Nick James - Skyship Academy

The windows filled with the sprawling darkness of the Fringes. The cabin lights flickered off for a brief moment as the temperature control kicked in. He felt a vibration in his pocket. His com-pad beeped.

He reached for it, glancing down at the front screen. Madame’s code flashed in tiny numbers, on and off in rhythm with the beeping.

Don’t let them transfer Fisher, she’d said. He was pretty sure escaping on the Chute was worse than being transferred.

He hit the button on the side of the com-pad to silence it, staring at the numbers as they flashed noiselessly. If he didn’t answer, she’d know there was trouble. If he did, he’d have to explain the situation. Or lie. She’d see through a lie.

Before he had a chance to make up his mind, the numbers disappeared and the screen went dead. He took a deep breath, realizing what he’d just done. If she wanted to track him, it’d be easy enough to activate the microchip inside of the device. She’d probably already done so.

He wasn’t scared of her. He couldn’t be. She was like a mother to him. Like a mother, but not really.

No, she was a member of the Unified Party first and foremost. He’d seen a glimpse of it back on Atlas, a peek into the things she didn’t talk about… the choices the country had been forced to make after the bombings. He couldn’t deal with her right now-not while he still needed to capture Fisher. Let her call him when he had some good news. Talking would only complicate things-cause him to second-guess himself.

He couldn’t face her empty-handed.

He put the com-pad back in his pocket, forgetting it.

Two hours-two hours to think of something, some way to capture Fisher without getting the government involved.

He glanced over to the blue-haired girl, bobbing her head to the music, eyes shut. So unaware.

He loosened his collar, cursing himself once more before reclining in the seat and closing his eyes. Focusing.

The girl I’ve been in love with for almost three years is working for the enemy.

An hour into our journey, I pass the time by slowly unraveling a thread from a hole in the arm of my school suit. Then I start to play with the gauze around my shoulder. It itches. I decide to take it off and stuff it into my pocket. Underneath, my skin is as smooth as it ever was. Weird.

Whatever they did to us before chucking us into the cell certainly did the trick.

Avery’s slumped over, fast asleep with her head on my shoulder. Normally I’d be mass psyched about this little turn of events, but not now. Not with so much to think about.

She’s working for the enemy, the Unified Party-the group everyone’s warned me about since I was a kid.

She’s clever, that’s for sure. She fooled the faculty. She fooled me. Yet somehow I don’t think it’s all an act. Maybe with the rest of them, but not with me.

My mind rockets back to the day we first met. I was at Lookout Park, hiding behind the thickest tree I could find, pressed up against the protective dome. August Bergmann and his cronies had threatened to stuff me into one of the supply lockers and rig it shut. I’d slipped away after class, pressing through the crowd of students into the elevators before they could come after me. I spent the next period squeezed behind the tree. Not my proudest moment.

Then I heard her. “Hey kid,” she’d said. I looked up and there she was, perched in the branches like some crazy animal. I’d never seen a girl like her before. Turned out she was skipping class too, though not for the same reason as me. We spent the next hour talking. She seemed to understand it all-the big picture. She knew everything I was going through.

Now I understand it. She’d been spying on me before that conversation. She did know everything about me, maybe more than I knew myself. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that she’d cared enough to comfort me. Nobody else had.

Before meeting Avery, I’d had to make do with my teammates. Skandar’s cool, but never really understood things like she did. And Eva… Eva obviously had ulterior motives.

I do my best not to move, taking light breaths so I won’t wake her. Most of the passengers in our car have fallen asleep, too. I don’t blame them. There’s nothing to see outside beyond the darkness. Twice we’ve passed tiny Fringe Towns with one or two makeshift lanterns perched on tall wooden posts. The lights whipped by so fast that I barely noticed them. It’s better that way. After what happened back in Syracuse, I’m not too eager to try my luck again in the Fringes.

Then something hits the window on the far end of our cabin, breaking the stillness. My shoulder jerks back into the seat. The poor old woman across from us pops up with a start, looking around.

Avery shifts in her seat. I freeze, hoping that she won’t wake up. Too late.

Another microsecond and the noise rattles the window once more. Then again. Again.

A volley of rocks batter the outside of the Chute like maniacal, heavy rain, pelting the windows. The cabin jostles, waking up those who weren’t already alert. Muted shouts of anger echo outside.

A second later and it’s gone.

Avery’s head darts up from my shoulder. She looks at me with groggy eyes. “What’s happening?”

“Fringers,” I respond, “I think. Throwing rocks.”

“Oh,” she yawns. “I woke up for that?”

“Probably their goal,” I say. “I mean, it’s not like they were going to stop the Chute.”

She glances over to my shoulder. “Did I-I mean-”

“Yeah,” I reply.

The captain’s voice comes over the intercom, letting us know that everything’s going to be okay, that we just experienced a bit of Fringe turbulence. People chuckle. Me, not so much.

Being forced into a burning brick wall by a trio of bloodthirsty teenagers? Now that’s Fringe turbulence.

Focus gave way to exhaustion as Cassius’s eyes struggled to stay open. He was about to drift into sleep when the pain hit him again. Same as the Lodge and the Academy, like an eighteen-wheeler was being driven through his chest.

His eyes darted open automatically. His thoughts lagged behind, more annoyed than concerned.

Now? Just when he was about to get some sleep?

But as his sleep-addled mind began to clear, annoyance turned to panic. Now? On this train with nowhere else to go?

The medication had kept him safe up to this point. Its effects must have expired. Tightening his lips to keep any noise in, he felt around in his pocket for the small envelope of pills Madame had given him. He found it almost immediately, pressed tightly against his warming body. Only two left.

Realizing he needed water, he fought through the pain and stood up, staggering through the length of the cabin toward the bathroom door on the opposite side. The light above shone green. It was unoccupied.

Pushing into the bathroom, he shut the door behind him and leaned against it, breathing hard. His heart leapt out of his chest, speeding up with every second, trying to break free. Soon it would match the pace of the Chute. Not again. Not now.

He stumbled to the miniature silver sink in the corner and poured the two white pills from the envelope, cradling them in his palm.

Out of nowhere the room began to shake. Something pelted the outside of the wall. Rain? No, it was impossible. It hardly ever rained in the Fringes.

The noises grew louder. Something heavy rocked the right wall of the bathroom, tilting the ground up beneath his feet. Before he could prevent it, his hand flew into the air. The pills scattered, landing in the sink. Clank. Clank.

He panicked, watching as they danced around the outline of the drain before disappearing into the dark hole.