Page 66 of The Brightness Between Us

OWL

Chapter 1

The guns pop. Bullets spray the ground with enough force that soil abrades my skin. When the bursts of hot grit reach my eyes, I squeeze them shut and drop to my knees. Instincts doing what they can to keep my body intact.

Have I been shot? I pat my legs, searching for blood. I hear Father bellowing, more popping sounds from inside the settlement. A greenhouse jumps and wiggles as its inflatable walls autoseal after each puncture. I scramble forward, toward the spray of the bullets, then stop. I want to find Yarrow, rescue Yarrow, but Yarrow is the one who did this. He is the one Dad needs rescuing from. And I will die if I walk into a hail of bullets.

My ears are ringing. I try to open my eyes, but the lids drag sharp dirt across my corneas. I close them again and stay on all fours, heaving in air.

What the fuck.

A hand on my back. I whirl with my spear, blind. “It’s me,” Father says. “Owl, it’s me. Come on. We have to go.”

My brain catches up. The perimeter guns continue their popping. The gate unclicks.

Father lets go of me, and I can feel the ground vibrate as he heaves his large body upright. “Stop right there!” he shouts.

“What is it? What is it?” I splutter, my breath coming out in such fast gasps that I’m lightheaded.

“Owl, we have to go. He’s coming after us.” Father’s hand is back on my tunic, and he hauls me into the air. I barely get my feet under me so as not to sprawl back on the ground.

“Ambrose is hurt,” I hear OS say through Rover. “He needs help. I disconnected immediately from the altered settlement network, and I’m not afraid of bullets. I will go.”

“Help him, go! Stop Yarrow,” Father cries.

He doesn’t say anything more, just hauls me like a sack of soil. I lose my footing again and drag through the dirt. I can’t keep my eyes open; they stream hot tears whenever I try. “Where is he... what’s happened to Dad?!” I ask.

“Shh. Yarrow’s tailing us,” Father says. Then he’s lifted my legs, too, and he’s carrying me in his arms, like a baby. He breaks into a run. I jostle against his chest. “Your arms... put them... around my neck,” he gasps.

I link my hands around the back of Father’s neck. And I cry.

“Is Dad dead?” I manage to say. I say it again: “Is Dad dead?”

Pops of a gun. Not the regular tattoo of the pneumatic guns but random, scattered shots.

A human firing at us. Yarrow isfiring at us.

Father doesn’t break his stride. Since it’s him, it’s possible he’s been shot and is keeping right on going.No, Owl, you’d feel the vibration of the bullets hitting his body.

Finally, even Father has to slow. “I’m going to put you down, okay, my love?” he says.

He releases one arm, so my feet contact the soil. I try to open my eyes, and this time I can. The world is blurry and the outlines of everything are crackled and sharp, but I can see.

“He’s far behind, and not moving toward us anymore,” Father says. “Rover must have stopped him. Or at least delayed him.”

“Why did he do it, Father? I don’t understand.”

He sighs. “I don’t understand, either. I wish I did.”

“Is Dad okay?”

“He was shot. Yarrow shot him. I watched it.”

My vision is too bleary for me to make out much of Father’s face, except that it is still. Very still. His only movement is the heaving of his chest. “I don’t understand any of this,” I say.

“I’m sorry, little one,” he says between gulps of air. “We can’t stop and think until we’re in a secure location. Wehave to keep moving. There’s no getting past the perimeter fence, and Yarrow has a gun. I’m keeping you alive.” He starts forward, my hand in his. “Can you see well enough to walk?”

My answer is to walk.

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