Legion Lost (9 page)

“There’s
five of you now,” she observes. “That’s good. This would have been tricky with
only three.”

“Whatcha
got for us, Doc?” Apryl asks eagerly. “Do we get to go outside and play?”

“If
you want to call it that,” Sheila answers coolly.

She
focuses on the map, her fingers moving over the small screen in order to change
our view on the bigger one. I recognise the overhead picture of the Legion at
once, my eyes roving over its straight walls and circular towers. All around
the Legion, the map displays the arid, reddish land that Reece and I traversed,
with the dense forest emerging to its left. Where the forest spreads upward to
the top of the map, a series of small, yellow
X
marks have been made on
the screen. Sheila points to them one by one.

“These
markings indicate where our helicopters have spotted a rebel presence in the
northern woods,” she explains. “We control the area of woodland to the south of
this river here, but the strangers in the north are getting a little too close
for comfort.”

“The
Highlanders are coming,” Stirling says suddenly.

I
don’t know why, but everyone else in the room seems to be trapped in an awkward
silence by his words. I turn to Stirling, surprised to see his expression has
become grave and serious.

“Sorry
. . . ” I mumble. “The Highlanders . . . they’re
bad, right?”

“Of
course they are,” Sheila snaps, apparently offended. “Unless you’d like a band
of bloodthirsty rebels to come and murder you in your bed, Raja?”

“Not
particularly, no,” I say, feeling my cheeks blush red.

“So
this is a reconnaissance task?” Stirling asks, cutting in to save me from
Sheila’s glare. The lanky boy walks up to the big screen, surveying the map as
he rubs his chin. “We could go in through the forest in the west and move up,
give ourselves better cover.”

“No,”
says Sheila without a moment’s pause. “If I wanted a squad to do that, I’d be
letting Briggs send a
real
task force out, not you sorry lot.”

“What’s
de problem with de west woods?” Goddie asks.

Sheila
bristles at the question. “They’re closed off for sweeping,” she answers.

“Why?”
Stirling pushes. “Have you lost something there?”

Yes,
they have. Me. They’re still searching the woods near the river for the runaway
Underground girl. I can see the secrecy in Sheila’s eyes, even as she claps her
hands together sharply.

“Enough,”
she demands. “No more questions. You’ll cross the north wasteland in the usual
way and enter the tree line from there. I want a record of any signs of rebel
settlements, surveillance cameras, or weaponry that might be in place there.”

Sheila
stands as tall as Stirling, the two redheads staring each other down.

“You
have your orders, Captain,” she tells him. “Organise your squad. You head out
on my signal, when darkness falls.”

The
white-coated woman begins to walk away. Stirling watches her every step, right up
until she reaches the Bastion’s doorway.

“What
if we meet any Highlanders whilst we’re out there?” he asks loudly.

Sheila
fixes him with her most emotionless stare.

“Same
rules as always, Captain,” she replies. “Shoot to kill. No questions asked.”

Once
Sheila is gone, I can’t hold my thoughts in any longer.

“So
we’re still soldiers?” I ask, my eyes roving over the four new faces in my
life. “I thought the rejects were supposed to be unfit to serve the Legion?”

“We
are,” Apryl answers, “but that doesn’t stop them from loading us up with their
dirty work.”

Stirling
walks to where I’m sitting, crouching down to meet my eyes.

“Whenever
the Legion wants information from a location that’s dangerous or remote, it
doesn’t like to send its best forces, in case they don’t come back. It’s part
of our duty to undertake these missions when they arise. As soon as there’s a
job on, I become your squad captain, since I’m the oldest of the group.”

“Oh
God…”

I
look to Lucrece, who is staring fearfully at Stirling. Even her bruises are
turning pale. Her hands tremble as she raises a finger to point at him, Goddie,
and Apryl in turn.

“That’s
why there are only three of you,” she sobs. “The others . . . The
Legion doesn’t care if you live or die. There have been more of you, maybe lots
more, but you’re the only ones left alive!”

