The Last Uprising (Defectors Trilogy)

by Tarah Benner

  But something was changing inside her. All the hatred and despair and helplessness were welling up behind those catlike eyes. Suddenly she wasn’t the PMC officer anymore. But she wasn’t Mariah the rebel, either — the dangerous, cunning mind behind Rulon’s leadership.

  All the power and cruelty was gone, leaving an empty, dull husk of a human being behind.

  She lowered her gun. I watched her reach up to her brow and tap the lens. Instantly, the swiveling rover stopped tracking us, and the light went out.

  Mariah tugged off her smartlens and threw it on the ground.

  “I won’t stop you. But you probably only have a couple minutes before this place will be surrounded.”

  I could hardly believe what had just happened.

  As she stormed off, I could see the sag in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her gait. She was a woman with nothing left to lose. Mariah — the person I knew I could never trust — had just become our greatest asset and Aryus’s undoing.

  “Come on,” said Logan, nodding toward the door.

  Needing no further instruction, Roman kicked the door in. It flew backward, banging off the titanium wall, and the three of us ran inside, rifles raised.

  “Mariah, I —”

  Aryus was standing in the center of the room, swiping furiously at a tablet resting on a high glass table. He looked up at the sound of our rough entry, all the color draining from his too-tan face.

  He recovered almost instantly, pulling out a smirk to match the sharp lines of his goatee. He was dressed all in white as he had been the last time, but he was wearing light suede slippers and an impeccably tailored jacket. He was fleeing his fortress.

  “Going somewhere?” Roman snarled.

  “As a matter of fact, I was,” said Aryus, clicking a button on the rounded wall.

  Instantly, the enormous, ceiling-wide skylight defrosted, and a helicopter came into view, resting on the glass.

  “There’s quite a hullabaloo going on in the city, as I understand it,” Aryus continued. “My advisors tell me I should relocate for my own safety until this whole mess is sorted out.”

  He smiled, and I got that horrible sick feeling in my stomach that reminded me of my time as his prisoner.

  “A little late for that,” said Roman.

  “Oh, Roman . . .” Aryus clicked his tongue with regret. “You could have been such an officer. You were on the fast track, my boy. What with your size and brains . . .”

  He gestured to the sky, and I wanted to roll my eyes at his own sense of self-importance about his military company.

  “You’re done,” I breathed.

  “Oh . . . no, I don’t think so,” Aryus scoffed. “No. For one thing, I can tell Roman here is in stage one of the virus. He wants the cure as much as he wants me dead.

  “For another, there’s a much bigger problem than you originally anticipated going on down below.”

  It was silent for a moment, and I listened intently for the sound of gunshots, but I couldn’t hear anything except the persistent hum of Aryus’s helicopter on the roof.

  “Carriers,” Aryus breathed. “A huge swarm of them. This is what happens when you have a security breach of undesirables.” His gaze lingered on me for a long moment. “They bring all kinds of trash with them.”

  I opened my mouth to retort, but then I knew what we had to do. I raised my gun, but before my finger closed on the trigger, a shot pierced my eardrums.

  The sound reverberated around the small space, and I lowered my gun incrementally, turning to Roman. But he had not shot Aryus.

  I turned to Logan and saw her gun drop to her side. She met my gaze, and then my eyes traveled down to her chest.

  A sticky wet spot had appeared on the front of her black turtleneck.

  Confusion came first, followed by a sick feeling in my throat.

  “No!” I yelled, whipping around behind me, gun poised.

  Mariah was standing in the doorway holding a handgun, her face devoid of all emotion.

  “Do you think I’m so stupid I didn’t know about Jared?” she snarled. “Do you think I don’t know when I’m being fucked with?”

  “So you helped him?” I spat.

  “I should have been smarter. You can’t trust anyone. Only —”

  I didn’t hear the rest of what she said — just the blast of my own rifle.

  With her last hateful words still lingering on her lips, Mariah fell backward and slumped against the far wall.

  There was another shot. Aryus staggered back against the high glass table, knocking it to the floor.

