Prodigy (28 page)

KAEDE WASTES NO TIME. SHE GESTURES TOWARD the fighter jet closest to us and sprints
up the ramp to its cockpit. Shots ring out. June leans heavily against me. I can feel
her strength fading, so I pick her up and carry her close to my chest. The soldiers
who have reached the roof move faster once they see what Kaede’s up to. But she’s
too far ahead of them. I rush us toward the ramp.

The jet’s engine roars to life as we reach the ramp’s first step, and right below
the aircraft, two large exhausts slowly tilt downward to face the ground. We’re gearing
up for a straight shoot into the sky. “Hurry the
hell
up!” Kaede screams from the cockpit. Then she ducks back out of view and spits out
a string of curses.

“Let me down,” June says. She hops back onto her own feet, stumbles, and then straightens
to take the first two steps. I stay behind her, my eyes fixed on the soldiers. They’re
almost here. June manages to reach the top of the ramp and climb into the cockpit.
I hurry halfway up the ramp before a soldier grabs my pant leg and yanks me back down.
Remember balance. Stay on the balls of your feet. Catch him at the right spots.
June’s fighting lesson rushes through my head all at once. When the soldier swings
at me, I duck down, move to his side, and hit him as hard as I can right below his
rib cage. He collapses onto one knee.
Liver blow.

Another two soldiers reach me and I brace myself. But then one of them shrieks, falling
backward off the ramp with a bullet wound to his shoulder. I glance up at the cockpit.
June has Kaede’s gun and is taking aim at the soldiers. I turn back to the steps and
hop up to the top, where June’s already buckled in the middle seat right behind Kaede.
“Get in, already!” Kaede snaps. The engines let out another high-pitched roar. Behind
me, several guards have started climbing up the first few steps.

I leap onto the metal railing lining the edge of the ramp, grab the side of the cockpit,
and push with all my strength. The ramp teeters for a second—then starts toppling
over. Soldiers shout warnings and fling themselves out of the way. By the time it
smashes onto the roof, I’m already in the jet and buckling myself into the last seat.
Kaede slides the cockpit shut. I feel my stomach drop as we shoot straight up off
the roof and above the buildings. Through the cockpit’s glass, I can see pilots rushing
into the jets on nearby buildings as well as the second one sitting on the hospital’s
roof.

“Damn it all,” Kaede spits out from the front. “I’m gonna
kill
them—they got me in my side.” I feel the jet’s exhausts shift. “Hang on. This is
gonna be a wild ride.”

We stop rising. The engines grow to a deafening roar. Then we shoot forward. The world
rushes at us and pressure in my head builds as Kaede pushes the jet faster and faster.
She lets out a whoop. Almost immediately I hear a voice crackling through the cockpit.

“Pilot, you are ordered to land your aircraft immediately.” The speaker sounds nervous.
Must be a jet following us. “We will open fire. I repeat, land immediately, or we
will open fire.”

“Only one jet in the air after us. Let’s fix that. Suck in your breath, guys.” Kaede
turns violently, and I almost black out from the pressure change.

“All you all right?” I call out to June. She says something back, but I can’t hear
her over the roar of the engines.

Suddenly Kaede yanks a knob back and pushes a lever all the way forward. My head slams
into the side of the cockpit. We spin a full hundred-eighty degrees in less than a
second. I see a jet flying straight for us at a terrifying speed. Instinctively I
throw my hands up.

Even June yells out, “Kaede, that—”

Kaede opens fire. A shower of bright light streaks from our jet to the one in front
of us. The engines yank us forward and up. An explosion sounds behind us—the other
jet must’ve gotten hit in the fuel tank or taken a shot straight through its cockpit.

“They’ll be hard-pressed to tail us now,” she shouts. “We’re too far ahead and they
won’t want to cross the warfront. I’m gonna push this baby to its max—we’ll be in
the Republic in a couple of minutes.” I don’t ask how she’s planning to pass through
the warfront without getting shot down.

When I look through the cockpit at the Colonies’ towering buildings, I let out a breath
and slump in my seat. Glittering lights, shining skyscrapers, everything my father
had described to me on the few nights a year that we were able to see him. It’s so
lovely from a distance.

