Legacies Reborn by Pittacus Lore Page A

would like a word.”
    I glance at John, who nods at me. I guess Walker is a friend.
    â€œHey, where are we going?” I ask.
    â€œThe Brooklyn evacuation zone,” the soldier says before turning around and heading back into the tunnel.
    I guess things are finally looking up.
    I don’t know how to explain my duffel bag to these dudes, so as much as it pains me to do so, I leave it.
    Somewhere between Spring and Canal , I repeat in my head. I’ll be back for you. Mom and I both will.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    IN FRONT OF THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE I SEE TANKS in person for the first time. They’re bigger in real life, with their guns pointed into the city, like they’re going to fire on Manhattan.
    â€œWhoa,” I whisper as we walk by.
    I follow John and Sam, who follow some soldiers. They treat John like he’s hot shit, calling him “sir” and stuff. I can’t help but smirk every time they do. Don’t these fools realize John Smith is only sixteen? I get that he’s, like, the guy everyone knows about thanks to him fighting at the UN, but he should be going to prom or something, not getting treated like he’s the president.
    I guess it could mean I’m not the only one who feels a connection to John. Maybe these soldiers feel it too, and that’s why they treat him with so much respect. Or it could be that getting people to follow you comes withhaving Legacies. I’m still trying to catch on to how all this works.
    Heading away from the city, it’s almost like nothing bad ever happened. Brooklyn looks untouched in front of us. If it weren’t for all the people in uniform and the lack of tourists hanging out on the bridge, I could imagine that I was just out on a nice walk with Mom, clearing my head. Once we got to the Brooklyn side we’d have a slice of pizza and sit in the park and just look out at the water for a while. Quiet but together.
    It’s a nice image, but when I turn to look back at Manhattan, the whole dream falls apart. Plumes of smoke rise from all over the city, including downtown. The skyline looks different than it was the last time I was on the bridge months ago.
    I swallow down the lump that’s suddenly formed in my throat, hurrying to catch up with the others.
    On the other side of the bridge, the park’s been turned into some kind of combo hospital and military base for the National Guard and whoever else has shown up from the Pentagon or wherever all the military higher-ups hang out. There are people everywhere, in various states of injury and unrest. A few Red Cross stations have been set up, handing out supplies and bottles of water. Most everyone’s got dust and blood on them. Looking down, I realize I’m no different. Buses seem to be carting people off to somewhere else. Somewheresafer, I’d guess, farther away from the city.
    There are a few tables set up where people look like they’re signing in. My heart flutters.
    I turn to one of the soldiers.
    â€œThey have a list or something I could check? I’m . . . looking for someone.”
    â€œSure,” he says. “You could ask.”
    He’s not very helpful. I’m about to point that out when I realize John’s staring at me.
    â€œI’m gonna—,” I start.
    â€œGo,” John says. “I hope you find her.”
    I force a smile. I realize I don’t know when I’ll see him or Sam again. “Um, about that whole saving the world thing . . .”
    â€œWhen you’re ready, come find me.”
    â€œYou’re assuming I’ll ever be ready,” I snort.
    â€œYeah,” he says, eyes looking all serious. “I am.”
    I nod, raise my chin up at Sam and then run towards one of the sign-in stations. There’s a line dozens of people long, and it takes everything in me not to bat them all out of the way with my thoughts and jump straight to the front.
    â€œThis where people are checking