I didn’t disagree with her, but it hurt, the way she said it. Like she wanted no part of me.
“I’ll go,” Red said.
“Me too,” Flush added, although not with as much conviction.
So that was the group: Red, Flush, and me. And of course Argos. Everyone else would cross the river and head straight for Dodge’s.
“If you want, I can join you,” Cat said later on, when it was just him and me.
“No, better that you’re with the others. They need you.”
“You sure about this? You don’t have to go back there if you don’t want.”
“It’s best this way,” I said, and left it at that.
That night I had watch, peering into the dark for any sign of yellow. I wondered if the wolves were content now, if they had just wanted us to leave Libertyville so they could reclaim that part of Skeleton Ridge for themselves. Or were they trailing us across the frozen tundra, waiting for the right moment to attack?
Soon, it wasn’t wolves I was thinking about, or Skull People, or even Hope. It was my grandmother. The woman with the long black hair whose final words to me had been I haven’t been guiding you, Book. You must be listening to your heart.
But at that particular moment, I had no idea what my heart was telling me. It felt like I knew less than ever.
8. (#ulink_afdb898f-f60c-540d-a794-547a5136bd44)
THEY SEPARATE THE NEXT morning. After an awkward round of good-byes, most of them cross the frozen river to the other side. The only ones who don’t are Book, Red, Flush, and Argos. Hope and Book don’t exchange any final words, but when Hope reaches the opposing riverbank, she catches him watching her. At the same moment they both look away.
Hope agrees that they need food, and she can’t fault Book’s plan to return to the Compound. Still, she can’t help but wonder if his ulterior motive is to find Miranda. It angers her that she feels a stab of jealousy.
For the first part of the morning, the two groups are a mirror—three on one side, seventy-one on the other—trudging through snow on opposite banks of the river. The trio moves at a far quicker pace, of course, and soon they forge ahead. When they eventually disappear into the horizon of white—Argos’s muffled bark a final good-bye—Hope is surprised to feel a sudden emptiness.
Later that day, Hope hears a distant sound. It takes a moment to identify it, and when she realizes it’s the growl of a Humvee, the Less Thans and Sisters scurry for cover, throwing themselves to the ground. Cat is atop a ridge, and Hope crawls forward until she’s next to him. They peek their heads above the snow.
A lone Humvee appears in the far distance, and they watch as it snakes its way across the snow-blasted prairie. What Hope can’t figure out is why it’s out here, where it’s going. The one-lane road appears to dead-end at a small, snow-covered mound. There are no buildings here—no structures of any kind. Just a rusted chain-link fence encircling a tiny hill.
“Launch facility,” Cat explains.
“Huh?”
“It’s where they fired the missiles that day. My dad took me to one once.”
“There’s a missile there?”
“Used to be, in an underground silo. Nearly five thousand of them, scattered across the country. That’s how the world blew itself up.”
Hope has often wondered about Omega. She was young when her father first explained it, but somehow she envisioned airplanes dropping bombs from the air, not missiles erupting from the prairie.
She studies the hill. It’s a good quarter mile away, but she’s able to make out an upside-down dome on top of the mound. Burn marks scorch its edges.
“What’s in there now?”
“Not a missile, that’s for sure.”
So why is the Humvee headed there?
They watch as the military vehicle nears, then passes through the fence, skidding to a stop when it reaches the small hill. Three Brown Shirts emerge, cracking jokes, their laughter bouncing off the cloudless sky. One lights a cigarette before they disappear behind the far side of the mound.
“Where are they going?” Hope asks, more to herself than Cat.
Five minutes pass before the soldiers return. They each carry a large wooden crate. Stenciled on the sides is the distinctive symbol of the Republic: three inverted triangles. Beneath that are a series of letters and numbers. M4. M16. AK-47.
Military weapons.
The three soldiers slide the wooden crates into the back of the Humvee and then return to the mound. Hope rises to her feet.
“Where’re you going?” Cat asks.
“I want to see what they’re doing.”
Cat looks at her like she’s crazy. “You want to go inside a missile silo?”
“That’s right.”
“Where there are three Brown Shirts with weapons?”
“Yup.”
“Why?”
She’s not sure she knows the answer, but it has something to do with unfinished business. Everything has to do with unfinished business.
Cat turns to the Less Thans behind him. Their hunger and exhaustion are obvious; many have fallen asleep in the snow. Cat points to the LT named Sunshine.
“Sunny, get up here,” he says.
Sunshine crawls forward. “What’s up, el bosso?”
“You’re good with a slingshot, right?”
“I’m good with any weapon.” He says it loudly, as if for Hope’s benefit. She rolls her eyes.
“Great. Then you’re coming with us.”
“What? I—”
“We’ll move in on their next trip.”
They wait for the soldiers to return.
9. (#ulink_dfbba173-ffd8-5562-9a27-7d7b6fe2cd01)