  The table shattered into a million pieces over the white marble floor and the snowy rug.

  Roman had placed a bullet in Aryus’s forehead, right between the eyes.

  Logan staggered and fell to her knees, and I grabbed her around the shoulders to slow her fall.

  She collapsed onto the white carpet, and I pushed my hands against her wound, trying to stop the flow of blood. She grimaced in pain, but I kept my hands over the hole in her chest.

  “Oh my god . . . Logan!”

  “She shot me,” Logan mused. “I can’t believe that bitch shot me.”

  “It’s okay. It’s okay.” My heart was pounding so loudly, I couldn’t hear anything except her voice and the rush of blood in my ears.

  “Haven . . . I’m hit . . .”

  “I know. It’s okay.”

  “I . . .” She stopped, looking around in confusion.

  “Logan . . . Logan! Stay with me.”

  She sucked in a shaky breath, trying to smile, but tears just filled her eyes.

  “Logan, come on . . .”

  “I don’t think I’m going to make it.” She sounded vaguely surprised, disappointed.

  “You have to!” I cried, my voice breaking. “Don’t give her the satisfaction.”

  “I won’t,” she gurgled. “No . . . Mariah did what she had to do.”

  I shook my head, tears clouding my vision. “W-What do you mean?”

  Logan tried to swallow, but it looked painful. “It doesn’t matter.”

  I stared at her. She couldn’t be hurt — not Logan. Logan couldn’t die.

  Her golden hair was fanned out behind her like sunshine, and her bright green eyes were glassy with tears. She was invincible.

  “Don’t tell Greyson, but . . .” She paused, and I gripped her arm, squeezing tightly.

  “Tell Greyson what?”

  “At least this way . . . I get to see Max again.”

  A wet sob escaped my lips, but I didn’t feel anything. I was numb with shock.

  “Logan . . . Max would want you here.”

  My voice sounded as though I was pleading with her to stay, and maybe I was.

  She shook her head slightly, but it cost her too much effort. She closed her eyes. “No . . . Max wanted to be here. He should be here.”

  “But your parents . . . and Sebastian.”

  Her eyes opened hazily. “Will you find them for me?” she asked, hope lighting her face. “If you know they’re all right, then I’ll know they’re all right.”

  I didn’t know what that meant. She wasn’t making sense, and her warm blood was gushing between my fingers, spilling out onto the carpet. I wanted to pour it back into her and put her back together again, but I couldn’t fix this.

  “Haven . . . I’m so glad I got to know you.” Logan’s eyes were lidded, barely staying open. “You’re my best friend.”

  I sobbed openly just then, letting my head fall toward my chest. “I can’t do this without you.”

  “Sure you can. Don’t be sad for me.” She swallowed laboriously. “We did it.”

  I nodded, pushing my hands into her wound harder, desperate to stop the bleeding. But her eyes were closing now. Her face was no longer strained in agony.

  Her perfect lips relaxed, as though in sleep, and I felt her slip away.

  I stared at her for a long moment, waiting for her to speak again, but her lips were frozen. She woul
dn’t laugh or smile or talk to me again.

  I looked up at Roman and was startled to see he had tears in his eyes.

  He wiped his face on his sleeve, sniffing loudly. He let out an agonized yell as I’d never heard, shooting at Aryus’s motionless body again. It twitched where the bullet hit him, but he stayed like that.

  “He’s ruined everything,” he spat, a low waver in his voice.

  I could barely understand what he was saying. There was an odd ringing in my ears.

  Logan was dead.

  I couldn’t fathom it. Logan — the sharpshooter who saved up her nail polish after the Collapse and read trashy romance novels and kissed my friends. She was gone. It was as though a light had gone out in the room.

  Wordlessly, I stood and crossed to the cabinet fitted seamlessly into Aryus’s wall and pushed against it. A drawer slid out, revealing six gleaming syringes filled with clear liquid — so harmless looking, yet so potent.

  Roman was still yelling, his face red and hot with anger. I didn’t even hear what he was saying.

