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I turn my head to see what he's so afraid of, and the sight makes my body run cold.
Just a ways from the car is a massive cloud tearing across the land. In the middle of the dirt is a metallic, snake-shaped figure rising toward the sky, arching for a second before diving back down to the ground and crashing through the dirt.
"What is that thing?" I breathe out in horror as the ground shakes.
Blaise tightens his grip on me as he falls backward. I brace myself to slam against the ground, but he twists his body at the last second, and we tumble into the trunk.
Blaise releases me and scrambles to pull the trunk closed as gunshots are fired. Darkness immediately smothers me, and I suddenly picture myself back in the cell, trapped in the darkness.
Blaise lies down close and wraps an arm around me. "It's going to be okay," he whispers. "Just hang on and take deep breaths. If it gets too bad, shut your eyes and pretend you're somewhere else."
"Okay," I whisper through my ragged breaths. "Blaise, what was out there? Is it ...? Is it a watcher?"
"No." Not an ounce of fear is in his tone, yet I can feel the tension flowing off him. "They're Trackers and they're more dangerous than watchers."
"It looked like a ..." I trail off, not wanting to say it out loud, fearing he might think I'm insane.
"Like a giant snake," he says. "Yeah, that's pretty much what Trackers are."
"But it looked ..." I press my hand to my forehead as my skull begins to throb. All this unfamiliarity is too confusing, and my worry suddenly spills out of me. "I don't understand any of this: why the sky looks like it's bleeding, why the land is so desolate and sad, why there's giant, mechanical snakes ripping up the ground. This isn't how I remember the outside ... Maybe you're right. Maybe I've never been out here before. Maybe I just imagined everything." That may have been the longest I've ever talked before, and my throat hurts by the time I'm done.
Blaise's chest crashes against mine as he inhales and exhales violently. "What did you think the world looked like?"
I picture the world I imagined was waiting for me if I ever escaped the cell. "The sky was blue except for at night. At night, it turned black, but there were these things up there that shined ... I can't remember what they were called ... stars, I think ..." An image of glittering purple and silver stars flickers through my mind, and I almost smile. "Sometimes, the sky turned grey, like when it rained, but it was still beautiful, especially when lightning lit up the clouds. And there were trees everywhere and the land was so green and lush. And the air was clear, and it didn't hurt to breathe." I press my hand to the base of my throat and suck in a slow breath, wishing I could feel the air.
"It sounds like a beautiful place."
"Does it exist? Or is this it?"
"I don't know," he says. "I've never heard of anything like that, but I haven't seen the whole world, either."
Tears well in my eyes. What if the world I dream of doesn't exist? What if what's out there now is all that's out there? What if this world is just the channels and the wardens and violence and emptiness?
"It's not always this bad," Blaise says, as if reading my mind. "I know things are crazy right now, but when we get back to the station, it'll settle down. The broken city isn't any safer, but we have a place that's protected from corruptness. You should feel safe there."
I'm about to ask him what the city is like, what makes it so corrupt, when something slams into the car. I'm jolted so hard my teeth clank together. Pain radiates through my jaw all the way to my brain.
"What was--"
"Allura," something hisses.
"Blaise, what was that?" I whisper, shivering. My skin crawls, like back when the magnetic current between my cuffs caught the iron circle. Little pinpricks creep through my veins, tiny, festering sensations as if bugs are eating me from the inside out. I scratch at my skin, desperate to make the feeling go away.
"Allura ..."
I jerk back as two glowing, red eyes appear in the darkness. "Blaise, what is that!"
"What was wha--" Blaise starts, but the car gets slammed again, this time from right underneath us.
The red eyes dim as the metal ceiling caves in and the padded floor bowls up. The car begins to tip sideways, tossing me with it. I roll into Blaise, landing on top of him.
"Hang on!" Blaise shouts, his hand pressing against my back. "It's going to flip."
I loop my arms around his neck and desperately clutch on to him as the car topples sideways. I hear my name hissed again as we go airborne for a split second then slam to the ground. My body is tossed like a ragdoll, and I land somewhere between the inside of the trunk and the floor. A second later, Blaise rolls into me. Our bodies are pressed so close together that I can barely move.
