“Morgan,” my father prompts gently, and she lifts her tear-streaked face. “It’s time,” he murmurs, and she exhales deeply, closing her eyes and taking a minute to compose herself. Then, infinitely slowly, as if she may not be able to go through with it, she takes a fistful of soil and gets to her feet. Moving towards the edge of the pit, she stares down into it, swaying on the spot as her emotions overcome her once more. I take a step forward, worried she may fall, but Archer takes her by the elbow and holds her steady. Suddenly, she opens her hands and a gust of wind sweeps most of the dirt away, but a few dark specks land on the white blanket below. Stifling a sob, Morgan turns and buries her face in Archer’s shoulder as the rest of us each take up our own handful of dirt.
When it is done, Reed and Jethro step forward with shovels and fill in the hole, covering up the body of the sweetest boy I have ever known.
chapter 32
“How is she?” I ask Archer the second he comes through the boardroom door.
“She’s sleeping,” he replies. “She cried herself out. I didn’t think she’d ever stop.”
I look at him sympathetically, knowing the toll Morgan’s heartbreak is taking on him.
“We’re all here, then?” the General barks, stern as ever. No doubt trying to eradicate from our minds the uncontrollable, sobbing mess he presented at the funeral this morning.
I get wearily to my feet. “It won’t be long before Kenneth finds us. Cumming is only thirty miles from here and he’ll put two and two together soon, if he hasn’t already. He knows we have family in Georgia,” I nod at my dad and Reed.
“So, what do we do?”
“Exactly what we planned. We lead them here, to the Academy. And then we annihilate them.”
“You still plan on going after Kenneth?” the General asks.
“Now more than ever.”
“Good . . . good.” He clasps his hands in front of him. “Now, as to the fortification of this site – how do you plan on beating a NUSA army that will no doubt ridiculously outnumber us?”
“We’re going to booby trap the whole facility.”
“We’re going to what?” He looks alarmed.
“Gabe Hunter is in town. He was moved down there with the rest of our civilians. I want him brought back immediately.” Gabe is a ballistics expert. His best friend Marcus was killed in an accidental explosion when we destroyed the NUSA lab in Chicago. “And Crackerjack,” I add. Aidan’s head pops up at the mention of his friend. “Crackerjack is highly intelligent,” I offer by way of explanation. “I want his opinion. He’ll soon spot any holes in our plans.”
“So, we’re going to rig explosives?” The General gets straight back to the topic.
“Yes. And Archer will also be stationed high to take out any stragglers. By the time they figure out we’ve booby trapped the area, hopefully the damage will be done. It should reduce their numbers significantly and give us a fighting chance.”
“Lydia will join me,” Archer states.
“Really?” My startled surprise is genuine. “What does Jupiter have to say about that?”
Jupiter’s policy of neutrality is unwavering. I can’t imagine he’d be pleased that his own sister is willing to fight for the Legion.
“I have no idea,” Archer shrugs, unconcerned, and I make a mental note to speak to Lydia myself.
Gabe returns to the Academy before the afternoon is out.
“How are you?” I ask, sincerely. I have the utmost respect for Gabe, and I know he has never quite recovered from the loss of his oldest friend. He and Marcus had grown up together and without Marcus Gabe had been trying to find his place in our community.
“All good, thanks,” he smiles. Then, getting down to business, “You want to tell me what I’m doing here?”
I explain about my idea of setting traps around the grounds.
“I assume you want maximum damage? With no concern to the facility itself?”
“If NUSA defeats us here, this facility will be worthless anyway. I would rather we destroy it than they do.”
“Give me a day or two and I’ll see what I can come up with. I’ll need to stay on site,” he adds.
“Absolutely. I’ll show you to your room.”
I am on my way back from the barracks when I hear my name called.
“Rebecca!” Steeling myself, I turn around to face an incandescent and yet oddly composed Jupiter.
“Yes?”
“How dare you? After everything I have done for you, how could you involve my sister in this ridiculous war?”
“Okay. Firstly, Jupiter, this war is anything but ridiculous. Secondly, I didn’t involve Lydia. Today was the first I heard of it. And as far as I can gather, she volunteered.”
“Well, I forbid it.”
“Okay,” I shrug. “That’s fine.” My casual agreement deflates him slightly.
“So, you’ll tell her? That she’s not allowed to participate in any fighting?” The word drips out of his mouth disdainfully.
“No,” I scoff. “You tell her that.”
“It needs to come from you.”
“You honestly expect me to tell a grown woman that she’s not allowed to join my army?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll tell you what,” I concede, trying not to laugh, “I’ll mention to Lydia that I don’t think it’s a good idea. How’s that?”
“You know, there is nothing stopping me from taking my equipment from this place right now and going back to the States,” he threatens.
“Give the guards at the fences my regards,” I retort, calling his bluff. We both know that he cannot go anywhere.
Thanks to Jupiter’s equipment, we have already successfully Gifted more than two thirds of our volunteers. Combined with Fiona’s large group, Kwan has far too many soldiers to train, and has intimated that he needs assistance. I have my sights set on Morgan who was trained by Kwan and could certainly use the distraction, but I don’t say anything just yet. I would like to talk to her first.
