Rebel (10 page)

“I don’t understand why they put up with this.”

I turned at the quiet voice to see Addie standing next to me. I shrugged, because I didn’t know, either. I scanned the crowd around me. I wondered how many had been killed by Micah’s hunting teams.

I glanced at Isaac again.
“Just lucky, I guess.”
That’s what he’d said when I asked how he came to live at the reservation. He said he wasn’t born here.

“No one tried to put a stop to it?” Addie whispered.

“Maybe they don’t care,” I murmured, gesturing for her to follow me. “Come on.”

Isaac stopped when he saw us coming, hand poised to pull back the tent flap. A flash of nervousness crossed his features and he scanned the area behind us.

“I’m not sure you guys should come in,” he said.

“Why not?” Addie asked.

“Micah likes to introduce new Reboots slowly. You know, so they’re not overwhelmed.”

“You don’t think they’ve already been overwhelmed by the whole being-murdered thing?” I asked.

Isaac gave me a look like he didn’t think that was very funny, and I quickly shut my mouth. I had a feeling my suspicions about his cause of death were correct.

“I’m going to give this to her,” he said. “She’s not talking right now anyway.” He disappeared into the tent.

Addie crossed her arms over her chest, shivering in the chilly night air. “Have you talked to Wren?”

“A little.”

“Beth told me she heard Wren sewed up their gunshot wounds while they were still dead so there would be less scarring. I thought that was nice.” Addie shrugged. “Like she did the only thing she could, you know?”

I looked back in surprise to where Wren was, but she and Micah were gone. She hadn’t told me that. I was pretty sure I would have panicked and exploded at Micah if I’d been on that hunting trip. But Wren was able to keep it together well enough to sew up a dead person’s chest. That never would have even occurred to me.

Isaac emerged from the tent, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched like he was trying to disappear. “Do you guys need something? Do you want to go get some food?”

“Is that how you died?” I asked quietly, nodding at the tent.

He cleared his throat, glancing around as if searching for an escape. “I can’t really talk about it.”

“What do you mean, you
can’t
?” Addie asked, her brow furrowing.

He took a step closer, ducking his head. “Micah doesn’t like it. We’re supposed to let go of the past.”

Let go of the past? Was that code for
“You’re not allowed to be mad we murdered you so just shut up and act happy?”

“Were you with other people?” I asked. I didn’t care what Micah liked. I was going to talk about it. “Did they kill your family, too?”

Isaac hesitated. “Yeah,” he finally whispered, releasing a rush of air like he was relieved to have said it. “My parents died when I was young, but I was with my older brother and a few people who were basically family. They all died.”

“How old were you?” Addie asked, her voice full of horror.

“Fourteen. It was a year ago. They came in and shot us all, and I woke up on the back of a motorcycle with Jules.” His words came in a rush now. “And then they brought me here and it was basically like I was supposed to be grateful.”

“You mean you
are
grateful.”

I jumped at the words coming from the side of the tent, and Micah stepped out, his face hard and angry. Isaac paled, almost tripping over his own feet as he took a step back from us.

“Y-yes,” he stuttered.

I hadn’t seen that kind of fear in a Reboot’s eyes since leaving HARC, and Isaac’s panic made dread unfold in my chest. Why was he so scared? Why would he stay here if Micah had killed him and everyone he knew?

Micah looked into the distance, pointed down at Isaac, and in seconds Jules was by his side, a frown on her face.

“We’ll discuss this further in my tent,” he said.

The way Isaac’s eyes rounded with fear told me I didn’t want to know what went on in Micah’s tent.

Jules grabbed Isaac’s arm and I stepped forward, attempting to block her.

“Stop,” Isaac said, giving me a wild look and shaking his head. “Leave it.”

I opened my mouth to protest as Jules yanked him to her. Micah watched the scene with his arms crossed over his chest, a menacing presence that didn’t have to lift a finger.

“Callum, leave it,” Isaac repeated, throwing me a pleading glance over his shoulder.

