The Rift Uprising (25 page)

“Listen to me. It doesn't matter how we found out about this, because the
now
of it isn't as pertinent as the
then,
ten years ago, when they stuck this shit inside us. But they did do something that will help us: They made us great soldiers. And that means knowing when to follow the chain of command. This is not a committee.
I
am in charge here. If you don't like that, you should have asked for a transfer a long time ago.” I stand perfectly still, but my eyes soften just a bit. “The fact is, you've trusted me with your lives countless times, and there is no duty I take more seriously than that. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you three, do you get that? All I care about is keeping us safe. If that meant going into the kitchen and grabbing a butcher knife to dig that thing out of your skulls, I would do it right now. This is going to get messy. This is going to get ugly—it's going to hurt. But you all need to understand that unless we stop this, or expose it, or—I don't know what
the plan is yet—but unless we do something,
we
are the bad guys. We are the axis of evil, the Empire, the Legion of SuperVillains, and literally the Frightful Four. Maybe you think I have morality issues, Henry—and maybe you're right,” I concede, throwing him the tiniest of bones, “but I don't want to be
that,
I promise you. I'd rather put a gun in my mouth than be their weapon.”

“It won't ever come to that, Ryn,” Violet assures me.

I sit down in front of Henry, on my knees. I grab his hands, which are clenched together on his lap. “I hope not. I want to live. I want to do good in this world. They made us different and I want to make a difference. Henry, do you really believe that knowing the truth has made things worse? Really?”

“I don't think we know the truth,” he says as he takes hold of my fingers. “I think we only know part of the truth, which means we are flying blind. We don't have the tactical advantage, no matter how high you believe our moral ground is, and that's a dangerous place to be.” Henry's look softens. “I know you mean well, Ryn, but we might not survive this.” He untangles one of his large hands and tenderly runs one of them down the length of my hair.

“No,” I admit. “But if we die, we die for our cause, not theirs. We can take something back now that they stole from us. I like those terms a hell of a lot better, even if it means we're flying blind.”

“And we can have sex,” Boone adds, and the rest of us collectively release heavy sighs. “I mean, yeah, yeah, saving the world or worlds, plural. I'm in. But I was pretty much down for anything once you told me about the red pills.”

“Hey, it's Mr. Romance!” I exclaim with tween enthusiasm, and get up off the floor.

“Go, freedom fighters,” he cheerleads. “And sex. Go, having sex.”

“We're with you, Ryn. All the way,” Violet says earnestly.

I nod and smile, happy they've decided to follow me. Happy my team is still with me. But Henry is right.

We have no idea what we are in for.

I spend what's left of the night up in the attic. Ezra and I use the small bed like a lifeboat, clinging to one another, each of us adrift on a sea of variables and theories. We have no real answers. We only have uncharted maps of skin: arms and legs and torsos. We trace the lines of muscles and sinew. We wrap our limbs together and find our way in the semidarkness.

I know that Boone is keen to have sex. I am not ready yet to go to that place, and Ezra does not push me. I know my body. I know how it can bend to fight and kick and hit, but I have never felt it arch like it does when one of Ezra's hands is on the small of my back and the other is on my thigh. I know how to hurt, but I don't know how to caress or touch with feather strokes, or grab and claw to elicit moans instead of blood. We don't have a lot of time, but I am not willing to give up the excitement of this process to expediency. The inevitable
might be racing toward us, but here, in this bed, I want to be slow and deliberate. I want to stretch out each new discovery I make. This will never be new for me again. I don't know anything about sex, but I do know that the first time only happens once, and I am young. I think I love him, but I am overwhelmed. Could any boy make me feel this way? Or is it just him? I feel like the first time you should know, for sure.

LATER ON IN THE MORNING,
I have to leave for work. I know I have to go, but that doesn't make it any easier. I reluctantly kiss Ezra deeply and close the front door. I have been distracted these past few days, but that distraction is over. I feel singular in purpose: Find out what ARC plans to do with the Citadels and find out if they have discovered where Ezra is. I drive to Battle Ground High. I ignore the other students completely, get quickly through the school to the ARC section and hop on the train, all the while putting Ezra and my feelings for him in a lockbox that I mentally kick to the back of my brain. Right now, I have to be a soldier, not a girlfriend. Which is actually pretty easy, considering I've been one most of my life, and the other—if I'm even that—for like three minutes. Once we arrive, I walk with renewed determination to the changing rooms. Let them try to stop me, I think. I am in a mood for violence.

I see Violet dressing once I enter. Her lip is split and she has a light bruise on her cheek. I sigh.

“So much for taking things slow, huh?” I whisper once I get close enough.

“We did, at first. We held hands for an hour while Boone made me hold some rare edition of an
X-men
comic.”

I can't help but laugh at that. “What did he have to endure, I wonder?”

