The Survivor

by Dylan Steel

  “People change.”

  “Not that much,” he said with a small laugh.

  “You’re wrong,” she said somberly, thinking about her own swing from the Lawless cause. She’d landed squarely in the camp of self-preservation and cemented it with her induction into the Kunbriat.

  “I was trying to lighten the mood.” He sighed, ruffling his hair in frustration as he slowed to a stop. “You don’t have to agree with me. It’s not like it’d be the first time,” he added under his breath.

  “That’s because you say stupid things,” she retorted, crossing her arms, “so it’d be pretty stupid to trust that what you’re saying is true.”

  “But if you don’t try to trust someone eventually, you’re going to wake up one day and realize you’ve never really been living,” he said quietly.

  A stab of pain shot through her heart. “How dare you,” she growled.

  “Surviving isn’t living, Sage.”

  “Tell that to Penelope,” she snapped. “Fancy sentiments aren’t gonna do her a whole lot of good, are they?”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Of course you didn’t.” She looked at him in disgust.

  “Rox, Sage, I—” He clenched his jaw, looking around as he lowered his voice. “—I’m saying I’m not ok with the way things are. Don’t you get it?”

  “Sure I get it,” she said dryly. “You’re sorry she’s dead.”

  “No—I mean, yes, but…” His nostrils flared. “I’ve started making some connections with other people who feel the same way. People who want to make a difference. Make a change.”

  Sage’s eyes widened. “You mean the Lawless.” Her words were no more than a whisper.

  He nodded.

  “These connections…” She swallowed, continuing hoarsely, “Did you start making them before or after the attack on the Cabinet?”

  He flinched. “Before,” he admitted quietly.

  Licking her lips, she glanced around furtively. Satisfied the street was relatively clear, she grabbed his hand and dragged him into the nearest alley.

  “Why would you tell me all this?” she hissed, still looking over her shoulder as she pulled them behind a pile of trash. In a twisted way, it was fortunate that they’d wandered into one of the less traveled areas of the city. She never would’ve come this way if she’d been paying more attention. This area was filled with red lights. It wouldn’t be wise to stay too long.

  “You may not fully trust me, but I trust you. And I want to live, not just survive.” He wiggled out of her grasp and set his hands on her shoulders, looking her squarely in the eye. “And I’m pretty sure that deep down you feel the same way. You’ve gotten really good at pretending, but you’ve never really been part of this world.” He blew out an unsteady breath. “I want you to join me.”

  “You have no idea what you’re asking me to do.”

  He frowned. “It’s not like I haven’t thought about this, Sage. I have. A lot.”

  “Well, you should’ve thought about it more. I’m not—”

  “Do you ever just feel like running out the gate?” he interrupted.

  Sage’s lips parted slightly as she stared at him in silence. Her hands were trembling, and she didn’t care anymore if he noticed.

  “Just leaving all this behind,” he continued quietly, thoughtfully. “Because I do. I’ve thought about it lots of times.”

  “It’s impossible,” she whispered. “Even if you wanted to. The zeptobes can read our intentions—they’d never let us leave.”

  “But what if it wasn’t impossible?”

  “What you’re talking about is treason. If they knew we were even talking about this, they’d kill us without a thought.”

  “There are some things worth dying for.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Spoken like someone who’s never lost anyone they care about.”

  He frowned. “You think it’s selfish.”

  “It is,” she snapped, raising her voice more than she meant to. “Maybe the Lawless should think about who they’re leaving behind before they pick a fight they can’t win.”

  “It’s good advice, mate.” A low voice echoed across the alley, interrupting them.

  Lightheadedness overtook Sage in an instant. Stars danced in front of her eyes as all the sounds around her muted and transformed into a deafening, steady thumping in her ears.

  They weren’t alone.

  16. SURVIVAL

  Fear washed over Sage as she turned to see who was speaking. Several figures were closing in on them from the far side of the alley. She swung her head in the other direction and saw another handful of silhouettes approaching through the twilight.

  Her face whitened as she realized they were outnumbered. And trapped. She reached for Everett’s hand, tightening her grip.

