Swipe

and out into the setting sun. “Thank you.”
    8
    Logan was free, but he could not think of where to go. He could not go home. He could not go to Erin’s apartment. He could not go into town.
    Logan saw Spokie’s streets through the eyes of a wanted man.
    There was one place he could think of that would take him in. One place DOME wouldn’t immediately know to look. One place where he would be welcomed. With open arms. Celebrated, even, with any luck.
    The warehouse. Peck. The Dust.

    After an hour of running along side paths and shadows, Logan was relieved to be rounding the final section of woods toward the hideout, far outside of town and away from the countless authorities Logan was sure were after him, even if he hadn’t seen any since leaving the Center, even if that had seemed a little odd.
    And as Logan went, the warehouse steeple rose up higher, higher over the crest of the hill, and relief washed over him.
    But something about it was wrong.
    Smoke that didn’t belong.
    A glow that couldn’t be.
    “No,” Logan whispered. “No.”
    Logan’s sanctuary was burning.
    He ran faster now, until the full view of the warehouse loomed before him. Last night, something about it had struck Logan as so beautiful, so peaceful . . . as if from another world far greater and grander than his own.
    Looking at it now, the building was anything but peaceful. Logan watched its roof collapse in on itself, watched its bell tower lean precariously and fall. Windows burst and shattered in the heat. The whole facade buckled under the torment of the blaze.
    Logan made it to the bottom of the hill, where pages from books flamed and floated in the wind. Embers popped and wood crackled, and the heat from the fire was overwhelming, even at this distance.
    Logan sank to his knees. What now? he thought. Please. What do I do now?
    And as if on cue, from behind a fiery scaffold, a familiar face appeared. Erin. Her expression was blank and calm.
    Logan stood, and she stepped closer to him. He went to speak, but she shook her head. There were bright tears in her eyes that flickered in the fire’s light, and her lips quivered, but she made no noise.
    “Erin,” Logan said.
    She leaned in and hugged him, gently, sweetly. And he hugged her back. They closed their eyes, and the two of them stayed in that moment for as long as they could.
    Then Erin pulled away. “Peck and his Dust escaped. My dad is after them, with the rest of DOME. They will be caught.” She took another step back. “A second wave is on their way from the Umbrella. They know you’re here. They know everything.”
    “Do they know you helped me escape?”
    “No.”
    Logan shook his head. “Why did you bother? Why save my life just to leave it like this?” He swept his arms around the scene.
    “I helped you , Logan. But I won’t help your cause. Today you picked the wrong side of history.” Erin looked toward the hill.
    “You don’t have much time.”
    But Logan stood, paralyzed, staring into the wreckage. “You did this,” he said.
    Erin nodded.
    “You promised,” Logan said. “You made a promise .”
    “We both made promises, Logan.”
    “But my sister . . . ,” he said.
    “I know.” She pushed him weakly. “Go.”
    Logan stepped back, his eyes darting between Erin and the warehouse, its flames dancing against the sky, as if celebrating the glory of the stars. Two tears rolled down Erin’s face in a single line, one right after another. She made no motion to brush either of them away.
    “It didn’t have to end like this,” she said. “You made it this way. Remember that you made it this way.” She shook her head, swallowing hard. “You’re alone now, Logan. I can’t help you anymore.”
    Logan stood an arm’s length away. He didn’t speak. He didn’t reach out for her.
    Instead he turned, down the hill and into the woods that led to who-knew-where.
    And he ran. Faster and faster, away from the wreckage. Away from the betrayal. Away from Erin and his parents and his school and his home . . . away from everything he had ever known and everything he had ever come to expect.
    And still the flames lingered in his mind.
    I am on my own , he thought, pressing on, one foot ahead of the next, in the darkness and stillness of the soft, forest night. But I am not alone .
    I have my sister. I have Lily .
    And if it means tearing Beacon down brick by brick, I am going to save her .
    Because I am Dust .
    Because I am not afraid .

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