The Rift Uprising (31 page)

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Authors: Amy S. Foster

BOOK: The Rift Uprising
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“Ezra, grab his keys; they'll be in one of his pockets.”

Ezra drops his pack and immediately begins to search. I use the zip ties to bind the Marine's hands and feet. When Ezra finds the set in his pants, I ask him to unlock the door behind the Plexiglas. After he does, I drag the soldier back into the room and stash him under the desk. If anyone walks in, no one will be able to see him. With that done, I leave the sectioned-off room and join Ezra in front of the counter, putting my gun in the holster on my belt.

“Please tell me there was a good reason for doing that,” Ezra says with a judgmental tone that instantly makes me clench my molars.

“We needed the room,” I say as I put the pack at my feet.

Ezra looks at the pack and then back at me. “‘
We needed the
room'?
We couldn't have just talked somewhere? Jesus, Ryn.” He runs a hand slowly through his hair.

“When we get to wherever it is that we are going, we are going to have a serious discussion about Intelligence.”

Ezra narrows his eyes and crosses his arms—a harmless gesture, but one that seems aggressively directed at me.

“Not that kind of Intelligence. Spy stuff. How to signal someone, how to make a drop, how to disguise yourself, sweep a room, create code words, that kind of thing. But the first rule of spy stuff, Ezra? Don't stand in a corner and whisper. It's suspicious.”

Ezra keeps glaring.

“Why are you looking at me as if I've just killed him? I knocked him on the head. They took us and now we're escaping. What the hell did you imagine was going to happen? That we were going to skip out of here, holding hands, singing ‘Follow the Yellow Brick Road'?”

That was too harsh. I drop my shoulders and relax just a fraction. “Come on,” I say as I pull him toward me into a hug. He holds me tight. We cling to one another. I'm scared, too, but I'm used to fear. I'm used to acknowledging it and then pushing it back someplace deep enough so that it won't affect my decision making or my fighting. I am literally built this way. Ezra is not a coward, not by a long shot, but he isn't used to this.

We put our foreheads against each other and then we kiss. We kiss surrounded by guns and ammo and tear gas canisters. The room smells like oil and copper pennies. I want to keep kissing him, but there is no time. “We have to go,” I say finally, breaking away from his mouth but keeping my arms around him.

“I know, but where?”

“I made a deal with Edo,” I begin. Ezra pushes me back just a fraction to get a better look at my face. “I told her that in exchange for her help to escape the base and for her personal laptop, we would go through The Rift.”

“I want to say yes because I really want to get out of here, but I also want to say no. No. No. Please, God, no. Can I say that and not sound like a pussy?”

I put my hand on his face and smile. “That is a totally valid response and not pussy-like in the least. Just hear me out. The Roones' navigation system works. That's how they found you at my house. All the things you theorized were right. You need to leave this Earth. The safest way for you to do that would be with a Citadel. The Roones need data as to how many Rift jumps it takes for their system to lock on to a quantum energy signature, so they need a Citadel for that, too. And finally, we need to decode Edo's laptop together and try to find out if we can get a clear picture as to how much power the Roones really have. It sounds drastic. It sounds crazy, but honestly, I think it's the smartest move.”

Ezra folds his arms and sighs. “I don't know, Ryn. It's awfully risky. How do we even know for sure the technology will work on another Earth?”

“We don't. But staying here is not an option. I need Edo and the Roones on our side. The Roones will do anything to get home. They aren't the hippie Vulcans they want us to believe they are. They need us. For something. We need to figure out what that is, away from their reach. Edo handed over her laptop under the assumption that we wouldn't be able to understand the information stored on it. The more they underestimate us the better. If we stay on this Earth, we lose the advantage on several fronts.”

“I agree with you. We have to go. But . . .” Ezra says as he massages one of his temples with a couple of his fingers. “You have to tell the rest of the Citadels about the implants, about what we learned. It's not that your team isn't great, but they aren't you . . .” I can tell he's reaching for the right words, trying not to offend me or my friends. “You're a leader, Ryn. You're
the
leader and this is your story to tell. If it's not explained in the right way, it could go very, very badly.”

