The Legend (8 page)

 

chapter 11

H
e had left me then, alone in the dojo, with nothing but my emotions for company. The more I thought about it, the more I felt the sting of remorse. I had hurt Morgan – really hurt her. And I had tried my utmost to do the same to Reed . . . Reed, of all people! The one person who has stood by me, supported me all this time. And I had pushed Aidan right back into Sofia's arms. I hadn't wanted to choose, and instead I had lost them both. I have let Kenneth Williams' actions poison my mind. Aidan is right, I am becoming a monster. I don't know how to let go of the dark, black anger that is my driving force, but I cannot let Kenneth win. I wonder if I am losing my mind – the constant struggle between being who I want to be, and who I have become, is driving me crazy. As I leave the dojo I am filled with disgust at the way I have been behaving, and fear that I might not be able to stop.

I lie low for the next two days, spending half of my time training and the other half with Alex. Early in the morning on the day of our departure, as we are packing the vehicles for Missouri, my dad seeks me out.

“The DNA matches,” he murmurs. “Reed is Brooke's father.”

“I knew it.” I glance across to where Reed is loading fuel into one of the military Humvees we had stolen from a NUSA convoy a few months ago. “Don't tell him now,” I add. “He's got enough on his plate. We'll do it when we get back.” My dad nods curtly and then turns away.

“Dad,” I grab his arm and pull him back, hugging him tightly. “I'm sorry for how I have been acting. I . . . when I get back, I'm going to make it up to everyone.”

He ruffles my hair fondly. “You just be safe, Bex.”

Kneeling, I squeeze Alex so hard that he grumbles in my ear.

“I love you,” I smile and he tells me he loves me too. No matter how many times I leave him, it never gets any easier. Aidan is standing beside him, and I get to my feet to face him.

“Thank you.” I want to say something more, to tell him that he got through to me, that I am determined to be better, but the words die on my lips. “I'll see you both soon,” I murmur, and then I get into the driver's seat of my Discovery.

Adam and a few of his Ordinary are also packing up two of our older Jeeps. Adam is still scouring the barren lands for survivors, determined to save as many people as he can. He is good at it. Last week he returned with three men and an old woman,
who are being cared for and rehabilitated. Apparently he has recruited my father's cousin Cathy, and she is assisting him in integrating the Deranged that he rescues into the Gainesville community. I have not yet ventured beyond the Academy grounds, but there is a large
population residing in the area. They have been here since the war, and it was in this very town that Reed grew up.

Reed's long denim-clad legs disappear into the Humvee and then the enormous vehicle emits a deep, rumbling growl as it pulls out of the drive. We have not spoken since our fight two days ago and everything that happened is weighing heavily on my heart. I vow that despite the dark place I succumbed to, I will make amends. Morgan, Michael and Jethro are travelling with Reed, along with four members of the raid team who will distract the guards at the fences. I have Chase, Archer and Kwan with me. The balance of the raid team is travelling in the second Humvee that pulls out behind me – eight men, including Quinn, Kenneth Williams' nephew. I had expressed my reservations about using Quinn in this raid, given his prior loyalty to his uncle, but Reed had been with Quinn on the last raid and he assured me that Quinn's allegiance was with the Legion. If anything, Quinn was even more angry about Kenneth's deception, given that he is family. The raid team consists of twelve men, the largest team to date, but we will need every single one of them to take down a section of the fence large enough to sneak our group through. With any luck, by the time it's over the NUSA guards will believe it was just another raid to take out a few soldiers and then retreat.

We drive through the day, covering over four hundred miles before nightfall. The Unit Nine camp is a small rebel camp in Jackson, Tennessee. Tomorrow we will cross the Mississippi into Arkansas, and then head north to attack the Missouri boundary fence. We cannot simply cross over from Tennessee because the Mississippi River acts as a natural boundary and we would be seen by the NUSA scouts patrolling there. We will cross the river out in the Rebeldom and then enter Missouri from the south.

