In The Afterlight (The Darkest Minds #3)(86)

“Begin!”

We came at the door in a rush of overeager energy, pouring through the opening. I felt the lick of adrenaline against my heart, counting off the timing in my head. The two Blues in front of me, Josh and Sarah, raised their rifle sights to their eyes and stepped into the makeshift hallway we’d constructed out of pallets, simulating the layout of the lower-level hall we’d seen. They swept their hands out toward Zu and Hina, who were pretending to be the PSFs posted at either end of the hall standing guard, and the girls made a dramatic show of pretending they were thrown back. Liam actually laughed behind me, which set my teeth on edge.

“Stop!” Cole called from his perch atop one of the ladders. “Girls! You have to take this seriously, otherwise I’m subbing you out. There’s not enough time for us to be dicking around, not when it could mean this team not getting their timing down. Got it?”

Zu and Hina wilted at his sharp words, but nodded.

“Go from the top,” Cole said. “Everyone reset—but this time, Liam, switch places with Zach—yeah, you’ll be behind Ruby. Lucy, hop out—you too, Mila. Sorry, ladies. You’re not right for this Op. I want Gonzo and Ollie to take their place.”

Liam opened his mouth but caught himself. I gave him a quick nod, letting him know it was all right. Cole had been making these switches and substitutions for the past two days, trying to get the best chemistry in the group. We were getting there, but the birthing process had been painful and I was feeling each day passing like a strike to the back of the head.

I would have given anything for Vida to be here next to me. I checked in with Nico every single day to see if he’d gotten another status update from them, but the last contact they’d made had been to let us know they had safely arrived in Kansas.

“Begin!” And the dance started all over again.

We moved into the garage two at a time—Gav, at my left, grunted as he dropped down to his knee. He pretended to cover Josh and Sarah, as they pretended to zip-tie Zu’s and Hina’s hands and feet.

“Remember,” Cole was shouting, his hands cupped around his mouth, “the point is to be as silent and fast as possible. Do not fire unless your life depends on it. Get the PSFs down silently so they can’t alert the camp controllers!”

Zach and I bolted forward, him covering me as I ducked into a gap between two pallets meant to represent the Control Room. I reached a hand out toward Lucy, who was now posing as the camp controller at the helm of the camp’s security. She took a generous step back, her eyes widening in what I thought was real alarm. My stomach clenched.

Zach went through the motions of restraining the other kid posing as a camp controller. Then we were at the back of the pack, joining the others as they hit the other end of the hall, and we mimed going up a flight of stairs. Liam said something under his breath that made Mike, Gonzo, Ollie, and Sarah burst into laughter.

“Stop!” Cole called. “Lee, you’re out. You too, Mike.”

Liam swung around, a look of total disbelief on his face. “Excuse me?”

“You,” Cole repeated slowly, as if Liam’s hearing had been the problem, “are out.”

“What the hell for?” Liam spun toward me, gesturing with his hands, asking me for something I had no intention of giving him. The minute the words had left Cole’s lips, relief had flooded my system. Liam’s expression changed abruptly, darkening as he shook his head and twisted back around in the direction of his brother.

“Why? I’ve done everything you asked—both me and Mike have experience hitting trucks. So why?”

The kids around us began to shuffle their feet and look away, the tension swiftly moving from awkward to painful.

“Because,” Cole said, jumping down from the ladder, “I decided twelve is too many—you guys are practically tripping over each other. We need to be in and out faster and quieter. If you take this personally, you’re an idiot.”

“That’s bullshit,” Liam said, his hands on his hips. “You just want me out of this.”

“Well, your attitude isn’t doing you any favors either, baby brother,” he said, holding out his hand. “Your helmet and gun. You go cool off somewhere. Mike, I need you as another PSF—third door on the right, yes, you got it—”

Liam ripped the gun strap off his shoulder, pushing it into his brother’s chest, and unbuckled the helmet, letting it fall to the floor. He turned on his heel and strode toward the garage’s tunnel door, his body rigid with stiff, furious lines.

I held up one finger to Cole, not waiting to get a negative response from him, and followed Liam out. He was already a good ten feet into the tunnel before I caught sight of him and called, “Hey!”

He stopped, but didn’t turn around. I unclipped my own helmet and approached slowly, recognizing the red staining the back of his neck, the way his hands were clenched into fists—the veins stood out in his forearms, he had such a tight grip.

“Liam,” I said softly. “Look at me.”

“What?” he said, plucking at his fatigues. “Did you need me to hand over these, too?”

“I want you to calm down,” I said. “I’m sorry—but you know it has to be this way.”

“And which way is that?” he asked. “The one where you stand there silently and let me get dismissed like a kid being sent to time-out?”