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  “He wanted it. He asked me to do it, Major,” I said.

  “Oh, did he?” Pike pushed the chair backwards a few inches as he let go, thrusting his arms up into the air. He paced three steps back toward the door, then turned around to look at me again. “You do not make decisions like that! You’re a civilian. When I order you around, you obey. I told you not to take that shot.”

  “I’m a civilian,” I echoed. “Exactly why I actually don’t have to listen to you.”

  Fire reared behind Pike’s eyes and his fingers contorted as he tried not to make fists, tried not to bend to the instinct that was, I was sure, telling him to throttle me.

  “Major,” Captain Marks interjected. “Chelsea and Trevor developed many ways of keeping in touch a long time ago. As I’m sure you remember, it was part of the reason Chelsea was able to contact Trevor about General Allen’s attacks the first time. They have code words and phrases, and different mediums with which to communicate those things.”

  Pike’s glare flew to Captain Marks’s, and I was honestly scared to learn who’d win in a fight. I’d put my money on Captain Marks any day. It wasn’t like he thought of Trevor and me and the other interns as his children, but we were all his crew. And you did not mess with a captain’s crew. His family.

  “What’s your point?” Major Pike spat.

  “After General Allen used the Lifestone to make himself immortal, he was going to kill me. But you guys were coming and Trevor pointed out to him that now wasn’t the time. He told the General to escape and that he’d take care of killing me himself. That was when he gave me the message; it was threaded in between his words to the General. Trevor was convinced there was no other way out of the situation.”

  “I don’t care if he asked for it!” Pike shouted. He jabbed a finger in the air at me with every passing syllable. “He could have begged for all I care. We don’t leave anyone behind. We do not let people die, especially when there are other options. The anti-powers weapon was on its way. We would have had him immobilized and powerless in minutes. Contained him. Saved him.”

  “You’re a fool,” I said, and the very millisecond the words left my mouth, I regretted them.

  Major Pike sucked in a loud, angry breath. This was only the second time I’d ever seen him completely lose his cool, and it terrified me. As much as one could terrify someone this numb, anyway. He swung toward General Holt and said, “I want her off the team. Off of TAO’s staff in general. I can’t trust her and I sure as hell don’t trust her around this base, any Link Pieces, or anything having to do with this war ever again. Especially if she’s powerless; she’s of no use to us.”

  The last statement bit deep into my bones. It wasn’t untrue. The main reason TAO had caught interest in me to begin with was because Dr. Hill had figured out I was an Atlantean super soldier. Then SeaSatellite5 had gone missing and everything had snowballed from there.

  To him, if I didn’t have powers and Dr. Hill was more qualified than me on everything else, I was a useless expense on TAO’s budget. One they couldn’t afford anymore.

  What they didn’t realize—and what I hadn’t told even Captain Marks—was that I actually did have my powers. They’d come back to me the moment Trevor had died. The sudden and complete awareness of the water around me had slammed into me, had made me lightheaded.

  Even if it’d save me now, I wouldn’t tell them this. I’d just make things worse.

  General Holt’s expression remained impressively impartial when faced with Pike’s infamous fury.

  “Did you hear me?” Pike added when he’d received no response.

  Oh, shit.

  General Holt’s left eyebrow rose in annoyance. “Yes, Major, I did. Watch yourself.” He paused for what seemed like an eternity before saying, “Chelsea, I’m inclined to agree with Major Pike. We were indeed working on ways of disarming Trevor long enough to bring him in.”

  “And what, sedate him until we somehow magically figured out how he’d stolen my powers and reversed it?” I let out. I didn’t care. Whatever was coming my way had been en route the moment those two bullets had left my gun. In this twisted way, I’d saved Trevor. I’d kept General Allen from getting the Waterstar map he wanted and needed to complete his transition into Immortal All-Powerful Asshole. They could handle the rest of the General’s dismantling. “There were no other ways, General.”

