Alliance: The Complete Series (A Dystopian YA Box Set Books 1-5): Dystopian Sci Fi Thriller

by Inna Hardison

  He’d watched him sleep for two days now, running his hand through his hair, whispering to him how sorry he was, begging him to please be okay, but the boy just slept, nothing moving on him at all. His whole back was covered with bandages and he had an IV going into his arm that he didn’t want to ask Ella about, but he assumed she was feeding him full of pain meds and whatever was making him sleep like this.

  He went to see Ams once, briefly, hoping she’d talk to him, but she didn’t seem to want to talk to anybody. Laurel had told her about Riley already, about what he did to that man and what Max had done to him, but she didn’t seem angry at him for it. She seemed disappointed Eryn was still alive. He watched her cry in that silent way she had and his heart ached for this girl, but there wasn’t a thing he could say to make it any easier for her; none of them could.

  He needed a shower and a hot meal, so he was grateful when Brody showed up. He raced home and threw a cauldron of frozen stew into the oven, showered as quickly as he could, swallowing the food as he was drying himself, worried that the kid would wake up and he wouldn’t be there for it.

  Ella caught him in a hallway on the way to the room, telling him that he finally did wake up, and Brody was with him then, but he’d just passed out again, and she wasn’t sure it was a good idea for him to go in there just yet.

  “I’ll leave if he wants me to, Ella, I swear,” he said softly and went in, settling into the chair he’d spent the last two days in. He felt that he was awake before Riley opened his eyes and leaned in closer to him.

  The kid looked at him and smiled, his old-Riley smile. “Max,” he said quietly. “Are you angry with me?” and he wasn’t smiling anymore.

  He shook his head. “No, Riley, I am not angry with you. I wish I knew what the hell made you do it, but I’m not angry.” He felt his eyes well up. He stood up and turned away from him, hiding.

  “I’m sorry, Max,” Riley whispered to his back.

  “I am, too. I was pissed at you, just not pissed enough to do what you made me do to you,” he said and faced him. “When you’d end up at our house all those times after whatever he did to you, I wanted to kill him. I would get so mad at that man, I wanted to kill him. I know I shouldn’t be saying it to you, but I bloody did. I think I would have eventually if they didn’t take us first. What you made me do,” he shook his head, looking down, hiding his eyes, “I hope you never go through that. Nobody’s pride is worth that, Riley. Not even yours.”

  Riley closed his eyes and turned his face away from him.

  He took a step to him, but Riley tensed up, and he suddenly felt he was intruding into some private war he was fighting with himself. He turned away, not wanting to make it any harder on him.

  “I can’t stay on the council. I am not sure I can explain why to any of you just yet, I just know I can’t be a part of it anymore. I’ll do what I have to as a soldier, and I’ll help train the kids if you let me, but not that,” Riley said quietly after a while.

  He faced him, surprised. “You helped write the bloody code. You were there for all of it, remember? What am I missing?”

  Riley shook his head and closed his eyes, breathing hard, but not talking, and he was angry at him now, angry that he pushed it this far out of some idea of justice or fairness or whatever it was, and now suddenly wanted no part of it.

  He walked over to him and crouched by the bed, staring at his tired face. “You don’t get to walk away because your own back got bloodied, you just don’t!”

  Riley winced, eyes flying open. “You misunderstand me, Max. I have no problem with what you did to me. I didn’t leave you any choice and I know that, but it wasn’t just pride. It was the right thing to do, the only thing to do. It’s the rest of it I can’t be a part of. I’m not willing to be the judge of someone else’s motives or character, is what I’m saying, I’m just not. I watched you damn near kill Trevor, and I know he is a good man, a decent man. It didn’t solve anything, didn’t fix what he did to Selena when he was just a kid. I won’t be a part of something like that again. And there is something else. I don’t regret what I did to Eryn. I know I am supposed to, but I just don’t. It felt bloody good to hurt him “—Riley closed his eyes tightly—”I’m tired, Max. You should go.”

