Page 60 of To Cage a Wild Bird (Divided Fates #1)

“Wrench.”

“Ugh. Which one? There are like a million of them in here.” Yara dug through the portable toolbox Vale had procured for us.

“I need the three-eighth,” Kit called, her voice muffled. She stood on a ladder, her head not visible from where it was inside

the ventilation shaft.

Yara’s brow furrowed. “I’m going to need you to repeat that as if I have no idea what you’re talking about. Which I don’t,

in case you were wondering.”

A snort from Kit. “Your talents lie elsewhere, darling. Raven?”

I grinned. “Let me have a look.”

Yara shrugged and slid the toolbox across the mechanical room’s checkered tile floor, and I dug through the pile of tools

until I found the three-eighth wrench. I stood, crossing the room and pressing the tool into Kit’s outstretched hand.

The sound of metal clanging against metal flowed from the ventilation shaft, and I shifted my weight, eyeing the locked door

and waiting to see if someone would attempt to force their way through.

It was the day of our escape.

Kit had insisted it was too dangerous to install the diffuser any earlier in case another guard happened across it before

we could leave.

That morning, Vale had made a show in front of the other inmates from the workshop, asking us to follow him for a maintenance

project and then leaving us alone in the mechanical room.

It was a large space, but it was stuffed to the brim with equipment, making it feel cramped. Numerous pipes and electrical wires lined the ceiling and crisscrossed the room while industrial-sized boilers and backup generators sat against the walls.

“Since when do bounty hunters know anything about tools?” Yara asked, slipping a bottle of baby-blue nail polish from the

pocket of her uniform and unscrewing the cap.

The chemical smell of the polish swirled through the room, and I wrinkled my nose.

“My father was a handyman for the landlord that owned the apartment buildings in our neighborhood,” I explained. “He serviced

hundreds of apartments. I’d go with him on jobs when I wasn’t in school. Picked up some stuff, I guess.”

I’d loved working with him. I’d done the same as I was doing for Kit now by carrying around his toolbox and selecting the

tools he needed. Sometimes, if our mother was working late at the factory, Jed would come with us, too, and I’d be in charge

of keeping an eye on him. I’d loved that our parents trusted me to look after him.

“What about you?” I asked, shaking myself from the memory. “You must have learned some useful skills as an agriculturalist.”

“I was mostly in the lab,” Yara said, finishing her first hand and examining the perfectly painted nails before moving on

to the next. “Working with soil samples and testing compounds to make it more fertile. But then, when my father died...

well. I told you about the artificial food shortages. I don’t know if everything I did in the lab was completely useless—if

they were giving us contaminated soil samples the whole time so we’d believe their lies.”

I blanched. It’d been beyond horrifying to learn that the Council and Endlock Enterprises were willing to starve Lower Sector

citizens to drive up crime rates, but I hadn’t thought about what keeping up the appearances of that lie meant. They’d had

to sell an illusion.

“Even if they lied, it doesn’t mean that the things you were doing weren’t useful,” I told Yara. “Think about the Wastes—they’re

almost completely barren. But maybe one day they won’t be, thanks to people like you working to restore the soil.”

She shrugged as if it weren’t a big deal, but I saw the corners of her lips tilt up ever so slightly before she ducked her head.

“Diffuser,” Kit called.

Yara held up her hands, waving her wet nails at me. “Do you mind?”

We sat at our usual table at dinner, our trays laden with biscuits and stew.

I looked over to my right, where Momo was sitting, leaving a gap between us.

Gus’s spot.

Momo stared at the empty space on the bench, blinking rapidly. I reached over, grasping his hand in mine and giving it a quick

squeeze.

I swallowed the lump that had taken up residence in my throat. “You know, one of the last things Gus said to me was how important

it was for you to get out of here,” I whispered. “He loved you. So much. He was so excited for you to live the rest of your

life away from Endlock and Dividium.”

Momo looked up at me with his big brown eyes. “He made me promise him every day that if something happened to him, I wouldn’t

give up. And I won’t. I’ll make it to the North Settlement, but—”

A few tears leaked from his eyes, and he turned, pulling his hand free of mine and swiping roughly at the tears.

“But what?” I asked gently. I didn’t reach over to touch him—holding his hand had been risky enough with all the guards around,

and I couldn’t draw attention to our table.

“But I won’t forget what Elder did to him,” Momo said, his words surprisingly steady with the wetness still glistening on

his cheeks.

