“I don’t know what I’m like any more. It feels like my whole life is this war. Like there’s nothing else. Like I’m not even me, any more – not really. I’m the leader of the Legion; the one who is supposed to fix everything. It defines me.”
“No, it doesn’t. You know that’s not true. You have so much other than this war. You have Alex,” he points out and automatically I smile, just hearing Alex’s name. “You have your dad, and Kwan, and your friends.” I nod again. “You have Aidan,” he speaks without resentment and I press my lips together to keep from asking, but he senses the question. “And yes,” he admits, “you have me.” I swallow down a lump in my throat. “And, of course, you most certainly have Michael Kelly’s vote.” He breaks the tension. “The kid chose you over his entire family.”
“I feel like I’ve failed him. Failed her. I should have seen this coming – I know Morgan, I know how impulsive and reckless she can be. I should have fixed things between us. If she hadn’t been so angry at me, she would never have gone to see her father.”
“Maybe,” he admits. “But you have to accept that you can’t always get everything right. Making mistakes is part of being human.” I settle back onto the bed, propping my pillows behind me.
“Tell me about Jupiter,” I ask him.
“He suffers from short man syndrome?”
I laugh out loud at that. “No, about the original version. You mentioned he was God of the Sky?”
“Ah,” he smiles knowingly, shifting so that his back is against the drywall and getting comfortable. Reed had once told me the story about the constellation of stars that included the Big Dipper. It had been the first moment that I had seen the sensitive side that was hidden beneath his intrepid exterior, the first time I had felt something for him other than irritation. As he tells me the story of Jupiter, his low, familiar drawl soothes me and my eyes grow heavy. I don’t know the exact moment I fall asleep, or whether I imagine it, but in the vague recesses of my mind I feel the whisper of his lips across my cheek before I fall into a fitful sleep plagued by nightmares of the people I love being hunted.
I wake to find a familiar tanned arm slung casually across my stomach. Typical, I think to myself. I should have known he would fall asleep here, with me. We were both exhausted last night and I had been the one who asked him to stay longer to tell me the story of Jupiter. I ease my body out from under his arm and quietly leave the room. I have no idea what time it is – being underground there is no way to judge even whether or not the sun is up.
“Morning,” Jethro calls as, after numerous wrong turns, I finally find my way to what serves as the main kitchen. Jethro is sitting on one of the vast stainless steel counters, eating a piece of dry toast.
“You don’t want anything on that?” I ask, amused.
“Couldn’t be bothered looking. It took me about fifteen minutes just to find the bread, it’s over there,” he points to a far cupboard and I retrieve the bread, popping two slices in the toaster. “Was he there?” Jethro blurts out as I rummage around the cupboards. “My brother, Mason . . . was he there at the Kellys’ house?”
“No.” I wave a jar of peanut butter at him triumphantly and pull a knife from a drawer. “I’m sorry for what I said about him. I didn’t mean it to sound so harsh. He’s still your brother; I shouldn’t have dropped the bomb on you like that.”
“Thank you,” he accepts my apology and gives me a small smile. “I always knew he had it in him. I hero-worshipped Mason growing up, but he had a vindictive streak in him. I’m sorry for what he did to you.”
“You don’t need to apologise for him. You’re a good man.” I pause as something occurs to me. “What will you do if you come face to face with him now?” This could pose a potential problem if Jethro hesitates at a time when one of our own’s life is on the line.
“I try not to think about it,” he admits. “I understand that he’s a target. If he’s Kenneth’s right hand then the chances are that he will need to be removed from the equation to get to the VP.” We all still refer to Kenneth by his previous title, none of us will acknowledge him as President. “I’ve come to terms with that. I only hope I’m not there to witness it. I’d rather be fighting nameless adversaries.”
“Gotcha,” I hand him a slice of toast smeared with peanut butter.