  He had to let him be after that. He found Lancer after a while at the council building. The man was pacing up and down the long hallway in the basement, looking tense.

  “They won’t bloody talk to me, Max. Not one of them,” he said, shaking his head, and went on with his pacing.

  “We’ll figure it out,” he said softly, and then snapped at him to stop making him dizzy with all the pacing he was doing. He leaned against the wall outside of one of the cells.

  Lancer finally stopped his rounds and stood next to him, watching him. “Spill it, whatever it is that’s making you look like you buried someone.”

  “Riley. He wants out of the council, but it’s more than that. It’s like whatever we are doing here…. I think he’s given up. On all of it, and it scares the shit out of me.”

  “He’ll be all right. I think all of this is his way of punishing himself for Ams, only he won’t ever say it. He’s hurting for her, is what I’m saying, and doesn’t know what to do with all that hurt. Ams asked Laurel to find her a place yesterday. She is not going home, Max. I don’t know if anyone told Riley yet”

  Ams was at the window when he got back to the med wing. She faced him, waiting, serious gray eyes staring at him and he could see the fear on her face, something he wasn’t accustomed to from her.

  “How is he?” she asked bluntly.

  Max took the few steps to her and dipped his head. “He’ll be okay. Ella has him on enough pain meds to subdue a small army, I think. He’ll likely stay here the rest of the week.”

  The girl just nodded, not saying anything.

  “I need to know, Ams. I won’t tell him anything that’ll hurt him yet, I swear, but you have to tell me what you plan to do.”

  Ams turned away, staring out the window, hiding. “I can’t be with him now, Max. Not after what I did to him. I know he’ll take me back, so it’s not him, it’s me. He needs to be free of me,” she whispered, and he could hear the tears in her voice.

  He threw his arm around her, and she let him hold her like that for a while, not saying anything.

  “I wish I never woke up, Max,” she said in a shaky voice and turned around.

  He pulled her in close without a word, letting her sob into his chest, until she seemed a little calmer before telling her what he needed to tell her, wishing that it could wait, or better yet, that he didn’t have to do it at all.

  “He never stopped loving you, Ams…. He wouldn’t come out of that damn house for a week after you left, wouldn’t let anyone in either. We tried to get him to move out of that place, so he wasn’t reminded of you every day, but he wouldn’t even listen to us on that. Kept everything just the way it was, too, hoping you’d come back someday, I think. I’m not saying it to hurt you, but if you do love him, don’t do this to him. Don’t walk away because you are ashamed,” he said to her softly, and he let her be after that.

  Brody was with him when he got there, watching him sleep. He took him out into the hallway and told him about Ams, what she planned to do, only Brody already seemed to know all of it. Laurel found a place for her and had it cleaned up. She moved all of her things there this afternoon, he told him.

  “She needs to move all of it back,” he couldn’t help but snap at him. “She can’t do this to him now, she just can’t, not for the reasons she wants to. She loves him. I can see it all over her, so she is doing it out of shame for what she’s done. We can’t let her, not if she stays in Reston. If she wants to leave, she needs to just bloody leave, so he can move on, but not this!”

  Brody didn’t say a word for a long time and then looked at him, blushing. “Riley knows, dad. I told him. I couldn’t lie to him. I had to tell him.”

  He was awake when he went into the room, bu
t he could tell he wasn’t okay by the way his eyes were staring blankly at the door, and then at him, as if not quite knowing who he was.

  “Don’t, Max,” he whispered, as soon as he closed the door behind him. “I can’t talk about it. She can do whatever she needs to do, and you have to let her.”

  He could see the struggle not to cry on his face, all the muscles in his jaw tense, and he felt for this boy he’d known his whole life, felt the ache in him. He knelt next to him and hugged him, not knowing what else to do to make it easier on him, and he watched the tears spill out of the corners of his eyes then, Riley not moving anything. “I am sorry, Riley,” he whispered, running his hand through the too-long tangles.

  “Tell me. I know you talked to her. Spill it…. I don’t think it can hurt me any more than I am already, but I need to know.”

