The Pledge (The Pledge 1)

I rushed forward, practically falling over my own feet in my panic to get to the shelter beyond the doors. The burning muscles of my arms were screaming at me to set my sister down, to force her to walk on her own two feet, but again, I couldn’t make myself do it. I needed to feel her against me. She was all that kept me going.

Before we could reach the doors, one of the men stepped forward, holding out his hand in warning, motioning us to stay back. “There’s no more room. You’ll have to find shelter elsewhere.”

My heart twisted and despair strangled me, making it difficult to speak. “We—we can’t go back out there. It’s too dangerous on the streets.” I took a step closer, hoping they could hear me.

The second guard, a man with copper-red hair and sallow skin, fingered the trigger of his weapon, a rifle that he held across his thin chest. It was a grave warning. “That’s not our problem. The tunnels are full.”

My mother’s words haunted me, her pleas that I take care of Angelina at all costs.

I ignored my instincts and took another step in their direction. “At least let her inside,” I begged, pulling Angelina away from me. She fought me, struggling to hold on, but I was stronger than she was, and I pried her fingers free. “She’s small, and she won’t take up any space at all. Please.”

Angelina’s breath caught as I shook her off. My heart was breaking, but I couldn’t let her see that. I had to be strong.

The red-haired guard, the one with the gun, moved so suddenly that all I could do was watch in stunned silence. He shifted his rifle to his shoulder, readying and aiming it with lightning speed. I didn’t have time to stoop out of the way. All I could do was reach for Angelina and drag her back to me.

Sydney gasped, reminding me that she was still with us.

I stared at the weapon, blinking, my chest squeezing as I lifted my hand. “I—I’m s-sorry.” My voice shook as violently as my hand. “We d-don’t want trouble.”

I heard Max’s footsteps rushing up behind me, but I didn’t turn around, even when I felt his hand grip my shoulder. I kept all my attention on the rifle instead, as I took first one, and then another, cautious step backward, easing Angelina behind me.

But it was the actions of the first guard that confused me most of all, as a look of alarm flashed briefly across his face, and then he moved even faster than the red-haired man had. His arm shot out sideways, his fingers curling over the shaft of the gun as he twisted hard, disarming the red-haired sentry in one swift motion. The guard, who had just moments earlier held a weapon aimed at my heart, looked stunned by the sudden turn of events.

He opened his mouth to say something, to protest, but the first guard cut him off with a scathing glare, making it more than clear which of the pair was in charge.

And then the first guard reached for the door. He opened it and stepped aside, indicating that we could pass. All of us.

I snapped my head around to glance at Max, to see if he understood what had just happened, but he was already shoving Sydney through the doorway, and I could no longer see his face.

I picked up Angelina and followed the two of them, casting a wary glimpse at the guards as we passed.

Behind us, the doors closed again.

The first thing I was aware of was the darkness. It wasn’t complete, this darkness, but it was broken only in places by the flicker of lanterns and the pale glow of handheld lights. Definitely not enough to see where I was walking.

Once again, I was thankful for Max’s pocket light so we could pick our way through the overcrowded platforms in search of a place to rest.

That was the second thing I noticed: the people. Everywhere. Crammed together.

It was quieter down here, below the streets. Away from the sirens. But there was a hushed desperation that filled every ounce of space, every recess, making even the air feel thicker and harder to breathe. I could smell the worry.

We stepped carefully, avoiding legs and feet in our path, the small light’s beam scanning for an opening where we could stop and rest. When I could bear it no longer, I set Angelina down, squeezing her fingers tightly in an unspoken assurance that I wouldn’t release her. I pushed her in front of me, keeping her back pressed against me, my free hand on her shoulder to guide her.

When it became clear that we wouldn’t find a spot on the platforms, Max turned his light downward, onto the oily, dirt-caked tracks below. Faces stared back at us from the shaft of light, and Max moved it quickly over them, scanning, searching.

“There,” he finally said, pointing the light toward an opening. Although it was less an opening than it was a slight gap in the mass of people huddled atop the gravel on the far side of the unused tracks.

I agreed, it seemed the best we’d be able to do. And even though it would be a tight fit, at least we could all stay together.

Max dropped down from the platform, his feet crunching in the loose rocks below as he found a narrow space to stand between the bodies. He reached for Sydney’s hand, and I hated the twinge of jealousy I felt at seeing them touch again.

But I didn’t have time to dwell on it, because next he was reaching for Angelina. She went to him, this time without hesitation, and I was surprised by her willingness to trust him so easily, so soon. She was normally reserved, careful with whom she let down her guard. Yet her instincts were infallible.

Even in the shadows, I saw the sliver of a smile on her lips as Max set her gently to the ground. And then she reached for Sydney’s hand while she waited for me.