Josin L McQuein - Arclight

“You mean they just walked through?”

He nods.

“It was a worst-case scenario. Circuits for the Arc are supposed to be isolated, but if things happen in a certain order, the base grid defaults to its original programming, glitches included. The system couldn’t tell the security lights from the room lights.”

“Do you think—”

I can’t bring myself to ask him if it was someone taken during my rescue who told the Fade how to get past our security.

“I think they got lucky,” he says. Mr. Pace puts a hand on my shoulder, but removes it when I flinch. “They’ve always tested us. It was only a matter of time before they found a way in.”

“That’s the difference between us, Pace.” Honoria invites herself into our conversation. “I don’t expect the Fade to find weakness. What I expect is that the people who live here will stick to their assigned places.” She turns her temper on me. “Keep away from the power boxes, they can kill you.”

“I didn’t touch the box,” I say. “I was only hiding behind it.”

“From what?” she demands. “Did you see something?”

“The lights startled me. It was the closest thing to hide behind.”

“Well at least you kept your head. . . .” She never finishes the halfway compliment. Instead, she snatches my burnt wrist up to eye level. “Where’s your bracelet?”

“She got burned in the run,” Mr. Pace says. “I told her to put it on her other arm until she healed.”

I hold up my left arm so Honoria can see the alarm’s really there. Thankfully, she doesn’t test the latch.

“You should have gone to the hospital.”

“I gave her some salve, and told her to keep an eye on it,” Mr. Pace says. “Doc had his hands full. He’d have done the same thing.”

“Why are you out here?” Honoria’s fingers are rough on my ragged skin as she prods the burn and new scrapes.

“It started to bother me, so I put some cold water on it. Then I couldn’t go back to sleep. I smelled the fire, and—”

“From inside?”

I stare back, hoping my expression is as blank as everyone claims. I don’t know what to say, and thinking quickly usually ends with me tripping over my own tongue.

“Her room’s on that side of the building, Honoria,” Mr. Pace says.

“Get that wrist treated before it gets infected,” she says. “And have her window resealed. I won’t tolerate another weak point on this facility, especially not on a priority target.”

Priority target . . . no way is that a good thing.

“And next time you take a stroll outside, wear your gloves. You’ll have a harder time scraping your hands.”

I dig my bare toes into the dirt, thankful she doesn’t look at my feet.

Honoria stalks past us. Mr. Pace gives a heavy sigh.

“You didn’t smell the smoke inside, did you?”

“I could have,” I offer lamely.

“The burn’s been going for hours. If it had bothered you inside . . . please tell me you haven’t been out here for hours.”

Yes, I’m definitely going to kill Tobin. This should be his lecture, too.

“Marina, I know it’s technically safe inside the Arc, and the sun’s only just set, but after last night—”

“Nowhere’s safe.”

“That’s not what I meant.” His hand falls heavy on my shoulder, but this time he doesn’t move it. “The Arclight is safe. Last night was an aberration, but it still happened.”

“Will it happen again?”

“We’re doing what we can to make sure it doesn’t, but we’ve stagnated on drills so long that we forgot the Fade aren’t simply monsters in some children’s story, easily overcome because they’re on the wrong side. They don’t move in the ways most convenient to us. They’re intelligent, and they can plan. Last night, their plans proved superior to ours. Next time we’ll have to be better. And that will be easier if you stay where you’re supposed to be.”

This wasn’t what I had in mind when I left my room. All I wanted was air and open space, not to cause more trouble for people who’ve already given too much to protect me.

“Where’d I come from?” I ask, nudging the edge of his dirt diagram with my toe. “Which side?”

“The short side,” he says. “We found you hiding in the Grey.”

“In the water?”

“Yeah,” he says. “There’s an old boat platform out there. You’d gotten into the water behind the pier supports. We almost missed you.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. We weren’t the only ones who couldn’t find you.”

He heads toward the main building, stopping when I pause to collect my shoes and socks. It’s a harder decision to follow him than it should be. There shouldn’t be anything out here daring me to stay, but there is. An itch I can’t quite reach kicks in every time I turn away from the horizon.

I wonder if this is what it was like for those who came before, if that itch is the first hint of hearing the call to join the Dark.

But I won’t. Not ever.

“I’ll have to scrape it before I can bandage it,” Dr. Wolff says after examining my arm.

Mr. Pace abandoned me promptly upon delivering me to the hospital. I suspect his quick exit had something to do with Dr. Wolff’s dirty looks and muttered promises of unspecified pain for those who thought they were better equipped to treat his patients.

“Hold still” is the only warning he gives, and when he’s done, tiny dots of blood glisten on my skin where he scraped away more than one layer of flesh. But unlike Honoria, Dr. Wolff tries for gentle. “That wasn’t too bad, I hope.”

I grit my teeth, determined not to let the tears show.

“How’s your inhaler?”

“Why won’t it work on anything but my headaches?”

“What else would you need it for?”

“My leg,” I say, kicking it for emphasis.

“You pushed it too hard last night, didn’t you?” he asks.

I shrug. Dr. Wolff isn’t intimidating in the least when he’s not armed with medical instruments, but my throat threatens to close up every time I come here.

“Does it hurt now?” he asks.

“It’s a little sore,” I lie. The echo of pain from my nightmare has plagued me since I woke up.

“You didn’t break the wound open?”

“No,” I say quickly, afraid he’ll decide he needs to examine it again, which will only lead to more questions and a longer stay.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, sir.”

Dr. Wolff eyes me suspiciously for the too-polite answer, but I imagine he’s seen plenty of people acting strange since last night.

“How’s Jove?” I ask, redirecting him.

Several beds are curtained off, so I assume he’s behind one of the partitions, but I’d sort of like to know that what Anne-Marie and I did last night made a difference. It would be nice to be the answer to a problem for once, rather than the cause.

“He’ll be all right,” Dr. Wolff says. “I understand he has you to thank for that.”

“I didn’t do much.”

“Not many people would have made the choice you did.” My face must show my confusion because he explains. “You and Annie kept him from going to into shock. It takes a great deal of compassion to offer aid after someone’s hurt you.”

Somehow I don’t think he’d appreciate my saying I was more concerned with keeping Anne-Marie from losing it than keeping Jove comfortable.

“Jove was scared,” I say. “He thought . . . you know . . . that his mom was one of them. He thought she’d come with the Fade to take him back to the Dark.”

“And he blamed you?”

“He always has.”

“Do you think his opinions have changed?”