Even the visicasters were buzzing with this development. They talked over each other, making it difficult to understand what was happening.
Chaos erupted around Dade. Hundreds of people screaming, running away from him like a starburst.
She tried to memorize his features, the slide of his brow, his strong, confident nose. Because she knew the outcome. Even though she had yet to see what happened next, she knew. Her heart lodged in her throat as the hand that held the datapad shook uncontrollably. She felt sick and utterly devastated, not wanting to calculate his odds of survival, yet unable to stop herself. Her heart thumped loudly in her ears. The darkness of despair pressed against her mind.
Another blast hit Dade. This time it pushed him off his feet and over the side of the skyway. He fell, his arms flung wide, simply surrendering, no fight left in his body. She watched his body as it was swallowed up by the static, so thickly gray that it took the view of his last moments of life away from her.
Arden pressed her fist against her mouth to block the desperate sounds leaking from it. Tears left her eyes, unchecked now. She gasped in half breaths, half sobs. Never quite able to fully inhale. Her heart broke. She could feel the ghost of it in her chest, a blinding pain that twisted into knots. She’d never touch his sun-warmed skin again. Never kiss his lips or smell his skin.
This could not happen. She refused to accept it. Why hadn’t he told her about his plans? She would have helped him.
Arden understood the need to escape. They were together in that. Now that he was gone, she didn’t want to live by herself. He was her sun-star. She couldn’t survive in the darkness without him. There was nothing left for her here. Not anymore.
That was when she realized that the best way to honor him was to hit those bastards where it counted, even if it meant her death. She’d pay them back for taking Dade from her. He was the only good thing in her life.
The tears fell faster now. Her breath morphing into gasping sobs. She gazed at the datapad, watching the last few moments of his life replayed over and over again. Through the tears and heartbreak, she managed a sad smile. They’d be together soon. He’d kept his promise. He’d sworn that he would not marry Clarissa. And Arden would not waste that sacrifice. If they couldn’t be together in life, they’d be together in death.
Her datapad vibrated in her hands. It was enough to startle her out of her stupor. She blinked a moment, orienting herself. Then swiped the tablet to pull up her pings.
Niall’s summons rang with authority: Project Blackout initiated. Check in immediately.
Her decision became clear, the opportunity like kismet—being called to duty felt right. Her path made sense now. She’d right this wrong for Dade and herself. Fix the mess of the world before she left it, even the score if she could.
Dade must be avenged. It was a fitting sacrifice to honor him. Her decision was made before she could fully recognize it. Retribution must be dealt to his family and to the govies. Everyone must pay. It didn’t matter if they were manipulating Lasair to attack, as Dade had warned. They would all die today.
Her life was forfeit with the attempt, and that was okay. She accepted it. She’d eventually join Dade in the ever after, regardless. First, she had work to do. They killed him, as much as if they’d used their hands. The govies were in the Solizen pockets. If the govies acted against Dade, then his family knew and had something to do with it. The govies and the Croix family would regret that.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Arden slapped a charge stick to the end of her blast-phaser. It wasn’t like the small phasers that she normally carried. This phaser was three feet long, and she’d wear it strapped over her shoulder. This one meant business. Once she made sure it was in working order, she began to strip it apart to clean each piece. Arden lined up the components beside her along with the smaller weapons and knives she needed to sharpen.
They’d gathered in a staging area, an abandoned gym in an older part of the city conveniently located in the center of three bolt-holes they’d use to infiltrate Above for this mission. It was a larger group than they’d ever assembled in one place. There were at least a hundred members of several gangs coexisting together. Normally they wouldn’t even consider it, as it was far too dangerous to congregate in a group so large, let alone to act as a unit. The other gangs and Lasair didn’t necessarily get along. But that didn’t matter anymore because they’d come together for a greater purpose. They were going to show the Solizen that they may have locked up Undercity, but the people were rising up to demand freedom. And, yes, there was also a more selfish motive: at the end of the day, it opened up the doors for someone else to rule the city. Then it would be each gang for itself.
Moving a group this size took a massive amount of coordination. Thankfully, that task didn’t fall to her. Niall hadn’t protested when she’d glared and said that she was there to fight, not to play babysitter. He’d left her alone after that. Then she’d volunteered for the most dangerous job, to infiltrate with the first group, the sweeping team. They’d secure the location for the rest of the gang to come in after.
She surreptitiously studied the faces of those around her. She didn’t recognize many of them. Arden had good recall and had met most of their gang, except for some of the runners or newer members. Which meant that Niall had recruited.
They were clearly trained. The way they put together and inspected their weapons with military precision spoke of experience. These guys seemed shady, as most pay-for-play mercenaries were. Without any ties or affiliation, they couldn’t be trusted.
Some of them were from rival gangs. Those faces she recognized. They huddled in groups, giving a wide berth to the rest of the room. Lasair didn’t work well with others. Who knew what sorts of deals Niall had brokered behind the gang’s backs, a frightening revelation because every deal had a bite.
Arden figured she wouldn’t be around to see it implode, so she pushed that concern from her mind.
