The Defiant

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The Defiant Page 8

by Lisa M. Stasse


  “Is there a way to fix you?” I ask him. “I mean to make you normal again? Like, can’t they do transplants or something?”

  He nods. “Yes. They could have made me almost back to normal. With a few scars, and a lot of stitches. But I wanted this done to me.”

  “That’s crazy,” I tell him, shocked. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because this is my second life. I feel like I died once already.” He places his metallic fingertip on the table. “But I lived, despite my injuries. Remember that I took a vow once to do everything possible to fight the UNA. When the scientists told me that having computers embedded directly inside me was an option, I immediately saw the potential.”

  “The scientists suggested this? Was my mom involved in your surgeries?”

  “No. In fact, she tried to talk me out of it. But the others were.”

  I want to cry again. The sudden feeling just overwhelms me. “David, they tried to make you into some kind of monster. Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

  “I don’t care what I look like in a mirror, Alenna. None of that stuff matters to me. I’m better than I was before. I have more power.” He smiles again. “Besides, it’s going to take monsters to fight the UNA.”

  “So what happens now?” I gaze at him. “I’ll let myself get captured. I need to find Liam and rescue him.”

  He nods. “You spend the night here. Then in the morning you’ll be taken into the city, under cover, to meet with a rebel group. The group will be raided by police—because I will tip them off—and you will be arrested and sent to the house in the Hellgrounds. From there, you will receive further instructions on what to do, and how to reach Liam.”

  “You really won’t tell me more?”

  “I can’t. It’s easier this way.”

  “Easier for who?”

  “Both of us. They might give you truth serum. I can’t risk your knowing things before you need to.” He blinks. “Just trust me that when you get out of the Hellgrounds, you will have a very tight deadline—and the entire success of our takeover of the UNA depends on you.”

  “You’re sure you won’t tell me more about this detonation, whatever it is?”

  “If they give you truth serum, you won’t be able to keep any secrets. I know that you received torture training on the wheel, and learned how to endure isolation, but the UNA truth serum can break anyone. You already know more than you should.”

  “It doesn’t feel that way.”

  “I know. Just try to get some sleep while you still can,” David says.

  “Yeah, as if that’s likely,” I retort.

  He smiles.

  “You need sleep more than I do,” I tell him. “And I know you’re going to stay up the whole night, working.”

  “We can sleep peacefully only when the UNA has been turned into ashes, right?” he says.

  “Right,” I agree.

  We hug one more time. He feels so fragile. I am both afraid of him and drawn to him.

  I finally turn to leave the room. I glance back once, as he extinguishes the lantern, fading back into darkness. Have I dreamed this encounter? It seems so surreal and confusing.

  I exit the room and carefully shut the door behind me. I walk down the long, curving flight of stairs, to where Kelley is waiting for me.

  “So now you understand,” she says.

  “Some of it.”

  “Let me take you to your bedroom for the night.”

  I nod and follow her. This will be my last night of freedom before I am captured.

  But I’m not really thinking about myself. I’m thinking about the fact that David is still alive. He looks so different, but there are flashes of the old David that I remember.

  I vow to talk to him more in the morning before I get sent to the rebel cell, and then on to the Hellgrounds. I only now realize how much I’ve missed David, and I’m grateful for the chance to spend more time with him before I get sent away.

  6 THE REBELS

  THE NEXT MORNING I wake up in my shabby bedroom. My back hurts from the sagging mattress. It takes me a second to remember that I really am back in the UNA. I stare up at the stained ceiling. Then I shake off the strange feeling, get dressed, and leave the room.

  I don’t search for Kelley and Shawn. I just go straight upstairs to the door of David’s room. I need to talk to him before I leave the safe house. I know he probably won’t answer any questions about my journey, but I want to make sure that he’s doing okay.

  I knock softly on the door. There’s no answer. I turn the doorknob, expecting it to be locked, but it turns easily in my hand.

