“What? Oh, right, sorry. I want Chase locked up again.”
“Bex,” my father sighs placatingly.
“No,” Reed cuts across him, shaking his shaggy blond head. “That’s quite enough, Jeffrey. Stop indulging her.”
“Excuse me,” I sneer, my lip curling. “Stay out of this, Reed. I was speaking to my father.”
“Correction,” he drawls. “I was speaking to your father until you so rudely interrupted. No,” he snaps, as my dad starts to step between us, trying to defuse the situation, “stop protecting her. You,” he points his finger in my face, so close that I take a step back, “you stop behaving like some goddamned prima donna. You’ve been awake, what, not even forty-eight hours and you’ve managed to piss off every person who has ever helped you. Stop behaving like a brat, Rebecca, and grow up.”
I open my mouth to lash out at him, to retaliate, but he turns his back on me and states in a loud voice, “Now, Jeffrey, where were we?”
Red-faced and humiliated, I become acutely aware that every eye in the room is fixed on us. Vowing that I will have it out with Reed later, that this conversation is not over, I beat a hasty retreat. It is only when I am back out in the open air that I realise I have nowhere to go. Without thinking, I smash my fist into the brick wall beside me. There is a sickening crunch as three of my knuckles break, and I give a howl of anguish.
“Mom?” I turn to see Alex watching me apprehensively.
“That was a silly thing to do,” another youthful voice pipes up and I catch sight of Brooke standing right behind my son, her green eyes narrowed reprovingly.
“It was,” I agree, mortified. I bend down and ruffle Alex’s hair, grinning at Brooke over his shoulder. Brooke was in a very bad way when we found her; her mother had died and she had collapsed on the street, no match for the coyote that had attacked her. Henry had not rated her chances of survival very highly but, astonishingly, she had pulled through and made a full recovery. We discovered that Brooke possessed the ability to heal. What we don’t know, is the why or the how – my father had performed extensive tests and concluded that Brooke had never been Gifted through any procedure. He theorised she may have inherited her ability, but this didn’t make any sense. As far as we know, no other child, with the exception of Alex, has ever inherited their parent’s abilities, but when I pointed this out my father had simply maintained that evolution could not be explained. Idly, I wonder if my dad is mistaken, and if Brooke’s mother may have known the elusive Jupiter. A clever and confident little girl, she and Alex have become firm friends, the fact that they are the only two Gifted children in our community making them ideal playmates.
“What are you two up to?” I ask. “No school today?”
“Mom, it’s Saturday!” Alex rolls his eyes at me.
“Indeed it is,” I grin. “So, what would you like to do?” Anything to distract him from what he has just witnessed.
“Play ball?”
“You got it.”
Galloping around the field, I forget for a moment the difficulties I am facing. Like a breath of fresh air, the two children revitalise me. Thankful that I don’t need to use my hands to play, I am relieved when the familiar tingling starts in my fingers. My healing, at least, is working. But even without my abilities, I am still a hero to the children, and Alex whoops with glee as he scores yet another goal. He and Brooke high-five each other and then get back into position. I am so caught up in the moment that I don’t notice when Aidan strolls onto the field, until he scoops Alex up from behind. Alex goes into peals of laughter and kicks his legs vigorously, trying to escape his father’s clutches.
“Be on my team, Dad?” he hollers when his feet finally touch the ground.
Aidan nods. “The girls don’t stand a chance, champ,” he grins mischievously.
“We’ll see about that,” I retort, calling Brooke over to my side.
I can’t help but laugh as our competition intensifies. Unlike this morning with Michael, it doesn’t matter now if I win or lose. Alex’s delight is infectious and Aidan is relaxed and happy, stealing the ball away from right under my nose and running up towards their goal. I sprint after him, trying unsuccessfully to swipe the ball back, but I trip over my own feet and he grabs my arm as I stumble. Looking up into his warm brown eyes, his words come back to me. This is what my life would be like if I had never been Gifted, if I had chosen a different path. A lifetime of laughter and happy memories, with Aidan always by my side. Playing football with my family without the weight of the world on my shoulders. Frozen in the moment, our eyes locked, neither of us notices when Alex sneaks the ball away and speeds towards his goal.
