Embattlement: The Undergrounders Series Book Two (A Young Adult Science Fiction Dystopian Novel) (16 page)

O
n impulse
, I pull my knife from its sheath and test the blade on the tip of my finger. I study myself in the mirror again, and then turn away, grab a wad of matted hair, and begin hacking at it. When I’m done lopping off the knots I can get to with my knife, I hesitantly survey my new look and give it an immediate thumbs down. It’ll take some serious scissor work to even it out and make my hair halfway presentable. But for now at least I’ve gotten rid of the worst of the tangles. I glance over at Tucker, hoping for some reassurance. “Made a right mess of it, haven’t I, old boy?” He gives me a baleful look, then turns his head aside. I wander out into the main barn to find some scissors and come face to face with Jakob and a red-eyed Nikki.

I freeze, numb at the thought of confronting the two people I least want to have a conversation right now.

“What have you done?” Jakob gasps. He reaches out his fingers toward my hair, and I shrink back.

“It needed a trim,” I say, shrugging.

“It looks awful. Wait here,” Nikki says. She wanders off and comes back a few minutes later with a pair of scissors, a jug of water, a rag and a comb. “Sit down,” she says, pulling a chair out from the table. “I’ll even it out for you. I had plenty of practice cutting hair in the bunker.” She throws the rag over my shoulders and dampens my hair. “It’s not too bad,” she says, combing it out vigorously. “Just a bit patchy. What were you thinking?”

“Spur of the moment thing,” I say, with a nervous laugh. I’m not excited about the idea of Nikki wielding a pair of scissors around my head. She’s an emotional wreck, and it hasn’t been a good day for scissors so far.

She begins snipping, wiping her nose intermittently on her sleeve. “Your hair’s as thick as your brother’s. His was always a bear to cut too.”

I stiffen at the mention of Owen, unsure what dam might burst. “Are you still planning on coming with us?” I ask, cautiously.

“Of course.” Nikki places two fingers beneath my chin and tilts my head left, then right. “You don’t think Owen would stay behind if I were the one who’d been extracted, do you?”

I slide my gaze in Jakob's direction, but he keeps his eyes trained on the scissors. I wonder what he’s thinking.

The idea of Nikki coming with us makes me queasier than ever. A few short hours ago, she was on the verge of a breakdown. The last thing we need is an emotionally distraught shooter in our ranks when we negotiate with the Rogues.

“Have you seen anyone from our bunker here?” I ask, opting to change the subject.

“No one,” she says, trimming around my earlobe. “I hope they’re safe, wherever they are.”

I stick out my bottom lip and blow a few hairs off my cheek.

“We know they fled the bunker before it was raided,” Jakob says. “But we don’t know what happened to them after that.”

Nikki throws him a sympathetic glance. “I’m sorry. I know you guys are looking for your parents.”

I clench my mouth in a tight line. “My da’s dead.”

Nikki jerks her hand away from my head. “Derry, I’m so sorry—”

I grimace. “Owen didn’t have much time for Da, but … he’s all I had left.”

Nikki jerks the comb through my hair and begins snipping again. “You don’t think Owen's alive, do you?”

“I don’t know, I—”

“Keep your head still!”

“Sorry.”

Nikki tilts my head downward and evens out a few ends. “So why are you going back?”

I let out a heavy sigh. “It’s not just about him. There are others.”

“It’s
only
about Owen as far as I’m concerned.” Nikki surveys me from both sides and trims one last piece of hair. “You’re all done.” She yanks the rag from my shoulders and shakes it out in a stall. “Let me know when you’re leaving. I’ll be ready.” She turns on her heel and swiftly disappears out the door.

Jakob widens his eyes at me. “You’ll never talk her out of going. She’s obsessed with rescuing Owen.”

“She hates me for leaving him behind,” I say, glumly. “She just hasn’t admitted it to herself yet.”

“That’s not true. She knows you did what he wanted.”

I slap at a few itchy hairs lodged on the back of my neck. “I need to talk to Sook before we leave. Do you know where Sven is keeping him?”

