They reached the edge of the desert the next night, onschedule, then followed a river for three days, all the way tothe sea. It took them still farther north, and the Octoberchill turned as cold as any winter Tally had ever felt. Davidunpacked city-made arctic gear of shiny silver Mylar, whichTally wore over her handmade sweater, her only possessionleft from the Smoke. She was glad she’d dropped off tosleep in it the night before the Specials had invaded, so ithadn’t been lost that day like everything else.
The nights spent on board seemed to pass quickly. Onthis journey, there were none of Shay’s cryptic clues topuzzle through, no brush fires to escape, and no antiqueRusty machines descending to scare her to death. Theworld seemed to be empty except for the occasional ruins,as if Tally and David were the last people alive.
They augmented their diet with fish caught from theriver, and Tally roasted a rabbit on a fire she’d built herself.
She watched David repair his leather clothes and decidedshe would never be able to manage a needle and threadwell. He taught her how to tell time and direction from thestars, and she showed him how to open the expert softwarein the boards to optimize them for night travel.
At the sea they turned south, heading down the northernreaches of the same coastal railway that Tally had followedon her way to the Smoke. David said it had oncestretched unbroken all the way back to Tally’s home cityand beyond. But now there were large gaps in the track,and new cities built on the sea, so they had to travel inlandmore than once. But David knew the rivers, the spurs of therailroad, and the other metal paths the Rusties had leftbehind, so they made good time toward their goal.
Only the weather stopped them. After a few days’ traveldown the coast, a dark and threatening mountain of cloudsappeared over the ocean. At first, the storm seemed reluctantto come ashore, building up its nerve over a slowtwenty-four hours, the air pressure changing in a way thatmade the hoverboards jittery to ride. The storm gave plentyof warning, but when it finally arrived, it was much worsethan Tally had imagined weather could be.
She’d never faced the full force of a hurricane, exceptfrom within the solid structures of her inland city. It wasanother lesson in nature’s savage power.
For three days Tally and David huddled in a plastic tentin the shelter of a rock outcrop, burning chemical glowsticksfor heat and light, hoping the magnets in the hoverboardswouldn’t bring down a lightning strike. For the firstUGLIES 349hours, the drama of the storm kept them fascinated,amazed at its power, wondering when the next peal ofthunder would shake the cliffs. Then the driving rainbecame simply monotonous, and they spent a whole daytalking to each other about anything and everything, butespecially their childhoods, until Tally was sure that sheunderstood David better than anyone she’d ever known.
On their third day trapped in the tent they had a terriblefight—Tally could never remember about what—thatended when David stormed out and stood alone in the icywind for a solid hour. When he finally returned, it took himhours to stop shivering, even wrapped in her arms. “We’retaking too long,” he finally said.
Tally squeezed tighter. It took time to prepare subjectsfor the operation, especially if they were older than sixteen.
But Dr. Cable wouldn’t wait forever to turn David’s parents.
Every day the storm delayed them, there was a greater chancethat Maddy and Az had already gone under the knife. ForShay, the perfect age for turning, the odds were even worse.
“We’ll get there, don’t worry. They measured me everyweek for a year before I was supposed to turn. It takes timeto do it right.”
A shudder passed through his body.
“Tally, what if they don’t bother to do it right?”
The storm ended the next morning, and they emerged tofind that the world’s colors had been transformed. The350 Scott Westerfeldclouds were bright pink, the grass an unearthly green, andthe ocean darker than Tally had ever seen it, marked onlyby the foam crests of waves and a peppering of driftwooddriven into the sea by the wind. They rode all day to makeup for lost time, in a state of shock, amazed that the worldcould still exist after the storm.
Then the railway turned inland, and a few nights laterthey reached the Rusty Ruins.
The ruins looked smaller, as if the spires had shrunk sinceTally had left them behind more than a month before,headed to the Smoke with nothing but Shay’s note and aknapsack full of SpagBol. As she and David passed throughthe dark streets, the ghosts of the Rusties no longer seemedto threaten from the windows.
“The first time I came here at night, this place reallyscared me,” she said.
David nodded. “It’s kind of creepy how well preservedit is. Of all the ruins I’ve seen, it looks the most recent.”
“They sprayed it with something to keep it up forschool trips.” And that was her city in a nutshell, Tally realized.
Nothing left to itself. Everything turned into a bribe,a warning, or a lesson.
They stowed most of their gear in a collapsed buildingfar from the center, a crumbling place that even truantuglies would probably avoid, packing only water purifiers,a flashlight, and a few food packets. David had never beenUGLIES 351any closer to the city than the ruins, so Tally took the leadfor once, following the vein of iron that Shay had shownher months before.
“Do you think we’ll ever be friends again?” she asked asthey hiked toward the river, lugging their boards for thefirst time the entire trip.
“You and Shay? Of course.”
“Even after . . . you and me?”
“Once we’ve rescued her from the Specials, I figureshe’ll forgive you for just about anything.”
Tally was silent. Shay had already guessed that Tallyhad betrayed the Smoke. She doubted anything would evermake up for that.
Once they reached the river, they shot down the whitewater at top speed, glad to be finally free of the heavysaddlebags. With the spray hitting her face, the roar ofwater all around her, Tally could almost imagine this wasone of her expeditions, back when she was a carefree citykid and not a . . .
What was she now? No longer a spy, and she couldn’tcall herself a Smokey anymore. Hardly a pretty, but shedidn’t feel like an ugly, either. She was nothing in particular.
But at least she had a purpose.
The city came into view.
“There it is,” she called to David over the churningwater. “But you’ve seen cities before, right?”
“I’ve been this close to a few. But not much closer.”
352 Scott WesterfeldTally gazed down at the familiar skyline, the slendertrails of fireworks silhouetting the party towers and mansions.
She felt a pang of something like homesickness, butmuch worse. The sight of New Pretty Town had once filledher with longing. Now the skyline was like a vacant shell,all its promises gone. Like David, she had lost her home.
But unlike the Smoke, her city still existed, right in front ofher ............