  “David?” I ask, surprised.

  I push against the door, opening it and stepping inside.

  The blinds are open, and gray light floods the room from the large windows. The curtains have been pulled back. The desk is still there, along with the mattress and the computers on the dusty wooden floor. But there is no sign of David. It’s like he was never there in the first place.

  “David?” I ask hesitantly.

  “He’s already gone,” a voice says from behind my shoulder.

  I turn around. Kelley is watching me.

  “When did he leave?” I ask her.

  “Last night. When you finally went to sleep.”

  “Is he somewhere else in the house?”

  “No. He couldn’t risk it.”

  I nod. I don’t need to ask any questions about why. I know why he left. So that if I’m caught and interrogated, I can’t give away his location.

  “Is he safe?” I ask Kelley.

  She nods. “David will be fine. He’s a survivor. And he’s a key figure in our plans for a revolution.”

  “How did he get so much power?” I ask her. “It almost seems like he’s running things.”

  “He’s not, but he’s vitally important. Since he was twelve, he was groomed to revolt against the UNA—” She breaks off suddenly. “I shouldn’t say more. Ask him yourself if you see him again. You two were close on Island Alpha, right?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  She looks at me. “Was there something between the two of you? On the wheel? More than friendship?”

  The question comes out of nowhere. I can’t believe she just asked me something so personal. “No,” I tell her awkwardly. “Why would you think that?”

  “Intuition.” She shrugs. “Guess I was wrong.”

  “Did David say something about me?”

  She shakes her head. “No. But he left you a note downstairs on the kitchen table.”

  I move past her quickly, immediately heading down the stairs to get it.

  “I didn’t read it,” she calls out behind me. “It’s still sealed.”

  I get downstairs and head into the kitchen. Shawn is sitting there in a wooden seat, his eyes glued to a digital display.

  “They’re looking for us already,” he says glumly.

  “Of course they are,” I tell him. “What did you expect?”

  I see the letter on the table and I snatch it up. As Kelley promised, the seal is unopened.

  “You don’t have long until men come for you and take you to meet the rebels,” Shawn says.

  “I know.”

  I get the feeling that David didn’t tell Shawn or Kelley that I’m going to be captured on purpose. That’s David’s way. Everyone only knows one piece of the puzzle.

  I walk out of the room, holding the letter, and go into the dingy bathroom. I know this is the one place I won’t be bothered by anyone for a moment. I sit on the closed toilet and tear open the envelope.

  I’m not sure what I’m expecting exactly, but my heart is racing. I slide out a sheet of paper folded in threes.

  As I do this, an object falls out of the paper and onto the ratty carpet. I lean over and pick it up. It’s a thin metal key on a chain, like the kind that might open a safe-deposit box. I hold it in one hand, as I unfold the piece of paper.

  It’s blank.

  I turn it over. Nothing.
I feel disappointed, and a bit insulted. I don’t know what I expected. Some kind of message, at the least. But there’s only the key. David didn’t even leave me a note.

  Sighing, I stand up and put the chain around my neck to keep the key safe. I fold up the paper and the envelope and put them in my back pocket.

  Typical David, I think. But then I realize that maybe he didn’t know what to say. I assume the key has something to do with the bomb—or whatever it is—that I have to detonate. I must keep the key safe and make sure it doesn’t get taken from me by anyone.

  I’m about to leave the room, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair is messy and I pull it back, trying to smooth it down. I see circles under my eyes from tiredness and worry. I look like a stranger. I try not to think about Liam and what he’s going through right now. Soon enough I will be joining him in the Hellgrounds.

  I hear a voice call my name. It’s Kelley.

  “They’re here!” she says, from outside the bathroom.

  “I’ll be right there,” I tell her, looking at myself for a final time.

  Then I leave the bathroom and step into the hall.

  Kelley is standing there. “Someone is waiting for you.”

  “Already?”

