she asked, not so much for the answer, but to keep him talking, to come up with a plan. Something. No matter how small.
“You’re right. I see the way you two are looking at me,” Dr. Swift said, barely penetrating the careening thoughts in her mind. “It may be . . . unpalatable to some. They won’t understand the scope, the benefits.” He rocked on his heels. “But there are plenty who do, and they’re the ones who matter. They know big change requires bold action. They understand it’s the results that matter. And the results speak for themselves. Isn’t that right, Daire?”
For the first time, the man named Daire spoke. “Yes, sir,” he said, giving Dr. Swift a small bow of his head. Oh God. They had convinced at least some of the survivors that this was okay. The sickness was unthinkable.
The man had convinced himself he was improving society, and yet he was profiting off people’s misery.
Next to her, Jak’s mind was definitely whirling. She glanced at him and saw it and even through her fear, her heart calmed. She’d trusted him fifteen years ago, and she trusted him now. Not to survive this, she realized. But to fight, to try. To go down swinging. She’d seen it in his nature, even then, she realized suddenly. He’d curled his fists. It came to her in a flash, the rush of the water filling her head, her mind’s eye conjuring that dreamlike moment. He’d curled his fists. He’d trembled like the rest of them, but he’d curled his fists . . . and she had known.
She met his gaze and time stilled. Deep intensity filled his expression before he glanced backward quickly and then away.
Backward. The falls.
It’s our only way out.
Her stomach dropped. Fear spiked. The water roared, the man in front of them still talking, pacing, evil spilling from his lips. She couldn’t hear him anymore, not over the rush of the falls, the buzzing in her head. Jak took a step closer, two. Harper met his eyes and a strange calm descended.
The man in front of them was not going to let them walk away from this. Not before, and especially not now that he’d shared everything with them. They’d been a loose end before, now they were an extreme liability. He was going to shoot them and whoever else might be working with him—some vast network or so it seemed—would help him dispose of their bodies somewhere in this immense wilderness. They’d never be found, or even if they were, there’d be no evidence about who killed them or why. And if they were never found? Would others believe they’d run away together? Even if they didn’t, how could it be proven? They’d say Jak was a wildcard, unpredictable, uncivilized, and that Harper was unfocused and emotionally unstable—scarred from the trauma of losing her parents and then growing up without a true home. Who could truly say what they’d done or why? They’d look for a while and then . . . that would be that.
The man in front of them knew it too.
But he’d never expect them to jump.
Yes, their only way out was down. Just like the first time. They’d survived once, against all odds, but how likely was it that they could survive something with such meager odds again? Unlikely. Hopeless perhaps. The fall was one thing, the rapids just beyond was another. Treacherous. Deadly. Full of boulders and undercurrents that had taken several lives that she knew of. So why did she feel so hopeful?
Because, they’d survive, or they wouldn’t—together.
Harper curled her fists. Jak’s eyes moved downward. He’d seen. He knew.
Let’s do this. Together. Again.
She was ready, she realized, incredulous at the calm, the peace, she felt. There, standing at the top of a precipice with Jak, about to risk it all, she saw so clearly how incredibly lucky she’d been, when she’d never deemed herself lucky before. So many things had aligned perfectly so she made it out of the wilderness that night. Was it luck though, or more? Fate? A divine hand? Her parents’ loving guidance? She didn’t know. She did know she was intensely thankful, because like Jak, she had survived so she would be there when he arrived in her life for the second time.
Jak. Her Jak. He’d sacrificed his own life to give her hers, and she would not dishonor that by regretting a single moment of it. He had saved her, and she was grateful for