Adaptive: A Young Adult Dystopian Romance (The Elite Trials Book 2)

by Becky Moynihan

  I nodded, knowing she could see the movement despite not wearing goggles. Another reason why Sensors excelled at this competition. Debating the pros and cons, I wedged our team’s plans underneath my heavy black vest. The rolled-up paper crinkled against my shirt. If I was shot and eliminated while carrying the plans, the game would be over, but if I could predict the enemy’s moves before they made them, what safer place for the plans to be than on my person?

  My handheld buzzed. Decision time was over.

  Yukiko and several others jumped from their hiding spots, fanning out just as our captain had ordered. They each wore a red band tied around their left bicep so we’d know not to shoot them. Brendan’s team all wore yellow bands on their right arms. At least they were on opposite arms since night vision made all colors green. As soon as I made certain the area was clear, I turned the opposite direction, planning to lose myself in the depths of our territory.

  The playing field was so massive, I could literally get lost in it. Maybe if I did, no one could find me or the plans. Wishful thinking. If a Sensor didn’t sniff me out, an Intellect would decode our team strategy and report it to the ranks. The entire host would bear down on me. I spotted my decoy several paces to the right and breathed a bit easier. At least I wasn’t alone.

  My eyes landed on a two-story structure that hardly counted as a building—I could clearly see the inner skeleton of the thing. But the inside stairs looked intact and there was also a metal ladder on the outside that reached the rooftop. From up there, I’d have a great vantagepoint of my surroundings and more than one way of escape.

  A gunshot rang through the air and I instinctively ducked. The sound was farther away though, close to enemy territory. The battle had begun. After a quick moment’s hesitation, I peeled off my borrowed jacket and rubbed my cheek over the material. Maybe I should pee on it too, dowse it completely in my scent. The ludicrous thought would have made me laugh if I wasn’t so desperate for this to work.

  I propped the jacket against a trash can sitting just outside the building, then reattached the red team band to my thin thermal shirtsleeve. If I chose the ladder for my ascent, a Sensor might be able to pick up traces of my scent where I gripped the rungs. Inner stairs it was. I took them two at a time for good measure, noticing that the wind and rain couldn’t reach me here. Too bad I couldn’t linger.

  On the second floor, I made for the room I hoped had a window that would give me access to the outer ladder. When I found it, I itched to do a victory dance. But there was no time to waste. Sure enough, Yukiko’s voice crackled in my ear a second later. “Find anything?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Keep me posted.”

  “Copy that,” I responded, and she switched off our line.

  As I stuck my head through the gaping hole that passed for a window, more shots rang out. Closer this time. I grasped the ladder and tugged, making sure it was solid. Did anyone ever die in these competitions? A shiver slid up my spine. This had better be worth it. I swung onto the ladder and made for the rooftop. Within seconds, my shirt was soaked through. Now I was really shivering. At least the vest didn’t retain water.

  When I reached the top, a grin split my face. Perfect. There were several obstacles to duck behind in case someone came up here, giving me a greater chance of escape. Gunfire close by broke the silence and I flattened myself against the roof. Shouts followed, a yelp of pain. My heart beat an unsteady rhythm, partly from nerves, but mostly from anticipation.

  Brendan was right. I’m an adrenaline junkie.

  Carefully, I crawled toward the lip of the roof and peered over the edge. No movement below. I wanted to check all sides to be sure, but Yukiko was counting on me to find those enemy plans. So, going against every instinct, I trusted my decoy to have my back and squeezed my eyes shut.

  Focus on the plans. Where are the plans? I had never tried searching out an inanimate object until now. Was I capable of doing such a thing? Only one way to find out. I pictured the rolled-up shape, the waterproof bag they were sealed inside of. Focus. Focus. Open your mind. Open your . . .

  An invisible force yanked me forward and I flew off the roof at breakneck speed. Instead of splatting on the ground, I skimmed over it, hurtling past debris, a rusted car, another building, then stopped. In front of me was Brendan, sneaking along a crumbling brick wall. He paused and his eyes shot in my direction. Impossible. There was no way he could see me. And he wasn’t. He was looking through me, tilting his head as if listening to something.