  She nods. “Come this way.”

  I follow her through the house and out a side door. I step into the cool air. The sky is gray, but rays of sunlight occasionally poke through the cloud cover.

  A flatbed truck is parked in the driveway, carrying a load of large square boxes and straw. Shawn is standing outside talking to the driver, a burly man in a thick jacket and a cap.

  “Alenna?” the driver calls out.

  “That’s me.”

  I walk over to him. He sticks out his hand. “It’s best if you don’t know my name,” he tells me, “but it’s an honor to meet you.”

  I shake his hand.

  “You can call me Tomas if you want, but it’s not my real name. Let me show you how we’re taking you to meet the other rebels,” he says. He moves around to the back of the truck. “Look. Right in here.”

  I peer into the back. He shoves aside a few boxes to reveal a narrow hiding place beneath the cargo.

  “It’s an old-fashioned method, but it works,” he says. “We’ll never get stopped by the police, even though technically, we’re an illegal vehicle.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The UNA elite like to get unprocessed foods from farms in the country. Not for the citizens, just for themselves. That’s where my truck comes in. It’s meant to take fresh goods from the country to the lavish homes and apartments in the city where the local leaders of the UNA live. Fresh fruit, fresh vegetables. Everything they deprive the regular citizens of. So I bring them their fresh produce, but I’ve also used this truck to transport about fifty rebels, right under their noses.” He smiles, like he’s laughing at a joke. “Not all at once, I mean. But one by one.”

  I nod. I can tell he has no idea that I’m going to be captured today. He just seems happy to meet me and help me reach the rebels. I wonder what he would think of David’s plan. What will happen to the other rebels at the meeting once I get captured? Will they be exposed? Will they be killed?

  “Let me help you on board,” Tomas says. “We don’t have much time.”

  As Kelley and Shawn watch, I clamber into the hiding space and lie flat. The man puts some boxes back, so that I’m completely hidden from view.

  “You good?” he calls out.

  “Yep,” I call back.

  “It’ll take about half an hour to get there. Hang tight, Alenna.” He starts walking around to the driver’s side of the truck. I hear him open the door.

  Then pale fingers suddenly poke through the slats on the side of the truck. It’s Kelley.

  “Good luck, Alenna,” she says. Surprising me, her voice is warm with emotion. “I want you to know that I’m rooting for you. I know you can do this—whatever it is that the scientists or David have told you to do.”

  I grab on to her fingers and squeeze. “Thank you for everything,” I tell her, glad for a moment of human warmth.

  Then the noise of the engine starts up with a clatter. Kelley pulls her hand back. I feel the truck slowly start to move. I just lie there, as though I’m in a coffin. The vehicle backs out of the driveway and onto the road. Soon we are picking up speed.

  I remain flat in the back of the pickup truck, covered with a layer of boxes. The smell of wood and hay is strong in my nose. I fight the urge to sneeze. It’s hot and uncomfortable. The air is stale, and exhaust fumes from the truck keep seeping into my space. Even though the driver said that we wouldn’t be stopped, I know that anything is possible. Memories of the roadblock from last night are fresh in my mind.

  After thirty minutes of winding through streets, we reach our destination. My body is sore from being jounced around. The truck slows and comes to a complete stop. I have no idea where we are.

  I try to see outside, but I only get little snatches of light through the metal slats in the side of the truck. I can’t really see anything.

  I hear voices above me and I look up. The boxes shake, and I realize that the truck is being unloaded. For an instant, I’m afraid that maybe I’ve ended up in the wrong place.

  Then I hear the driver’s voice. “We’re here, Alenna,” he says.

  I start pushing boxes aside, as more get unloaded from the truck. I burst into the daylight. It’s bright, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust.

  “Where are we?” I ask, looking around.

  Tomas doesn’t answer.

  We’re near a handful of abandoned brick buildings, some bearing battle scars from old gunfire. Scars that were probably made in those years before my parents got taken, when I was a little girl. The scars remain on the rocks, impervious to the passage of time.

