Abandon (30 page)

I left the Rise and headed west on my hoverboard. I was
going to make new transmissions, transmissions that would teach the people in Freedom to govern themselves.

I’d just entered the outer Blocks in Freedom when I heard the buzz of approaching hover tech behind me.

I almost didn’t turn to look. I didn’t care. Let them have Freedom.

I glanced over my shoulder. A trio was coming in off the ocean. I recognized Trek Whiting immediately.

He shifted to the side, and there was Starr Messenger. My stomach twisted, but one thought kept me from heaving:
At least it isn’t Jag
.

49
.
That night, after everyone fell asleep, I slipped away from the group. Even with Vi curled in my arms, I couldn’t settle my nerves. I kept hearing falling dirt, burying me farther and farther underground.

I returned to the rock where Vi and I had sat earlier that evening. The gentle lapping of water against sand sang to me, and I watched the waves in an attempt to purge my mind of more troubling thoughts.

I felt Gunner approaching before I saw him. Exhaustion poured from him, with a little bit of shame.

“Hey,” I said as he sat next to me. “Good to see you awake.”

He grunted in response, and I knew that I’d be doing most of the talking. Another side effect non-Voices don’t understand: Once you do something truly horrific with your voice power, you want to stop speaking. Maybe then you won’t say something you’ll regret.

“You did what you needed to do,” I said. “You enabled the Resistance to wipe out Freedom.”

He scoffed, and I heard what he meant.
I killed a whole lotta people. Including Raine’s father.

“You didn’t kill him,” I said. “And she knows that.”

Gunner wouldn’t look at me. “I’m not going to lie to you,” I said. “It’s hard. Remember that day you tased Thane? That was hard too. Holding someone’s life in the grip of your voice never gets easier.” I paused, remembering some of the more negative ways I’d used my voice.

“The fact is, you have a voice that people will obey. You need to use it for the right things. I believe using your voice to escape and help the Resistance was the right thing to do. Our lives should be our own, and I’m using my voice to accomplish that goal.” I touched his arm. “So are you.”

He finally faced me, and his eyes looked shiny, almost as if he was crying. “Thanks,” he said.

“Yeah,” I said. “Dealing with the voice sucks sometimes. I know how it is.”

“You ever kill someone?” he asked, his words quiet and strong—the way he’s always spoken. That’s Gunn. He’s got some real resolve.

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah.”

*   *   *

Rancho Port perches right on the ocean. The wind blows constantly, and it’s hot as hell most of the year. Even now, in early April, as I led our small band of Insiders to the swampy areas on the eastern border, the heat oppressed me.

Dread settled in my stomach. As if Vi sensed it, she nudged her hoverboard closer to mine. I didn’t look at her. I wouldn’t like what I found reflected in her eyes. My fear. Her reassurance.

Sometimes I really hated that my girlfriend could see inside my head.

Vi moved away, leaving behind a wake of her wounded pride. I let her go, needing to be alone. I flew over miles of swampland, breathing shallowly at the stench of warm earth, stagnant water, and dead fish. I found myself flying slower and slower. Everyone had pulled ahead of me by the time the first buildings came into view.

I drifted closer to the open water. I imagined the path I’d used to escape just several short weeks ago. That tree, had I paused behind it? That stretch of beach, had I run as hard as
I could, my feet sinking into the wet sand even as the next wave obliterated my footsteps?

And that stretch of open swamp, was that where the taser fire had hit me in the back? Where the silencers were applied? Where Thane stood over me, his eyes broadcasting hatred and his voice dripping with disdain?

Now Thane rode in the front of the pack—where I used to ride.

He spoke to Vi with a genuine smile on his face—like I used to do.

Before he saved me from the burning building in Castledale, I would’ve felt anger and hatred and distrust. Now I only felt sadness that could not be explained.

Sure, I’d cried many times. But that was usually from pure helplessness. Never sadness. I hadn’t felt sad since my parents died. I’d closed off that part of myself, determined not to let myself get hurt.

I watched Vi’s shoulders tense. Her sadness matched my own. She wanted me to let her in.

Could I do it? I’d established a boundary in all my previous relationships. Indy had not crossed it, though she’d tried—and she knew it. Other girls had been nothing to me. Vi had broken me within days, and yet I continued to push her away. I was constantly trying to re-establish the boundary she had breached.

