“But—”
“I know that most of these people are well-intentioned,” I say, taking her hand. She turns in her seat, meets my eyes. “They are, for the most part, kind. Curious. Overwhelmed with gratitude and desperate to put a face to their freedom.
“I know this,” I say, “because I always check the crowds, searching their energy for anger or violence. And though the vast majority of them are good”—I sigh, shake my head— “sweetheart, you’ve just made a lot of enemies. These massive, unfiltered crowds are not safe. Not yet. Maybe not ever.”
She takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “I know you’re right,” she says quietly. “But somehow it feels wrong not to be able to talk to the people we’ve been fighting for. I want them to know how I feel. I want them to know how much we care—and how much we’re still planning on doing to rebuild, to get things right.”
“You will,” I say. “I’ll make sure you have the chance to say all those things. But it’s only been two weeks, love. And right now we don’t have the necessary infrastructure to make that happen.”
“But we’re working on it, right?”
“We’re working on it,” Kenji says. “Which, actually—not that I’m making excuses or anything—but if you hadn’t asked me to prioritize the reconstruction committee, I probably wouldn’t have issued orders to knock down a series of unsafe buildings, one of which included Winston and Alia’s studio, which”—he holds up his hands—“for the record, I didn’t know was their studio. And again, not that I’m making excuses for my reprehensible behavior or anything—but how the hell was I supposed to know it was an art studio? It was officially listed in the books as unsafe, marked for demolition—”
“They didn’t know it was marked for demolition,” Ella says, a hint of impatience in her voice. “They made it into their studio precisely because no one was using it.”
“Yes,” Kenji says, pointing at her. “Right. But, see, I didn’t know that.”
“Winston and Alia are your friends,” I point out unkindly. “Isn’t it your business to know things like that?”
“Listen, man, it’s been a really hectic two weeks since the world fell apart, okay? I’ve been busy.”
“We’ve all been busy.”
“Okay, enough,” Ella says, holding up a hand. She’s looking out the window, frowning. “Someone is coming.”
Kent.
“What’s Adam doing here?” Ella asks. She turns back to look at Kenji. “Did you know he was coming?”
If Kenji responds, I don’t hear him. I’m peering out of the very-tinted windows at the scene outside, watching Adam push his way through the crowd toward the car. He appears to be unarmed. He shouts something into the sea of people, but they won’t be quieted right away. A few more tries—and they settle down. Thousands of faces turn to stare at him.
I struggle to make out his words.
And then, slowly, he stands back as ten heavily armed men and women approach our car. Their bodies form a barricade between the vehicle and the entrance into the Sanctuary, and Kenji jumps out first, invisible and leading the way. He projects his power to protect Ella, and I steal his stealth for myself. The three of us—our bodies invisible— move cautiously toward the entrance.
Only once we’re on the other side, safely within the boundaries of the Sanctuary, do I finally relax.
A little.
I glance back, the way I always do, at the crowd gathered just beyond the invisible barrier that protects our camp. Some days I just stand here and study their faces, searching for something. Anything. A threat still unknown, unnamed.
“Hey—awesome,” Winston says, his unexpected voice shaking me out of my reverie.
I turn back to look at him, discovering him sweaty and out of breath as he pulls up to us.
“So glad you guys are back,” he says, still panting. “Do any of you happen to know anything about fixing pipes? We’ve got kind of a sewage problem in one of the tents, and it’s all hands on deck.”
Our return to reality is swift.
And humbling.
But Ella steps forward, already reaching for the—dear God, is it wet?—wrench in Winston’s hand, and I almost can’t believe it. I wrap an arm around her waist, tugging her back.
“Please, love. Not today. Any other day, maybe. But not today.”