  I grab the edge of the truck and then climb down onto the dirt.

  “Is it just us?” I ask.

  Tomas shakes his head. “The others are nearby. They’re prob­ably watching us right now. We’re at the outskirts of the city.”

  “Why are they watching us instead of helping us?”

  He shrugs. “Maybe they don’t trust you yet.”

  “They don’t trust me? We’re taking the bigger risk by coming here.”

  “It’s going to be okay,” Tomas says quietly. “You understand why they’re suspicious. If they’re discovered, then they’ll be arrested and killed, and their families will be in danger as well.”

  “I understand,” I tell him, thinking that I’m glad they don’t know that I’m setting them up. I hope David knows what he’s doing. I don’t want to get innocent people hurt. “Let’s go inside. I’m ready.”

  “Follow me.”

  I walk after him toward the building closest to us. A flash catches my eye and I look up at a smashed-out window. I see the metallic glint of a gun muzzle. I glance around at some of the other windows. These buildings are not as abandoned as I thought. Guns are trained on us from five separate windows. The rebels are not taking any chances.

  We step inside the brick building and pause at the doorway. It takes my eyes a second to adjust to the dim light.

  I’m startled to see a group of about eighty people gathered there in a large room with a low ceiling, watching me walk in. None of them says anything or makes any sound.

  I walk a little farther into the building, with Tomas at my side. I see rebels with guns pointed in my direction, at the edges of the crowd.

  I scan the assembled throng. These people range in age from about twelve to seventy—an equal mix of men and women, and all different races. They are also dressed differently from one another. Some of them look like businessmen. Others look like farmers. But all of them have the same serious look in their eyes. Many of them openly display guns or knives.

  The last time I was in front of a crowd watching me so intensely, I was playing guitar and giving a performance at Destiny Station. But there will be
no guitars or music today. That is in the past.

  The people keep staring back at me. They don’t look friendly, but at least they look prepared to listen.

  “My name is Alenna Shawcross,” I begin. “I’ve come here from Island Alpha, to help your rebel cell, and—”

  “We know who you are,” a woman calls out loudly.

  I falter, falling silent for a second.

  “You escaped from the wheel. My son is there. Eric Vendoza. Do you know him?”

  I shake my head. “No, I—”

  “What about my brother?” a teenage girl cries out. “Jason Goldsmith. Do you know him? Did you see him on the wheel?”

  “No—” I begin again, trying to explain to them how huge Island Alpha is. The chance of me knowing any of their relatives is slim.

  Voices overwhelm me, calling out more names.

  I look at Tomas, confused. I had no idea this was what today would be like. I realize now that most of these people probably became rebels because their loved ones got banished to the wheel.

  The names keep coming faster and faster. This is why they’re here. They don’t want to know what it’s like to escape the wheel. They want to find out if I have any information about their kidnapped family members.

  “Quiet!” a man calls out, cutting through the noise of the crowd. “Stop tossing names at her!” The man steps out from the mob of people, gesturing for their silence. He’s heavyset, wearing overalls. His face is ruddy.

  At first I think he has intervened to help me. But he’s staring at me angrily. “You could be a spy from the UNA, sent here to deceive us—and expose this cell! You could be here to betray us to the government.” He looks out at the crowd. “By giving her the names of your relatives, you’re giving her data. And she will use it against you and your families if she’s a spy.”

  The crowd falls silent, eyeing me suspiciously again. I know that I have to do something to turn things around. While it’s true I’m here on false pretenses, I am not a spy.

  “I don’t work for the UNA,” I declare firmly, shooting the man a fierce gaze. “And I’m sure the government already knows about this cell.” I didn’t expect this kind of response from the rebels. “You don’t understand. The UNA knows almost everything. They just don’t always choose to act on it, because they don’t have unlimited resources.”

 

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