loud. “Safe” had become nothing more than a syllable. What could it mean, here in the Ark, in this maze of bones in which Kip lay dead and the empty tanks waited?
“What are you doing?” Zach said again as I lifted the bright lantern. The river’s churning in the pipes seemed to grow louder in my head. Piper stood behind Zach, keeping his knife trained on him.
I weighted the lantern carefully in my hand while I looked down at Zach.
“When we were split,” I said, “I took the branding and the exile for you. You knew I’d do it, to protect you. And I’ve been protecting you, one way or another, ever since then. That ends now.” I raised the lantern high. “There’ll be no more tanks here. And you’re not getting the last pieces of the blast machine either.”
I stared right into Zach’s eyes. “You think you know me?” I said. “You don’t know me at all.”
I glanced to Piper. We knew each other well enough, I prayed, for him to see what was coming.
“Run,” I said.
I threw the lantern. Not at Zach, or even at the tanks. But at the ceiling, where the smaller pipes clung to the bottom of the huge central water pipe.
The air above us shattered into sound and light. The blast knocked me onto my back, hand raised to shield my face. Piper had dived to the side when he saw the lantern’s trajectory. Zach was slower to react and was propelled backward by the explosion, crashing into one of the tanks.
After the wave of heat there was a shriek of scraping glass, and the two empty tanks closest to the blast collapsed into themselves. A third tank stayed upright, but the glass had become opaque, a lacework of fissures. I looked up at the central pipe. Where the blast had hit and the smaller pipes had ruptured, a dark hairline crack was visible. Water dripped through it. The drops were speeding up, keeping time with my pulse.
Zach scrabbled back to his feet. The broken glass had left a small cut on his temple, and his face was white with dust. “That’s it?” I could hardly hear him, my ears still echoing from the explosion. “You’ve managed to break three tanks. That’s your grand gesture?”
When the pipe burst open, the water drowned his laughter. The river had come to claim us.
chapter 37
Zach was knocked backward and swept toward the door. He grabbed at the door handle and staggered to his feet, gasping. It took him only seconds to jab at the metal panel, and then a green light flashed and the tumblers slid back. As soon as he began to push the door open, the force of the water tore it from his grasp and slammed it against the wall of the corridor. He looked back at me one more time, but the water was already approaching his waist. A whole section of the overhead pipe tore loose, smashing two more tanks as it fell. The green lights on all the panels began to flash, a synchronized blinking that set the whole room shimmering, green stars on black water. Then the lights turned red, and disappeared, so that the only light came from beyond the door though which Zach had run.
There was nothing else to do. Our footsteps on the metal gangway were almost drowned out by the torrent of water. By the time we reached the missing grille, the water was already grasping at our feet. Somewhere behind us, I knew that the dark water would be scooping up Kip’s body. I didn’t look back. I hauled myself into the tunnel, and heard the banging as Piper followed me.
Our whole time in the Ark, I’d been able to feel the river above us. Now, as we crawled, heaving ourselves up the incline of the tunnel to the next level, I could feel the river below us, too, filling every space it could find.
We reached the next level just before the water, but I knew that our cramped progress through the tunnels would be too slow to save us. When we got to the grate that we’d dislodged the day before, I dropped back down to the corridor. Here, the lights were still on, but soon water was clutching at my ankles. The cold of the river was sharp, even through my boots. Then the ceiling lights spat blue sparks, and went out. In the dark, Piper was only a sound of splashing beside