The Last Uprising (Defectors Trilogy)

by Tarah Benner

  “Those who surrender peacefully will have to await the scrutiny of the U.S. justice system,” said Ida. Her voice was firm, but I could detect the gentle undertones there. “If we want a peaceful restoration of the federal government, that’s what we have to do. We cannot continue to operate as vigilantes. We will have to fall in line once the government knows which way is up.”

  “And the carriers?” Logan asked. Her voice was small, but it carried through the crowd.

  “They are not our biggest concern right now,” said Ida. “We don’t know how much of the cure has been produced. Once the Infinity Building has been secured, our number one priority will be recovering the formula. Hopefully, once the dust settles, we’ll be able to cure a substantial number of them.”

  “By then it will be too late,” said another voice. It was Doctor Carson.

  I looked at Roman, whose hands were balled into fists on his knees. The yellow around his irises was starting to spread. He looked feverish and slightly unhinged.

  “Ida, be reasonable,” said Shriver. “The cure has the potential to save thousands of lives.”

  “We will do what we can,” said Ida. “But neutralizing World Corp and the PMC should be our first priority.”

  The crowd murmured in agreement. Clearly they didn’t believe the carriers were worth saving.

  I knew differently. I had watched Logan and my mother succumb to the virus; I didn’t want to watch Roman’s slow decline.

  “I need you all to come with me,” said Ida.

  I looked up and realized she was addressing me and the other members of our little assassination squad.

  She led us over to a table with a more detailed map of the city. Ida put a finger on one of the roads and traced a line to the center.

  “This is your best route to get to the Infinity Building from here. If all goes according to plan, these bases will be neutralized. But if they’re not, we cannot wait. If we give Aryus enough time to flee, it will be nearly impossible to find him again. He has unlimited resources. Even with all international flights grounded, it would not be out of the question for him to charter a plane to another country.”

  I nodded. I knew Aryus’s first priority would be self-preservation.

  “Do not engage in the fighting,” said Ida. “Your only task is to get to Aryus.”

  Her eyes lingered on Roman for a moment before snapping back to me. “Haven, I need you, Logan, and Roman to share everything you know about the building.”

  I nodded, everything inside me screaming in protest. I didn’t want to tell them anything. I didn’t want them attempting the impossible.

  I looked to Roman and Logan, but Roman was expertly avoiding eye contact. Since he had been working for the PMC at the time, I knew he was ashamed to be singled out, but we were beyond that now. This was about survival. I started talking, and Logan jumped in to relay everything we knew about the layout.

  Greyson drew a diagram of the lobby with all the exits we could remember. I explained how the woman at the front desk controlled all the elevators.

  We would need two people to stay behind in the lobby to kill any officers who entered the building after us and ensure we could get back to the first floor.

  “Aryus had a few doses of the cure in his office,” I said. “But our best bet for the main supply is the lab. I don’t know where it is, though.”

  I recalled the wretched nurse who had stood over my bed, but I had no memory of being brought there.

  “It’s the twenty-fourth floor,” said Roman in a scratchy voice.

  “How many officers can we expect?” asked Amory.

  Ida shook her head. “It’s hard to say, but Aryus has grown paranoid. After Mariah and Jared sneaked in as uniformed PMC and Roman betrayed him, he doesn’t trust his own officers. He’s likely to have only those closest to him guarding his chamber.”

  Amory nodded, his eyes cold. The full weight of what was about to happen hit me. We were really going to kill Aryus.

  When Logan and I had exhausted everything we knew and formed a plan, Amory’s hand clamped over my arm, and he pulled me away from the others.

  “Where are we . . .?”

  He didn’t answer but continued to tug me toward the stairwell.

  Once we were out of earshot, he whipped around, anger burning in his eyes.

  “Haven, what the hell?”

  I staggered back, unprepared for his fury.

  “What?”

