Numbers Raging (Numbers Game Saga Book 3)

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Numbers Raging (Numbers Game Saga Book 3) Page 6

by Rebecca Rode


  Treena’s door opened, and even more soldiers shuffled out into the hallway, shoving their counterparts forward so they could make room. But it was Bike Boy who came stalking out, not Treena.

  He saw me and stumbled to a stop. Then he whirled on the mass of guards. “What in the fates is wrong with you people, letting him in without my permission? This is outrageous. You couldn’t just show him to a waiting room?”

  “Vance isn’t one to wait,” Treena said before anyone could answer. She peeked into the hallway from behind Dresden. Her face looked flushed, whether from embarrassment or anger, I couldn’t tell. She shoved her way past Dresden and flashed an assuring smile at the guards, who grudgingly stepped aside. The other soldiers looked at each other in confusion as she ran into my arms.

  Her hair was slightly longer and reached her shoulders now, but the only other difference was the weariness in her chestnut eyes. She clung to me as if tethering a flighty bird to the earth. I rested my chin on her head and stroked her hair, basking in the expression on Dresden’s face. A little color dotted his cheeks as he met my gaze, and then he huffed and strode away, bringing all but my assigned guards with him.

  “You didn’t tell me you were coming,” Treena whispered as we walked down the hallway a few minutes later, my guards following closely behind. Treena hadn’t seemed too excited about having Denoux’s soldiers in her quarters, and it was clear they wouldn’t leave, so we’d gone for a leisurely stroll down the white hallways of the Council Building. Well, as leisurely as you could get with two soldiers in front and two behind.

  “There wasn’t time, really,” I told her. “I didn’t decide to come until last night.”

  She stopped. “Why? Is there something wrong?”

  “You could say that.”

  We passed another guard stationed at the end of a hallway. There were definitely more than usual on duty. Was Bike Boy being paranoid about his own safety these days, or was it my presence here?

  “Tell me all about it,” she said, “but first there’s something you should know. The convention has been moved up. I leave in two days.”

  I wanted to groan. That didn’t leave us much time to prepare. I’d intended to help her pick a security team and go over the details of her lodgings and transportation there, and maybe drill her on a few more defensive tactics. A large city like Liverpool would offer plenty of opportunities for assassins.

  “Then we really need to talk.” I waited until we turned a corner, then took the opportunity to slip the recorder into Treena’s hand. She gripped it and turned to me in surprise.

  “Ju-Long?” she whispered.

  I nodded. “He was unusually chatty last night. But one thing he said bothered me, and I had to talk to you about it. I think President Chiu is coming to the convention.”

  She relaxed, slipping the recorder into her pocket. “Dresden asked the NP organizational committee, and they said Chiu has been invited every year since he became president six years ago. He never comes.”

  “That doesn’t mean he won’t, and apparently he has quite the reputation for taking his enemies out. We need to prepare for the possibility that he wants to disrupt things and get in your way. Or worse. It’s time to consider sending someone else in your place.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Treena—”

  “No. I’m going,” she said firmly. “I refuse to send somebody else if it means they could be in danger. Besides, I’ve spent months preparing for this. This is too important.”

  “There must be another way. You don’t have to do this.”

  She cocked her head. “If you’re that worried, maybe you should come. I was hoping you could be my head of security. You know, stay close at all times?”

  I shook my head, heart heavy in my chest.

  Her grin faded a bit when she saw my face. “Whoa. What’s the matter? Is everyone all right? Coltrane, your sisters? Ruby?”

  “They’re fine. You know I want to come with you. More than anything. But the convention will last a week or two, and I can’t leave the settlement that long. Besides, my sisters—I’m all they have left.” Lucy would never forgive me. You promised.

  Treena’s face fell, and she turned away. “It’s all right. I know you have a heavy load right now.” The hurt in her eyes made me want to sweep her up and kiss the pain away.

  “I’d worry about you even if Chiu didn’t come, Treena. It’s a brave plan, but I wouldn’t trust Dresden’s security to open a door for you, much less keep you alive in a strange city.”

