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She only panicked a little bit, when she realized that she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t need to breathe, though. She was air. Still, not having those functions we take for granted, not really having a body—it messed with her mind.
And then they were on the beach, twenty miles north of the Academy. It was dark and she was human again, on her hands and knees, gasping for breath and trying not to throw up from the dizziness. She spit in the sand, panting.
“You okay?” Miki asked. He stood a few feet away, looking windblown but mostly unruffled.
“God, a little warning would’ve been nice.”
“I did warn you.”
“A little more warning.”
“Sorry,” Miki replied. “I know it’s tough to get used to. And I don’t get to practice very often, since I’m not allowed to show the instructors.”
Taylor sat in the sand catching her breath and looked up at him, trying to get a read. He caught her watching and frowned.
“So how did you play Dr. Linda?” he asked.
Taylor’s hands tensed. “What do you mean?”
“I know she buys into that act you’ve been doing since you guys got back,” Miki replied. “But . . . I’m the wind, you know? I’ve been through every air duct in the Academy. I saw your guys’ dope underground hideout.”
Taylor swallowed. She got up slowly and squared up with Miki. He was a master at telekinesis and could probably carry her out to sea and drop her with his weird wind Legacy. But if she had to fight, she would.
“Easy,” he said, holding up his hands. “I haven’t told anyone. And I won’t. The Foundation’s got something on me, but I’m not on their side.”
Taylor stared at him, incredulous. “If you knew about us, if you aren’t against them—why didn’t you tell us? We could help you. You could help us.”
Miki gazed out at the ocean. “Obviously I don’t trust them, but tonight’s the first time they actually asked me to do something. Called me on a cell phone they smuggled in for me, told me it was urgent I helped you escape. I figured your plan had finally worked.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Miki shrugged. “I didn’t want to approach you guys until . . . well, until I was sure you could actually stop them. No offense.”
Taylor pursed her lips. “Some offense taken.”
Out on the ocean, a small boat’s light broke the inky darkness. It blinked three times, went dark for a few seconds, then blinked three more times.
“That’s your ride,” Miki said.
Taylor shook her head silently. About thirty minutes had gone by since she first broke into Dr. Linda’s house. The Foundation had arranged this extraction in less time than it took to cook a pizza.
Miki held out his hand. “I’ll fly you out there, if you’re up for it.”
“Better than swimming,” Taylor replied, trying to recapture some of the badass energy that had gotten her this far. It wasn’t easy—this was really happening. She was returning to the Foundation. She nervously took Miki’s hand.
“Seriously, good luck,” he told her. “I hope you take these bastards down.”
Whatever response Taylor might have made, it was swallowed up in the wind.
Chapter Nineteen
ISABELA SILVA
THE HUMAN GARDE ACADEMY—POINT REYES, CALIFORNIA
ISABELA SILVA DID NOT THINK OF HERSELF AS A hero. Hell no.
She knew some of her friends thought of themselves that way. Kopano, Taylor, and Nigel for sure. Ran, probably, even if she was too much of a wannabe pacifist to say so. Caleb, well, he probably didn’t know what to think about himself, that was his whole deal. Anyway, although they didn’t admit it, she knew that her friends thought of themselves as the second coming of the Loric Garde. They were a small group fighting against a powerful enemy in a secret conflict, their lives and potentially the fate of humanity on the line. Professor Nine, the big idiot, he encouraged this thinking with his secret hideout and special training.
Isabela couldn’t give a shit. The Foundation were bad people, sure. The Harvesters were about the worst pieces of human garbage she’d ever met. And given enough time and less supervision, Isabela was certain more of her fellow Garde would turn rotten like that Einar guy.
Point being, Isabela knew the world was full of bad people. It was never not going to be full of bad people. Her friends thought they could make a difference and that was cute, but Isabela knew it would never happen. There would always be a next battle, a next bad guy.
So, if she was so cynical, why was she hiding in the bushes alongside Dr. Linda’s house, keeping a lookout?
For starters, it was less boring than sitting in her room doing homework.
