Resonance (21 page)

“Take over
how
?”
Simon asked.

“We have people inside. And unlike the Consort guards, our guns fire real bullets.”

“You're going to kill the Consort?” I yelped.

He patted my hand. “Only if they don't cooperate.”

“Oh. Well. What a comfort.”

Monty ignored my sarcasm, turning to Simon. “Once the building's secure, and the Tacet's no longer a threat, they'll bring you and your Original in, make their case.”

“Two Simons won't prove anything.”

Monty forced a grin. “I'd imagine whatever demonstration they put on will be impressive. And once the Chicago Walkers are convinced, word will spread. The Major Consort will have to resign, and we'll be there to fill the vacuum.”

I bolted upright. “That's a terrible plan. Do you really think taking CCM by force and then telling people they're murderers will make them believe you?”

“They will if the evidence is convincing enough.”

“They'll shoot the messenger,” Simon said. “It'll be absolute chaos.”

Monty's smile broadened, a gleeful flash of teeth that set my own on edge. “So be it.”

I looked at Simon. “The Major Consort will step in. They'll decimate us. It'll be a massacre, like Addie predicted.”
You know what happens to the rebel forces in real life? They get outgunned, they get massacred, and then they get forgotten.

“When?” Simon demanded, and Monty shrank away.

“Soon,” Monty said. “They were waiting on Del and me to bring them the frequencies. Now they've got them, and they'll want to strike before the Tacet.”

“Eight days,” I said.

“The First Echo frequency has already gone out,” Simon said. “I heard them talking about distributing it to cells in other countries. They're moving all nonessential Walkers over in the next few days.”

Monty's gaze darted to me for a split second.

And just as quickly, I understood. “That's why she drugged me.”

Simon frowned, puzzlement turning darker as he realized what he'd said.

“She wanted me unconscious so I couldn't fight back. Rose was sending me to the First Echo.”

•   •   •

We left Monty shuffling in circles, humming a tuneless song, tugging at the buttons of his sweater. Plotting something, no doubt. Scheming was as natural to Monty as breathing, and I knew the signs. Rose didn't, not any more, but that was her own fault—and I wasn't in the mood to clue her in.

Simon chased after me.

“Del, think. If you go after Rose now, she'll do worse than drug you.”

“I'm not going to the First Echo,” I snapped, keeping my voice low. “If that woman thinks I am going to hide out while you go on a suicide mission, she's crazier than Monty.”

“You could come back when it's over.”

“Not if it fails. And let me tell you, this plan? It will fail. The Major Consort will bomb that building to dust before they agree to stop cleaving. Maybe we should bail. Put as much distance between us and the Free Walkers and the Consort as possible.”

“I can't do that,” Simon said.

“Why? Because you said you'd help them? They forced you to agree. You don't have to go along with it.”

He ran a hand through his hair, dark strands sticking up in every direction. “Rose promised to help my mom. She said if the Free Walkers succeeded, she'd make it a priority to find a cure in the Echoes.”

“She can't guarantee—” But I didn't finish, because even without a guarantee, it was Amelia's last shot at beating cancer, and I couldn't deny Simon the chance.

“Okay,” I said, and gave in to the urge to smooth down his hair, just for the excuse to touch him. “We stay. But I'm not going to the First Echo. What do they want you to do?”

He shrugged. “Rose keeps saying that my existence is enough, but that doesn't make sense. When I got here—to the first camp—they started explaining the Free Walkers to me. All about cauterization, and Echoes, and why the Consort was bad,
like I needed convincing, and telling me about my dad. They didn't tell me about the swap until I met Rose. And then they started training me.”

“To Walk.”

“Partly. But also to cauterize. As long as someone starts me off, I can manipulate the strings.” His hands moved as he spoke, as deft as any Walker's, a too-vivid reminder of Train World.

“I remember,” I choked out, and he took my hand.

“I was trying to save you.”

“You
left
me,” I replied. “Don't do it again.”

“I promise.” He brushed a kiss along my knuckles and continued. “They told me you were okay, but I wanted proof. I wanted to see you—if I was stable, and you were safe, there was no reason not to see you, right? But no matter how many times or how many ways I asked, all I got was Rose's speech about forgetting.”

“She's gotten a lot of mileage out of one speech,” I said grimly.