Blaise moves back when the car is jarred again. The collision sends me flying away from him, and I bounce around, slamming against the sides of the trunk. The car flips wildly, spinning out of control. I'm launched around in every direction, my arms, elbows, head, and knees banging against the inside of the trunk. A few times, I collide with Blaise, and I feel him trying to grab me, but before he can get a decent grip, the car overturns again, and we fly away from each other.
I can feel my skin bruising as my body takes blow after blow. I finally put out my arms, hoping to brace myself, but my hand snags on a sharp piece of metal, kinking my arm. My shoulder lets out a loud pop, and I cry out as searing hot pain spreads all the way to my fingertips.
"Allura! "Blaise yells from somewhere.
I open my mouth to tell him I'm fine, even though I don't think I am, when the car abruptly stops moving. I crash against the side of the trunk and let out a scream as my shoulder wedges between two pieces of dented metal.
I take sharp breaths, breathing through the pain. I can hear Blaise banging around and cursing. Then there's a click, and soft light filters through the trunk.
The sunglasses must have gotten knocked off, but my pupils eventually adjust to the faint light. I take in the sight: the floor now above my head and the ceiling below my body. The sides are completely crushed, limiting the already restricted space. Thank God, I can't see red eyes anywhere, and the crawling sensation has stopped. Still, claustrophobia strangles me, choking the oxygen from my lungs. I try to picture myself somewhere else, someplace safe and out in the open, but I draw a blank.
Blaise rolls beside me and props up on his arms. He has a flashlight in his hand and a concerned look on his face as he examines me. I do the same to him, wondering how badly he's hurt. Other than a small nick above his lip and a welt beneath his eye, he appears to be okay.
"Does anything hurt?" He sweeps my hair out of my eyes and inspects my face.
"My shoulder ..." I suck in a breath between my teeth. Just breathing hurts.
"I think you dislocated it, but I can't pop it back into place while we're here." He frowns then pushes up on his elbows and glances around. "We need to get out of here in case the Tracker comes back."
My eyes widen. "You think it'll come back?"
His gaze remains fixed on the back of the trunk. "Maybe. Trackers usually don't stop until they eliminate their target, so either it did and someone sent an electromagnetic pulse, or it took off to recharge."
I gulp. That monster could come back? The monster that I'm pretty sure whispered my name?
"Blaise, I think I ..." I stop myself.
He glances at me. "Think what?"
I'm unsure what to tell him. I feel silly for bringing it up, but I can't think of anything else to say. "I think I heard the Tracker whisper my name, and then I saw ... Well, they looked like red eyes."
His forehead furrows. "When the car was being flipped?"
I nod. "But then they disappeared."
Confusion remains on his face. "That's weird ... I mean, not the name thing; Trackers do that sometimes. But the eyes ... I have no clue what that could be. Trackers don't have red eyes. They're strictly mechanical." His gaze skims the trunk, his frown deepening. "We need to get you out of here."
"How would the Tracker know my name?"
"Trackers are usually programmed to know the names of their target. Although, considering you were a Nameless, it seems an odd. Normally, they just use the Nameless's number."
I rub my branded wrist with my fingertips. "So you think it was after me?"
"Maybe, but it could've been after all of us. I'd rather not stick around to find out, though."
"What about Ryder and Reece? Maybe they could help us get out of here?"
"Hmmm ..." is all he says.
Worry sets in. "They're okay, right?"
His lips part, but then he wavers. "Look, Allura, I don't want to feed you a bunch of bullshit, so I'm just going to be blunt because that's what I do. A Tracker slammed into our car a ton of fucking times, which probably means we're miles away from where we first were. We're way off course, and since we don't have a vehicle, it's going to take longer to get to the station. Blaise and Reece could be anywhere, but I can't risk hauling you around to look for them. It's too dangerous, and it's against protocol. And besides, whatever you saw--those eyes--they had to belong to something, and while I'm really fucking curious what that something is, I'd rather not have you with me when I find out. I need to get you somewhere safe."
"But what if Ryder and Reece are hurt?" I cradle my arm against my chest. Am I afraid? Yes. But I'm also worried. And the worry is outweighing the fear. "Or what if the Tracker comes back and goes after them?"