  Then his nostrils flared and a wicked smile turned up his lips.

  Ah crap. He sensed me.

  I snapped back to my body so fast that when I found myself on the rooftop a second later, I loosed a sharp gasp. Double crap. Brendan was coming for me. What should I do? Contact Yukiko? Have her dash back to rescue me? No. Take him down. This is your chance.

  Movement from below erased my thoughts. I squinted, trying to make out facial features through the rain. Not Brendan. But they had a band on their right arm. An enemy, nonetheless. My heart thudded as I maneuvered my gun to poke over the roof’s edge. The enemy, who appeared to be male, was staring at the spot I’d dropped my borrowed jacket, completely oblivious to my position. As he came within shooting range, I hesitated, not wanting to give up my location—and the plan’s. Just as I was about to shoot anyway, another figure appeared behind the first, gun raised.

  Zip. Splat.

  The enemy cried out, whirling around, but it was too late. His vest lit up so bright, I had to look away. I recognized my decoy as the shooter and gave her a little salute, not sure if she could see me. She nodded, but a moment later dove into a forward roll and scrambled behind a trash can. Shots were fired as she aimed at a spot I couldn’t see. I crouched low and hurried to the other side of the roof only to arrive too late.

  My decoy grunted loudly as her vest was pelted numerous times. She doubled over, but I could still see her vest glow like a mini sun. Crap! Who had shot her? I worked on slowing my erratic breathing so I could better hear what was happening down there. Quietly, I returned to my old spot and peeked over the edge.

  No movement. There was nothing except an overturned garbage can.

  Wait, where was my jacket?

  “Looking for this?”

  At the deep voice directly behind me, I stifled a scream. Then threw myself into a roll. Zip. Zip. Shots splattered where I’d been a second before. I scrambled upright and blindly fired at the enemy, but didn’t stop to see who it was. I already knew. Shots followed me, nipping at my heels. I ducked behind a metal box just in time as a flurry of shots pelted its side.

  Run first. Shoot second.

  I had a terrible itch to disobey orders right then. But Brendan was an expert with a gun, and I was . . . I was crap at it. Ugh! When the shots eased up, I made a break for it, aiming for the ladder. Right before I reached the ledge, my leg buckled as a stab of pain tore at my calf. Stunned, I dropped my gun and it clattered onto the rooftop. But it didn’t stop there. Rain had made the cement slick and the weapon sailed off the roof with a faint whoosh.

  No!

  I didn’t have time to mourn the loss though. I was shot, but not in the vest. The game wasn’t over yet. I clambered down the ladder, daring to pause for a split second to see how close Brendan was. With a small shriek, I ducked as he shot for my head. My head. He was so dead. Instead of climbing all the way to the ground and probably getting peppered with gunfire on the way down, I slipped through the window again, shoes squeaking as I slid onto the second floor.

  As if demons were chasing me, I bolted through the room and into the hallway. If I could sneak through a first floor window, maybe I could outfox Brendan and find a new hiding spot. I would need to find a new gun though. I couldn’t go back and—Wham! I slammed into an obstruction that hadn’t been there before. I bounced back with a groan.

  Then glanced up. To find Brendan smirking at me. Crap, he was fast. I hadn’t even reached the stairs.

&
nbsp; First, he waved my gun in the air. Then my jacket. “I can’t tell if dropping stuff is part of your plan, or . . . ?” As he chuckled, I stayed rooted to the spot.

  I slowly crossed my arms over my vest, an action that he noted with amusement. I could feel the outline of our team’s plans still pressing against my stomach. I allowed a smile to form. “My plan is to take you down, so yes.”

  “And how are you going to do that?” he taunted, stepping toward me. “You’re weaponless.”

  Yukiko chose that moment to interrupt. I all but leapt out of my skin as her voice filled my ear. “Lune, Bren must have slipped past us. I can’t sense him in their territory. I think he’s heading your way. Have you found their—” I plucked out the communicator and pocketed it.

