Renegades

by Marissa Meyer

  Adrian clenched his fists. “Why weren’t we there? We forced the Detonator to reveal herself. We should have had the chance to go after her—all of them.”

  “Well, thank the powers you weren’t,” snapped Simon, his eyes blazing with such intensity Adrian drew back a step. “Did you hear what Hugh just said? Renegades were injured last night—a lot of Renegades, some of them our best fighters and tacticians. You aren’t—” He hesitated, a small grimace creasing the space between his dark brows. He was substantially calmer when he continued, “Each of you has the makings of a great superhero. I, for one, would like to see you survive long enough for that potential to be realized.” Then he fixed his gaze on Adrian, fierce with worry. “We need you to be careful.”

  Adrian swallowed, and for the first time he started to give more consideration to the Detonator’s ramblings at the library. She had wanted to hurt him more than any of them, knowing how it would hurt his fathers. He’d dismissed the threat outright—she was a villain, she wanted to kill all the Renegades—but now he wondered how much of a liability he posed. If something happened to him, could they go on being the superheroes the city needed?

  Of course they would. They would have to.

  But the look of horror that crossed, even briefly, over Simon’s eyes gave Adrian pause. Before he knew it, all the irritation he’d felt for not having been included in the raid on the Anarchist’s tunnels melted away.

  “Will you let us know if you find anything about them?”

  Simon glanced around at the others, before nodding.

  “And…” Adrian wiped his palms down his sides. “And did they find anything that might have suggested a connection to Nightmare?”

  It seemed, for a moment, that they were all hesitant to answer. Finally, it was Hugh who said, “There was a train car, one that was recently occupied and lived in. We dusted for fingerprints, and some matched the prints that were found on Nightmare’s gun. But we did not find her uniform, or as yet, any clue as to where she or the others might have gone.”

  The knot in Adrian’s stomach loosened. It was something. It was a start, and a confirmation.

  She was an Anarchist.

  Licking his lips, he met each of the Council member’s eyes in turn. “Might I make one request?”

  “A request, Mr. Everhart?” said Tamaya, her expression suggesting that she thought it was the height of insolence for him to be making requests after everything that had happened.

  “I would like to question Winston Pratt.”

  Behind him, Nova inhaled sharply.

  “We know now, or have plenty reason to believe, that Nightmare is an Anarchist. We have an Anarchist in custody. I would like to interrogate him myself.” He hesitated, before adding, “It will be a good way for us to fill our time during the probation.”

  “Winston Pratt has already been questioned,” said Evander.

  “But not since we’ve had specific evidence connecting him to Nightmare, right?” said Adrian. “Other than her pushing him out of that balloon, at least.”

  “We’ll consider it,” said Hugh, and his tone gave nothing away—no promises, no hopes.

  “Thank you,” said Adrian, inclining his head.

  They were dismissed.

  Adrian ushered his team back through the hall. Oscar and Ruby both seemed to deflate the moment they stepped away from the podium, as if they’d been holding their breaths the whole time, and it occurred to Adrian that the Council might be really intimidating to them. He supposed he was intimidated a bit, too, but he knew it wasn’t the same.

  “Wait—Miss McLain?” called Kasumi.

  Nova froze. Her back straightened like a pin and Adrian caught a flash of nervousness cross her features, before she quickly schooled them into her practiced nonchalance. Still, she couldn’t fully hide the gulp as she turned back around.

  “Yes?”

  “We understand that you have an interest in weaponry,” Kasumi said. “It so happens that our armory has become quite overwhelmed as they attempt to catalogue all the equipment that was saved from the fire. We thought you might be able to assist them. It could be a good opportunity for you to learn about some of the other operations we do here.”

  Frowning, Adrian stepped up beside Nova. “Hold on. Nova has demonstrated that she’s more valuable to the Renegades than for basic data entry. Can’t you get someone—”

  “I’ll do it,” said Nova. He turned to her and saw that she was smiling, though it was the stretched-thin kind of smile that didn’t quite seem to fit her. “I’d be happy to help.” She looked at Adrian. “It will keep me busy during our probation. And, besides, I can always work nights.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  NOVA FOLLOWED THE OTHERS into the elevator, still edgy over the whole experience before the Council. She was proud of herself for staying so calm during the proceedings, when every time she looked into their faces she thought of little Evie, she heard gunshots, she remembered all over again that these were the people who had promised to protect her family, and had failed.

  “Well,” Oscar said brightly as the elevator doors shut behind them, “that could have been worse. They say probation—I hear vacation.”

  “No kidding,” said Ruby, slumping against the wall. “I was worried they’d take us off street duty forever and force us to do, I don’t know, admin tasks or something.” She grimaced at Nova. “Sorry about that assignment, by the way. It sounds awful.”

  Nova shrugged. “Boredom is my ultimate enemy. I like having something to keep busy with.”

  Truthfully, she couldn’t imagine a better assignment. Entry into their arms database and computer systems? Irresistible. Anything that could speed up the process of uncovering new, useful information would be gratefully welcomed at this point.

