the stage, her black bustle dress dragging
through the ash coating the cobblestones.

The tension in my shoulders unwinds a little, knowing we’ve got her vote.

Juno commentates live on camera. “The first brave citizen steps up to the podium,
a vision in black—the color that has become synonymous with hope in this city,” she
says, alluding to my Phoenix outfit. “After months of campaigning, it all comes down
to these next few moments . . .”

Sally’s face is projected on all the digital screens as she walks up to the voting
boxes. She glances toward Sebastian, who is standing beside the
NO
box, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. She hurries over to the
YES
box and drops in her vote, then quickly returns to the crowd and drags her boys out
of the town square.

“I thought we could count on her vote,” Natalie whispers. “I guess we don’t know who
to trust.”

I look behind me. The two Sentry guards who were following us are still nearby, watching
me.

The next few dozen votes go like this, with people visibly shaking as they hurry to
drop their ballot papers into the
YES
box. I look up at the screen: 48
YES
; 0
NO
.

“Fragging hell,” Beetle mutters under his breath.

“Hang on,” Natalie says.

James and Hilary Madden from Firebird radio walk up the steps to the platform.

I take a deep breath, and Natalie gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.

They fold their ballot papers and walk toward Sebastian. James flashes a look in our
direction, and there’s a cold gleam in his eyes. In that moment, I know we’ve lost
them. They veer to the right and drop their ballot slips into the
YES
box.

Beetle swears loudly. “Those
traitors.
I bet they were the ones who stole our weapons! They should be hanged!”

I swallow a hard lump in my throat.
Will he want to hang me as well?
I think Beetle’s suspicions are right, though. As prominent members of Humans for
Unity, James and Hilary have full access to all areas of the Legion ghetto, including
the weapons store. They defiantly walk down the steps, their heads held high.

Beetle spits on James as he passes by, and the man turns, swinging a fist at Beetle,
missing him by a hair’s breadth. It all happens so quickly: James and Beetle start
fighting, throwing wild punches at each other. Day and Hilary try to pull them apart,
but they get knocked to the ground as more people join the fray. Two people soon turn
into twenty. Fists fly, and people are pushed and shoved. In the melee, James and
Hilary manage to flee. Flashbacks to the riot two months ago crash into my mind. I
can’t let this happen again! I rush onto the stage and grab Juno’s microphone.

“STOP!” I yell at the top of my lungs.

My voice reverberates around the town square. Everyone is deathly silent. Thankfully,
the fighting stops immediately.

Thousands of faces stare up at me from the crowd, reminding me of the day I was crucified.
My mouth suddenly feels dry, and I can almost taste the acacia fumes.
Not now . . .
I lick my dry lips, and start to speak.

“We’re here to vote, not to fight,” I say. “Don’t resort to bloodshed and undermine
what we’re trying to achieve today. The government may think it’s acceptable to intimidate
us with their guns and their soldiers”—I slide a look at Sebastian, who glowers at
me—“but that is not our way. We will not be governed by fear.”

A lone voice calls out across the crowd. “No fear, no power!”

The chant is picked up by another person, then another, just like on the day of my
crucifixion. Soon the whole city is chanting, “NO FEAR, NO POWER!”

I should be happy. This is exactly what the rebels wanted, but I can barely breathe.
It’s precisely the thing Rose wanted to avoid. I’m meant to be showing my unwavering
support of him.
If I don’t . . .
I glance from Natalie to the two guards standing a short distance behind her.
They’re going to cut her up.
There’s still a chance to make this right.

I take out my ballot paper. Never has a slip of paper felt so heavy in my hand.

I shut my eyes.

Vote yes and save Natalie.

Vote no and save twenty million people.

My heart hammers. Everyone in the nation is watching me now, waiting to see what I’ll
do, including Purian Rose.

Natalie.

Twenty million people.

The girl I love.

Twenty million people.

There was never a choice.

I slip my vote into the ballot box.

“Ash Fisher votes no to Rose’s Law,” Juno reports to the camera.