And then reality asserts itself, and I wrench my arm away from Aidan as though he has burned me.
“Rebecca,” he groans as I pull away, sounding exhausted.
“I think we’re tied,” I say, deliberately looking back to where Alex is still dribbling the ball. Brooke, standing beside him with her hands on her hips, looks petulant.
“Don’t do this, don’t pull away from me,” he pleads, but I ignore him and jog over to give Alex a squeeze and console Brooke over their recent goal.
“We’ve got them on the run, Brooke,” I grin at her. Her startling green eyes crinkle at the corners as she realises we are still playing.
Later, I swallow my pride and pay the good doctor a visit.
“I still don’t understand why my abilities aren’t working, Henry.”
“Not working?” he scoffs. “Three days ago you were in a coma, Rebecca. Today you were playing football with your son. I’d say your healing is definitely working.”
“What about my speed, my strength?”
“Give it time.”
I am sick to death of hearing these words, but I thank him and leave his practice room, which was no doubt the old infirmary. As I round the first corner, I come face to face with Sofia heading in the opposite direction.
“Hi,” I greet her, feeling slightly uncomfortable.
Before I was injured, when Aidan was suffering from amnesia, he and Sofia were becoming close. I can only assume, from what I heard before I woke up, that their budding relationship ended abruptly when Aidan got his memory back and realised he was still in love with me. Even before that, the dynamics of their relationship had shifted as Aidan’s affection for me grew, but Sofia had stuck closer than a barnacle and had refused to consider that Aidan might transfer his attention to me, intact memory or not. The look on her face confirms my suspicions. Sofia looks embarrassed, and a Morgan-like scowl of dislike mars her exotically pretty face.
“Hello, Rebecca,” she replies stiltedly, her English accent a sharp contrast to her dark Mexican looks. Sofia was raised by Henry and as a result picked up his pronounced intonation. She keeps walking, and I can practically hear her praying that I don’t strike up a conversation. Sympathetic to her broken heart and wounded pride, I simply nod and continue on my way.
If Sofia’s love life is deteriorating, her father Henry’s is just the opposite. I learn that he and Archer’s mother Sienna are planning on getting married. Here in the Rebeldom there is no legal way to get married or divorced, but the two are planning a small ceremony anyway. I knew that they were getting close, but I am still surprised.
“The older you get, the more you realise that time is precious,” my dad explains as I watch Archer and Sofia helping them set up a makeshift wedding arch on the grass of the family park pavilion. “You shouldn’t waste a minute of it. If you find love, you have to grab hold of it with both hands and never let it go. When I met your mother, I just knew that she was the one for me. We didn’t wait long either.”
“You want to get to your point?” I ask, knowing that there is far more to his words than a simple conversation.
“I don’t want you to have any regrets. I know your mother didn’t.” If he thinks that bringing up my mother i
s going to sway me from my mission, he is wrong.
“My mother didn’t have a war to win,” I remind him bluntly.
The day of the ceremony dawns and if the weather is any indication, the gods are smiling down on the soon-to-be newly-weds. There is not a cloud in the sky and no breeze rustles the leaves. Everyone in the Academy is attending, much to my chagrin, because it means I have no excuse not to go. Without Jenna to help me with my outfit, I settle on a pair of black pants and a pretty grey chiffon blouse with a beaded sash that ties around the neck to hold it up. It is the first time I have ever worn it, and I feel ridiculous. To my amazement, three hundred of the wooden dining hall chairs have been ferried all the way out here and lined up in perfect rows on the grass. I am late, and most seats are already occupied but my dad waves his arm, indicating an empty chair beside him a few rows from the front. It is only when I take my seat between him and Alex that I notice that Reed is on his other side, and Aidan is next to Alex, with Brooke sitting on his lap so she can see over the heads of those in front of us.
