Champion: A Legend Novel

by Marie Lu

  I’m several dozen yards from the bottom. Soldiers are clambering up to seize me. I tense up, push myself up into a crouch, and quickly move sideways against the slanted base. I’m not going to make it.

  The instant this crosses my mind, the two final explosions go off under the airship.

  A huge roar above me shakes the earth, and when I glance behind me, I see an enormous fireball rise up from where the airship is docked with the top of the base. All along the naval base, orange flames burst from every single pyramid dock. They’ve gone off in unison. The result is absolutely jaw-dropping. Quickly I glance back to the soldiers who were chasing me—they’ve paused, shocked by what they’re witnessing. Another deafening burst of flame erupts above us and the tremors knock everyone off their feet. I struggle to stabilize myself against the slanted wall. Move, move, move! I stagger down the last few yards of the base’s wall and fall to my knees on the ground. The world spins. All I can hear are the shouts of soldiers and the roar of the infernos lighting up the naval bases.

  Hands grab me. I struggle, but I have no more strength left. Suddenly they drop me and I hear a familiar voice at my side. I turn in surprise. Who is this? Pascao. His name is Pascao.

  His bright gray eyes crinkle at me—he grabs my hand and urges me to run. “Nice to see you alive. Let’s keep it that way.”

  FROM THE BANK TOWER IN DOWNTOWN LA, I CAN SEE the giant plumes of orange flame lighting up the naval bases along the coast. The blasts are enormous, illuminating the edge of the sky with blinding light and echoing through the air, the force shaking the glass windows of the tower as I look on. Hospital staff mill around me in a scene of commotion. The lab teams are prepping both Tess and Eden for evacuation.

  A call comes in from Pascao. “I’ve got Day,” he shouts. “Meet us outside.”

  My knees turn weak with relief. He’s alive. He made it. I peek inside Tess’s room, where she’s being secured to a wheelchair, and give her a thumbs-up. She brightens, even in her weakened state. Outside the tower, I see the shadow engulfing our building begin to move—the Colonies airship hovering overhead is heading away from us to join into battle. As if our explosions have unsettled a nest of wasps, dozens of Colonies fighter jets are taking off from its deck as well as the decks of the distant, crippled airships, their shapes forming squadrons in the sky. Republic jets meet them in midair.

  Hurry, Antarctica. Please.

  I rush off the lab floor and down the stairs to the lobby of the Bank Tower. There’s chaos everywhere. Republic soldiers hurry past me in a blur of motion, while several gather at the front doors to prevent anyone else from getting inside. “This hospital is off limits!” one barks. “Bring the injured across the street—we are evacuating!” The screens lining the hall show scenes of Republic soldiers clashing with Colonies troops in the streets—and, to my surprise, Republic civilians wielding whatever weapons they can find and joining in to push the Colonies back. Fires burn along the roads. At the bottom of every screen in bold, menacing letters is the scrolling text: ALL REPUBLIC SOLDIERS TO BREAK SURRENDER. ALL REPUBLIC SOLDIERS TO BREAK SURRENDER. I cringe at the scene, even though this is exactly what we had planned for.

  Outside, the noise of battle deafens me. Fighter jets roar past us overhead, while others hover directly over the Bank Tower, prepared to defend the tallest building in LA if—when—the Colonies try to attack. I see similar formations over other prominent downtown buildings. “Come on, Day,” I mutter, scanning the streets nearby for signs of his bright hair, or of Pascao’s pale eyes. A deep tremor shakes the ground. Another ball of orange flame explodes behind several rows of buildings, then a pair of Colonies jets zoom by, followed closely by a Republic plane. The sound is so loud that I press both hands to my ears until they’ve passed.

  “June?” Pascao’s voice comes over my mike, but I can barely hear him. “We’re almost here. Where are you?”

  “In front of the Bank Tower,” I shout over the noise.

  “We’ve gotta evacuate,” he replies immediately. “Getting some feedback from our Hackers—the Colonies are aiming to attack the building within the hour—”

  As if on cue, a Colonies jet screams by, and an instant later, an enormous explosion goes off at the very top of the Bank Tower. Soldiers all around me let out shouts of warning as glass falls from the highest floors. I jump backward into the safety of the building’s entrance. Debris rains down in a thunderous storm, crushing jeeps and shattering into a million pieces.