By the time Reed saunters in, yawning widely, I have had two cups of coffee and am more than ready to get going. Jupiter seems to be a late riser and I fight the urge to track him down and pull him out of bed. I’m more worried than I want to let on that Morgan will betray us. Michael may believe she never would, but he underestimates how angry Morgan is with me and while she may not know the exact location of the lab, she certainly knows we will exit the States through the Missouri border. After what feels like hours, Jupiter emerges, strolling into the kitchen in another tailored suit, his dark hair slicked back into a low greasy ponytail. He looks like he has spent the morning at a grooming parlour.
“You’re wearing that?” Reed asks, choking on an ill-concealed snort of laughter.
“What would you have me wear?” Jupiter asks pleasantly. “Some of your second-hand knock-offs?”
Reed is unfazed by the barb and he winks at me across the table. Reed is still infinitely more attractive, even in his faded jeans and T-shirt, and he knows it.
“Get everyone ready and waiting outside,” I instruct, trying not to smile back.
“We’re going in that?” My jaw drops at the sight of the enormous eighteen-wheeler tractor-trailer truck that emerges from the depths of SubTropolis and out onto the street.
“You didn’t expect me to fit my lab equipment in a Chevy Spark, did you?” he points out wryly, and Lydia emits a peal of laughter.
I gather that Lydia and Jupiter are a couple, judging from the affection between the two, and Lydia is accompanying us back to base, as are Patrick, Randall and Sam, who form Jupiter’s private security detail.
“You wanna go with them?” Reed asks coolly and I grin.
“As if you’d really let me.” I slap his shoulder as I move past him and head for the black Subaru 4x4 parked behind the big rig. As I pass, I gape up at what I thought was a standard forty-foot container. Curious, I leap up onto one of the tyres and grab the window frame closest to me. Peering inside, I can’t believe my eyes. The back section must contain the lab equipment, but the front section has been converted into luxurious sleeping quarters. Jupiter must like to travel in style. At the far end are crates filled with foodstuffs and I can only assume that there is plenty of fuel on board.
“You have vehicles outside the fences, I presume?” Jupiter asks as he approaches me and I nod, jumping back down onto the road surface.
“Then we won’t be needing any further transportation.” He starts to wave the Subaru away. “Your people can travel with us until we reach your cars.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to take the 4x4,” I interject. “Two of my men have another mission when we get clear of the States. They’ll be separating from the group and we could use the extra wheels.”
Reed and Jethro will be going to Kentucky to try to make contact with the exiled NUSA soldiers that Richard Carlisle had spoken of. I was against their going alone and wanted to accompany them but even I can’t ignore the fact that getting the laboratory equipment back to our base is too important. There is a small rebel camp in Kentucky, complete with vehicles and fuel which they will use to ensure they can bring everyone back with them.
“As you wish,” Jupiter replies, unconcerned.
Even the lure of the massive truck does not snap Michael from his melancholy, and he opts to travel in the Subaru with me, as does Kwan. Chase, Archer and Jethro climb into the converted container, but Reed clambers up into the cab itself. No doubt he has convinced Patrick to give him a turn at the wheel until we reach the Humvee.
chapter 20
We
travel to the fences in an intimidating convoy, but my heart is in my throat. I have never approached with so little care for the guards at the fences, and despite Jupiter’s assurances the hair on my scalp is prickling in anticipation of a problem. When we come to a stop in a cloud of dust and the screeching of the semi’s airbrakes, Sam leaps nimbly to the ground, a wad of notes in his hand. He approaches one of the guards, turning his head left and right. He seems to be looking for someone. I gnaw my lip, drumming impatiently on the dash. The guard that Sam is speaking to is shaking his head and his eyes narrow as he peers up at the truck.
“Something is wrong,” I murmur.