  A dark cloud passed over Amory’s face, and a derisive laugh burst out of him. “What? What? Why did you volunteer?”

  “Because you volunteered!” I spluttered. “Did you think I was just going to let you go in there with Roman alone?”

  “Yes!” he burst out. “And you should have. Do you think this is a game?”

  Now it was my turn to feel the anger sour in my blood.

  “A game?”

  Amory caught my expression, and a tangle of emotions flew across his face: frustration, regret, and embarrassment.

  “In case you’ve forgotten, I was the one who was in there. I talked to Aryus. I watched him cure Logan, not knowing if she would live or die. I watched Jared die trying to come back for me. Trust me — I know it isn’t a game.”

  Now Amory’s face was all regret.

  Realizing I’d been shouting, I lowered my voice. “Why is it so terrible for me to go but not for you?”

  “Because I want you to live,” he said before he could stop himself.

  “And you’re preparing to walk in there thinking you won’t?”

  “N-No. I didn’t mean —” He sighed. “The more of us that go in, the lower the chance that we’ll all come out alive. I want to be able to walk in there knowing you’re safe.”

  I took a step toward him, wanting to reach out and bridge the short distance between us. “But I won’t be. No matter what. You need a team, and I don’t want you doing this without me.”

  Amory let out a burst of air in frustration, spinning away from me with his hands in his hair. “I can’t lose you, Haven!”

  I stared at him, shocked by the terror and fury etched across his face. “That’s how I feel.”

  “You don’t understand . . . there’s a good chance we will die.”

  “I’m well aware of the facts. But after everything I’ve lost, I can’t lose you, too. At least not without putting up a fight.”

  He sighed, and I sensed he knew I could not be persuaded to hang back.

  “Wait . . . why did you volunteer?” I asked, peering up at him with suspicion.

  “I have my reasons . . .”

  He was sulking now. Perfect.

  Rolling my eyes, I took two steps forward and wrapped my arms around his waist, closing the space between us. He stiffened, vaguely surprised, and then he relaxed into me and draped his arms over my shoulders.

  “Tell me.”

  Amory sighed. “I couldn’t let Roman go alone. I knew he would volunteer so he could try to get the cure.”

  I nodded, thinking there was probably more.

  “Plus I hate Aryus for everything he stole from me,” Amory whispered into my hair.

  Of course. Guilt stung the words on my tongue. With everything going on, sometimes it was easy to forget what Amory’s own father had put him through. “Your father?”

  “No. The PMC didn’t make him the way he is,” he said bitterly. “Aryus stole you from me.”

  I pulled back a little so I could look him in the eyes. “No. I’m here now. I’m yours.”

  Amory’s look was so intense it knocked the air right out of me.

  Without warning, he tugged me up until his warm lips found mine. I ran a hand through his hair and sighed against him. His hands trailed down my waist, pulling me closer.

  He put everything he was feeling behind that kiss. He was angry and loving and scared. He pushed me back against the wall, and our bodies fit together until there wasn’t a hair’s breadth between us.

  We clung to each other, both
thinking our time together was limited.

  Why did we take such stupid risks? I wondered.

  But I knew the answer. We took risks because none of us could stand doing nothing — not after everything we’d been through. We had to fight. I felt that urge deep in my bones, a toxic need that would fester inside me long after the last PMC officer had fallen.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  I didn’t sleep at all that night. From the minimal snoring and the constant shifting of blankets across the factory floor, I knew most of the other rebels were lying awake, too.

  It was different than any other night I had slept awaiting battle. This was the first time I genuinely felt as though we wouldn’t make it back.

  When the first rays of sunlight peeked through the broken factory windows, I was already sitting up in the folds of my sleeping bag, watching Roman’s fitful tussle with his blankets.

  He’d gotten worse. The fever no longer kept him incapacitated, but he now had that unhealthy pallor all the time. He’d lost weight, and he looked suddenly much smaller.