“I know. That's why I am going to tell everyone the truth and
then
we are going to leave.”

“Okay.” I can see Ezra putting it together. “I don't . . . how are we going to . . .”

He keeps interrupting himself because what I'm proposing makes little sense, at least to him: How can we escape on the sly but still make sure the Citadels we leave behind are safe?

I can't help but grimace. Ezra is not going to like this part of my plan any more than I like having to execute it. “You're right—there won't be any Rifting out with the kill switch still in play.” There is dead silence, and I watch Ezra's eyes change as he starts to put together what I mean.

“What are you going to do?” he asks.

“I'm going to take over the Command Center,” I say with more confidence than I feel.

“You mean
you're going to start a war.
Right now? You're going to Pearl Harbor all over this sweet little clandestine operation? Alone?”

I cock my head to the right and look to the ceiling. “It actually sounds a lot scarier and more aggressive than it will probably be?” I don't mean to put this in a form of a question, but it just kind of comes out that way. “I can neutralize everyone in Command by myself. And there's a good chance I won't have to kill anyone.”

“Seriously, Rambo? Call your friends. Why would you do that by yourself?”

I'm getting a little frustrated now. I realize we're partners, but he doesn't understand much about guerrilla warfare and I don't have the time to explain it. “I need the element of surprise, and pulling my team away from The Rift will set off alarm bells at Command. You've really got to trust me. It sucks, but I have to do it. I have to tell the others the truth and I have to make sure they're safe when I do it.”

Ezra shakes his head in annoyance. “There's no way I can talk you out of this, I know it. I'm not even going to try. So let's go before that guy wakes up and ruins whatever crazy plan you've got. Just know, for the record, I think this is fucked up—you doing this alone. But if you say you can do it, I suppose I have to trust you.”

I reach up and kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you,” I tell him, and I mean it. His faith in me is astounding. Standing beside him, I feel like I can do anything. I feel like I can make everything right because I am on the
right side
. He makes me feel like a hero. “You're going to go ahead,” I tell him. “I want you away from this base right now. I'm sure your instincts are telling you to wait for me, maybe even to help me. But honestly, Ezra, the most helpful thing you can do is get away from here so that I don't have to worry about you while I do what I have to do next. Are you okay with that?”

Ezra rolls his eyes. “Uh, no. I'm not okay with it. I hate the idea of my girlfriend going off to save the day while I hide up in a tree or some shit . . . but I will. I'm not going to let my ego put you in even more danger.”

I squeeze his hand and smile. It was the perfect thing to say.

We pick up our packs. I open the one that has all the specs and instructions about the QOINS, pull out the spiraled
papers and hand them over to Ezra. “Here,” I say as he takes them. “This will give you something to do. Memorize it and keep it safe.”

Ezra skims through the papers. Once he understands what they are, he doesn't say a word. He just hugs the packet close to his chest while adjusting the pack on his back with his one free hand. We walk out of the armory and after a few short feet, push open the double doors that take us out to the transport bay. The wind is biting and cold. The sky is flat. I walk over to a soldier. There are always at least four posted here, not just as sentries but drivers as well.

“I'm going to need you to drive this guy to the intake rendezvous point. He's doing some consulting work for us.”

“That's fine,” the soldier says, and walks toward one of the jeeps. He offers to help with the packs, but I wave him away. He goes and sits in the driver's seat while Ezra and I walk around the back to dump our packs in.

I secure the bags in the jeep and turn to Ezra. I wish I could hug him. I can't. He does lean in, though, and I catch the briefest hint of his smell, that spicy oak, which makes me sigh.

“Be careful, Ryn,
please
.” He doesn't wait for me to respond. He has already walked ahead, around the vehicle to climb into the passenger seat. I signal the driver with a thumbs-up sign that he sees in his rearview mirror. The two of them drive off and I exhale slowly. Once I do this, there is no going back. I am about to start a war and I'm doing so without backup, without input from my friends, and without the approval of my new Roonish ally, who is going to be pissed.

God, I hope I'm doing the right thing.

CHAPTER 27

I go back inside and take the elevator down to the Command level. There is a soldier posted outside the door of the Command Center. He nods.

