Rebel (11 page)

“Fine. Fifteen.” Micah’s face relaxed and I could almost feel the crowd doing the same.

“Everyone under the age of fifteen, back to camp,” Micah said. He cast a quick glance back at me. “For today.” He cocked his head like he dared me to say something about that. I stared at him.

I turned and headed in Callum’s direction. Maybe I’d train Under-sixties. I could use some of their optimism and talkativeness today.

“So.” Micah’s voice made me stop and when I turned around, he clapped his hands together and grinned at me. “Want to do a demonstration first?”

“A demonstration?” I repeated.

“Could be fun, right?” he asked, a challenge behind every word. “Show them how it’s done?”

Excitement zipped through my chest as I met his gaze. It had been a long time since I’d sparred with a Reboot so close to my number and skill. Not since Riley left.

“Of course,” I said. Micah’s smirk grew bigger, but I could see the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. He was sure of his ability to win. I pushed back a smile of my own.

He pulled off his sweatshirt and to reveal a T-shirt underneath, and the Reboots immediately began to move back. They left a huge, wide space for us.

“No weapons, no neck breaks,” Micah said. “Everything else is fair game. We go until one of us is down for five seconds.”

I nodded, taking a quick scan of the crowd. There was a hint of excitement in the air, but several Reboots looked worried. They couldn’t have been worried about us getting hurt, so it was something else bothering them.

Micah walked closer to me. Some of the excitement was
gone, his brow set in a hard, firm line. He was serious about this challenge.

For a moment, I considered letting him win. He clearly needed to solidify his place as leader in the reservation, and proving he was a better fighter than me would go a long way toward that goal. It might even help me gain some of his trust.

But I’d never let anyone win. I’d rarely lost at all.

I stretched out my fingers and then balled them into fists. I didn’t want to lose today, either.

“Riley? Want to count us down?” Micah asked without looking at him.

“Three . . . two . . . one. Go.”

Neither of us moved. I’d been waiting for him to rush me, so I could sidestep him and possibly grab an arm to break. A corner of his mouth turned up. He’d been waiting for the same thing.

“It’s not a staring contest,” Riley said from behind me, his voice tinged with amusement.

Micah took a swing at me, like he thought I’d be distracted by Riley’s voice. I smiled as I easily ducked it.

He took a step back before I’d even had a chance to fully straighten. His strength wasn’t his speed or force, it was his patience and ability to assess the situation. He hadn’t underestimated me because of my size.

I took one quick step forward, throwing my left hook into his face and heading for his stomach with my right fist. He
blocked the former and let out a slight wheeze as I connected with his gut.

His hands were up and he began throwing punches hard and fast, matching mine. I ducked and blocked and almost hit the dirt when he connected with my cheek. He had the second-hardest punch I’d ever felt. The number one honor still belonged to Riley.

He dove suddenly and wrapped his arms around my legs. I hit the ground with a grunt and Micah slammed my shoulders down with his hands, easily pinning me down with the full weight of his body.

I’d always hated being pinned.

I kicked him dangerously close to the crotch and he flew off of me with a gasp. I darted from his reach before his hand could close around my ankle. A few people cheered and I took a quick glance back at the crowd. Had they cheered for Micah? I hadn’t been paying attention.

He was already charging for me as I sprang to my feet and I almost laughed. Apparently his patience didn’t last long. I ducked as he swung, whipping around to smash a punch into his side. His rib made a noise as it cracked.

He stumbled slightly and I swung again, cracking his nose this time. He blinked like he was disoriented, but I knew as soon as I felt his foot slam into my knee that he wasn’t, not even a little bit.

It was broken, and I hopped away on one foot before placing
the other back on the ground and pushing back the pain that screamed up my left leg.

Micah paused, looking from my knee to my face. “Damn,” he said with a chuckle.

I grinned, gesturing with my head for him to come to me.

“Why don’t you hop over here?” he said with a smirk, taking a step back.

I laughed despite myself. I’d never fought without HARC watching my every move to make sure I wasn’t having fun. It was strange, especially since I wasn’t sure I liked Micah any better than I’d liked most of the HARC humans.