  “June?” Pascao’s voice comes back on, clearly alarmed now. “June—are you okay?”

  “I’m fine!” I shout back. “I’ll help with evacuations once I see you. See you soon!” Then I hang up.

  Three minutes later, I finally spot Day and Pascao staggering toward the Bank Tower against the tide of civilians escaping the area and soldiers rushing to defend the streets. They stumble through the debris. I rush from the entrance toward Day, who’s leaning heavily against Pascao’s good shoulder.

  “Are either of you injured?” I ask.

  “I’m fine,” Pascao replies, nodding at Day. “Not sure about this guy. I think he’s more exhausted than anything.”

  I swing Day’s other arm around my shoulder. Pascao and I help him inside the lobby of a building several blocks from the Bank Tower, where we still have a direct view of the tower and the chaotic, debris-filled square that sits between the two buildings. Inside, rows of injured soldiers are already camped out, with medics running frantically between them. “We’re clearing out the tower,” I explain as we gently help Day down to the ground. He grimaces in pain, even though I can’t find any specific wounds on him. “Don’t worry,” I reassure him when he glances up at me in alarm. “Eden and Tess are being evacuated right now.”

  “And so should you,” he adds. “The fight’s just beginning.”

  “If I tell you to stop worrying, will you?”

  My reply gets a wry smile from him. “Are the Antarcticans coming to help us?” Day asks. “Did you tell Anden about the cure—”

  “Calm down,” I interrupt him, then stand up and put a hand on Pascao’s shoulder. “Watch out for him. I’m going back to the tower to help with the evacuations. I’ll tell them to bring his brother here.” Pascao nods quickly, and I cast one last glance toward Day before running out of the building.

  A stream of people is making its way out of the tower, with Republic soldiers flanking them on either side. Some are on crutches or in wheelchairs, while others are strapped to gurneys and being wheeled out by a team of medics. Republic soldiers bark orders at them, their guns hoisted and their bodies tense. I hurry past them and toward the entrance, then push my way inside to the stairs. I hop up the steps two at a time until I finally reach the lab floor, where the door’s propped open and a nurse is directing people toward the elevator.

  I reach the nurse and grab her arm. She turns to look at me, startled. “Princeps-Elect,” she manages to blurt out, hastily bowing her head. “What are you—”

  “Eden Bataar Wing,” I say breathlessly. “Is he ready to go yet?”

  “Day’s brother?” she replies. “Yes—yes, he’s in his room. We’re preparing to move him comfortably. He still needs to be in a wheelchair, but—”

  “And Tess? The girl who was under quarantine?”

  “She’s already on her way downstairs—”

  I don’t wait for the nurse to finish before rushing into the main lab room and toward the corridor. At the very end, I see a pair of doctors wheeling Eden out. He looks like he’s unconscious, resting on a small pillow propped between his head and the chair’s back, his forehead damp with sweat.

  I give the doctors instructions on where to take him as we all hurry together toward the elevator. “You’ll see Day there. Keep him with his brother.”

  Another explosion rips through the building, forcing half of us to our knees. Some of the medics scream. Dust rains down from the ceiling, making my eyes water—I unbutton my coat, then shrug out of it an
d throw it across Eden to shield him. “No elevator,” I gasp out, heading toward the stairs instead. “Can we carry him down?”

  One of the nurses gingerly picks Eden up and holds him tight in her arms. We hurry down the stairs as more dust showers us and muffled sounds of shouts, guns, and explosions echo from outside.

  We rush out into a lengthening evening lit completely by the fire of battle. Still no call from Anden. My eyes sweep the roofs as we pause underneath the entrance, other evacuees streaming around us and between Republic guards. One of the guards recognizes me and hurries over, throwing a quick salute before he speaks. “Princeps-Elect!” he shouts. “Get to the adjacent shelter, as quick as you can—we’ll send a jeep to take you to the Elector.”

