The Last Uprising (Defectors Trilogy) (11 page)

I felt a surge of anger that the PMC would go after Kinsley. He was just a kid — completely harmless. It was wrong.

“What about Godfrey?” asked Logan.

He shook his head slowly, as if trying to string the facts together. “I didn’t see them take him. Didn’t see Godfrey at all, actually. But everything happened so fast. I just ran.”

Maybe I was imagining it, but I thought I detected a subtle note of shame and defeat on his last word.

Once Kinsley had recovered, I helped Logan steer Ida back to her tent. I ran to make them a pot of tea, my hands and legs busying themselves without consulting my brain. The pain in my temple had become a dull ache, but I ignored it.
 

These people were clearly trouble, but I was one of them now. I couldn’t fight for World Corp. I was mixed up and confused, but all my instincts told me Amory and the others were good.

Night blanched into a cloudy gray morning, and Amory, Greyson, and Roman helped drag the dead out into the woods. The ground was frozen, so they buried them in the snow. More was falling in huge wet flakes, and I hoped it would be enough to cover the bloody patches, the muddy tire tracks, and the evidence of death that hung over the camp.

Amory and Greyson went into Ida’s tent to share what we’d learned about World Corp’s control of the communes, and I felt sorry that Ida couldn’t even spend one evening grieving for her friends without worrying about the fate of all the people who were depending on her.

By the afternoon, the sky was still a sickly gray, and I heard a shout from outside Ida’s tent. I ran out in a panic — not knowing what to expect — and saw a hooded figure approaching from the woods. The limp, pronounced by the uneven ground, and the bushy black beard were unmistakable.
 

“Godfrey!” Amory shouted.

Godfrey didn’t break stride as Amory and the others surrounded him, demanding to know what had happened and where he had been. He was headed straight for me — straight for Ida’s tent — and I instinctively stepped out of the way.

As he ducked into the tent, a memory danced through my head: Godfrey in a rumpled white PMC uniform. It clashed wildly with his unruly beard and weathered face, but it was real. He was a mole, and he had helped me break Amory out of Isador. As poignant as the memory felt, it was like watching a movie about someone else’s life. I felt so disconnected from that person I had been.

Logan’s hand on my arm snapped me back to reality as she pulled me away from the tent.
 

“He kicked me out,” she hissed indignantly. “As if Ida’s not going to turn around and tell me everything he says.”

As Logan pulled away, I noticed the strained look on her face and the way her hand clasping my arm shook a little.

Everything she said was pushed aside by the question that had been burning in my mind. “Logan, what happened? What did the cure
do
to you?”

She released me abruptly and took a step back. From the way she was looking at me, I couldn’t tell if she was angry, surprised, or both.

“It’s just . . . you weren’t like this before.”

Logan’s startling green eyes went cold. “Oh,
really
? Tell me, Haven. What
was
I like before? I guess you know everything about me, but you don’t remember that we’re supposed to be
friends
.”

I staggered backward, the smack of anger stinging my insides. “It’s not my fault I don’t remember. I don’t know why I don’t, but —”

“You don’t know
why
? World Corp brainwashed you into thinking we’re the enemy. They turned you against all your friends and left you with
nothing
! And today when they raided camp, they
left
you here.” She said the last few words with relish. “Did you ever think that maybe they’re not your friends and we are? Maybe if you tried to remember us, you’d see the truth.”

I
had
thought about that — more than I was willing to admit. I understood why Logan was angry with me, but it was all too much to take in.

“Look around, Haven!” She gestured wildly at the destruction. “We’re at war! This is why the rebellion is happening. They kill people. They poisoned them with the virus, and now they’re hunting down innocent families who escaped those horrible communes. Is that the world you want to live in?”

I stared at her, utterly lost for words. My head was throbbing.
 

None of it fit with what I had been taught. It made sense, but if what Logan was saying about the virus was true, I couldn’t justify anything World Corp had done. They had killed too many people — civilians. They had killed my mother.