I look at Natalie down in the crowd, and my heart splinters into a million pieces.
I’m so sorry.

The rebels cheer, but I barely hear them as I sprint off the stage and grab her hand.

“We need to leave the city,” I say to her in a rush.

She raises a brow at me. “What?
Now?
”

The two Sentry guards are still behind her.

“Yes, now. Let’s just go,” I say.

I have no idea how I’ll get her past all the guards, but somehow I need to get her
to safety.

She looks at the line of people forming at the podium steps. “What’s gotten into you?
We’re in the middle of the ballot.”

“I don’t care,” I say urgently. “We need to leave.”

“I can’t leave Polly, plus I want to vote.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. She’s right, of course. I haven’t thought this through.

A crease forms between her pale brows. “You’re frightening me, Ash. What’s going on?”

I scan the crowd behind her again. The guards are nowhere to be seen. Where did they
go? Maybe Purian Rose ordered them not to take her here, since we’re being filmed?
I figure as long as we’re near the cameras, we’re safe.

“Nothing,” I say, leading her closer to the stage so we’re in the shot. “Everything’s
fine. I’m just jumpy with all these guards around.”

She studies me for a moment, clearly concerned. I kiss her cheek.

“Everything’s fine,” I say again.

“I should go vote,” she says, her hand slipping through mine.

I keep an eye out for the guards as Natalie walks up the steps, ignoring the cold
look from Sebastian. She casts her vote in the
NO
box, then joins me again. The line moves forward, and one by one, the citizens of
Black City move up to the stage. They don’t seem as scared as before. Some of them
even dare to look Sebastian in the eye as they drop their ballot papers into the
NO
box. The numbers soon start shifting, the nos overtaking the yeses. Beetle grins
at me. I cast a look at Sigur, who is still standing on the Boundary Wall. He gives
me a slight nod of approval.

The votes start coming in from the lesser cities around Black River State, and the
nos come in thick and fast. Ember Creek, a quaint harbor town on the east coast of
the state, is the last city to vote. Their polling station has been set up on a scenic
promenade surrounded by market stalls selling fishing supplies. Hundreds of people
are crammed onto the promenade, and they’ve all turned to face the camera, their expressions
fierce, defiant. The footage quickly cuts back to February Fields, but not before
everyone has heard the citizens of Ember Creek chant “No fear, no power!” at the top
of their lungs.

It doesn’t take long for the voting to finish, since Black River State is one of the
least populated areas in the country, after millions were killed during the war. I
stare at the results on the digital screens, not quite believing it. February Fields
appears on the monitors, her smile wavering and forced.

“The final votes are in for Black River State,” she says. “The state votes no.”

There are cheers and whoops of joy in the town square. Everyone is celebrating except
me.

“Now the Provinces will vote,” February Fields announces.

This sobers everyone up quickly. We may have won over Black River State, but if no
other states follow us, then everything we achieved today will be for nothing. Over
the next few hours, we watch with apprehension as the votes come in from the final
states:

The Provinces—No.

The Barren Lands—Yes.

The Emerald State—No.

Mountain Wolf State—Yes.

Golden Sands—No.

“Well, isn’t this exciting? The vote is tied,” February Fields says, her girlish voice
a little strained. “Four states vote in favor of Rose’s Law, and four against. And
finally, the Copper State!”

Everything rests on this last vote.

The screens cut to footage of Emissary Vincent, a thin black woman in her midfifties,
with a severe haircut that accentuates the hard angles of her face. She’s standing
in front of a wall similar to our Boundary Wall, except theirs is made from steel
and brass, not concrete.

All I can do is watch helplessly as the woman strides up to her polling station, which
has been set up similarly to ours. She briefly pauses, allowing the press to take
her photo before walking toward the
YES
box. It’s like watching an accident; you know it’s going to happen, but you can’t
stop looking.

Then she does something no one expects.

She turns sharply to the left and slips her ballot paper into the
NO
box.

There’s a pregnant pause as everyone in the town square stares at the screen in disbelief.

