The Fall

“Then we have to get on that hopper. We have no allies here. This entire Ark is rigged to kill dissenters. Anyone who stands up to him. That’s why he’s lasted so long.” There was a change in his tone. “And your brother is on the European Ark.”

“Then Eren is no safer here than anyone else. Even if we leave him.”

He looked out the window. “Once the door is open, that’s it. The air will be sucked out of the area. Our intelligence is that the seal to this door will blow. A secondary seal will engage around the loading dock. He did that in some other areas so that he couldn’t be followed. This entire room will likely become a vacuum. There may be other tricks as well.”

“I don’t doubt it,” I said. “But I’m not leaving Eren.”

We sat there another moment, at a total impasse, and bit by bit, the absurdity of the situation crept over me. I had to laugh.

Dad smiled, too, friendly but humorless. “We really are stuck, aren’t we? We make quite a pair.”

I shook my head. “There’s nothing I could say to get you to take him to the doctor for me.”

“Nope,” he said flatly. “And I don’t suppose I could persuade you to—”

“Nope.”

At this, he laughed, too. “Well, there is one other option. But you’re not going to like it.”

Six (#ulink_ccba2f32-8a97-5b16-a9e9-5e71987f8162)

“All right,” I said. “Let’s hear it.”

“It’s ten feet to the hopper. It’ll take at least fifteen seconds to pop the hatch, then another thirty to seal it back.”

I gave him a blank look. “Dad. You can’t be seriously thinking of—”

“You hold his face, keep pressure on his eyes. Make sure his mouth and nose are shut.”

“Dad. No. No.”

“I’ll run ahead and get it ready. There’s still full gravity, and we should keep him in the fetal position as long as possible. As soon as it starts to open, I’ll be right back to help you move him.”

“You have actually lost your—”

He looked at me earnestly. “Even a dog can survive ninety seconds. A chimp can make it for two and a half minutes.”

“I do not want to think about how they figured that one out.”

“It’s certainly not safe, but like you said. The scientists on the EuroArk have been working around the clock on reproducing these drugs ever since Adam took over. They can probably help Eren. And I doubt he’s going to make it if we leave him here.”

“So put the skin on him. I’m not even slightly sick. My odds are way better.”

“That won’t work, Charlotte, even if I agreed to it. I can’t move three bodies by myself. And you will concede that Adam’s life is more important than any of ours. We can’t risk him.”

“For now, anyway.” I sat there, fully confronted with the truth: my father was right. It had to be Eren. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.”

“It’s his best shot.” He paused for a moment, then added, “You’re a good friend to him, Charlotte. I’m proud of you.”

“All right, all right.” I stood up and shimmied into my skin, yanking it nervously over my shoulders. The flat oxygen pack settled around the top of my head, under the dome of my helmet, and the neck sealed itself without a hitch. Beside me, Dad did the same, then started working on Adam.

I popped back to the first-aid kit and retrieved a spool of surgical tape. Then I wound it around Eren’s mouth about a dozen times, making sure he was still breathing through his nose. I plugged his ears with skinwax from the burn section of the kit and taped his eyelids shut, then wrapped them tightly as well. Halfway through, I realized that my hands were shaking.

“Ninety seconds, you say?”

Dad gave me a sympathetic look. “More, for a person.”

“A conscious one.” My tongue felt heavy. “Forty-five seconds for the hatch to open and close.”

“Plus a little time to get Adam on board. And however long it takes for life support to boot.”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

Dad looked at Eren, and I realized I was cradling his head and shoulders against my chest. “I don’t want him to die any more than you do, Charlotte,” he said, his voice slightly softer.

I pulled Eren closer. He was completely limp. “Yeah.”

“Did you see any rope?”

“Rope?”

“In the compartments.”

“Um. Yeah. Somewhere on that side.”

Moving quickly, Dad located the rope, produced a knife out of nowhere, and cut a long measure off. Then he wound it around Adam’s chest and over my shoulders. “You should take Adam,” he said, his voice strange. “We’ll move faster. I’ll hold Eren in position, with his knees up. He’s bigger. Less secure. It’ll take a lot more strength.”

I nodded, numb, and he secured Adam’s body onto my back, then wound his legs around my waist. “Hang on like this,” he said quietly. “It’ll distribute around your hips. Easier to manage.”

I wet my lips. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, lifting Eren against his chest. He rested a hand on the door to the hangar. “When this is open, the pressure differential will activate the airlock on the far side of the hangar. We think it’s wired so that the airlock’s activation will trigger an explosion, so move fast. Brace yourself. In five.”

Eren was curled against my father like a baby. His head was tucked against my father’s neck, his shins against my father’s forearm. I nodded.

“Four. Three. Two—”

There was a sick hiss as the distant airlock engaged its seal. I lumbered out onto the hangar catwalk, Adam on my back, following my father’s heavy-laden form. Behind us, the door began to close.

Seconds later, a gut-thumping POP followed by a deep, sudden rumble shook the hangar floor, and the walls around me reflected fire. At the hangar wall, mere feet from the dock, a bright orange flame came into view and quickly flattened into a deep, dark blue as the fire devoured the remaining oxygen trying to escape the hangar.

I stumbled, falling, and let go of Adam’s legs. The rope around us both went dangerously taut, driving my breath out of my chest. I hit the ground, and Adam’s weight thrust me down further, smashing my knees into the floor. The hopper was round and shiny, with a webbed net over half the hatch and long, black blades that looked like the feet of a particularly graceful insect.

It was also about a million miles away. I struggled to stand, but my legs were not nearly strong enough to lift us both after five years of puppethood, and I had to crawl the remaining distance.

When the ladder appeared in front of my face, I lifted my head in time to see my father force Eren through the hatch. I grabbed the highest rung I could reach and yanked myself up. Dad leaned down and pulled Adam up. He was still attached to me.

Surely an hour had passed since the seal had broken.