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this. I keep thinking about it. I see them dying in my
dreams. I see them dying when I’m awake. When does it get better?”
    The
answer to that question stumped Sammy, too. Some days, the pain of losing Toad
or Dr. Vogt or the little girl in Akureyri wasn’t there. Other times, it felt as
fresh as the moment he’d witnessed it. “It does. It will. Don’t blame yourself.
You didn’t shoot them. The Hybrids did.” Sammy closed his eyes and saw himself again
in the red and black uniform of the Thirteens. His eyes were dyed like blood,
his face scarred, twisted, and mutilated. “I did.”
    “What
did you say?”
    “I
said the Hybrids did it, not you.”
    “No,
after that.”
    Sammy
shook his head. “Nothing.”
    Jeffie
faced him, her eyes red and puffy. So was the skin around her nostrils. “You’re
lying. You said something.” She placed her hand on his face. He saw the torment
in her eyes and knew it ran deeper than mourning the loss of her old boyfriend.
She had experienced the terror that comes with battle. It had affected her the
way it had affected him. She continued, “I keep thinking about how close I was
to—how easy it would be to die. One bullet in the wrong spot, and I’m dead. The
thought won’t leave me.”
    “You
were strong. You survived.”
    “Brickert
held himself together. He was strong; I was weak.”
    Sammy
focused on the hand touching his cheek. He enjoyed the deliberate gesture and
let his eyes close partway. “You’re not weak, Jeffie.”
    “Yes,
I am,” she whispered.
    He
shook his head. “Remember when I told you about my first encounter with them? I
was terrified, too. And I made mistakes.”
    A
tear fell from her left eye and rolled down to her jaw. “I miss my friends.”
    “I
know you do.”
    “It’s
my fault.”
    “Stop
thinking that, Jeffie. You have to let it go.”
    “I
don’t know how to do that.”
    Another
tear reached her lip. Sammy brushed it off. Jeffie took his thumb and kissed
it. Then she leaned in and kissed him. It was urgent and needy. Sammy kissed
her back, a little more confident in himself after a week’s worth of practice.
    “I’m
glad you’re here with me,” she said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
    “You’d
be fine. You’re the strongest person I know.”
    “I
don’t feel that way lately. The idea of fighting in this war scares the crap
out of me.”
    Sammy
kissed her again. “Same with me.”
    “Seriously?”
    “Seriously.”
    Jeffie
stared at him and finally smiled. “I … like you. I really like you.”
    Sammy
smiled. “Ditto.”
    “I
mean, I really, really like you.”
    “I
really, really like me, too.”
    Jeffie
grinned and rolled her eyes.
    Sammy
nudged her. “You know I like you back.”
    “Yeah.”
The way she was looking at him told him that there was more—something he wasn’t
getting. They kissed a third time. Jeffie leaned into him and put her hands on
his chest and pushed away. She exhaled forcefully. “Oh wow. We need to go to
breakfast.”
    “What?
Why?”
    “Nothing.
I just need to calm down.”
    Sammy
didn’t understand, but he got up and followed her to the kitchen. Every house
in Glasgow had a door installed leading into the tunnel system that connected
the resistance. The house Brickert and Sammy shared had a door in the kitchen
leading down into the dirt.
    They
walked through the poorly lit tunnel shafts with their fingers intertwined. The
passageways still had a faint burnt scent from the melted resin glaze lining
the walls despite that the excavation had been done months ago. Thomas said the
glaze provided structural support. As they walked, their conversation returned
to the news report they’d watched earlier.
    “You
think the NWG will even consider the armistice terms President Newberry laid
out?” Jeffie wondered.
    “Doubt
it.” Still holding hands, they made a left turn. Navigating the tunnels would
have been impossible without signs posted every few meters directing