I watch as Jupiter gets out of the container, straightening his suit collar as he descends the steps leading down to the ground. He glides towards Sam who turns as he approaches, and the expression on the black man’s face confirms all my fears. Reed, still in the semi, has sensed it too and the small group of men at the fence all turn to stare as the roar of the great engine reaches them. I know what Reed is going to do before he does it, and I pull out beside him as he rams the gas and tears through the boundary fence as though it were paper. Jupiter gives a cry of outrage and I skid to a halt beside him. Kwan already has the back door open.
“Get in!” I yell, as the guards around the fence surge forward. “Now!”
Kwan grabs Jupiter’s arm and hauls him into the back seat, Sam right behind him. The guard they were speaking to is so distracted by the semi that he barely notices. Michael’s body is rigid with tension beside me, and I slam on the gas before the back door is even closed. The tyres screech in protest as smoke billows up behind us, and then the Subaru surges forward, careening after the semi.
“Don’t stop!” Michael yells, as two of the NUSA guards step daringly into our path.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” I reply, driving straight at them. At the last moment, they dive out of the way and the 4x4 lurches violently over a fallen post before we cross the State Line.
“What the hell have you done?” Jupiter is gibbering with rage.
“I thought you paid them enough to get us through!” I snap, approaching the truck in front of us so quickly that I almost nudge it. At the back of my mind I worry that Morgan has warned them after all.
“I do! Something must have happened.”
“No. We happened.” I glance in the rear-view mirror and see Kwan shaking his head. “We came through this section of the fence. In fact, we’ve been targeting the Missouri fences since the day you woke up,” he reminds me and I loudly curse my own foolishness. Of course our violent entrance would have been reported to Kenneth Williams. We killed a fair number of soldiers on our way in – most of whom were no doubt on Jupiter’s payroll. Their replacements would not be so tolerant of Jupiter’s comings and goings.
“Do you mean to tell me I can’t get back in?” Jupiter asks after Kwan has relayed the story. His voice is incredulous.
“I’ll get you back in,” I promise, reflecting that I might not have to make good on that promise if we are caught. NUSA will be after us, and an eighteen-wheeler is going to be a hell of a lot harder to hide than our usual means of transport. There is no time for Jupiter to argue as the truck slows and comes to a stop outside the storage shed. I leave the engine running and join Reed and Jethro as they leap down from the semi and streak inside.
“Close call,” Reed drawls, unfazed as ever as he opens the driver’s door of the Humvee. Jethro is already in the car, waiting to go.
“I can’t believe I was so stupid.” Out of the corner of my eye I see Archer leap from the trailer of the semi. He joins us a moment later.
“None of us thought about it, Tiny. Besides, we had a lot going on.” His face darkens as the subject dances dangerously close to Morgan’s betrayal. “You’d better get going,” he adds. “We’ll see if we can make contact with the exiled group and convince them to come back with us.”
“I doubt they’ll argue,” Archer interrupts. “It’s hardly as if they’ll have anywhere else to go.”
“It’s more than that,” I point out. “They’ll effectively think we’re asking them to switch sides. Make it clear that they don’t have to fight – offer them a place in town at the least.”
Reed nods his understanding. “You’d better step on it,” he says, not bothering to hide his concern. “Get out of here as fast as you can.”
“We’ll drive straight through,” I promise.
“It’s over five hundred miles.”
“We’ll take turns. Archer, I need you to stay with Chase and the others. We’re going home.” I watch as he turns back in the direction of the truck and climbs up into the passenger seat beside Patrick. Jupiter wordlessly gets into the container with Sam, joining Lydia, Randall and Chase.
“Be safe,” I beg, giving Reed and Jethro one last look, and then I race back towards the Subaru.
The truck pulls out behind me, Patrick at the wheel, and a moment later I spot the Humvee emerge from the shed and turn in the opposite direction.
We are only a mile from the fence and it is imperative that we use the small lead we have. Kwan is poring over the maps on the back seat and he guides me on a new route, one that NUSA wouldn’t expect us to take. Our only advantage is that we know the Rebeldom better than they do. Soldiers who have lived within the States for most of their lives fear the barren lands and will proceed far more cautiously.