  “Sounds like your girl’s smarter than you. Maybe you should listen to her,” the voice spoke again.

  “Yeah,” a second throaty voice chimed in from the opposite side, “I’ll bet she’s even warned you not to stay out after dark too. Smart skirt, that one.”

  Ignoring them, Everett pulled Sage into a tight hug, crushing her against his chest. The approaching men whistled appreciatively, murmuring despicable suggestions in low tones that made her shudder in his arms.

  “Remember what we learned about Chances? They need to be close enough to strip them from us, or it won’t work. We just need to put some distance between us and them.” Everett’s lips brushed against her hair. His words were quiet, meant for her ears alone. “We need to work together to pick off a couple of them. That’s the only way we stand a chance. Start with the ones on your right.”

  She nodded stiffly, eyeing the men warily as they drew nearer.

  “The first chance you get to run, run. Don’t look back.”

  “You can’t fight them alone, Ev—”

  “I’ll be fine. I’ll run too. Promise. But we don’t have time to argue about this.” He pulled away, his eyes meeting hers with a flash of wild desperation. Please, he mouthed.

  “Ok,” she whispered.

  He stepped in front of Sage, pushing her between himself and the wall. Her heart was racing in her chest as she peered out from behind his broad shoulders. She knew he was a good fighter, but she was better, and there were too many of them. If she didn’t stay and fight with him, he wouldn’t leave the alley alive.

  Everett clasped his hand over his bracelet. Sage did the same, not hesitating as she directed her attention to the closest man on her right.

  Strip a Chance.

  The man’s face contorted in rage as he tensed and grabbed his own bracelet menacingly. “Oy. The skirt thinks she can mess with me, Dutch.”

  No time to waste. Strip a Chance, she thought again.

  “OY!”

  The man on the opposite side of the alley started laughing. Dutch, presumably. “Well, maybe we should show her how much better things go when she cooperates, Tooz.”

  Chills poured down Sage’s spine as laughter erupted from the rest of the men, bouncing eerily off the walls of the buildings surrounding them. She stared them down, still directing her thoughts toward who she assumed was Tooz. Strip a Chance.

  “OY!” Tooz glared at her, hollering over them as he reached for his own wrist. “This hurts, Dutch! Stop wasting time!”

  “Right. Gents!” Dutch whirled a finger in the air and stopped, pointing at Sage.

  A hollow feeling opened in her chest. Her eyes widened as she looked at Tooz again. Strip a Ch—

  “Aghh,” Sage moaned, dropping to her hands and knees. Blinding pain ripped through her entire body as all the men suddenly turned their attention to her. “S-stop,” she gasped. “P-lease.”

  “Sure thing, darlin’. Just keep your hand off that bracelet,” Dutch said soothingly.

  She nodded, tears streaming from her eyes. Having a Chance stripped before had felt nothing like this.

  This must have been how Penelope felt right before she died.
<
br />   A sob caught in her throat as she pushed herself back up onto her feet. Another painful jolt shot through her, and she stumbled, catching herself against the wall. “I—stopped—” she whimpered.

  “Yeah, but he didn’t,” Tooz snarled, shooting a venomous look at Everett as he stalked closer. “He needs to know there are cons—” He stopped mid-sentence, collapsing limply on the ground a few feet away.

  “How’s that for consequences?” Everett spat. He held his bracelet firm, turning his attention to the next man.

  “Aw, see, now you’ve done it,” Dutch drawled, spinning his finger in a tight circle.

  Sage’s scream pierced the night air as her body stretched rigid for just a moment before she sank to her knees again, squeezing her head between her hands.

  Everett stopped and whirled around, catching her arms as she fell.

  “It’s ok. It’s gonna be ok,” he murmured in her ear as he helped her stand back up. “First chance you get—”

  “Doesn’t have to be this way,” Dutch said lazily. He was nearly on top of them now. “I’m sure we could come to some sort of an agreement before you attack another one of my men.”

  “Sure,” Everett ground out, pushing Sage behind himself, “just let us walk away, and we won’t be any more trouble.”

