Specials

At top speed, the chase soon reached the factory belt. They all climbed to avoid the automated delivery trucks rumbling through the darkness, orange underlights reading the road markings to find their destinations. The other three Cutters spread out behind her, cutting off any chance of the Smokies doubling back.

With a glance upward at the stars and a lightning calculation, Tally saw that the two were still headed away from the river, zooming toward certain capture at the city's edge.

"This is kind of weird, Boss," she said. "Why isn't he heading for the river?"

"Maybe he got lost. He's just a random, Tally-wa. Not the brave boy you remember."

Tally heard soft laughter over the network, and her cheeks burned. Why did they keep acting like David still meant something to her? He was just some ugly random. And, anyway, it did show some bravery, sneaking into the city like this…even if it was pretty stupid.

"Maybe they're heading for the Trails," Fausto said.

The Trails were a big preserve on the other side of Crumblyville, the sort of place middle pretties went hiking to pretend they were out in nature. It looked wild, but you could still get picked up by a hovercar when you got tired.

Maybe they thought they could disappear on foot. Didn't David realize that Cutters could fly past the edge of the city? That they could see in the dark?

"Should I move in?" Tally asked. Here in the factory belt, she could yank David off his board without killing him.

"Relax, Tally," Shay said flatly. "That's an order. The grid ends, no matter which way they go from here."

Tally clenched her fists, but didn't argue.

Shay had been special longer than any of them. Her mind was so icy that she'd practically made herself into a Special—brain-wise, anyway—breaking out of bubbleheadness with nothing but a sharp knife against her own skin. And Shay was the one who'd made the deal with Dr. Cable, the arrangement that allowed the Cutters to destroy the New Smoke any way they wanted.

So Shay was the Boss, and obeying wasn't really that bad. It was icier than thinking, which could get you all tangled up.

The neat estates of Crumblyville appeared below. Bare gardens flashed past, waiting for late pretties to plant spring flowers. David and his accomplice dropped to just above ground level, staying low to give their lifters every bit of purchase on the grid.

Tally saw their fingers brush as they hopped a low fence, and wondered if the two of them were together. Probably David had found some new Smokey girl's life to wreck.

That was his thing: going around recruiting uglies to run away, seducing the best and the smartest city kids with the promise of rebellion. And he always had his favorites. First Shay, then Tally…

Tally shook her head to clear it, reminding herself that the social life of Smokies was of no interest to a Special.

Leaning forward, she coaxed her board faster. The black expanse of the Trails was just ahead. This chase was almost over.

The two plunged into the darkness, disappearing into dense trees. Tally climbed to skim the forest canopy, watching for signs of their passage in the sharp light of the moon. In the distance beyond the Trails, the true wilds lay, the utter blackness of Outside.

A shiver played across the treetops, the Smokies' two hoverboards streaking like a gust of wind through the forest….

"They're still headed straight out," she said.

"We're right behind you, Tally-wa," Shay answered. "Care to join us down here?"

"Sure, Boss." Tally covered her face with both hands as she dropped, a spray of needles traveling from foot to head, the caress of pine branches shooting along her body. Then she was among the tree trunks, zipping through the forest, knees bent, eyes wide open.

The other three Cutters had caught up with her, arrayed a hundred meters apart, cruel-pretty faces fiendish in the flickering moonlight.

Ahead, at the border between the Trails and the true wilderness, the two Smokies were already descending, their boards' magnetic lifters ru

"Game over," Shay said.

The lifting fans of Tally's hoverboard kicked in beneath her, a low thrum drifting through the trees like the growl of some hibernating beast. The Cutters slowed, dropping to a few meters' altitude, sca

A shiver of pleasure ran down Tally's spine. The chase had become a game of hide-and-seek.

But not exactly a fair game. She made a finger gesture, and the chips in her hands and brain responded, laying an infrared cha

But in the now-purple darkness ahead of her, nothing of human size appeared.

Tally frowned, flicking back and forth between infrared and normal vision. "Where'd they go?"

"They must have sneak suits," Fausto whispered. "Otherwise we could see them."

"Or smell them, at least," Shay said. "Maybe your boyfriend's not so random after all, Tally-wa."

"What do we do?" Tachs said.

"We get off and use our ears."

Tally let her hoverboard drop to the ground, the lifting blades splintering twigs and dry leaves as they spun to a halt. She stepped from the riding surface as it stilled, and the late winter cold leeched up through her grippy shoes.

She wriggled her toes and listened to the forest, watching her breath curl out in front of her face, waiting for the whine of the other boards to peter out. As the silence deepened, her ears caught a soft sound pattering all around her—the wind rattling pine needles in their tiny sheaths of ice. A few birds disturbed the air, and hungry squirrels who'd woken up from a long winter's sleep scrabbled for buried nuts. The breathing of the other Cutters came through on the skinte

But nothing that sounded like a human moved on the forest floor.

Tally smiled. At least David was making this interesting, standing perfectly still like this. But even with sneak suits hiding their body heat, the Smokies couldn't remain motionless forever.

Besides, she could feel him out there. He was close.

Tally silenced her skinte

There was something in the air … a hum at the edge of hearing, more an itch in her ears than a real noise. It was one of those ghostly presences she could hear now, like the buzz of her own nervous system or the sizzle of fluorescent lights. So many sounds that were inaudible to uglies and bubbleheads reached a Special's ears, as strange and unexpected as the whorls and ridges of human skin under a microscope.

But what exactly was it? The sound ebbed and flowed with the breeze, like the notes that sang out from the high tension lines stretching from the city's solar arrays. Maybe it was some kind of trap, a wire strung between two trees. Or was it a razor-sharp knife angled so that it caught the wind?