Firebrand (22 page)

A
lice brought a couple water canisters for us to share. Jerren took a sip from the first and tried to hand it to Nyla, but she wouldn't take it. “You should share with Thomas,” she said.

“I'm not going to get Plague from a water bottle, Nyla.” As soon as he'd said it, Jerren frowned. He passed the canister to me without another word.

Alice remained standing beside the door. “I've been thinking about Dare. All that time on this ship, and he never showed himself.”

“Are you afraid he's on this ship right now?” I asked.

She snorted. “Not a chance. I've checked every part of that secret compartment. He's not on board. But still—”

She broke off as footsteps pounded along the corridor. Ananias pushed the door open, hitting her. “You should come upstairs,” he said.

Alice rubbed her back. “Now?”

“Yes.”

I pulled myself up and followed Ananias. Cloaked in darkness, the corridor still felt horribly familiar. Even
smelled
familiar. I was relieved to climb the steps and emerge into a fresh breeze and the first faint glow of dawn.

Tarn stood at the wheel. She stared straight ahead, so focused that I assumed she hadn't seen us. The massive sails had been lowered and the ship sliced a clear path through calm sea.

My father was on deck too. Even Dennis and his mother. But they weren't moving at all. They stood at the stern rail, staring at the ship's wake.

Or rather, the ocean behind it.

I sloped across the deck toward them, drawn there by the vessel trailing us by a mile. It was the ship from Sumter, its massive sails unfurled to take advantage of every breath of wind.

Ananias followed me. “It's smaller than this ship,” he said. “Sleeker. Faster.”

When I reached my father, I half expected him to hug me again. Instead he handed me a pair of binoculars.

I didn't raise them to my eyes at first. I was still struggling to make sense of everything that had happened. I wanted just one morning when we could all talk, open up, become a colony again.

It would have to wait.

I adjusted the focus on the binoculars and studied the ship. A group of five men stood at the bow. Each man held a gun.

“Looks like they've found something worthy of their ammunition after all,” Alice said. “And this time there's no Chief to tell them to save their bullets.”

Beside me, Ananias huffed. “We can beat them. You said it: There's no Chief anymore. No Kell, either. That's a reconnaissance ship. Limited range. They can't track us forever. They probably don't even know these waters.”

There was a murmur of agreement from the others. It was the closest we'd come to sounding like a team in days.

But they weren't seeing what I was seeing.

A taller man stepped through the line of guns and took up position at the tip of the bow. He didn't have a telescope anymore, so there was no way he could have known I was watching him. But he seemed to be watching
me
all the same.

Dare raised one colored arm and gave a defiant wave.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS:

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Sincere thanks to:

The entire Dial team: my brilliant and inspiring editor, Liz Waniewski; also Regina Castillo, Jasmin Rubero, Heather Alexander, Lauri Hornik, Kathy Dawson, and Scottie Bowditch.

The park rangers at Fort Sumter—Nate Johnson, Michelle Welker, Olivia Williams, Tommie Williams—for granting me an extended stay, and answering hundreds of the most bizarre questions any visitor has asked. Also the rangers at Fort Moultrie, who were subjected to similar interrogation, and never blinked.

My father- and mother-in-law, Charles and Sandy Odom, who hosted me while I conducted research in South Carolina. And my Charleston insiders, Peggy Mitchem and Mark Hales, who guided me through the city's lesser-known military installations and explained harbor fishing.

St. Louis Public Library and St. Louis County Library, especially the teen librarians. Also the booksellers, teachers, bloggers, and readers who got behind
Elemental
and gave it so much love.

My trusted beta readers: Audrey, Clare, and Christina Ahn Hickey.

Tony Sahara, for the awe-inspiring cover. And Steve Stankiewicz, for the beautiful map.

And my agent, Ted Malawer, a constant source of support and encouragement.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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Antony John (
www.antonyjohn.net
) is the award-winning author of
Five Flavors of Dumb
and
Thou Shalt Not Road Trip
. In this sequel to
Elemental
, the action moves to South Carolina, where he briefly lived. During one memorable trip he visited Charleston Harbor and historical Fort Sumter, the site of the first battle of the Civil War. Fort Sumter is an eerie and awe-inspiring place, isolated and impenetrable, designed to be self-sufficient even during a siege. He couldn't help wondering: What if the attackers weren't humans, but rats? Antony now lives with his family in St. Louis, Missouri.