The Dark Days - Chapter Seven

There's only one option available to me.
I know it's a risky one, but I can't let Holly die. She's been my lifelong friend. I tug the knife out of my pocket, and, knowing that this has to be an accurate shot, wind back my arm and throw the knife.
Like always, it's dead accurate. It pierces the rope, sticking in the walls of the Justice Building behind it. Immediately, the Peacekeepers are on me.
I can only hope that Holly heard us talking yesterday, about the Underground. She's fast, like me, and she must have the sense to run immediately, disguise herself, and come to the mayor's house.
I turn, grab Amy's hand, and pull her towards Chime and Maybelle. I have no knife, but then there's a tug at my shoulder and I turn to see Sage. His eyes are now flicking more dangerously than ever. He hands me a knife.
"Thank you," I whisper. "Come."
"My siblings," he says. I hesitate for a minute. Mint and Pine can't survive on their own, that's for sure. Well, they'd better come along.
"Get them," I say hurriedly. "We'll meet again at the Garden."
He frowns. It's a risky plan. The Garden is literally right next to the mayor's house, the only beautiful place in District Eleven. It's a maze of tiny flowers, where butterflies and songbirds actually come and make the place feel like home.
"At the Willow?" he asks. The Willow is the tallest of the trees that grow in the Garden. Its branches and leaves tower so much and are so dense no one will be noticed if they climb up.
"Got it," I say. "Sage..."
"What?" he asks.
"Get Holly out of there. And... if you pass any likely recruits, bring them to the Willow too. But go separately; big groups will surely attract Peacekeepers."
I notice the wall of pristine silver uniforms heading towards me, trying to push through the crowd. They're screaming. We can incite a rebellion right now, but one look from Maybelle tells me it's not enough. Peacekeepers have shot warning shots with their gun, and any moment those bullets may land on the citizens. We need more weapons and a plan, an organized one, to do this.
"Go, now," says Sage. As if I needed to me reminded. Sprinting through the crowds, which seems to be making way for me, I dash as fast as I can. Behind me, I can hear the Peacekeepers coming after me. I've literally ditched my friends, but they might be killed if they follow. Chime and Maybelle aren't as fast as Amy and I.
Now don't you wish you've told them your mastermind plan? I think to myself, hating my stupidity, my cockiness. I'm going to die, and no one knows about it! We'll be stuck like this forever!
Still cursing myself, I dash around a corner and into a dark alleyway. The Peacekeepers weren't looking for me this morning, but now they are.
Ahead of me, I see a batch of crates as tall as the buildings and don't hesitate before vaulting myself on. Years of jumping trees has taught me how to do that. I somersault neatly onto the top crate and lift myself onto the roof. I can see a chimney and dive inside without further thoughts.
Tumbling through the brick chimney, I claw at the walls, looking for anything to grab onto, anything. Seams in the brick walls pass by, but I can't hold on to them. After what seems like forever, my feet hit the ground.
It sends blinding pain up my right ankle. You'd think after jumping trees, and yes, falling from trees, for years has taught me how to land properly, but there's not a lot of space to manueuver my arms and it's dark. My feet had hit the ground too hard and most likely on the wrong angle. I stagger around, trying to find my way out of the blasted chimney, hobbling around on one foot. My fingernails aren't too pretty either; they're caked in blood from my desperate scrabble. My back aches because it had smashed into the wall of the chimney as I landed, and there's a headache pulsing in my head. When I finally locate myself and shove out of the chimney, I can see that I'll be black and blue for a few days.
The only other thing apart from the bruises and my ankle is the long scrape mark up my left arm, which is slowly turning red. I need to get to Chime, and fast. She's the medical one here. Now I'm so glad that we decided to include her in our tiny rebellion. Who else can heal us if we get hurt?
Outside, I can hear the Peacekeepers yelling, asking which way I went. I decide to stay put... for now.
I now wonder why they weren't shooting. Maybe they wanted me alive so I can die a torturous death. Well, no can do. I'm not backing down, and even if they do torture me I'm not letting a single squeak past my lips. No, it's not time for cowering and tears. It's time for bravery, time to stand up strong.
I bear my surroundings. I'm in a rusty living room, where there's a torn cough in front of me. Beside me is the dining room, I guess. A crooked little table with crooked little chairs. The room has a sense of finality inside it from the bare walls, the dust on the tables. Not a single drawing or photo is on the walls, which means this belonged to a poor family. Taking photos cost money. Lots of it. Maybe people might've lived here, but the thick layer of dust tells me that no one has lived here for ages.
And then I notice a sheet of paper, the only thing so out of place in this dark room. Of course, it's covered in dust, too, but I brush it off with my sleeve and turn it over.
The paper's yellow and withered, I can see that. It's also crackled, which means it's gotten wet once. But I'm not caring for those little details. What I'm caring for is what's written on the paper.
Welcome to the Rosalina house.
Rosalina. My father's surname, before he got killed. I look around again, at the tables, the chairs, the places my father would've sat, worked, talked, laughed, cried. I bury my head in my hands, facing the impossible.
This was my father's house.