The One

CHAPTER 13

I COULDN’T TELL HOW LONG we’d been traveling, but I was very aware of every move the giant truck made. Maxon, in an effort to keep us stable, had pushed his back against the shelf and braced a leg across me on the wall, caging me in. But even with that, we both slid a bit against the metal floor at every turn.

“I don’t like not knowing where I am,” Maxon said, trying to secure us again.

“Have you ever been out in Angeles before?”

“Only in a car,” he confessed.

“Is it strange that I feel better going into a den of rebels than I did when I had to entertain the women of the Italian royal family?”

Maxon laughed. “Only you.”

It was hard talking over the rumble of the engine and the squeal of the wheels, so we were quiet for a while. In the dark, the sounds felt bigger. I inhaled deeply, trying to focus myself, and noticed a hint of coffee in the air. I couldn’t tell if it was some lingering scent in the truck or if we were passing a shop on the road. After what felt like a very long time, Maxon put his lips to my ear.

“I wish you were safe at home, but I’m really glad you’re here.” I laughed quietly. I doubted he could hear it, but he probably felt it, we were so close. “Promise me that you’ll run though.”

I decided that I’d be of no help to Maxon if something really bad happened anyway. I searched and put my mouth by his ear. “I promise.”

We went over a pretty jarring bump, and he grabbed me. I felt our noses brush in the dark, and the urge to kiss him came unexpectedly fast. Though our kiss on the roof had only been three days ago, it felt like an eternity. He held me close, and I could feel his breath on my skin. It was coming; I was sure of it.

Maxon used his nose, nudging at my cheek, bringing our lips closer together. The same way I could smell coffee and hear every tiny squeak in the dark, the lack of light made me focus on the clean scent that hung around Maxon, feel the pressure of his fingers moving up my neck to the wisps of hair peeking out from under my cap.

In the second before our lips touched, the truck came to an abrupt stop, flinging us forward. I knocked my head against the wall, and I was pretty sure I felt Maxon’s teeth against my ear.

“Ow!” he exclaimed, and I felt him adjusting his position in the dark. “Are you hurt?”

“No. My hair and the hat took most of it.” If I hadn’t wanted that kiss so badly, I would have laughed.

As soon as we’d stopped, we started moving slowly in reverse. After a few seconds, the truck halted again and the engine cut off. Maxon switched positions, and it felt as if he was ducking low in a crouch, facing the door. I got into a similar position as one of Maxon’s hands come back to protect me, just in case.

The light of the streetlamp coming into the cabin was shocking, and I squinted against it as someone climbed into the back of the truck.

“We’re here,” said Officer Avery. “Follow me closely.”

Maxon stood and extended a hand to me. He let go to hop out of the truck, then reached up to help me down and immediately slid his hand back into mine. The thing I noticed right away was the large brick wall cornering us in the alley, followed by the stinging smell of something rotting. Aspen was standing in front of us, looking around intently, a gun held low in his hand.

He and Avery started moving toward the back entrance of the building, and we kept close to them. The walls surrounding us were high and reminded me of the apartment buildings back home with their fire escapes snaking down the sides, though this didn’t seem like an area where people lived. Aspen knocked on the grime-covered door and waited. It cracked open, a small chain there to protect whoever was inside. But I saw August’s eyes before the door was quickly shut again. The next time, it opened wide, and August ushered in all of us.

“Hurry,” he said quietly.

In the shadowy room was a younger boy and Georgia. I could see she was just as anxious as we were, and I couldn’t stop myself from bolting across the room to embrace her. She held me back, and I was happy to find I’d acquired an unexpected friend.

“Were you followed?” she asked.

Aspen shook his head. “No. But you should be quick.”

Georgia pulled me over to a small table, and Maxon sat next to me, with August and the younger boy beside him.

“How bad is it?” Maxon asked. “I have a feeling my father is keeping the truth from me.”

August gave a surprised shrug. “As best we can tell, the numbers are low. The Southerners are doing their typical destruction, but as far as the attacks on Twos specifically, it looks like it’s less than three hundred people.”

I gasped. Three hundred people? How could that be deemed low?

“America, it’s not that bad, all things considered,” Maxon comforted me, taking my hand again.

“He’s right,” Georgia said, her face warm. “It could have been so much worse.”

“It’s what I would expect from them: starting at the top and working their way down. We’re guessing they’ll pick it up before too long,” August interjected. “It looks like the attacks are still isolated on the Twos, but we’re watching and will alert you if or when that changes. We’ve got allies in every province, and they’re all trying to keep watch. But there’s only so much they can do without exposing themselves, and we all know what would happen if they did.”

