The Legacy Series Boxed Set (Legacy, Prophecy, Revelation, and AWOL)

by Ellery Kane

  As we drove back, I couldn’t take my eyes off Quin. He stared straight ahead as if I wasn’t there.

  A few blocks from my house, I reached to touch his arm, but stopped myself. I turned the radio on—the one remaining station owned by SFTV played a continuous loop of oldies from the 2020s— hoping to drown out my continuous replay of our almost interlude. It was useless. The only thing I heard was my own voice. I should have kissed him.

  Without a word, Quin suddenly veered down a side street, jolting me back into the present.

  “Police,” Quin warned, screeching the car to a stop in the middle of the block. “We have to get out.”

  I jumped out quickly, my heart racing. Quin was a few steps behind. His eyes looked panicked.

  The city police rarely patrolled our neighborhood. With crime rampant elsewhere, the jails were overcrowded and understaffed. Traffic stops were not a priority, and I hadn’t seen a police car since our return, but there was no mistaking the screaming siren.

  “In here.” I pulled Quin inside a fenced yard. The house was abandoned, its windows obscured by weeds taller than us. The thick overgrowth scratched at my arms.

  Pressed together in a clearing near the fence, we peered out through the slatted boards, both of us breathing hard. The police car passed without stopping, without even slowing down, completely oblivious to our stolen vehicle.

  I looked at Quin, trying not to laugh.

  He shrugged, smiling at himself. “What can I say? Old habits die hard, I guess.”

  “We should probably walk back anyway, just to be safe,” I said, extricating myself from the weeds and opening the gate.

  On our way back, I found myself telling Quin all about my conversation with my father. It felt good to confide in someone, but not just someone—him.

  When we reached the cul-de-sac, I stopped. “Quin, about earlier, I—”

  “It’s okay, Lex. I get it. You don’t have to explain. You don’t owe me anything.”

  He walked inside before I could finish, before I could give a voice to my feelings. I should have kissed you.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  THE PLAN

  ONE WEEK LATER, MY MOTHER’S telephone dinged.

  “Carrie,” she said, her eyes widening. Her voice was charged with nervous excitement.

  The text was intended to be cryptic. “Project at 80%.”

  My mother and I looked at each other for a moment, dumbfounded, before we called out to the others. The drug was close to completion.

  Quin, Edison, and Elana rushed into the room, hearing the urgency in our voices.

  “We need to talk more about this,” my mother said, pointing to the map. “Carrie has almost wrapped things up.”

  The room seemed to collectively hold its breath. My mother looked to Quin expectantly.

  Speaking with authority, he addressed the group. “If Carrie finishes by the end of this week, then we can plan for next Monday. Like we talked about, it’s probably best for us to use darkness to our advantage. We can hide our boat here.” Quin traced an X on the map with his finger. “At night, they reduce security at the lab.” Quin pointed. “I used to do that watch myself, and if we time it right, we can get in and out without being noticed. Max, Edison, and I can easily disable the guards, if necessary.”

  Quin smirked in Edison’s direction. “Well, at least it will be easy for Max and me,” he added.

  Edison rolled his eyes.

  Quin continued, directing his words to my mother. “Then, Elana and Edison can lead you and Carrie to the distribution point.”

  My mother nodded. “What about the … demolition?” she asked, clearly uncomfortable in admitting that we were planning to blow up the laboratory along with all the research the Guardian Force had relied upon to perfect their program.

  Quin replied, “Carrie will bring the explosives from the armory at headquarters. Once we’re inside and the drugs have been swapped, we’ll set the charge to explode the lab shortly after the meeting begins. That way, we’ll minimize the casualties from the Guardian Force.”

  My mother insisted we harm as few recruits and members of the Guardian Force as possible. She contended that they were being victimized as well—their vulnerabilities exploited—but more than that, I think my mother felt guilty about the damage already done. Though in some ways I agreed, I thought that she was being naïve. After all, given what Carrie had discovered about some of the permanent brain damage caused by Agitor and Onyx, we didn’t really know how, or if, the Guardians would react to Resilire.