“In the storage building out back where they keep the feed.” Jakob gets to his feet. “I’ll catch up with you later, I’m going to check on Izzy and her brother one more time before we leave.”

I let out a long, relieved breath as I make my way outside. Evidently Trout hasn’t spilled the beans about the kiss yet, or there’s no way Jakob would have left me alone with Sven. Or maybe I’m reading too much into what happened.

S
ven springs
up from a stool when he sees me. “Wow! You look …” He flushes, rubs a hand over his jaw. “You look like you mean business.”

“Is Sook here?” I ask, eager to deflect his attention from me.

Sven gestures over his shoulder. “Tied up to a hitching post back there.”

“Go grab some food,” I say. “I’ll watch him for a bit.”

Sven nods. “Holler if you need me. I won’t be long.”

I make my way back to Sook and offer him some water from a jug nearby. He takes a mouthful and swallows it with a loud, sucking noise, then stares at me, his thin, dark brows centered in a questioning peak.

“I’m sorry about what happened to Won,” I say.

He doesn’t react, so I’m not sure what his opinion was of Won, or the Sweepers in general. Or how he really feels about his father for that matter. I can’t help but think he must bear some resentment to the man who sentenced him to the life units of a clone. I’m hoping that will work in my favor.

I swill around a mouthful of water. “You know we’re planning an attack on the Sweepers, don’t you? They have to be stopped.”

Sook blinks rapidly. “Science is progress. Progress is good.”

“If that’s progress, it’s going in the wrong direction.”

“My father seeks limitless power for mankind. It is a noble thing.”

I scratch my forehead. “What power? You mean magnetism?”

Sook pulls his scant lips into a disapproving line. “The magnetic power is nothing. Soon we will be able to harness the power of the stars. And cybernetics and implant technology will pave the way for telekinetic breakthroughs.”

I frown. “What is that exactly?”

“Telekinetics is the ability to move by thought alone. My father’s research proves it is feasible.”

“Sounds amazing.” I shift closer. “Pity you’ll die too young to enjoy it.”

A muscle twitches in his face, like a curtain drawn aside. It’s enough of a glimpse to let me know he doesn’t want to die young.

I set the water jug down on a dusty shelf. “Your father cursed you with his half-baked science. You deserve better.”

Sook stares sullenly up at me. “The birth of anything new is a messy business. Ultimately, my father’s work will change the destiny of mankind.”

“And you’re willing to be a cog in that wheel, no matter the cost?”

“I am not a cog. I am the future.”

I throw up my hands. “That’s just it! You don’t have a future! You’ll be dead in a couple of years. Don’t you think Lyong should be held accountable for that?”

A dark flush creeps over Sook’s face. “My father will resolve the ossification bug in the cloning process before I expire. He has assured me of it.”

“He can’t make those kind of promises. The cloning process is flawed. We have to stop him before he mangles any more lives.”

Sook’s eyes glisten, then narrow like a cat’s. “And that is why you align yourself with subversives, the scum of the earth, to wipe out the world’s finest scientific minds?”

“I’d align myself with anything that crawls on the surface of the earth to stop what I saw happening in the Craniopolis.”

“The Rogues cannot be allowed to breed. Cloning will eliminate such undesirables from our future.”

“And with it the right to choose who we become. A choice you were never given.” I lean forward. “I can promise you one thing, we will bring down the Craniopolis, with or without your help.”

Sook blinks, hunches into himself. “Why would I help you do something that would seal my fate? As long as my father’s work continues, there is hope of an extended life for me.” He raises his head and looks me directly in the eye. “A life such as you will enjoy.”

I ram my fingers into my hair, forgetting in the moment how little of it is left. “No one’s guaranteed a life of any length as long as your father’s alive.”

“You would ask me to sacrifice my hope so easily. Are you willing to do the same?”

“What do you mean?”

Sook wets his lips, throws a quick glance over my shoulder as if to make sure no one is coming. “You still have hope that your brother is alive, don’t you?”

