Marcus. I force myself not to think of him. The lives of the seventeen Rising Tide kids depend on me staying calm and focused.
“We’re behind schedule!” a guard yells from the ship’s deck. “Where’s the commander?”
One of the guards by the ramp shrugs and says, “How the fuck would we know?”
“Send someone to?—”
“Pull the anchor! Hurry!”
Dozens of Ingrid’s green-uniformed soldiers are running toward the boat. More like sprinting, actually. They’re pumping their arms, most of them wearing panicked expressions.
“We have to get out of here!” one of the approaching guards yells.
I can’t believe what I’m seeing. The guards are shoving each other, fighting to get up the ramp and onto the boat.
“Get the kids off!” someone yells. “Get ’em off now!”
“How did he do this?” Nova whispers, awestruck.
“It’s poisoned!” a guard says. “That underground place is poisoned and Voss wants us all to get out while we can. She wants the kids left here.”
They all scramble, a chaotic scene unfolding as they argue and race to get on board the ship.
“We should go help the commander.”
“Shouldn’t we take at least one of the kids?”
“The commander’s probably dead! 6A5 died right in front of us!”
“Did you breathe the poisoned air?”
“Get those kids out, fucking now!”
My heart races furiously, because that wasn’t 6A5. Nova and I watch from the sidelines as we get everything we wanted, and something we didn’t think possible.
The Island Three soldiers are afraid of our island now. Marcus somehow convinced them the air is deadly and that’s why they’re fighting each other to leave. They won’t be able to get anyone to risk coming back here.
The Rising Tide kids run down the ramp, the oldest ones clutching the youngest in their arms. Some of them look alarmed. My heart breaks for them; this is just another traumatizing event they’ll have to live with, but it’s also a sign of progress.
At least some of them are feeling something. That’s new. They’ve always looked like miniature killer robots—shrewd and emotionless.
A baby wails as the kids gather in a group on the beach. The soldiers on board the boat waste no time pulling up the walkway and taking off, the motorized ship moving surprisingly fast.
Olin emerges from behind a rock formation, Pax behind him. One of the girls walks up to Olin and takes his hand, and some of the others make “Baby Shark” motions with their hands.
Stella walks out of the jungle wearing a fake grin. “Hey, guys! Want to play a game?”
My jaw clenches, a storm brewing inside me as I walk out of the cover of the brush, my gaze locked onto Stella.
“We’re going back to camp,” Olin tells the kids, ignoring Stella. “It’s safe again.”
“Hey,” Stella says when she sees me coming. “I’m so glad you’re okay. We’ve been worried.”
I play along. “I need to talk to you. Olin’s taking the kids back to camp.”
When Stella sees Nova, her false smile widens. “Nova, thank god you’re okay!”
Olin gets the kids lined up, and Pax approaches me.
