In The Afterlight (The Darkest Minds, #3)(26)

Liam had turned to follow Vida’s shape as it disappeared into the darkness. When he turned back, I saw the question there; my own confusion, reflected back.

But I had no idea why she was angry.


It was hours past midnight by the time we reached Lodi, and the moon was already beginning its downward glide toward the western horizon. I’d slept on and off for a total of four hours, but felt absolutely no better for it. Sticking to surface streets, winding up California’s spine at a leisurely pace, had added an extra four hours to an already long trip—and the extra hour it took to find one more car, and enough gas to keep us all going, rounded it out to an even ten hours. We seemed to be caught in some kind of reality in which time was simultaneously stretching and shrinking; minutes flew by, but in endless numbers. The rushing tides of anxiety and fear washed in and out of me, and I caught myself sending up desperate, silent prayers that we’d find Cate and the others waiting for us. The day had already gone too well, and I knew better than to expect some kind of pattern to form. Life had the nasty habit of lifting me up just to throw me back down.

The town was more rural than I was expecting, at least the fringes of it. There were a number of barren fields that might once have been vineyards, but they’d been left to wither and die in the shadow of a series of long, silver warehouses.

“There it is,” Cole said, lifting his hand from the wheel to point. I was surprised he could tell the difference between each, given that they looked identical to my eye, especially in the dark.

“Are they here?”

“We’ll know in a second.”

The sky had blossomed into pale lavender by the time we entered the edge of town, our little line of cars like a parade through the empty streets. Cole’s mood was shifting again, ticking higher and lighter as the car slowed and turned into a used-car dealership. He guided the car into one of the empty, covered spaces—next to what was most definitely an old exterminator’s van and an electrical company’s truck.

Not a used-car dealership, I thought. At least not anymore.

“Okay, Gem.” Cole took a deep breath and glanced up at the roof of the car, muttering something I couldn’t hear. “You ready?”

“What about him?” I asked, nodding toward Clancy’s limp form.

“Leave him for now. I just gave him another dose. I’ll come back out for him after we make sure everything’s secure.”

It didn’t seem like the best idea, but I was so tired I found myself nodding anyway, too tired to fight. Besides, the kid was still breathing low and even, bent over at the waist and out of sight. This time, I was the one to double-check that his hands and feet were still zip-tied. It was the last complete, coherent thought I seemed to have.

My whole body ached with exhaustion as I climbed out; I could taste it at the back of my throat, feel it in the watery consistency my eyes had taken on. Liam found me immediately and cast a questioning look in the direction of the truck. I waved him off and leaned into his arm when he wrapped it around me. I kept trying to count the kids off, starting each time with Zu and Hina, but I couldn’t seem to get past ten without forgetting my place and needing to start again. Focusing on one thing, Chubs’s voice as he fired question after question to Vida about the blurred shapes around him, helped keep me alert, but it still took my brain far too long to process why we were standing outside of some kind of bar, hovering at the door.

Liam followed my line of sight. “She didn’t say a single thing to Zu,” he said quietly. “I know she’s not a cuddlebug, but is this normal? Because if it keeps going the way it is, I’m going to have a problem with it.”

I looked over at Vida again. “It takes her a while to warm up. I’ll talk to her.”

Cole peered in through one of the windows, ignoring the unlit electric OPEN sign. Letting out a deep breath, he tested the door to Smiley’s Pub. Locked.

“Is this a bar?” Chubs whispered behind me. “Are we allowed to go in? We’re not twenty-one.”

“Oh, Grannie.” Vida sighed. “I can’t even.”

I looked through the front window. There was a lot of pale, polished wood, empty shelves behind the bar itself, and red vinyl wherever there was seating. Old classic-rock tour posters were tacked up between all of the pictures of bikini-clad women lounging on sports cars.

“Do we have to break in?” I asked Cole.

“Nah. I was just checking to see if they were still using the joint as a front. The entrance to the Ranch is behind the bar.”

For a second, I was confused, thinking he meant behind the counter inside the bar. Instead, he stepped down from the curb and jutted his chin toward the small alley between Smiley’s Pub and the empty store beside it. We fell in place behind him, stepping around garbage cans and empty, stacked crates until we reached a back door. Cole went right up to it and pressed six numbers into the electronic keypad there. It flashed, beeped, and the door popped open, revealing what looked like a typical back room. There were shelves along each wall, most of them bare.

“It’s a long way down,” Cole said over his shoulder. “Anyone afraid of heights? The dark? Nah, of course not. You guys are champs. Just be careful, you hear?”

Long way down. God—another underground tunnel? A long one, I’d bet, based on the fact that we were far enough away from the Ranch’s main building that I hadn’t been able to see it from out in front of Smiley’s. We’d had a similar setup for accessing HQ down in Los Angeles. The entry point had been a parking garage, which brought you down via elevator to what we called the Tube. That tunnel had been so hellish in its sewer stink and mold-slick walls, you half expected to find the devil waiting for you at the other end of it.