Emissary Vincent turns to look at the cameras, addressing the nation.

“Citizens of the Copper State, I urge you to—”

The live feed cuts out, and all the monitors turn black.

NATALIE

THE WHOLE CITY
is in pandemonium, everyone wondering what’s going on.

“What happened to the feed?” Roach calls up to Juno, who is still filming up on the
stage.

“Someone’s jamming our signal. We can’t broadcast anything,” Juno replies.

A graphic suddenly appears on the monitors, with the words
We are experiencing a technical difficulty. Be back soon!

“Technical difficulty, my ass,” Juno mutters.

“I can’t believe Emissary Vincent voted against Rose,” Day says, bewildered.

“She’s always stood up to him,” Natalie says. “Emissary Vincent cares about
all
people, not just the Sentry. My mother thought it made her weak.”

“If she’s flipped sides, this is great for the cause!” Beetle says. “She runs all
the munitions factories, and without weapons, he has no power.”

Before we can discuss it any further, the monitors spark back to life, and February
Fields’s face appears on the screens. She breaks out into a smile, but it doesn’t
reach her sea-green eyes.

“Citizens, our apologies for that short technical glitch. Oh, the perils of live broadcasting,”
she says, as if it were just some innocent mistake. “Thank you, Emissary Vincent,
for that rousing speech. And now back to the Copper State to continue with the voting.”

Emissary Vincent is nowhere to be seen, and is it my imagination, or have the television
cameras moved position? A young man hurries onto the stage, casting his eyes toward
something offscreen. He drops his ballot paper in the
YES
box. Beetle curses loudly. An elderly woman is called up next. Her eyes also flash
toward something hidden just out of view. I squint at the monitor as a dark smudge
appears in the bottom right corner of the screen—it wasn’t there a moment before.
The television camera pans slightly to the left, and the smudge disappears, but not
before I’ve worked out what it was.

Blood.

I gasp. “Ash . . .”

He’s seen it too.

“You don’t think . . . ?” It’s too horrible to say.

He nods. “They shot her.”

* * *

We lose the Copper State. It’s over. We’ve lost.

“And there we have it, citizens!” February Fields says brightly when it’s all done.
“The results are in, and the nation votes in favor of Rose’s Law, five to four.”

The screens cut to footage of each of the state capitals, where people are cheering
and clapping wildly. A victory party is happening outside Rose’s palace in Centrum,
with elaborate decorations and dancers in glimmering outfits performing in the city
square. They must’ve been planning this tableau for weeks. I notice that SBN news
skips over the Copper State in their little montage of victory celebrations.

The national anthem plays, and the broadcast ends on a graphic of a stern-looking
blond boy and girl, accompanied by the words
ONE RACE. ONE FAITH. ONE NATION UNDER HIS MIGHTY.

Sigur and Garrick leave the Boundary Wall, returning to the ghetto on the other side.
A moment later, there is a terrible sound as thousands of Darklings wail in grief.
Ash shuts his eyes, a pained expression on his face.

“You did everything you could for them,” I whisper.

“It wasn’t enough,” he says quietly.

“What are we going to do now?” I say.

“The only thing we can do—get ready to fight and defend the ghetto,” Roach says. “We’ll
hold the Sentry off for as long as we can, but it’s not going to be easy without our
stockpile of weapons.”

We all look at each other, thinking the same thing: how are we going to protect the
Darklings from the full might of Purian Rose’s forces? We weren’t prepared for this.
Until yesterday, we thought Rose’s Law was just about keeping the Darklings segregated,
not shipping them—and millions of others—off to the Tenth, to be enslaved and exterminated.

“Fight or die trying, right?” Beetle mutters.

Roach goes to talk to Juno, along with the other adults, while I hug Ash, trying to
remain calm while the reality of what this means crashes over me. As a twin-blood,
Ash will be sent to the Tenth along with the rest of the Darklings. It’s only a matter
of time before the Sentry guards start shipping everyone out. How long do we have?
A month? A week? A day?