Only after an hour of non-stop weaving through long-forgotten streets do I feel safe enough to pull over to the shoulder and check on everybody in the truck. To my surprise, Jupiter is cradling a terrified Sam against his chest, his sloe-eyes hard. I have to admire his composure. I’m pretty sure he is regretting his decision to help us, but there is not much he can do about it now.
“Are you all okay?” I ask.
“What do you think?” Jupiter snarls. So much for his composure.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect any of this.”
“Sorry doesn’t change anything,” he replies coldly and I sigh, hoping that this won’t complicate matters.
“Just try to get some rest. We’ve still got a long way to go.”
The journey is arduous and fraught with tension. Too often, we have to backtrack because the semi is not able to navigate the rough terrain. Kwan and I take turns driving, but neither of us sleeps. We are too wound up, and one of us needs to navigate. Patrick and Randall are in a similar position – taking turns at the wheel of the big rig. I feel a pang of envy towards Jupiter’s group gathered in the container; no doubt they are sleeping by now. Michael is sprawled across the back seat of the Subaru, having traded places with Kwan when we stopped at the shed.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” I ask, turning to watch him.
“Sleep is the best thing for him right now,” Kwan replies, making a left turn and eyeing the rear-view mirror to make sure the semi is still following.
“What are we going to do about Morgan?”
“There is nothing we can do.”
“What if they hurt her?” I press. “Torture her, like they did me?”
“I’ve been thinking about that too,” he admits, “although thankfully it hasn’t occurred to Michael yet. But I don’t think they will, at least not for now,” he adds. “They’re trying too hard to convince her that you are the bad guy, that NUSA’s slate is clean. It would be foolish for them to treat her harshly, unless they are absolutely certain she will not give you up. I think we have some time.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“We forget that Morgan is no longer a child. She made a choice and, sadly, she will have to live with the consequences.”
“You don’t think I pushed her away?”
To my surprise, he chuckles. “I think you give yourself far too much credit. The two of you have never had an easy relationship, but over and over you have proved that you care for them both. Deep dow
n, she knows that.” He echoes Reed’s sentiments. “Her actions now have nothing to do with you – not really. She’s looking for a scapegoat, and you fit the bill perfectly. Morgan is incredibly strong and intrinsically brave, but every angel has their demons. Kenneth is playing on her greatest weakness – her fear for her brother’s safety.”
“And yet here he is,” I gesture at the back seat. “And she’s stuck within the borders, not knowing what’s become of him.”
“I said she was brave,” he replies wryly. “I didn’t say she was smart.”
We finally lumber into the Academy grounds in the early hours of the following morning. I don’t think I have ever been so tired, and my eyes feel grainy from lack of sleep. Despite the hour, it is not long before my father comes hurrying towards us, a tired, relieved smile stretching across his crumpled face. After a brief recap of our journey, he shoves me gently in the direction of the barracks.
“Go,” he insists. “I’ll deal with this – you go and get some sleep. You look terrible,” he adds, but the concern in his smile softens the words. For once, I do not argue. Nodding gratefully, I make my way to my room and crash.
Over the next few days the Academy is a hive of activity. My father and Jupiter waste no time in setting up the lab, with the General constantly barking instructions. My father, in desperation, eventually delegates the General to recruiting volunteers. I no longer have any desire to force our people into conscription. In fact, I am horrified that I had ever considered it. I cringe as I notice just how many men are prepared to risk their lives undergoing the procedures. Heath and Oliver, the NUSA Gifted soldiers we met in Corning, follow the General’s every move. Having served in the NUSA army, I can only assume that they feel comfortable reporting to another military figure. The General and I have always had a somewhat stormy relationship, but I have come to learn that he is as determined as I am to stop Kenneth, although his methods are more extreme. He is prepared to do whatever it takes, and we need someone like him to make the tough calls.
The Legend Page 14