“Good thing this isn’t awkward,” I mumble, folding my hands in my lap and keeping my eyes on the wedding arch which has been transformed into a thing of beauty by the intricate weaving of flowers. No doubt Sienna’s work. Henry has rustled up an old suit, which has been lovingly pressed, and the smile creasing his old face makes him look years younger. Archer stands proudly beside him as the best man. Sienna, tall and regal in a simple cream dress, coaxes a collective sigh from the guests as she sweeps up the aisle, walking slightly too fast for the shorter Sofia who is tripping along behind her. As usual, Sofia looks astonishingly pretty with her dark hair swept off her face in a low bun, from which loose tendrils are already escaping. She manages to smile at Aidan while simultaneously scowling at me as she passes our row.
The service itself is short and sweet, and I join the throng making their way to the dining hall for lunch-cum-reception.
“Did you have a wedding, Mom?” Alex asks, linking arms with me. He is holding Aidan’s hand on his other side and over his head I meet Aidan’s gaze.
“Yes,” I answer, smiling down at him and a look of disgust crosses over Aidan’s face. Aidan and I never got married, not legally. But I did marry Eric Dane in a lavish ceremony fit for the First Family. What I don’t add is that I would have traded that extravagant affair for the simple, sincere ceremony I had just witnessed, in a heartbeat.
chapter 7
Mercifully, with each day that passes, I can feel my body becoming stronger. Michael is delighted with my progress on the track field, not letting me miss a day’s training. He is getting far too into character, bossing me around like a drill sergeant. We are not deterred even when it rains, moving instead to the indoor track in the Field House. Kwan is slowly putting me through the motions of my original Taekwondo training and I am pleased that while I am nowhere near my former capability, it now takes Morgan at least ten seconds before she pins me to the floor.
I spend more time with Alex, and only with him do I let my guard down. Alex is my son, and I will not let my hatred of Kenneth Williams and NUSA destroy the one good thing left in my life. My relationship with Aidan, on the other hand, is deteriorating rapidly. I find that I am distancing myself from him more and more as the days go by, for numerous reasons. For the first time Aidan’s weakness becomes apparent. Although Gifted with the ability to heal, Aidan is neither strong nor fast, and he is no fighter. I need to surround myself with only the strong and the powerful if I am to have any hope of winning this war. I am also irrationally starting to blame Aidan for my abilities not returning, as if he is rubbing off on me. Whenever I spend time with him, which is sometimes unavoidable because of Alex, I feel that he is weakening me, slowly breaking down my resolve. Being around Aidan makes me softer, more compassionate, and these are not qualities that will help me defeat NUSA. In fact, they are just the opposite – they could likely be my downfall.
Every now and then I catch sight of the Lakeside Five on the grounds, but they avoid us as far as possible. Adam tells me that they have their own section of the Academy and seldom venture out of it.
“They’ll be glad to see the back of us,” he adds.
“When we take back the States they can have the Academy back, all to themselves.”
He sighs at this. “I just wish I could get through to them.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because they’re people, Rebecca. Just like us. And we weren’t designed to be alone. The Deranged are proof of that – look at what being abandoned and isolated has reduced them to. It’s a slow descent into madness.”
“You can’t force them to accept us, or to become a part of our community.”
“No, I can’t. But hopefully I can convince them.”
Personally, I think that Adam is wasting his time, but I keep that to myself.
The raids continue but I barely monitor their progress, leaving this to the General. I have become obsessed with only one immediate goal: to find Jupiter and his lab, and convince him to Gift all our willing soldiers. Unfortunately, there is no way I can guarantee my success in reaching him if my Gifts do not return. David who, despite his strength, is more brains than brawn, with the added benefit of having been a chief engineer in the town planning office when he was still working undercover in Chicago, is working on a few ideas as to how we can access the States. I have a few ideas of my own that I have not yet shared with the others, but everything depends on how quickly I recover. Morgan suggested they head to Missouri without me, but I rebuked her loudly for undermining my authority.