“Open the door,” I demand.

He gives me an odd look but does as I ask. As soon as we step inside, I reach down and relieve him of the weapon in his holster and give him a kick that's hard enough to send him flying into the air before he lands on the floor headfirst in the middle of the room. I step over his unconscious body. The entire room stops and looks at me. There are about fifteen people in all. Ten are seated in front of computers and there are two armed soldiers. Applebaum is standing in front of the dozens of monitors that show The Rift site from various positions, and finally, Levi and Audrey are there, too.

Well . . . shit
.

I definitely wasn't counting on that. My mind scrambles, one thought tumbling over the next. Why would they be in this room? Levi had been tranqued, but he must have gotten the drug to counter its effects because he looks alert and ready to take me down. I wonder what Applebaum has told him. The way the colonel is looking at me, though, it's clear he anticipated my arrival—Audrey's presence is testament to that.
Well, I suppose she makes the perfect pet if you can keep the leash tight enough
.

I look over to Applebaum to try to get a read on him. He seems unfazed. More than that, he has the barest hint of a lopsided grin. “Oh, Ryn,” Applebaum says in mock sympathy. “I'm so sorry it's come to this. Sergeant Rossi? Enact the Midnight Protocol on designation 473, authorization Applebaum, Thomas. Charlie Hotel three three seven one Foxtrot Bravo.” Before I can even swing my head around to look at who he is talking to, I hear a keyboard furiously click away. Applebaum has a shit-eating grin on his face. And then . . . nothing. Applebaum's brow furrows. “Rossi! Do it!”

“I did, sir.”

I walk over to the man who just tried to kill me. I wonder if he has a family, if he's married, if he has children. I try to humanize him. It isn't easy humanizing a man who would so casually murder a seventeen-year-old girl just because he's been given an order. He didn't even hesitate. I take his head and quickly pound it hard against the keyboard. Blood spurts from his nose. I smash his head down again. The armed soldiers in the room aim their rifles at me. I don't want to have to do this. I hate having to do this, but I don't have time to tell them that they are on the wrong side. Two lives for every other Citadel on the base. It's not fair, but nothing about this situation is fair. I point the gun I have just taken from the officer
posted outside and fire off two quick rounds to the other soldiers' abdomens. They won't die right away. Stomach wounds take a long time to bleed out; they might have a chance to live if I can finish here quickly enough. Audrey begins to giggle. I'd like to shoot her next, but first things first.

“Everybody stand up, move away from your computers, and get against the wall,” I demand. Chairs scrape and I hear them scrambling to do as I say. “Oh, come on, Tom,” I say, looking right at Applebaum. “You gave us all this superior intelligence. You can't honestly be surprised I figured that one out. Then again, honesty isn't exactly in your wheelhouse.”

“Ryn, what are you doing?” Levi asks with stony intensity.

“Well, not dying, for a start, which probably bums out a lot of people in this room. Sorry.”

Applebaum hasn't moved, but his hands are up, at least. And that lopsided grin is nowhere to be found on his dumb face.

“Now, Ryn, let's talk about this. I'm sorry I had to do that, but you've lost it. You're a danger to everyone in this room. Do you really want to kill these people? I don't think you do. I think you want answers, and I can provide them to you. Just let everyone go, then you and I can sit down and I'll tell you everything you want to know.”

I sigh and cock my head. “Maybe later, 'kay? You know us Citadels—we always play hard to get.”

Levi begins to walk slowly toward me. “What's going on?” he demands.

I turn and aim the gun directly at him. “Don't take another step, Levi. Seriously. I don't know what he told you about me, but I promise you that whatever it is, it is a lie. The implants? They have a kill switch in them. Applebaum just tried to activate it, but I had mine removed. And yet I still have all of my abilities. How can that be? Well, there's a complicated explanation
for that, but the easy answer is that you all”—I swing my gun around a little bit—“are a bunch of evil fucks.”