“So,” Kaede says, “I’m not just burning up fuel for nothing, am I? Day—we’re still
heading for Denver?”

“Yes,” I reply.

“What’s the plan?” June still sounds weak, but there’s a burning purpose behind it,
the sense that we’re about to do something pivotal. She can tell that something has
changed inside me.

I feel strangely calm. “We’re headed for the Capitol Tower,” I reply. “I’m going to
announce my support of Anden to the Republic.”

A
COUPLE OF MINUTES TO GET INTO THE
R
EPUBLIC’S
border. That means, at the speed we’re going (easily more than eight hundred miles
per hour; we all felt a sudden pressure change as we broke the sound barrier, like
being dragged out of deep mud), we’re only two dozen or so miles from the warfront
and several hundred from Denver. Day tells me everything that Kaede shared with him,
about the Patriots and the true colors of Razor, about Eden, then Congress’s determination
to oust the Elector. Everything I’d discovered and then some. My head was in a fog
when we’d bolted from the room and made our way up to the hospital roof. Now, after
the cold outside air and the speed of Kaede’s air maneuver, I can calculate details
a little more clearly.

“We’re closing in on the warfront,” Kaede says. The instant those words come out of
her mouth, I hear the distant sound of explosions. They’re muffled, but we must be
thousands of feet in the air and I can still feel the shock each time they go off.
There’s a sudden lift and I press into my seat. She’s trying to push the jet as high
as it can go so we don’t get shot out of the sky by ground missiles. I force myself
to take deep, calming breaths as we continue to climb. My ears pop endlessly. I watch
as Kaede falls into formation with a squadron of Colonies jets. “We’re gonna need
to break from them soon,” she mutters. There’s pain in her voice, probably from her
gunshot wound. “Hang tight.”

“Day?” I manage to call out.

I don’t hear anything, and for a second I think he blacked out. Then he replies, “Still
here.” He sounds detached, like he’s fighting to stay conscious.

“Denver’s a few minutes away,” Kaede says.

We stabilize again. When I peer out of the cockpit down at the pockets of clouds far
below us, I catch my breath. Airships (easily more than a hundred and fifty, as far
as the eye can see) dot the sky like miniature daggers soaring through the air, stretching
in lines off into the horizon. The Colonies’ ships all have a distinct gold stripe
down the middle of their runways that we can see even from way up here. Not far in
front of them is a wide strip of empty airspace where sparks of light and smoke fly
back and forth, and on the other side are rows of airships I can recognize: Republic
ships, marked with a bloodred star on the side of each hull. Jets are raging in dogfights
all over the place. We must be a good five hundred feet above them—but I’m not sure
if that’s a safe enough distance.

An alarm on Kaede’s control board beeps. A voice rings out in the cockpit. “Pilot,
you are not cleared for this area,” it says. (Male, Colonies accent.) “This is not
your squadron. You’re ordered to land on DesCon Nine immediately.”

“Negative,” Kaede replies. She pulls our jet up and keeps climbing.

“Pilot, you are
ordered
to land on DesCon Nine immediately.”

Kaede turns off her mike for an instant and looks back at us. She seems a little too
happy about our situation. “Goddy talker’s following us,” she says in a mock authoritative
tone. “We got two hot on our tail.” Then she flips the mike on again and replies brightly,
“Negative, DesCon. I’m gonna shoot you out of the sky.”

The person in the other plane sounds shocked and angry this time. “Change course and
get this one—”

Kaede lets out an ear-piercing shout. “Split the sky, boys!” She rockets us forward
and up at blinding speed, then goes into a spin. Streaks of light shoot past the cockpit
window—the two jets tailing us must’ve gotten close enough to open fire. I feel my
stomach drop as Kaede goes into a sudden nosedive, killing our engine in the process.
We drop at a pace that turns my vision black and white. I feel myself fading away.

An instant later I jolt awake. I must’ve blacked out.