  Brendan raised his brows. “Not following orders again? You should have called for backup. You’re going to need—”

  I lunged for my gun still dangling from his fingertips. As soon as my hands wrapped around it, he pressed his gun to my chest and shot me point blank. Paint splattered my vest and neck before I could register the pain. My stomach lurched and I was once again standing before him, not a drop of paint on me. Vision or not, I couldn’t believe he had shot me. The knowledge made what I was going to do next that much easier.

  This time when I lunged, I changed my approach. With one hand, I grabbed for my gun. The other stopped Brendan before he could train his gun on me. Then, with a war cry, I brought my knee up into his groin. As his face twisted in agony, he curled forward and I struck again, clocking him upside the head with my gun that he was still holding. Then I bashed his hand against the hallway wall, forcing him to release the weapon.

  He grunted, stumbling back a step, and I snatched up my gun. When it was pointed at his chest, I said, “Drop your gun.” Instead of complying, he gaped like he’d never seen me before. So I shot him in the leg.

  A curse or two flew from his mouth as he reached for the injury.

  “I said drop it.” I aimed for his chest again. This time he did, letting the gun fall with a clatter. “Hands behind your head.”

  Grimacing in pain, he did as instructed. His eyes brightened in my night vision as he said, “Is this the part where you shoot me in the heart now?”

  Was that supposed to make me back down? Feel guilty? My nostrils flared as I stepped into his personal space and glared up at him. “No. This is the part where you see that I’m not weaponless. This is the part where you realize I don’t always need to be rescued. I can protect myself, I can save myself. I don’t need you to be my hero all the time. I just need you.”

  I placed my free hand over his heart and watched as his lips parted. He didn’t move as my hand slid down his vest, then quick as a snake, darted underneath and yanked out his team’s plans. The look on his face. Pure shock. I slowly grinned, whispering, “Now this is the part where you learn that I don’t take prisoners.”

  And then I shot him.

  My night vision burst into victorious light.

  “I can’t believe you kneed him in the stones,” Jaxon groaned, then threw his head back as he laughed. He held out a fist. I stared at it blankly. “It’s like a high-five. You’re supposed to—never mind. The moment is gone now.”

  “Do you think he got the message?” Yukiko asked, peeling off her vest. Her fingers remained steady as she rehung the heavy equipment in the small room used to prepare for competitions.

  My fingers trembled with cold as they attempted to unzip my vest for the second time. Taking off my waterproof jacket had been worth it, but I really needed to warm up, not chat about the person I’d just taken out my frustrations on. “I’m n-not sure. I was too busy stealing his plans and sh-shooting him to ask qu-questions.” Crap. I was going to get sick at this rate.

  “There’s a shower room right through that door if you wanna—”

  I didn’t wait for Yukiko to finish. “Th-thanks,” I stuttered, still wrestling with the vest as I forced my stiff limbs toward the door. When I entered, the room was empty, so I didn’t bother with decency. One of the showerheads spat to life as I cranked the handle to a near scalding temperature. I shucked off the vest and let it thump to the floor. My shoes and socks were next.

  I had my sopping shirt halfway over my head when the door squeaked open. Startled, I froze with my arms awkwardly in the air. The shirt blocked my view of the newcomer so I tugged it down around my neck.

  Air stuck in my throat at the sight of Brendan standing just inside the doorway. He was frozen too. Staring at me. Intensely. Then I remembered my state of undress. Apparently he did too because his eyes traveled south and landed on my bare midriff. His gaze inched higher, gliding over my black bra and exposed skin. A kernel of warmth bloomed in my stomach at his heated look.

  I slowly lowered the shirt and covered my nakedness. His eyes tracked the movement, then raised to mine. Breathing became a chore. The room filled with steam, either from the shower or from the tension building between us. Probably both. I waited for an explanation as to why he was here, but none came. He simply clenched and unclenched his hands, watching me like he was searching for something.

  The tension stretched taut and I struggled to hold still. My body, chilled to the bone, yearned to draw closer to his and soak up the heat it knew forever radiated from him. His nostrils flared, as if scenting my struggle. Then he was moving. Eating up the space between us. Cupping my jaw. Tilting my face up to his.