“Amory may be in denial, but I’m not,” said Logan. Her words sounded confrontational, but her tone was steeped in hopelessness. “We’re done holding you prisoner. If you want to leave, leave. If you want to stay, you’re with us. But you can’t stay here and be loyal to World Corp.” Logan shot a glance at two grown men weeping together in the snow. “Not now.”

Even though I knew it was a test, her words fortified me. It didn’t sound as though she was pushing me away at all; she was asking me to make a choice.
 

As tough as she was, Logan could never hide how much she
cared
. She cared so much about Amory and Ida and Greyson that it physically hurt to watch, and her tone told me she cared
deeply
whether I stayed or left.
 

Right then, that meant everything to me. And for the first time since I’d arrived at camp, I felt that maybe I had friends after all.

It was nearly dark by the time Ida and Godfrey emerged from the tent.

I was sitting next to Kinsley because he was the only person who didn’t make me feel wildly out of place.
 

The camp fell silent as she stepped into the center of the circle near the fire. The frailness and grief were gone. She was Ida again.

“Friends,” she began. “We lost a lot of good people today.” Ida dragged in a breath, and I knew she was thinking of Murphy.
 

“We feel beaten because the PMC took them from us, but they have not won. As long as we are still fighting, we are still a threat to them.”

The crowd was silent, soaking in the sorrow.

“Our friends and loved ones wouldn’t want us to surrender. Many of those we lost were good friends of mine, and I know they’d want us to pick ourselves up and keep going. This fight is bigger than us. It’s bigger than today.”

There was a murmur of assent in the crowd, and this seemed to strengthen Ida for what came next.

“But our situation has changed. We cannot stay here now that the PMC knows our location. Godfrey has been gathering intelligence, and it is his assessment that we should be safe for a few days at least. What we really need are new strongholds south of the border to demonstrate the power of the resistance and force them to divide their resources.”

The crowd bristled, and the fearful muttering spread like a horde of wasps.
 

“I have not forgotten those living in terror in the World Corp communes. We still intend to infiltrate those facilities and free those who wish to join the cause. Some of them could be great allies in the fight against World Corp, and thanks to some new information we’ve uncovered, we have a greater understanding of how Aryus Edric has been manipulating those under his control.

“Right now, my intention is to send a small party across the border to establish a new base, rally the rebels in the states, and show World Corp we are still strong. The rest of us will remain in the area to start with the communes closest to the border. Anybody who wishes to have his or her voice heard is welcome to speak now and be a part of the discussions. Just know that by this time tomorrow, we will have a plan, and our decision will be final.”

Ida drew a breath, and I waited for everyone to start chiming in.
 

Finally, a mousy woman who had escaped from one of the communes spoke. “You want people to go across the border?”

“It
is
dangerous, but many of us have done it before successfully.”

The woman looked stricken, as though Ida had suggested death by firing squad.

“Why would we want to go back to the states?” snapped an older man. “The place is crawling with carriers. I’m not going back!”

“Me neither,” said a shrill woman.

There was a general murmur of agreement, and Amory and Roman threw them all looks of disgust. Everyone who was speaking had come from the communes, so it made sense that they were the most frightened. It was fear that had driven them to the communes in the first place.

“As I said,” repeated Ida. “This is up for discussion, and no one will be
forced
to cross the border. If you have anything else to say — or if you wish to stay behind — please join me in my tent.”

As people dispersed, I found myself alone with Logan, Greyson, Amory, Roman, and Kinsley.

Roman looked sick. “They’re cowards. All of them.”

“Think of what they’ve heard about the border,” said Logan. “They’ve spent months listening to the World Corp propaganda about how terrible it is down south.”

“Well, I’m not going to crawl back into that creepy place to liberate a bunch of people who don’t want to be freed.”

“They’ve been taught to fear the states,” she snapped. “They don’t know any different.”

“They need to learn to think for themselves.”

