Breaking Sky(21)

“I still haven’t run into Sylph since I took out Pegasus,” Chase explained to Pippin. “I have a strong feeling it’s not going to go well.”

Pippin didn’t say anything, and Chase was suddenly more than muscle tired. Facing down Sylph meant acknowledging how crazed Chase had been when she was on the hunt for Phoenix.

On the other side of the weight room, Riot grunted through bicep curls while watching himself in the mirrored wall.

“What a winner.” Pippin shook his head. “The whole academy to choose from and you’ve landed on that one.”

“I know, right?” Chase fixed her gloves. “Whatever. He’s decent. He’s around. He doesn’t mind my reputation.”

“That’s because he thinks he’ll get laid. Boy, is he in for a disappointment. Sylph will kill you if this tryst follows established patterns.”

“Sylph should realize that her RIO can make out with whoever he wants.”

“You’d be mad if someone broke my heart,” Pippin said.

“What hearts? There are no hearts involved. Just some lips and skin. I’ve pretty much told Riot that.” She shoved Pippin’s shoulder with her own. “Besides, you would have to show interest in a girl before hearts could be broken.”

Pippin positioned himself under the bench press. “Not till God makes women out of some other metal than earth.”

“English translation?”

“Indeed.”

Chase let Pippin be Pippin. She eyed Riot and thought about Streaker Team Pegasus. It didn’t feel right that they were out of the loop. “I kinda wish Sylph knew about Phoenix.”

“Kale said shut up, so we shut up.”

“Donnet!” Chief Black shouted. He stood beside an upside-down freshman who was hanging from the ceiling bar by his feet. “You’ve got a family call. Hustle to.”


Pippin disappeared so fast that Chase felt his wake like a pass of engine heat. She couldn’t blame him. Up in the near-Arctic and so dependent on the military, she often felt like there was no one else. After all, Chase didn’t have a family waiting on her calls. But Pippin did, and they loved him and missed him.

Chase lay back under the bench press and forced herself through a chest ache that had nothing to do with her muscles.

? ? ?

Kale often called Chase a glutton for punishment. She didn’t deny it.

After her arms were jellied with muscle fatigue, she set off in search of Sylph. It was time to take another pounding. One she deserved.

She found Sylph in the hangar. The cold seeped through the concrete walls, making Chase wish she were wearing the uniquely light insulation of her zoom bag. She held her chest over her T-shirt, bit the ball chain of her dog tags, and jogged around the old planes, drones, and helos. When she arrived at the Streakers, her arms fell to her sides. Her mouth hung open.

Chase hadn’t realized it was this bad.

The engineers had completely dismantled Pegasus’s right wing while Dragon sat on blocks, her landing gear stripped down to its nuts and bolts and struts. Chase left Sylph standing with her back to her beneath Pegasus and went to Dragon first. She put her hand on the jet’s nose. The metal skin was always a little warmer than the chilled air in the hangar, which made it feel alive.

“I’m sorry,” she told her bird. An airman cast her a dirty look, but she kept touching Dragon, pressing her face to the jet and whispering her regrets. There were so many.

Sylph grabbed Chase and spun her by the shoulders. Chase fell backward onto her butt. Her palms burned from hitting the concrete floor so hard.

“You reckless, stupid, stupid girl!” The blonde raised a fist destined for Chase’s face but then stopped. They both had tears stinging at the corner of their eyes. They both noticed it. “You don’t care about anything or anyone.”

Chase looked past Sylph to the beautiful, broken Streakers. “That’s not true.”

“Prove it next time.” Sylph’s fist reared back some more, and Chase was going to let her plant one on her nose, eyes, mouth—whatever the girl needed to hit to make them square again. But Sylph’s hand dropped instead. Chase stared at her loose fingers. “You don’t even understand what you did wrong.”

“I do,” Chase muttered. If anyone was acutely aware of her failings, her callousness, and her tunnel vision, it was Chase.

“You’re not worth the bruised knuckles.” Sylph stomped away.

Now Chase knew another truth: the only thing worse than getting punched in the face was not getting punched in the face when you deserved it.





11


    TAG THE BOGEY


   Sighting the Enemy


Pippin was still talking to his family when Chase entered the barracks hall. At the far end, a tiny closet of a room was set up for video calls. It didn’t have a door—most likely to dissuade dirty talking—but that also meant Chase couldn’t get by without Pippin’s family seeing her in the background.

“Nyx!” his littlest brother, Andrew, called out. “Nyx! Nyx!”

Chase leaned on the doorjamb and crossed her arms. “Hey there, Andy. Still bulking up to turn flyboy?”

“Yeah, look!” The ten-year-old showed off his biceps.

“Impressive.” Chase tried to look at Andrew’s eyes when she talked to him. Tried not to stare at how filthy and skinny he was or how patched his clothes were. Andrew yelled at Pippin’s other two brothers off camera, and Pippin said something about one of their ticklish ears. Andrew dove off screen. A wrestling match ensued until one of them kicked the camera and the screen fuzzed before it went black.