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9
Through the ringingin my ears came muffled screams and cries. A heavy weight atop me shifted, and hands maneuvered me so that I could see the commander. His lips moved, but I couldn’t hear him.
He stood me on my feet and glanced over me, his hands pushing aside my cloak as he looked for injury. He appeared unharmed, yet he was visibly angry, judging by the scowl tugging at his features.
I heard him say as if from far away, “Stay here.”
That sounded good. I leaned against the display still playing at my back and eyed the devastation.
Something had exploded, and given what I’d seen before it had happened, it’d been done intentionally, with no care given to those who would be harmed. A woman in yellow streaked with red held a smaller body and wailed. A man pressed a hand to his head, the blood streaming despite his efforts.
As my hearing returned, I heard the wordterroristsamidst the wails.
It made me think of Silas and his claim that he fought against the Enforcers and the laws that kept Grays below ground. There was nothing noble in what had just occurred. This was wanton violence perpetrated on innocents.
A tug on my sleeve turned me, and I gaped as I saw Silas, dressed in green today, crouched behind the pedestal still playing its hologram.
“What are you doing here?” he queried.
I could have asked the same. But I replied, “The commander brought me to the park to see the animals.”
His lips pursed. “He chose a bad day for it.”
The implication hit me. “You knew about the explosion. Why, though?”
“Parks like this shouldn’t exist when there are people living in holes underground.”
“But you hurt people.” I could still hear their wails.
“It’s unfortunate, but tragedy helps to get our message out.”
I had to wonder at his method. “There must be a better way.”
“Like how? The Cabal controls everything.” He glanced past me. “I have to go, but before I do, you still have the box?”
I nodded.
“Bring it with you to the gala. Give it to the commander before they serve dessert.”
“What gala?”
“I have to go. Don’t tell him. I’m trusting you, and never forget the Grays are depending on you.”
Depending on me? Why should I care? I’d been marked and lifted out of my old life. Why would I want to get involved?
The answer proved simple. If I’d not been marked, I’d still be one of those Cavers, eking out an existence with no pleasure.
If I could help, I should, although I drew the line at violence. For me, it seemed counterproductive to claim harm and then do harm to fix it.
The commander returned with an Enforcer dressed in armor. “Go with him.”
“Where?”
“To my apartment. You’ll be safe there.”
Would I? I already knew Silas had ways of getting inside. But I couldn’t exactly tell that to the commander. And why would I? Silas didn’t want to harm me.
As I left with the Enforcer, I glanced back a few times to see the commander directing Greens to tend the injured, Yellows to handle the damage, Reds to restore order.