  I grabbed his flailing arm, and he physically flinched when I touched him. My hands were red with Logan’s blood.

  I removed the cap, tested the syringe as Amory had taught me, and plunged the needle into Roman’s arm.

  When I had finished, he was blinking in disbelief. He’d stopped yelling, and his shoulders slumped forward as if the silence took a physical toll on him.

  Thinking of the value of these five syringes — with the power to save five people’s lives — I scooped them out of the tray and handed them to Roman. He looked at them for a moment and then nodded, shoving them into his coat pocket.

  I looked back at Logan lying on the carpet, so still and peaceful, like a sleeping angel.

  Now that it was quiet, I could hear commotion outside over the sound of Aryus’s helicopter. There was a narrow spiral staircase along the wall, and I followed Roman up the clanking stairs. He pushed open the hatch on the ceiling, and we stuck our heads out of the top of the building.

  I peered over the edge. Aryus had not exaggerated. There was a crowd of carriers moving down the block. A thin column of PMC officers was poised in front of the Infinity Building trying to subdue them, but I knew it was futile. There had to be more than five hundred carriers and only a hundred officers. Even if they managed to mow down some of the carriers, they would be overwhelmed by sheer force.

  I looked around for Roman, but he had disappeared. I called out for him, but there was no answer. I knew I should return to Aryus’s chamber, but I couldn’t stand to see Logan’s lifeless body again.

  Amory, I thought suddenly. I couldn’t lose him, too. He and Greyson were waiting for us. We had to move.

  But then Roman appeared again, dragging something — someone — through the hatch with his uninjured arm.

  “No!” I cried, horrified when he hauled Aryus’s limp form through the hatch. “What are you doing?”

  “This has to happen, Haven.”

  The disgust churned in my stomach when I realized what he was suggesting.

  “That’s barbaric, Roman.”

  “It’s the only way this will ever end.”

  I shook my head.

  “Haven! If we leave him in here, who do you think will find him next? World Corp will just pretend that he’s still alive.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does matter. He’s the symbol of all of this. People need to see he’s gone, or they’ll never believe it’s over. They need to understand they’ve lost.”

  I couldn’t argue. I knew he was right. World Corp would definitely try to cover up Aryus’s death. He was the most powerful man in the world.

  Roman could see from my face that I’d given in. Without another word, he hoisted Aryus over his beefy shoulder, wincing in pain as he moved his bleeding arm, and stepped toward the ledge.

  The carriers had reached the teetering chain of officers. I could almost feel Roman’s satisfaction wafting over me. He wanted the carriers to rip Aryus’s body to shreds. Even I couldn’t argue that it had some poetic justice.

  With a grunt like a shot putter, Roman launched Aryus over the ledge, and I watched him sail toward the ground in a flash of white. I looked away, not wanting to see him hit the pavement.

  “We have to go,” I said. “We have to get Amory and Greyson.”

  Now that the job was done, all I could feel was terror for them.

  Roman was surprisingly gentle as he helped me down from the roof. He’d covered Logan’s body with one of Aryus’s fluffy white blankets, and I marveled at the thoughtfulness of this gesture.

  “I don’t want to leave her here,” I choked.

  “We don’t have a choice,” said Roman. “Besides, Logan’s not in there anymore.”

  To anyone else, this might have sounded harsh, but Roman’s voice was softer than usual, and he was right. Logan was never one for this world. She was too good.

  I knelt briefly beside Logan’s body and touched a single lock of blond hair that had escaped her ponytail.

  “I’ll take care of them,” I whispered, pulling the blanket over her still face.

  I stood, fighting the tears that threatened to burst forth, and followed Roman back down the spiral hallway. He punched the elevator button furiously, but the doors wouldn’t open. I remembered that all the elevators were controlled from the desk in the lobby. The rover with the camera was down, and even if Greyson and Amory were all right, they wouldn’t be able to see us leaving Aryus’s chamber and coming back down the hall.