  Elana’s face was puzzled. “What happens after that? Ryker will be furious, and we can’t predict how the Guardian Force will respond even if their emotions are no longer altered.” I was glad I wasn’t the only one who was concerned.

  “That’s where the video comes in,” my mother explained. “The Guardian Force will have some special entertainment during their meeting that I hope will open their eyes to the ugly side of their recruitment and expose Ryker for the tyrant he is.”

  Quin furrowed his brow in concern. “Dr. Knightley, I respect what you’re trying to accomplish with the video, but I think what Elana is saying is that even without the drugs, not all of the Guardian Force will react the way you’re hoping. I’ve heard you say that people … that emotions … are unpredictable, and you’re right.”

  I waited for my mother to react. She wasn’t accustomed to others questioning her judgment.

  Surprisingly, she nodded. “Quin, you’re absolutely correct. I can’t be certain what will happen. That’s why I asked Carrie to involve Dr. Bell. Early Monday morning, once the plan is underway, Dr. Bell will inform Admiral Bennington of General Ryker’s multitude of crimes— executing rejected Guardian Force recruits and proceeding with this program despite documented evidence of its volatility. The Resistance headquarters has all the data to support these claims.”

  “Why not just contact him now, Mom? Let the military deal with Ryker.” I was annoyed. Not only was my mother’s plan unnecessarily dangerous, but Quin had assigned everyone else a role. My name was noticeably absent.

  Both Quin and my mother shook their heads. Quin addressed me. “Lex, if we don’t destroy the Guardian Force research, the government will build it again, bigger and better this time. There’s always going to be another Ryker waiting in the wings.”

  “Fine.” I knew he was right. “Then, what about me?” I asked, gesturing toward the map, not bothering to disguise my irritation.

  Quin’s jaw stiffened slightly. He took several long, deep breaths, and I watched the tension fade from his face. “Lex, you said yourself that it’s risky.” His voice was calm and measured, but he avoided my eyes. “You’re not trained for this.”

  My aggravation gnawed at me. Quin clearly considered me useless.

  Trying to keep the peace, my mother interrupted, “Quin, Lex is right. We’ll need her.”

  Quin nodded, but I could see he was troubled. “Then she can go with you,” he conceded.

  As I left the room after the meeting, I saw that Quin lingered behind. I assumed he was planning to talk to my mother, probably to tell her how untrained I was. I waited outside the door, listening.

  My mother spoke first. “I know you’re worried about her. But she’s tough, like me. She’ll be fine.” I smiled at her words.

  When Quin didn’t respond, I cautiously peeked around the corner. He was sitting at the kitchen table, his head down in his hands. My mother stood behind him, patting his shoulder. He lifted his head, and I quickly skirted out of sight.

  “If anything happened to her… ” Quin didn’t finish his sentence.

  I wanted so badly to hear his next words, but he kept them contained somewhere inside himself.

  “I know,” my mother said empathically. “I love her too, Quin.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

  A SETUP

  THAT AFTERNOON, MY MOTHER CALLED me into the living room. She had a curious smile on her face.

  �
�Would you mind doing me a favor?” she asked. “I promised Quin that he could read our poem, the one we like. I thought he might enjoy it. Could you bring the book down to him?” She gestured toward the lab.

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  Quin was sitting at the table, reading, when I walked in. I hadn’t been alone with him in a few days. Recalling their conversation after the meeting, I immediately suspected that my mother had planned this.

  He looked up, startled. “Hey,” he said, cautiously. “I didn’t see you there.”

  I walked over and sat next to him. Casually, he scooted his stool away from me. It was probably unintentional, and I knew I was being silly, but it hurt.

  “More recommended reading,” I joked, handing Quin the poetry book. His lips curled slightly in a smile, and he nodded.