I
glance back to Stirling, searching for something in his face that will tell me
such a grim truth is not the case. It can’t be right, to simply send the weakest
of the Legion’s youth to die in order to preserve the stronger ones. Lucrece is
smart, though, and her fearful face shows all the realisations that have gone
through her head whilst I’ve been studying the map and thinking only of myself.
The weakest of the rejects die in missions, just like the one we’re about to
embark on. Stirling’s face may as well be made of stone as he stares Lucrece
down. His voice is devoid of humour as he quips:

“Welcome
to the expendables.”

The
young captain says nothing more, yanking himself up to jog to the back of the
Bastion’s wide hall. I can see him clattering around in a series of metal
cupboards, pulling out various items and piling them on the floor where he
stands. Lucrece sits with her head in her hands, and it is Apryl who approaches
her with the kindest of smiles.

“You’re
a smart girl, honey,” she soothes. “Play to your strengths out there. That’s
what we do, and we’re all still live ‘n’ kickin’.”

“We’re
not selfish either,” Goddie adds. “Not like dem in de Legion. Don’t cry,
Lucrece. We’ll protect ya. Protect ya with our lives.”

Lucrece’s
tears make her purple skin glisten. I can see how terrified she is, and I’ll be
lying if I don’t admit that being an expendable body for the Legion frightens
me too. But it looks like being a reject does mean that I’m going to get
outside of the Legion’s walls more often than I’d thought. Once I find out
where my family has been taken, escaping the System’s clutches won’t be as
difficult as I thought. I’ve just got to stay alive until I know where I need
to escape to.

As
Apryl and Goddie continue to calm Lucrece, I rise from my seat and join
Stirling at the supply cupboards. He’s unearthed a variety of electrical
equipment and a pile of protective vests and helmets. I look down at the complex
machinery by his feet, then back to the determined boy who’s organising us all.
Stirling pauses, his eyes studying my face again with curiosity.

“I
want to know how all this stuff works,” I tell him. “You’ve been here seven
years, so I reckon you know a thing or two about survival.”

I
can see that annoying cockiness returning to his smile as he picks up a padded
black vest, guiding it over my head. Stirling puts one on too, and I copy his
actions to learn how to fasten it tight against my body. He nods at me with wry
approval, clapping a proud hand on my arm.

“That’s
the smartest thing I’ve ever heard from a newbie’s mouth,” he says. “You’re
going to get through this Raja, I can tell.”

Despite
all the things that I instantly dislike about Stirling, I hope that he’s right
about me. I return to the others with the rest of the protective gear and help
Lucrece get into her vest and helmet. She looks slightly calmer than she did
before, but I’m starting to wonder if her pathetic display in training was all
some sort of plan. Her battered frame is enough to tell me that she’s
physically weak, but it might be the case that her sharp mind spotted the South
Tower as a place of potential safety. She didn’t want to fight, she wanted to
hide here, like me. Now that her bubble is burst, Lucrece looks just as
terrified as she did covered in mud at Briggs’s feet.

“You’ll
do okay,” I tell her. “You’ll be all in black and it’s going to be dark out
there. If things get bad, just hide until we come to find you.”

She
doesn’t seem convinced by my attempt to reassure her.

“You’ve
never seen a Highlander, have you?” she asks.

I
shake my head. “I guess you could say I’ve lived a quiet life up until now.”

Lucrece
looks up over my shoulder for one wary moment before she continues.

“That’s
why you didn’t ask about Stirling,” she surmises. “I wanted to ask him, but I
was too afraid.”

Stirling
had expected a question earlier, but I was too oblivious to ask it.

“What
should I have asked?” I say.

“About
his accent,” Lucrece replies.

“What
about it?”

His
parlance is foreign to me, but I quite like the sound of his unusual voice.

“It’s
Highland,” Lucrece urges in a whisper. “Stirling comes from the Highlands, or
at least he did before he joined the Legion years ago. You can’t hide an accent
as strong as that. Everyone must recognise it when he talks. Well, everyone except
you.”