He tugged at a lock of my hair. “Yeah. I decided it was time to start calling some plays myself. I knew they wanted you to get Monty's frequency, which meant they were still keeping tabs on you. So I said I wouldn't help until I saw you again.”

“That's why Ms. Powell arranged the meet on the train.”

“And why they sent my Original back.”

I laughed. “Rose must have been pissed when she realized we'd have to break Monty out.” But Rose didn't seem like the kind of person who let anyone else call the plays. They needed Simon's help more desperately that she'd let on.

“It doesn't fit,” I said. “Why you?”

“I'm a hybrid?” he guessed. “And an Echo?”

Which was true, but there were countless hybrid Echoes of him scattered across the multiverse. The Walkers could have brought any of them in, but instead they'd taken
my
Simon. “You were raised in the Key World. That's got to mean something.”

“Let's figure it out in your room,” he said. “Rose said she was going to check in on you, remember? You should be there when she does.”

He was right. “Great. I'll ask her then.”

“She's not going to tell you anything.”

No, she wouldn't. “I know someone who will.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

W
E TOOK THE LONG WAY
into the infirmary—outside, through the patio. Simon checked the two interior doors.

“Still locked,” he said. “They think you're knocked out.”

“Better unlock them again,” I said, and crawled back into bed as he fixed the doors. “What am I going to do about this?”

I dangled the IV line in midair.

“Lie down,” he ordered.

“I'm not letting you put that thing in again,” I said, clapping a hand over the crook of my arm.

“Obviously.” He rumpled the covers and set it along one side of me, then climbed onto the opposite side of the bed. “You're a restless sleeper. Pulled it out while you were napping, but you didn't notice. I took care of you, thoughtful boyfriend that I am.”

“Very thoughtful,” I agreed.

I curled up on my side and sighed as his arms came around me. “Like this?”

He felt warm and solid, his voice rumbling through his chest and into my core. “Yep.”

“What if they think it's because we were making out?”

His hand slid beneath the hem of my shirt. Sparkles hummed
along my skin wherever he touched, and he chuckled. “I'd hate to get a reputation as a creeper. You're supposed to be sedated, remember?”

“Good point,” I said. But his hand stayed where it was.

Rose's muffled voice came from the main infirmary. I slammed my eyelids shut and did my best fake sleep, the one I'd perfected over years of avoiding family togetherness. A moment later, I heard the doorknob turn.

Footsteps scuffed along the carpeted floor, and the medic gave a disapproving sniff. I felt the IV line lift off the bed, and focused on keeping my breath slow and even.

She circled the bed and shook Simon by the shoulder.

“What's all this?” she demanded.

His voice was blurry with mock sleep. “She was having a nightmare.”

“She pulled out her IV,” the medic said. “That could have been dangerous. I have to reinsert the line.”

“She's pretty wiped out,” he whispered. “Can't you let her sleep? I promise to get you if she needs anything.”

He must have looked pretty appealing, because her voice softened. “I suppose if she's resting comfortably . . .”

“She is,” he assured her. “I'll watch her the whole time.”

After she bustled out, we waited until she'd made her report to Rose. The door cracked open and closed again, but I stayed immobile, sleeping the sleep of the heavily drugged. We heard Rose leave and waited another ten minutes before climbing out of bed, my limbs growing twitchier with every second.

“I'm not letting you go back by yourself,” he said as I rummaged through the nightstand.

The drawer did, in fact, hold a Bible and a phone book. But there were also several packages of glucose tablets. “Excuse me?”

“It's dangerous. The Consort is looking for you.”

“They won't be watching your house,” I said. “Other Simon is the only one who'll help us.”

“Help you,” he corrected. “I doubt I'm his favorite person.”

“Another reason for you to stay here. Besides, remember what happened the last time you met one of your Echoes? The multiverse couldn't handle both signals at once, and it ripped.” I shook my head and pulled on my coat. My backpack was propped in the corner, and I swung it over my shoulder. It felt good, a reminder that no matter what the Consort or the Free Walkers thought of me, I was a Walker.

Simon caught me by the hand. “According to the techs, that was because we had different frequencies. Now we match.”

“Except for your signal flaw,” I reminded him.

“Rose said it's safe, as long as I'm stable and we don't touch.” He held up his wrist. “See? Stable. Assuming I don't punch him, we're fine. It worked okay before.”