Levi looks baffled and Applebaum is starting to sweat. Levi looks over at the colonel and, Levi being Levi, sees everything he needs to know written all over Applebaum's face. It's not just that he's angry—because obviously, being the egomaniac the colonel is, any Citadel challenging his authority would piss him off—it's that he's scared. Terrified, actually, and just a little bit guilty. Levi sees this. He's piecing it all together.
He knows
I'm right. I have to be quick now. If something comes through The Rift, the Citadels on the ground will be expecting to hear from Command.

“Audrey,” I say, focusing my attention on her, “I know you're crazy. It's cool, I get it. But I am not your enemy. ARC is the enemy. The whole ‘hurting people we want to get with'?

That was brainwashing. And not just normal run-of-the-mill mind control, either. I mean seriously messed-up stuff where they exposed us to sex and beat us.”

Audrey shrugs her shoulders and makes a little sound like she couldn't care less. “I'm not so concerned with how they did this or why they did this. I like what I am and if ARC is responsible, then my loyalty is to them. We are not on the same side.” Audrey changes her stance. Her body goes rigid—she is ready to pounce.

I can't say I'm surprised about where she stands. I turn to face the other Citadel in the room, and even though I'm fairly certain he's on my side—I'd probably be dead already if he wasn't—it doesn't hurt to reinforce it. “Levi, you know me. I would never do anything this drastic unless I had a very good reason. I know I promised you I would never touch Ezra, and I broke that promise
because I actually could.
I figured out what they did to us and it's awful, but we fixed it. You don't have to live like this. We're
on the same side—I swear to you we are. Even if you kind of hate me or whatever, I need you. I am not crazy. I am not a danger to anyone besides the people who did this to us.”

Levi's breathing becomes heavier. It looks like he's ready for a fight, too. He walks up to me and looks me straight in the eye without giving anything away. Because of ARC, he nearly killed his girlfriend, but maybe he feels he's in too deep already. Maybe he doesn't want any part of the truth. Maybe he just wants to follow orders and not do any soul searching about what his place in all of this is. The truth here is ugly. It would be so much easier for him if he just believed that I had gone rogue. He puts his hand on my gun.

“How could you ever think in a million years that I hate you, Ryn? I don't know what the hell is going on, but I'm with you. I've got you.”

I smile at him gratefully. “Thank you for trusting me. I know how difficult that is for you, for all of us. But I'm worthy of it, I promise. Once you hear the whole story, you're going to think differently of me. You're not going to think I'm a little kid anymore,” I say with a kind of half laugh.

“I said sometimes you
ac
t like a kid. But let's get something straight: I don't see you as a child, Ryn.”

He's giving me a super-intense look. I absolutely have no idea what to say to that. “Ohhhkayyy” is the best I can come up with. I think it's best we skip over the implications of his statement and get on with this, so I give him an order. “You handle Applebaum. But don't kill him—not yet. We do need more answers. I'll handle loony tunes over there.”

Levi takes the gun from me and pushes it right into Applebaum's forehead. He doesn't bother to speak, but if I was Applebaum, I'd be very afraid. Levi's eyes are colder and more intense than I have ever seen them.

I turn around. There are about ten feet between Frenchy and me. She is smiling a particularly disturbing smile. “Okay, Aud—” but before I can even finish saying her name, she runs and leaps forward, kicking me squarely in the chest. I am thrown a few feet backward, into one of the desks. My shoulder blade hits a computer, smashing it to pieces. I'm now lying on the desk, but before I can get up, Audrey is on top of me and her hands are around my throat, squeezing. I grab her wrists and whip my head up so that my forehead connects violently with her nose. Audrey still won't let go, even though from the blood and immediate swelling, it's clear I have broken it. To be fair, as hard as it must be for her to breathe, it's a bit harder for me, what with the choking and all.

I still have her wrists in my hands, though, and the headbutt must have distracted her a bit, because finally I am able to pull them apart and off my neck. I keep them locked in my own hands and jump up into a crouch. I leap off the desk into a somersault and land behind her. Her arms are pulled the wrong way now, and it won't take much effort to dislocate her shoulders. What Audrey lacks in strength, though, she makes up for in speed. Using her legs to get leverage, she scrambles up the side of the desk and pushes back so that we both land on the floor. In a flash, she leaps up and kicks me again in the side. There is enough power in that kick to send me flying into the wall. I land on the floor with a thud.