I barely sleep that night. Michael’s death haunts me, and I replay everything that happened over and over in my mind trying to figure out if there was anything we could have done to prevent it.
Grateful for the first light of dawn, I get dressed and make my way to the dining hall, bleary eyed and yawning widely.
“Catching flies, Tiny?”
“Bite me.”
After breakfast we have a massive group training session in the auditorium. Much to my embarrassment, Kwan has taken to using Reed, Aidan and me for demonstration, and I try to avoid looking at the packed seats as I oblige one request after another.
Fiona and her soldiers are a formidable force. They work in such harmony, in perfect unison, seeming to anticipate one another’s movements. They take their training far more seriously than Heath’s group who are the jokers in our pack. I wonder if it’s because, like us, Fiona’s group has a score to settle. Heath, Oliver, Matt and Rory left the States of their own accord, whereas Fiona’s soldiers were banished. Their exit was not voluntary, and they are angry. Even so, they fight with their heads and not their hearts – able to rise above their emotional ire and focus on the task at hand. Kwan watches them intently, almost enviously, a thoughtful expression on his face, and I know that he is trying to figure out how to bring out the same fluid movements and synchronisation in our own soldiers.
Aidan is improving by the day, tackling his training with the same focus and steadfast determination he showed as a headstrong boy.
When Kwan finally allows me to sit, I head down the stairs and take a seat beside Heath. Matt and Rory are sitting on his other side. These three men, together with Quinn and Kwan, will be my companions when we make our way back to NUSA on our mission to eliminate Kenneth Williams. My original plan included Michael, but he no longer needs to be kept safe. Fiona and
five of her own will also accompany us, while the balance of her men will stay behind to protect our fortress.
“Matt, why don’t you go up there and challenge them?” I tease, gesturing at the stage where Aidan and Reed are sparring. Despite Aidan’s best efforts and vast improvement, Reed is pinning him, although not as easily as before.
“You must be mad,” he laughs. “I’m not taking on the Power of Three.”
“Heath tells us that Kwan is setting up an obstacle course on the outer field?” Rory asks.
“So I hear,” I shrug. “It should be ready tomorrow.”
“I’m going to be sick tomorrow,” Matt quips and I laugh for the first time since Michael’s death.
Straight after training I cross the grounds to one of the old storage facilities located as far from the main building as possible. Premature detonation is a hazard of attempting to create any improvised explosive. I find Gabe and Crackerjack seated at a table, sorting through a mountain of nails, broken glass and other junk.
“So, I take it we’re going with shrapnel this time around?” I ask, picking up a rusted nail and examining it before tossing it back on the pile. When we blew up the NUSA lab, we had decided against loading the pipe bombs with shrapnel in order to contain the damage to the lab itself and avoid injuring any innocent personnel.
“Maximum damage . . . your words,” Gabe replies.
“So, do we have a concrete plan yet?”
“There’s no problem setting up explosives around the perimeter,” Gabe explains, “but we need to know where the targets will be in order for the detonations to have any impact. The grounds are too vast – there’s no point rigging anything if the NUSA soldiers are too far away.”
“We need to use bait,” Crackerjack offers.
“Bait?”
“Yes – we need to herd them – force them to go where we want them to.”
“There’s nothing NUSA wants as badly as me,” I point out. It’s true, I am the perfect bait. I am their primary target.
“Don’t you need to be heading for the States by the time NUSA arrives here?”
“I’ll have some time. A convoy that size isn’t going to make it back before I do. I can lead them in, and then I’ll slip away when the fighting starts.”
“Are you going to be able to do that?” Gabe asks, but he doesn’t mean it in the literal sense. My reputation for never abandoning my friends when they are in trouble precedes me.
“I’ll have to. Now, where is the best place to rig the explosives?”
Crackerjack points out that the best way to draw NUSA in is to lead them right through the front gates. We have Lake Lanier at our back – the water acting as a natural barrier – but there are still far too many places along the perimeter where NUSA could access the Academy.
“Bring them right in the front door,” Gabe nods thoughtfully. “It could work.”
“You’re okay to prepare the bombs?” I ask. To my knowledge Gabe hasn’t handled any explosives since that disastrous night in Chicago.
“I’ll be fine,” he smiles as though he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “Crackerjack’s going to help me.”
“You’ll need more hands, even if just for the preparation work, and certainly for concealing the bombs outside. There’s a lot of physical labour involved – you can’t do it all. I’ll send over a few people to help. How do you plan on detonating?”
“Fuses. Not ideal, but it’s all we have. What I wouldn’t give for a remote detonator.”
“I might be able to help you with that,” Crackerjack interrupts, and I recall that Crackerjack is something of a whizz-kid with electronics.
“I’ll leave you to it.” I wave and close the door firmly behind me, relieved that all the civilians are safe in town.
Checking around to make sure no one is watching, I make my way towards the main gates. There is something else I need to do, away from prying eyes.
chapter 33
I am back in time for dinner and I immediately call on David and a few of his friends to assist Gabe and Crackerjack. They promise to head over to the workshop as soon as they have finished eating. Spotting Morgan alone a few tables away, I use the opportunity to speak to her. She looks terrible, her eyes are red and puffy and her hair is a dirty knotted mass of curls.