“Bex,” my father’s voice interrupts my musings. I am sitting alone in the dining hall, my empty plate on the table in front of me. I ignore the implication as my father glances around the crowded room and then at the empty chairs beside me. “Eating alone?”
“I’m meeting Kwan at the dojo in a few minutes,” I reply so that he knows that I am in a hurry.
“I’ll be quick, then.” He takes a seat. “I wanted to talk to you about this morning’s meeting.”
“What about it?” Nothing of particular interest had arisen this morning as far as I could recall. I narrow my eyes as I catch sight of Jenna and Chase entering the hall and my father swivels in his chair to find the source of my irritation.
“He hasn’t done anything to intimate he can’t be trusted.” His voice is reproachful.
“He hasn’t done anything to prove otherwise either,” I retort. “But he can stay where he is for now. I have plans for Chase . . .”
“I don’t even want to know.” My father shakes his head. “Now, about this morning. I wanted to talk to you about your conscription proposal.”
“What about it?” I am curious.
“Well, I think it’s a bit extreme, for one thing.”
“We’re at war, Dad, not a tea party.”
It is inevitable that he would disagree with my idea to force members of our community to enlist in the Legion. In fact, a few months ago I was dead set against the idea myself. The General thought of it first, but in my stubborn naivety I had refused even to consider his suggestion. The thought of forcing people to risk their lives appalled and disgusted me. But that was then. Now I know better. Without more Gifted soldiers we are doomed to fail – a few deaths are an acceptable collateral in order to save thousands.
“It’s hypocrisy, Bex, plain and simple!” He raises his voice. Although I am not surprised that he disagrees with me, I am surprised by the level of anger radiating off him. “One of the basic premises that the Resistance is based on is free will. It was taken from us, and we want it back. How is forcing people against their will any different to what Eric Dane did . . . to what Kenneth is doing now?”
“Don’t you dare compare me to that son of a bitch!” I hiss, my lip curled as my own anger threatens to boil over.
“Don’t lose sight of our values, then.”
“The General agrees with me,” I say smugly.
“The General has always wanted us to take this line,” he snaps back, “which is precisely why he has never been in charge.” The implication of his words is like being doused in icy water.
“You’re saying I’m not fit to lead the Legion?” My chest swells in outrage.
“I’m saying that your beliefs and values have always been what makes you the best person to lead us. My concern is that those values have changed, and if they have, where does that leave our people?”
“I will do what is best for everybody. I have to go. I’m late,” I add dismissively, getting to my feet.
Looking back, I should have known that I was being driven by pure primal instinct. Hate had replaced love as my primary motive, and anger was raging inside me. Nobody understood what I had been through, nobody had done more for the Resistance than I had, and yet here they all were, judging me, pointing out my flaws. Selfishly, I wanted to feel better. And I knew exactly what would make me.
“Tiny,” Reed opens the door and glances past me into the hallway. “What are you doing . . .?”
I don’t allow him to finish the question. I didn’t come here to talk. I grab fistfuls of his hair and pull him down towards me, at the same time forcing him back into the small dorm room, and kicking the door shut behind me. His jaw drops open in astonishment and I seize the opportunity to kiss him as hard as I can, letting the heady sensation fill my senses and drive out everything else. I can feel the moment that he hesitates, pushing me gently away, so I leap up and wrap my legs around him, pressing myself against his hard, lean body and tugging his shirt up his back. He stops resisting and the next few minutes are wild and fierce, punctuated by heat and sweat, and an almost animal-like frenzy. It is all over in a matter of minutes, my weakened body sore but sated.
Abruptly, I push myself off Reed, who for once seems at a loss for words. Unabashedly, I make my way around the room, retrieving my discarded clothing, and his eyes follow my every move. I am buttoning up my jeans when he finally finds his tongue.
The Legend Page 5