I spring forward using my hands and whip back up to standing. I'm a good fighter, but I don't revel in it the way Audrey does. She isn't just skilled, she
loves
it. And yet for all this zeal, I can't help think:
But . . . she's
French.

Audrey runs at me, her hand balled up into a fist, and manages a swift punch to my jaw. Before she can land another, I block her hand with my own. She tries another kick, but
I leap out of the way. As we get into a rhythm, it's obvious that Audrey truly is crazy, and that her manic style—while unpredictable—is also undisciplined.

That's when I know I'm going to kick her psychotic ass.

I dodge another attack and punch her again in the nose.

She staggers. I use that lapse to my advantage, jumping up and using all of my body strength to hit her in the face once more. Audrey falters; she is covered in blood. Her nose—or what is left of it—is making a sound like a twenty-year-old Nissan trying to get up a steep hill. I take the back of her head and then slam her face into my rising knee three times in rapid succession. I can feel the crack of her jaw and hear at least one of her teeth being dislodged from her mouth.

I'm sure she's done, but then she surprises me by jumping on my leg and flipping out backward, away from me. She gets in a solid kick that uppercuts my chin, and I taste blood in my mouth from where I've bitten down on my tongue. This is getting ridiculous. I should have just shot her, not killed her or anything, but disabled her. The problem is that she's wearing a uniform and the only place I could have shot her would be the head, putting her down permanently. And as batshit as she is, I don't necessarily want her dead.

Audrey tries another kick, but this time I'm ready for it. I grab her leg with both hands, scramble around to the other side of her, jump back a bit, and then kick her hard in the shin. I kick her so hard that her tibia breaks and pops through her suit. She must be in agony, but she is still smiling. I've had enough. I pick her up and throw her with all the force I have against the wall. Her head thuds sickeningly against it. Maybe she's dead, maybe she's just out. At this point, my tongue is killing me, and I don't care—the clock is ticking.

The colonel has not moved. He doesn't seem worried, and this worries me. There's a protocol for everything in ARC. How long is it until what's happening in this room is noticed by everyone else?

“Who else has access to the kill switch?” I demand.

Applebaum says nothing. He won't even look at me, but instead is looking over my head to the door.

“You're not going to tell me? Fine, we don't have time for an interrogation.” I move Levi's hand away and punch the major swiftly in the throat. Applebaum starts to wheeze. His eyes bulge, which is perfect. I take the knife from the holster on Levi's belt. Without hesitating. I push him easily to the ground. I get on top of him, my knees astride his body. I lean down and quickly push the tip of my blade into the outside corner of his eye socket. Applebaum screams, which is no mean feat with a partially collapsed windpipe. I hold his head steady and push the knife deeper in and then scoop up. His eyeball pops out. I grab it and cut it away from his head. It's a fairly radical thing to do, but I figure that having access to Applebaum's iris can only be a good thing.

A few of the others in the room start to scream. There isn't a single part of me that feels bad for what I have done. Applebaum deserves this and a lot worse. “Everyone shut up!” Levi hollers. “The next one of you who makes a sound gets a bullet.” If Levi is disgusted by the act of torture I've just committed he isn't showing it.

I lean down closer to Applebaum, who is whimpering. “Tell me who else has access to the kill switch. You have five seconds before I take your other eye.” I wait for two, then raise my knife again.

“Okay, okay,” he pleads between sobs. “The Roones on the
base can enact the Midnight Protocol, but besides them, only I have the authority. ARC HQ in Livermore can do it remotely, of course.”

I force myself to stop and think for a moment. I have been working on adrenaline and instinct all day. I need to stop thinking like a fugitive and start acting like a true leader. I look around. There is blood on the walls and pools of it underneath the fallen soldiers, who are turning white with shock. Audrey is laid out like a busted mannequin. The rest of the staff are keeping themselves small. Heads down between knees, arms wrapped around legs, hoping I won't see them, praying that they are invisible. This room stinks of fear and sweat and shit. I have turned it into a living nightmare.

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