The Princess Trials (The Princess Trials #1)(101)

Constance shakes her head. “That may be so, but I don’t feel comfortable in a vehicle with a murderer.”

“Get out, then,” mutters Berta.

“Ridgeback is right,” says Ingrid. “We should all leave this secure vehicle and wander around the Barrens in the middle of the night, just to please one selfish, murdering rebel who cheated her way into the Princess Trials,”

The girls behind us shout their protests, and my skin prickles with irritation. They were fine with Ingrid pointing a gun at me after I disabled our hijackers, fine with Ingrid calling me a traitor, but the moment they need to rise from their comfortable seats? I twist around and shoot them my filthiest glare.

“Silence,” Ingrid snaps. “We might have discarded our Amstraad monitors, but the vehicles are tracked. Our next best chance of survival is traveling on foot to the nearest watchtower.”

“Why can’t we just drive there?” Emmera whines from the back.

“Because I’m not going to stay in a confined space with that maniac and her gun,” Ingrid yells.

Emmera sobs, “Then let her get off the bus.”

My free hand curls into a fist. So much for Harvester sisterhood. I want to fly down the aisle and ram my fist down Emmera’s throat.

Ingrid’s eyes shine like lit coals. “You heard your Echelon. Get out.”

“Wait,” I shout. “You can’t—”

She fires a shot that lands an inch away from my feet. “The next one won’t miss.”

“Strab,” Berta bellows. “What are you—”

Ingrid raises her gun to a point above my shoulder. “Quiet, or you’ll be next.”

“Alright,” I yell. “But lower the gun first.”

Berta shoves past me toward the front. “They’ll probably turf me to the side unless I’m driving this thing.” When she settles into the driver’s seat, she turns to me but doesn’t meet my eyes. “It’s nothing personal. When we reach the watchtower, I’ll ask them to send a search party.”

Bitterness coats the back of my throat, but I don’t speak. I don’t cry, complain, or rant. It’s what the Nobles want—an excuse to shoot me. Ingrid and Constance’s gleeful smiles convince me that they were the girls who gassed my room last night.

Pointing my gun at Ingrid’s chest, I edge around the driver’s body toward the exit. If she shoots me, I’ll blast her through the heart on the way down.

The door hisses open, bringing with it a gust of balsam-scented air. Normally, the smell of tree resin soothes my senses, but right now, it grates on my sinuses.

I reach the top of the stairs and take a final look down the aisle. Dozens of faces stare out at me from rows and rows of seats. Most are frightened, but some are defiant. Emmera sits proudly in the middle of the back with a face gleaming with sick triumph.

Not daring to turn my back on the Nobles, I grope behind me for the handrail. “The next time someone tries to abduct any of you, I’ll let them do what they want.”

Ingrid places a hand over her mouth and mimics a yawn. “Get out before I fill you with bullets.”

I clutch the metal rail with my free hand and take my first backward step down the vehicle’s stairs. Ingrid turns to me and winks. She probably knows that she’s landed me in the worst trouble of my life. Mom told me all about life in the Barrens. The electrified fence that separates that part of Phangloria from the Echelons isn’t just to keep out the Foundlings. It’s to contain deadly creatures, including black bears, great wolves, and rattlesnakes.

A few steps later, my feet hit the ground. The doors hiss closed, and the vehicle continues down the floodlit highway that stretches for miles.

“Thanks for nothing,” I mutter to the vehicle’s retreating backlights.

I tilt my head to a cloudless sky littered with stars, and a sigh slips from my lips. Which way should I go? To my left is a steep slope covered in scrub and the occasional umbrella-shaped tree. I can’t tell how deep the mountain goes, but a fire flickers about half a mile down, streaming smoke up to the sky.

A shiver travels down my spine. I pick up my voluminous skirts and rush to the other side of the road, where the ground slopes up at an even sharper angle. There’s less of a chance of being seen by whoever has started that fire. I walk back toward the Oasis. If I hide close to the electric fence, I’ll be able to slip through the gate when the Freedom Army sends vehicles after the girls.

Leaves rustle overhead. A screech fills my ears, then the frantic beat of wings. My heart pulses, and I spin around. The largest bird I’ve ever seen launches itself into the sky and soars above the valley. But further down the road, the vehicle’s brake lights glow red before it reverses toward me.

Relief loosens the tension around my chest, and I cross the road. Did Ingrid run out of bullets or Berta change her mind about leaving me alone in the Barrens?

I stand at the roadside with my feet planted at hip-width in case I need to duck. My gun rests in my hand at chest-height in case I need to shoot. The armored personnel carrier speeds toward me, and I step back in case I need to dive out of the way. It stops ten feet ahead from where I’m standing, and the doors open.

“Hello?” I shout.

Nobody answers.

“Hey!”

When there’s still no answer, I gulp. That woman I set on fire wasn’t dead. What if she released toxic gas into the bus and made everyone fall asleep or worse, killed them? I place my finger on the trigger and take a tentative step toward the open door.