“It was all for nothing,” Ash whispers.

“No it wasn’t,” I say. “We stood up for what was right.”

Ash brushes his fingertips across my cheek, his eyes dark with grief.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

My brow furrows. “You did everything you could.”

Sebastian smirks as he walks over to us. I can’t believe I ever kissed those toxic
lips. He fixes his gaze on Ash.

“So you voted no?” Sebastian shakes his head. “I honestly thought you cared for Natalie
more than that. Guess I was wrong.”

What does Sebastian mean?

Ash takes a protective step toward me. “If you touch her, I’ll—”

“What?” Sebastian quirks a brow.

Ash doesn’t say anything.

“I didn’t think so,” Sebastian says, then turns to me. “Just know it could have been
prevented.”

I watch Sebastian walk away, my head spinning.

“What was that all about, bro?” Beetle asks.

Ash shoots me a worried look, and my stomach knots as it dawns on me why he’s been
acting so weird lately.

“They got to you, didn’t they?” I say to him.

Ash rubs the back of his neck.

Beetle’s mouth hangs open. “Mate?”

“Rose told me if I didn’t vote in favor of his law, he’d . . .” Ash looks at me. His
black eyes are filled with shame.

My heart cramps. He doesn’t need to say it.

“Natalie, I’m so sorry,” he says in a rush. “What could I do? So many people were
relying on me; I had to do it. I—”

I gently kiss him. “It’s okay, I understand.”

My life isn’t worth more than millions of others. If the roles were reversed, I would’ve
done the same thing. It’s a testament to how much he loves me that he even considered
voting in favor of Rose’s Law to protect me.

“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?” I say gently. “I would’ve told you to
vote no. I’m not afraid of Purian Rose.” That last bit is a lie, but I don’t want
Ash to know how scared I am right now. What does Rose have planned for me?

Ash pulls me toward him, holding me tight. “I won’t let him hurt you. I’ll die before
I allow that to happen.”

I look over his shoulder at the three crosses near the Boundary Wall. I don’t doubt
his words. I know he’d die to save me—he’s done it before.

The rest of our families join us.

“We should go home before it gets dark,” Sumrina says.

Beetle and Roach head to the Legion to discuss defensive strategies with Sigur, while
Amy glumly helps Juno and Stuart pack up the equipment on stage.

Ash glances toward the Boundary Wall.

“You should go with Beetle,” I say.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he says. “Will you come with me? It’ll be safer for you
there.”

“If the Sentry wants me, they’ll get me no matter where I am,” I say. “Besides, I
want to check on Polly and make sure she’s all right.”

If my sister is having one of her bad days, like Day said she was, then she needs
me.

Ash flicks another look at the ghetto.

“It’s okay. Go,” I say. “I know there’s going to be a lot of business to discuss.”

“Roach can deal with it,” he says. “I’m not leaving your side.”

I smile, secretly grateful he’s staying with me.

The town square is almost entirely deserted, since the majority of people hurried
home when it was clear the vote wasn’t going in our favor. All around the city, doors
have been locked and shutters closed as people wait for the Sentry government’s retaliation
for our public defiance of Purian Rose.

The streets are swarming with Sentry guards, and I doubt they’ll leave again. They’re
setting up roadblocks, which is alarming. They obviously don’t want people to leave
the city. What do they have planned for us? Ash keeps me close to him, while Harold
and Michael flank us as we hurry back to the Rise, sticking to the back alleys to
avoid the guards. Even so, I keep glancing nervously about me, worried one of Purian
Rose’s men will appear out of the shadows and snatch me.

My heart races when something to my right catches my eye—a flash of a golden-brown
tail disappearing over the rooftop.
A cat.
I really am getting spooked. The sooner I’m home, the better.

The Rise is eerily quiet when we arrive. Curtains are drawn and lights are out in
the high-rise tenements and Cinderstone shacks. No children play in the cobbled streets.
I feel like a trespasser in my own home. We reach the Ivy Church, where Ash and his
father live. Harold says his good-byes, not questioning Ash when he stays behind with
me.