  “You know, I didn’t mean that you couldn’t handle it,” Quin said, referring to the meeting. “I know you’re more than capable.”

  I didn’t know how to respond without admitting my eavesdropping, so I changed the subject. “What are you reading now?”

  “It’s my dad’s file,” he said. “Your mom gave it to me last week. Did you know she went to see him again a few years ago?”

  “No,” I said, trying to disguise the perturbation in my voice. I vaguely remembered my mother taking a trip a few years ago to L.A. for a psychiatric conference. She must have made a secret stop at Dellencourt.

  He gestured to the file in his hand. “I guess my dad has his own book. It’s almost as sad and pathetic as mine. It’s weird, but I never thought of him as a person before. I always saw him as a monster, but he had a really hard life.”

  I looked at Quin with interest, hoping he would continue. Just being with him, I felt lighter.

  “His father was really strict, like over the top. When my dad misbehaved, he would make him stand for hours in the corner. He told my dad that he was worthless. And, of course, my dad saw a lot of violence between his parents. No surprise there.”

  “Does it help to know about your father’s past?” I felt I already knew the answer. My mother’s revelations about herself made it easier to let go of her mistakes.

  Quin nodded. “I can’t say I forgive him. I’m not sure that I ever will. The past is a hard thing to shake.” He gestured toward his electronic file, the Book of Quin, sitting on the table next to him. “But I hate him a lot less now. Your mom told me that when she went to see him, she realized that she might’ve been wrong about him. She said he’d changed a lot, and he asked about me … if she knew anything about me.”

  “It’s funny how someone’s past can make you see that person differently,” I said, thinking of something my mother had told me. She said people were like icebergs, showing only a tiny tip of themselves to the world. If you took the time to look beneath the surface, you would really see the vastness of everything else—dark, cold, and hidden—and understand.

  Quin added, “I guess I’m seeing myself a little differently too.”

  As we talked, I could sense there had been a change in Quin. It was subtle, like a slight redirection of the wind. Whatever had been balled inside him so tightly was slowly coming unwound.

  “So … tomorrow’s my birthday,” Quin announced, his voice small and boyish. “Number twenty.”

  “Quin! Why didn’t you remind me?” With everything that had happened, I had completely forgotten it was already June.

  “It’s not really that important,” he said. “I usually just try to ignore it and hope it will go away.” He laughed.

  “Well, that’s completely unacceptable, Mr. McAllister,” I frowned at him. “I have an idea, but it’s going to require you to be alone with me. I’m not sure if you can handle that.” I was definitely flirting, testing the waters.

  “I think I can force myself to get through it,” he joked. His eyes were playful, and I was encouraged.

  “Okay.” I tried to make my voice sound nonchalant as if I wasn’t completely beside myself with excitement. “Then meet me tomorrow night, after lights out, and bring this.” I gestured to the Book of Quin.

  He nodded, grinning. “Alright … sounds mysterious.”

  “By the way, I’m proud of you,” I said. “Everything that you’ve been doing … it’s really brave.”

  His face reddened, and he shrugged. “I figured it was time. I know I messed things up with you, but maybe one day, I’ll get it right.”

  His voice sounded resigned, but I thought I saw a question lingering in his eyes. He continued, “I still have a long way to go, but I want to love someone. I’m starting to think that I could actually be good at it.”

  Imagining Quin loving someone else froze my heart, iced it over. I could feel it give way, cracking inside me.

  “What if I don’t want you to love anybody else?” I asked.

  Before Quin could answer, I stood, taking a step toward the stool where he was sitting. He was leaning back casually against the table. I positioned myself between his knees, carefully placing one hand on each. I hadn’t touched Quin in weeks. It was intoxicating.

  Kiss him. Heart and mind spoke together, finally synchronized.

