Crash (22 page)

“Not right now,” I say.

He looks at Jackson.

“No,” Jackson says. He taps the side of his sunglasses. “You going to tell them about me?” About his Drau eyes. I can just imagine how that would go over, especially with Lien. I have a feeling she'd shoot first, ask questions later—or not ask questions at all.

Luka shakes his head as Tyrone strides over and says, “Hey.”

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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WE STAY IN THE LOBBY JUST LONG ENOUGH TO GET OUR WEAPONS and our scores, then we respawn on a massive flat-topped rock, trees rising around us, mountains serrating the horizon. The air's warm, but there's a wind that rustles the leaves all around us. On instinct, we form a circle, backs toward one another, weapon cylinders ready.

Nothing moves. Nothing shoots.

There's no one else here.

“Where are we and what are we doing here?” Lien asks.

“Don't know yet,” Jackson says and leaps down to the long grass, prowling forward, weapon cylinder and knife in hand.

“I don't like it.” Tyrone jumps down after Jackson and
walks a few feet in the opposite direction, wary, tense. “Feels wrong.”

“Does it ever feel right?” I ask, hopping down and choosing a third direction, watching the shadows, the swaying branches, the dancing grass.

“Not so much,” Tyrone concedes.

Lien snorts a laugh.

Jackson checks his con, then turns to Luka. “They feeding you a map?”

“No.”

“Anyone?” Jackson asks.

We all check our cons. Mine swirls with varying shades of green. No map. I shake my head and look around to see everyone else answering in the negative.

“Then we have a problem,” Jackson says and holds up his wrist. The flat rectangle of his con shimmers with color, but no triangles, no map.

“What now?” Lien asks after a long second of silence.

“We wait,” Jackson says, then tenses and looks up. “Or not.”

“What is it?” Kendra asks.

“Drau.” He turns a half circle, scanning the trees. “I can't see them, but I can feel them. Not close.”

“I don't feel anything,” Lien says.

“Been doing this a while. Trust me. They're here.”

As if on cue, Drau fire rains down on us from somewhere to the right. We dart behind the boulder, taking cover. Not that we need it. Their shots fall short.

I search for the cell-deep terror, the genetic memory that always warns me when the Drau are near. It isn't there, which scares me because if I can't rely on my instincts, then what's left?

“Where are they?” Tyrone asks, looking to the treetops.

“Wherever they are, they know we're here,” Luka says.

More fire comes our way, again falling short.

“All the shots are coming from that direction,” Jackson says, pointing. “High up. They might be on that ridge.” He shifts his finger to the right. “Or that one.”

“Why are they wasting their time shooting at us?” Kendra asks. “If they're on those ridges, they have to know how far away we are. Can't they see they aren't getting anywhere near us? All they're accomplishing is to give us a heads-up as to their location.”

“That's exactly what they're accomplishing,” Jackson says, his tone contemplative.

“And that's why it isn't a waste of their time,” I say, turning to look at the forest in the opposite direction. “Bait and switch. Make us think they're coming at us from one direction when they actually have a second team circling from the opposite side.”

“Maybe a third or fourth team,” Jackson says.

“We need to move,” Luka says, scanning the trees.

“Move where?” Lien asks. “Which direction do we go? Which way leads away from the Drau? If Miki's right and we take off from here, we could be running right to them.”

“Process of elimination,” Jackson says. “The Drau are shooting from that direction, so we can rule that out.” He turns his head to the other side and studies the forest. “They probably have a team coming from the opposite direction, because they'd assume we'd run from them. So we can rule out going that way.”

“But you said there's more than one team coming for us.” Kendra's eyes are wide, her voice high.

“I said maybe. That's what I'd do if I had the manpower. Cover all my bases.” He holds a finger to his lips and we all fall silent.

I don't know what he's listening to. All I can hear are the sounds of the forest and the faint roar of a distant river. Jackson lifts his brows at me.

“We go that way,” I say, pointing toward the direction the sound is coming from.

“Why?” Lien asks.

“Sounds like water,” Jackson says. “Loud enough that it's moving fast and there's probably a lot of it. Close enough that we can hear it. The river will give us at least one angle they can't come at us without being seen.”

“That's the best you've got?” Lien asks.

“Best I've got.”

She shrugs. “Good enough for me. I haven't got anything better.”

“Tyrone, take point,” Jackson says. “Luka, you're with me. We'll cover the others in case the Drau are closer than we think.”

What he really means is that he doesn't plan to let Luka out of his sight. And I can't say I blame him. How much of what Luka admitted is the truth and how much is a version of the truth the Committee wants us to know? At this point, I doubt Luka even knows which thoughts are his and which are planted.

I stare at him as another possibility strikes me. What if he isn't Luka at all? What if he's a shell? I shake my head; that wouldn't make sense. The shells are Drau creations, and Luka's a pawn of the Committee. I'm losing it, my thoughts jumbling.

Drau fire splatters across a massive branch directly above us, igniting it. Sparks and burning twigs and leaves rain down on us. Lien gets the worst of it, and Kendra and I slap at her shoulder, smothering the fire before it can catch.

“I didn't know their weapons could light things on fire,” Kendra says, sounding scared.

“Live and learn,” Jackson says, then, “Tyrone, go.” He pops up, stabilizing his weapon cylinder along the top of the boulder, covering Tyrone as he makes a break for a narrow gap in the foliage. I keep my focus on that spot, weapon ready, pulse pounding as I wait for Tyrone to come back and signal the all clear. Minutes crawl past. Then he's back, thumbs up, and we run to join him.

We move fast, keeping to a jog, leaping over fallen branches and large rocks, the terrain anything but friendly.