As she continued to clean and go over her equipment, she watched them. It was important to identify those who might stab her in the back if given a chance—all of them probably. Her gaze wandered while her hands remained busy at her task.
Tension was like static in the air. It felt like a crackling energy. The jovial bickering that usually amped them into action was lacking. The mood was somber and angry. The tide had changed. Undercity had joined together to create mutiny. It wasn’t for Arden to say whether that was good or not. She honestly didn’t know, nor did she care. She couldn’t consider a future she probably wouldn’t see.
For a moment, she allowed herself to feel the pain creep past the wall she’d constructed around it. It splintered her soul, harsh with jagged edges that cut deep. Arden couldn’t help but suck in a breath, cut again by the fact that both Colin and Dade—even Niall—were gone, lost to this insanity they’d created. She was alone. Everyone she loved and trusted had left her, either from this world or into the drugs and revenge that fed their life.
She felt tears prick the back of her eyes, and blinked them away. Not here. She could not be vulnerable today. Today was for strength and revenge. It was the only way. Arden concentrated on her task. Closing her eyes, finding her center, and then letting out a long, slow exhale.
She timed her breaths with the movement of her rag across the surface of the metal. It was a task she enjoyed. A centering, so that when she was in the thick of it, she felt as if she had some control. Her breathing slowed, making her focus on just this moment and not on what was to come. Making sure she was free of any negative thinking, taking pride in making her work as efficient as possible. Her skill and attention to detail would keep her alive long enough to get the job done. She wanted retribution, and she couldn’t rely on anyone else to give it to her.
Someone stepped into her peripheral vision. Waiting to be acknowledged. Arden glanced up enough to see skintight black pants. She knew who it was before she looked up into Mariah’s face.
Mariah didn’
t appear to be much better than Arden felt. Her expression was pinched, her skin pulled taut around her eyes. Her hair was tied back, and she wore no makeup. She seemed tired, as if she hadn’t been sleeping well.
“Can I talk to you?” she asked.
Arden didn’t want to talk, but she found herself nodding. They hadn’t spoken since the rescue, partly because Mariah had been recovering, and partly because Arden still felt guilty for not stopping her capture. Arden found herself avoiding direct eye contact with Mariah even now.
Mariah took a seat next to her. She didn’t say anything for long enough that Arden finished cleaning the phaser she held, before looking up at her, questioningly. That seemed to be Mariah’s cue to speak. She rubbed her palms on the knees of her pants, flexing her fingers before she began. “I know you’re avoiding me.”
“I’m not,” Arden automatically denied.
Mariah blew a breath while slapping her hands onto her legs and rubbing them. She glanced away. “Right.”
Arden began to reassemble her phaser, not needing to watch her hands work the movements they’d been long trained to do blindfolded. The conversation would stall if Mariah wasn’t going to speak, because Arden certainly didn’t know what to say.
She stared off, her attention snagged by her brother. Niall was practically a moving corpse. He watched the other gangs with bloodshot, glassy eyes. Bones protruded from his paper-thin skin, leached of color, with heavy dark circles lining his eyes. His lank, greasy hair had been messily tied. She could see the telltale faint red bruising under his nose.
He was going to get himself killed today, either by the fight or a rival gang. He was too weak to lead. Everyone knew it.
Coming to terms with the realization that she’d lose yet another family member to death cut her to the quick. Stole what remained of her sanity. Pain and guilt once again assaulted her. Hot like flash fire, appearing all of a sudden, burning up her chest and lungs. She swallowed, desperate to stop it. Seeking that cool blank space that would let her breathe.
Kimber stood close to Niall, practically glued to his side. Her sketchiness had only grown in the last few weeks. It made Arden suspicious. Kimber would sneak looks at the other gang members, giving them covert signals that spoke volumes. She was planning something.
And Niall was too high to see it.
Not her problem, Arden reminded herself. None of this would matter in a few hours.
“Okay, I get it, you’re upset with me,” Mariah said, breaking into Arden’s rolling thoughts.
Arden startled, her hands falling still, and she pulled herself back to the conversation. She knew she sounded surprised when she asked, “What are you talking about?”
Mariah licked her lips, hesitating.
“You can’t say something like that and then not back it up.” Arden put the phaser on the bench next to her, and then turned to face Mariah. “Explain to me why I’m angry with you.”
Mariah gave a half shrug. “I know you spent a lot of time trying to find me.” She paused. “And that I’m expendable. Not like Colin.”
“Colin’s death has nothing to do with you.” Her words brought her even more pain. She hadn’t suppressed any of her pain over Dade yet, and now Colin was in the forefront of her mind. The last thing Arden wanted to do was dwell on the fact that he wasn’t beside her, as he should be.
“Right,” Mariah agreed much too quickly. “I mean, I know that you have other things on your mind.”
“I do,” Arden said. She wanted Mariah to get to the point and then to be gone. Her presence reminded her of everything she’d lost, rubbing salt into the wound. She wanted to stay numb. It was impossible to do that when someone asked questions that pricked her brain and emotions. “What is it you want?”
“Thank you for rescuing me,” Mariah said quietly. She looked down into her lap, twisting her hands together.
