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“You look like hell,” Dare said.
She was trying to get a rise out of me, but I wasn’t mad. As it happened, I believed she came up with the perfect solution for the problem of my face being so recognizable. But I was in an incredible amount of pain and didn’t relish facing down the Troika when I felt like a mass of nerves and bruises.
“Relax,” Dare said, misunderstand
ing my expression. “Even your own mother wouldn’t recognize you now.”
“I’m so relieved.” My sarcastic tone was muddled by my swollen lips.
Saga pulled back and dropped the monocle. “This might just work.”
I crossed my arms. The move helped me realize that Dare had been surgical in her attack—only striking my face and not my torso or limbs. The effect left me looking like I’d survived an epic ass-kicking, but really she’d just punched me a few times.
Icarus had been quietly watching from the sidelines ever since I woke up. Now he stepped forward. “Whether they’ll recognize her will be a moot point if we can’t get them inside the prison.”
“That’s the easy part.” Saga looked way too pleased with himself for my comfort.
Icarus finally lost his patience. “How can you say that? I planned my escape for months and barely made it out alive.” He waved his scarred arm.
“Relax, my boy,” Saga said. “Escaping prisons is supposed to be hard.” He turned and removed a book from the shelf.
“It’s almost impossible to bust out of a prison camp, but no one ever expects anyone to break in.”
Twelve
Zed
After Meridian Six left the room, I followed her down the corridor. When I called her name, she didn’t stop at first. I jogged to catch up, finally reaching her at the door to her room.
I touched her arm, only to have my hand violently knocked away. “Sorry,” I said, backing up.
“What do you want?”
Squaring my shoulders, I met her eyes. “I’m going with you.”
She laughed and looked at me with pity. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re just a kid.”
I’d made a horrible mistake asking these people for help. Anger and frustration warred in my gut, but I was determined to make this shitty situation work. It had to, or I’d lose Bravo and Mica forever. “I’m nineteen. You can’t be much older. How long you been living away from the luxury of the Prime’s palace?”
Her eyes shied away, but not before I saw the truth.
“I’ve heard the rumors about you,” I said, stepping closer. “Meridian Six, savior of the human race, blew up some horrible place the Troika built near the city. As impressive as that is, those rumors started less than six months ago. Forgive me, sweetheart, but I’ve been surviving in the Badlands going on a decade. Call me a kid if you want, but I’m a kid who’s survived and managed to keep a lot of other people alive in the process. Between the two of us, I have the longer track record of success.”
Her chin rose. “Would those two the Troika took three days ago agree with that track record?”
Anger made the muscles in my fist contract. She was baiting me. Trying to get me to lose my cool so she’d have an excuse to cut me out of the mission. “Bait me all you want, but you need me.”
“How you figure?”
“I heard what the old man said yesterday. About killing Dr. Death.”
Her right eyelid twitched. Clearly she and the others had thought I was out of earshot when they had talked about their true plans. I enjoyed surprising her, but I was looking forward to playing the ace up my sleeve. “Back before the war, my family lived in the mountains around southern Pennsylvania.”
“So?”
“So,” I said slowly, “my daddy was in the mining business. If the war hadn’t happened and forced us to migrate for survival, I would have been a miner too.”
“What does that—”