  I shake my head right away. “No. I’m staying here.” A spark from the roofs makes me look up, and instantly we all cringe when a bullet hits the overhang in front of the main entrance. There are Colonies gunmen on the roofs. Several of the Republic soldiers point their guns and open fire. The guard who had spoken to me puts a hand on my shoulder. “Then move out,” he yells, gesturing wildly for us.

  The nurse holding Eden takes several steps forward, her eyes still fixed in terror on the rooftops. I put a hand out to stop her. “Not yet,” I say. “Stay here a moment.” Not two seconds after the words leave my mouth, I see a bullet hit one of the evacuees—blood sprays, and instantly the people around him flee, screams reverberating in the air. My heart pounds as I scan the roofs again. One of the Republic soldiers finally catches a gunman, and I see somebody in a Colonies uniform fall from the top of a nearby building. I look away before the body hits the ground, but I’m still struck by a violent wave of nausea. How do we get Eden to safety?

  “Stay here,” I command the nurse holding Eden. Then I tap four of the Republic soldiers. “Cover me. I’m heading up there.” I gesture for one of the guards to hand me the gun at his belt, and he passes it over without hesitation.

  I move into the crowds and make my way toward the buildings. I try to imitate the effortless grace that Day and Pascao have in this urban jungle. As the chaotic evacuations continue and soldiers from both sides face off against one another, I hurry into the shadows of a narrow, nearby alley and start making my way up the side of the building. I’m small, dressed in dark clothes, and alone. They won’t expect me to head up here. My mind runs through all of my sharpshooting lessons. If I can throw them off, it’ll give the evacuees that much more of a chance to make it out in one piece. Even as I think this, another Colonies jet zooms overhead and a huge plume of bright red flame erupts on the Bank Tower. A Republic jet tails close behind it, firing as it goes—as I look on, it manages to hit the Colonies plane and ignite one of its engines, sending it careening wildly to one side and leaving a trail of dark smoke behind it. A deafening roar follows; it must have crashed several blocks down. I look back up at the burning tower. We don’t have much time. This building is going to come down. I grit my teeth and make my way up as fast as I can. If only I were as good a Runner as Day and Pascao.

  I finally reach the top floor’s ledge. From here, I get a good view of the battle zone below me. The Bank Tower is under siege from the sky and the ground, where hundreds of Republic troops are pushing back in the streets against a steady tide of enemy soldiers. Patients and medics alike still stream from the tower and down the street toward the makeshift shelter, along with government officials from the higher floors, many of them covered completely in white dust and blood. I peer over the top ledge.

  No gunmen here. I pull myself up onto the roof, careful to stay in the shadows. My hand grips the gun so tightly that I can barely feel my fingers. I scan the roofs in the danger zone leading up to the shelter, until finally I see several Colonies soldiers crouched on top of the neighboring buildings, taking aim at the Republic troops heading up the evacuation. I make my way silently toward them.

  I take the first one down quickly, aiming at him from behind as I peer over the building’s top ledge. It’s as if I can feel Metias guiding my gun, making sure I hit him somewhere that isn’t fatal. As he collapses with a muffled shriek that’s lost in all the chaos, I rush over and grab his gun, then fling it over the side of the roof. Then I hit him in the face hard enough to knock him out. My eyes settle on the next soldier. I press one hand against my earpiece and click my mike on.

  “Tell the nurse to keep waiting,” I hiss urgently at the guard by the Bank Tower. “I’ll send a signal when it’s—”

  I never get a chance to finish my sentence. An explosion throws me down flat onto the roof. When I open my eyes and look down, the entire street is completely covered in ash and dust. Dust bombs? Through the veil of smoke and dirt, evacuees are running in panic toward the shelter and breaking through the lines of Republic soldiers flanking them, completely ignoring their shouts. The Colonies gunmen have visors on. They must be able to see through all this smoke. They fire down at the crowds, scattering them in all directions. I look frantically toward the tower. Where’s Eden? I hurry to my next target, taking him down in the same way as the last. Another gunman down. I lock on to my third target, then spit out a curse as I realize that my gun has just run out of bullets.

  I’m about to make my way off the roof when something bright glints from a rooftop. I freeze in my tracks.