My heart drums in my chest. I give a terse nod.

“I will help you if you agree to a trade. My father’s life for your brother’s.”

I make a strange, choking sound. “What are you saying?”

Sook’s tapered lips part in a sigh. “Your brother was resuscitated in the dock.”

I grab his collar and tighten it in my fist. “Don’t lie to me! You weren’t even there!”

His dark eyes glint. “Let go of me and listen!”

I shake him loose, my mouth dry as a husk.

Sook slumps to one side and studies me for a moment. “The remote device Won used to launch the Hovermedes had a monitoring camera for the docking station. Won watched a medical unit evacuate your brother after you took off.”

“I swear if you’re lying to me!” I pound my fist on the post Sook is tied to. He cringes back, ducks his head.

“Won saw my brother try to get back up, that’s all he saw,” I yell.

“That’s all he
told
you. Won was not a stupid man.” Sook looks at me cagily. “We all keep something to barter with.”

“I don’t need your lousy deal. I can barter
you
for my brother.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Unless he really is dead, and then I won’t need you anymore either.”

Sook’s face hollows out.

I stare at him for a long moment. “Think hard about whose side you want to be on when this is over.”

I turn and walk back up to the front entry of the storage building. A moment later, Sven reappears, clutching a half-eaten loaf of freshly-baked bread. He knits his brows together when he sees the bent-out-of-shape look on my face. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“We’ll talk later,” I say, averting my eyes as I brush past him.

He grabs my arm in a vice grip and pulls me back to him. “What did he say to you?”

I blink back stinging tears. “Won told him a medical unit evacuated Owen.”

Sven’s face blanches. “So he is alive.”

I give a helpless shrug. “Maybe. Either way, we’re leaving tomorrow night, with or without Jerome. Until then, guard Sook with your life. If Owen’s alive, we might be forced to trade for him.”

Sven’s gaze burns into me. “If he’s alive, we’ll find him, trust me.”

I flash him a quick smile of thanks, then make my way back into the barn in a daze. Sook’s startling revelation overwhelms every coherent thought in my head. Tucker dashes out to meet me, tail wagging at full speed. He jumps up and I rub his warm belly, comforting myself in the process.

Trout’s seated at the dining table, a steaming bowl of stew in front of him. I slump into the chair beside him. He looks up at me questioningly, his spoon halfway to his lips. I throw a quick glance around the room, and then tell him what Sook said. “Don’t say anything to the others,” I say. “I don’t want Nikki to get her hopes up if it isn’t true.”

Trout rubs his fingers awkwardly over his knuckle stump. “It could be good news, right?”

“We’ll find out.”

Neither of us dares voice what we’re really thinking. What if Lyong has subjected Owen to his cybernetics experimentation? Kept him alive for his own sinister purposes?

Trout gestures at the cast-iron pot in the middle of the table. “You should eat something. We’ve got a long hike ahead of us.”

My stomach twists. “I’m not hungry. Think I’ll turn in early. See you tomorrow.”

I crawl into my bunk and jam my knees up against my chin. Tucker jumps up and settles in beside me. Like every other night since we left the Craniopolis, I run through a myriad of questions about Owen’s fate in my brain. If he is alive, I can’t even begin to imagine what he’s going through. Is he in pain? Sedated? I jam my fist to my lips so as not to groan out loud. My thoughts turn to Brock. If they’re together, Brock’s bound to tell Owen about our plans. Maybe that will give him something to hold onto for a few more days. I roll onto my side. It feels strange not to fall asleep in total darkness, like in the bunkers. Strange, but a good reminder that morning always comes.

M
y eyelids flutter
. For a moment I think I’m dreaming, but then I realize someone is yelling in my ear. I rub my eyes, and peer out from under my blanket.

“Derry! Wake up!” Trout stares at me wide-eyed. “Blade’s on his way back in!”

“
B
lade
?” I blink in confusion, pushing the fog of sleep from my brain. I throw off my blanket, ignoring Tucker’s protesting whine, and swing my legs over the edge of the bunk.

