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

by Ellery Kane

  “Quin!” I hear Elana before I see her. She ducks her head out of the control booth, panicked. “Come quick! She’s left the library.” I don’t show it, but I’m reeling a little. My plan worked better—faster—than I expected. And I realize, looking at Elana’s ghostly white face, I didn’t really think this through.

  Alexandra is walking with purpose, heading south on Market. A light rain is sprinkling the camera lens. “How long has she been gone?”

  “A few minutes.”

  “Where’s Max?”

  “Sleeping.” Elana lowers her head, covers her eyes. “What should we do?”

  “I’ll get Augustus.” I leave Artos in the control booth and sprint out toward his office, arguing with the voice in my head.

  It’s going to be fine. She’s going to be okay.

  Fine? Just like your mom—right, 243?

  I run smack dab into Augustus’ chest, leaving his white button-down slick with my sweat.

  “Is there a problem, Mr. McAllister?”

  Be cool, Quin. Be cool. “Alexandra Knightley has left the library.”

  Augustus seems pleased. “Has she? That’s an interesting turn of events.”

  Seriously? “How do you want us to proceed?”

  “You have your orders. You know what to do.”

  “But what about the Guardian Force? They’re going to see her. You know what they’re like. They’ll kidnap her, kill her, take the flash drive—”

  “Yes. We both know how ruthless the Guardian Force can be. Don’t you want to see what Victoria Knightley’s daughter is made of?”

  Flesh. Blood. Bone. She’s going to die. I know it. And it will be my fault. Ryker’s next victim. Just like I would have been if—“Is that what you did to me? Watched me until I proved something to you?”

  “Go back to the control booth, Quin.” I clench my fists and briefly consider smashing his face. But it seems unadvisable, unwinnable. Like picking a fight with God. “Unless you want to join her. Out there. Alone.”

  When I get back to the control booth, Elana is pacing. She points to the screen. Alexandra’s face is pressed to the glass of a shop window. “She’s been standing there forever.”

  “Augustus said we have to wait.” Elana shakes her head, then looks away. I can tell she’s fighting tears of frustration. Now’s not the time, but I can’t help myself. “I have to ask you something. Did you know I was coming here? Did Augustus have you and Max surveil me?”

  “What? Of course not. The control booth wasn’t even set up until just before you got here, and Cason was manning it most of the time. Wait, is that what Augustus told you?” I shrug, embarrassed. “I don’t get it, Quin. There’s something off about him, don’t you think?”

  I’m not sure how to answer. If there’s something off about Augustus, where does that leave me? “He’s just looking out for us. Looking out for the Resistance.” I don’t know if I believe it, but it makes me feel better when I say it out loud.

  “It doesn’t make any sense. I thought the whole point of all of this was the flash drive—that whatever is on it was for the Resistance. If the Guardian Force finds her first—”

  I hold up my hand to silence her. “I know.” Alexandra is running now. Back toward the library. It’s like a scene from a movie. One that doesn’t end well. A horror flick. She looks wild, completely unhinged. Beautiful.

  I hear myself gasp. A block behind her, just out of her sight, is a soldier.

  I’m a live wire, waiting to be tripped with my own ragged breath counting time in my head. Artos feels it too. He’s been whining constantly since we left. Since Augustus finally gave the go ahead and I hot-wired an old truck parked outside of headquarters. But this is no joy ride. I swallow hard. I can taste the bile in my mouth, as bitter as my regret. In my head, I’m on my way to that first rally, jostling in the back of a jeep with Ryker droning on at my side. “You’re made for this, Legacy 243. You’re a killing machine.” I think I might be sick. That’s what I told him then. With the library in sight, I slam the brakes and stop cold. Crack the door. Throw up. Keep driving.

  I leave the truck running just in case I have to make a fast getaway. I haven’t even gone inside yet, but I see it all. What I would’ve seen a lifetime ago if I hadn’t been such a coward. Sissy. Cry baby. The way she’ll be laying there with a knife—I mean bullet—in her chest, a blood blossom like a rose pinned to her shirt. It won’t look like what it is—a black hole, the end of everything—I know that now. But that won’t change the truth. My fault.

  My feet are moving, Artos tugging me along even though I don’t want to go. The door is heavier than I remember. Like the lid of a coffin. And that’s what this is—Alexandra Knightley’s tomb. Inside, it’s cold and dark, just like it should be. I take one step and then another, with Artos click-click-clicking behind me. The dread is a black worm in my heart, burrowing deep, growing fat, eating me from the inside out.

  And that’s when I see him. Him! Not Alexandra after all. A river of red flows from under his body. My relief washes in like a wave, but it brings something else with it. I let her get to me. I let her drag me right back there. This is not my fault. She shouldn’t have left the library. Stupid girl.

