The Fall

My father came running out of a shadow, and I had the absurd thought that exactly ten minutes had passed since our conversation. To the second.

He pressed a hand into Eren’s neck. “He’s breathing. Pulse is—fine, probably. Put this on,” he said, shoving a skin into my arms.

I wasted no time in getting the rubbery material over Eren’s feet. “I’m gonna need help lifting up his hips.”

Dad was glancing around the ceiling, a gesture that seemed out of place for him. I’d never really seen my dad get nervous. “No, Charlotte. Not on him. On you. Hurry up.”

My lips froze, mouth open, and I took a second to steel my spine. “I’m not leaving him,” I said quietly.

“It was always the plan. He has to stay here, Charlotte. There’s a chip in his k-band.”

“Then it doesn’t matter whether he stays here or not. He’s…” I trailed off, unable to finish the thought aloud. He’s dead either way.

Dad chose that moment to wrap an arm around my shoulder, a second gesture I couldn’t quite place with him, and squeeze.

I returned the embrace, surprised. We hadn’t hugged much during our last few years on Earth. He added his other arm, and for the moment, I had the irrepressible feeling that things would be okay. That no matter what, my problems were no match for my dad.

His eyes traveled down my right arm, to the place where my wrist should have been, and he hesitated before speaking. “I know. I know. But Eren knew the risks. He was very clear.”

“Are you worried about being spied on? We’ll just wrap the band up with aluminum, like you did mine.”

“It’s worse than spying, Charlotte. He’s been drugged. He could easily be dead before we get him on the Arkhopper.”

I shook my head, frustrated. No way was Adam going to win this one. “How many skins did you bring?”

“Two.”

“Two.” I said, hopping up. “So we need two more.” I trotted around the area, tapping on wall panels. A few held emergency supplies, including a military-grade first-aid kit, which I ignored, and a pressurized flare gun, which I grabbed out of habit.

“Charlotte—” he said gently.

“We can’t leave Eren. And we surecan’t leave Adam. So two more skins.”

His eyes widened. “That’s Adam? Charlotte.”

I whirled around, halfway to the other side of the hangar door, and filled my voice with lead. “Dad. I am not leaving them.”

“Well, we’re not staying here. I can’t let you—” Dad stopped, recognizing my tone, and gritted his teeth. Then he took a breath, regarding me with a measure of thoughtfulness. “I suppose it does give us some leverage.”

“Right?” I breathed a sigh of relief. At least one person didn’t think my plan was insane. I returned to my search, whacking the next panel I came to. The compartment opened to reveal one skin. One.

It was better than nothing. I lifted my chin and knocked open the rest of the panels, but it seemed that Adam had stored only enough for himself.

I turned back to Dad. “Okay. Three skins. Not ideal.”

Dad shook his head. I slid down next to Eren and began to work the skin over his boots again. “How far from here to the bay?”

“Ten feet, maybe? It’s the first ship in the hangar. Only ship, actually.”

“And Adam hasn’t disabled it?”

“We think it’s his getaway vehicle. I’m sure he’s got some trick or another up his sleeve in case someone else takes off with it. But he’s in stasis, right?”

My hand had wandered to the back of Eren’s head, and I pulled it away as casually as I could before my dad noticed. “Nope. Good old-fashioned knockout.”

Dad nodded. “That works, too,” he said slowly.

Too slowly.

He laid a hand over mine, and I stopped trying to secure the skin on Eren’s hips.

“What?” I said impatiently.

He gave me a slow look. “Charlotte.”

“What?”

“We have three skins.”

“I know.”

“We can’t leave Adam. You and I are agreed on that point.”

I pulled Eren’s head onto my legs without really thinking about it. It filled my entire lap. His face was completely relaxed. He was so helpless, in spite of his size. In that moment, there was no one but me to protect him. “I’m not leaving Eren. He never left me.”

“Eren’s unconscious, sweetheart. He can’t fly the hopper.” He lowered his voice. “You need to understand. There’s so much we don’t know about stasis. He may not wake up.”

“I’m not leaving him,” I repeated stubbornly. “I’m taking him to the doctors over there. Who knows what Adam’s done to him?”

It occurred to me that my father was as strong-willed as I’d ever been. At least I got it honestly. “Charlotte,” he said gently. “One skin for you. One for me, to fly the ship. And one…”

I pursed my lips, understanding his point at last. “For Adam. Because if he dies in the vacuum, we all do.”

Dad nodded.

“So take them. I’m the only one you don’t need. And I’ll be fine. No k-band or anything.”

“I won’t do that, Charlotte. Whatever you think you’re capable of, you’re not safe here. I’m not leaving you again.” His voice took on its own kind of strength—not anger, as I’d heard in the past, but something closer to resolution. “That’s the deal. Either you come with me, or no one does. Besides,” he smiled strangely, “if Adam didn’t kill me, Eren would.”

“So maybe we’re not going anywhere, after all,” I said. Stalemate again.

Dad looked at me, then back to the wall. “What do you want, Charlotte?”

“What do you mean?”

“What is it that you want? You’ve been fighting against things all your life. What are you fighting for these days?”

“I want—” I stopped, thinking. “I want my family back. I want the ships to be safe. All of them.” I took another long pause and leveled my gaze with his. “And I want Adam dead.”