But also, for the same reason she’d kept hanging around the rest of the Fugitive Six, even though their last adventure got her shot. They were her friends. Isabela might have been a cynic, but she was also loyal.
In the shadows outside Linda’s house, Isabela let her mask slip. She touched the leathery ripples of her burn-scarred cheek. They’d seen this face, her true face—and they didn’t judge. They accepted her.
So, she would accept their silly hero fantasies and help them not get themselves killed. At least it made life exciting.
Movement. Someone was leaving Dr. Linda’s. Isabela cut short her reverie, rolled her eyes at her own self-reflection, and quickly shape-shifted back into her unscarred form.
It was the psychiatrist herself. Alone. Isabela scowled. Had their plan worked? Dr. Linda walked down the path that led out of the faculty village, towards the administration building. Linda had told Isabela—when she was in the guise of Nine—that she would go there to help search for Taylor.
She couldn’t let Linda go talk to the real Nine, not until Taylor had made contact with the Foundation. But Taylor was still inside. Was she supposed to wait there or . . . ?
“Merda,” Isabela grumbled. They should’ve worked this out better.
Isabela ducked out of her hiding spot and decided to follow Dr. Linda. She jogged between cottages, running parallel to Linda, getting ahead of her. She didn’t want to get noticed by any of the security cameras. She picked a shadowy spot between two cottages and waited for Linda to catch up.
“Dr. Linda,” Isabela hissed. “Boa noite.”
The little woman practically jumped out of her skin. Isabela hid her smirk. They’d been hard on her tonight, breaking into her house and then sneaking up on her. She had it coming.
“Isabela,” Linda kept her voice down, inching off the path to come closer. She played it cool. “It’s after curfew. Why are you up?”
“Where’s Taylor?” Isabela replied bluntly. “Are you going to help her escape?”
Isabela knew how to play this game of lies. Their original story was that Earth Garde was sending Taylor away. It made sense that Isabela would know about that, but she didn’t let on that she knew Linda was part of the Foundation.
“I . . .” Linda glanced back towards her house, not sure how much she should say. “It’s taken care of.”
“What does that mean?”
A sudden breeze blew in between them. Something on Dr. Linda jingled. The woman was holding her car keys. So, she wasn’t going to see Nine after all. She was fleeing.
“Taylor will be fine,” Dr. Linda replied, trying to find her authoritative voice. “I had . . . a friend of mine is getting her off campus.”
“What friend? You don’t have any friends.”
Dr. Linda pinched the bridge of her nose. “Please, Isabela. Go back to your room. Forget we had this conversation.”
Isabela craned her neck back towards Linda’s cabin. Was there someone else there? Someone who would get Taylor out? Another Foundation lackey?
“Who is your friend?” Isabela asked. “What if I want to go too? Will they take me?”
“Isabela, no. Enough,” Linda replied firmly. “Go back to your room or I’ll call security.”
“No, you won’t.”
They stared at each other. Linda’s gaze didn’t seem so penetrating out here in the night. Isabela made sure to keep her knowing smile on, even as her mind raced. Should she let Linda go? What happened to Taylor? Who was coming to get her and how would they get off campus?
“Isabela, you need to answer me honestly.” Isabela noticed the therapist’s voice shaking, not with anger but with fear. “I remember how you won those silly Wargames. Was that . . . was that you before? Pretending to be Nine?”
As gifted a liar as Isabela was, Dr. Linda was still a woman who read people’s emotions for a living. Just the slightest hesitation from Isabela gave Linda her answer.
“Oh no,” she said, and took a sharp step forward. “Do the two of you know what you’ve done? The danger you’re toying with?”
Before Isabela could respond, a flashlight beam swept across the nearby path. A single Peacekeeper strolled along there, doing one of the checks that had become routine since the Fugitive Six last snuck off campus.
Isabela grabbed Linda by the arm and pulled her back the way she’d come, through the shadows. Linda came willingly—she didn’t want to be caught out here any more than Isabela did. They made it to her doorstep just ahead of the Peacekeeper’s flashlight and Isabela used the access card from Nine to let them in. Linda was breathing hard; Isabela hoped that she wasn’t having a heart attack.