I let out a defeated sigh and moved back so I was next to Addie again. She was motionless, fear plastered on her face.

Micah took a step forward, furious eyes darting between Addie and me. “There are rules here.”

“No one told us any rules,” Addie said.

Micah’s jaw moved, like he was trying to control his temper. “Isaac told you at the beginning of the conversation that we don’t talk about our lesser human lives.”

Lesser human lives?
Was this guy for real?

“But I know you’re new, so I’m cutting you some slack.” His tone lightened enormously, which gave me the impression he was completely out of his mind. It was like he flipped a switch from
“I’m going to kill you”
to
“Let’s be friends.”

I took a small step back. I didn’t want to be friends.

“But I suggest you mind your own business and stop interfering in things you don’t understand.”

Which part didn’t I understand? He killed people. He controlled them. He scared them. Seemed pretty basic to me.

Addie and I didn’t say word, which appeared to please him. He gave us a slight nod and turned to walk to his tent.

“That seems really bad,” Addie breathed when he was out of earshot.

Yeah. It did.

I returned to our tent that evening to find Wren already sitting on the mattress, her legs pulled to her chest and an arm wrapped around them. She turned to me with a worried expression as I shut the tent flap.

“How’s Isaac?” she asked. “Did you find him?”

I nodded. I’d filled her in earlier, then gone looking for Isaac. It was quiet outside, most of the Reboots already in their tents, and I lowered my voice when I spoke. “Micah didn’t have him for long, and he seems fine. He wouldn’t talk to me, though.”

“Micah could do whatever he wanted to them,” she said
with a sigh. “They’d just heal a few minutes later and no one would know.”

I winced at the possibility. “Lovely.” I sat down next to her and ran a hand down my face. “I can’t understand why they would all just go along with him being their leader.”

“He makes some good points,” she said quietly. “They want to survive, and he’s providing them with a good plan.”

I raised my eyebrows. “A good plan?”

“A logical plan,” she corrected, avoiding my eyes.

I pushed back a burst of annoyance at Micah being called “logical.” That was the last word I would have used to describe him. I gave her a confused look.

“He’s doing the only thing he knows how to do to protect everyone here. His experience has shown him that humans and Reboots can’t live together. So he had to make a choice.”

“The choice to kill everyone?” I asked.

“Everything isn’t black and white, Callum,” she said quietly.

I paused, deciding not to tell her I thought murder
was
black and white. You chose to kill people or you didn’t.

Unless HARC made you insane and you accidentally killed someone. I paused, a pang of guilt zipping through my body. Maybe it wasn’t
totally
black and white.

“But that wouldn’t have been your choice,” I said.

“No,” she said immediately. “But I see his rationale.”

I scrunched my face up. I didn’t see how anyone could make a decision that involved murdering an entire species. I could
barely handle that I’d killed one person.

“I made choices like that,” she said to her lap.

I slid my fingers between hers. “How do you mean?”

“I went into the Austin facility knowing that humans were going to die. That maybe some Reboots would die. I decided that was an acceptable sacrifice to save you. Micah has decided that all the humans are an acceptable sacrifice to save the Reboots.”

I held her hand tighter. “That isn’t the same. You never
wanted
to kill anyone. You did it because you had to, or because you were protecting yourself or me. You’re not committing mass murder because you can. You see the difference, right?”

Wren squinted, like she was thinking about it. It freaked me out when she gave serious thought to things that seemed simple to me. She really had to think that hard about it?

She caught the look on my face and immediately slipped her hand out of mine, her cheeks turning pink. “Yes,” she said. It was an obvious lie, said to make me feel better.

She looked embarrassed now, and I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. I didn’t appreciate her seeing any of Micah’s points, but I felt guilty for making her uncomfortable.

“Hey,” I said, running my hand to the back of her neck. “They said you sewed up the kids Micah killed.”

She nodded, her fingers closing over the collar of her shirt. I tried not to look. I didn’t want to tell her that by not showing
me her scars, she’d made me even more curious about them. But I couldn’t come up with a way to ask about them that didn’t sound like
“I really want to see your boobs,”
so I kept my mouth shut.

