The Trap (The Hunt #3)

The Trap (The Hunt #3) Page 29
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The Trap (The Hunt #3) Page 29

Of course I have, I’m about to say, but the words choke up inside me.

She speaks, and her voice quivers with anger. “Why did you bring me? From the Palace into the metropolis? You say it was because you needed help. That’s not true, is it?” Her eyes pierce into mine. “Because in the metropolis, I’m a liability. You would have been better off without me.”

She folds her arms in front of her chest, then unfolds them, stuffing her hands into her pockets. She doesn’t know what to do with them. They are like her emotions, her thoughts, unable to find a place to alight. “At first, I thought it was because you just wanted us to be together. Because you wanted me. But then yesterday, when you didn’t take the shot, you hung me out to dry. You just about killed me.”

“No, Sissy, I—”

“Stop, Gene.” And she turns away, walks out of the shade and into the sunlight.

I follow after her. No words. Just my feet, taking me toward her. She spins to face me before I reach her. She’s standing in the white purity of day; I’m in the shadows.

“I know why you brought me with you.” Her eyes shimmer with angry, pained tears. “You need my blood. It’s not me you want. Just my blood.”

“Sissy—”

“I suspected all along. But I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. Held out believing, hoping that you’d actually take down Ashley June and kill off my suspicions.”

“Sissy, please—”

“And you know what, Gene?” Her voice hitches with a raw intensity that can only be honesty. “I would have come with you. Even if you’d told me you only wanted me for my blood, that you only needed me for Ashley June, I still would have come.”

All I can do is stare into the sun. Directly into it, wanting the intense whiteness to burn holes into my corneas, wanting pain, needing the punishment.

“I’m sorry, Sissy,” I finally say, my voice strangled and raspy.

She wipes her nose with her fist, her chin tilting up. “I know she gave her life up to save yours. I get it.” Tears glimmer but don’t overflow. “And I would have been fine with it, you wanting to do the same for her. Even if it meant I came second to her. Even then, Gene. But only if you were truthful about that.” She winces. “Because what I can’t live with is dishonesty. Deceit.”

“You’re not second, Sissy.”

“Stop.”

“I was there yesterday to kill her. Please believe me.” I take a step toward Sissy, my hands spread open before me, pleading. “Yes, you’re right. When we left the Palace, my initial plan was to try to re-turn her. Yes, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know how to make you understand. I’m sorry. But I couldn’t take it anymore after a while. The deceiving, the putting you at risk. So I changed my mind. Believe me, Sissy, it became every bit my intent to kill her. You’re not second.”

Her eyes search mine. “So you say. And yet still. You couldn’t take the shot last night,” she says, but softly, without recrimination. I was expecting more anger, reproach, not this sudden gentleness. “You had her in your crosshairs, but you couldn’t pull the trigger.”

I stare down at the ground, unable to look into Sissy’s probing eyes.

“I don’t hate you, Gene, for that. I understand. Because if it were you in her shoes, I wouldn’t have been able to do it, either.” She stares off into the distance, then at the horses. “But it’s the dishonesty. That’s what does me in.” Then her next words. “I can’t trust you anymore.”

“Sissy,” I say. I step toward her. “I’m going to prove it to you. That you’re not second. Somehow, someway, I’m going to show you.”

“You already had your chance,” she says. “You’ve already shown me.”

“Sissy. Please.”

She turns, walks to the carriage.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going back to the Palace for David. There’re two horses. I’ll take one. You take the other, go wherever you want. To the metropolis. Or with me to get David. Or head east alone. It’s your choice. But as for me, I’m going back for David.”

“Sissy, don’t—”

“I can’t desert him, I can’t betray his trust.” Her next words, they sting. “Loyalty is the proof of love.” I know she didn’t say it viciously. But her words hurt all the more for that.

She starts untethering a horse from its collars and traces. Not once does she look at me or say anything. I only know she’s working quickly, will be saddled up and galloping away within a minute.

“Sissy. Come on. Let’s think this through.”

She doesn’t stop, doesn’t even lift her head to me. Her fingers work the straps, unwinding the leather with loud snaps. The horse is almost completely untethered when she stops. But not with indecision. With surprise, with confusion. Her head tilts to the side.

And that’s when I hear it, too.

Hm-m-m-m. Hm-m-m-m.

Coming from just behind me.

Hm-m-m-m. Hm-m-m-m.