  Not far from me on a higher building, Commander Jameson crouches on a roof. A chill shakes me from head to toe when I see that she has a gun in her hand. No. No.

  She’s picking off Republic soldiers, one bullet at a time. Then, my heart stops as she catches sight of something that piques her interest. She takes aim at a new target on the ground. My eyes follow the line of her gun. And that’s when I see a boy with bright blond hair pushing his way against the stream of the crowd and toward the Bank Tower.

  She’s aiming at Day.

  TESS GETS EVACUATED FIRST—I SEE HER LIMP FORM BEING carried in the arms of a nurse as they exit the Bank Tower. I take her from the nurse’s arms as soon as they reach ground level, then carry her alongside the stream of other evacuees. She seems only half conscious, unaware of my presence, her head lolling to one side. Halfway to the shelter, I slow down. Damn, I’m so exhausted and in so much pain.

  Pascao takes Tess from my arms. He hoists her up to his chest. On the roofs, sparks fly—signs of gunfire. “Get back to the Bank Tower entrance,” he yells at me before turning his back. “I’ll get her over!” And then he’s off before I can argue.

  I watch them go for a while, unwilling to look away until I’m sure Tess is safely across the square. When they reach the shelter, I turn my attention back to the tower. Eden should be down by now. I crane my neck, squinting through the crowds for a head of blond curls. Has June come back downstairs yet? I don’t see her in the panicking masses either and her absence sends a jolt of worry through me.

  Then, an explosion. I’m thrown to the ground.

  Dust. A dust bomb, I manage to think through the pounding in my head. At first I can’t see anything through all the smoke—there’s chaos everywhere, sparks flying, and the occasional muffled sound of gunfire; through the floating white dust, I see a blur of people running toward the safety of the Republic barricades, their legs moving as if in slow motion, their mouths open in silent shouts. I shake my head wearily. My own limbs feel like they’re dragging through the mud, and the back of my head throbs, threatening to drown me in pain. I blink against it, trying to keep my senses straight. Desperately I call out again for Eden, but I can’t even hear my own voice. If I can’t hear it, how can he?

  The people thin out for a moment.

  And then I see him. It’s Eden. He’s unconscious in the arms of a terrified Republic nurse, one who seems to be stumbling blindly through the dust, headed in the wrong direction—straight toward the Colonies troops lining the left side of the square, opposite of where the shelter is. I don’t stop to think or shout at him, I don’t hesitate or wait for a good interval in the gunfire. I just start running toward him.

&nbs
p; COMMANDER JAMESON’S GOING TO SHOOT HIM—THE direction she’s aiming her gun is unmistakable.

  Day’s sprinting through the dust that blankets the street. Day, what are you doing? He stumbles in his dash, and even from the roofs I can tell that he’s struggling to make his body move, that every last inch of him is screaming from exhaustion. He’s going to push himself too far. I glance in the direction he’s going, searching out what has drawn his attention.

  Eden. Of course. The nurse holding Eden trips and falls in the midst of all the billowing smoke, and when she gets up, fear gets the best of her because she just starts running away. Fury rises up inside me. Left behind is Eden, slowly stirring and completely vulnerable in the open street, blind, separated from the group, and coughing uncontrollably from the smoke.

  I jump to my feet. With the way Day’s running opposite of everyone else, he’ll soon be in an area where he’s an open target.

  My hand flies to my waist—and then I remember that my own gun is out of bullets. I sprint back across the rooftop toward my last target, where I hadn’t yet dropped his gun off the roof. When I glance toward Commander Jameson again, I see her tense and aim. No. No! She fires a shot.

  The bullet misses Day by a couple of feet. He stumbles in his rush, throwing an arm briefly over his head out of instinct, but picks himself up and continues doggedly on. My heart thuds frantically against my chest. Faster. I take a flying leap from one roof to the next. Down below, I see Day nearing Eden. Then he’s there, he’s reached him, he’s skidding to a halt next to Eden and throwing his arms protectively around his little brother. The dust around them makes them hard to focus on, as if they’re both ghosts in faded colors. My breath comes in shallow gasps as I draw closer to the fallen soldiers. I hope the dust is throwing Commander Jameson’s aim off.