We’re falling. We’re plummeting to the earth. The airships below us grow in size—it
looks like we’re heading straight at the deck of one of them. No, we’re going way
too fast; we’ll be smashed into pieces. More streaks of light rush past us. The jets
following are diving after us.

Then, without warning, Kaede fires the engines again. They roar to life. She pulls
back hard on a lever and the whole jet spins in a half circle so the nose is facing
up again. I’m almost sucked into my chair at the sudden change. My vision blacks out
again, and this time I have no idea how much time has passed. A few seconds? Minutes?
I realize we’re charging back up into the sky.

The other jets zoom down. They’re trying to pull up, but it’s too late. Behind us,
a huge explosion shakes us hard in our seats—the jets must’ve struck the deck of the
airship with the force of a dozen bombs. Orange-and-yellow fire churns upward from
one of the Colonies ships. We’re now zooming across the empty airspace between the
two countries, and Kaede sends us into another spin that saves us from a barrage of
fire. We cross the airspace and cut through the sky over the Republic’s airships.
One lone Colonies jet, lost in the chaos.
I gape at the scene outside, wondering if the Republic is confused that the Colonies
attacked one of their own jets. If anything, that’s what bought us enough time to
cross the warfront space.

“Best split-S you’ve ever seen, I bet,” Kaede says with a laugh. It sounds more strained
than usual.

Not far from us now are the looming towers of Denver and its forbidding Armor, shrouded
in a permanent sea of smog and haze. Behind us, I hear the first sounds of gunfire
as Republic jets start tailing us in an attempt to shoot us down.

“How are we going to get inside?” Day shouts as Kaede spins the jet, sends a missile
backward, and pushes us to go faster.

“I’ll get us in,” she shouts back.

“We can’t make it if we go overhead,” I reply. “The Armor has missiles lining every
side of that wall. They’ll shoot us down before we ever get across into the city.”

“No city’s impenetrable.” Kaede sends the jet lower even as the Republic jets continue
to pursue us. “I know what I’m doing.”

We’re closing in fast on Denver. I can see the looming gray walls of the Armor rising
up before us, a barricade like nothing else in the Republic, and the heavy gray pillars
(each a hundred feet apart from the next) lining its sides. I close my eyes. No way—no
way
—Kaede can get us over that. A squadron of jets could get over, maybe, and even then
it’ll be a long shot. I picture a missile hitting us and our seats ejecting us out
over the city’s skies, the shots they’ll fire up at our parachutes, our bodies plummeting
to the ground. The Armor is close now. They must’ve seen us approaching for a while,
and their weapons will be trained on us. I bet they’ve never seen a rogue Colonies
jet before.

Then Kaede dives. Not just any dive—she’s headed down at almost ninety degrees, ready
to send us smashing into the earth. Behind me, Day sucks in his breath. The buildings
below rush up at us.
She’s lost control of the jet. I know it. We’ve been hit.

At the last second, Kaede pulls up. We skim above the buildings at mach speed, so
close that the roofs seem like they’re going to rip the bottom right off our jet.
Immediately Kaede starts slowing down the jet, until we’re cruising at a speed barely
fast enough to keep us airborne. Suddenly I realize what she’s going to do. It’s completely
stupid. She’s not taking us over the Armor at all—she’s going to try to squeeze the
jet through the opening that the trains use to pass in and out of Denver. The same
tunnels I’d seen when I’d taken that train ride with the Elector.
Of course.
The surface-to-air missile systems mounted along the Armor’s wall aren’t designed
to take down anything like us from the ground, because they can’t shoot at such a
low angle. And machine guns on the wall aren’t powerful enough. But if Kaede doesn’t
aim exactly right, we’ll explode against the wall and burst into flames. We’re close
enough for me to see soldiers running back and forth on top of the wall of the Armor.
Their communications must be flying fast.

But it doesn’t matter at this rate. One second the Armor’s several hundred feet in
front of us, and the next, we’re hurtling toward the dark entrance of an open train
tunnel.

“Hold on!” Kaede shouts. She pushes the jet lower, as if that were possible. The entrance
yawns at us with its gaping mouth.

We’re not going to make it. The tunnel is way too small.