We turn down Cinder Street, and I’m almost knocked off my feet by a wave of heat.
Men, women and children are running in and out of their homes, all carrying heavy
pots and pans, water splashing over the sides. Acrid smoke fills the air. At the bottom
of the street, twenty soot-covered men are throwing buckets of water over the source
of the fire. It’s our house.

“MJ!” Day screams, running down the alley.

My stomach lurches. “Polly!”

I turn to Ash, but he’s frozen, transfixed by the flames. I grab his hand, snapping
him out of his nightmare. We sprint down the alley, ignoring the blistering heat.
This must be torture for Ash, but he doesn’t leave my side. We reach the house. Flames
spill out of the windows and consume the roof. The whole street could go up if we
don’t put the fire out soon, but that’s not my concern now.

“MJ! MJ!” Michael yells, searching for his son in the crowd.

I grab one of the men carrying buckets of water. “Did you see a teenage girl and a
young boy leave the house?”

The man shakes his head. Without pausing to consider the risks, I push past the men
and barge into the house, ignoring their pleas for me to stay outside. Ash follows
a heartbeat behind, an arm over his mouth and nose. The kitchen is ablaze. The floral
wallpaper has been entirely stripped away to reveal the Cinderstone bricks underneath,
which glow like embers.

“Polly! MJ!” I yell, and immediately start choking on the scorching fumes.

They’re not in the kitchen, so I head farther into the house, raising my arm to protect
my face from the heat. Ash grabs the door handle leading into Michael and Sumrina’s
bedroom and yells out in pain as the flesh on his palm sizzles.

“We can’t go in there!” he shouts. “The whole room must be an inferno!”

We hurry to MJ’s room. It’s billowing with smoke, and I can barely breathe.

“MJ?” I cough.

No answer.

I check Polly’s room next. Nothing.

Which leaves one room: the bedroom I share with Day. Paint is peeling off the door,
and the wood is warped from heat.
Oh, God, please let them be alive.
I shove the wooden door with my shoulder, the force making my teeth rattle. It doesn’t
budge. Ash joins me, and we hit it together. This time the door buckles, and I tumble
into the room. The air is thick with smoke. Ash and I frantically search for my sister
and MJ.

“They’re not here! Did they get out?” I call out to Ash.

A sickening thought strikes me.
Are they in Michael and Sumrina’s room?
Tears spring to my eyes, and I turn, ready to rush back to their bedroom, when I hear
a small moan from the wardrobe near my bed. The sound is barely audible over the crackle
of burning wood. A chair has been pushed in front of the wardrobe, and I knock it
aside and yank the cupboard door open. MJ topples out. I catch him before he hits
the floor.

He’s alive, but barely conscious.

“MJ . . . MJ, wake up!” I slap his face to rouse him.

He looks up at me with confused brown eyes.

“Where’s Polly? Is she here?”

A shake of his head. “Gone.” He slips into unconsciousness.

Polly isn’t here.
My relief is quickly countered by worry. Where is she? Ash lifts MJ over his shoulder.
I snatch my bottle of heart medication off my nightstand, tucking it into my pocket,
and we rush out of the room. The hallway is ablaze, and the heat claws at my skin,
scorching my eyes and lungs. I hold my breath as we push through the corridor, barely
avoiding a pile of burning books as it topples into our path. Flames lick up the walls
and over the ceiling, making the wooden beams above us creak and splinter. There’s
a terrible cracking sound, and Ash shoves me, sending me flying out the front doorway
into the street just as the roof caves in behind us.

Cool air smacks me in the face, and I gasp deep lungfuls of it before crashing to
the ground. Michael takes his son from Ash, who kneels on the cobblestones beside
me, coughing up soot. Someone hands us a pan of water, and I let Ash drink first before
guzzling the remainder myself. My throat feels scorched, on fire.

“Are you okay?” I say croakily.

He manages a nod, but his whole body is shaking.