“Neither will I,” Jed added from where he sat on Momo’s other side. I watched as he scooted closer to the boy, and my heart

clenched in my chest.

Yara and I both nodded in agreement.

“We won’t forget or forgive,” Kit promised. “And if I have anything to say about it, the Collective will be helping us take

her down.”

I gasped. “A direct hit on a councilor?” The Collective engaged in a number of illicit activities and missions, but as far as I knew, they’d never waged a direct attack on the Council.

Yet—because of course it meant something that they were trying to learn as much as possible about Endlock’s security.

Kit shrugged. “They need me, don’t they? They’ve risked plenty to get me out of here, which leads me to believe they’d do

plenty more to make sure I’m on their side. I never said my help wasn’t conditional.”

Yara sighed, resting her chin on her hand and staring dreamily at Kit. “You might be the most badass woman I’ve ever had the

pleasure of laying my eyes on.”

“I’d have to agree,” Jed said, and out of the corner of my eye, I watched as he slipped his uneaten biscuit onto Momo’s tray.

“But you all better start eating. This is our last good meal.”

“Oh, my dear, sweet Jed.” Yara clucked, shaking her head as she swirled her spoon through the cloudy stew. “If this is your

idea of a good meal, I’d hate to hear what you think is bad.”

My gaze flew to Jed’s and we both blurted, “Rat.”

“Come on, that’s not so bad,” Momo joined in, smiling. “My mom used to bake it into a meat pie that even Yara would’ve liked.”

Yara watched us, grimacing. “I’d never disrespect your mother, but if you ever bring a rat pie close to me, I will not hold

back in defending myself.”

Kit cleared her throat, rolling her lips together to hide a grin. “Darling, you have to realize that Pharil Coates isn’t wasting

his precious credits feeding us beef. What do you think we’ve been eating in here all this time?”

Yara’s mouth formed a perfect O, and I had to slap a hand over my own mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

“No,” Yara whispered, horrified. “Why didn’t you tell me before, Kit? You’ve betrayed me.” She shoved her tray in Jed’s direction,

and he gladly slipped her stew onto his tray, pouring half of the food into Momo’s bowl before he dug in.

“Let’s see. Because I love you, and I knew that given the choice between eating rat and starving, you’d choose death.”

Yara huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “You know me too well.”

After what felt like an eternity, we finished our meals and returned to our cells, settling in early to get some rest before

the timer went off and the diffuser began pumping ironroot through the vents.

I found myself tossing and turning. Given the circumstances, I should’ve known that sleep would elude me. A few cells down,

I heard Yara stirring on her cot. I stared at the ceiling, going over the plan in my mind until the guards turned out the

lights.

It was time.

I rose from my cot, careful not to disturb anyone, and reached under my bed for the satchel that Vale had told me would be

hidden there. I unzipped it and pulled my respirator free, placing it over my nose and mouth where it seemed to suction against

my skin, leaving no space for unfiltered air to sneak through.

I began to pack my remaining possessions into the bag as quietly as possible.

First was a set of thermal leggings and a long-sleeved shirt that Yara had handed me at the last minute. There would be frigid

nights on our journey, with body heat and the threadbare blankets stowed in the tunnels as our only armor against the cold.

A hat, gloves, and a half-decent jacket followed, then socks and undergarments. Most of it had been gifted by Yara or stolen

from the guards’ quarters by Vale.

Everything else we needed or could scrape together was already stashed in the tunnels. All we had to do was get ourselves

there.

I zipped up the pack, slung it over my shoulders, and sat back down on my cot, waiting.

It was several hours before I heard the barrier door open amid the snores of the other inmates.

Vale hadn’t been able to cut the power entirely—that would have triggered alarms at the security office in Dividium.

But he’d worked with Kit to place Endlock into the low-energy mode that was typically used on days when blackouts wreaked havoc on the energy grid in Dividium, and the city had to pull from Endlock’s reserves.

The lights were all dimmed to the barest glow, none of the cameras were recording, and Vale could override the electric locks

and unlock our cells with a manual key. Without the usual systems running at full capacity, it would be difficult for the

guards to get organized and come after us if someone woke up early.

I heard the metallic sound of a key turning as Vale unlocked the cells before mine—Jed’s, Kit’s, and Momo’s. Their footsteps

padded softly across the concrete floor. Then there was a quiet click, and my cell door rolled open.