Outside the Box - Chapter 21

21

The guard frowns as I begin to lower my weapon, but Miguel doesn’t. A sense of panic fills me but Miguel leaps into action. 

There’s the sound of a gun being fired followed by splashing and yelps as Miguel slams the butt of his gun into the guards head. Then he shoots the guard for good measure, turning to smile at me proudly. 

But then he catches sight of something behind me. 

Ezra. There was a gun shot, I recall hearing the sound. I whip around to find the blonde boy lying on his back in the water now tinted red. 

I want to say he’s gone, I want to tell Miguel it’s too late. 

I slowly walk to him, bending over and placing my fingers on his neck like he did so long ago. And then I feel it. 

The pulse is quick, and weak. I want to cry, I want to do something to help Ezra. But what can I do? 

What will I tell Aspen? 

I search for the wound, finding it on his lower stomach and hip. There is a chance he could survive. There is a chance his heart could keep beating. But there are probably more reinforcements coming and there’s no possible way for Miguel and I to drag Ezra up more floors to the roof and load him onto a boat. 

“Ezra,” I whisper. He coughs weakly, and that catches Miguel’s attention. The older boy seems on the verge of tears, which is perfectly reasonable. 

“I … won’t make it,” Ezra coughs, a dribble of blood spilling form the corner of his mouth. “It … hurts. And … I’ll just … burden you.” He coughs again, Miguel finally seems to reach our sides. The older boy seems sluggish and slow. 

“Ezra, don’t talk like that,” Miguel says, his voice raspy. “We can carry you.” 

“No,” Ezra refuses. “Don’t … worry.” 

And then he does something unthinkable. His hand reaches down and then his finger wrap around the hilt of the tiny knife we gave him. “Tell … Aspen … sorry,” he whimpers, I can feel his pain almost. 

“Ezra, I can’t…” I begin, but his pale eyes bore into me. 

“It hurts,” he manages to squeak, face contorting in pain. “Can’t live with … your blood … my hands.” 

“You think I want your blood on my hands?” I protest. 

“It won’t be,” Ezra tells me. “My … choice.” 

I shake my head, salty tears dripping down my face. I won’t let him go, I can’t and I won’t. I reach for his hand to squeeze it before we move him, but he presses the blade into my palm. “Please,” he begs. 

I can see pain clouding his eyes. I look up to ask Miguel silently, but the older boy has turned away so I can’t see him cry. 

“It hurts,” Ezra repeats again. “Jake …” 

“I know, I know,” I sigh, my heart in my throat. “I don’t want to let you go.” 

“Do it,” Ezra hisses. “Do it for Aspen. Do it for me. I don’t want … you to die … for me.” 

He coughs again, spraying a fine mist of blood into the air. I grasp the knife in my hand, unsure of what to do. 

Do I obey Ezra and kill him? Do I listen to my heart and save him? 

I wish he would’ve asked Miguel. I selfishly want Miguel to be the strong one here so I can hide and cry like him. Or if maybe I had gone with the girls I wouldn’t have to do this. 

“Why you?” I ask him, tears pouring down my face freely now. 

“Because if you’re in a garden, which flowers do you pick?” he whispers, his own face shining with silvery tears. “You pick the most beautiful ones. The … innocent ones.” 

His face contorts with pain. I want to praise him for being strong so far, but I can’t have positivity in this situation. My fingers squeeze the knife again and I begin to wish I had never jumped in the first place. 

I close my eyes, holding back tears as I let instincts take control. I grab the nearest gun off the floor, dropping the knife. 

I hold it against Ezra’s head and pull the trigger, jumping at the sound. Miguel jumps too, his eyes brimming with even more tears. The warmth of Ezra fades beside me as his eyes close for a final time and his chest stills. 

I want to wrap my arms around someone. Anyone. Aspen could hold me as I cry. She could rub my back, comfort me. 

Or Leah. Or Dr. Barron even. Maybe my parents. 

But none of them are here. Ezra was here, and he wanted Miguel and I to escape. He knew he wouldn’t make it - and him being saved would only put Miguel and I in danger. 

I can’t waste his sacrifice. “Miguel?” I whisper, and the he looks at me, eyes filled with sorrow. “I’m sorry.” 

Miguel says, nothing he storms ahead, anger clouding his expression as he continues onwards. I grab a discarded gun and Ezra’s knife, sticking the blade in my pocket. My heart leaps into my throat again as I turn and see his body, lying still. 

Aspen will never forgive me. 

Miguel will never forgive me. 

I will never forgive me. 

I don’t look back. I keep my head up, guessing the passages at this point. Miguel isn’t speaking to me, he only tells me that I’m going the wrong way twice before he ends up taking the lead. 