  Anything to get Leroy, Honey, and even on occasion Phobia out of “her” house. It hadn’t even been a day yet and already she was rife with anxiety, sure that some Renegade would decide to check up on their new recruit, only to find her home overrun with Anarchists.

  Besides, they couldn’t avoid the tunnels forever, no matter how much they were enjoying daylight and plant life on their very own patch of land. Even if that patch of land was smaller than a sleeping bag and that plant life was nothing but nettles and dandelions.

  Dandelions, she had heard Honey say that morning, were severely underrated.

  The elevator plummeted back down to the ground floor and they spilled out into the lobby.

  “Lunch, anyone?” said Oscar. “It’s taco day in the cafeteria.”

  “I’m going to visit Max,” said Adrian, glancing up toward the sky bridge. “I’m sure he’s been watching news stories about the library all night.”

  Nova’s pulse jumped. Though her focus had been caught up in the Sentinel lately, she remained intensely curious about Max. The Bandit. She still knew so little about him, his abilities, or why he was stuck in that quarantine. “Can I come too?”

  Adrian looked at her, surprised—but, pleasantly, she thought. “Sure, if you want.”

  When they arrived outside the quarantine, Max was smashing a hammer into the rooftop of the Cloven Cross Library. Pieces of glass were scattering around his knees but if he was worried about cutting himself, it wasn’t apparent. He was, at least, wearing protective goggles as he decimated the model.

  Adrian knocked at the window.

  When Max showed no sign of having heard him, he knocked louder.

  Max startled and looked over his shoulder, pushing the goggles up on top of his moppy hair. He grinned, and there was something so bizarre about seeing that bright smile, coupled with the goggles, the hammer, and a demolished library that Nova couldn’t keep back a laugh.

  “That’s looking really good,” said Adrian, twirling one finger in the direction of the library. “But more destruction on the east side. That wall is pretty much gone.”

  “I wasn’t done yet,” said Max, a bit stubbornly. Standing, he crossed his arms and surveye
d the city around him. “I was thinking, now that the Detonator’s active again, I’m probably going to be doing a lot of restructuring in the next few weeks.”

  “Hopefully not,” said Adrian, frowning. “We’re aiming for less overall destruction, not more.”

  “Speaking of restructuring,” said Nova, walking a few feet along the glass wall to get a better view of the Merchant district, “would you mind if I offered a few suggestions? You seem very concerned about accuracy.”

  Max straightened, almost giddily. “Yeah, anything.”

  She pressed her finger against the glass. “See that row of town houses you have on Mission Street? It’s actually one block up, on Stockton.”

  Max stepped over a few blocks and pointed. “These ones?”

  “Yep.”

  Adrian cocked his head. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. I’ve spent a lot of hours just … walking. I know the city pretty well.”

  “But then what goes on Mission?” asked Max.

  “Two-story commercial buildings. There are stores on the ground floor, maybe offices on the second, although I guess some of them could be apartments. There used to be a boarded-up real estate office on the corner, and when I was a kid there was a pharmacy, but I don’t know if it’s still there.”

  “Hold on,” said Max. “I’m going to get something to write this down.”

  He disappeared into his back rooms and Nova realized after a moment that Adrian was watching her.

  “You used to live around there?” he asked.

  “When I was really little. My family had an apartment a few blocks away. Why?”

  He looked away, shrugging. “My mom used to patrol that area a lot. It was kind of her … route, I guess.”

  Nova started. “Your mom?”

  Adrian gave her a look, at first surprised, then amused. Leaning toward her, he fake-whispered, “I’m not actually related to the Captain and the Dread Warden, you know.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Obviously. I know who Lady—”

  “Okay, say that again,” said Max, skipping past the marina. “Two-stories, real estate office, pharmacy questionable. Now, is that on this corner?”

  Nova shook her jumbled thoughts away. “Um. Yeah. Wait—no, that one, across the street. Yeah, that one. If it’s still there.”

  “Could you find out for me?” Max said.

  His gaze was so hopeful that Nova had no choice but to shrug. “Sure?”

  “Nova’s really busy,” Adrian interjected. “She was just given a new assignment from the armory.”

  Max scowled at him. “Then maybe you can find out. What are you doing today that’s so important?”

  Adrian glared back.

  “We’ll find out,” said Nova. “Just give us a few days. Also, our trip to Council Hall this morning gave me an idea.” She jutted her chin toward the model of Renegades Headquarters, its surreal tower rising above the rest of the skyline. “How would you like to have functioning elevators on the headquarters tower?”

  Max went still. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s simple. I made one for my dollhouse when I was a kid. I mean, this will require some more materials, but the principle is the same.” She ticked off on her fingers. “We’ll need some syringes and a long tube, and Adrian will have to redraw the elevators in a way I can connect them to the new hydraulic lift. I’ll sketch up a plan to show you what I mean.”

  Max turned his excited attention toward Adrian. “You’ll do it?”

  “Sure, of course,” said Adrian with a surprised laugh, and the smile he gave Nova—a little intrigued, a little grateful—brought unexpected warmth to her cheeks. “Am I drawing up the syringes and tubing, too, Miss Engineer?”

