Collide (Entangled Teen) (The Taking Book 3) (6 page)

Chapter Ten

I wake with a scream, my heart pounding, covered in sweat, and then I feel a hand on my arm, and before I can think better of it, I jump out of bed, ready to attack, when I finally focus on the person in bed with me. Relief flows over me, and I climb back in bed, Jackson pulling me on top of him, his arms around me as I listen to the rhythmic beating of his heart.

“I love you,” I say, because there is nothing else. I’m not even sure what the nightmare was about, but I know that no one could have brought me back to center this quickly. No one but him.

He lifts me up so we’re face-to-face and tucks my hair behind my ears. “And I love you.” Then he leans in to kiss me at the very same time that the adjoining door to Mom and Dad’s room slides open and they both rush in, followed quickly by pounding on my door and shouts from Vill and Gretchen.

“Ari, are you okay? We heard—” Dad stops, Mom narrowly crashing into his back, and then they’re both staring at us, and I’m suddenly very aware that I am still their teenage daughter. And I’m lying on top of a boy. A boy without clothes on.

Forget the war, I’m going to die right here and now. Death by parental glare.

I jump off Jackson and jerk my T-shirt down to cover more of my bare legs. “Um, hey. We were just…Jackson, he’s…”

Mom swallows, then nods to her room. “I’m going to make tea. Grexic? Why don’t you join me?”

“I’m fine right here,” he says, his teeth grinding with each word.

“Grexic?”

He turns to look at her, and I can tell it’s taking every bit of his willpower not to scream at Jackson. Or maybe shoot him.

My cheeks warm, and I give Mom a pleading look, because at the very least she understands how broken I was without him. She nods to me and reaches for Dad’s hand, leading him away while he mutters under his breath, the words “my little girl” the only thing I can make out.

The adjoining door closes and I slump against the bed. “Well, that went spectacularly well.”

Jackson sits up and laces his hand with mine, kissing my cheek. “I love when you blush.”

I shoot him a look. “You’re taking this very mildly for someone who nearly died.”

He starts to answer when the pounding continues at my main door, and with a sigh, I throw on some pajama pants and hit the open button.

Jackson doesn’t bother putting on a shirt, so as soon as Vill and Gretchen rush the room, their eyes land on him, scanning the messy bed, him shirtless, and they both look like they wish they could disappear.

“Oh, we didn’t mean to interrupt you doing, well, you know,
that
,” Vill says. “We can come back. Or not. Not. I mean, there’s, um…you’re, um…clearly
busy
.”

Groaning, I cover my face with my hands. Little did Kelvin know, if he wanted to torture me, this would have been a much better exercise.

“Why don’t you two meet us in the cafeteria?” I suggest, hinting with my tone that we need a moment.

Gretchen takes Vill’s arm, like Mom had Dad’s, and then Jackson and I are alone again.

“Are you hungry?” I ask.

“Starved. But I’m not ready to share you yet.”

I kiss him, enjoying the moment, but I know time isn’t our friend. “There are communal showers down the hall. I’ll grab you some clothes and a towel.”

He smiles. “All right. But I need a warning if you plan to join me again.”

I laugh, remembering his face when I stepped into the shower with him back on Loge. “I make no promises,” I say with a wink. And then I kiss him once more before leaving to grab what he needs, my heart full and healthy, though I can’t help wondering for how long.

…

We walk into the cafeteria hand in hand while I try to close off my thoughts. Or rather, try to ignore the thoughts of those around me. I know what they are all thinking without having to search them out—they view Jackson as dangerous. And me, a traitor.

A part of me wants to turn back, hide out in our room until we leave for the West Coast base, our first stop on Kelvin’s schedule for us, but then my eyes lock on Emmy and the smile on her face is so bright that I’m no longer concerned over the judgment all around me.

“You look good, child,” she says, wrapping Jackson in a hug and patting his cheek. “Real good. How you feel?”

He shrugs. “Alive. I can’t complain.”

We sit down at the exact moment that the doors to the cafeteria open and Law steps inside. The memory of him shooting me flashes through my mind before I can stop it, and Jackson turns on me, his face full of fury. “He shot you?”

“I…”

“He shot you? He shot you!”

“Jackson, calm down,” Vill says, but it’s no use.

He stands, his hands pressed into the table, nearly snapping it. “Answer me, now. Did he shoot her?”

Vill’s gaze drops, and then Jackson is in motion, reaching Law before we can stop him. He throws him into the nearby wall so hard it cracks, Law’s body sliding down to the floor, his eyes wide as Jackson lifts him back up by his shirt, pinning him in place. “I will kill you with my bare hands.”