Although I knew Roman was talking about the commune dwellers, his words felt highly personal. Amory was watching me closely, but I didn’t turn to look at him.

“Well, if Ida wants people to cross the border, I’ll do it,” said Kinsley.

Logan turned to look at him, a mixture of pride and concern in her eyes.

“So will I,” said Greyson.

Amory nodded.

“We’re all going,” growled Roman. “It’s obvious nobody here has the balls —”

“What about you?” asked Logan, turning to me.

My face burned, and I was grateful for the low light. I didn’t know what to say. All of them were staring at me.

Logan’s face fell. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“I’ll go,” I said. My voice sounded small, almost a squeak.

Amory’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

Roman was staring at me with a challenging expression, but I was too weary to fight. I didn’t have to prove myself to him. Somehow, I knew Roman and I had always been reluctant allies.

Logan left, looking satisfied, and Roman strode off in the direction of Ida’s tent — probably to put our bid in to be the party that went south.

“So you’re in?” said Amory. The hope in his gaze twisted my heart.

“I’m in.”

Greyson shook his head slowly in disbelief. “What changed?”

I took a deep breath, not knowing how what I was about to say would be received. “I don’t know what I was like before this . . .” I said slowly. “I just know what I was taught in the facility. My memories don’t make sense.”

I shook my head, trying to organize my thoughts.

“But what happened today . . . it wasn’t right. None of it. Good people don’t do this. I don’t know what to believe, so I’m going with my gut. Right now, my gut is telling me that I should trust you.”

Amory’s face fell a little at this explanation, but Greyson looked satisfied.
 

It struck me that Greyson cared most about the facts. He valued logic and always wanted to know how people arrived at their decisions, whereas Amory had other reasons for asking me. I knew whatever I said wouldn’t make him happy.

“You want to go for a run?” Greyson asked suddenly.

Amory looked surprised and then shot him a warning look. He still didn’t trust me not to run away.

“A run?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, you know . . . like old times. I feel all cagey.” He feigned a shiver and shifted his weight on the balls of his feet like a boxer. Despite everything that had happened, this made me want to laugh.

“Yeah. All right.”

We weren’t dressed for a run. We were wearing layers of rebel black — sweatshirts and cargo pants and combat boots — but a run sounded nice. I shed my heavy coat, and Amory looked amused.
 

I was surprising him tonight,
I thought with satisfaction.

Greyson set off at a brisk pace and I followed, my heavy boots clomping through the snow. I was happy this snow was crunchy and tacky. I was able to gain traction and push off without slipping.

Soon we fell into an easy cadence with Greyson leading the way — just as in the old days. I knew he was setting a slower pace than he would have a year ago, since neither of us was in as good of shape as we had been before the Collapse. He had a lot more muscle, and he was strong from fighting, but I had grown skinny and weak in the facility. And after today’s brush with the PMC, I had a feeling that Greyson’s runs in my absence had been adrenaline-fueled sprints, not long pieces.

I felt a slight stitch in my side, but I liked it. It was a different kind of pain than I’d experienced since leaving World Corp. The headaches made me dizzy and nauseous, whereas the pain from the run energized me.

As we ran, I listened to the soft, rhythmic tread of our feet and our staggered breaths. It was music to my ears.
 

For a long time, I’d been alone, but now I had someone beside me. We moved as a unit, and there was an unspoken bond between us now.
 

Greyson set our pace. When he moved, I moved.
 

I didn’t have to worry about my foggy memories or that horrible voice in the back of my head that told me he was the enemy. All I had to do was move my feet and breathe.

I let my mind wander. If I squinted, the white snow looked almost like the sun-soaked limestone trail we’d run on back in Columbia.
 

It was summer, and I had the freedom of breezy running shorts and light sneakers. It was hot enough that Greyson was running shirtless, sweat glistening between his lean shoulder blades. His mocha skin was already dark with a tan. He wouldn’t burn all summer, whereas I already had pink lines around my sweat-soaked cotton tank top.