Why?
Her voice in my head felt so intimate. Anyone else, and I’d have barked at them to get the hell out of my mind.

Not her.

Never her. I asked instead of commanded, and I thought snippy things to hurt her, to drive her away, so I could blame her for my weaknesses.

I don’t know
, I thought.
I’m sorry
. I didn’t have any other words that seemed adequate. I was sick of apologizing to her, but I would from now until forever.

She dropped back, letting the others flow around her, until we flew side by side. I reached for her, and she let me hold her hand. The act was simple, yet it spoke volumes.

“You mess me up,” I said.

“Why, Jag Barque . . . is that a compliment?”

I smiled, looking at her. “I don’t let anyone in.” Naked fear flowed in my voice.

She heard it, loud and clear. “I won’t hurt you,” she promised. “I love you.”

It was the first time she’d ever said it before I did. The words rang with truth, with power, and I knew she loved me.

“You have to find a way to let me in,” she said. “I won’t hurt you, but you’re hurting me. I refuse to live like my parents.”

“They love each other,” I said, surprised by her statement.

“They love what they can do for each other,” she corrected.
“I love you for you. Not for your voice, or because you’re the leader of the Resistance, or anything else. I love you because you’re Jag Barque, and because that’s good enough for me.”

I felt something hiding between her words. “You’re good enough for me.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t.”

“You feel like you aren’t.”

She pinned me with a pointed look. “Because you act like I’m not.”

I couldn’t argue. When I wouldn’t let her in, she heard
I’m not good enough for him. He doesn’t trust me. He doesn’t love me.

“This is very difficult for me.” I squeezed her hand. “You know that, yeah?”

She gripped my hand in return. “Yeah, I know that.”

*   *   *

Vi and I caught up to the group just as we entered the city proper. My guard went up. Something felt wrong. It was silent. Still. No steam rose from the factories; no movement flowed through the streets; no life stirred in the buildings.

Just over a month ago this city had bustled with workers. Thane had been here; Zenn’s father had been murdered. What had happened after I’d been taken to Freedom?

Thane swung around to fly beside me. “No transmissions.”

“Vi?” I asked. “What can you sense?”

“No Thinkers,” she responded. We all swept our eyes from side to side, expecting a threat to materialize out of thin air. “There are people here, but they’re all . . . asleep.”

“Asleep, asleep?” I asked. “Or brainwashed?”

“Asleep,” she said. “It’s one o’clock in the afternoon, and they’re in bed.”

“Insiders?” Gunner guessed. “Like Rise Twelve. They work at night and sleep during the day.”

“The whole city?” Raine asked, giving sound to my question.

“What happened to their Director?” I aimed my inquiry at Thane. He had been here, after all.

“Director Jeffries was promoted after your capture,” Thane said, squinting into the horizon. “Van made him Thinker over Confinement in Freedom. I don’t know who was positioned here.”

“They’re not here now,” Vi said. “I feel—” She squeezed her eyes shut. “A lot of strong will, but nothing like a Director.”

“The Insider movement was well received here,” Thane said. “Xander Bower had a lot of charisma, and he treated everyone like an equal. The people joined because of Xander’s excellent leadership.”

“Zenn’s dad?” Vi asked, her voice pitching up an octave. “Is he still here?”

“He’s dead,” I whispered.

She jerked her head toward me.
Dead?

“I’ll tell you the story later.”

Does Zenn know?
she asked.

I shrugged, but not in a callous way. More like
I don’t know, but I doubt it, and I don’t want to be the one to tell him
. In fact I wasn’t sure what I’d do if/when I ever saw Zenn again. Punching him seemed like a good idea though. Then apologizing, and then telling him about his dad.

Vi didn’t remark about me wanting to hit her ex-boyfriend, so I knew she was seriously disturbed that Zenn’s dad had died here. We landed, my team standing in the middle of the empty street, unsure where to go.

“This way,” I said, striding toward a building where I could feel the slightest hint of emotion. “Gunner?”

He joined me, casting his eyes around, up, and down. “What is that?” he asked.

“Someone is unsettled,” I said. “But not afraid. Not uncomfortable. Worried?”

He shook his head. “Worry feels almost right. But it’s a warm kind of worrying.”

