War Storm (Red Queen) - Victoria Aveyard Page 0,117

here, where will that leave the other slum cities? What will it prove?

That nothing can be done. That these people can’t be saved.

Kilorn notes my unease and nudges my shoulder, if only to snap me out of it. Cameron is, understandably, more concerned with her father.

“Okay,” she says, “just watch where you bleeding step.”

Cole clucks his tongue. “Don’t curse, Cam.”

Without warning, Cameron smiles and throws her long arms around her father’s neck, hugging him tightly. “Kiss Mama for me,” I hear her murmur.

“You’ll kiss her yourself soon enough,” he whispers back, lifting her slightly off the ground. Their eyes shut in unison as they hold on to each other. And this fragile, fleeting moment.

I can’t help but think of my family, so far away. Safe. Tucked up in the mountains, protected by thousands of miles and another country sworn to fight with us. Living with hope for the first time in too many years. It isn’t fair, especially to Cameron, who has survived far worse than I have. But I’m glad I don’t have to shoulder the burden of my family’s safety alongside everything else. I can barely handle the danger to the people I love who are still fighting.

Cameron pulls away from her father first. It’s an act of untold strength. As is letting her go. Mr. Cole steps back, sniffing, looking at his feet. Hiding a sudden redness around his eyes. Tears prick at Cameron too, and she scuffs her boot against the dirty street, kicking up dust in distraction.

“Shall we?” she says, turning to me. Her eyes are wet.

“Let’s climb.”

We watch the city with hawk focus, each of us at a window looking out in a different direction. I wipe at the glass with my sleeve. It only moves the grime around, leaving brown streaks. The attic space fogs with dust every time we move, kicking up another cloud. Kilorn coughs into his hand, a hoarse sound.

“I see smoke on this side, in between those factories,” he says.

At her window, Cameron raises a shoulder. “Autoworks sector,” she replies without turning around. “The assembly lines jammed half an hour ago. The shift will be turned out, and they’ll idle around the gates asking for the day’s wage. Overseers will refuse. Officers will try to keep peace.” She grins to herself. “Big mess.”

“What color is the smoke, Kilorn?” I ask, still scanning my section of horizon. From this height, New Town seems smaller. But just as depressing. All gray and smoggy, hung with low clouds of brutal haze. It pulses, sluggish, the electricity almost overwhelming.

“Uh, normal?” Kilorn sputters. “Gray.”

I huff low in my throat. Eager to get this moving.

“Normal. Just the smokestacks,” Cameron drawls. “Not the signal.”

He shifts, coughing some more. I wince at the hacking sound. “What are we looking for again?”

“Anything that isn’t normal,” I reply through gritted teeth.

“Right,” he grumbles.

On the opposite side of the low room, Cameron taps her knuckles against her greasy window. “You know, maybe this rebellion would be further along if they didn’t rely on teenagers so much.” She tosses a smirk at Kilorn. “Especially ones who can’t read.”

He barks out a laugh, rising to the bait. “I can read.”

“But colors are beyond your bleeding comprehension?” she snaps back with whip quickness.

He shrugs and raises his hands. “I’m just making conversation.”

Cameron scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Because we really need distractions right now, Kilorn.”

I press my lips together, trying not to giggle at them both. “Is this what Tiberias and I sound like when we argue?” I ask with a raised brow. “Because if so, I sincerely apologize.”

Kilorn goes scarlet, flushing, as Cameron quickly turns back to her window, almost pressing her face to the glass.

I missed what was happening with Shade and Farley. Have I missed this too?

“You two are about ten times worse,” Kilorn finally says, his voice a low, rumbling grunt.

At the opposite window, Cameron snorts. “You mean a hundred.”

Grinning, I glance between the pair of them. Both are on edge, even for the circumstances. I try to read the tightness in Kilorn’s shoulders, but the flush still coloring his cheeks is more damning. “I walked into that, didn’t I?” I mutter, turning back to my window.

Behind me, he chuffs out a laugh. “Absolutely.”

Then Cameron slams a hand to her window, hissing. “Green smoke. Weapons sector. Shit.”

Kilorn jumps to her side, drawing his gun. He eyes her, worried. “Why ‘shit’?”

“Weapons sector has the most security,” she says quickly. With even motions, she peels off her jacket, revealing her own gun