Micah laughed and I bolted forward, dragging my bad leg slightly behind me. His eyes widened in surprise but I already had his arm in my grasp. I swung him around and yanked the arm back as quickly as I could.

I sort of liked the sound of bones breaking. It was like home.

He wasn’t smiling anymore and I caught the hint of anger on his face as he began swinging again. It was quiet as we moved around the circle punching and dodging.

When I saw the opportunity to get him on the ground I took it. I swept his legs out from under him and he gasped as something cracked as he hit the dirt. He scrambled to his knees and I punched him as hard as I could, the moment he was on his feet.

He bounced up again before I could blink. He swung at me wildly and I took a small step back before aiming for the exact place I needed on his legs. I dove forward, my leg screaming
in pain as I landed on my knees in front of him. I drove my palm into the spot where he was already injured, and while he screamed, slammed my foot into his other knee.

He collapsed on the ground. His fingers dug into the grass and he pulled himself halfway up before collapsing again and waving a hand. He let out a giant breath. “I give.”

It was silent for a few seconds before a few nervous giggles broke the tension. I turned to see Callum doing something between a wince and a smile. I wiped at my mouth and came away with blood.

“I told you,” Riley said, appearing next to me and putting his hands on his hips as he looked down at Micah. “Didn’t I say you’d get your ass kicked?”

“Next time you’re doing the demonstration,” Micah said, pointing at him. He managed a chuckle.

“All right. That’s fine, I’m used to Wren kicking my ass.”

I rolled my eyes at him. He’d actually won plenty of times. Okay, maybe not plenty. Like, ten percent of the time. Still, not bad.

I turned around to see Callum in front of me. His face scrunched as he lifted up his shirt to wipe off my face. He gave me an amused look as he swiped the garment across my mouth.

“What about you?” Riley asked, squinting at Callum. “You want to do a demonstration next time? You’re probably used to Wren beating the crap out of you.”

Callum laughed softly, his gaze on me. “I think I’ll pass.”

I smiled at him and he leaned down to kiss my cheek. Training felt like a hundred years ago, and my stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought of hitting Callum. I still felt a little sick whenever I thought about the time I’d beaten him up.

“You care if I skip out on this?” he asked softly. “I think they could use some help back at the reservation today.”

I shook my head. “No, go. You don’t need any more training.”

He gave me a grateful look and leaned down to kiss me before heading back toward the reservation.

“All right,” Micah said, grunting as he got to his feet. “Pair off.” He nodded to me. “Let’s get to work.”

Riley was waiting for me when we finished later that afternoon, letting the crowd file back to the reservation without him as I pulled on my sweater and tied my hair in a ponytail.

“I’m glad to see you’re still being difficult and pissing people off,” Riley said with a grin as I approached him.

“I was never difficult,” I said, a smile playing on my lips.

“No? I seem to remember a ‘I’ll stop punching you when you start ducking faster’ conversation not long before I left.”

“It’s not my fault you got slow in your old age.” Old age being nineteen, as he was only twenty now.

He laughed, which was still a weird sound to me, coming from him. He must have been so unhappy at HARC. I’d never really noticed.

“You could’ve at least let me know you weren’t dead, by the way,” I said. “I was actually kind of sad about that.”

His expression softened. “That’s a pretty incredible sentiment, coming from you.”

I frowned at him in response and he sighed.

“I’m sorry. Honestly, I wasn’t a hundred percent certain you wouldn’t rat me out.”

“Thanks for that.”

“You know how it was. You were their girl. You did everything they said, without question. I thought you even kind of liked it there.”

“I did,” I said softly. “I wouldn’t have ratted you out, though.”

He studied me for a moment. “I apologize, then.”

I sighed as I slid my hands into my pockets. “It’s all right. I can’t totally blame you. Things were different before Callum.” And Ever. But my throat closed every time I said her name aloud, and I didn’t think Riley would remember her anyway.

“So, Callum, huh? You trained a Twenty-two?”

“Yes.”

“May I ask why? Or did you start picking all your trainees based on level of cuteness?”

I shot him a look. “He asked me to.”