“He’s headed this way. One of the lookouts spotted him.”

“Anyone with him?” I ask, rubbing my hands briskly over my face.

Trout hesitates. “He’s alone, but he’s armed.”

I dig my fingernails into my palms, willing myself to wake up fully. “That doesn’t make sense.” I frown at Trout. “If he couldn’t convince the Rogues to join him, where did he get the gun?”

“I guess we’re about to find out.”

I reach down for my boots. “You stay!” I command Tucker. He gives a resigned whimper, and then flops back down on his paws.

My stomach growls. I briefly consider dashing into the kitchen to grab a hunk of jerky, but Trout’s stomping impatiently at the door. I slip out after him, my teeth chattering in the brisk, dawn air. A ragged swag of clouds blurs the sun’s first rays. I must have slept for close to twelve hours.
Tonight
, I remind myself in a sober whisper. We leave tonight.

“Where’s Jakob?” I ask, matching my stride to keep pace with Trout.

“He went ahead with Jody to the main gate.”

“And Sven?”

Trout throws me a nettled look. “Guarding Sook, like you told him to.”

I say nothing, but I’ve a sneaking suspicion Trout might have told him not to come.

By the time we reach the watchtower, my blood’s pumping and I’m finally beginning to warm up. I make a beeline for Jerome and Jakob, huddled in conversation with the guards. “Are you sure it’s Blade?” I ask.

“You tell me,” Jerome says, handing me his binoculars.

I peer through a gap in the mangled barricade of concrete and steel. A lone figure marches toward the city, a gun swinging from his shoulder. He’s got a dark skull cap pulled down low over his eyes, but I can tell immediately it’s Blade by his slouching gait. “That’s him,” I say, handing the binoculars back. “Let’s see what he has to say for himself. If he’s coming back inside, he’s handing over that weapon.”

“Might be a good sign that he’s armed,” Trout says. “If the Rogues gave him the gun, that means they’re in.”

I arch a brow in his direction. “Don’t assume anything. Blade could have killed for that gun.”

“Or it could be a set up,” Jerome says. “The Rogues might be planning some kind of attack once we open up the gate for Blade.”

We fall silent as Blade approaches the container gate. The guards in the watchtower train their guns on him. The rest of us hunker down behind steel girders, peeking through the barricade. There’s no sign of the other Rogues. It’s so still, I can hear the crunch of Blade’s boots in the rubble as he draws closer.

Ten feet from the gate, he comes to a standstill, legs astride, and grins up at the guards. “Don’t you boys go getting all trigger-happy up there. You ain’t heard what I got to say yet.”

“Spit it out, Blade!” I yell to him. “Are the Rogues in, or not?”

He throws back his head and laughs, a hard, contemptuous cackle that racks his frame. “You’re one tough little vixen, aren’t you?” He sniffs, then wipes the back of his hand across his nose.

“Answer the question,” I call through the girders.

“Lay off yelling at me. Open the dang gate so we can talk.”

Trout and Jakob exchange uncertain glances.

I do a quick gut check, then nod at Jerome. “Bring him in. If he’s acting this cocky, he’s got something from the Rogues to put on the table.”

Jerome signals up to the guards in the watchtower.

The graffitied container gate groans as it retracts. Blade throws a quick glance over his shoulder, and then struts through, an expression of mock hurt on his face when he sees the weapons pointed his way.

“Hand over your gun,” Jerome says.

Blade smirks. “See, that ain’t how it works no more. We’re all fighting on the same side now.”

“Are you saying the Rogues are in?” Jerome asks.

“I’m here to talk about it.” Blade rubs his belly. “First thing on my mind is a standup breakfast worthy of a visiting dignitary, then you get the lowdown on our new partnership.”

I raise my rifle and aim it at him. “Take another step, and you’ll be dead before you hit the ground.”

He fixes his eyes on me, a sneer etched across his face. “I ain’t lookin’ to hurt no one.”