“When was this?”

“We were both here,” he said. “Not ten feet away from each other, when the Free Walkers rescued you guys.”

“You were here?”

He nodded. “I was training in the parking lot when the retrieval team came back. It was total chaos—medics and security
and Rose and Monty, and him in the middle, carrying you. I didn't realize who it was at first, because I only saw his back. I've never seen the back of my own head except in game tapes. But I knew it was you. It's hard to miss this hair.” He wrapped a lock around his finger, tugged gently. “He carried you to the infirmary, and they shut the door in my face. I went around back and watched through the window. He stayed the whole time they worked on you. Rose left—to check on Monty, I suppose. But he stayed until you were stable.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“No. But he spotted me.”

“What did he do?”

Simon looked away. “It doesn't matter. The important thing is, he and I were only a few feet away and the world didn't end.”

“Early days,” I muttered.

•   •   •

The Free Walker base was just off the expressway, surrounded by dingy strip malls. A few blocks away, we found a sports bar, lively but not jam-packed. Perfect for what I needed.

“Shouldn't we cross over?” Simon asked. “You're going to get sick again.”

I felt steady, but popped a glucose tablet while I surveyed the crowd. “Either we steal a car or take a bus,” I said. “It's easier to steal a car in an Echo.”

It was early, but one guy was already hitting boozily on an exasperated waitress.

He frowned. “You're really comfortable with grand theft auto.”

“Monty was a bad influence in all sorts of ways. We need to get as close as possible to your house before we cross back over, in case the Consort's watching the area.”

I lifted the drunk guy's keys while his back was turned.

“What?” I said when Simon shook his head. “He shouldn't be driving anyway.”

His frown deepened, but all he said was, “Lead the way.”

The key remote led us to an aqua-blue Chevy. In minutes we were speeding away, Simon at the wheel.

When we pulled up outside Simon's Echo house, it was still light out. Simon stared at the drawn curtains, trying to make out the shapes inside. He dragged in a breath. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” I said, tapping my pendant. “I've got a few hours before I'm in trouble.”

“If we're not back in a few hours, frequency poisoning won't be the biggest problem we have,” he warned, and opened the car door.

I followed him across the street and into the garage. I chose another pivot, and we Walked back to the Key World, where I promptly stumbled over a lawnmower, cursing.

He helped me up, then pressed a button on his tuner. Red lights chased each other across the display, then slowed to a steady beat. “I'm good,” he said. “Stay still.”

A minute later a single lightbulb glowed weakly, the pull-chain swinging back and forth.

The familiar, bell-like frequency swept the last wisps of fog from my brain, and my shoulders eased.

“You actually park a car in here,” I said, looking around. Amelia's car, I assumed. A dark green compact, older but well-maintained. “I always assumed she didn't drive.”

“Why wouldn't she drive? We keep her car in here. That's what a garage is for, Del.”

“Not ours,” I said. “My dad uses it for an office. Keeps a whole bunch of divisi and other tools there, and the maps for the day's Walks. We're not allowed in without permission.”

Simon scoffed. “That's a man cave, not an office.”

“No, it's . . .” I blinked. “It
is
a man cave.”

“Oh yeah. Can't blame him for wanting a little peace, especially when you and Addie lay into each other.”

Thinking about Addie cut deeper than I'd expected. How much trouble were she and Eliot in? What about my parents? Had they been taken into custody? We'd planned for the aftermath of the escape, taken steps to protect Addie and Eliot, but what if it hadn't been enough? What would happen when the Free Walkers made their move?

To distract myself, I inspected the garage. The walls were lined with gardening equipment and tools. A bike stood in the corner, covered with cobwebs, and an entire corner was crowded with sports equipment. Basketball wasn't the only sport Simon excelled at. He was a natural athlete—one of those people comfortable on any kind of court or field, his lean, easy grace an asset no matter what game he played.

He came up behind me as I was poking my fingers through the strings of a tennis racket. “You ready?”

“Yeah. I'll go in and get him. We'll Walk out through one of the house pivots, and your mom will come get you.”

“I don't like the two of you Walking without me.”

“We'll be fine as long as you stay away from him. I don't care what the Free Walkers have done; putting the two of you in the same room is bad news.”