  “Absolutely not,” said Nova, feigning disgust. “The whole point of this experiment is to show how normal, everyday objects can, through the power of physics, be turned into something really cool. That point gets missed when you just”—she waved toward Adrian’s hands—“conjure whatever you need.”

  He nodded seriously, though his eyes were still shining behind the thick frames of his glasses. “Right. Because I could, in theory, just redraw the elevators to make them functional. You know … by magic.”

  Nova pointed a finger toward his nose. “My science trumps your magic. You’ll see.”

  “I can’t wait,” said Adrian.

  “The technicians have syringes.”

  She glanced toward Max, who had made his way over so he was standing just on the other side of the glass.

  “Lots of them,” he added, and Nova couldn’t keep her eyes from darting to the bruises on the inside of his arms.

  “Right,” she said. “That’ll work. I bet they have rolls of tubing lying around somewhere too. Maybe Adrian and I can go in and … talk to them? See if they’ll let us borrow some stuff?” And look around while we’re there …

  But Adrian shook his head. “Even I don’t have clearance to go inside those labs. But I bet if Max made them a list, they’d bring it to him.”

  Nova’s shoulders sank, but only briefly as she saw another opening. Her brow furrowed as she turned back to Max. “They try really hard to keep you happy in here, don’t they?”

  Just like that, she saw his enthusiasm deflate, and Nova had the distinct impression that he tried to forget that he was trapped in there as much as possible.

  “Sorry,” she said. “It’s just … what are they doing to you? What are all the blood samples for?”

  Max looked down at the needle wounds in his arm, stretching the skin to inspect them, as if this was the first time he’d paid them much attention. “Blood samples, tissue samples, bone-marrow samples…”

  “Exactly,” said Nova.

  But when Max looked up, it wasn’t at her, but at Adrian, his expression slightly pleading. For his part, Adrian’s smile had disappeared, overshadowed by a furrowed brow and tight lips.

  “Oh, right,” said Nova. “I don’t have the clearance for that information.”

  “It’s really important, what they’re doing,” said Max, and Nova wondered if he was trying to convince her, or himself. “They think they’re on the verge of a breakthrough, even. It’s going to change prodigy relations forever.”

  “Prodigy relations?”

  Max flushed. “That’s what they keep saying.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Adrian cleared his throat.

  Nova glared at him. “Top secret?”

  He opened his palms apologetically. “We don’t make the rules.”

  No, she thought wryly. Your family does.

  But she tried to smile as if she understood. “Am I allowed to ask where your parents are?”

  “They’re dead,” said Max, without a beat of hesitation or an ounce of sorrow.

  “Oh,” stammered Nova. “I’m … I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” said Max. “They threw me off Sentry Bridge when I was two weeks old.”

  Nova’s heart jolted and she stared, speechless, as Max casually stooped and shuffled around a few of the glass boats tied to the docks at his feet.

  “They were afraid of prodigies?” she breathed, thinking of what Adrian had said about the prodigy children who were so often abandoned by their superstitious parents.

  But Max shook his head. “They were prodigies. Villains. Members of the Roaches.”

  The Roaches. The same gang that had ordered the death of her family.

  “But then … why?”

  Max glanced up at Adrian and again she could see the hesitation as the conversation crept too close to confidential territory. She followed the look and saw that Adrian’s shoulders were tense, his jaw clenched, his anger toward two villains who would so heartlessly murder their own child quickly surfacing.

  “I was dangerous to them,” said Max, speaking slowly. “And the rest of the gang too. They knew they’d be better off without me.”

  “How did you survive?”

  “Captain Chromium and
the Dread Warden saw it happen. The Captain dived in and rescued me, while the Dread Warden went after them. They got away, but … I figure they probably died in the Battle for Gatlon.”

  Nova’s fists clenched. “They would have been dead before then.”

  Max looked up, surprised, and she felt Adrian’s head swivel toward her, too, and immediately her brain started scouring for truths and lies and she found herself picking through her words as tentatively as Max had been. Perhaps, she thought, it was unfair to begrudge him his secrets when she was constantly tiptoeing around her own.

  “All the Roaches were killed a few months before the battle. The whole gang was slaughtered.” She glanced at Adrian. “Didn’t the Renegades know that?”

  He frowned, shaking his head.

  “Oh. Well … they say Ace…” She cleared her throat. “Ace Anarchy himself did it. Supposedly, there was a … a dispute of some sort. Between the two gangs.”

  A dispute. Like the Roaches murdering Ace’s brother and his family.

  “Huh,” said Adrian, scratching behind his ear. “That explains why the Roaches were so quiet those last few months.”

  Nova glanced from Max to Adrian and back. “So, the Captain rescued you and, what, did they adopt you too? Are you two, like, brothers?”

  Adrian’s smile started to return, and the sight of it made something unwind in Nova’s chest. “Something like that.”

  “I always had to be kept separate from the others, though,” said Max. “Captain Chromium is the only one who’s immune to me. When they started construction on headquarters, here, they designed these rooms for me, specifically. They wanted me to feel like I was still a part of the Renegades, still in the middle of everything, even if … you know. I’m not really.”