  “Now, see, that’s really not the sort of agreement I had in mind,” Dutch said, shaking his head slowly. He flexed his knuckles, letting out a series of sharp pops. “And you’ve already caused me some trouble. I’m down a perfectly good man now thanks to you two. Well, maybe not perfectly good. He seems to have oversold his worth a bit. But I’ll be in need of a replacement all the same.” He lifted his eyebrow in Everett’s direction. “Interested?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “It’d be in your best interest to reconsider.”

  “I’d be happy to discuss it with you gentlemen after you let the lady go,” Everett said evenly.

  “Aw, see, now you’re still trying to negotiate.” Dutch stopped just out of Everett’s reach. His eyes narrowed. “It’s like you think you make the rules here. You don’t.”

  “So who makes the rules, Dutch?” Everett asked, keeping himself between the men and Sage.

  Dutch’s lips curled up in a sadistic smile. “The one who wins.” His arm shot forward lightning fast, catching Everett by the throat as he pushed him back into the wall, knocking Sage out of the way.

  “No!” Sage screamed.

  The next few seconds passed in a blur. The two men who’d been standing behind Tooz rushed to grab Sage as the men behind Dutch rushed to his side, helping him subdue a struggling Everett.

  Anger blazed behind her eyes as her Bokja training took over her limbs without a thought. Blood roared in her ears as she drew her leg up, kicking the first man solidly in the stomach. His eyes bulged as he gasped for breath, bending over and crumpling to the ground.

  The second man stepped into his place immediately, dodging the blow that Sage intended to land on his jaw. He grabbed her shoulder, driving his knee up into her stomach. She threw an arm down, but she wasn’t fast enough to block it and wound up absorbing the brunt of the strike.

  “Ooomphf.”

  Gasping for breath, Sage trapped his leg before he could pull it back, stepping forward and hooking one of her own legs behind his. She threw her weight into her upper body as her shoulder slammed forward, sending both of them crashing to the ground.

  This wasn’t a tournament. There were no Coordinators. No one would stop this fight if it got out of hand. No one would stop her.

  Sage sensed movement over her shoulder as one of the other men approached her from behind. She didn’t have time to drag this out. Her hand shot forward as she punched the man beneath her in the throat, hoping it would be enough to subdue him. Her mind barely had time to register the garbled choking sounds he made as he clutched at his throat, his body falling limp.

  Scrambling to her feet, Sage turned to face her new attacker. His eyes narrowed in on her face. He wouldn’t underestimate her like the first two had—he’d seen what she’d just done. She no longer had the element of surprise working in her favor.

  He lunged forward, throwing punches that Sage scarcely managed to dodge before the next one came at her. His fist grazed her arm, sending her twisting off balance, giving him just the opening that he needed to drop her.

  She must’ve blacked out for a second because the next thing she knew, her hair was being yanked roughly, forcing the rest of her body off the ground. She blinked in confusion as she clawed at her hair. Gritting her teeth, Sage made a grab for the hand on top of her head, clamping on and twisting as she thrust her elbow into his side, just above his ribs. He dropped his hands, staggering backward.

  Light glinted off something in the trash pile beside her. A mirror. Perfect. Time to finish this fight.

  Kicking her heel back at the same time as her fist flew forward, Sage heard two distinct, satisfying crunches. Nose and glass.

  The man dropped to his knees, holding his face as blood bubbled out from under his hands. Her foot shot forward, snapping his neck backward with a gut-wrenching crack. There wasn’t time to feel remorse.

  In one fluid motion, Sage stooped to grab a shard of glass and turned toward Dutch. He was still holding Everett against the wall of the building, but he was now sagging under his hold. Sage sucked in a sharp breath and made her final move.

  Dutch had obviously been counting on his henchmen to subdue her. He wasn’t expecting her to attack him from behind.

  She pounced without hesitation, wrenching one of his arms at an unnatural angle behind his back and spinning him around as she jabbed the edge of the glass dangerously close to his jugular. Everett dropped to the ground behind them, unmoving.