We should be approaching the roof soon enough. I also expect the guards to catch up soon too. But all my mind can focus on is Ezra’s limp body. 

I want to cry and shout but I keep my composure. Miguel and I can’t lose the advantage we have - stealth and being ahead. The guards will kill us - I have no doubt their aim will not miss this time. 

Three turns and a staircase later, Miguel and I have reached the hatch that leads to the roof. The bolt is stuck and both Miguel and I have to push hard to get it to open. The water is beginning to seep up the steps now and I know even if we would’ve left Ezra he would have drowned by now. 

He was right. Miguel and I would not have made it with his weight. 

I don’t want to think about it. 

After a minute of pushing, pulling, and prying at the bolt it swings upwards and the hatch opens, letting in more sheets of rain. 

The water pounds against me, and as I climb onto the roof I nearly lose my balance on the slick cement. Miguel climbs up after me, slamming the hatch behind him. It’s nearly impossible to see in the downpour, but I manage to spot a figure not far away. 

It’s Leah - her hair soaked. “My mother got the boats out, and Mental is lifting them up. C’mon, we don’t have much time before they leave.” 

“Let’s go!” I call out to Miguel, who follows me. Leah looks for Ezra but when she meets my eyes understanding fills her and she averts her gaze. 

“We lost about ten of the citizens so far - and all of the Clans are underwater entirely. No one survived,” Leah tells me as she begins to walk slowly on the wet roof. 

“And the Hidden?” Miguel prompts, almost losing his footing. 

“Gone,” Leah replies quietly. “My mom tried to convince the guards that they could be used as hostages, but it was too late. All of them are dead.” 

I feel a pang of loss for all of the Hidden. For Quinn. For Caspian. For Warner - the boy who helped me discover myself. All of them are gone. And since the Clans are underwater I can assume all of the others are dead as well. Dr. Sybil - unless she’s on the hovercraft.” 

Leah slips, causing me to fall as well. Miguel hoists us back up and I can hear a roar of an engine. The hovercraft must not be too far away. 

I can see it not far ahead, the ship still perched on the roof as the hovercraft is secured to it. I can see all of the citizens standing on the deck, loading up boxes with food. Among them I spot Aspen and Dr. Barron - unharmed. 

We’re almost at the pulleys to lift us up when there’s a slam from behind us. 

The hatch slams open, and more guards climb out, guns raised. The citizens are oblivious above us, still working as fast as they can. 

One of the guards slips and their guns fires. Immediately, the citizens of the Box bolt upright, panicked expressions on their faces. They work faster, herding the kids below deck. Aspen looks around but I guess she can’t see us. 

I’m drenched and cold. Tired and sorrowful. 

Nevertheless, Miguel and I raise our guns. Leah pulls a gun out of nowhere and levels it. 

The guards begin to fire at us, bullets pinging of the sleek metal sides of the boat. Miguel and I duck and dodge, Leah hops to the side and ducks behind a large crate. She fires around the side, pegging off a good amount of guards. 

I manage to hit a few as well, mainly aiming for the ones next to the ones on the end. If I can hit those guys, they might fall on the others and knock them off the roof. 

I hit some more, my gun forming bullets from the rain around us. I guess it takes stuff in the air and compresses it. The science doesn’t matter - what matters is my life or my death. I would prefer to live at the moment. 

Leah squeals as a bullet flies by and embeds itself in the crate just inches above her hand. 

Miguel drops to the ground as several bullets fly by his head. 

But I keep fighting, adrenaline the only thing keeping me on my feet now. Adrenaline and the need to avenge Ezra pump through my veins. 

My hands are shaking now and nearly all of my bullets are missing. The guards are beginning to switch up tactics, advancing quickly - but still not running because of the rain. They’re firing, but not as often. 

And they’re beginning to switch guns like they realize that electricity might be better in this situation. 

Leah screams as a bullet tears across her shoulder, missing the bone and going straight through the skin. She drops to the ground, covering her head with her arm -  overcome by pain and too distracted to aim straight. 

Suddenly, an idea takes to my mind. 

“Cover me,” I shout to Miguel, who nods. I drop to my stomach, investigating the gun I’m holding. Just as I suspected, there’s a small dial on one side that allows me to change the bullet - although there are stars for limited ammunition. 

I select electricity shots on my dial and jump to my feet. “Catch,” I yell to Miguel. 

He seems to get the message and grabs my gun, throwing me his. I quickly drop again and switch the settings. I can hear the crackle of electricity as it hits some of the guards. 