  And he did, felt he had to. He told him why he thought Ams was running from him now, and that she loved him, that he was sure of that, but the sadness and shame in her–she couldn’t get past it, not yet. And that maybe she would someday if they gave her the space she needed to not feel so bad about everything.

  Riley opened his eyes when he was done, no tears in them. “Promise me something, Max.”

  He nodded.

  “Tell her that she is free of me. You’ll need to have Loren draw up the papers to that effect to make it official. Do that for me, Max,” Riley whispered, reached for his hand, squeezed it hard, and turned his face away from him.

  Ams was already in the new place when he had Loren pull up their marriage certificate, the second one they ever issued in Reston. Loren didn’t say a word when he told him to draw up the other paper, the one ending their union, just handed it to him with a small nod and turned away.

  Riley didn’t even read it when he signed it, didn’t look at him either, and he knew he had to let him be after that.

  It took him almost an hour to find the damn house Laurel picked out for Ams, a tiny shack on the very edge of the city. She had all the windows opened, and he peeked in before knocking. She was sitting at a small table in the kitchen, staring at nothing. She looked so very small and fragile, he hurt for her, but he promised Riley that he’d do this for him. She let him in without a word and went to put up tea, though he knew he couldn’t stomach anything now. She glanced at the piece of paper in his hand and he saw a shadow pass over her face, but she didn’t say anything.

  He sat in front of her, searching for a way to do this that would be bearable, but there wasn’t one, so he finally just put the paper and an old school pen in front of her. “I am sorry, Amelia.”

  “It’s all right,” she said, but he could see that her hand was shaking when she reached for the pen. She ran her fingers over Riley’s name and then very quickly signed her name under it and got up, turning away from him. “Tell him that I understand. Just tell him that. I won’t make it any harder on him. I won’t hurt him again.”

  He wanted to comfort her, but couldn’t bring himself to touch her, the way she was. Couldn’t bring himself to say anything to her either.

  He walked home, slowly, heavily, feeling as old as he ever had, keeping his eyes on the dusty street. A hint of winter hit him unexpectedly on a warm breeze, too warm to have the sharp, tinny coldness of snow in it. He stopped, inhaling deeply, grateful for the distraction. Things always seemed to be better for them in the winter. And he wished for it to hurry up and come already, the colder the better, so all these people would gather out of a simple need for warmth and comfort next to a roaring fire at Riley’s or Brody’s place, sharing their old stories again, the ones that couldn’t hurt them anymore.

  7

  Lies

  Amelia, September 6, 2244, Reston.

  For a week now she’s been telling them to stop bothering her, that she was fine, but they just wouldn’t stop. Laurel came every morning, dropping off food for her, and always a collection of sweet-smelling blooms from her garden. Max and Lancer came in the evenings, followed by Brody, later than everybody. She couldn’t talk to them, not any of them, so she never let them in, none but Ella. Ella she let in so she could check on her, but after this morning when Ella told her she was healing fine, she wouldn’t need to let her in either.

  She stayed in, not venturing beyond her little backyard or the window in the kitchen. She watched the deserted street from her perch at the windowsill for hours on end, finally deciding that she was the only person living on it. That’s what she asked Laurel to find for her, a place where she could be alone, and alone she was.

  She drew herself a bath and dropped some of the blooms in the water, enjoying their strange, sweet perfume. Her hair had grown too long, but she didn’t have it in her to ask anyone to cut it. She’d lost a lot of weight. She could see it in the way her bones stuck out, as if in a challenge. She scrubbed over the few old bruises, gingerly at first, and then hard enough to hurt again, to remember how she got them, and quickly washed the rest of her body, suddenly feeling afraid of being in this room, naked and alone.

  She put on a robe, threw her hair into a quick, careless braid, and went to the window, her breath hitching when she saw Riley standing outside, just a few steps away, looking at her.

  “I’ll leave, if you tell me to, Ams,” he said quietly, huge brown eyes looking at her with so much hurt, it made her stomach clench.