  We passed three more guards who watched us with interest. Treena thought she was an honored guest here, but it was easy to see the truth. She was a prisoner. Not behind bars of metal but behind guarded looks and glares of suspicion. No wonder she looked so tired.

  “I’ll find someone else to go for you,” I said. “Maybe you can come back to the settlement for a little while, take a break from the stress.”

  She shook her head and buried herself against my chest. “You know I have to try.”

  I closed my eyes against her words and let my arms tighten around her, feeling the shards of my hopeless plan crumble at my feet. “Somehow I knew you’d say that.”

  She looked up, her expression so trusting, so warm that my restraint snapped. I pulled her in for a long kiss, and my resolve turned muddy under her touch.

  The night before my trip, I had a visitor. A museum worker accompanied by several guards waited in the receiving room with a bundle wrapped in several layers of special cloth. She explained that the emperor had ordered a temporary loan of Peak’s diary, and then she gave me instructions on how to handle it, complete with a pair of gloves. She wouldn’t allow me to touch it until I agreed. Even then, she handed it over like a newborn baby, watching the bundle with an anxious expression.

  I couldn’t sleep that night, so I unwrapped the bundle, put on the gloves, and fingered the leather cover. It had begun to split with age, the deep brown fading in spots. A giddy feeling came over me as I gripped it in both hands. My great-great-grandfather had handled this, treasured it, opened it just like I was about to do.

  I opened it and turned a few pages, my eyes settling on an early entry.

  September 27, 2026

  The crazy continues. The inauguration was fine—no bodies slumped over chairs this time, although the whole thing seemed rushed. It was a closed-circuit recording delivered to the media afterward so nobody would know where it was taking place. Two weeks ago, I would have thought it was paranoid. Today, I wondered if it was even enough.

  Martha Perez took her oaths and then made a speech about how we needed to pull together during this difficult time, blah, blah. My parents were still watching when I went to bed at one.

  A few hours later, my mom flipped on the light and burst into my room. Her hair was all messy and her eyes pink and swollen.

  “Rich,” she whispered. “Do you know where Ally is?”

  I groaned, shielding my eyes from the light, and checked the time. “It’s not even 5:00 a.m. What are you waking me up for? Go call her phone.”

  “I did. It goes straight to voicemail.”

  “She’s probably with Brian. Why are you acting so weird?” I took note of her glassy eyes. “I think you need to go to bed.”

  She knelt by my bed and rested an arm on my shoulder. “The new president has been killed.”

  That woke me up. “What?”

  “Her entourage was headed to a secret apartment after the speech and the entire street blew up. Thirty-six people dead, including several civilian drivers and passengers who probably never knew what hit them. They’re estimating a million dollars worth of damage to nearby buildings and the infrastructure underneath the street.” Mom’s tone was flat, but the way she rambled on, I could tell she was fighting for control.

  A bomb planted beneath the road. The hours of planning that would have taken, and the precise timing and knowledge of the president’s whereabouts . . . this wasn’t a lucky gues
s. Maybe Dad’s conspiracy theory shows weren’t so far off after all.

  “So you’re saying not to go into politics,” I joked. My voice was hoarse.

  “I’m saying we’re leaving. Today.”

  I stared at her. “Leaving?”

  “We’re going to Hawthorne until things straighten themselves out. We’ll leave the moment Ally returns.”

  I sat bolt upright in bed, throwing her arm aside, all thoughts of sleep completely gone. “Be serious, Mom. I can’t just move to Nevada at the beginning of the season. I’ll never get a scholarship. And the killings are in D.C., clear across the country.”

  “Your dad’s inspector friend, Jake, came over today. He’s heard some things from higher up.”

  “Things? We’re leaving over rumors from some washed-out food safety inspector?”

  “It’s more than rumors. There have been notes delivered to government offices for months, saying the country needed to donate billions of dollars to a list of struggling third-world countries or we’d face dire consequences. Nobody knows who they’re from.”

