Page 72 of Shades of Earth (Across the Universe 3)

What if she found them? What if that’s why she was killed?

But they couldn’t have told the aliens much about the drug that controlled Lorin.

Kit could, though. She knew exactly what happened when someone put on a pale green med patch.

I might be on a whole new planet, but I still can’t escape Phydus.

35: AMY

I’m exhausted by the time I leave the lab with Mom. And we’re no closer to figuring out what killed Kit—or, rather, who killed Kit.

The only thing we’re clear on is that something—someone—is targeting us.

It was bad enough when we feared the planet. But the planet is an amorphous thing. Fearing it is like fearing nature. It did not want to kill us, it just did, much like a wild animal at hunt.

But to know that there’s something specific, sentient, and malicious that’s murdering us? Elder’s theory about aliens is sounding more and more accurate.

It makes me very glad to have Chris as my personal guard now.

I don’t think I’m hungry, but when we get back to the building, I find that I’m starving. I finish my ration of food much too quickly—probably for the best, given its bland taste and too-chewy texture. Even so, I’d like to ask for more, but I resist the impulse. We need to make this food last. We have yet to find anything edible on the planet, and it’s too soon to tell if our crops will grow.

When I finally slink into my room, I’m ready to pass out. I pull my sleeping bag out from the corner where I shoved it when Emma came to see me this morning, prepared to collapse, when I feel a hard object inside the bag.

The glass cube Emma gave me.

It’s glowing.

I’m so surprised I drop the bag and the cube along with it. It clatters onto the ground, and my heart stops; I’m sure the thing is about to shatter. But it doesn’t. It thuds heavily against the stone floor without even a crack.

Just like the glass from the weapon that killed Kit. It wouldn’t break either.

“Amy?” my father calls. “What was that?”

“Just dropped my . . . ” My mind searches for an answer. “Flashlight,” I finish lamely. That thud was way louder than a flashlight, but Dad buys it.

I pick up the glass cube again, staring into it. The glittery gold swirls glow brightly, casting light all around. It’s as bright as a fluorescent bulb but still cool to the touch.

“Don’t waste batteries,” Dad calls from behind the tent walls he’s erected to create a bedroom for himself and Mom.

I drop the cube back into my sleeping bag. The room is engul

fed in darkness again.

“Good night, sweetheart,” Mom calls sleepily.

“Night,” I mutter, staring at the sleeping bag and the faint square glowing through the nylon.

My first instinct is to track Emma down. But I’m not sure which building she’s in, and I don’t want to call attention to the cube. She made it seem like this was a big secret, a clue to this world.

I remember the glass shards we found in the wound on Kit’s chest. If this glass cube can light up my room, there has to be some sort of energy in it. If it exploded . . .

I stare at the floor where I dropped the cube, horrified. If it had broken, would my legs have been blown off the same way Kit’s chest was blown open?

I have to tell Elder.

Before I sneak out, I make sure the . 38 strapped to my waist is loaded and ready. Then I twist my sleeping bag as if it were a sack and drop it outside, grateful that the lining muffles the sound. I put both hands on the windowsill to raise myself up. My knees skim across the square depression in the stone, making me almost curse in pain.

I slink through the shadows. Elder and I have been butting heads recently, pulled in different directions by our own worries and the people closest to us. But my first instinct is to turn to him. When it comes down to it, he’s the one I trust. It’s barely nightfall now, but no one wants to risk going out after curfew, not after Kit’s death. Chris patrols the lower level of buildings, and I’m so preoccupied that I nearly step right in front of him. I barely have time to duck behind the corner of a building, holding my breath. He doesn’t have a flashlight, but he walks with assurance down the path. I count to ten before slipping back around the corner and up the stairs to Elder’s building.