“What do you mean, Painter?” she asked slowly. “What did you do?”
“They took me to the machine, Mama,” Wren said. “They wanted me to use it.”
“I di-di-didn’t mean to.”
“They’re dead? Both of them?” she asked.
Wren replied, “I think so. Connor is.”
Cass put her hand over her mouth, but Wren could tell it wasn’t from shock or disgust – she was thinking through everything, coming up with a plan.
“I th-th-thought… I don’t even know wh-why. I thought Wren was in tr-tr-trrr-trouble.”
“I did that,” Wren said. “I called you.”
“What about Able? Or Swoop?” Cass asked.
Wren shook his head. “Uncle Aron said they’d put a trace on the whole team. He said if I tried to call them, they’d know, and they’d hurt you.” It felt weird calling him “Uncle” after what had just happened.
“OK,” Cass said, getting up off the bed and grabbing her jacket. “OK. First things first. We need to get out of the compound.” She looked at Painter. “All of us.” Back to Wren. “Who else is here? In the compound?”
“We didn’t see anybody else.”
“Not even guards?”
Wren shook his head. “Do you think it was just them, Mama? Just those two?”
Cass was already moving towards her closet. “I don’t know, baby. That’ll have to wait.” She opened the closet door and pulled a small pack from the top shelf. “Is there anything you absolutely have to have? We might not be coming back here for a while.”
Wren shook his head again. The idea of leaving seemed so strange. He’d thought about it a lot the past few months, but only as a dream, never as something that might actually require planning or packing or being prepared. He tried to think of what he’d need to take, or what’d he miss, but his mind was coming up blank.
Cass tossed a coat to Wren, and then threw the pack on the bed. While Wren put his coat on, she opened the pack and quickly scanned the contents. Wren couldn’t see much, but he saw enough. It was Mama’s go-bag. Back before they’d left RushRuin, really left, for pretty much as long as he could remember, she’d kept a bag packed. Just in case, she’d always say. He’d always thought it was for an emergency. Until the day they made a run for it. It was then he realized that back then, it hadn’t been for an emergency, it’d been for an opportunity. Maybe old habits were just hard to break.
Cass looked down at her blood-smeared shirt. With a grimace, she ripped it off over her head, wadded it into a ball, and threw it in the corner. Her compression top didn’t cover very much, and Wren could see two spiraling welts on her belly, one just above her left hip, and one on her upper chest, just above her heart. They were an angry red in the center, surrounded by spidery arms of bruising. Painter made a little sound, and when Wren looked at him, his face was all red and he was looking at the floor. Cass grabbed another shirt and threw it on, and then snatched a coat out of the closet.
A thought occurred to Wren. “Wait, there is something,” he said. “In my room.”
“You need it? Absolutely need?” She was already closing the bag back up.
Wren nodded.
“Alright, let’s get it.”
She crossed the room, slinging on her pack as she moved, and stood next to the door, hand on the handle. “Painter,” she said. Painter was still just standing there in the bathroom door. He was just staring at the floor. “Painter, let’s go.”
His head snapped up and he looked at her, but it was like he hadn’t heard her. “I didn’t… mmmmean to, Cass.”
“It’s done, Painter. We need to move. Listen,” she said, and then again sharply, “Listen!” His eyes focused, like he was finally really hearing her. “Wren and I are going across to his room. We’ll come back to get you in a second. If you’re not ready, we’re leaving without you. Do you understand?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, mmma’am, I’ll buh-be ready.”
“Wren, with me.”
Wren moved to her side, and Cass placed a hand on his shoulder. Not for comfort, though. She gripped him firmly as she cracked open the door, ready to move him whatever direction might be necessary, depending on what she saw outside. After a couple of seconds scanning, Cass opened the door further and pushed Wren through, following close on his heels. He made a direct line across the hall, not even daring to look to either side. The door to his room was locked, but in the few steps it took to cross to it, he took care of it.