“Oh, I'm sure he'll be more than happy to relay that I made
him turn on Josh Groban. God, by the way he bitched about it you'd think I made us listen to
Rent
or
The Little Mermaid
.” I peel off my clothes and start to shimmy my way into the field uniform.

“Is
The Little Mermaid really
not on your list, Vi? How about
Aladdin
?” I zip up the zipper and Violet puts a hand on her hip.

“Oh, right, sorry, I forgot you're the coolest girl on Earth. So,
Star Trek: The Next Generation
wasn't on mute last night when you and Ezra were doing your thing?”

I wince a little because I had actually thought about putting it on until I realized that Imogen Heap would give us a sufficient emotional buffer. The list is all well and good, but it's kind of hard to set the mood with aliens and eighties hair. I love
Star Trek
because it's always been my dad's favorite show and we could watch it together without talking. Then I started to like it. Actually, after a careful examination of the list, I have had to accept that I'm a pretty big dork, and cringingly, most of my choices are things that my parents liked first. Damien Rice is my mom's absolute favorite and he's become one of my favorites, too. Our taste in music is one of the few things we have in common. Ezra, true to his word, has not judged me, but why would he?
He's a computer geek.
We might look a certain way, but we're both nerds on the inside, which suits me just fine. Besides, my list is not all sci-fi fantasy stuff.
Downton Abbey
is on the list, and so is
Gilmore Girls
and
The Great British Bake Off,
or as I like to call it, visual Xanax. Wow. I watch
a lot
of TV.

When I'm done dressing, Violet and I walk to the transport bay. No one has noticed Vi's face. Injury is common among Citadels. It's almost more unusual for us
not
to have some kind of visible bruise. Boone and Henry meet us there. I notice that Boone looks far worse. His eye is black and his jaw is swollen.

“I thought you said you just held hands,” I say very softly so no one else can hear besides us four.

“I said we did that for an hour, then we tried kissing. But I dropped the comic book and then we were kind of making so much noise I couldn't hear the music and yeah, it got a little violent. But just a little.”

“I—”

I cut Boone off at the pass. “Don't say it, Boone. None of the terrifying shit we've figured out is going to matter if you two kill each other before we can make a plan. Seriously,” I say just before the jeep rolls up, “you've been waiting for, like, a hundred years just to touch each other. Do you have to turn into porn stars overnight?”

“Speaking of that,” Boone says conspiratorially, “Vi wanted to put porn on the list.”

We are in the vehicle now, and the regular army troops look back at us from the front seat. I give Vi and Boone a dirty look, warning them to watch what they say.

“
The Notebook
is not porn,” Violet argues.

“I was being ironic, Violet,” Boone deadpans. Then he mouths the words so that only we four can possibly hear or understand him. “Every movie she has on that damn list ensures that I will never,
ever
get an erection.”

“You guys need to shut up now,” Henry says without much emotion. It must be so hard for him. He knows I have Ezra. Boone and Vi have always had each other, but Henry doesn't have anyone. There are a few other openly gay Citadels at ARC, but none are as cool or handsome as Henry. Besides, we don't even know how or when we are going to tell the others about our discovery. Henry isn't any better off than he was before, and I get a rush of shame that everything has changed in my life, but as of right now, nothing has changed for him.
He can't touch anyone or be touched and we are going off to work, just like we always do.

We take our positions in Foxhole Six today. If there is serious action, we will be a part of it. Omega Team is taking point. I haven't seen Audrey (thank God), and I'm not sure if Levi is working today. That makes me think: Should I tell Levi? He could have sold me out to ARC about getting into the Village, but my money is that Audrey's cooperation in return for shift work at The Rift site is how Applebaum found out. Levi is an asshole, straight up, but he is an excellent Citadel. He's a brilliant tactician and a natural leader, not to mention that no other Citadel can beat him in a fight, except for maybe Henry. I'm just not certain we can trust him. Considering what he did to his ex-girlfriend, he would likely be on our side, so there is that.

Still, he has that whole total-jerk thing going on.

We had all agreed that talking about what Ezra and I have uncovered would not be smart with so many ears around. Instead, we sit silently in the foxhole. The trench is uncomfortable and cold. When it starts to rain, each of us pushes our backs farther into the mud, trying to get some cover from the small ledge above our heads. I close my eyes. This is another part of my job I hate. The superhuman strength is great and all. I love healing fast, and by the end of the day Boone and Violet will appreciate it, too, probably when the marks on their faces are gone. But this? This mundane waiting outside in the pouring rain? I'd be happy to walk away from this.

Suddenly, I feel the air change around us. It crackles and hums. I already have goose bumps from the cold, but I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stiffen. I get that same sense, that pulling ache in my belly. The Rift is about to open. Omega Team confirms my instincts just a few short seconds later. We
wait until it reaches Stage 4, but we don't have to wait long. Instantly, I hear a great booming crash and the trees about two hundred feet behind us explode. Bark and dirt rain down on us in the hole.