Maxon nodded soberly. They’d die, of course.

“Should we cave?” Maxon suggested. I looked over at him, surprised.

“Trust us,” Georgia said. “They’re not going to get any better if you give in.”

“But there must be something more we can do,” Maxon insisted.

“You’ve already done something pretty empowering. Well, she did,” August said, dipping his head in my direction. “From what we’re able to tell, farmers are keeping their axes with them if they leave their fields, seamstresses walk the street with scissors clutched in their hands, and you’ll see Twos parading around with disarming spray. No matter the caste, everyone seems to have found some way to arm themselves, just in case. Your people don’t want to live in fear, and they’re not. They’re fighting back.”

I wanted to cry. For maybe the first time in all of the Selection, I’d done something right.

Maxon squeezed my hand, proud. “That’s a comfort,” he said. “Still, it doesn’t feel like enough.”

I nodded. I was so happy the public wasn’t rolling over, but there had to be a way to stop this once and for all.

August sighed. “We’ve wondered if there was a way for us to attack them. They’re not fighting with any sort of training—they just go after people. Our supporters are nervous about being identified, but they’re everywhere. And they might be the best source for a surprise assault.

“In many ways, we’re already an army of sorts, but we’re essentially unarmed. We can’t possibly beat the Southerners when the majority of our forces fight with bricks or rakes.”

“You want weapons?”

“Wouldn’t hurt.”

Maxon considered this. “There are things you can do that we simply can’t from the palace. But I don’t like the idea of sending any of my people on a mission to take out these savages. Certainly they would die.”

“That’s possible,” August confessed.

“There’s also the small issue of me not being able to guarantee you won’t use any weapons I give you against me eventually.”

August snorted. “I don’t know how to make you believe that we’re on your side, but it’s true. All we’ve ever wanted was to see an end to the castes, and we’re prepared to support you to that end. I have no intentions of ever harming you, Maxon, and I think you know that.” He and Maxon shared a very long look. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here now.”

“Your Majesty,” Aspen said. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but there are some of us who would like to see the Southern rebels gone as much as you would. I would personally volunteer to train anyone in something more along the lines of hand-to-hand combat.”

My chest swelled with pride. That was my Aspen, always trying to fix things.

Maxon nodded at him before turning back to August. “That’s something I’ll need time to think about. I might be able to provide training, but I couldn’t arm you. Even if I was sure of your intentions, if there’s any link between us, I can’t imagine what my father would do.”

Without thinking, Maxon flexed the muscles across his back. It seemed to me that maybe he’d done that a lot in the time I’d known him, only I hadn’t understood its meaning. Even now he was hyperaware of his secret.

“True. In fact, you should probably already be leaving. I’ll get word to you as soon as we have more information, but for now it looks good. Well, as good as we could hope for.” August passed Maxon a note. “We have one landline. You can call if there’s something urgent. Micah here, he’s on top of those things.”

August motioned to the boy who hadn’t made a sound the whole time. He pulled his lips into his mouth like he might be biting them and gave us a small nod. Something about his stance suggested he was both shy and eager at once.

“Very good. I’ll use it with discretion.” Maxon placed the paper in his pocket. “I’ll be in touch soon.” He stood and I followed suit, looking over at Georgia as I did so.

She came around the table to me. “Be safe getting back. And that number is for you, too, you know.”

“Thank you.” I gave her a quick hug and headed out with Maxon, Aspen, and Officer Avery. I took one last glance at our strange friends before the door closed and was bolted behind us.

“Get away from the truck,” Aspen said. I turned to see what he meant, as we weren’t even close yet.

Then I saw that Aspen wasn’t talking to me. A handful of men were circling the vehicle. One had a wrench in his hands, looking as if he was about to try and steal the tires. Another two were at the back, trying to open the metal doors.

“Just give us the food, and we’ll go,” one said. He looked younger than most of the others, maybe Aspen’s age. His voice was cold and desperate.

I hadn’t noticed back at the palace that the truck we were jumping into had a massive Illéa emblem on the side. As I stood there looking at the small crowd of haggard men, this seemed like an incredibly stupid oversight. And while Maxon and I weren’t dressed like ourselves, that wouldn’t help very much if anyone got too close. Even though I wouldn’t have known the first thing to do with one, I wished I had a weapon.

“There is no food,” Aspen said calmly. “And if there was, it wouldn’t be yours to take.”

“How well they train their puppets,” another man remarked. As he gave us an amused smile, I could see that a few of his teeth were missing. “What were you before they turned you into this?”

