Arena Three

But when I look around, to my dismay I find that no one is agreeing with me. I realize in that moment that they’ve changed their minds. Making limited local runs to rescue people is enough for them. Heading across the length of America is too much. Traveling all the way to Texas was never the plan. I feel deflated.

“Like I said,” the Commander replies, noting the complete lack of support anyone is giving me, “you’re free to leave. But you cannot come back.”

I know I should just be happy that, at last, there will be a group of people searching for survivors.

But it’s not enough. Because I can’t help thinking that the person trying to contact us could be my dad, that he could have survived the war just like the Commander did, and started his own group. Even if there’s only a million to one chance that it is him, I have to find out.

And that means leaving Fort Noix.

And if need be, alone.

I breathe in deeply.

“In that case,” I say, “I want to leave.”

The silence would be deafening if it weren’t for the shrill cry of a young girl coming from somewhere at the back of the crowd. It takes me a second to realize that the cry is coming from Bree.

I look over my shoulder and see her pelting through the crowd, making a beeline for me. Guilt swirls inside of me. I once made a promise to her that I would never leave her, and here I am, breaking it to her in the least sensitive way ever, that I’m going to do just that.

She reaches me and flings herself into my lap.

“I don’t understand what’s happening!” she sobs into my chest. “You want to leave? But you’d never be able to come back!” She pulls away, her tear-stained face bright red with emotion. “What about me? Charlie? Ben? What about us?”

I’m about to soothe her and explain my theory about Dad, when Neena pushes her way through the crowd and puts a maternal arm around Bree, as if trying to shield her from the pain I’m causing.

“Come on,” Neena says in hushed tones as she heaves her to her feet. “Let the grown-ups talk. This is no place for a child.”

Bree looks at me through red-rimmed eyes, her bottom lip trembling, then lets Neena lead her away. Ben and Charlie follow them through the crowd, both glaring at me darkly.

My heart breaks as Bree disappears. I feel awful to have caused her pain. I need to explain to her about Dad, about my gut feeling that the message is from him. Once she understands that, she’ll see why I have no choice but to leave.

“Brooke,” General Reece says, “I think you should reconsider leaving. You’d be going to Texas on nothing more than a hunch. I don’t want to lose my best shooter.”

“It’s more than a hunch,” I reply. “Zeke’s right when he said we would have picked the message up sooner if it had been recorded years ago. I’m absolutely certain that message has only just been sent, that they’re all alive. I want to find them.”

“I’m with Brooke,” a voice says and my heart skips a beat

I turn and look over at Ryan. All these months that we’ve been debating isolationism and rescuing survivors, he’s been the person most opposed to my views. He’s always wanted to stop me from leaving, to convince me that it’s better just to stay. Yet now, he’s the first to volunteer to come with me.

“Why?” I ask, astonished.

He smirks. “Because the chances of you changing your mind are nil,” he says. “And I’m not about to let you walk out alone into your death. So that leaves me no other option.”

My stomach flips. That Ryan would do that for me, it’s more than my heart can handle.

“I’m coming too.”

I turn and am floored to see Molly smiling back.

“Unless I’d be a third wheel,” she adds wryly.

“You won’t,” Zeke adds. “Because I’ll be with you all.”

I look from one to the other, relief swelling inside of me that I’m not doing this alone. And gratitude. I am touched that they care about me so much that they’d all risk their lives for me.

“Brooke,” the Commander says, “come to my office tomorrow morning. All of you,” he adds, addressing Zeke, Ryan, and Molly. “We’ll formulate a plan for your departure.”

My stomach flips again at the thought that this is really happening, and that the Commander is going to help me. My whole body is a mixture of excitement and anticipation. After six months of dreaming about leaving this place, it’s finally about to happen.

But there’s something else there too, a deep, hollow sensation inside of me. I realize it’s the thought of leaving Charlie, Ben, and Bree behind. I know they won’t come with me. Bree loves Fort Noix too much, Charlie is her hopelessly devoted shadow who will do anything she asks, and Ben’s too unwell to come even if he wanted to.

But I cannot change my mind now—and I don’t want to. Other survivors might be out there. And among them, I even dare to hope, my father.

I have sealed my fate.

CHAPTER EIGHT