  “Where are you?” I’m practically growling at her. No surprise she doesn’t answer. “We don’t have much time. In case you didn’t notice, you killed a Guardian.” I guess my sarcasm doesn’t warrant a reply either. Unless … I start to get worried again. “Okay. It’s your choice. They’ll be here to arrest you any minute now, but I guess you can handle it.”

  “Who are you?” I’ve never heard her voice before, and it shakes me a little. It’s coming from the alcove. I start to answer. Who am I? Quin McAllister, foster kid nobody wants, screw-up, delinquent, hopeless case, wanted man. None of your business. “I’m here to help you. Right now, that’s all you need to know.”

  “I’m here,” she says, stepping out into the light. “I’m here.”

  “We’ve gotta go.” She’s staring at me. Like she knows me already. Like she’s been the one surveilling me. “Get your stuff.” I turn to the dead man, shake him down—blood sample for the lab, cell phone—just like Augustus instructed. If it’s safe, we’ll collect the body later for Dr. Bell’s examination. There’s something in his pocket. “Do you know what this is?” I ask, holding up the flash drive everybody’s so concerned about.

  “No.” Yeah, right. She’s already lying to me. “My mother gave it to me. I should keep it.”

  “Yes, you should keep it.” I walk to the door, hoping she’ll follow. Of course, she doesn’t. “Are you ready?” I hand her the flash drive as a peace offering.

  “Can you at least tell me your name?” I’d rather not. Once I say it, I can’t take it back. She’ll know what I’ve done. No doubt her mom’s told her all the gory details about her most infamous case. Inmate 243 and his spitting image. I roll my eyes and go for broke.

  “Quin McAllister.” She doesn’t flinch, but I wonder what she’s thinking. “And this is Artos.” He wags his tail at her like he’s already in love.

  “Alexandra,” she replies, “but everyone calls me Lex.”

  “Lex.” I like that. It suits her. Get it together, McAllister. “So you’re Lex, daughter of the great Dr. Knightley. I was expecting someone a bit more …” You’re exactly what I was expecting.

  She meets my stare. It’s unnerving. I feel completely exposed. “A bit more what?” She’s playing games with me, calling my bluff.

  “Let’s go,” I say. I have to get out of here. I open the door, and Artos trots out. At least he doesn’t question me.

  On the other hand, Lex does. “Where are we going?” Her voice sounds younger than she looks. She doesn’t like me. I can tell. But I trust her without knowing why.

  EPILOGUE

  Later that night

  It was a mistake to let Artos stay in her room. Now I’m the one who can’t sleep. I should have known she’d be nosy. After all, she is the
shrink’s daughter. But she tripped the switch with her incessant questions, and my mind won’t shut off. Here’s what I didn’t figure on—I want to answer them. She has a poetry book like mine. I asked about it. I wanted to pick it up, to flip the pages between my fingers, to turn to the dog-eared one I saw. But I didn’t. That would have been weird.

  First thing tomorrow morning, I’m going for a run—a long one. I’m going to run and run and run until I can’t think anymore. Not about anything, specifically Alexandra—I mean, Lex—Knightley. For tonight, I’m doomed to purgatory, replaying it all. A broken record. Every one of her pointed questions. All my not-so-artful dodging.

  “How did you know where to find me?” How do you think? We were watching you. But I just shrugged. I’ll let Max and Elana answer that one.

  “You’re a Guardian? Why did you become a Guardian?” Because they told me I’d be good at it—and I wanted to be good at something. Well that, and the worthless drunk, Eddie Van Sant. Him and his obnoxious father. They got me into this.

  “Difficult? Is that how you would describe it?” Difficult is an understatement. Wait—was she flirting with me?

  “What about your family?” Gone. Gone. Gone. When I said that word, I wished I was an iceman again, half-buried in a glacier.

  She was definitely flirting. I used to be good at it—a real ladies’ man to hear Van Sant tell it—so I know. What’s worse, I liked it. Especially her eyes, their twinkle. It makes me think of my makeshift window on Alcatraz, how it always let the light in. Geez, McAllister. Whatever it is, it won’t last long. Not after I screw up and show her who I really am. I hurt everyone I care about without even trying. No exceptions. Besides, she’s probably got a boyfriend already, maybe a preppy shrink-in-training. A college boy. I’ll bet her mom is crazy about him.

  I focus on the ceiling tiles. I count each one until I lose count. And I start again. I’m desperate for sleep, but I’m afraid I’ll have that dream. The new one with her staring at me. Right then, I make a promise to myself. I will not become my father. I flop onto my stomach, bury my face in the pillow, and pray for morning.