Defiance Rising (3 page)

“More of them?”
 
The urge to kick him in the shin for calling me “princess” is nearly too hard to resist, but I reign myself in as I think over the implications of his words.
 
More aliens means more search parties.
 
How long can my friends and I remain hidden in the forest?

Like it or not, I need him.

“They’re looking for something,” he continues, biting on the side of his fingernail.
 
His hands look grimy; no doubt it’s been a while since he took a decent bath.
 
“Don’t ask me what, but I just know they are.”

“How do you know?”
 
I cross my arms over my chest, trying to get a read on him.
 
His tone is even and his eyes are locked onto me instead of drifting off the side.
 
There’s no sign of sweat along his brow or even a twitch in his fingers.
 
He’s either a really good liar or he’s saving my skin right now.
 

“Well…” he scratches the light stubble across his jawline.
 
“Promise you won’t do anything stupid?”

I puff up with indignation.
 
“I
can
be careful when I want to be.”

“Must not want that too often then, huh?” He chuckles to himself.

I reach back and grasp my knife.
 
The temptation to lash out and knick the chin of his pretty little face curls my lips into a smile.
 
He follows the curve of my arm around my waist and takes a step back.
 
“Wise decision.”

He smirks, crossing his arms over his chest.
 
“You’re feisty.
 
I like that in a girl.”

“And I’m going.”
 
I turn and stomp toward the door at the far end of the car.
 

I have no idea how he manages to get in front of me.
 
One moment he’s standing behind me and the next he’s flipping off the wall and landing only a couple inches from my nose.
 
I gasp and stumble backward but strong fingers clasp around my wrists and yank me upright.
 
His hands are large and calloused against my tender skin.
 

“Do you mind?” I hiss, yanking free of his grasp

“Actually, I don’t.”
 
His fingers uncurl from my arm and I step back from him, unnerved by his proximity.
 

“What’s with the acrobatics?”
 
I lower my hands to my sides, resisting the urge to rub my sore wrists.
 

“Do you want to see my proof about the Grounders or not?” He asks, evading my question

I purse my lips as I try to decide.
 
A huge part of me wants to know, but that would mean spending more time with Bastien and right now I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.
 
He makes me feel annoyingly flustered and I can’t quite figure out why.

“Look, I’ll show you the way.
 
Once we get there, you can decide.
 
Fair enough?”

I look beyond him into the dark tunnel.
 
I can’t say that I fancy wandering around out there on my own trying to find the exit, but what if Bastien knows about the tremors?
 
I have to know what is causing them before I leave.
 

“Fine,” I sigh, shaking my head in disbelief.
 
How did I get myself into this?
 
“I’m in.”

I try to ignore his triumphant grin as he leads me toward to rear of the car.
 
He dips low to retrieve his flashlight and shotgun.
 
I raise an eyebrow at the second item.
 
“Rats,” he shrugs in explanation.

“Must be some large rats.”

“You have no idea,” he laughs.
 
The way he says it makes me wonder if Bastien might just have a hidden fear of furry little rodents or if he’s hiding something.

He unlatches the metal handle and shoves the door open.
 
I wince at the squeal of rusted metal echoing ahead of us into the tunnel.
 
Bastien hands me the light and leaps out confidently onto the darkened track.
 
When he holds up his hand to me, I peer over the edge.

The drop onto the tracks looks to be only to be about four feet, but leaping out into darkness makes me nervous.
 
What if I land on one of the tracks and twist my ankle?
 
Then I’d be stuck here, with him and mutant rats.

“You coming?”

“Yeah,” I mutter, gripping the edge of the doorway.
 
“Can you give me some light?”

Bastien sighs and sets the flashlight down on its end.
 
The white beam of light pierces through the darkness, shining up to the ceiling above.
 
I squint, trying to see the curve of the track.
 

“We don’t have all night, Princess.”
 
He offers his hand to assist me.

I clamp my fingers tightly around his and leap to the ground, easily missing the wide tracks.
 
When I let go, I’m pleased to see him shake out his bruised hand.

The light bounces before us as we walk, casting dancing shadows around the domed tunnel.
 
Our footsteps echo as we follow the metal tracks leading away from the subway car.
 
The hairs on my arms and neck rise as I struggle to peer through the oppressive darkness around us.
 
“Don’t you ever get claustrophobic down here?”
 

“Sometimes,” he admits.
 
“It’s still the safest place in town.”

The scampering of feet nearby sends me reeling into Bastien’s side.
 
He reaches out and steadies me, snickering as he lifts the light to reveal the mother of all rats.
 
Its brown fur is matted and its beady eyes gleam in the light.
 
“Let me guess, you don’t like rats either.”

“I don’t like being startled by them.
 
Big difference.”
 
I pull away from his grasp and run a hand through my disheveled hair.
 

“Uh-huh.”
 