“Look, I understand how this seems,” Law says, his voice low as he peers around at the crowd watching them.

“How it looks? You think I care how it looks? You shot Ari. Facts are facts. Your best friend. You shot her. What exactly do you think that makes you?”

When Law doesn’t respond, Jackson’s face contorts with fresh rage, and he punches him in the face, pulling back to punch him again when Emmy, Vill, and I reach him.

“Stop, child. This will not fix it,” Emmy says, holding his arm. She could force him back by will alone if she wanted, but she won’t control Jackson like that. Not unless he makes her.

“Jackson, please…” I say, and he turns to look at me.

“He shot you.”

“Yes, but I’m fine now. Please stop this.”

His eyes land on mine, and in them I see the real problem—he feels guilty, like he should have been there, should have stopped it.

“I’m fine.”

And then Law whispers, “I’m sorry.” The words are so low I’m not sure I heard them right, but the tone in his voice makes me ache for the friend I once loved.

Jackson isn’t so forgiving. “Yes, you will be,” he says, inches from his face. “And should you decide to hurt her again, know this: I will end you in the most painful way imaginable. I will break you bone by bone. I will make you scream like a tiny little girl. You understand me,
brother
? I will end you.”

Dad appears beside me, his expression tense. “It’s time, Ari.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Law says, rubbing his neck, a fresh bruise already appearing below his right eye. “The hovercraft is waiting.”

I glance at Dad, my heart speeding up. “And so it begins.”

Chapter Eleven

Jackson, Vill, Gretchen, and I gather in the hall outside our rooms, waiting on Mom and Dad to return from their meeting with Kelvin to let us know where to go next. The hovercraft is scheduled to depart for the West Coast in less than an hour, and as of right now we have no idea how long we will be gone or what exactly we will find when we arrive.

Kelvin argued with my dad when he suggested Vill and Gretchen should go along, but soon Kelvin saw the value in them being part of the team. Vill is a technical genius, followed closely by Gretchen. While Jackson and I are the experts in combat training, Gretchen and Vill are the ones who can save us in a crunch. In short, I wasn’t willing to go without them. Kelvin assured us that he has the country under control, but something in his eyes told me that he wasn’t so sure, that the world above the Underground—the world we once knew—is anything but controlled.

“Okay, we’re all set,” Dad says, strutting down the hall toward us, Mom and Cybil beside him.

I smile wide at Cybil. “Hey, I wondered where you’d gone.”

She winks. “Causing trouble as usual.” Something tells me she isn’t kidding.

“We have clearance for weapons for each of you,” Dad says. “Just be sure to keep them stowed until we breach the surface. Only Operatives carry weapons down here, and we don’t want to startle an average citizen.”

I stare at Dad, waiting to hear an explanation as to why he’s no longer the commander, at least not in action, but the explanation never comes.

We say goodbye to Mom and then follow Dad down the hall to the elevators and up a floor to a level that reminds me of the Engineer building back in Business Park. A chemical scent hits my nose, then the distinct smell of machinery.

“What is this level?” I ask. “I thought there were only four levels to the Underground.”

Dad’s gaze remains straight ahead. “It’s manufacturing. Kelvin had the Chemists create machinery that produces weapons. It’s a small operation, but at least it’s something.”

I peer around and sure enough, there are conveyor belts filled with various types of guns—assault rifles, laser guns, handguns, you name it. There are only a few workers scattered here and there, and otherwise it’s completely automated.

“How does Kelvin intend to use all of these guns? There aren’t nearly this many Operatives.”

Cybil nods. “Exactly right.”

“Wait. What are you saying?”

She turns to me. “Remember what Zeus had us doing back on Loge? How he asked us to train every human, whether he or she was a trained fighter or not? That’s what Kelvin is doing here, but with the entire population.”

“So, when you say we’re mobilizing the bases…”

“We’re mobilizing the populace, Ari,” Dad says. “We’re teaching everyone that has a free hand and a sound mind to fight.”

“But isn’t that risky? What if they turn on each other?”

Dad stops at a door at the end of the hall, enters a code into the keypad, and ushers us inside once the wide door slides open. “It’s survival. When the war begins, people will band together against Zeus’s army. They will fight together as one.”

I feel a wave of nervousness move through me at his words—they’re honorable to a fault. I’ve learned too much about humanity over the last six months to put my faith in anyone banding together.

