We eased forward and began exploring. Some of the tunnels were completely closed off, barricaded by heaping mounds of rock. Others looked remarkably the same. The Crazies had managed to destroy only a portion of the Compound.
Flush began winding his way between a series of scattered objects, bending down to inspect a stack of items in the very center of the chamber. “What’s this?” he asked.
I turned and looked … and my heart stopped. I needed no refresher course to know what I was looking at. It wasn’t just dozens of cans of gasoline, but also explosives—C-4 and sticks of dynamite, heaped atop one another like a jumbled pyramid.
Someone intended to reduce the Compound to a pile of rubble.
12. (#ulink_bff86ed5-76bf-5019-91fd-75ffb622069c)
HOPE SITS IN THE passenger seat while a Brown Shirt drives. The other four are crammed in back. Whenever the driver peeks to the side, Hope raises her crossbow so it’s aimed at his chest. The message is clear: Don’t try anything.
Before leaving, she instructed Diana to lead the sixty-some Less Thans to Dodge’s Log Lodges. Hope, Cat, and Sunshine will catch up when they can.
“How often do you make these deliveries?” Hope asks the driver. When he doesn’t answer, Hope nuzzles the crossbow against his side. “I asked you a question.”
“Get that thing outta my ribs, and maybe I’ll tell you.”
“Why don’t you tell me and then I’ll get it out of your ribs.” She presses it into his body.
“Just started,” he says, writhing. “Last week.”
“How many more trips will you make?”
“Till the silo’s empty, I guess.”
“You’re taking all those weapons to Chancellor Maddox?”
“That’s right.”
“Why?”
“Got me,” he says, and Hope jams the crossbow between his ribs. “I’m serious! I don’t know.”
For some reason, Hope believes him.
“Tell me about the Eagle’s Nest,” she says.
“What about it?”
“What kind of place is it?”
“A fortress you’ll never get into,” he says smugly.
Questions swim through Hope’s mind. Why are all those guns in an abandoned missile silo? Why are they being transferred to the chancellor’s headquarters? And why now?
The miles slip by—endless fields of white—as they veer farther and farther north, up toward the rolling foothills of Skeleton Ridge.
It’s late afternoon when the vehicle slows to a stop, and Hope realizes she’s been daydreaming. Something to do with Book. A part of her tries to shake the memory away.
Another part doesn’t.
“There,” the driver says, and Hope looks at where he’s pointing.
Perched atop a nearby mountain peak, swathed in swirls of clouds, is a fortress. Its walls are made of stone, and crenellated parapets give it the appearance of a medieval castle. Hope can’t believe it. What’s something like that doing in the Republic of the True America?
“What is this place?” she asks.
“I told you, the—”
“Eagle’s Nest, I know. But what is it?”
“A ski resort back in the day. Now it’s the chancellor’s HQ. That’s all I know.”
Hope studies it a moment. The turrets seem to snag the clouds, tugging at wisps of white. The Brown Shirt wasn’t kidding; the place is impenetrable.
“How do we drive up there?”
“We don’t.”
Hope turns to him and presses the crossbow into his chest.
“I’m not kidding,” he sputters. “There’re no roads up there in winter.”
“So how—” Hope doesn’t finish the sentence. At just that moment her eyes land on a tiny red square dangling in the sky. It’s an aerial tram slinking up the mountainside on a thick black cable. The soldier was right; there is no way in the world they’ll get up there—not if they have to ride in that.
“Told ya,” he says.
Hope sends an elbow into his side, and the Brown Shirt doubles over.
“Oops,” she says.
As her eyes follow the tram to the top, she tries to figure out how the three of them will make it up there. Because if that’s where Chancellor Maddox is, that’s where Hope needs to go.
“Well, I guess that’s that,” Sunshine offers from the backseat.
“Not necessarily,” Hope says. Even as she says it, she knows what she’s thinking is wildly dangerous and ridiculous even to consider. Still, what does she have to lose?
Three Brown Shirts shuffle through the snowy streets of town. Vehicles pass, weary salutes are exchanged. No one gives them a second glance.
A good thing, too, because wearing the uniforms are Hope, Cat, and Sunshine. The original soldiers are currently hog-tied in the back of the Humvee, down to their boxers, T-shirts, and socks. As a courtesy, Hope threw a blanket over them so they wouldn’t freeze to death.
Sunshine tugs at his uniform. “This thing is scratchy. And two sizes too big. And frankly, I don’t think the color becomes me.”
“I don’t think talking becomes you,” Cat growls. The younger LT shuts up.
Hope barely hears them; she’s thinking about Chancellor Maddox. Hope’s parents always taught their daughters to avoid the whole “eye for an eye” thing. They never said anything about “cheek for a cheek.”
A military transport passes, and Hope and Sunshine bow their heads. The fact that she’s a girl and has tea-colored skin makes her more than slightly conspicuous. Cat, the former Young Officer, fits right in.