“Yeah,” I said absently. I’d felt this emotion before. From
a very good friend. My heart skipped with hope. “Vi? There’s a man inside. Is his name Irvine?”

We’d reached the door. The panel on the top flashed with red lights—locked.

“He’s keeping all personal information buried,” she said.

I thought about Indy and what she’d do if she were here. She’d pound that door to the ground, yelling for her brother to cracking open up already. She’d look at me wildly, her pulse bouncing in her throat. She’d say my name in the most desperate way. I wanted the person in the building to be Irvine so bad. If not for myself, for Indy and her parents.

I looked up at the twenty-story building, imagining Irvine standing at the window looking down on us. “Irvine!” I yelled. “It’s Jag Barque!”

Behind me, Thane hissed his displeasure at my announcement. I ignored him as adrenaline coursed through my body. Before I was caught in the Goodgrounds, Irv had been assigned to come south and infiltrate the government. He could’ve done exactly that. He could’ve taken over after Jeffries was promoted.

A nasty thought struck me.
Maybe he’s not on our side anymore.

“No Thinkers here,” Vi murmured. “He has talent?”

“Yeah,” I said. “He’s a—”

“Technopath,” Vi finished. “I can feel that now.”

“Vi, can you get us in there? Gunn?” Desperation overrode every other impulse.

Whether Vi did it, or Gunn did, or Irvine did, the door switched to unlocked. Green lights decorated the top panel. I charged inside.

The lobby of the building streamed with tech. P-screens adorned every wall. Gadgets blinked in each corner; seeker-spiders scuttled into hidden places.

Before I could smile—this place screamed
Irvine!
—a man materialized in front of us, solidifying into a tall, hulking shape with dark skin.

Irvine Blightingdale.

I exhaled for what felt like the first time since watching him disappear into the crowd in the Goodgrounds market. Irvine stepped forward and gathered me into a hug. I couldn’t stop smiling and slapping him on the back. Near the end of the reunion, Irv said, “The time is now.”

“The time for what?” I asked. Vi immediately took my hand, claiming me as hers. Irv noted the movement and raised his eyebrows. He knew me as Jag Barque, the
don’t-give-a-damn, don’t-try-to-get-close-to-me
leader of the Resistance.

“Irvine, this is my girlfriend, Violet Schoenfeld. Vi, this is Irv, Indy’s brother and one of my best friends.”

As they shook hands, Irvine leaned in and whispered something to Vi that I couldn’t quite catch. She blushed.

After all the introductions, I pressed Irv again, “The time for what?”

“Freedom fell and is ready to be reborn,” he said. “We’re leaving for the capital in five days.”

“We’re coming,” I said automatically.

“I imagine you’ve been traveling. Let’s get you up to speed,” he said, turning toward his teched-out wall. “Anyone opposed to particle acceleration?”

*   *   *

As it turned out, we were all opposed to particle acceleration. Vi leaned against the wall, her eyes closed, moaning. My stomach lurched, upset it had been taken apart and put back together in under two seconds.

Irvine shook his head to reorient himself, then strode down the hallway and into a sunlit room. Gunn recovered faster than me but stayed with Raine, whose face was the color of white-crested waves.

Thane tended to Vi, which seemed ironic, all things considering. She motioned for me to go ahead, and my curiosity won. I stumbled down the hall and into Irvine’s techno lair. Blinking, flashing, pulsing lights bounced along every surface. If the particle accelerator hadn’t given me a stroke, this room would have.

The counters, shelves, walls, and ceiling were all silver, polished and reflective. Irv sat hunkered down in the corner behind a chest-high counter. The winking gadgets shone on his bald head, and he wore dark sunglasses as he worked with white-hot techtricity.

With his bare hands.

“Is it safe to come in?” I asked from the doorway.

“Definitely,” he said.

“Catch me up.” I moved past row upon row of Irv’s inventions. “What is all this stuff?”

“Weaponry. You think General Darke is going to go down without a fight?”

I slumped into the chair across from Irv. “Isaacs said the city is decimated. His tech emptied Rise One. Three other Rises crumbled to the ground.”

Irv didn’t look up from his work. “That leaves at least fifteen left to remove. And their Thinkers. And then the General.” He spared me a glance. “Trust me, you’re going to need weapons.”