The Dark and Hollow Places - Carrie Ryan [113]
I try to hold his gaze but I can’t and end up looking over his shoulder at the dark clouds on the horizon pulling close to the City. I can hear the sound of ice freezing along the ground, the small quiet groans of the water forcing itself into cracks and expanding. Tearing our world apart degree by degree.
“I should just smuggle Mudo onto the island and infect all the Recruiters. It wouldn’t be hard for me to take care of them right after they turn.”
I shake my head. It would be a brutal and cruel way to kill them all and I’m not sure it’s what they deserve. “The Recruiters would probably kill you and the rest of us if anything went wrong—if they caught you trying to smuggle Unconsecrated onto the Sanctuary. It’d be a risk.” I stare at my hands for a moment. “Besides, that makes us as bad as they are. We can’t kill them like that.”
“But they don’t deserve to live,” Catcher says in frustration. “Didn’t you hear what Ox said?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. In my mind I see Catcher’s blade slicing through Conall’s neck, hear his last breath, the gurgling of blood in his lungs.
“What you did …” I hesitate, trying to figure out what I’m feeling and how to put it into words. “Conall was a monster,” I say. Catcher’s back stiffens.
“I’m not saying your killing him was wrong, I just …” I take a deep breath and lean my hips against the low wall circling the roof. “I don’t think we can be so indifferent to life,” I finally finish. “I’m not sure we should be the ones judging.”
Catcher opens his mouth to defend himself, his jaw tightening, and I rest my hand over his to cut him off. I press my lips together, knowing I have to say this but afraid of how he’ll respond. I push forward anyway.
“You terrified me back there, Catcher. You’ve talked before about how you feel caught in between the living and the dead because of being immune, but you’re going to have to choose which side you want to be on. It’s the Unconsecrated who take life indiscriminately. It’s the living who strive to preserve it—even for the worst among us.”
He lets his chin drop to his chest, his hand snaking to the back of his neck and pulling at the taut muscles lining his shoulders. “He was about to kill you, Annah. I couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t have stopped coming after you.”
I tug on his arm until he lets go and I can press his fingers against my chest, over the thumping of my heart. “I’m still alive,” I remind him. “You’re not an evil person, Catcher. But that doesn’t make it okay to kill the rest of the Recruiters. Maybe it’s not fair—but we have to be better than they are. We can’t sink to the worst of them.”
I lay my other hand on his face, tilting it back until the light of the night splays across his cheekbones, his eyes. “Killing them would make us monsters. What’s the point of working so hard to get off this island if we’re going to turn into monsters anyway?”
Catcher pulls me to him and together we stand there staring up at the sky, the heat of him keeping me warm against the winter chill.
“We have a little time to figure something else out,” I tell him. “I’ve already made progress quilting together material for the balloon. You just need to make sure the people left in the Dark City will have what they need and be ready on time as well.” I turn and face him.
“We can make this work. I know we can.” I wonder whether if I say it often enough, with enough force, I can make it true.
He pulls my head to his chest and I listen to the beat of his heart. “Do I still scare you?” he asks and I can sense the fear and uncertainty in his voice.
“Always,” I tell him. He catches his breath and I lean away until I can see his eyes. “I’m scared of losing my heart to you. But I think it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
I’m kneeling on the floor, sifting through the scraps of quilts my sister’s already sewn together, when she shuffles into the room. Her hair’s greasy, hanging around her face limply, but her eyes are no longer