to her backpack. “Sorry. You rolled out of my shadow land,” she explains.
I rush to her and hug her. “Holy shit! You did it! Your shadow saved us!” I laugh and start jumping up and down with her in my arms. She squeezes me back, jumping up and down too.
“We did it! We did it!” she squeals. I don’t know when we stop jumping and stand there crying in each other’s arms, but I eventually wipe my eyes on my sleeve and pull away from her.
“We have to go.”
“Put on the terrain outfit,” she orders. “It’s made from that same fabric as the camouflage blankets you asked me to get.” As I locate them among my gear, she adds, “You can change the setting on the clothing. See, just press these buttons and it can make different patterns.” She demonstrates the settings. “The camouflage setting is probably the best here. I packed you terrain shoes, and night-vision glasses.”
We change quickly. I braid my hair while Phlix locates the compass. With our night-vision glasses, we pore over the laminated terrain map. “We can’t waste time. We have to get as far away from here tonight as possible. They’re going to figure out where we’re going.”
Phlix goes to my backpack and pulls out a dark cap. “Here, wear this. Your hair is like a beacon,” she says. “And don’t worry so much. We have me. I can hide us.”
“You can hide us for about a part and a half,” I reply.
“That is plenty of time to lose anyone.”
Not Cavars, I think, but I don’t say it out loud.
We mount up on our flipcarts, and I lead the way through a path that takes us by incredible views of the valley below. I try not to think about the fact that New Amster is down there somewhere in the darkness. I hope for our sakes that they’re not thinking about us either.
Riding a flipcart is fairly easy under normal circumstances: flat terrain, few tree branches to slap me in the face, and the agility that comes with not having a thirty-pound backpack. Now, though, we have to make frequent stops to rest, stretch our backs, rehydrate, and check our course. Just before dawn, the two of us are so tired that we can hardly stay on our flipcarts.
“We have to find a safe place to sleep,” I say. “Keep your eyes open for a cave or something that will hide us from aircraft.”
Not long after, Phlix spots a fallen tree. It’s one of those enormous trees that a city bus could drive through easily without hitting traffic on the other side. The tree has fallen against a rock formation, forming a lean-to of sorts. “What do you think?” she asks wearily.
“I say yes. I say hang up a camouflage blanket over this branch and it is lights out.”
We place our gear against the rock and spread out a blanket. We drape our remaining blanket over a low branch before we climb inside and pull the blanket over the opening to conceal our presence. Phlix rummages in her backpack, then she tosses me a protein bar. It tastes exactly like the ones I ate before when I journeyed here with Trey, except now it doesn’t just taste like cat poop. It tastes like cat poop and freedom. I eat every bite without complaint.
“Do you want me to take the first watch?” she asks like she might die if she has to stay awake a second longer.
“No. We both sleep.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?” she asks.
“We’re either caught or we’re not—dead or we’re not. We don’t have any weapons and your shadow land only works if you’re awake to use it, so . . . we don’t have to worry about it.”
“Okay.” She yawns. “You make dying in my sleep not sound so bad.”
“There are worse things, huh?”
I awake to a deep, rumbling growl close to our tree fort. It makes every hair on my body stand on end. I don’t move other than the widening of my eyes. I stare at Phlix. She heard it too, if the look of terror in her blue eyes is any indication. Something big snuffles around the base of the fallen tree only meters from us. Phlix’s hand finds mine when the beast outside howls so loud it shakes dry, dead needles from the branches above our heads. Something heavy crashes against the other side of the tree trunk. The ground shakes. Phlix squeaks, scrunching her eyes tight. Frozen, not