Page 59 of Storm Caller

I watch as he trades a look with his dad, who offers him a slight nod. I’m sure they’re both thinking about Navy and Beckett and what finding the cure could offer them all. It’s a risk Rook is willing to take. We both are.

“Fine,” he says before turning to me. “You’re sure?”

“As sure as I can be.”

“Then let’s go.”

We enter the plane, and it whirs to life, engines spinning, as Rook takes my hand. Then we start moving, barreling down an open stretch of plain before the aircraft gently lifts into the sky. I’m holding my breath as we ascend, my stomach falling through my feet.

We crest toward the clouds, and then I’m watching the world below us. Forest and trees. Even a station camp far in the distance. Rivers meander across the landscape, and beyond them, more flatness, more wastes. I imagine the Neo-Cities far in the distance, wondering how long it would take to reach one if we headed north or south.

I forget to be scared and am blown away instead.

I’m not sure how long we’re flying before the engines change in pitch and we begin our descent. The sensation is so strange, like I’m a soap bubble floating with no direction. The plane coasts along the earth, and then there’s a gentle bump as the wheels touch down. After a moment, it comes to a stop, and we all file out before piling into a couple of trucks. Before long, New Manhattan’s skyline becomes a barely visible dot in the distance.

Our truck stops, and the general turns around from where she’s sitting in the front seat. “This is where we part ways,” she says. She pulls out her phone—larger, thicker, and more heavy-duty than the one I carry. She holds it up and shows us the screen. It’s a map.

“This is where you’ll find a tunnel entrance into the city,” she says, pointing to a spot not far from here. “It’s about a thirty-minute walk due north. You can rest there for the night, and then it will take you a few hours to follow the tunnel into the city. The exit is near one of the busy market squares, and there you’ll get yourself arrested by the Extinguishers.”

While we were flying, she laid out our plan.

Allow myself to be taken in. I’ll stand trial. She’ll help clear my name.

It seems pretty dangerous, but she assures us this will work.

“Won’t the Extinguishers think it’s a bit obvious that we’ve walked straight into the middle of a crowd?” Rook asks, and the general shrugs.

“They’ll just be happy to boast about capturing you.”

“Will Rook get arrested, too? They don’t suspect him, do they?” I ask.

The general shakes her head. “The Robins girl only identified you, and they believe he is just a Solitude. A little bit wild but mostly harmless. They may decide to take you in, though. If that happens, I will get you out, too.”

Rook and I share a wary look. We agreed to return and help the general, and now it seems we have no choice but to follow through, no matter how reckless it might seem.

“We’ll leave you with some food and water,” Sol says, as if that’s supposed to make this all better.

After a few more assurances from the general, Rook and I find ourselves standing alone in the Wastes.

Or . . . I guess I should start calling it by its proper name, the Tiera Frais.

It’s so quiet.

Clouds tumble overhead, the wind kicking up dust.

“I guess we should get going,” Rook says, holding out his hand.

I slip my fingers into his, and then we make our way toward the tunnel entrance.

“Why are there so many tunnels out here?” I ask.

“Old subway lines,” Rook answers. “There used to be hundreds of them back in the Warming Age, when all of this was inhabited. Many collapsed or caved in, but some remain functional. I don’t know how stable they are, though.”

We fall into silence as we continue our trek.

As promised, we find a tunnel entrance and try to get a few hours of sleep on the cold, hard ground. In the morning, we make the quiet journey toward the heart of the city.

Eventually, we encounter our first ladder leading to the surface.