I can tell by the way the light bounces that he’s laughing at me.
 
I grit my teeth and walk on without him.
 
Thankfully, he rushes to catch up or my bravado would’ve come to a grinding halt without his light.
 
We walk for several minutes in silence.
 

“So why
are
you in the City?” he asks.

“You’re gonna go with mindless chatter now?”
 

“No,” he says, turning to point his flashlight at a set of steps that rise up to another level.
 
I start to mount the first step, but he pulls me back.
 
“I really want to know.”

I chew on my lip, thinking over the ramifications of my words.
 
What if he’s a spy for the Caldonians?
 
He’s certainly hot enough to fit the bill, but his eyes are true blue and his words hold the slightest hint of an accent.
 
“I ran out of food a couple days back.
 
I’m low on ammo and it’s getting cold.
 
Seemed like a good idea.”

Bastien raises the light to peer at me.
 
“Short, sweet and with as little emotion as possible.
 
That seems to be your M.O.”

“Like you would know,” I scoff.

“Fine,” he shrugs.
 
The light sways, illuminating discolored ceiling tiles overhead.
 
A large exit sign hangs down over the steps.
 
“You don’t have to tell me about your friends or how you learned to aim a gun like that.
 
I’m sure you just read it in a book somewhere.”

My hand drifts to the back of my pants where my gun is wedged.
 
Memories of years’ worth of training sessions with Eamon in the woods near our camp filter through my mind. Bruised muscles, cracked knuckles, torn ligaments…good times. I still have the scars to go along with Eamon’s spear fetish.
 

Life in the rebellion has never been easy.
 
Food is always scarce and medicine is practically non-existent.

My days are consumed with either training or hunting, although I prefer hunting.
 
The woods are my sanctuary, the only place I can escape the rigidity of stone and regulation.
 

I shake my head to clear out the memories and stare Bastien down, not giving him an ounce of information.
 
“You said you have something to show me?”

He shoots me a pointed look, one that tells me he knows I’m holding something back, but he doesn’t question me further.
 
Instead, he raises his finger toward the stairs.
 
“Follow this to the top and you will find a metal door that leads out onto the street.
 
Open it slowly.
 
It tends to stick so be careful with that.
 
Once you’re on the street, turn right and make your way to the building on the opposite corner.
 
You’ll find a set of stairs in the back.
 
Go to the roof and take a peek, but keep your head down.”

“You’re not coming?” I ask as he holds out the flashlight to me.
 
Now that I’m here, faced with who knows what on the street above, I have to admit I’m a little unnerved.
 
I can handle anything that the forest throws at me but the City seems to play by completely different rules.
 
Maybe having Bastien next to me wouldn’t be a bad idea after all.
 

“I said I’d show you the way.
 
That’s it.
 
Besides, you seem capable of handling yourself.”
 
His voice is tight as he shoves the light into my hand then turns and plops down on the bottom step.
 
“I’ll be here when you get back.”

I raise the light to shoulder height and peer up the stairs.
 
This section of the subway seems older, dingy and stained yellow by years of disuse.
 

Each step I take buries Bastien further into the darkness behind me.
 
I’m nervous, but I refuse to show it.
 
Maybe this is what he planned, for me to beg him come with me.
 

The stairs level out onto a wide platform.
 
A patchwork of cracked, gray tiles leads to the outer door, where an old chain dangles from a broken latch.
 
I shine the light on the door, surveying the hinges, and notice they are rusted and pulling away from the wall.
 
I’m surprised the door has remained standing this long.

Taking a deep breath, I press the button on the back of the flashlight and fall into complete darkness.
 
I consider calling out to Bastien to make sure he’s still there but choose not to.
 
I don’t want him thinking I’m scared.

I curl my fingers around the cold metal knob, twist and pull.
 
Nothing happens.
 
I try again and again with the same result.

“Need help up there?” Bastien calls from the tunnel below.
  
I can almost hear the smirk in his voice.

“No. I can do it on my own, thanks.”
 
I swear as I yank on the knob.
 
The door only shifts slightly and I have to remind myself not to yell in frustration otherwise this entire stealth mission will go down in flames.

“You are more stubborn than an old mule!”

“You don’t even know me,” I grunt, straining against the door.
 

“Don’t need to.
 
It’s pretty obvious.”

Releasing the handle, I crouch down and search the floor for pieces of broken tile.
 
Latching onto one the size of my palm, I hurl it down the stairs into the darkness.
 
It smacks into the wall and shatters.
 

“Throw like a girl, too!” He howls with laughter.

“Urgh!”
 
If I don’t get this door open soon I swear I’m going to throttle him.
 
I twist and turn the knob until I’m a sweaty, panting mess.
 
“What is wrong with this door?”

“There’s a trick to it.”
 
He pauses for what I assume to be dramatic effect.
 
If he means to increase my frustration then it’s working.
 
“You have to say please, though.”