The Last Uprising (Defectors Trilogy) (34 page)

I nodded, thinking there was probably more.

“Plus I hate Aryus for everything he stole from me,” Amory whispered into my hair.

Of course.
Guilt stung the words on my tongue. With everything going on, sometimes it was easy to forget what Amory’s own father had put him through. “Your father?”

“No. The PMC didn’t make him the way he is,” he said bitterly. “Aryus stole you from me.”

I pulled back a little so I could look him in the eyes. “No. I’m here now. I’m yours.”

Amory’s look was so intense it knocked the air right out of me.
 

Without warning, he tugged me up until his warm lips found mine. I ran a hand through his hair and sighed against him. His hands trailed down my waist, pulling me closer.
 

He put everything he was feeling behind that kiss. He was angry and loving and scared. He pushed me back against the wall, and our bodies fit together until there wasn’t a hair’s breadth between us.
 

We clung to each other, both thinking our time together was limited.

Why did we take such stupid risks?
I wondered.
 

But I knew the answer. We took risks because none of us could stand doing nothing — not after everything we’d been through. We had to fight. I felt that urge deep in my bones, a toxic need that would fester inside me long after the last PMC officer had fallen.

I didn’t sleep at all that night. From the minimal snoring and the constant shifting of blankets across the factory floor, I knew most of the other rebels were lying awake, too.
 

It was different than any other night I had slept awaiting battle. This was the first time I genuinely felt as though we wouldn’t make it back.

When the first rays of sunlight peeked through the broken factory windows, I was already sitting up in the folds of my sleeping bag, watching Roman’s fitful tussle with his blankets.
 

He’d gotten worse. The fever no longer kept him incapacitated, but he now had that unhealthy pallor all the time. He’d lost weight, and he looked suddenly much smaller.

It was strange that I should feel protective of Roman, since he and I had never really been friends. We tolerated each other, but he didn’t like me.
 

Still, if we didn’t get the cure, he would be dead soon — one more member of my family gone from the world. I didn’t think I could take it, no matter how infuriating Roman could be.

Greyson stirred next. We sat without talking, him watching Logan and me watching Amory, and my heart went out to him. Greyson had followed me all over the country and had brought me back to my old self. Watching him sitting there, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and tousling his now-messy dark waves, I felt a surge of comfort and strength that reminded me of home.

Ida called a meeting over breakfast, which was just as well. None of us was very hungry. I picked at my oatmeal and chugged a mug of weak instant coffee as she ran through the plan once again.
 

I already knew our part. It was simple: Don’t get killed, get to the Infinity Building, blast our way in, kill Aryus, grab the cure, and get out.

When she finished, I watched the rebels milling around in their black combat gear, prowling at the edges of the room like caged panthers. Some of them owned Teflon vests, which made me jealous. Others were being a bit theatrical, spreading tar paint over their cheeks to read “XX” as they had on the night of the Sector X riots.

It seemed tactless now. Then, the rebels had been attacking a military base to free prisoners who were innocent, including Greyson. But now, we were about to stage a violent overthrow of a region where civilians lived. The weak and cowardly had fled to the communes, but so had families, the elderly, and the sick. If anything went wrong, innocent people could be killed.

I waited in line with the others to be issued weapons, trying to think about anything other than what we were about to do.
 

Logan was ahead of me in line, and when Switch tried to pass her a dainty little handgun, I thought she was going to take his head off. That made me laugh. I couldn’t believe there was a rebel alive who didn’t know what a sharpshooter Logan had been.
 

She didn’t stop until she had locked up five of the best rifles for each of us, and I was grateful when she handed me an FN SCAR. This was the weapon I was most comfortable with, and she knew it.

I caught her eye, wishing I could put my gratitude into words, but she understood. It wasn’t just the gun; Logan was always looking out for me.

“She shouldn’t be doing this,” Amory murmured over my shoulder.