  “I want you off this base within a half hour,” Major Pike cut in. “If you so much as ever tiptoe on military property again, including SeaSat5, you’ll be headed for jail. And if I ever see your face here at TAO —”

  “You are absurdly out of line, Major,” Captain Marks said, finally attempting to step in. We were on his station, after all. What went on here should have fallen under his jurisdiction. But, as Major Pike was so happy to point out, I wasn’t military. That made my chain of command, my ability to be policed by them, a very deep grey area. “You are not in charge of TAO any more than you are in charge here. You need to remember that.”

  “You’re not in charge of TAO either,” Pike said. “And last I checked, they both still worked for us.”

  “You’re not in charge either, sir,” Captain Marks corrected. “Back off my crew member.”

  “Actually, we were assigned to Atlas—”

  Captain Marks cut me off with a look so impatient that it shut me up immediately. Impressive, as no one had ever accomplished that before.

  Major Pike’s eyes narrowed. “She hasn’t been a part of SeaSat5’s crew in years. The best you lot do is take her in and coddle her after every mistake she makes.”

  Embarrassment coursed through me. That was an odd emotion to have, considering all that’d just happened.

  I fidgeted in my seat for a few seconds before I couldn’t take the silence anymore. Slowly, so as not to startle Pike in his ferocious state, I stood. “Thank you, Captain Marks, for stepping in on my behalf. But I don’t want to hurt anyone more than I already have. I’m out.” I looked to Pike. “I quit. You win.”

  The words brought more unexpected satisfaction than I’d thought they would. After years of debating between leading a normal life and this, between the band and chasing SeaSat5, between life with Trevor here and life with Trevor back home, this decision seemed a no-brainer. If I couldn’t work with Link Pieces and help take down General Allen once and for all, then I’d leave. I didn’t think I’d want to be here much longer anyway, lost inside the halls of SeaSat5 that’d seen Trevor’s and my relationship blossom.

  I reached up and stripped off the TAO badges from my uniform, which I still wore from earlier today. They were dirty and bloodied—Valerie’s blood—but they hadn’t allowed me to change my clothes.

  Major Pike eyed me as I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to shield my goose-bumped skin against the bitter cold of General Holt’s stare.

  “I wish I could say it’s been great, but…” I trailed off. My gaze met General Holt’s. “Thank you.”

  He didn’t say anything. We were back to our staring contest. Our last one.

  I brushed by Pike on my way to the door. Captain Marks put a hand on my upper arm as I went to pass him. I shook my head.

  If he was going to try reinstating me as a member of SeaSat5 and go fighting Pike’s military property exile recommendation, now wasn’t the time to do it. I was sure Admiral Dennett could swing something, but to be honest, it wasn’t something I could consider right now.

  I had no idea what I wanted. I just knew nothing felt right anymore.

  I didn’t feel anymore.

  Part II

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  TREVOR

  Valerie had lied.

  Except she hadn’t been the only willing party, and so the only person I now had to blame for Chelsea’s soul-ripping pain was myself. I’d stayed away for as long as I could. Three whole months, and now… Now it had all been for nothing.

  I hit the “watch again” icon on the video.

  “Thank you guys for comi
ng out tonight. I really appreciate it,” Chelsea said from the stage. “It means a ton that you’d help me celebrate my last show. And if this really is the end, I’d love to sing one last song with you guys. Just you and me. I know you all know this one.” She tugged up the strap of her acoustic guitar and started the opening chords to a cover of a song called “Memory” by some once-famous band.

  I hadn’t heard of this band, or the apparently-popular-as-hell song before I’d caught a video of her last concert as lead singer of Phoenix and Lobster.

  The video was dated to four weeks ago. I’d watched it at least four hundred times since then.

  That was the worst part about faking your own death. Not waiting for someone to figure it out, so you can apologize or explain yourself, but this. Worse was watching the woman I loved fall apart and leave everything behind because she didn’t know the truth. But this wasn’t like all those times I’d lied to her in the past. When I’d hid information about the war or what she was, or about the map in my head. No. Me faking my death had more layers than that.

