The door shuts behind us with disturbing finality. We actually have to do this. Our plan for getting back out is vague at best, but we have no choice. It’s this or let MMC destroy an entire district of my city. My city. Which is not happening.
“Hey,” I murmur as Davon brushes past me. I snag the edge of his sleeve and tug. “Everything good?”
He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me in for a quick hug. “Good to go. You all ready?” he asks, turning to address the others.
Everyone nods, expressions serious, focused, nervous. I have the ridiculous urge to throw myself at them all for a group hug, to let Ania fuss and Jaesin ruffle my hair, to pull every inch of Remi’s body close to mine. The moment for that is long over, though. Instead, I give Davon what I hope is a firm, confident nod.
“Okay,” Davon says. “Follow me and stay close. I’ve diverted some camera feeds between here and where we need to go. I started in on the security to see what we’re up against, but it’s heavy duty. Diz, I’ll need your help once we get to the restricted area.”
Dang. If Davon can’t handle it solo, it must be some major ice. Sometimes two perspectives helps, though. We’ll handle it. We have to.
We follow quickly and quietly, turning down hallway after deserted hallway. I hold my breath at every corner, expecting someone to jump out and shoot us, to end this whole thing before it even begins. But nothing. Turns out eleven at night is the perfect time for abandoned hallways and silent rooms. I keep glancing up and to the right, waiting for a notification from my little drone, parked on the ceiling of the MMC boardroom. Nothing yet. We still have plenty of time.
“How far in is this place?” Jaesin whispers after about three minutes of twists and turns, looking over his shoulder every five seconds.
“Not long now,” Davon says. “One more hallway. They put the most secure part of the facility in the dead center.”
Sure enough, one more turn, the end of the hallway opens up into a larger, darker space, with a door edged in orange warning paint.
RESTRICTED AREA. LEVEL FIVE ACCESS ONLY.
So close.
The lights must be on a sensor, because as soon as we walk in, they flicker on, blinding me for a second. Something in the air changes too, though, like a pressure difference, or movement—
—and when my vision clears, we’re surrounded by MMC security, all with maz or guns leveled at us. Not maz-powered stun guns like ours. Real, lethal ones.
Adrenaline hits me like a wave of firaz, burning me from the inside out.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Jaesin says, voice flat. I look over at him, and I’ve never seen his face like this before—twisted and hateful. I follow his gaze back to the MMC guards surrounding us . . .
. . . and to Davon, standing next to the guard captain at the head of the group.
My mind goes perfectly blank.
I shake my head once, then again, my horrified gaze locked on Davon, pressed and polished in his MMC polo shirt, standing between the barrels of two leveled guns.
“No,” I say. “No, this isn’t what it looks like. Davon, tell me—”
The head of security gestures to me. “Is she the one?”
Davon nods. “That’s the deal. You touch her, they’ll have your job.”
“Calm down, kid, I know how to follow orders,” she says, holstering her gun. “Take the others into custody.”
Officers step forward and take hold of Ania, Jaesin, and Remi, forcing their arms behind their backs. My heart lurches painfully, watching them seize Remi’s shoulder and force them to their knees, the look on their face. . . .
Jaesin snarls and yanks against the guards’ hold, like a bull about to charge. “You complete garbage asshole of a human being, Davon, you godsforsaken—”
His breath rushs out of him in a whoosh as one of the guards slugs him in the stomach. My hands fly to my mouth.
“Davon, you—”
I cut myself off, fury threatening to strangle the words right from my throat. “How could you do this? After everything? After—”
I can’t speak. I can’t understand. I can’t . . .
“I told you, Dizzy. I’ve always got your back,” he says, hands held in front of him imploringly. “They knew we were family. They came for me after you left for Jattapore. I negotiated for you. Your job offer stands and your warrant gets wiped, and that comes straight from the executive board. You’re free. You still get to have a good life. We can get a new place if you want, just the two of us, and finally live like family again. We always wanted to when we were kids, remember?”
I do remember. We used to lie on the roof of Davon’s house and imagine what kind of place we’d have as grown-ups, all the things we’d buy for it, who we would marry and how they would totally not mind sharing a house because we’d all be best friends. The fact that we lived in separate houses as kids frustrated us to no end. We wanted to be a “real” family. Because, of course, to a child, family didn’t mean the same thing if you didn’t share a roof. I dropped my face into my hands and shook my head.
Real family.
He has no idea about real family.
A wave of rage hits me, hot and sudden, and I pin Davon with a fierce glare.
“How could you ever think I would want that?” I shout, the ragged sound tearing itself from my throat. “That I could just pick up and continue my life as if this never happened? As if I could just forget my friends? Forget everything we’re here to fight for?”
Davon sighs, exasperated. He has the nerve to be exasperated?
“Dizzy,” he says. “You and me, we’ve always known how the world works. We do what it takes to survive. We look after each other before all others. I know MMC’s history is messy, but there’s a balance to everything. We can’t go back and undo the past, but we can make sure things are the best they can be now. We can work to make things better. You would have done the same thing, if it were me in trouble. You know this was the right move.”
I shake my head and back away, one step, then two.
“No.”
Another step.
“No, Davon. I could never—” I break off, lift my chin, and look Davon dead in the eye. “I could never do what you’re doing right now.”
I turn to look at Ania, Jaesin . . . and Remi. Kneeling, faces twisted with pain as the guards wrench their arms, bruise their wrists.
I did this to them. It’s my fault.
“You have it all wrong,” I say, looking back to Davon. “They are my real family.”
Silence.
“Well,” Davon finally says, stone-faced. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
We stare at each other across the room, surrounded by guards who seem to be waiting for something. Waiting to see if I’ll turn violent so they can justify taking me down, probably. Waiting for Davon to give up on me so they can take me too.
There has to be a way out of this. There’s no way we can come this far only to stop right outside the door. MMC will continue with their drilling, destroy the whole district, Ginny’s bakery, the clubs, the factories. More people out of jobs, more maz-15 in the system, more people ill. More people dying. More control for MMC.
I look around the room with a disorienting sense of deja vu. Was it really less than a day ago that we were in this exact same situation at the professor’s house, surrounded, no hope of ever . . .