The Unit Nine camp, like all the rebel bases, is rustic but practical. Having driven all day, with only a few restroom stops, my legs are cramping and it feels good to stretch them. We check through the camp, lighting a few lanterns as we go. This site is not as isolated as some of our others, being in the town itself, and we station eight guards at four lookout points, two per point, to keep an eye out. They will take the first shift and then others will replace them. I am due to go on watch only in a few hours' time and after a hasty meal that lacks all of Veronica's cooking prowess I bid a brief goodnight to the men and make my way to my allocated room. I have managed to avoid Reed up until now, but I can feel his eyes on my back as I walk away.

I almost expect him to follow me, as he has done so many times before. In truth, I am not sure if I want him to or not. My remorse over my actions the other day is growing and I feel ashamed at the way I behaved. I don't deserve his forgiveness, but I do crave it. As the time passes and my eyes grow heavy, I resign myself to the fact that he is not coming. I have pushed him too far.

“Rebecca.” Quinn shakes me awake. “We should get going.” I blink to find that I can see him perfectly in the light of day. I have slept through my watch.

“Why didn't anyone wake me?”

“McCoy said to leave you. He took the watch on his own.”

I dress quickly and tie my hair back into a ponytail before going in search of Reed.

“Look, I know you don't want to be around me, but you can't jeopardise the safety of this camp because of our personal issues. You could just have paired me off with someone else.”

“You see any takers?” He raises his brow and I cast a quick look around. Nobody will meet my eyes. “Anyway,” he changes the subject abruptly, “I have no problem standing guard with you, Rebecca, but you looked pretty shattered when we arrived last night. I thought you could use the rest.” I cannot tell if he is being sincere or making excuses, but I assume it's the latter.

By eight o'clock we are on the road again, and by ten we reach the old Harahan Bridge. The broad expanse of the Mississippi River stretches before us. We can see the Memphis and Arkansas Bridge four hundred feet south of us and, between them, the smaller Frisco Bridge.

“What do you think?” I ask Reed, both of us staring at the small group of Deranged clustered somewhere near the middle of the Harahan Bridge.

“Let's go around, take that one.” He indicates the bridge further south. The Deranged are no match for our abilities, but Adam has made us view them differently. We will not hurt any Deranged if we can help it.

“Do you think it's sound?”

“Probably more so than this one, it's bigger and it looks a lot newer.”

“I'll go across first,” I tell the gathered group a few minutes later. “If anything happens, we'll go back and try the other one. After you fish me out, of course.” I make a feeble attempt at humour that nobody finds remotely funny. The drop into the river below is probably about a hundred feet. With my exceptional Gifts I would probably survive the fall, but I doubt I would remain conscious long enough to haul myself out of the Discovery.

Reed heads around to the passenger side.

“Should I even try and argue with you on this?” I have known Reed long enough to know that he is coming along, no matter what I say.

“Nope,” he slams the door.

“I'll follow you on foot,” Kwan steps forward. “I'll keep a safe distance. If anything goes wrong, I'll get you out.”

“I'll join you.” Jethro steps in line beside him.

“Thanks,” I nod, climbing in beside Reed.

The Memphis and Arkansas Bridge spans a distance of over five thousand feet and I drive infinitely slowly across it, on high alert for any sign that the bridge might give way.

“The Humvee is a lot heavier,” Reed points out unnecessarily.

“I figure it'll hold,” I reply. “There doesn't seem to be any structural hazard. This bridge will probably still be standing in another hundred years. But rather safe than sorry.”

“I didn't think that word featured in your vocabulary,” he remarks.

“What, safe?” I tease.

“Sorry.”

“I know what you meant.”

We both stiffen as the bridge emits a small creak. In the side mirrors I can see Kwan and Jethro walking on the sidewalk, on the other side of the concrete barriers that separate the sidewalks from the traffic lanes.

“It's only the joins between the spans,” Reed offers after a minute of silence.

“Good to know.”

I focus on the road and we lapse into an awkward silence.

“It is in my vocabulary,” I say eventually.

“Hmmm?” He seems to pull himself back from far away.

“Sorry – it is in my vocabulary.”

“Maybe you should use it more often.”

“Don't you think I know that? I do, Reed, but I can't snap myself out of this . . . this place that I'm in. I can't think of anything else right now but revenge. I want to kill them all, and I want them to suffer for what they did.” It feels good to finally admit it to someone.