  She couldn’t send him away, could tell how hard it was for him to be standing there in front of her. She opened the door, and ran into the kitchen, making tea with all the accompanying noise, digging for cups in her almost empty cabinets, taking her time, hiding.

  He stood with his back to her when she came back into the room with the two tea mugs, not turning around when he heard her set all the stuff on the table.

  “I don’t have any sage, Riley. I might try to grow some…. Please, sit,” she whispered to his back, and sat down, keeping her eyes on the table.

  He walked over to the other side of the table from her and sat, not touching his tea, and she could feel his eyes on her, could feel the heat on her face, making her blush.

  “What do you want?” she asked, needing to get this over with quickly, without hurting him any more than she had already. She heard him move, but she didn’t dare lift her eyes to him, and suddenly she could feel him standing next to her.

  “I want you to look at me, Ams,” Riley said in a whisper.

  She stood, and forced herself to look at the face she’d known for so very long now.

  “I need to know something, and I need to be sure that you are being honest with me…. That you’re not trying to spare me in some way.”

  She nodded and hoped she could take whatever he planned on asking her.

  Riley dropped his eyes for a while, just breathing, and finally took another step closer to her, close enough to where she could see the new tiny lines at the corners of his eyes.

  “When Brody told me you asked Laurel to find you a place, I didn’t know what to do with it, so I did what I thought would make it easier for you. I planned on never coming here or talking to you again, is what I’m saying, not unless you wanted me to, and I didn’t think you ever would, but I can’t do it like that. I can’t do any of it unless I know why you are running from me unless I know it for sure,” he asked, his voice strained, eyes on hers.

  She owed him at least that, she knew, but it hurt her to even look at him. She turned away from him, trying to stay calm and he let her. “I am running so you can do what you should have done a long time ago. So you can move on and find somebody. You need to, Riley. I want you to,” she said very quietly and faced him again.

  His eyes were closed, head down, and he looked so very young, and somehow broken, she couldn’t help herself.

  She took a step to him and put her hand on his cheek.

  Riley flinched, but still didn’t look at her, keeping his hands in fists at his sides. She felt the muscles in his jaw tense under her fingers and took her hand away, not wanting to embarrass him or hurt him.

>   He lifted his eyes to her, watching her, waiting for her to say something else, but she couldn’t think of a thing to say to him to make it any easier on him. She just wished whatever it was that they did to her to wake her up they could undo, but she couldn’t tell him that.

  “I need to know if you meant what you said to me then, Ams. I’ll never bring it up again, I swear. I just need to know,” he asked very quietly and dropped his eyes as if to make it easier for her.

  It didn’t matter. She couldn’t lie to him, not after what she’d already done to him. “No,” she whispered.

  Riley looked at her, as if not quite believing what she’d said, looked at her unblinking, and she didn’t see the anger in his eyes, just hurt. Hurt she caused him.

  She wanted to run or at least turn away from him, but she couldn’t do that to him again. She earned this, every bit of the pain she felt at being so close to him.

  Riley finally stepped back and dipped his head. “Thank you, Ams,” he said. She watched his slow walk to the door, watched as he reached for the handle, his head still bowed. “I won’t trouble you again. You have my word,” he whispered, and he was out the door and then running, running as fast as she’d ever seen him run, not once glancing back.

  She dropped to the old, wooden floor and cried until the light outside turned dark and she could barely see anything in front of her. She lit a candle, not wanting too much light, and looked at herself in the small hallway mirror, really looked at herself, for the first time since she got back. Her face was thin, thinner than it’s been in years, making her eyes look much too large for her face. She could see a few sharp lines at the corners of her mouth, making her face seem almost cruel, cold. She turned away, hating what she’d done and what it had done to her, and to the boy she’d hurt worse than anything.

  She ran into her bedroom and quickly dressed in an old, too-large-now pair of jeans and a simple black tee, threw on a pair of field boots, and grabbed a small ray, blowing out the candle on her way out. She walked down the painfully familiar streets, staying in the shadows once she got closer to where the rest of everybody lived, and flicked the ray off.