  “Call them off!” she shouted. “Now!”

  “Alright, alright, calm down, darlin’. If you’ll remember, I did say the winner makes the rules.” His eyes moved across the span of the alley. “Gents, you heard the lady. Stand down.”

  “No, don’t split up. Everyone goes to that end of the alley,” she ordered, pointing Dutch’s body in the direction she meant.

  “Do it,” Dutch said.

  “Farther!” Sage barked, swinging her head side to side as she held him close, watching as they retreated. “You ok?” she called over her shoulder at Everett. She couldn’t afford to look away from Dutch and the other men, so she had no idea how badly he’d been injured in the fighting.

  “I think I’ll survive,” he managed in a hoarse voice.

  “I’d prefer you lived,” she said deliberately, still scanning the alley as she tightened her grip on the shard. It cut into her palm, sending a trail of blood down her arm.

  She could’ve sworn she heard Everett grinning as he dragged himself to his feet, coughing.

  “You sure you know how to use that thing, darlin’?” Dutch drawled lazily, seemingly unconcerned that she could slit his throat in an instant.

  “I think I can manage,” she growled.

  “Aw, it’s not an issue of skill, darlin’,” Dutch said gently, almost as if he was worried he’d somehow offended her. “I’ve just seen how capable you are. Nah, I’m talking about what it takes to drain the life from a man. Putting your hands on another person and feeling their life slipping right through your fingers.” He traced a finger along her arm, smiling maniacally as she tensed at his touch and pressed the sharp edge deeper into his neck, torquing his pinned arm harder until he stopped.

  “It’s not the same as touching a bracelet and thinking a pretty thought and walking away, never really knowing what you’ve done,” he panted as he stretched out his free arm and arched his back, unable to prevent himself from straining against her hold. “Eprah’s got death packaged up so shiny and clean you hardly know what you’re doing when you’re taking a life.”

  “And yet, you won’t be the first man I’ve stabbed,” she said coldly, Sam’s face flashing across her memory.

  “Whoo-eee, yo
u’re a real treat, aren’t you?” Dutch grinned wildly. “I’m awfully glad we ran into you tonight.”

  “Can’t say the feeling’s mutual.”

  “Aw, now, you haven’t even bothered tryin’ to get to know me yet, darlin’. I think you’d like me if you did.”

  “Everett, can you walk?” Sage asked, ignoring Dutch.

  “Yeah,” he croaked.

  “Good. We’re gonna walk right out of this alley. Dutch is gonna come to the end of the alley with us, and then we’re gonna all go our separate ways.”

  “Aw, see, that could be a problem, darlin’.”

  Ice wound its way through her chest at the warning in his tone. “Why is that exactly, Dutch?” she hissed in his ear.

  “This isn’t our first dance, darlin’.”

  Her lips curled in disgust. “I’ve never met you before.”

  “Naw, our first dance. Me and the gents. Though I think I’d like to have a dance with you.” He chuckled. “But you’re not leaving here alive. Not without my permission.”

  “I thought you said the winner makes the rules.” She pressed the shard against his throat a little harder, piercing his skin. Blood dribbled down his neck, but it didn’t seem to bother him.

  “Ay. I did, darlin’.” His voice took on a chilling undercurrent. “But, see, I’m always the winner.”

  “Sa—” Everett’s hoarse cry was cut short as the trash pile beside them exploded.

  Two more men stood in the scattered remains of the trash, and an unexpected jolt of electricity suddenly ripped across Sage’s entire body. She gasped in pain. Her grip on Dutch loosened for less than a second, but it was long enough for him to slip out of her grasp.

  Dutch was fast. The mirror shard clattered on the pavement as the back of Sage’s head bashed against the wall. She struggled to break free only to realize that Dutch and another man had her arms pinned against the bricks. Everett was fighting the third man on his own—and losing, from the sounds of it—and the banished men from the far end of the alley were closing in on them again.

  She tried to move, but the makeshift weapon was pressed against her own throat now. Dutch leaned closer, his rotten breath clinging to her cheeks as he gripped her chin between his fingers.