A few of them topple off the roof but I can’t focus on that. I jump to my feet and begin to aim randomly at places where it seems like the guards are unaffected. They begin to catch on to what Miguel and I are doing, and they to run straight at us. 

Some of them fall. Some of them topple off the roof to the rushing waters below. 

A few manage to get close to us, but Leah seems to be in shock. She grabs her gun and fires at them so that they back away enough for Miguel and I to hit them. 

I’m doing well until a fiery pain tears into my leg. I drop to the ground, rolling as I grit my teeth. Someone must’ve managed to hit me. I force back tears, the warm blood seeping through the hole in my pants. 

I can’t tell if the bullet went through or if it hit bone. I can only feel pain before my entire body seems to go numb. That’s probably not a good thing. 

Miguel and Leah are firing off, but there seems to be a good twenty or so guards left. One of them tosses something and us, and I instinctively cover my head. But instead of it being a smoke bomb or something of the sort, it turns out to be something that disables our guns. 

Leah shouts something I can’t understand. Miguel yells something back, and then drops to the ground in a roll. He leaps up right in front of the guards and punches one in the face. 

The other guards attempt to retaliate, but they only manage to hit their own people. Miguel weaves through the guards like he’s been doing this his whole life. Leah joins in, punching with her good arm. 

“Jake!” I catch Miguel calling. “The crate!” 

The crate? What would be in the crate that could help us? I don’t have a clue, but Miguel’s frantic tone makes me decide that any pain I feel is worth it. 

I clutch my injured leg before ripping a piece of my shirt and tying it around like a bandage. Blood stains tha fabric immediately, but it doesn’t matter. I grit my teeth and fight through the pain. 

The crate isn’t far away and I manage to make it there in a moment or so. 

There is a latch on the side of the crate, which I can reach from the ground. The walls of the crate fall open revealing an assortment of weird looking contraptions. I don’t know what the crate was doing on the roof until I realize Dr. Marks was probably planning an escape. 

I investigate the instruments, sorting through as my leg throbs in protest. I almost black out for a moment reaching for a device that looks helpful. 

On it is a label that reads: Critical Info - Do NOT Lose. 

I toss it at the guards, but it has no affect. Apparently they don’t care about labels anymore. I find a similar looking device that appears to be a grenade. 

“Miguel! Leah!” I call out, and they both pause for a moment before rolling out of the way. I chuck the grenade and it lands in the center of the guards. Immediately, a blossom of flame and sparks of electricity forms on the roof. 

Neither Leah or Miguel are hit by the blast, luckily. They rush towards me, slipping and sliding on the slick rooftop. 

Miguel hooks his arms under my armpits and hoists me to my feet. “The hovercraft is leaving!” he cries, pointing upwards. Leah screams for it and the pulley is beginning to lift off the ground by now. 

“We need to get on!” Leah yells at us. She grabs my legs and begins to half drag me towards the pulley. 

Miguel and Leah are a strong pair, but they can’t nearly move fast enough. The wooden board that would pull us up is six inches off the ground now. “Let me run!” I protest. “I can make it.” 

Leah just rolls her eyes but Miguel lowers me. “He’s right. We’ll never make it like this. Jake can handle it, and as soon as we’re up there we can get help.” 

I nod in thanks. Leah helps me to my feet, which makes me yelp in pain. 

And then we run. Ten yards. Eight. Five. Three. One. 

The board is two feet off the ground now and the hovercraft is struggling to pull the ship off the building. Leah and Miguel pretty much throw me onto the board, making me howl. 

They climb on just as the hovercraft seems to gain the strength it needed. 

The boat lifts into the air and Leah and Miguel begin to work on the pulley system. The rain is beginning to let up, now a light drizzle. I want to cry out, but won’t. I need to be strong. 

The pulley reaches the top and the citizens nearest to us scream. Dr. Barron and Aspen hurry over to us, looking panicked. 

Dr. Barron sees my leg and gasps, immediately running to find a first aid kit I suppose. 

But Aspen just eyes us nervously, scanning for a familiar blonde haired kid. I don’t have the heart to tell her, but Miguel leans back against the side of the boat and closes his eyes. “Who is driving this thing?” he mumbles, clutching his stomach. 

“It’s on autopilot. There’s no one in the craft,” Aspen explains. But she crosses her arms and taps her foot, her eyes rimming red as she doesn’t see her brother with us. I can tell she’s bugging to ask. But I don’t want to answer. Dr. Barron returns with a first aid kid and immediately gets to work on my leg. 

As she works, Aspen purses her lips as she watches Dr. Barron help us. The woman moves on to Leah and finally Miguel, who is nursing a bloody nose. 

“Jake,” Aspen asks at last. “Where is Ezra?”