He was right. How would Logan take out officers when she could barely shoot straight? She was still a deadly fighter in hand-to-hand combat, but that didn’t matter to the PMC. They would shoot her as soon as look at her.

 
We fell out, piling into the vehicles parked behind the factory. Amory, Roman, Greyson, Logan, and I had an old Xterra all to ourselves. Judging by the silence in the car, they were all as nervous as I was.

We took the route Ida had given us, staying off the main highway. The rebels would be hitting from three strategic points in the city, but we were to go another way. Ida wanted us to station ourselves by the base nearest the Infinity Building and lay low. When the base fell, we would know it was our best opportunity to find Aryus.

As we approached the heart of the city, it struck me how quiet and deserted the streets looked. The commune dwellers should have been on their way to work at the World Corp factories, fields, and labs, but I didn’t see the people in white.
 

Then I remembered Ida had persuaded several of the communes to riot. She must have chosen those communes specifically to get the civilians out of the way. That made me feel slightly better about storming into the city and staging an overthrow.

We passed under a rover, and I panicked as the light turned red. They knew we were here now. I imagined rovers all over the city setting off alarms and the PMC scrambling to discover why there were so many illegals fanning out across the city.
 

Did they think it was another carrier attack? Or had they been expecting a rebel invasion?

I sensed Logan’s and Greyson’s nervousness as we watched one rover after another blink red.

There were so many in the city center, and I realized they must record everything the commune dwellers did. I couldn’t imagine living under such intense scrutiny.

Amory parked the car in a garage facing the base and killed the engine. We would not be in disguise this time, hiding in PMC whites. That sent a defiant thrill through me, but it also made me nervous. This mission was not about stealth. We were taking a stand.

We got out, and I checked my gun out of habit. The extra ammunition weighed down my pockets, but it didn’t seem like enough. Amory got out, and I watched him stick a knife in his boot and clamp on his weapons holster. His gray eyes were cold and focused, his movements precise. He was all business, and I was struck — not for the first inappropriate time — by how incredibly sexy he was.

Not two minutes after we’d parked, sirens were blaring up the street, drawing closer. Amory grabbed me and pulled me behind the SUV, shielding me with his body. If I wasn’t so scared, I would have blushed at the way he was pressed against me.

Blue lights flashed in my vision, and several cruisers blazed past the garage. They knew what direction we had gone, but they hadn’t expected us to stop.
 

Nobody dared speak, but I knew everyone’s thoughts were the same:
When would the rebels attack?
 

My muscles tensed. My ears were piqued for a sound, my body poised to run and fight.
 

What were we waiting for? An explosion? Gunfire?
 

Then more sirens sounded, farther away this time, and I knew PMC units were responding to other reports of illegals. Then there were three gunshots in quick succession and a loud crash
.

Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm was going off. More gunshots ricocheted off buildings, no more than half a mile away.

Sirens were blaring again, approaching from the opposite direction this time. There was a volley of gunshots, and then glass shattered.

“It’s starting,” breathed Logan.
 

It didn’t feel right, standing here waiting for the rebels to take down the PMC bases. We should have been out there fighting.
 

No. We shouldn’t have been there at all.
 

Suddenly I felt very young. I wanted to go back to college and never think about fighting or killing again. I wanted to go to parties, go on runs with Greyson, and spend late mornings lounging in bed with Amory.
 

But Amory was part of
this
life. Without the fighting, I wouldn’t have him or Logan or Roman or Ida. I was completely different now.

I stared out at the street. PMC officers were flooding out of the base, some fanning out to defend it, others breaking off to subdue the nearby violence.

The rebels’ plan was working.
 

Logan was kneeling by the low concrete wall of the parking garage, her rifle propped up on the ledge. At first I thought she was just resting it there, but she was lining up her shot.

“Logan! No!” Amory hissed.

“Do you expect me to just sit here when I’ve got the perfect shot?” she snapped.