“That was a nice thing to do,” I said, gently removing her fingers from her shirt and taking her hand.

She shrugged. “I would have liked someone to do that for me.”

I nodded, giving her an understanding look when she met my eyes. I leaned down and brushed my lips across hers, holding her tighter.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

I MET MICAH OUTSIDE THE RESERVATION THE NEXT DAY, IN THE
grass near the lake. Most of the reservation was already there, milling around as they waited. Micah had explained to me that everyone capable of fighting participated in sparring/training sessions several times a week. I’d volunteered right away when he mentioned it, and I was happy for the distraction this morning.

My heart took a dip as I found Callum in the crowd. He stood next to Isaac, arms crossed over his chest, and when his eyes met mine he smiled. I returned the smile, trying to push last night’s conversation out of my head. I kept seeing his face after I told him Micah was logical, like he was horrified I could ever think that.

I’d known it was a mistake the moment I said it. But what was I supposed to do? Lie? Micah wasn’t insane; he was strategic. He was making decisions based on logic and experience and he wasn’t letting emotions get in the way. The results were kind of horrifying, and I hadn’t lied when I said I wouldn’t have made the same decisions, but to dismiss him as insane wasn’t smart.

“You all right?”

I jumped, quickly turning away from Callum to find Addie next to me, a concerned expression on her face.

“Fine.”

She frowned and made a face like she was going to say something, but Micah was strolling in my direction, Riley next to him. Addie squeezed my arm gently and I shook her off, not wanting to encourage her to talk to me. I didn’t want another person looking at me like I was crazy.

“Good morning.” Micah smiled at me as Addie walked away. “You ready?”

“Yes.”

“I’d like for you to take whoever seems like they need the most help. I’m thinking only a couple weeks until we go in to the cities, at most. We need to kick it into high gear.”

I swallowed. That was soon. I expected more time to figure out what to do. Leaving was risky, given what happened to the group that split off. Staying meant going along with Micah’s plan, and dealing with Callum trying to recruit the reservation
Reboots to help the humans. Staying also meant training with the reservation Reboots, many of whom would turn around and use those skills to kill humans.

My eyes darted over the crowd I was supposed to train. So many of them looked young. Many were around eleven, twelve years old.

“They look young,” I said, pointing.

“Everyone twelve and up is participating,” he said.

By “participating” he meant “ordered.” Twelve was also the HARC age for training. I glanced at Riley, who also seemed uncomfortable.

I couldn’t keep my mouth shut about this one.

“Sixteen,” I said.

Micah raised his eyebrows. “Sorry?”

“Sixteen and up, not twelve.”

“I think twelve is fine.”

“I died when I was twelve and was put into HARC training right away. I don’t think you realize what that’s like,” I said, realizing too late that of course he understood. I wasn’t used to dealing with an authority figure so similar to myself.

“I died when I was seven, and also started at twelve, so I understand fine,” he said. “The training process won’t be the same here anyway.”

“I’m not training twelve-year-olds for war.”

Silence fell over the crowd, and many Reboots stared at Micah nervously. One girl vigorously shook her head at me
behind Micah’s back, fear plastered on her face.

I took in a small breath, watching the faces of the rest of the crowd. Callum was right about them being scared. And not just in the way they were scared of me. What exactly did they fear from him?

Micah’s jaw moved as he studied me. “Thirteen.”

I caught Callum’s eye and he gave me a look I thought meant he was proud. Next to him, Isaac winced.

I whipped my head back to Micah. “Fifteen.”

“Fourteen.”

“Fifteen.” I’d trained too many young kids in my time at HARC. I wasn’t doing it again.

He paused, narrowing his eyes at me. The silence stretched out between us for so long I saw Jules start to shift uncomfortably behind him.

I scanned the rest of the group behind Micah. Kyle stood with them, as well as Riley, and about fifteen others. They were apart from the rest of the Reboots, mostly One-twenties or close, and none of them appeared to be scared of Micah. In fact, a few were glaring at me.