“Step away from the truck,” Aspen ordered.

“You couldn’t have been a Two or a Three; you’d have bought your way out. So come on, little man, what were you?” the toothless man taunted, stepping closer.

“Back. Away.” Aspen put one hand in front of himself, reaching down toward his hip with the other.

The man stopped, shaking his head. “You don’t know who you’re messing with, boy.”

“Wait!” someone said. “That’s her. That’s one of the girls.”

I turned my head to the voice, giving myself away.

“Get her!” the young one said.

Before I could even think, Maxon jerked me back. I saw a blur of Aspen and Officer Avery pulling out their guns as my head got whipped around by the force of Maxon’s strong arms. I was moving sideways, stumbling to keep up while Aspen and Avery held the men at bay. Quickly, Maxon and I were against the brick wall, trapped.

“I don’t want to kill you,” Aspen said. “Leave. Now!”

The toothless man chuckled darkly, his hands raised in front of him as if he meant no harm. In a move so fast I nearly missed it, he reached down and drew a gun of his own. Aspen fired, and shots came in return.

“Come on, America,” Maxon said urgently.

Come where? I thought, my heart pounding in terror.

I looked at him and saw that he had laced his fingers together, making a cradle for my foot. Suddenly understanding, I put my shoe in his hands, and he pushed me up as I grappled at the wall for some stability. I reached the top, and I felt something funny in my arm as I crawled over.

I ignored it as I pulled my body across the ledge, lowering myself as much as I could before dropping to the concrete. I fell to the side, positive I’d messed up my hip or leg; but Maxon had instructed me to run if I was in danger, so I did.

I didn’t know why I assumed he would be right behind me, but when I reached the end of the street and he wasn’t there, I realized no one would be free to give him a boost. In that moment, I noticed that funny feeling in my arm was starting to burn. I looked down, and in the faint glow of a streetlight, I saw something wet coming from a rip in my sleeve.

I’d been shot.

I’d been shot?

There were guns and I was there, but it didn’t seem real. Still, there was no denying the searing pain that was growing bigger every second. I cupped my hand over the wound, but that made it worse.

I looked around. The city was still.

Of course it was. We were out well after curfew. I’d gotten so used to the palace that I’d forgotten that the world outside stopped after eleven.

If an officer came by, I’d be thrown in jail. How was I supposed to explain that to the king? How are you going to talk away a bullet wound, America?

I started moving, staying to the shadows. I had no idea where to go. I didn’t know if trying to get back to the palace was a good idea. Even if it was, I didn’t know how to get there.

God, the burning. It was hard to think. I made my way past a narrow backstreet between two apartment buildings. That alone told me I wasn’t in the best part of town. Generally, only Sixes and Sevens had to squeeze into apartments.

There was nowhere for me to go, so I walked down the poorly lit alley, tucking myself behind a tight pack of trash cans. The night was cool, but it had been a typical hot Angeles day, and the stink was rising from the metal bins. Between the smell and the pain, I felt myself on the edge of vomiting.

I peeled off my right sleeve, trying not to irritate the wound any more than necessary. My hands were trembling, either from fear or adrenaline, and just bending my arm made me want to scream. I bit my lips together to keep the sound in, but even with that my muffled whimpers escaped into the night.

“What happened?” a tiny voice asked.

I jerked my head up, looking for the source. There were two glittering eyes in the darker depths of the alley.

“Who’s there?” I asked, voice trembling.

“I won’t hurt you,” she said, crawling out. “I’m having a bad night, too.”

The girl, maybe fifteen if I had to guess, crept out of the shadows and came to look at my arm. She sucked in a breath at the sight.

“That looks really painful,” she said sympathetically.

“I got shot,” I blurted, ready to cry. It burned so badly.

“Shot?”

I nodded.

She looked at me hesitantly, like maybe she should run away. “I don’t know what you did or who you are, but you don’t mess with rebels, okay?”

“Huh?”

“I haven’t been out here long, but I know that the only people who can get guns are rebels. Whatever you did to them, don’t do it again.”

In all the times they’d attacked us, I’d never considered that. No one was supposed to have a gun unless they were an officer. Only a rebel would be able to get around that. Even August had just said the Northerners were essentially unarmed. I wondered if he’d been carrying tonight.

“What’s your name?” she asked. “I know you’re a girl under there.”

“Mer,” I said.

“I’m Paige. Looks like you’re new to being an Eight yourself. Your clothes are pretty clean.” She was turning my arm gently, looking at the oozing wound as if she could do something even though we both knew better.

“Something like that,” I hedged.