On the ground, still sitting in a splash of sunlight where I’d placed it.

The TextTrans. It’s buzzing, shaking the blades of grass around it.

Thirty-six

FOR A FEW seconds, all we can do is stare. Then I’m jumping on the TextTrans, picking it up. It vibrates along the digits of my fingers, along my bones, jolting my whole body. But on the screen are only scrambled characters.

“Is it Epap?” Sissy says, running to me.

“I can’t tell.” I shake the TextTrans as if that might help. “The screen’s all messed up.”

“Try to send something back,” Sissy says.

With shaking fingers, I type EPAP, but it comes out as:

There’s nothing I can do about the garbled letters. I hit SEND. And as if I’ve just hit the OFF button, the TextTrans dies on me. It stops vibrating. The screen powers off.

“No!” Sissy shouts. “What did you do?”

“Nothing! I just hit SEND.”

“What happened?”

I smack the back of the TextTrans. “It was probably just a glitch. Inside circuits dried up in the sunlight, then sent a phantom message in error.”

“Or it could’ve been Epap.”

Before I can reply, the TextTrans comes alive again in my hand, vibrating hard and furious. I almost drop it.

“Gene!”

“I know, I know.” Faces pressed together, we read the screen. And again, I almost drop the TextTrans.

Guys? Is that you, Sissy? Gene?

Sissy and I stare at each other. With thumbs that suddenly seem too big and cumbersome and slow, I type out a reply.

Who is this?

We wait for what seems like an eternity. Then:

Sissy and I glance at each other, eyes hopeful. I type: Resend.

The TextTrans hums, and this time when we read the screen Sissy lets out a cry.

Epap.

I start typing furiously.

Where are you?

Not su_a. In buℓing

You okay?

No. Broke leg.

RU in Convention Center?

No. Tall buℓding. Tallest one ar◦_nd.

Large atrium inside?

Y. l◦ts of glass. And sun.

Good. Coming now.

K. hu_ry.

“He’s in the Domain Building,” I say to Sissy. “Makes sense. Lots of sun inside. A good place to hide.”

Sissy taps her mouth with a curled knuckle, forehead furrowed. She glances at the TextTrans. “How can we be sure it’s Epap?” she says. “What if it’s someone pretending to be him?”

I stare down at the TextTrans, my body chilling over despite the sunshine beating down on me. Sissy’s right. On the other end might be someone who has just finished devouring Epap, and has now lucked upon a way of luring two more unsuspecting hepers.

“The Domain Building’s sun-proofed,” I say. “No dusker would hide in there to lure us. Not in the daytime. It’s got to be Epap.”

But Sissy’s not satisfied. “Daytime will be nighttime in a few short hours.” She rubs the back of her neck. “If we’re going back into the metropolis with night fast approaching, we need to be sure it’s him.” She grabs the TextTrans out of my hands.

I’m coming, Epap. And on your birthday, too.

She stares intently at the screen. “His birthday’s eight months away.”

The TextTrans buzzes. We read the characters before the TextTrans blanks out completely. It will be the last characters to ever appear on the TextTrans finally gone kaput.

Thirty-seven

I HEAD OVER to the carriage. I’m reattaching her horse to the traces when Sissy catches up with me. She stands on the other side of the horse.

“What are you doing?” she says.

“What we are doing.” I pull the leather strap through the latches, hard enough to cause the horse to snort with complaint. “We’re going back for Epap. Together.”

“You don’t—” she begins to say.

“It’s already late afternoon. We don’t have much time. We certainly don’t have time to argue. I’m coming with you. We’re both doing this.”

She stares at me silently. She starts shaking her head. “Gene—”

“By the time we get to the Domain Building, dusk will be almost upon us. We need to slip in and out quickly. Find Epap, then get the hell out.” I reattach the horse collar, fastening it securely. “There’s going to be no room for error. No room to get your bearings, to find your way. I know the Domain Building. You need me.”

Sissy doesn’t say anything, but I feel her eyes scrutinizing my every move. I slide between the two horses, double-check the axle. The carriage is ready. Sissy is still staring at me. I walk to the nearest tree. “Getting fruit for Epap,” I tell Sissy over my shoulder. I pluck a few of the larger dangling fruit, cradle them in the nook of my arm.

I throw the fruit through the window into the carriage. As I walk around to the front, I see no sign of Sissy. She’s not inside the carriage, nor is she standing by the horses. I scan the trees.

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