“It was a group effort.” Arden didn’t need credit. Didn’t want it. Credit came with heaps of self-recrimination. And she had enough of that to fuel her through the day.
“But you traded in favors. That has to mean something.”
That made her think of Dade, and damn it, she didn’t want to. Arden picked up a soft cloth and the phaser once more, starting the cleaning process all over again. She focused on each vigorous swipe of the rag.
Mariah nibbled her bottom lip. “Why are you here?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know this is a suicide mission. You’ve been vocal about it. We’re not going to survive this.”
Arden snorted and kept polishing her phaser. “I could ask you the same thing.”
Mariah swallowed. “I owe the gang.”
“No, you don’t,” Arden said. She stopped to give Mariah her full attention. “It wasn’t the gang who saved you. If you don’t want to be here, you shouldn’t.”
Maybe Arden could save one person, save Mariah. Hadn’t she tried that before, though?
“I can’t leave.” Mariah looked over to where Uri worked, cleaning and assembling his own weapons. Then she looked back at Arden. “You know how it is, you risk everything because someone else is more important to you than your own life.”
Before, Arden would have agreed automatically, even though she didn’t really know, had never really understood. Now she did. And the knife in her chest twisted. A little panting sob, which she immediately coughed over, broke through. Sacrifice was toxic.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The explosion knocked Arden on her ass. She couldn’t see anything beyond the debris littering the air. The once-pristine silver-and-white-walled refinery was now stained with smoke from the bombs they’d planted, light from the phase-fire cutting through the murkiness. She got off the ground, shooting as she ran through a hollowed-out area into the next room and hiding behind a now-mangled machine.
She coughed behind the body mask covering her face. Grit stung her eyes, making them water. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear them.
Mariah slid up next to her from the opposite direction. Her back also pressed against the broken machine. Mariah had ditched her mask at some point, her face stained with ash. Finger widths of soot had been rubbed clean, pushed from around her eyes, where she’d dug out the grime to see. “We can’t go back that way. There’re too many of them.”
Arden nodded, looking back the way she’d come. Knowing that direction was cut off. They could only move forward, which was what the mercenaries they were fighting wanted. They’d blocked them in, goading them onto a predetermined path to face whatever waited for them at the end.
Blackout had been screwed since the beginning. Which was exactly as Arden had foreseen. Lasair had expected resistance, not a trained private army. The rival fighters knew what they were doing. Their plan and implementation were shaping up to be far superior to Lasair’s.
“Did you get the charges set?” Mariah asked.
“Almost. This is the last batch I have for Level Seven.” Arden dug into her bag to extract a bundle of explosives. “How about you?”
Mariah nodded. “South corner is done.”
“Cover me.”
Mariah nodded, switching positions with Arden. She leaned over the bulk of the machine to shoot at the closest group of mercenaries.
Arden swung her phaser onto her back so she could concentrate on attaching the trip wires to the explosives. Her hands shook, and her movements were slow and awkward because of her still-healing shoulder. She wasn’t wearing a bandage, only a thin layer of quick-seal. It pulled when she moved, tingeing everything she did with pain.
The constant ache reminded her of Dade and Colin. Focused her on the reasons she was doing this. Kept her moving forward even though they were greatly outnumbered.
A hit came close, striking the front of the machine, spraying debris. Mariah pulled back. “Hurry up.”
Arden wiped at the sweat that had collected under her face mask. She did not want to ditch it quite yet, as it afforded her some protection from
the elements and would help her breathe if the mercenaries used smoke. She connected the last few wires and then used putty to attach the explosives to the wall. “Done.” She checked her watch before setting the charges to detonate. “Three minutes.”
The initial bomb they’d detonated had taken out most of the processing factory on Levels Five and Six of the refinery. The plan was to work their way up so that they could escape into the University District on Level Eight. If they couldn’t manage to get off Level Seven before the detonations, they would be effectively trapped.
She hoped the others on their side were faring better.
Mariah leaned over the edge once more to check their route. She shot off a few rounds before pulling back. “The hole they made for us is getting crowded.”
“No way out but through,” Arden said pragmatically. She leaned out the other side, shooting the whole time. Then pulled a concussion grenade, unpinned it, and chucked it in the direction they needed to move.
Both girls took cover.
The blast shook the area. Then they were on their feet immediately, standing up, shooting, and running. The phase-fire came hard and fast in their direction, but they didn’t change their course.
Arden fought hard. Using no caution. Death was a certainty. She’d die here or later, so it didn’t matter how she used her body or the chances she took. It made her ruthless, bordering on a near-frenzied obsession. Having nothing to live for lent a certain crazed strength to her fighting.
Another blast knocked them behind a crumpled mess of what was once furniture—a desk of some sort, and maybe a twisted bookshelf. Drywall rained on them. Arden shot in several directions before they both stood up again, gaining traction before sliding forward.
The next room was one of the largest by far. Probably a former warehouse. Though now it was hard to tell, as it had been completely destroyed. What it did provide was lots of spots to hide behind.
The Breaking Light (Split City Book 1) Page 22