The Pledge (The Pledge 1) - Page 54


We walked like that for over seventy paces, the entire time listening for any sounds that we were being followed, until at last, a splinter of light fractured the near-total blackness. But it was enough, and I could see a set of crude steps that led up to a fissure in the ceiling above us. I wasn’t sure where the opening would lead, but it seemed our best chance for escape.

I thought I should go first, just in case, but I knew Angelina would never allow me to leave her alone in the sewers, so I pushed her ahead of me. “I’m right behind you,” I vowed.

She scrambled up quickly, faster than I could manage, and she disappeared through the gap before I could insist that she wait for me. I was less steady on the uneven steps, and I released a relieved breath when I finally surfaced on the other side.

Angelina was already reaching for me.

“I’m not sure where we are.” I looked around. “I don’t recognize anything.”

The area we found ourselves in was more industrial than residential, with large darkened warehouses and storage depots. I couldn’t see any of the destruction from the bombs in this section of town, so I assumed that there were no military facilities nearby. The crevice we’d emerged through was just that, a crack in the ground, but thankfully there was no one around to witness our emergence from the opening.

I had no real grasp of time, other than that it was late, which was confirmed by the curtain of night that surrounded us. I didn’t know if it was before or after curfew, so we’d need to be cautious. I had to assume the worst, that the sirens had already sounded and that we were breaking the law by being out here.

The first thing I was aware of was that electricity had been restored and that streetlamps glowed brightly in the night. I figured our best bet was to just choose a direction . . . eventually something had to be familiar.

Angelina was tired, and I would have carried her, but I was afraid she would fall asleep in my arms, and then I’d be unable to put her down again. For now, it was better that she walked.

After a while, we began to see wholesale markets and retail shops, places that, had it been daylight, would have been open for commerce. I knew when we saw pe Jtoof tight="0eople in front of a small café that we were safe to be out. The café was loud, teeming with activity.

I heard the familiar intonations of Parshon among them, and I realized that we must be near the west side of the city. These were my people.

No matter what Xander said.

When we rounded the corner, I got my first glimpse of the devastation caused by Xander’s bombs; almost an entire city block had been annihilated. The acrid scent of smoke crept far beyond the perimeter of the damage, while black plumes still smoldered, climbing toward the night sky. I silently prayed that no one had been wounded—or worse—in these explosions.

Soldiers and guards, their blue and green uniforms now covered in soot, worked to clear away the rubble. I knew it would be faster if we navigated through the debris, but instead I tugged Angelina’s hand, signaling her to keep pace with me. I didn’t want to take the chance that the military men might notice us, so we cut left, taking the long way around the wreckage.

When we reached the other side of the decimated block, I had my first real dawning of recognition.

We were near the restaurant now—our restaurant—in the alleyways that ran behind the marketplace.

After a wrong turn, we finally found ourselves standing in the central square. I almost never came there, but I knew the place immediately, and I dragged Angelina close to me, wrapping my arm around her head to shield her eyes. I didn’t want her to see the place where men, women, and children were regularly executed, even though I couldn’t stop staring at the simply constructed scaffolding of the gallows. The hangman’s noose dangled limply, lifelessly.

“Just a little longer,” I promised once we were past it, recognizing that her steps were growing sluggish. “We’re almost there.”

Angelina said nothing in return.

As we approached the plate-glass window of our parents’ restaurant, I squeezed my sister’s hand. We could see only darkness inside, not even a flicker of light to ignite my hope that they might be in there. There was no point stopping.

I struggled to contain my emotions so that Angelina wouldn’t see my disappointment. What had I expected? I didn’t believe Brook had lied about searching the restaurant. Still, I couldn’t just give up.

We moved faster now, spurred by the fact that we were so close to our home. When I felt Angelina faltering beside me, I reached down and gathered her into my arms, finally letting her collapse against me.

There were other destroyed buildings, damage that blemished the landscape of the city, but I couldn’t take the time to reflect on those things now.

When we reached our street, anticipation made my heart stutter.

I slowed down, my pace hesitant now. I took in every tiny detail. Everything appeared so normal, practically unscathed by the violence that had rocked the city just the night before. It felt like a lifetime had passed since my parents had pushed my sister and me into the battle-scarred streets.

Ahead of us, our house stood silent and still, cloaked Jtoo.

Despair snaked around me, squeezing until I thought my lungs might collapse. At the front step, I set Angelina on the ground once more and tried the door.

Unlocked.

My parents had never left the door unlocked before.

I eased it inward, the creaking of hinges heralding our arrival. I kept Angelina behind my legs, not certain from what I was protecting her, as my throat tightened.

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