  Following the smooth wall opposite the bubbling fountain, we located a door to the emergency staircase and pushed.

  It took forever to wind our way down through the building, and by the time we reached the bottom, I was dizzy and out of breath.

  Roman shoved against the door, pulling his gun out of his waistband, but the lobby was deserted.

  “Greyson!” I called. My voice echoed off the rounded walls, and the emptiness made me feel more alone than ever. I’d lost Logan already; I didn’t think I’d be able to stand it if I’d lost Greyson and Amory, too.

  I ran to the center of the room where we’d left them behind the desk. There was only a pool of blood, smeared by footprints and someone being dragged away. Whether the footprints belonged to Greyson or PMC, I couldn’t tell.

  “Greyson!”

  Only my own voice answered back. Roman sighed beside me, and I felt the surprising weight of his hand on my good shoulder.

  “We’ll find them,” he said.

  “No we won’t,” I said with a sniff. “They’re gone.”

  “Ready to give up on me so quick?”

  I snapped my head around toward the sound of Greyson’s voice, hope flooding my chest.

  His head was sticking out of a door fitted seamlessly into the titanium wall, floating like a ghost.

  “Oh my god!” I cried, sprinting toward him.

  He stepped out into the lobby, nearly falling back against the wall as I threw my good arm around him.

  “Where’s Amory?” I asked anxiously, pulling back to examine Greyson for injuries.

  “He’s fine.” It was just like Greyson to understand instinctively what I really wanted to know. I looked around him and saw Amory’s feet resting against a huge stack of paper towels.

  “It’s a janitorial closet,” said Greyson. “I moved him in here to hide, and I found a first aid kit. I got the bleeding to stop, but he needs to see Shriver right away.”

  Greyson was looking around me at Roman, his eyes scanning the lobby anxiously.

  My heart sank when I realized who he was looking for. I didn’t want him to ask. I didn’t think I could handle it.

  “Where’s Logan?” The anxiety in his voice tore at my heart.

  I looked away, unable to see his face fall when I told him. “She got shot,” I choked. “By Mariah.”

  Greyson’s gaze flickered, and a shudder rolled through him. “What?”

 
He didn’t want to put this information together with Logan’s absence. He didn’t want to face the truth.

  “No!” said Greyson, tears filling his eyes.

  I gripped his arms tightly, but he jerked around, shaking his head in disbelief.

  I didn’t say anything. Tears were streaming down my face. I looked at him, willing him to accept what had happened. I couldn’t take the denial.

  He yanked out of my grasp and flung himself away from me. “No! She can’t be gone!”

  I didn’t know what to say. I never did when Greyson was hurting. His pain had a way of mixing with my own grief and compounding it.

  He spun away, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes — hard — as if trying to stop the tide of despair.

  “We shouldn’t have believed her,” I said. “Mariah tricked us.”

  The weight of responsibility hit me like a ton of bricks. If we had just killed Mariah as she turned to leave, Logan would still be alive.

  But then I realized Mariah must have intended to leave when she had heard her brother had been killed. She had only returned because she knew she had nowhere else to go.

  “We have to get out of here,” said Roman. I noticed his voice had changed since we’d lost Logan. Everything he said was softer, as though her death had ripped away his usual hard exterior. “Carriers are storming the city. We’ll be trapped here if we don’t move.”

  “I’ll get the car,” said Greyson, his voice husky.

  I didn’t want him going out there alone, but I couldn’t look at him. Roman seemed to read my mind and followed him outside, reloading his gun.

  When they disappeared from sight, I ducked into the closet to check on Amory. He was covered in blood and too pale, but he was breathing. His dark lashes were fanned out, throwing shadows over his cheeks as he slept.

  As I reached out and ran my thumb over his scruffy jaw, I was glad he was unconscious. I didn’t think I could bear to explain Logan’s death again.

  After a moment, his eyes opened lazily, and he smiled up at me.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I said, unable to hold back a weak smile.

  “I got shot,” he said, as though he needed to bring me up to speed. “It hurts like a bitch.”