  I waited for him to move away, but he didn’t. I imagined him counting in his mind as I would have—one thousand one, one thousand two. Before he got to three, I leaned in and kissed him along his jaw, letting my lips mark the space between his chin and his ear. He sighed softly, and I smiled to myself. I was better at this than I thought. Then I gently kissed him on the lips, once. I felt his body tense. Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around my hips, locking me in close to him.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Why?”

  “Because now I just want to do it again.” Quin’s eyes were intense, but his lips hinted at a smile.

  I grinned, slowly extricating myself from his arms before he could follow through with his threat. “That’s kind of the point,” I said.

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  BEST BIRTHDAY EVER

  “WHERE ARE WE GOING?” QUIN asked, his voice light and energized. In his arm, he carried his file, as I had asked him to.

  “You’re not allowed to ask any questions,” I teased. “Just trust me.”

  “Okay,” he agreed.

  Even though it was June, the night air was crisp, a slight breeze tickling my skin. Quin was wearing his leather jacket, and I had on one of my favorite sweatshirts, stretching its arms to cover my hands.

  We walked to the marina, a little less than a mile from my house. The moon was just a sliver, and it was so dark I couldn’t tell where the sky ended and the ocean began. I could hear the water lapping gently against the pier. There were several boats docked there. Most had been abandoned; one had been left unlocked. Before I had left for San Francisco, I liked to climb inside it and pretend I was on a houseboat in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

  “So we’re here,” I announced to Quin.

  “And what exactly are we doing here?” Quin volleyed back at me.

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about your file … the Book of Quin.” I made air-quotes with my fingers. “Yesterday, you were saying that the past is hard to shake, but I don’t think the past is holding on to you. I think that it’s you who needs to let go.” I gestured to the tablet in his hand.

  “What do you mean?”

  “My mother once told me that holding on to the past is like walking around with a pebble in your shoe. You can still keep walking, keep moving forward, but that pebble is always there nagging at you, begging for your attention. After a while, that pebble is all you can feel. Sometimes, you just have to stop walking for a minute and get rid of it once and for all.”

  “So this is my pebble, huh?” Quin said, smiling.

  I nodded. “I think it’s time to let it go.”

  Quin’s face was pensive, considering my words. “I can’t believe that I’m saying this, but I think you’re right. Every time I read this thing it brings me right back there.” H
e shook his head, dismayed by his realization. “So what do you propose, Ms. Knightley?”

  I pointed out into the vastness of the ocean. “The perfect place for a pebble,” I said.

  Quin took a breath. “Here goes,” he announced.

  With a running start, he launched the Book of Quin high into the air. I couldn’t see it, but I heard it fall with a splash. I imagined it sinking slowly to the bottom, burying itself in the sand.

  Quin was laughing, his face lit with a wide grin. “That felt good,” he admitted.

  His laughter was infectious, and I giggled. “Maybe twenty won’t be so bad after all,” I said, still looking out at the dark waves. “Happy birthday, Quin.”

  As I finished speaking, there he was, standing in front of me. His eyes were an invitation, but he didn’t wait for me to accept. Before I knew it, Quin was kissing me. Aside from our brief moment in the lab the day prior, it had been so long. It was like before, but different, better. Saying nothing, I took Quin’s hand and began leading him.

  “Where are you taking me?” he asked playfully.

  “You’ll see,” I replied, squeezing his hand tightly.

  I led him to the boat, my pretend houseboat. Inside the cabin, it was darker than I had expected. I set my flashlight in the sink, face up, casting a small circle of light around us. The instant I slid the cabin door shut, Quin pushed me against it, kissing me with urgency. His hands were alive again in my hair, under my shirt, conveying everything unsaid between us.

  “Wow.” Quin whispered, his kisses softening, becoming tender. “I missed you.” He ran his fingers through my hair, smoothing it back.

  “I missed you too,” I said. “Obviously.” I pulled him toward the cabin’s small pullout bed.

  “Did you know this would happen?” he asked, his voice equal parts confusion and awe.

  I smirked. “I thought it was in the realm of possibility.” Then I confessed, “I hoped it would.”