“Believe me, we're on the same page. They will suffer for what they did to you.” He meets my eyes and in that brief moment I see my own anger reflected in the green. With startling clarity it dawns on me that he is just as angry as I am – he simply hides it better. “But you need to focus, Rebecca. Channel that anger and use it. Distancing yourself from your own people isn't going to get you any closer to your end goal. You need them. You need
me
,” he adds, without a trace of arrogance. It's the truth, after all. We both know that he is my ultimate soldier.

“I do need you,” I admit, “but I don't want to be with you. I just can't have any distractions at the moment.”

“You know what I think? I think that being torn between the two of us is only fuelling your frustration. I think it's a big part of why you are in this place you're in.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“Really? Think about it – could you choose? If faced with an ultimatum, forced to choose between us. Could you do it?” A fleeting truth occurs to me, but I shove it out of my mind so quickly that I could have imagined it and I remain silent. “You couldn't, could you?”

“I made my choice, I chose you. But that was before . . . I'm not the same person now.”

“I'm no fool, Rebecca. Why do you think I left you? You chose me, but your heart was torn between us from the moment he walked through that crowd and you realised he was alive. Before that, even.” I have never heard him speak with such earnestness.

“Is this what you two have been discussing behind my back?” I smile, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

“We don't talk about you as much as you seem to think,” he mocks, “but he's not as bad as I thought.”

“So, did you tell him? About the other day?” The day I jumped your bones, I add in my head.

“A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, Rebecca. That would be playing dirty.”

“You once said you would fight dirty to keep me.”

“That was when you had me believing I wouldn't need to.”

“I'm sorry,” I blurt out, turning to look at him. He waits patiently. “I'm sorry I made you feel that you had to leave. I'm sorry for how I've been acting – for what I did to Morgan. I'm sorry for what I said to you. I'm sorry for taking advantage of you . . .” I flush scarlet but he interrupts.

“You really don't have to apologise for that last one, Tiny. I wasn't complaining,” he drawls but I refuse to be sidetracked.

“And I'm sorry about the baby. I'm sorry I didn't tell you and I'm so, so sorry that I couldn't save . . .”

“No!” he yells, so loudly that I give a start of fright and slam on the brakes. We are both thrown forward and I hit the horn with my chest. Reed quickly eases himself through his open window and yells to Jethro and Kwan, who are now running towards us.

“It's fine, everything is fine! Woman driver!” he concludes, and I can see them laughing as they slow to a walk.

I wait for him to get back in his seat and then I ease my foot back on the gas.

“Let me make this very simple, Tiny.” His voice is low and serious. “You don't ever apologise for that. The rest, yes – you've been a super bitch and you owe a lot of people an apology – but that? That's on me.”

I can feel the heat in my face and my emotions are spinning wildly, but rather than get into an argument, I keep my thoughts to myself.

 

chapter 12

W
e make it across the bridge without incident and I watch as the first Humvee moves onto the other side, a minuscule black shape in the distance.

Jethro and Kwan are talking amiably with Reed, and I shield my eyes against the sun as I stand with my back to the three of them. Twenty minutes later we are once again on our way.

“We should make Corning just after lunch.” Archer is consulting the map. Corning, a city in Clay County, Arkansas, is only seven miles from the Missouri border boundary fences, which run along the old State Line Road. Our plan is to attack the fence tonight, under the cover of darkness. That leaves us the afternoon to prepare. “Or not,” Archer adds a moment later and I brake as the Humvee comes to a halt. I groan in frustration at the yellow and black signage strewn around us.

“You have got to be kidding me.” I get out of the car and Kwan joins me as we walk over to the Humvee.

“It's a construction site,” Reed says as he leans out of the window. “Must have been in the middle of some major roadworks before the bombs went off and everything went to hell.”

“Can we get through?” I ask, casting dubious glances at the heavy construction vehicles blocking our path. “It could go on for miles; maybe we should try to find a way around?”

“Nah, we'll get through,” he grins, gunning the powerful engine.