  My lips parted in surprise and he pressed his to them, inhaling deeply, breathing me in. I clutched at his shirtfront as a wave of feeling swept through me, threatening to buckle my knees. He curled an arm around me and we shuffled backward, back, back, until hot water was pouring over us and I was pressed against the shower wall.

  I gasped into his mouth as the planes of his body molded to mine, as pleasure streaked through me. Our lips, now warm and wet, crashed together messily. Perfectly. Like our relationship so often was. My hands slid up his chest and gripped his neck. He grasped my thighs and lifted me up. My legs squeezed his waist as he pressed me more firmly against the wall.

  A moan rolled up my throat when his fingers slipped under my shirt and warmed my sides. His thumbs brushed along my rib cage, sending my heart thundering.

  “I need you too,” he said shakily, placing a lingering kiss to the corner of my mouth. “So much. I don’t . . . I don’t want this to end.”

  My chest tightened at the open admission, at the vulnerability in his voice. The time for games was over. This moment was about truth, raw and painful. But real. Finally, I inwardly sighed. I slid my lips over his, once, then twice, until his body trembled against mine. “Then don’t push me away. Ever again.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise.” He exhaled, taking several breaths before hoarsely whispering, “I’m scared.”

  I ran my fingers through his damp hair, letting him feel the comfort I could give. “Of what?”

  “That I’ll destroy you.”

  “You won’t.”

  “You don’t know that. I’ve caused you so much pain already.”

  I tugged on his hair so he’d lean back. When he opened his eyes, I said, “You told me I was strong. So let me be strong. Don’t stop believing in me just when I’ve started to believe in myself.”

  He searched my face, saw my certainty, then blew out a sigh, folding me into a hug. “You’re stronger than me in the ways that matter most, Lune Avery.” I buried my nose in the crook of his neck, a smile pulling at my mouth. Maybe we were going to be okay after all.

  My handheld pinged a second after his did. We both ignored the sound, unwilling to let go of this fleeting moment of blissful peace. Brendan’s lips found mine again, gently nibbling, teasing, until I grabbed his face and crushed our mouths together.

  Ping.

  Ping.

  I felt him fumble for the handheld in his pants pocket. He swore softly as it clattered to the shower floor. I snickered, kissing his chin be
fore wiggling to be let down. Not that I wanted to—I could happily stay here forever with my two favorite things—but it wasn’t often that I received messages. Maybe Jaxon needed help picking out his outfit or something.

  When I saw the message, I frowned. The words were confusing, though I understood the first couple. “Report to . . . C-o-m-m—” My face flushed, not from the water, but from embarrassment.

  Brendan stroked a finger down one of my no doubt beet-red cheeks. “It’s okay, little bird. It’s not your fault.” My heart kind of melted and dribbled down the shower drain at that. He tipped the screen his way. “It says, ‘Report to Communications.’” He bent and picked up his handheld, showing me an identical message.

  I assumed he knew where that was since I’d never been there before. “Should we change first?”

  After a quick stop on the tenth floor for dry clothes, we rode the elevator to the top, bypassing Dr. Moore’s office. Brendan led me to a stretch of rooms similar to the ones Jaxon had when we’d visited the Conservatory. There were signs and handprint scanners next to the doors. Brendan paused in front of one and pressed his hand to the black screen. Huh. I guess he was important.

  Inside the Communications room was a vast network of technology unlike anything I’d seen before—not even the Ability Center had this much stuff. The space wasn’t that large, but the open floor plan made it seem so. Several rows of desks and screens stretched from wall to wall, and most of the chairs were occupied. The air was filled with the sounds of clicking keyboards and droning voices. What could they possibly be doing?

  I was distracted by a waving hand and caught sight of Jaxon. He really did have access to all the top secret places. Next to him stood Dr. Moore, Dr. Stacey, and, surprisingly, Dominic. “What do you think’s going on?” I whispered to Brendan as we approached.

  “Any number of things,” he whispered back, which didn’t help settle my nerves one bit. His knuckles brushed against mine, an attempt to reassure me. But if I were being allowed in here, something big must have happened.