“Yes,” said Greyson, sliding down the wall beside her and pulling her rifle down. “We have to stay out of sight. We have a job to do.”

She looked irritated, but I could tell Greyson’s soft brown puppy eyes were more persuasive to her than Amory’s bark.

But I was getting antsy, too. From my vantage point, I could make out a battered rebel SUV speeding down the street toward the swarm of officers, an arm swinging out the window. Something flew through the air, landing in the crowd of officers. Before they could do anything, an explosion shook the entire street.

Momentarily blinded, I stumbled back as the wave of heat reached us. Amory’s arms fumbled for me as we both hit the hard concrete. Somebody screamed, and the acrid stench of burning plastic and hair reached my nostrils.

“Those crazy fuckers,” yelled Roman, his deep, booming voice echoing off the walls.

There were more gunshots, and a few streets over, another explosion rocked the parking deck.

The cacophony of gunfire, sirens, and screaming mixed together in a horrific pulse that shook my ribcage as I lay curled on the concrete under Amory’s arm.
 

Finally, we hoisted ourselves up and crawled over to Logan. She was coughing loudly, and I could tell she had inhaled a lot more smoke than I had.

“You okay?” I croaked.

She gave a shaky nod, and we all turned to look at the base.

Windows all along the first few stories were shattered. Bodies clad in PMC whites lay sprawled everywhere, covered in bits of brick and rubble. A few officers were staggering to their feet and dragging themselves from the wreckage, but another rebel truck was approaching from the opposite direction. There was a volley of shots, and the remaining officers fell.
 

“Do you think that’s all of them?” Greyson wondered aloud.

“No,” said Amory. “But I think it’s as good as we’re going to get.”

“Let’s get this shit over with,” said Roman, strapping on his holster impatiently.

Once Logan had recovered from her coughing fit, we vaulted the low wall and sprinted across the deserted street. My legs were moving without consulting my brain, and I didn’t even feel the burning in my lungs as we flew full force toward the Infinity Building.

It was only a block away — an imposing titanium formation that consumed the skyline.

We ducked behind a parked cruiser, and Amory checked that no officers were headed toward us.
 

“Go!” he breathed, and we all took off toward the building at a sprint.

I hefted my rifle in my hands, preparing to shoot, my legs and arms working of their own accord.

Logan was in full sniper mode now. Her hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail, and her beautiful face was set in stone.

The last time we entered the building, we had come up from the parking garage in an elevator. But since the visitors’ entrance would be on lockdown, we were planning to storm the front steps. Four heavily armed officers were standing outside the door, which didn’t seem like very much security to me.

Roman threw out an arm, and my chest slammed into his rock-hard triceps. With the wind knocked out of me, I didn’t fight as Amory pulled me behind another parked car.

He pointed up, and I followed his gaze to a building across the street. From one open window, I could just discern the tiniest flash of white. A sniper was perched there.

“They probably have more. We need to move fast.”

“We can’t just rush them all at once,” said Greyson. “That would be exactly the scenario they’ve planned for.”

“So what, then?”

“We take them from two sides,” offered Logan, following Greyson’s train of thought with ease.

Amory nodded. “Roman and I will approach them head-on. You three take them from the sides.”

“You have to let us go in first,” I said. “We’ll have the element of surprise. It will be less dangerous if you let us take out as many as we can before you move in.”

He nodded, clearly distressed that I had circumvented his efforts to keep us out of danger.

We dashed out from behind the parked car, skirting around a building that was out of the sniper’s line of sight.
 

Please don’t let there be any PMC,
I thought.
 

If we had to open fire this close to the building, the guards would hear, and we would lose our advantage. More would come rushing in to fortify the building, and we’d have a much harder time shooting our way in.

The street was eerily quiet as we moved down the rows of buildings. Suddenly I wondered if they were empty or if they were businesses run by displaced Canadians living under World Corp’s regime.