We slip past the door and into a weapons armory. Thousands of different weapons, all arranged on floor-to-ceiling shelves, all with coding systems at the bottom. We stare in wonder until Dad shakes us from our trance. “Well, what are you waiting for? Choose.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice. We separate into the long room, examining every shelf until we each have two guns—traditional and laser, because you never know.

Once our weapons are strapped into place, Dad leads us back to the elevator, where he selects zero, and I know that we’re going to the surface. A myriad of thoughts races through my mind. What will we find? What will we see? Nothing? Sydia destroyed? Or everything? More bodies than ground?

The doors slice open and a breath of cold air rushes into the open elevator. Dad darts out, but I’m more cautious, a new trait for me, but recklessness no longer has its place. Or maybe it never had a place. I peer out into the open, scanning everything visible, listening and feeling for the presence of others, then once satisfied that it’s safe, I follow Dad out and onto a composite-steel surface, the rubber of our soles making the tiniest of squeaking sounds against the metal. I draw a breath, then two, enjoying the smell of fresh air and the sun on my face.

We’re surrounded by woods, in the forest that cradles the airport, the rest of Sydia only visible on the horizon, but immediately I notice something missing. I turn around, trying to gain my bearings, but I’ve always had an impeccable sense of direction. I can find due north anywhere, always have.

So why can’t I find the Trinity towers in Business Park?

“Where are the buildings?” I ask. “I thought the war hadn’t begun yet?”

Dad faces me. “Kelvin had them demolished. He felt Zeus would hit there first, and he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of taking down our most treasured buildings. So he did it himself.”

I suck in a breath. “He did it? But that’s insane.”

Dad’s expression turns worried, an emotion I’ve rarely seen on his face. “There’s a lot of insanity going on now.”

A sense of dread floods my chest, settling in my stomach. I expected to feel safe once I returned to Earth, to feel comfort in my old life, but nothing about this world feels safe. It feels chaotic. But maybe that’s just a reaction to Kelvin. I hope so.

We continue through the airport, and I’m reminded of the last time I was here—the attack outside the execution chamber, the deaths from the neurotoxin. I keep my head down to prevent my eyes from watering at the memory. So many died here.

Dad motions to a hovercraft to the right, and the soft sound of its engine greets us. It’s sleek and black, like every other hovercraft I’ve ever seen, but this is the first time I’ve ever been inside one. I feel my heart rate kick up as we step inside, a part of me still questioning Kelvin’s motives. What if this is all a setup? Some suicide mission, the hovercraft programmed to crash as soon as we’re outside Sydia? But what good would it do him to kill us?

There are six seats inside, plus the cockpit. A few storage compartments and safety gear, but otherwise, the hovercraft is tiny. I stare around, waiting to see who will man the plane, and see Dad slip into the captain’s seat.

“When did you learn to fly?” I ask him.

“I received my license before you were born, when I first became an Operative.”

I stare at him in awe. “Wow. I had no idea.”

Dad smiles over at me. “Want to be my copilot?”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

I eye Jackson, and he nods for me to go ahead. I wish we had more time to talk, but every moment has been too rushed.

Dad puts the craft in motion, and I watch him, enjoying the sight of him looking like a leader again. Here, among our group, he is.

The full group includes Dad, Cybil, Vill, Gretchen, Jackson, and myself. A large part of me wanted to beg Mom to come as well, but Kelvin wouldn’t allow it regardless. She’s the best Chemist he has.

“What happened while I was gone, Dad?” I ask after we’ve been in the air a few minutes. I know the question is a risk, that the craft is likely bugged, but I need to know.

Dad adjusts uncomfortably in his seat, then peers over at me. “President Cartier trusted Kelvin too much for too long. By the time she saw his intention to take over, she had her stroke. Since Lawrence was still too young to fully take over as president, he appointed Kelvin to assist. He, like his mom, trusted him. And then more and more of the top Leads placed their faith in Kelvin, and soon, he was the only leader.”

“But why didn’t you fight it? You had plenty of Engineers who were loyal to you.”

Dad focuses out the window, into the clouds ahead. “That was before…”

“Before I became an Ancient.”

“I was interrogated after you left. They felt I’d allowed you to be with Jackson, supported the Ancients. It took weeks for them to release me, and once they did, no one looked at me the same way again.”

Guilt punctures my chest. I never wanted to hurt him like this. “I’m sorry.”

His head snaps over. “They are in the wrong here, Ari. Not you. Never you. I was wrong before. It doesn’t have to be them or us. We can unify. Live as one.”

My heart warms at his words, at the change in him. But the moment of happiness is fleeting. There’s still Zeus. “Zeus doesn’t see it that way. Not now. Maybe not ever. He wants to destroy humankind.”