  It was strange that I should feel protective of Roman, since he and I had never really been friends. We tolerated each other, but he didn’t like me.

  Still, if we didn’t get the cure, he would be dead soon — one more member of my family gone from the world. I didn’t think I could take it, no matter how infuriating Roman could be.

  Greyson stirred next. We sat without talking, him watching Logan and me watching Amory, and my heart went out to him. Greyson had followed me all over the country and had brought me back to my old self. Watching him sitting there, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and tousling his now-messy dark waves, I felt a surge of comfort and strength that reminded me of home.

  Ida called a meeting over breakfast, which was just as well. None of us was very hungry. I picked at my oatmeal and chugged a mug of weak instant coffee as she ran through the plan once again.

  I already knew our part. It was simple: Don’t get killed, get to the Infinity Building, blast our way in, kill Aryus, grab the cure, and get out.

  When she finished, I watched the rebels milling around in their black combat gear, prowling at the edges of the room like caged panthers. Some of them owned Teflon vests, which made me jealous. Others were being a bit theatrical, spreading tar paint over their cheeks to read “XX” as they had on the night of the Sector X riots.

  It seemed tactless now. Then, the rebels had been attacking a military base to free prisoners who were innocent, including Greyson. But now, we were about to stage a violent overthrow of a region where civilians lived. The weak and cowardly had fled to the communes, but so had families, the elderly, and the sick. If anything went wrong, innocent people could be killed.

  I waited in line with the others to be issued weapons, trying to think about anything other than what we were about to do.

  Logan was ahead of me in line, and when Switch tried to pass her a dainty little handgun, I thought she was going to take his head off. That made me laugh. I couldn’t believe there was a rebel alive who didn’t know what a sharpshooter Logan had been.

  She didn’t stop until she had locked up five of the best rifles for each of us, and I was grateful when she handed me an FN SCAR. This was the weapon I was most comfortable with, and she knew it.

  I caught her eye, wishing I could put my gratitude into words, but she understood. It wasn’t just the gun; Logan was always looking out for me.

  “She shouldn’t be doing this,” Amory murmured over my shoulder.

  He was right. How would Logan take out officers when she could barely shoot straight? She was still a deadly fighter in hand-to-hand combat, but that didn’t matter to the PMC. They would shoot her as soon as look at her.

  We fell out, piling into the vehicles parked behind the factory. Amory, Roman, Greyson, Logan, and I had an old Xterra all to ourselves. Judging by the silence in the car, they were all as nervous as I was.

  We took the route Ida had given us, staying off the main highway. The rebels would be hitting from three strategic points in the city, but we were to go another way. Ida wanted us to station ourselves by the base nearest the Infinity Building and lay low. When the base fell, we would know it was our best opportunity to find Aryus.

  As we approached the heart of the city, it struck me how quiet and deserted the streets looked. The commune dwellers should have been on their way to work at the World Corp factories, fields, and labs, but I didn’t see the people in white.

  Then I remembered Ida had persuaded several of the communes to riot. She must have chosen those communes specifically to get the civilians out of the way. That made me feel slightly better about storming into the city and staging an overthrow.

  We passed under a rover, and I panicked as the light turned red. They knew we were here now. I imagined rovers all over the city setting off alarms and the PMC scrambling to discover why there were so many illegals fanning out across the city.

  Did they think it was another carrier attack? Or had they been expecting a rebel invasion?

  I sensed Logan’s and Greyson’s nervousness as we watched one rover after another blink red.

  There were so many in the city center, and I realized they must record everything the commune dwellers did. I couldn’t imagine living under such intense scrutiny.

  Amory parked the car in a garage facing the base and killed the engine. We would not be in disguise this time, hiding in PMC whites. That sent a defiant thrill through me, but it also made me nervous. This mission was not about stealth. We were taking a stand.