“Hand over the gun, Blade.” I stare at him until the sneer slides from his lips. He pulls the rifle strap from his shoulder and flings his gun toward the barricade. I ignore him and gesture to one of the guards to retrieve it. We don’t have time to waste on Blade’s stupid mind games. I need to find out what the Rogues are proposing.

Blade swaggers along in our midst, loose-limbed and grinning brazenly, as we make our way to the courthouse. Whatever he has up his sleeve, he’s mistaken if he thinks there’s been any hint of a power shift between us. He’s not the one calling the shots, and I intend to make sure he knows it.

Inside the main meeting room in the courthouse, Jerome’s men pull chairs up to a large wooden table. Blade helps himself to a seat and drapes his arm over the back of it. “What you all waiting for?”

One by one, we line up our weapons and packs against the wall and take a seat. Two armed Undergrounders stand guard at the door. Jerome sends a couple of his men off to scrounge up some breakfast.

“I wanna see my brother,” Blade says.

“There’s no family reunion in the cards until you start talking,” I say.

Blade leans back on his chair and peers at the faces around him through half-closed eyes. “Let me put you suckers outta your misery. Your little refuge center is under surveillance.”

“We already know that,” Jerome says, with an impatient flick of his wrist. “How many subversives are out there?”

Blade raises his scarred brow. “Sixty odd. All the Rogues. The Slicers split.”

“Is The Ghost here too?” Trout asks.

Blade runs his tongue over his lips. “Said all, didn’t I?”

“Did you present our proposal?” I ask.

Blade stretches out and rubs his belly again. “Where’s the dang food at? A man can’t talk on an empty belly.”

Trout throws me a helpless look. I clench my fists beneath the table. It’s clear Blade has no intention of capitulating to our timetable. It won’t do any good to heckle him, not until his rotten belly’s full of eggs.

“Why is The Ghost here?” I ask.

Blade laughs. “You’d a found out soon enough, but lucky for you all, I talked him outta it.”

“Talked him out of
what
?”

“He figured the snitches were coming from the city.” Blade leans across the table and beams at me, an ugly twist to his mouth. “He was fixing to lay siege to your festering settlement and burn it to the ground.”

An icy tingle runs down my spine.

Jerome slams his fist on the table. “If he as much as strikes a match within a mile of here, I’ll hunt him down and fry him first!”

I frown at Blade. “Did you tell him the snitches are bootlegged clones?”

His lips spread wide. “Told him we had a prime specimen right here. Best o’ the best. He was
real
keen to meet him. He even—”

He hesitates, looking over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps in the corridor. Several Undergrounders enter the room laden down with trays. Saliva pools beneath my tongue at the smell of scrambled eggs, fresh bread, and steaming mugs of tea.

Blade instantly loses all interest in our conversation and attacks the food. For several minutes we shovel down slabs of bread and forkfuls of eggs, the only sound the scraping of knives on plates. Acid churns in my stomach, but I know better than to push Blade before he’s ready to talk.

When he’s finally satisfied, he smacks his lips together and burps loudly. “That hit the spot.”

I lay down my knife and fork and look across at him. “So where does The Ghost stand on our proposal?”

Blade runs a fingertip over his half-missing brow. “He likes how you think. But he has to know you ain’t gonna double-cross him. He’s gonna need to strike that deal in person.”

“Then why didn’t he come with you?”

Blade picks at something between his teeth. “He wants to meet outside the city. Gets antsy, The Ghost does, on the wrong side of barbed wire and barricades, if you know what I mean.”

Jerome shakes his head. “I won’t do this on his terms. If he wants to be a part of this, he needs to come here to us and negotiate.”

Blade shoves his chair out from the table and belches again as he slides a glance in my direction. “What’s it gonna be? Dang rude of me to eat and run, but I gotta deliver your answer in person.”

My heart pounds. “You’re going back out there? What about Rummy?”

He grins. “The Ghost’s kinda prickly ’bout being kept waiting.”

“We’re not on his clock,” I retort.

A scowl twists across Blade’s face. “You are now. Midnight’s the deadline. Bring Sook and Rummy. Or the city burns.”