“You can starve out here if you’re alone. You got anywhere to go?”

I shuddered with a roll of pain. “Not exactly.”

She nodded. “It was just my dad and me. I was a Four. We had a restaurant, but my grandma had made some rule that he was supposed to leave it to my aunt when he died, not to me. I think she was worried my aunt wouldn’t have anything or something like that. Well, my aunt hates me, always has. She got the restaurant, but she got me, too. Didn’t like that.

“Two weeks after Dad died, she started hitting me. I had to sneak food because she said I was getting fat and wouldn’t give me anything to eat. I thought about going to a friend’s house, but my aunt would just be able to come and get me, so I left. I took some money, but not enough. Even if it was, I got robbed my second night out here.”

I looked Paige over as she talked. I could see it, under the growing layer of grime. There was a girl in there who used to be very well taken care of. She was trying to be tough now. She had to be. What else was there for her?

“Just this week I found a group of girls. We work together and share all the profits. If you can forget what you’re doing, it’s not so bad. I have to cry afterward. That’s why I was hiding back there. If the other girls see you cry, they make my aunt look like a saint. J. J. says they’re just trying to toughen me up and that I better get that way fast, but it still hurts.

“Anyway, you’re pretty. I know they’d be glad to have you.”

My stomach rolled, processing her offer. In what seemed like a few weeks, she’d lost her family, her home, and herself.

And still she was sitting in front of me—a girl who’d been chased by a pack of rebels, a girl who could be nothing but danger—and she was kind.

“We can’t get you a doctor, but there would be something to ease the pain. And they could get you some stitches from this guy they know. You’d have to work it off though.”

I focused on my breathing. Even though she was distracting, the conversation couldn’t stop the pain.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Paige asked.

“Not when I’ve been shot.”

She laughed, and the ease of it made me laugh a little, too. Paige sat down beside me for a little while, and I was glad I wasn’t alone.

“If you don’t want to come with me, I get it. It’s dangerous and kind of sad.”

“I . . . can we just be quiet for a minute?” I asked.

“Yes. Do you want me to stay with you?”

“Please.”

And she did. Without question, she sat beside me, as silent as a mouse. It felt like an eternity was passing, though it couldn’t have even been twenty minutes. The pain was becoming more severe, and I was getting desperate. Maybe I could get to a doctor. Of course, I’d have to find one. The palace would pay for it, but I had no clue how to get ahold of Maxon.

Was Maxon even okay? Was Aspen?

They were outnumbered, but they were armed. If the rebels recognized me so quickly, did they recognize Maxon, too? If so, what would they do to him?

I sat still, trying to talk myself out of the worry. It was all I could do to focus on myself. But what was I going to do if Aspen died? Or if Maxon—

“Shh!” I ordered, though Paige still hadn’t made a sound. “Do you hear that?”

We both tuned our ears to the street.

“. . . Max,” someone yelled. “Come out, Mer; it’s Max.”

That would have been Aspen’s idea, no doubt, using those names.

I scrambled to my feet and went to the edge of the alley, with Paige right behind me. I saw the truck coming down the street at a snail’s pace, heads poking out of the windows, searching.

I turned around. “Paige, would you want to come with me?”

“Where?”

“I promise you, you’ll have a real job and food, and no one will hit you.”

Her heavy eyes filled with tears. “Then I don’t care where it is. I’ll go.”

I took her with my good hand, my coat sleeve still hanging off the wounded arm. We made our way down the road, sticking close to the buildings.

“Max!” I called as we got closer. “Max!”

The massive truck skidded to a stop, and Maxon, Aspen, and Officer Avery came running out.

I dropped Paige’s hand, seeing Maxon’s open arms. He embraced me, hitting my wound, and I yelled.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I was shot.”

Aspen parted us, grabbing my arm to see for himself. “That could have been a lot worse. We need to get you back and find a way to treat you. I’m assuming we’ll want to leave the doctor out of this?” He looked to Maxon.

“I don’t want her to suffer,” he insisted.

“Your Majesty,” Paige said, dropping to her knees. Her shoulders started shaking like she might be crying.

“This is Paige,” I said, offering nothing else. “Let’s get in the back.”

Aspen lowered a hand to Paige. “You’re safe,” he assured her.

Maxon put an arm around me, escorting me to the back of the truck.

“I was sure it would take all night to find you,” he worried aloud.

“Me, too. But I was in too much pain to get very far. Paige helped.”

“Then she’ll be taken care of, I promise.”

Maxon, Paige, and I crawled into the back of the truck, and the metal floor was strangely comforting as we sped back to the palace.