So
this is the reason that the smart, strong Stirling heads up the rejects.
Commander Briggs must have been hoping and waiting, all these years, for
Stirling to die in the Legion’s dangerous missions. Now, he’s only a month away
from entering the System as a free man.

“It’s
just so suspicious,” Lucrece continues. “I mean, what’s a child of the rebels
doing serving in the Legion?”

I
turn to look at Stirling again, watching him fasten his helmet to hide his
bright shock of hair. I don’t know what a fellow enemy of the System is doing
here, but now I’m suddenly desperate to find out.

There’s
very little time to sleep, but my exhausted body shuts down for a while,
slumped in one of the Bastion’s folding chairs. When we receive the signal from
Sheila to head out, I wake suddenly with a thrill of adrenaline tensing all of my
muscles. I follow Stirling as he leads us out of the front entrance to the
tower, back through the whitewashed medical hut and out of the safety of the
Legion’s walls. We have been granted guns for self-defence for the duration of
the mission, but they must be returned as soon as we get back. I choke on a
queasy breath when Sheila makes it clear that all the guns must be returned,
even if all the soldiers aren’t. The weapons hold more value than our lives
right now.

We
cling close to the medical hut’s walls, and I find that I’m looking out into
the pitch black expanse of the northern wasteland. The moon is clouded over
tonight, and the only light is behind us, in the faint glow of the spotlights
that illuminate the Legion’s inner compound. That meagre glow only reaches far
enough for me to see Stirling’s shadowed face and his beckoning hands. We
gather together and the tall boy leans down to whisper our orders.

“Nobody
advances without my word,” he instructs. “You walk in single file and keep hold
of the person in front of you. Step exactly where they step. No deviation.
Everybody clear on that?”

We
nod, whispering our agreement in unison. Stirling takes a hold of Goddie’s
shoulder, and the dark boy looks into his captain’s eyes. For the first time
since I’ve met him, Goddie looks deadly serious. And afraid. It unnerves me to
watch his hands shake as the muscular boy pulls an electronic device from a
pack strapped to his thigh. Its screen is backlit, glowing dark grey as Goddie
brings it to life. When he turns it toward the blackness before us, I start to
see dots of red appearing here and there on the screen. Goddie ventures forward
a step, moving the device back and forth, like it can see something he can’t.

Stirling
still has a hold of Goddie’s shoulder, and he leans in close as he murmurs,
“Well, how many are there this time?”

“Ya
don’t want to know, boss,” Goddie replies. “Trust me on dat.”

I’m
the closest to Stirling, and I tap on his back tentatively to get his
attention.

“What’s
out there?” I ask.

“Land
mines,” the captain replies. “Hugely explosive bombs that can be set off by
even the slightest vibration of a footstep. Goddie will find us a safe path
through.”

“Mines?”
I repeat in a frightened whisper. “Wow. No wonder Sheila said the Highlanders
were dangerous.”

Stirling’s
jaw stiffens and he fixes me with a silencing stare.

“The
Highlanders didn’t plant them,” he explains. “The Legion did, to keep the
rebels away. That’s why they won’t waste good soldiers if they need to scout up
north.”

He
looks almost offended that I blamed the Highlanders, but it might just be a
trick of the shadows on his face. I can’t afford to get my hopes up that
Stirling might be a rebel in hiding too. Surely, seven years is far too long
for his loyalties to still be true to his former people. Could I still be true
to mine, if I had suffered in the Legion for that long?

“Quit
ya yammering,” Goddie whispers sharply. “I’ve got de path. Grab on and make de
chain. We’re going now, slow and steady march.”

I’m
too short to hold Stirling’s shoulders, so I have to hang on to him by the
straps of his protective vest. I can feel Lucrece close behind me as we start
to walk in a snakelike fashion. Her fingers are so tense with fear that she’s
digging dents into my biceps, and the pressure is hard enough to ensure me some
more horrific bruises come the morning. A sickening thought hits me then. One
false step here, and I might never see daylight again to inspect my wounds.
It’s funny how important daybreak has become to me, even though I’ve only spent
three days in the sun’s glorious light.