Our progress is painstakingly slow as we manoeuvre around numerous blockades and navigate the half-complete site. Reed, who is nudging objects out of our way, is the only one who is having fun. I watch the digital clock on the dash and curse as the minutes stretch into hours, all hopes of our attacking the fences tonight disappearing. We finally hit clear road again shortly before nightfall. It is only another hour's drive to Corning, but it is too late to prepare, which means we lose another full day tomorrow.

“Damn it,” I mutter.

“Things happen for a reason, Rebecca,” Chase mumbles from the back seat. He has been dozing on and off for the past few hours.

There is no Rebel camp in Corning – it would have been foolish to set up a base so close to the boundary fences. This would not have presented a problem if we hadn't been delayed, but now we need to find somewhere to rest for the night. I follow Reed's Humvee as we make our way through the city, heading north. When we reach the outskirts, the houses are few and far between and eventually Reed pulls into the drive of a large, double-storey house. Chase wakes with a start as we come to a standstill, and he yawns widely as Archer opens his door and gets out of the Discovery. Chase follows right behind him, but as Kwan makes to open his own door beside me, I put a hand on his arm.

“We need to talk,” I explain, and he settles back in his seat, turning slightly to face me. “I want to apologise for how I've been acting. I know that an apology doesn't fix everything, but you and I have been friends for a long time. I disrespected you, and your teaching, and I wanted to say that I'm sorry.” There really is nothing more I can say, and I hold my breath as he regards me solemnly.

“It always feels good to be right,” he smiles. “I knew he would get through to you.” I glance up to find Reed watching us from beside the Humvee. “I have seen you at your best, Rebecca, and I have seen you at your worst. At your best, you can accomplish anything. But at your worst your capacity for destruction is terrifying.”

The words are cryptic and offer me no clue as to whether or not he accepts my apology, but before I can question this he opens his door and steps out onto the paved drive. “Michael shouldn't be here,” he adds quietly before closing the door.

I take the first watch, along with Archer, Jethro and Kwan. The house itself is spacious, but thick layers of dust cover every surface. There are twenty of us, but everyone finds a place to sleep. Reed refuses to share a room and he stretches out on the floor in the back of his beloved Humvee. I shake my head in the dark as I pass by it on one of my patrols and hear the soft sound of his snores. Kwan, Jethro and Archer are on watch further out, away from the house.

As I make my way around to the backyard, I glance at my watch. Only another half-hour until I can wake Quinn to relieve me. My body is stiff and I click my neck, stifling a yawn. A second later I am fully alert when I hear the sound of a twig breaking to my right. I peer into the darkness, adrenalin pumping. I relax slightly when I see Jethro approaching, but my relief is short-lived. As he gets closer, I notice his body is arched at an unnatural angle, and then he is near enough that I can clearly make out the man behind him holding a knife to his neck.

My initial thought is that he may be Deranged but on closer inspection he looks too civilised, and as he steps closer into the light I make out that he is wearing the navy blue uniform synonymous with NUSA and, judging by the way he is restraining Jethro, he is obviously strength-Gifted. This doesn't make any sense – if NUSA has found us, we would be overwhelmed with soldiers.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” I murmur, keeping my voice low. But my head is spinning, wondering where the other Legion scouts are. I need to keep Jethro's captor calm until reinforcements arrive. I am fast, but even so this stranger could slit Jethro's throat before I could get anywhere near them. Discomfited, I wonder how he managed to capture Jethro in the first place? Jethro is Gifted with speed, and he is also highly trained.

“Luckily, you're not me,” the stranger replies, pushing Jethro forward until they are standing only a few yards in front of me. In the dim light I can make out that he is tall – taller than Jethro, and pale-skinned, with a mop of unruly hair that looks black in the moonlight. “The name's Heath, by the way, Heath Lyle. What's yours?”

“Lucy,” I lie softly, not wanting to reveal my identity. I am probably the most wanted person in NUSA. “Why don't you just let him go? There are more of us, and you're barking up the wrong tree.”

“You came into
my
town,” he corrects. “And surely you don't think I'm fool enough to be acting alone?” He jerks the hand holding the knife and I follow the direction of his gesture to see Kwan and Archer being herded towards me in the same fashion, each with a knife at their necks. I wish they had approached from the front of the house, where Reed is no doubt still snoring in the Humvee.

