Breaking Sky(23)

They ran him toward the infirmary.

Chase choked on the smoke still pouring from the Eagle. A cadet tugged on the back of Chase’s uniform, pulling her away from the scene of destruction. She went with him, too overwhelmed to register anything outside of what she had just witnessed.

“What happened?” she asked blindly. A familiar voice answered, but not the kind of familiar that eased her nerves.

“That’s red drone damage,” Tanner said. “The Eagle was running surveillance over the North Pole. Trying to spy from the backyard. Can’t believe they thought that’d work.”

A greenish bruise still highlighted his eye, reminding Chase of the pummeling he took from Sylph two weeks ago. “We should get out of here before they suspend our flight privileges.” His voice was matter of fact, in a tone that always felt like a personality trait.

They walked together, which felt as strange as it should. Chase bridged the gap from the smoke of the real war to the internal fight she felt when she looked at Tanner. Last semester, he had tutored her in history when she couldn’t get her head around which country Ri Xiong Di bought first. And when his cute Asian-American features stirred up some cultural curiosity, she’d started doing the same things with him that she now did with Riot.

“Will it mean war?” Chase asked. “Put us over the edge?”

“No. The bastards knew what they were doing. They didn’t kill the pilot, did they? They let him limp back here to show us a taste of what they’re capable of. It’s probably just retaliation. They’re flexing their muscles at us.”

Retaliation for Chase’s landing in Canada?

Her breath went tight. This had to be her fault. Had Ri Xiong Di attacked the Canadian base too? Did Ri Xiong Di find a way to knock Phoenix out of the sky? All of a sudden, the long-haired image of Arrow didn’t make her want to roll her eyes.

Was he okay? He had to be.

They had to fly together again.

She came out of her thoughts slowly. “What?”

Tanner was eyeing her as though he had asked something important. “I said, why Riot?”

“Are you serious? After what we just saw…that stuff doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” Tanner’s expression pegged her, and he leaned a little closer, reminding her of his pressing, small kisses. “I might not be on a Streaker team, but I’m better than Riot. Riot blabs to the whole academy every time you hook up. I actually like you.”

“But you don’t know…” Chase’s voice trailed off as she remembered Pippin’s ribbing—that this had become more of a standard answer than a real response. “Why?” she asked instead. “Why do you think you like me?”

He stood a little taller. “It’s a gut reaction. I look forward to seeing you.”

“But that’s just you. It has nothing to do with me, you know? And seriously, Tanner, I’ve been terrible to you.” She stopped herself from adding, on purpose. Tanner was smart and sweet, a pilot with extracurricular talents. He was ten times the boy Riot was, and as soon as Chase realized that, she’d cut him off. He didn’t deserve to get tangled up with the Nyx.

“Find someone else.” Her words ended up sounding so much harsher than she intended, but it was too late. Tanner left.

Chase stood in the glass tunnel that connected the hangar to the Green. Outside, a snowstorm pressed on the navy sky. She wondered if Phoenix was up there somewhere. If Canada had been attacked too. Dragon would be fixed soon, she hoped. And then she’d look for Arrow—catch him in the sky where no satellite could hang onto their signal for long. She had to make sure he’d made it through.

Arrow didn’t deserve the hazardous wake of her bad decisions either.





12


    ZERO DARK THIRTY


   After Midnight, Before Sunrise


The night had gone past that zone of sleeplessness and into vulgar awake. Chase flipped in bed so often that Pippin put his headphones on to drown out the creaks of the bunk frame. The tramping bass of some classical tune trickled up through the silence.

She closed her eyes, only to remember the hangar and Captain Erricks’s mangled leg. Guilt seized her and threw a bag over her head.

“Pippin!”

He shot up. “I’m—what?” He yawned lionlike. “Did I miss something?”

“Was the attack on the Eagle my fault?” she asked.

Pippin didn’t say anything. Maybe he shrugged. Or nodded. She couldn’t see him. She hung her head over the bar to look down on him. “Was it retaliation for landing in Canada?”

He took his headphones off. “I don’t know, Chase.”

Coming from a bona fide genius, this answer felt stark.

“Guess then.”

“No.”

“Please, Pip.”

“I meant, no, it’s not your fault. Probably not. There are many cogs turning. You’re only one of them—not a small one, but only one. Make sense?” When she didn’t answer, he added, “We’re under enough pressure. Guilt is overkill at this point. Trust me.”


Chase did. That trust was one of the best things in her life, and she held on to it as she buried the scene in the hangar and begged sleep. Her nightmare was waiting.