It's the Karekins.

My teammates and I look at one another. We had talked about this last night, and it's as if the gods heard us. I need to get to a Karekin and question him alive, and I need my three teammates to help me—and now we have a chance.

We leap out of the foxhole. Right away I know that something is different. Thirty Karekins flank what looks to be a tank, and even more Karekins follow behind it. This species has always been deadly, with sophisticated weapons and armor, but the fact that they manage to drive a vehicle through The Rift tells me that something has changed on their part. The tank starts firing, and a fiery red laser pulse cuts down the Citadels that have jumped from the Nests.

Damn. They are going to need all four of us in this fight. But there's something much bigger going on than this battle, and the Karekins' tank is definitely part of that. My team is holding back, probably thinking the same thing. I nod to let them know our plan is still on. We might be putting some of our fellow Citadels' lives at risk by stepping away from the combat, but we could be saving everybody's life if I can corner a Karekin and get some information.

Through the smoke and chaos I see Levi. He's cutting down the Karekins as if they were nothing more than sheets strung up on a laundry line. I watch as he shoots one squarely between the eyes and then kicks another so hard into a tree that the trunk actually snaps with the force of it. There is such precision in his combat that he makes it look effortless. Then,
as if he knows somehow that I'm watching, he turns his head and looks at me. He looks puzzled: Why aren't I fighting?

Shit.

The four of us pick the enemy soldier who is closest to the edge of the forest. He is by no means on his own, but there are at least ten feet between him and another Karekin. The tank continues to blast and our troops start firing back. There are turrets in the Nests for this very reason and despite the misery of a foxhole, I'm beyond grateful we weren't assigned to one today. Vi might be the best shot with a rifle, but for some reason, I'm the most accurate with the heavier artillery. I would have had to stay behind.

We all lunge for the single Karekin. He goes to pull out his weapon, but we are close enough that Boone can shoot him in the hand so that his gun drops. Henry and I get behind the Karekin. I give him a running kick to the kidney, which pushes him forward a foot or two. Boone and Vi are the bait. He doesn't have his gun, but he's pissed that Boone shot him. He starts to pursue them, his giant strides covering more ground than ours can, but it doesn't matter because we are way faster. I pray that Levi doesn't follow us. I manage a quick look and I don't see him.

Thank God.

So far, this is working. Henry and I are right behind him so he can't run back, not that he wants to by the look of fury on his face as he chases Boone and Violet. The Karekin's blood, a red so deep it almost looks purple, spills out on the needles and brush below. I don't let the amount of it fool me. This species is tough: A gunshot wound is barely more than a scrape to them unless it's to a vital organ.

The Karekin reaches out for Boone and swats him deftly
in the head. Boone goes down for just a moment, rolling on the ground and then bouncing up again. We are farther away from the action now, but not far enough. Henry races forward, running at full speed, and pushes the giant forward with all his strength. The Karekin goes flying past Boone and Violet, at least ten feet. He gets up again quickly, but not fast enough, and Vi lands another swift kick to his back. He staggers forward. We have to keep him thinking that we want to fight. He won't follow us if he thinks we are just herding him away from the rest of his unit. Does he know anything about us? Because if he truly knows what we are capable of, he can't possibly think that he can best all four of us together. It could be that he does know, but his temper and his emotions are stopping him from thinking clearly. Maybe none of it matters at all. Maybe he knew he was going to die anyway and figured he'd just take as many of us with him as he could.

The Karekin is on his knees with only Boone in front of him now. He lunges forward and grabs Boone's ankle. It would be easy for Boone to simply kick out with his other leg and land one good one to the Karekin's face. Instead, Boone lets the soldier pull him down, feigning weakness, allowing the Karekin to believe there's a chance. The Karekin pulls out a knife from his utility belt and leaps on top of Boone. Violet jumps forward and yanks the enemy's hand back. Then she takes her knee and plants it squarely on the Karekin's elbow between her own two hands. The Karekin is on his knees and forced to drop his knife. She may have broken his arm. Boone takes off running again and the Karekin, enraged, throws off Violet, gets up, and follows. Finally, I think we are far enough away. I signal to the rest of my team to hold up and disable the mics.

When we all stop, he screams. It is a primal, throaty roar. He must realize that he's surrounded, that he's been stupid
and let his anger get the best of him. I hold my hands out and make my posture less rigid.

“We don't want to hurt you,” I say in his own language. “We just want to talk.”

The huge being narrows his amber eyes at me. “Get my words out of your mouth.” His accent is a lot different than the one I heard in the MP3 files. The nuances are hard to catch.

“I don't mean to offend you. I apologize. I learned your language, but I had to steal it from the people in charge here. They don't want us to communicate. Why do you think that is?”