“Perhaps. But he is just one Ancient.”

“Yes, but he’s the only Ancient that can take this all away.”

We ride the rest of the way to the West Coast in silence, absorbed in our own thoughts and worries. In my gut, I feel like Zeus is already on Earth, creeping in the shadows and watching. Waiting for the strike. And while we’re planning to train average civilians against him, he has an army of Ancients, all with weapons far more advanced than ours and skills that outmatch us in every way. I will never stop fighting, but a small part of me wonders how we can compete when they are so much stronger.

If only we had more Ancients on our side…

“We’re here,” Dad says finally, and I peer out my window, eager to see the West Coast base, but it looks nothing at all like I imagined.

Dad lands the hovercraft, and we descend the steps onto a dirt road that leads to a run-down building that looks more shack than base. Most of the windows are boarded up, and the front door swings back and forth like it no longer wants to hang on its hinges and would rather be free. Or dead.

“Dad, are you sure—”

But before I can finish my sentence, a tall, lean man struts out of the shack toward us, a woman and a man flanking him. As they near, I realize the tall man is not much older than Jackson and me. Maybe early twenties, but the seriousness on his face says that he’s seen more in those twenty years than many do in a hundred. His dark brown hair is cropped short and it looks like he hasn’t shaved in days.

He holds out a hand to Dad. “Lead Op Myers,” he says, shaking Dad’s hand. “I’m the commanding officer here.”

Dad shakes his hand. “Myers? Did you train in Sydia?”

Myers nods. “I did, sir. I requested transfer shortly after reaching Lead status.”

“Why did you request transfer?” I ask, unable to remain quiet.

His eyes fix on me. “Politics. And you must be Ari. I hear you’ve got your own political issues.”

I run my hand absently over the spot where Law shot me. “Yeah. I guess I do.” His gaze holds mine before shifting to the others. I step back, motioning to each of them. “This is Jackson, Vill, Gretchen, and Cybil.”

He eyes each of them and then returns his attention to me. “More than half of you are Ancient.”

Well, this could get more complicated than I’d imagined…

Reading my thoughts, Jackson steps forward, his expression clear. The xylem running through him has healed his wounds, and now his ripped, six-two body stands tall, all muscle and purpose. “Is that a problem?”

Myers smirks, but I can feel a hint of fear rolling off him. “I know about you as well. Jackson Castello. Only grandson of Zeus Castello. Future leader of the Ancients. Notorious fighter.”

Jackson cocks his head. “Then you know what I’m capable of.”

“I do, indeed. But you can relax. The comment wasn’t intended to be offensive. I’m just curious about your kind.”

I place a hand on Jackson’s arm to calm him down. “It’s okay,” I say.

He links his fingers through mine, but his eyes remain on Myers. I glance around in search of Dad, expecting him to voice an opinion about Jackson’s reaction, but he’s by the door to the base, talking to a man with gray hair and a face full of wrinkles, but who’s in every bit as good shape as the rest of us. Myers follows my gaze.

“That’s Lead Op Wilkinson. He trained with your dad.”

“Why is he still in the field instead of working back at Sydia?” Then I remember what Sydia is like now and shake my head. “Not that there are many back home.” Jackson squeezes my hand and leans in to kiss the top of my head.

“It’s different now,” Jackson whispers into my ear. “But different doesn’t have to be bad.”

Myers clears his throat, bringing us back to the moment. “This is Cassie and Al, two Operatives on our team here. They will ensure you have what you need while you’re staying with us. Now, why don’t I show you around?”

I cock an eyebrow at Myers. What exactly does he think there is to show? But then he’s leading us into the base, and I realize that the outside is nothing more than camouflage. From the outside, it looks as though the base is just some abandoned warehouse, but once inside, I see the true Engineerness of the base.

We walk through the main doors and down a set of rusted stairs and then through another door and into what feels like another world. Instantly, I’m brought back to Sydia, to the Engineer building, and the smells of machinery and technology. The main room is all composite steel and reminds me of the FT gym back home—all tall ceilings and space that seems to go on forever—only this room is sectioned off into several different areas, some cubicles filled with people plugging away at their T-screens, while other areas are open, and I can only imagine what happens within them. I try to run a count in my head of how many people are in this one massive building, but there are too many things to look at for me to guess. Thirty? Fifty? One hundred? And if there are fifty or a hundred Operatives here, at this one base, then how many are there across the rest of the country? The world?

Suddenly a strange feeling circulates through me: hope.