Then we’re inside, and for an instant the tunnel’s pitch-black. Bright sparks burst
from each end of the jet as the wings tear through the entrance’s sides. A rumbling
sound comes from above us. They’re rushing to shut the entrance, I realize, but they’re
too late.

Another second. We zoom out of the entrance and into Denver. Kaede slams the jet’s
lever the opposite way in an attempt to slow us down even more.

“Pull up, pull
up
!” Day yells. Buildings zip past us. We’re too low to the ground—and heading straight
for the side of a tall barrack.

Kaede veers sharply to one side. We miss the building by a hair. Then we’re down,
really
down. The jet slams into the ground and skids, flinging our bodies forward hard against
our seat belts. I feel like my limbs are ripping off. Civilians and soldiers alike
run out of the way on either side of the street. A few sparks crack the cockpit; it’s
random gunfire, I realize, from shocked soldiers. Crowds line the roads several blocks
away from us—they gape at the jet careening across the pavement.

We finally come to a halt when one of the wings catches the side of a building, sending
us crashing sideways into an alley. I jerk roughly back against my seat. Our canopy
pops open before I can even catch my breath. I manage to undo my seat belt and leap
dizzily up onto the edge of the cockpit. “Kaede.” I’m squinting to see her and Day
through the smoke. “We have to—”

My words die on my tongue. Kaede’s slumped against the pilot seat, her buckle still
wrapped around her. Her pilot goggles sit on top of her head—I guess she never even
bothered to put them on. Her eyes point vacantly at the buttons on her control panel.
A small bloodstain soaks the front of her shirt, not far from the wound she’d received
when we first got into the jet. One of the stray bullets had gone straight through
the canopy and into her when we crash-landed. Kaede, who just minutes ago had seemed
invincible.

For a moment, I’m frozen. The sounds of chaos around me dull, and the smoke covers
everything except me and Kaede’s body strapped into the pilot seat. A small voice
manages to echo through my mind, penetrating the black-and-white fog of numbness,
a familiar, pulsing light that gets me going again.

Move,
it tells me.
Now.

I tear my eyes away, then search frantically for Day. He’s not sitting in the jet
anymore. I scramble onto the edge of the wing and slide down blindly through the smoke
and wreckage until I hit the ground on my hands and knees. I can’t see a thing.

Then, through the smoke, Day rushes up to me. He pulls me to my feet. I’m suddenly
reminded of the first time I’d ever seen him, materializing out of nothingness with
his blue eyes and dust-streaked face, holding out his hand to me. His face is slashed
with agony.
He must’ve seen Kaede too.

“There you are—I thought you’d already gotten out,” he whispers as we stumble through
the jet’s wreckage. “Make for the crowd.” My legs ache. Our crash landing must have
given me head-to-toe bruises.

We pause underneath one of the wrecked wings just as the first soldiers rush to the
jet. Half of them form a makeshift barrier to keep civilians out, their backs turned
to us. Other soldiers shine lights across the smoke and twisted metal, scanning for
survivors. One of them must’ve spotted Kaede because he shouts something at the others
and motions them over. “It’s a Colonies
jet,
” he shouts, sounding incredulous. “A jet made it past the Armor and right into Denver.”
We’re temporarily hidden from view under this wing, but they’ll see us any second
now. The makeshift soldier barricade separates us from the crowds.

All around us and throughout the city are the sounds of breaking glass, roaring fires,
screaming, chanting people—only those closest to our jet’s wreckage seem to realize
that a Colonies jet crashed at all. I glance at where the Capitol Tower looms. Anden’s
voice is ringing from every city block and from every speaker—a live feed of his image
must be broadcasting to every JumboTron in the city . . . and in the nation. I look
on as several furious rioters fling Molotov cocktails at the soldiers. The people
have no idea that Congress is sitting back, waiting for their anger to spill enough
to put Razor in Anden’s place. There’s no way Anden will be able to calm this crowd.
I imagine the same protests sparking up across the country, in every street and city.
If the Patriots had succeeded in publicly broadcasting the Elector’s death from the
Capitol Tower’s speakers, there would already have been a revolution.