Patricia remained unmoved.
“Congratulations,” I sighed. “You’re getting a new name.”
She blinked.
“Don’t get too excited. I haven’t thought of one yet,” I said, choking. My throat was so dry.
A shudder ran through me. I had approximately three swallows of water left in my bottle and so far no decent way to secure any more. It was gross—so gross I didn’t even want to admit it—but I’d already checked the only working bathroom on the remaining floor of the house. The toilet bowl was empty. The garage had burned to ashes, so there wasn’t a hot water tank to drain.
Yeah, that’s right. I am a skilled enough plumber to consider the hot water tank, thanks to theApocalypse for Dummiesbook in the bunker.
I really needed to find water. And food.
Paul’s crib was a few miles up the hill from downtown Port Angeles, and I remembered at least two gas stations and a small local grocery store we passed on the drive in. Except that was almost seven years ago, who knew what stood there now.
I yawned, tucked the photographs back into the drawer, then made my way to the sofa in front of the stone fireplace. I was tempted to start a fire—it was so goddamn cold—but I wasn’t sure I should be burning anything with unpredictable drafts blowing through the house. Besides, I was too exhausted to care. The sofa was dark, either stained by soot from the fire or made that way. At this point I couldn’t tell. I sank into the cushions and wrapped my arms around myself. Only for a second.
In a few hours I’d start the hike into town to find water. “We’ll go in a few minutes,” I murmured to Patricia, my mouth dry.
The mask sat beside me on the cushion. I’d meant to keep it on, but breathing through the filter made my head pound worse than the thirst already did. If the air killed me in my sleep… well—at least I’d go comfortably.
21
Comet Tails
Jude
It was just my luck that my father would be standing between me and what I wanted most. Adam was hovering near a stack of secured cargo crates, face illuminated by his visor light. He held a black crate in his arms.
“SOL open comms.”
“Opening comms.”
“What are you doing here?” I snapped.
Adam set the crate down. “Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing.”
I guided my tether line forward, wrist thrusters firing in short, controlled bursts. “I’m on a mission,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “I’m retrieving my shuttle. Clearance run.”
He let out a low laugh. “Is that why Commander Zhang just put out a wide alert looking for you?”
I went still—my tether tightened, correcting my drift. SOL hovered at my shoulder.
“I’m loading up for a mission, we’re running to Eden-9.” He pushed off the cargo stack and intercepted my path, matching my movement with infuriating ease. “Tell me what’s going on, son.”
“It’s nothing.”
He followed. “Jude.”
I swallowed, hand tightening on the line. “I’m going down… to Earth,” I admitted.
“Why?”
“I need to save Solace.”
His expression shifted. “What does that mean?”
“I can’t explain it,” I muttered. “I just know.” My throat tightened, and the words started coming too fast to stop them. “I’ve been having these dreams about her. And then she appeared—alive and living underground. We’ve been talking on the radio after Commander Zhang managed to make contact. And then tonight, I woke up with this pressure in my chest like something was being torn out of me.” I shook my head once, hard. “And SOL can’t find her,” I said, glancing at the drone hovering beside me. I didn’t bother mentioning the dreams. “No trace. Nothing. It’s like she never existed. I feel fucking crazy.” My voice cracked on the last part. What if she wasn’t even out there?