“Morgan, you should eat something.” I take a seat opposite her, eyeing her untouched plate. She picks a small piece of potato from her plate and chews it slowly. I hate seeing her like this. I never thought I would miss the sassy, pig-headed version.
“You want to talk?” I ask warily. To my surprise, she takes a deep breath and leans forward in her chair.
“Actually, yeah, I do.” There is an infinitesimal pause and then the words pour out of her, each running into the last. “I made a mistake. I was wrong – I thought you . . . I didn’t trust that you had our best interests at heart. I knew my father was a liar, but I convinced myself that he wouldn’t let us come to any harm. You,” she stops, clenching her jaw in an effort to keep back the tears, “you protected us with your life in that cemetery.”
“I didn’t protect Michael,” I correct sadly.
“You tried. You’ve always looked out for us. I just didn’t see it before – I was too busy hating you, I guess.” She shrugs. “NUSA . . . my father . . . they’re the real monsters.”
“Morgan, your father didn’t expect you or your brother to come to any harm.”
“Don’t defend him, Rebecca. He’s not worth it. None of us are worth it. The only good to come out of the Kelly family are gone. My mother . . . and now Michael . . .”
“No,” my voice is louder now, “you are a good person, Morgan. You’ve always been a good person. You made a mistake, believe me, I get that. But all you wanted was to protect your brother. Don’t let the guilt eat at you, it’ll change you into something you’re not. Trust me, I know. You have to let it go.”
“How?” she gulps, the desperation in her voice impossible to ignore. “How do I do that? My brother is dead.”
“Well, firstly, let us help you. Let your friends comfort you. We’re your family now, Morgan.” I catch Archer’s eye across the room and note the pained expression on his face. “You have people here who love you. If you just open yourself up to that, it can change everything.”
She follows the direction of my gaze and gives a watery smile.
“He’s been so kind, but I’m not sure I will ever feel the same way.”
“Well, that answers a question I’ve been dying to ask you,” I grin and, to my delight, she looks amused. Then her face falls again.
“I don’t want to fight any more.”
I expected this and I let her off the hook kindly. “You don’t have to. When the time comes, you will go into town with the others.”
“Thank you,” she sounds relieved. “I just feel so lost. What do I do now . . . to keep my mind off everything?”
“Actually, I’ve been wanting to ask a favour of you. Kwan is struggling to keep up with the training. The lab is producing more soldiers than we ever dreamed possible, and our soldiers need mentors.”
“What good will I do? I don’t know the first thing about training soldiers.”
“Morgan, don’t underestimate yourself. You’re the youngest member of the Legion, yes, but you’ve already fought more battles than most of our men, and you’ve had team leader experience.”
“I thought you felt it was a mistake that I was a raid leader?” she remarks drily.
“That was my mistake,” I admit. “So, will you help him? Kwan really needs you.”
“That was Michael’s job,” she smiles dejectedly, but I can see she has made up her mind to do it.
“And now it’s yours.” I get to my feet, offering a hovering Archer my chair.
“Norman tells me you went into town yesterday?” Reed
mentions as we make our way down to the field for Kwan’s new obstacle programme.
“I went to see Alex,” I reply automatically. “I didn’t see Norman,” I add, frowning. Had Norman seen me? I had been so sure that I had managed to escape detection in town.
“Well, he saw you,” he confirms, and then glances at me suspiciously. “There something you want to tell me, Sexy Bex?”
“We’re back to that now, are we?” I roll my eyes and try to change the subject.
“Avoiding the topic?”
“No. Oh, my God.” I don’t need to feign surprise as I gaze out over the previously empty field. It has been completely transformed – high wooden walls, rope climbs and criss-crossing beams pepper the yellowing grass.
“What the hell is that supposed to be?” Reed points to a savage looking mass of barbed wire, underneath which is what looks like a pool of mud.
“I have no idea, but I’m guessing we go under it.” I cringe at the thought.
“This is a joke, right,” Reed adds as Jethro draws up beside us, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I doubt it. Kwan’s been working on this for days. The way he talks about it, you’d swear it was his first-born child.”
The entire population of the Academy has shown up to watch. I’m hardly surprised – we have very little entertainment out in the Rebeldom, and this looks to be as good a show as any.
I spot Kwan laughing with Aidan and my father, and then he moves quietly to the edge of the field, an expression of fierce pride blazing across his face. Reed, Jethro and I make our way towards him, as do most of the soldiers who will be participating in today’s events.
“I’m splitting you into teams,” Kwan calls, and the crowd falls silent. “The first exercise is to make it around the track. Whichever teams wins, wins,” he adds simply. “Team One: Rebecca, Quinn, Heath, Matt and Rory.” It makes perfect sense that he would pair me with the team I have selected for our attack on Kenneth. Fiona and her five men will no doubt be on a different team. “Team two,” Kwan continues, “Reed, Jethro, Archer, Morgan and Aidan.”
The Legend Page 23