  We got out, and I checked my gun out of habit. The extra ammunition weighed down my pockets, but it didn’t seem like enough. Amory got out, and I watched him stick a knife in his boot and clamp on his weapons holster. His gray eyes were cold and focused, his movements precise. He was all business, and I was struck — not for the first inappropriate time — by how incredibly sexy he was.

  Not two minutes after we’d parked, sirens were blaring up the street, drawing closer. Amory grabbed me and pulled me behind the SUV, shielding me with his body. If I wasn’t so scared, I would have blushed at the way he was pressed against me.

  Blue lights flashed in my vision, and several cruisers blazed past the garage. They knew what direction we had gone, but they hadn’t expected us to stop.

  Nobody dared speak, but I knew everyone’s thoughts were the same: When would the rebels attack?

  My muscles tensed. My ears were piqued for a sound, my body poised to run and fight.

  What were we waiting for? An explosion? Gunfire?

  Then more sirens sounded, farther away this time, and I knew PMC units were responding to other reports of illegals. Then there were three gunshots in quick succession and a loud crash.

  Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm was going off. More gunshots ricocheted off buildings, no more than half a mile away.

  Sirens were blaring again, approaching from the opposite direction this time. There was a volley of gunshots, and then glass shattered.

  “It’s starting,” breathed Logan.

  It didn’t feel right, standing here waiting for the rebels to take down the PMC bases. We should have been out there fighting.

  No. We shouldn’t have been there at all.

  Suddenly I felt very young. I wanted to go back to college and never think about fighting or killing again. I wanted to go to parties, go on runs with Greyson, and spend late mornings lounging in bed with Amory.

  But Amory was part of this life. Without the fighting, I wouldn’t have him or Logan or Roman or Ida. I was completely different now.

  I stared out at the street. PMC officers were flooding out of the base, some fanning out to defend it, others breaking off to subdue the nearby violence.

  The rebels’ plan was working.

  Logan was kneeling by the low concrete wall of the parking garage, her rifle propped up on the ledge. At first I thought she was just resting it there, but she was lining up her shot.


  “Logan! No!” Amory hissed.

  “Do you expect me to just sit here when I’ve got the perfect shot?” she snapped.

  “Yes,” said Greyson, sliding down the wall beside her and pulling her rifle down. “We have to stay out of sight. We have a job to do.”

  She looked irritated, but I could tell Greyson’s soft brown puppy eyes were more persuasive to her than Amory’s bark.

  But I was getting antsy, too. From my vantage point, I could make out a battered rebel SUV speeding down the street toward the swarm of officers, an arm swinging out the window. Something flew through the air, landing in the crowd of officers. Before they could do anything, an explosion shook the entire street.

  Momentarily blinded, I stumbled back as the wave of heat reached us. Amory’s arms fumbled for me as we both hit the hard concrete. Somebody screamed, and the acrid stench of burning plastic and hair reached my nostrils.

  “Those crazy fuckers,” yelled Roman, his deep, booming voice echoing off the walls.

  There were more gunshots, and a few streets over, another explosion rocked the parking deck.

  The cacophony of gunfire, sirens, and screaming mixed together in a horrific pulse that shook my ribcage as I lay curled on the concrete under Amory’s arm.

  Finally, we hoisted ourselves up and crawled over to Logan. She was coughing loudly, and I could tell she had inhaled a lot more smoke than I had.

  “You okay?” I croaked.

  She gave a shaky nod, and we all turned to look at the base.

  Windows all along the first few stories were shattered. Bodies clad in PMC whites lay sprawled everywhere, covered in bits of brick and rubble. A few officers were staggering to their feet and dragging themselves from the wreckage, but another rebel truck was approaching from the opposite direction. There was a volley of shots, and the remaining officers fell.

  “Do you think that’s all of them?” Greyson wondered aloud.

  “No,” said Amory. “But I think it’s as good as we’re going to get.”

  “Let’s get this shit over with,” said Roman, strapping on his holster impatiently.