I shift my foot ever so slightly to the left, hoping to edge close enough to Heath, who is still holding Jethro, to disarm him. Unfortunately, Heath doesn't miss a trick.

“Don't even think about it,” he warns, twisting Jethro's arm viciously. To Jethro's credit, he doesn't react.

“What do you want?” I ask, getting to the point. I don't give any indication that I am aware of his connection to NUSA.

“I told you – you're in my town. And we don't take kindly to strangers.”

“We're just passing through, we'll be gone by morning.”

“Why should I believe that?”

“It's the truth,” I snap. I am distracted because Jethro has caught my eye and I can see that he is trying to tell me something, but I cannot figure out what it is.

“There are only three of you,” I point out. “There are a lot more of us. This won't end well for you.”

He laughs, the sound louder than I expect. “There are twenty of you,” he sneers. “In fact, let's go and fetch the other one.” He yanks at Jethro and then pushes him to walk around the side of the house.

They must have been watching us since we arrived if they know how many of us are on the property. Worse still, their leader is dragging Jethro straight towards the Humvee. He obviously knows that Reed is inside.

“Open the door,” he hisses, beckoning me forward and I hesitate for only a second. They have the upper hand, there is nothing else for it. I yank open the door and step aside.

“Where is he?” Heath demands, and I peer into the Humvee. Reed is gone.

“Let them go,” I repeat, feeling more confident. Heath and his companions are unnerved by Reed's disappearance. I glance around but it is impossible to see anything through the gloomy darkness.

“What's going on?” Quinn's voice calls from the direction of the house and we all turn to see him standing on the porch steps, his eyes wide with shock at the unexpected sight before him.

“Don't move,” Heath says, louder than before. Woken by the sound of voices, the other members of the Legion file out behind him. Heath emits a low, shrill whistle and the hair on the back of my neck stands up as I anticipate an army moving through the trees towards us. I almost laugh out loud when a solitary figure emerges from the night to stand behind Heath.

“Four?” I ask incredulously. “There are only four of you?” His eyes narrow at the disdain in my voice. “Didn't anyone ever teach you to count?”

The words are barely out of my mouth when a dark shape rockets in from the left. A second later, Reed has his arm around Heath's neck, and Jethro is standing alone a few feet away, stunned by the unexpected turn of events.

“Never bring a knife to a gunfight,” Reed hisses in Heath's ear.

“Put your weapons down,” I urge Heath's companions, who are nervous enough that they might easily hurt one of my own. Archer and Kwan are held firmly in their grip, proof that these are no ordinary men. Kwan is speed-Gifted, but he is also a deadly warrior. The fact that he is being pinned so easily leads me to believe that the man restraining him must be incredibly strong.

“Every one of my men is Gifted,” I call across to Heath. I would bet money, if I had any, on the fact that he thought we were ordinary outcasts when he decided to attack us, but once he realised the lookouts he had taken hostage were Gifted, there was not much else he could do but continue. Heath doesn't answer, but he looks a little nervous.

The silence is broken by a sudden scuffle as Heath tries to wrest himself from Reed's grip. He slams his fist up into Reed's face and twists violently. It is an impressive effort, but a second later Reed has him pinned again. The look on Heath's face is priceless – no doubt he has never come up against an opponent with the Power of Three.

“Let my men go and you will come to no harm,” I say.

“Who are you people?”

“It doesn't matter who we are. The point is we're stronger and you, my friend, are seriously outnumbered.”

The man holding Kwan suddenly lifts his right arm and points at me, an expression of shock and recognition dawning over his face.

“It's her!” he gasps, drawing the attention of his team mates. “It's Rebecca Dane!” His surprise is his undoing. Taking full advantage of his loosened hold, Kwan strikes like a cobra, twisting in his fragile grasp and bringing a knife hand to the back of his neck. The man drops like a stone, knocked unconscious.

The last man holding a knife drops it with a dull thud at his feet and steps away from Archer as Heath gazes down at his fallen comrade.

“He'll be fine,” I assure him.

“Oliver has never been the brightest,” he remarks drily. “So, is it true?” He turns to face me. “Are you Rebecca Dane?”