Queen (The Blackcoat Rebellion #3)(49)

“Wear these,” said a guard, and he handed us masks to place over our noses and mouths. I pulled mine on, willing myself to hold it together.

There was nothing left. Everything was burned beyond recognition. And it had all been too fast for anyone to escape, but no one could have possibly survived long enough to suffer.

As Daxton exited the back room, the guard led Greyson and me off the plane and onto the ashy ground. Something crunched beneath my boot, and I tried not to think about what it might have been.

“Ah, Section X,” said Daxton as he stepped down, two armed guards at his side. “What a delight it is to return to such a familiar place.”

I knew exactly where I was: we stood in the spot where the factory used to be. All that marked it now was a twisted lump of melted metal. And it was, in fact, the very section Victor Mercer had run with his brother, Jonathan. He had lived there much longer than I had, and if I could picture what the street used to be, he undoubtedly could, too.

“Shall we?” said Daxton, and it wasn’t a request. He strolled toward the hill nearby, where Mercer Manor had once stood. There was nothing left but charred stone now.

Greyson and I followed him up what had once been the sloping pathway. The gate had melted away, and part of me hoped it would be impossible to tell where, exactly, the manor had once stood. I didn’t think I could take seeing the very spot where Knox had died.

Could have died, I said firmly to myself. There was still hope. There was always hope, and I wasn’t sure which was worse—the pain of loss, or the pain of never knowing. Still, I clung to the possibility that someway, somehow, Knox had defied the impossible and escaped Elsewhere in time. Rivers had known about the tunnels, after all—maybe they had used them.

But that only brought up the horrible image of thousands of charred bodies deep below our feet, where no one would ever find them. I choked back a wave of nausea and dug my nails into my palms, forcing myself to push that image aside. There had to be a way.

As we grew closer, Daxton made a delighted sound and hurried forward, stopping in a specific spot. “Look at this. Of course this would survive—how could it not?”

With my insides in knots, I walked toward him until the guard put up his hand, indicating I was close enough. I peered around. Daxton stood directly over an ornate H carved into the marble floor.

The foyer of Mercer Manor. Which meant—

I looked to my right, where Knox’s office had once stood. Nothing remained but more ash and char, and I silently turned and marched back down the hill. I expected Daxton to call me back, to insist I stay and witness these horrors, but I wouldn’t have gone. He could do whatever he wanted to me. I didn’t care anymore.

Footsteps hurried after me, crunching against the ground, but to my relief, it wasn’t Daxton or a guard. Instead, Greyson caught up with me and took my arm. “Are you okay?”

“How can you possibly—” I sucked in a breath and held it until we crossed the melted gate, where I burst. “I can’t do this. I can’t play this stupid game just to keep him happy. He’s a monster. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s reveling in it. Do you have any idea how many people died in this section alone?”

Greyson shook his head, his grip on me tightening. “You need to keep it together,” he whispered. “Just for a few more hours. Please.”

“I need to get out of here.” I crossed over the spot where Jonathan Mercer had executed Scotia, who had been the rebel leader inside the prison camp before dying right before the Battle of Elsewhere. Everything was a memory. Everything was a reminder of my failure. And I couldn’t do this anymore.

Daxton must have gotten what he wanted out of me, because the guards didn’t stop us as we boarded the plane. I spent the next twenty minutes cleaning ash off our shoes, and by the time Daxton finally returned, looking entirelytoo smug and satisfied, something inside of me had broken.

Maybe Lila had been the lucky one after all. She would never have to wade through the ashes of the people she’d cared about. She wouldn’t have to put up with Daxton’s sadistic games. She wouldn’t have to look over her shoulderwith every step she took, wondering when the ax was going to drop. No wonder she’d been so willing to take the risk of stepping onto that helicopter and putting her fate in Daxton’s hands. For her, death was freedom. And a pardon from the life she would have had to live if she’d survived.

“Now that Elsewhere is gone, what will you do with citizens who commit crimes?” I said as Daxton passed us. I’d meant it as a challenge—as a way to point out one of the many flaws in Daxton’s path toward a stranglehold on the country. Instead he paused halfway back to his private quarters at the tail section of the plane, and he regarded me as if I’d just told an amusing joke.

“They’ll get what they deserve, of course.”

A lump formed in my throat. “You’ll execute them. Even the people who do nothing more than look at a Shield the wrong way.”

He shrugged. “Laws must be enforced. Perhaps the Blackcoats should have thought through the consequences of their actions before overtaking Elsewhere.”

My entire body went cold, and before I could stop myself, I snarled, “Burn in hell.”

He flashed me a wink before turning on his heel. “No need. Your friends are doing a marvelous job of that for me.”