  “Then let’s wait until they do.”

  Mom ignored my comment and headed for the closet. “These assassinations weren’t isolated events. This was all planned. Attacks like these involve a lot of people, Rich. Smart people who work for years to pull this off. I have a feeling they’re several steps ahead of us.”

  She brought out my suitcase and tossed it onto the bed. It hit my leg under the blanket. I winced and took the hint, swinging my legs over to a standing position. “You think it’s a bunch of terrorists.”

  “Maybe. Your father thinks it’s an inside group that’s infiltrated the government. Either way, these killings are only the beginning. Anarchy can set off a dangerous chain of events. People don’t feel safe, and when that happens, they become desperate. Big cities are usually the first places to go. We need to get out of here.”

  “But Mom—”

  “I’m not asking. Dad’s already packing the car. Go help him. We need flashlights, water bottles, canned goods, bedding. Anything that could last us a while.”

  “How long are we talking?” If I missed more than a couple weeks, Coach would kick me off the team completely, paranoid mother or not. “And what about Jason?”

  “We’ll come back when it’s safe, and no sooner,” she said firmly. “I already sent Jason an email. He can always leave the military base and find us at Grandma’s if things get really bad.” She’d already begun to pack my clothes. She seemed completely oblivious to the fact I was standing in my T-shirt and boxers.

  “Mom,” I said. “You know this is crazy. Dad’s been watching too many conspiracy theory shows. You can’t actually think we’re in danger here. They’re terrorists—they just want to scare people.”

  She whirled and put her hands on her hips. “Then they’ve succeeded, because I’m scared. All right? I just want my family to be safe. Your father feels the same way. Now get dressed and help him downstairs.”

  It was strange, reading about a different world from a teenage boy’s own hand. He wasn’t much older than I was, yet he’d eventually founded a nation. He just seemed so . . . normal. It had never occurred to me that he once felt as I did now, apprehensive before the start of a journey. Uncertainty over whether it was the right thing to do, concern over those he left behind. Confusion about what was happening to his world.

  I rewrapped the diary and placed it on the side table, feeling my thoughts drift away.

  Morning came.

  When Dresden said he’d already arranged transportation, I didn’t realize England was sending an air transport. Its arrival was alarming to most of the citizens—they’d seen NORA military hovercraft before, but nothing like this flying beast of a machine. A sleek gray color with a triangular shape, it seemed ready to hit light speed at any moment. It landed on top of the Council Building, which we’d cleared of all other military aircraft for the occasion. It took up half the rooftop.

  Even more startling was that it had no pilot. A man with a trimmed goatee and a rapid blinking habit about my father’s age served as an escort, but he insisted he wasn’t the pilot. He stood at the open hatch, directing the soldiers carrying our luggage onto the flying beast.

  “Time to go,” I announced to the group once they finished. Our boarding party consisted of my security team—twelve guards and a high-ranking military officer named Finley, who would act as my head of security in Vance’s absence.

  Vance was staying here. I had to keep reminding myself of that. My mind could grasp the reasons behind his decision, and logically it made sense, but my heart ached with the betrayal. He’d left his settlement for a few days, and they were still alive. Surely they could hang on for another week or two. Didn’t he see how much I needed him right now?

  But I couldn’t let my mind dwell on that at the moment. I felt dozens of eyes on me as I fingered my stone necklace, watching the preparations. My other hand hung limp in Vance’s, his body warm against my shoulder. Neither of us had spoken in several minutes.

  Jasper was coming too. Dresden had thrown a fit. I reminded him that as an ambassador, I had the right to choose my own assistants and clerks—and, besides, he’d chosen every member of my security. He finally relented.

  My father had requested Maizel’s boyfriend, Chan, as his “secretary.” I knew that meant they would be working undercover together, getting a feel for the city, trying to determine which countries were open to helping us and which weren’t.

  Even one sympathetic country could mean victory, just like an antagonistic country could mean defeat.