  The Greyhound bus shook as it rolled over uneven roads. I swiped the budding sweat at the back of neck and tore my gaze from my phone screen to the scenery outside. From everything I’d heard, it wasn’t supposed to get this hot in New Hampshire, but climate change did awful things. The other passengers didn’t appear to be handling the humid air any better. Maybe at the campsite the air would lighten and the heat would be tolerable.

  Green forests like I’d never known growing up consumed the rolling hills and small mountains around me. In a few short months, their masses would bloom with reds and oranges and yellows. The leaves were able to change—die, really—and still be beautiful. I envied that.

  When I’d died, I’d left a wreck of chaos behind me. TAO, destroyed by a White City ship’s laser. Chelsea, exiled and alone. Abby, who’d been taken by White City soldiers not part of the General’s original plan. Or maybe it was. I didn’t know. I hadn’t found Abby yet, though I’d rescued Valerie from bleeding out on the ground. She’d lied about how that fight was going to go down, too. But circumstances had changed, so I guess Valerie couldn’t be blamed for everything. And yet, every military officer who’d grown to respect me over the years, every friend I’d made, thought I was a traitor, the villain of this story we’d created.

  They weren’t wrong, but they didn’t know everything.

  The video of Chelsea’s concert ended and I closed out of it. In the distance lay the camp’s sign, and I’d have to be on top of things to not screw this up.

  Your name is Ethan. Ethan. Not Trevor. Ethan. And along with “Ethan” came a whole new appearance too. I wouldn’t even look the same to anyone who’d known me before.

  What have I done?

  The Greyhound pulled up to the front of New Hampshire’s Archaeology Summer Camp a few minutes later. Ten in the morning, right on schedule. I hadn’t ridden a bus since I’d run from SeaSat5 during shore leave years ago. Had it really only been three and a half years since then? Sometimes an eternity seemed to have passed since I’d first met Chelsea, and I often forgot that we’d only spent a small part of that time actually together.

  Other passengers clambered to get off the humid bus, but I sat still, running my gaze over the camp. I saw two main buildings, one much larger than the other. Probably the mess hall and main office. Behind them and scattered in a circle were a number of smaller log cabins. Bathrooms had been sprinkled throughout, actual structures instead of Porta-Potties, which was relieving. I wasn’t sure how long I’d have to be here for, but I preferred real bathrooms.

  Then again, after the last few months, I’d do anything to be close to Chelsea again. I’d definitely been through worse.

  When the bus had almost emptied out, save for others headed farther north, I stood and grabbed my duffle from the overhead compartment and departed with a wave to the bus driver. The camp counselors already present at the camp gathered us newbies in front of the main office. I shouldered my duffle as they spoke, my eyes constantly looking for the one counselor I’d actually come here to see.

  “Welcome to Archaeology Summer Camp, wave two,” one counselor, a much older man with glasses and greying hair, said. “We’re excited to welcome another round of counselors and students. You’ll be separated out today, two of you for every teacher here.”

  I wouldn’t be teaching archaeology, but I’d faked enough records to convince them I knew enough to be competent. I wasn’t sure how true that’d turn out to be. I’d planned on researching the area’s history and other archaeological digs, but between the aftermath of my death and working out the logistics to get here, I’d run out of time.

  “I’m Dr. Penny,” the older man continued. “I’ll hand out your assignments. Drop your bags at the counselors’ cabins, then head out to your teachers. They’ll already be out with the students for the morning.” He called us up in pairs, handed each person a folder and name badge on a lanyard, and sent us on our way.

  I was paired up with a guy who looked like he was fresh out of a grad school in California. “Hey, man,” he said, extending a hand. “Cody.”

  I shook it. “Ethan.”

  “Are you teaching or babysitting?” he asked, grinning as we trekked across the campground to the counselors’ cabins.

  “Babysitting?”

  Cody shrugged. “That’s what I’m preferring to call it. This counts as an internship for me, and then I get to graduate in the fall and go on to better things. When they say don’t major in archaeology, they’re not kidding.”

