Unbreathable

Chapter 2

He writhes on the colorless floor.

His features are contorted in pain. His body jerks against the currents of the shock blast pinning him down. I hear the snaps of electricity when his mouth opens in a soundless cry.

The soldiers run closer. I scan their faces, one by one, relieved they’re focused on the boy—until one of them looks up. I step back, fear closing my throat when I lock gazes with the soldier who shattered Father’s scope. Those pale eyes flicker in recognition. He doesn’t expect to see me, not so soon after Father’s death. Not ever.

The panic comes crashing. Now, when freedom is one step away, it takes over. It’s because of him, the pale-eyed soldier.

He killed the only family I had.

I look back at the boy as his body stills, and find him looking at me, his eyes a roaring rush of deep blue. Beautiful, I realize with a jolt. Determination sets into his face and hardens his features. But he won’t move with the soldiers surrounding him.

I trace his lips as he mouths a single word.

Run.

I stare at him. The memories come rushing back, and even as I suddenly remember him, I’m certain he doesn’t remember me. His face blurs in my vision. A sob racks my body.

I run.

  

Footsteps echo my own. I don’t have to look back to know it’s the soldier who broke Father’s scope.

He doesn’t want to catch me because I was in the Chamber. No, he wants to rectify the mistake he made in letting me live longer than my father.

I’ll end up where that boy will be tomorrow at noon. Crime is punished on Jutaire in one way only: with a noose. And if there’s one credit we can offer Chancellor Kole, it’s uniformity. Hangings only ever happen at noon, in the Gathering for all of Jutaire to see and know.

Fear edges into my vision, making the dark night even darker. I run faster, until the world is no more than a blur around me, giving me the illusion of safety, because what you can’t see can’t hurt you. My empty pouch flutters against my thigh, reminding me of my failed mission with every step. A searing pain slices through my lungs, and I can’t think straight. My muscles clench, and when I stumble once, twice, down the hill, I’m certain I won’t make it.

The soldier shouts again and I hear a few words out of the slew—wait, come back—words that confuse me. I don’t bother to slow my pace as I take off down the hill and I tumble down half way before picking myself up. Rocks scratch my face and hands. I want to freeze in the middle of our empty planet and disappear into the endless darkness above me, into the stars forever staring at me. Because what reason is there? I’ve lived a life of nothing for so long.

But when I close my eyes, I see Earth, and beside it, that boy.

Run. The single word echoes in my mind. Every time I stumble on the rocky ground underfoot, I see the soldiers bending over him, roughly pulling him to his feet. I see his eyes boring into me as if I’m not some hopeless girl whose death would never be mourned. He could have easily slipped through the door and left. But he pulled me along, even when I slowed him down.

So I don’t slow down again. I owe him that much.

When nothing but the wind howls in my ears, I pause and look back, only to confirm what I already know: the soldier is long gone. But I don’t stop until I pass the rows and rows of homes and slam my door shut and collapse on the floor.

Moonlight filters through the grimy window, illuminating a square foot of space. Words, fears, thoughts pound in my mind like the soldiers’ fists on our door three nights ago. I heave breath after breath of oxygen, now that the addicting air of Jutaire is gone. Every door seals tight as soon as it closes and almost immediately oxygen flows into our noses.

Gradually, my breathing slows to a normal pace. In the dark, images flicker one after the other. Father’s thin neck, secured in frayed rope. The boy and his intense eyes. The lies hidden in the Chamber. The pale-eyed soldier, calling me back—not ordering, I realize, but calling.

I left the safety of my home to steal something that could get me killed and possibly prove Earth exists.

Where did that courage come from?

A muffled cry shatters the silence. I start and look around, but only my pulse races in this room. The sound was my own.

I release a shuddering breath, and feel the loneliness like a weight pressing over me. Even when Father was alive I was lonely, with him stuck in his books, teaching himself to write and read. But this, this inexplicable emptiness in my heart and in my life, is different.

The sand coating the ground scratches against the soles of my feet when I shuffle to my bed. I don’t bother to light a candle before I pull the sheets over my head and disappear. Not even the tiny yellow flames like those on Earth can give me comfort now.

I pull my mask from my pocket and place it beside me, rubbing absently over the grimy, dusty surface of the Louen. It’s ironic that we owe our existence to the Jute, who we see as cruel and hurtful. Without them, we wouldn’t have Louen for our masks.

My breath catches. The boy, the soldiers—

They saw me without my mask.

They’ll come for me. The soldier with the pale eyes. Chancellor Kole. They’ll mistake me for a Jute and drag me to the border of human territory, to die beneath the acidic rain.

Does it matter?

I squash the thought down with a clench of my jaw. It does matter. I have to complete what Father started. I need to go back to the Chamber, steal the metal and glass I couldn’t steal tonight, make a scope and gather people. Together, we have a chance of building a ship. I have to believe that.

I sit up.

The boy. His straight nose, his perfect lips mouthing that one word. He didn't have a mask. He was breathing the toxic air just as I was.

Could he be like me? Deep inside, I know I’m not Jute – I can breathe oxygen, while Jute cannot. Maybe he isn’t Jute either. We haven’t seen one in human territory in years. He might know what we are.

We.

Nervousness trills through my veins as my resolve grows. If I can risk my life once, I can risk it again. If the boy is anything like me, then he could have answers. About what I am, Earth, and Father’s redemption—which will all have to wait.