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The rain pelts us, plastering my hair across my face, and when I jerk my head back to see, there are figures in the distance drawing closer.
“Someone’s coming,” I tell Sam.
“I see them. Too late now.”
Three men walk forward, one pointing in our direction. The man in the center wears robes instead of the red jumpsuit, and he places his hands on the shoulders of the other men, urging them to fall back behind him. They pause until only the adherent steps forward.
“Frederick,” I say when he’s standing before us. I’m still struggling, fighting the ties behind my back. Sam gets to his feet and moves over to Frederick, who raises his hand to him.
“Stop,” he says. “They sent here me to take you back to the Eminent.”
“Doesn’t want to give away his property just yet,” Sam mocks and jerks his head toward the fire, which is almost extinguished. “He holds such high regard for his subjects.”
“No,” Frederick confirms. There’s a cadence in Frederick’s voice I can’t pinpoint, something mocking but not cruel. “He’s going to hide you somewhere, like several of his people who can’t fight. We have given the rest of his subjects weapons, and by the lord’s command, they are to take over the Thalassa.”
I can’t stop the guffaw that escapes.
“Well, if the lord commanded it,” Sam bites out. He’s yelling over the rain that has now extinguished the fire.
Frederick steps forward and Sam steps back. “Hands tied behind my back, you still don’t stand a chance.” I see the knife in Frederick’s hand, and so does Sam. He takes another step backward, trying to draw Frederick further away.
“You going to follow me off that cliff, old man?” Sam says. My heart stops with the vision that slams into my brain.
“No,” I yell, rising to my feet and going over to Frederick. “Frederick, please,” I beg. “You know this doesn’t end well, no matter which side you’re on.”
He yanks me by my elbow, flipping me around. Sam rushes over, but it’s done before he reaches me.
My hands separate, the ropes cut from my wrists.
“Are you going to keep being difficult?” Frederick hisses into my ear.
Sam’s jaw drops. “What are you doing?”
“You two,” Frederick says to his cohorts. The two men take a step toward us, wiping their faces from the rain. “Keep watch.”
“We are,” one says.
Frederick motions at Sam with the knife, and he turns around, showing Frederick his wrists, which he cuts. We’re both free, standing together in confusion. The rain continues to get worse, and I look up at the sky. It’s not a wall of black coming down on us. The global killers are over, but this storm will get worse before it gets better.
Moving closer to Frederick, I unwrap the soggy rope left around my wrists. “I thought you were against the uprising?”
Frederick’s face crumples, and he shakes his head. “I’m trying to protect my daughter.” He hands me the knife and shrugs. “That’s the only weapon I’ve got.”
I nod. “My family? What’s happening down there?”
“I saw them, and they’re fine. They have all the kids too young to fight in holding, but they won’t be for long,” Frederick says. “I need to get the Eminent up here.” The men with him come closer, circling us.
“What?” Sam says. “He won’t. He’ll hide and let the others do his dirty work.”
“Listen, we can draw him out,” Frederick promises. “The escape — it won’t work. Not with what we have and the time we have. We see that now. We’ve tried it every way with the plans Alex gave us.”
“We?” I ask Frederick.
He raises his head to the sky, looking at the clouds rolling overhead. “She’s said for months she doesn’t want to live anymore,” he admits. “Mary said some time ago she couldn’t promise to keep her alive. She looks after her, you see.”
“Your daughter,” Sam confirms.
“Yes. I don’t think… No, I know she won’t survive much longer,” he sighs. “This is her only chance.”