  Oh, fantastic. I’d been paired up with a kid who didn’t care. If I ended up having to shoulder all the weight, it’d give me less time to do what I needed to. Especially since, as my gaze found the name of the teacher we’d been assigned to, my stomach dropped. I’d only banked on being in the same close quarters as Chelsea to enact this part of the plan, not actually working with her.

  Cody had apparently found the same bit of information because his eyes widened. “No way. She isn’t—”

  “Doubt she’ll want anyone pointing it out,” I said.

  “You’re a Phoenix and Lobster fan, too? Right on. Knew we’d make a great team.” He rushed on to the cabin ahead to dump his stuff.

  I rolled my eyes. Great, a grad student child who’d not only probably leave all the work to me, but he’d also fanboy over Chelsea the entire time. Like I needed more tension in this situation. Still, she couldn’t have expected much different. Since the Juxe shows a while back, Phoenix and Lobster’s fame had skyrocketed. It had after the hijacking, too, since her name had been tied to both SeaSat5 and the band. But the Juxe shows had gotten them a record deal and an EP. The fan concert series and the tour thereafter—where she’d played her final show as lead singer of Phoenix and Lobster—had put their name and songs in the mouth of half the nation.

  Chelsea couldn’t have counted on blending in, even if she’d retreated to a high school summer camp in the middle of New Hampshire.

  The counselors’ cabins looked exactly like the log cabins for the students, only bigger. Cody and I had been assigned the same space, a ten-by-ten-foot corner with bunkbeds. He’d already claimed the top bunk. Whatever. I tossed my duffle onto the bed underneath his and slipped my lanyard over my head.

  “Ready?” I asked him.

  “Yeah.”

  Ten minutes of hiking through green forests and over worn dirt paths later, we came across the site for the summer. An intermittent cool breeze swirled through the hot air, but despite the sweating, it actually wasn’t so bad in the shade. The kids, all dozen of them, turned as Cody and I approached and announced our presence.

  Chelsea sat in the middle of them all, squatted over one of the dig pits. A hat covered her honey-blonde hair and she’d dressed in shorts and a navy blue tank top with boots. She wiped sweat from her brow and looked up to us.

  My heart stopped. Somehow, even here, covered in sweat and dirt, and despite knowing what’d led to her
being here instead of where she was needed—where she was protected—Chelsea looked more beautiful than I’d ever seen her. She smiled up at Cody and me, trowel in hand, and that was when I saw it.

  She was happy. At least, she was doing what made her happy. It wasn’t the band and it wasn’t traveling through time, but archaeology had been her first love before either of those two other things had ever existed for her. Even if she had to do it while also keeping twelve high schoolers in line.

  “New blood!” one kid—he had to have been a freshman—yelled. He high-fived two others.

  “I don’t think so, buddy,” Chelsea called. “You prank another one of my counselors and it’s dirt bucket duty for you, Zach.”

  His companions ooh-ed him like it was the worst punishment ever.

  Zach nodded quickly and returned to sifting dirt. “Yes, Ms. Danning.”

  A satisfied grin made its way across Chelsea’s face before she stood. She wiped her hands on her shorts and made her way over to Cody and me. “Welcome to camp.”

  She shook Cody’s hand first and he introduced himself, but cotton filled my ears and my mouth and suddenly I couldn’t function at all. What if she recognized me immediately, past all the glamour and fake exterior? Magic had given me a body that wasn’t mine. Hair too dark, face too square, muscles I didn’t feel. She shouldn’t recognize me, just like no one from the military had caught my face on all the public transportation cameras. No one had ambushed me in Boston. But if anyone was going to see through the glamour—aside from Valerie, who’d help create it—it’d be Chelsea.

  She’d seen me once before when no one else would, after all. Seeing me, making me feel real and alive, was her super power.

  If that happened, if she recognized me, I couldn’t decide if she’d be happy or pissed or scared. I had no way of knowing what, if any, of my message had gotten through to her, and if she’d somehow read between all the lines I’d left blank. The words our code wasn’t designed to cover. I’d planned on easing into all of this eventually once I got here to camp, but if she recognized me on the spot, I had no backup plan.