“He asked you to? Well, shit. If I’d known that was the way to get you to do things, I would have tried that a long time ago.”

I covered my mouth with the backs of my fingers as I tried
not to laugh, but one came through anyway. “It wouldn’t work as well coming from you, Riley.”

He grinned. “Awww, you’ve become all soft and mushy. It’s cute.”

“I’d be happy to show you how soft and mushy my fist is
not
, if you’d like a reminder.”

“I’m going to pass on that offer, but thank you.”

I smiled at him, watching as the Reboots over his shoulder disappeared inside the reservation walls. Everyone was out of earshot, and Riley glanced around as if noticing it, too.

“You like it here?” I asked quietly.

He cocked his head, his face becoming more serious. “In a way. It’s better than HARC.”

No argument there. “Micah. He’s . . . intense.”

“He is.” Riley seemed to be choosing his words carefully, studying my face as he considered each one. “You guys don’t seem to be getting along terribly well.”

“We’re civil. I did notice that some of the Reboots here seem sort of scared of him.”

“I guess they are.” Riley squinted. “I mean, yeah, they are. He kind of rules with an iron fist. Thinks it’s the best way to keep us safe.”

“You agree?”

“Sometimes.” He glanced behind him, then back to me. “You heard about the group that split off and got killed last year?”

“Yeah.”

“That happened right after I got here. I arrived at the reservation and it was chaos. A bunch of them got together and decided they were tired of the way Micah was running things. They stopped returning their hunting weapons and staged a revolt one day.”

I lifted my eyebrows. Micah had conveniently left that part out.

“Yeah,” Riley said, noticing my surprised expression. “We’re not supposed to talk about it. In fact, if you could not mention to Micah that I shared I’d appreciate it.”

I nodded in agreement. They weren’t allowed to talk about it? That was weird. “What happened?”

“The revolt didn’t really go that well,” Riley said. “They were mostly the older generation and kids, people who’d never been at HARC, and a bunch of the higher numbers who’d escaped from HARC or Rebooted here, immediately backed up Micah. So they left instead.”

“And Micah just let them go?”

“At that point, yeah. They weren’t exactly welcome anymore, you know? Then it’s only a few weeks later, we’re on a hunt over in one of the old cities and we find them all dead, along with a few bodies of HARC officers. After that, no one was going to risk speaking out against Micah.” He gestured to the reservation. “This is really the only safe place for us.”

That might have been true, unfortunately.

“You’re sure it was HARC?” I asked. “Micah wouldn’t . . .”

Riley shook his head. “It was definitely HARC. And Micah hates them way too much to tip them off. He planned on finding the group again after the humans were taken care of.”

At least that was something. The thought had been in the back of my head since Callum had told me how scared Isaac was of him.

“I think Micah’s pretty terrified of you and all the new Reboots, to be honest,” Riley continued.

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re challenging everything.” He gestured to me. “You’re refusing to train kids and asking questions and Micah doesn’t really appreciate that. Since the revolt, everyone has done exactly what he says.”

“You included?” I asked. “Or do you often have trouble finding humans that are only half a mile away from you?”

The edges of his mouth twitched. “I often have trouble, yes.” He ran a hand through his light hair. “I don’t like doing it. It reminds me of being at HARC.”

“I don’t blame you.” I studied him. “So when the time comes to kill all the humans in the cities . . .”

He shrugged, scrunching his face up. “I don’t know. Part of me hoped it would never happen. But now with all these new Reboots, I don’t think it can be stopped. Micah’s getting a group together for a trip to Austin tonight, which means he’s about ready to go in. He arranged a meeting with Tony and Desmond
to get some fuel. And apparently they have information for us.”

“Tony and Desmond do?” I asked in surprise.

“Yeah.”

“How do you guys communicate with them?”

“Radio,” he said.

“And HARC doesn’t listen in?”

“They very well might. But we use codes.”

Guilt zipped through my chest and I let out a small sigh. I hated feeling indebted to Tony and Desmond, but I felt ill at the prospect of letting Micah use them like this. Maybe Callum was right about one part of his plan—we needed to try and warn them.