In The Afterlight (The Darkest Minds #3)(47)

Cole shrugged. “Guess you’re going to find out, baby brother.”

In response, Liam only grunted.

I reached back, slowing my steps, suddenly unable to escape the thought that it was me he was angriest at—that Liam would feel like I hadn’t stood up for him enough upstairs, that not telling him about Cole’s and my plan had hurt him more deeply than I’d expected. I reached back for his hand, wanting the security of his touch, to comfort him, apologize, to just...be, and be with him next to me. I hadn’t even looked to see that he was okay; he was mentally banged up now, but I hadn’t checked for bruises, bumps, cuts.

And...nothing. My hand hung in the cold air. Nothing. God, he was mad, furious maybe. A painful knot formed in my chest and I pulled my hand back, drawing it closer to my side in a last-ditch effort to protect myself from the raw feeling of rejection.

Liam caught my fingers, but instead of weaving his through mine, he pressed a kiss there and crossed the last two steps between us so we could walk next to each other. He looped an arm over my shoulder and didn’t pull away when I stepped in closer to his side. I ran my hand along his back, up and down, up and down, until I felt the tight muscles there ease. When he looked down at me, his expression had softened enough that I felt the sudden urge to stand on my toes and press a soft, quick kiss to his jaw. So I did. He ducked his head, trying to hide his little, pleased smile. It was the first time I felt myself relax since he came strolling back in through the tunnel.

We’re okay, I thought. This is okay.

In total, it was about a five-minute walk from one door to the other. Stairs waited for us at the other end, and I realized with a start that we were heading back aboveground. The door waiting at the top of the stairs looked to have been hammered out of solid metal, and though the door hadn’t been locked, Cole still had to drive his shoulder into it in order to get it unstuck from its frame. He stumbled in with the force of his momentum.

The smirk on Liam’s face fell away the moment we stepped inside.

It was clear we were standing in one of the nearby warehouses—one of the many identical long, white buildings that seemed a dime a dozen in this part of Lodi. It looked to be roughly the same dimensions as the Ranch, but one level, and decidedly less livable—concrete, metal rafters. Windows lined the top of the wall, coated in dust and darkened by blackout sheets. The lights hanging from the rafters sputtered to life, illuminating the towering mounds of junk piled up around us.

There were no walls or offices, let alone heat or insulation from what I could tell; it was simply an unfinished garage. There were a few actual cars inside—their stripped-down bodies, really, and all of them propped up on lifts. Liam walked toward the nearest one, crouching down to inspect the engine and innards on the floor beneath it. All of the tires and hubcaps seemed to be lining the loading-dock door, which had been secured several times over by metal chains and locks. For the most part, though, it was a bizarre assortment of things: broken bed frames, sleeping bags, bags of screws and nails. I moved to open one of the nearby garbage bags, half afraid of what I’d find inside, but it was only crumpled old clothes they’d probably ripped off from a donation drop-off.

The smell in here was vaguely sour, tinged with exhaust and oil. Dust flew thick and heavy, forcing me to wave it away from my face in order to breathe. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to how the League had stacked and sorted. I felt the first spark of temper hit me and turned to find Cole walking across the building.

Liam stood, his hands on his hips, eyes lit with something I didn’t understand. He didn’t seem daunted in the slightest now that the initial shock had worn off. There was an eagerness in its place. Somehow, he was seeing something I wasn’t—some sort of potential.

I mostly just saw red.

“This is a huge job!” I called after his brother. “Cole! He’s not going to do it by himself.”

“Obviously,” Cole hollered back. “He’s allowed to take some of the younger kids who won’t be training. His bosom buddy—the one that always looks like he’s got a bug up his ass.”

I started after him. “They’re not going to do this for you overnight—we should all be helping—!”

A clatter of metal against the concrete made me look back. Liam had moved on from the car to a nearby pile of bikes that were tangled together like brambles. He picked through frames and spokes and wheels, working carefully, trying to get down to whatever he’d seen under them. I stepped over a downed floor lamp to help him. I saw a flash of silver, then my fingers brushed against a tire. Liam let out a breathless laugh, working twice as fast now, his smile practically contagious.

“What is it?” I asked as we hauled it upright. “A dirt bike?”

He was vibrating with excitement, his hands flying over its sleek body, brushing away the dirt and dust. “Oh, man,” he breathed out. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

“I’ll take your word for it....” I said.

It looked like a hybrid of a dirt bike and a motorcycle. Apparently I wasn’t that far off, because Liam explained, talking fast, “It’s a dual-sport motorcycle. It has the capabilities of a dirt bike for off-roading, but see? It has mirrors and a speedometer for streets. It looks like it’s a...yeah, a Suzuki. Wow. I’m kinda freaking out—”

“I know.” I laughed. “I can tell. Do you think it’ll actually run?”