“What's the rush?” Lien asks. “We don't even know what the mission is.”

“Right now, the mission is to stay alive. Priority one,” Jackson says. “The Drau are getting closer.”

Lien doesn't argue further, and I suspect it's because, like me, she can feel the uneasiness in her gut growing, the certainty that the Drau are tracking us.

We keep up the pace until we're forced to slow as the ground slopes down, the way peppered by holes and ruts and jagged chunks of rocks. We might have extreme stamina while we're in the game, but we're still at risk of a twisted ankle or broken bone if we go down hard. Tyrone stays ahead of us, scouting the terrain, then doubling back every once in a while so he can flash the thumbs-up and let us know the way is clear.

I know the Drau are following us. Each time I look back, I see nothing. But that doesn't mean they aren't there. Watching us. Stalking us. Maybe herding us exactly where they want us to go.

“Let's slow it down,” Jackson says as the terrain grows even rougher.

“We can keep the pace,” Kendra says, her eyes darting to the trees that surround us. “They're out there. All around. I can feel them.” She spins and stares back the way we came, walking backward as she does.

“Kendra!” Jackson surges forward, hand outstretched, a millisecond too late.

Her foot sinks into a hole and she goes down hard. She cries out, then presses the back of her wrist hard against her mouth to hold back the sounds.

“Watch our backs,” Jackson says as he and Lien hunker down beside Kendra.

Luka and I move back to back, giving us a three hundred and sixty degree perspective.

A low moan escapes Kendra. “My ankle.”

“Let me see,” Lien says. She eases off Kendra's shoe and then her sock. The outside of her ankle's already swelling. It looks like there's a golf ball under her skin.

With a hiss, Jackson pulls his knife and uses it to slice off the bottom of his T-shirt, then slices that in half and wraps her ankle like an expert.

“Sprained your ankle once or twice?” Lien asks.

“Took first aid,” Jackson answers. “Kendra, we need to get this shoe back on and it's going to hurt like hell. Don't scream.”

“Are you ever not bossy?” Kendra asks, aiming for light, but the words come out tinged with pain.

“Nope. Hold still.”

“Wait,” Lien says, and pulls her belt from the loops of her jeans. She doubles it over and hands it to Kendra. “Bite.”

With a little whimper, Kendra bites down on the leather.

Jackson takes her shoe and with surprisingly gentle hands wriggles it back and forth until it's on and then ties her laces. To Kendra's credit, she doesn't make a sound. He helps her to her feet and she takes a couple of tentative steps. Barely.

Lien looks at Jackson, panic all over her face. “She isn't going to be able to keep up.”

“No, she isn't.”

“I'm sorry,” Kendra says. “That was so stupid, so—”

“Stop,” Jackson orders, his voice hard. “It is what it is.”

She swallows and nods.

I shake my head. “Your bedside manner needs work.”

He turns his head my way and despite the circumstances, a tiny smile tugs at his lips. “Hey, I don't need a bedside manner. I just want to be a runway model.”

“Seriously?” Luka asks at the same time Lien and Kendra say, “What?”

I laugh. I can't help it. “Never mind. Inside joke.”

There's a beat of weird silence and then Jackson says, “We should move.”

Lien tries to angle her shoulder under Kendra's to bolster her. Problem is, Lien's at least a head taller. It makes for an awkward support system.

Jackson snags a thick branch off the ground and uses his knife to strip away the stray leaves. He hands it to Kendra. She clings to the branch like a cane and takes a few shuffling steps forward.

“I'm going to slow everyone down, put everyone at risk,” she says.

“You guys go ahead,” Lien says. “I'll stay with Kendra.”

“No. You go. I'll keep up as best I can—”

I stride over, cross my arms, and grab Lien's hands.
“Lien and I can make a sort of chair if we cross arms like this. I used to do this when I was a kid.”

“This'll work,” Lien says, nodding. “We can—”

There's a rustling sound and we all fall silent, weapons aimed and ready. Except Jackson. He doesn't even glance up.

Tyrone stalks through the foliage, expression pained. “I've been standing here listening and none of you had a clue—” His gaze lands on Jackson and he amends, “Almost none of you. Enough with the chatty chat. Miki, the hand-chair thing isn't a practical solution. If your hands are locked together, how do you defend yourselves? And how long do you think you'll last, moving through this terrain like that? With our luck, it'll be fifteen minutes before someone else sprains an ankle.”

Lien deflates. “He's right.” She looks at him. “Got a better solution?”

He lifts his chin at Jackson then Luka. “Rock, paper, scissors?”

“Might as well,” Luka says.

They go through the motions. Jackson wins. “Luka, you got my back?”

Luka stares at him for a long moment. “You know it.” Except Jackson can't know it because there's no way to know when the Committee will jump back inside Luka's head or what their agenda is.

Jackson pulls his knife and goes into a crouch, his free arm positioned in front of his chest, hand protecting his
face. “This is basic stance. Cover your vital organs, like this. Hold the knife like this. Stab like this.” He goes through the motions twice, then offers the knife to Luka, hilt first. “Show me.”

Luka takes it and goes through the routine. Jackson makes him do it a second time and a third, then turns to Tyrone. “Take point. Miki, back him up.”

“Hey,” Luka says. Jackson turns to him. “Thanks. For . . . you know . . . trusting me.”

“You run faster with a knife,” Jackson says.

Gamer joke. First-person shooters carry a ton of weapons. If they pull out a massive bazooka, they run slower. If they pull out something small, like a knife, they run faster. But technically, they ought to be running at the same speed because either way, they're carrying the same amount of weapons all the time.