  Fifteen people, all here to ensure this mission’s success. All but the one person I wanted with me most. Vance’s hand tightened around mine, as if he could keep me here if he clasped it tightly enough.

  “Are you sure?” he asked for the third time.

  My voice was hoarse. “Very.”

  He didn’t release my hand yet, and I was glad. I was learning to smooth my expression and appear confident, but very little of that confidence was genuine. The convention seemed welcoming, but would they really accept a seventeen-year-old girl from a floundering country, let alone listen to our plight?

  For the first time, I wished I’d taken my father’s advice and unseated Dresden. Then we wouldn’t be here now, desperate and reliant upon the mercies of others. I glanced at the ship again and felt a familiar nervousness settle in my stomach. I wasn’t fond of flying, either.

  “You can do this without me,” Vance said as if reassuring himself. “Nobody else here has your iron determination. I’d say the country is in good hands.” He turned to me, his face grave. “But don’t trust anyone. ‘Your enemy is the one with the widest smile.’ Something my father told me.”

  “If I’m half as paranoid as you, I’ll be fine.”

  He didn’t laugh. “You’re trembling.”

  “Treena,” Jasper called out from the hatch.

  “Just nerves.” I pulled away and gave Vance a quick peck on the cheek. More than that and I’d fall apart at his feet. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

  Vance’s fingers traveled the length of my arm as I pulled away. I savored a last glimpse of his anxious face before making my way over to my father.

  Surprisingly, Mom stood in front of him, arms folded. She turned to me, looking distressed, then threw her arms around me. I stiffened in surprise. Mom hadn’t forgiven me yet for that stunt in the desert a few months ago, and our conversations since had been strained.

  “I wish they’d let me go with you,” she said next to my ear. “Please be careful.”

  “I will.”

  She gave me another squeeze and then stalked away without a second look at Jasper.

  I raised an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged. “I tried to tell her good-bye. Guess she didn’t want to hear that from me. Anyway, our friend here has something to say.” He motioned to a guard behind him, who stepped forward.

  A tuft of red hair escaped the
guard’s bun beneath her cap, and I recognized the large eyes immediately. “Maizel?”

  “Hush. We don’t know each other, all right? You’re just giving me orders or something.”

  “Okay . . . Are you trying to come along? Because they’ll notice if I bring more than twelve.”

  She looked insulted. “Of course not. I just needed to say this one thing. You’re smart to take Chan. You’ll never find a more loyal follower, and he’ll do pretty much anything you ask him.” She leaned forward to whisper, “Just bring him back to me safely, or I’ll strangle you. Are we clear?”

  I chuckled, knowing full well she was more than half serious. “Pretty clear.”

  “Good.” She lowered her voice even more, forcing me to lean in to hear. “I faked credentials and joined the palace guard. By the time you get back, hopefully we’ll have an entire contingent in place. Just in case this convention thing doesn’t work out, I mean. You just say the word, and we’ll take over the throne for you.”

  “Oh.” She actually seemed to believe it would be that easy. “Right. Thanks.”

  “Ready?” Jasper said, clasping his hands. “Everyone’s said their good-byes? All right, then.” After a second’s hesitation, he stormed on board like it was a stallion about to buck him off. The escort at the hatch hid a smile, then straightened as I began to climb up.

  I gave the crowd a wave before stepping on board.

  My personal guards had already fastened themselves into their seats near the back. The escort followed me in and motioned to a row of extra-wide seats near the center. Jasper had taken one of them, the chair still far too large for his grown frame.

  “Once you’re seated and secured, Ambassador, we’ll be on our way,” the escort said. He blinked twice, three times.

  Pushing away memories of my gut-wrenching chopper flights with EPIC, I seated myself and buckled the seat belt.

  “Our flight will be approximately four hours and ten minutes,” the escort continued in a well-rehearsed voice, still blinking rapidly. “Please remain in your seat for the entire journey. If you would like food or drink, please raise your hand, and I will attend you. Many thanks, and have a wonderful flight.” He turned to the panel on the wall in front of us and began swiping at a screen.

 

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