Rose wouldn't have let the Simons near each other if she'd thought there was a danger, of course. It wasn't their frequencies I was worried about. It was their egos.

I leaned my head back against his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat. “Are you sure you can handle seeing her? You're okay?”

“Positive. Better than okay.”

I wasn't sure I believed him.
The guy whose life I stole
. The comment had stayed with me, the sort of offhand remark that should have faded but instead picked up strength, a droning in the back of my mind that built to a roar. Is that how he viewed himself? An imposter? An interloper? A thief?

Did he think he was only an Echo?

He was none of those things. He was Simon Lane, the boy I loved in any world, and what made him real was his heart, not some tangle of sound and strings. I pressed my lips to his, drawing his warmth and his breath inside me, and it underscored what I already knew. He was alive, and mine, and I'd do anything to keep him that way.

“See you in a little while,” I said, and slipped out the side door, my hood up and my head down.

Nobody seemed to be watching the house—no strange vans idling at the curb, no sign of the Consort or the police. I slipped up the back steps and knocked lightly.

Iggy heard me first, scrabbling at the door with frantic barks. A moment later Original Simon answered with a scowl.

“Are you insane?” He grabbed my arm and hauled me inside. “Did anyone see you?”

“Who would be watching you? It's perfectly safe.”

“Del!” cried Amelia, jumping up from the table. “Are you okay? Did something happen? Is Simon—”

“He's good,” I said. “He's waiting in the garage.”

She paled and took a step toward the door. “Why won't he come in?”

“It's better if we keep them apart as much as we can,” I said, careful not to elaborate. Omission is always easier than an outright lie.

Original Simon started to contradict me, but I narrowed my eyes, and he reconsidered. “Why'd you bring him?”

“I needed to talk to you, and he wasn't going to let me come alone.”

“Idiots,” he muttered.

Iggy pressed so heavily against me that I had to brace myself against the counter. I leaned over and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I missed you too, fella. We both did.” Straightening up, I added, “Can we Walk somewhere? Let Simon and his mom catch up?”

His jaw clenched, but he shrugged and pointed to the
hallway. Before I could follow him, Amelia touched my arm.

“You look tired,” she said. “Are you—“

“I'm okay. I just need some answers. Once we've crossed, you can go see him.”

She nodded. “I didn't get to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“For saving my boys. Both of them.”

“I haven't,” I protested. “Not yet.”

She tucked my hair behind my ear. “I saw the way you looked at Simon the first time he brought you home. Like he was playing music only you could hear. And I saw the way you looked when he was gone, like every pivot in the multiverse had slammed itself shut. You'll save them,” she said, and there was a quiet certainty in her voice that made me believe her.

Maybe Simon got some of his strength from his father—Gil must have been tough to endure the oubliette without betraying the Free Walkers or his family. But a good chunk came from Amelia, simultaneously fragile and tough, who could look at me with infinite kindness after what I'd done, and what my people had done, and after she'd lost so much. She looked past what I'd taken and instead saw what I was trying to return.

“Amelia . . . ,” I started to say, and her expression altered from benediction to trepidation. “Do you trust the Free Walkers?”

“To do what? Believe in their cause? Fight for it? Absolutely. But do I trust them to succeed?” She touched the bare place on her fourth finger. “I've seen them do otherwise too many times,
Del. But I believe they'll fight, no matter the cost.”

“That's what worries me,” I said. “Since when do the good guys act like the bad guys?”

“You thought they'd be the opposite of the Consort.”

“I guess.”

“Make no mistake. They're every bit as driven, every bit as ruthless and exacting as the Consort. It's natural to want people to be binary, Del. Good or evil, right or wrong. But people are like pivots—at any given moment, there are a million possibilities in play. Their choices illuminate who they are.”

“So the ends justify the means? They can manipulate kids and sacrifice dads and abandon families, and we're all supposed to say, ‘Well, it's for a good reason'?”

She looked out the window to the garage. “I ask myself that every day. I don't think they do it lightly. The Consort adheres to a single rule: the Key World above all else. Everything else is insignificant. They don't even have to think about it—­fighting entropy is their sole consideration. The Free Walkers don't have the luxury of indifference. They believe each life matters, Del. Walkers, Originals, Echoes. Balancing the needs of the three means every single choice puts someone in danger. There are no perfect solutions.”