Table of Contents
Legal Page
Title Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademarks Acknowledgment
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Index
Glossary
New Excerpt
About the Author
Publisher Page
Falling, One by One
ISBN # 978-1-78430-986-2
©Copyright S.A. McAuley 2016
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright January 2016
Edited by Ann Leveille
Pride Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2016 by Pride Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN
Pride Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
The Borders War
FALLING, ONE BY ONE
S.A. McAuley
Book four in The Borders War series
Whether Armise lived or died was never supposed to matter to Merq.
As the fight for the kids of the jacquerie begins and the war between Opposition and Revolution heightens, Merq discovers that he may not have as much control over his actions as he thought he did. Further complicating their tangled relationship, Armise may be just as compromised.
Desperate to learn the truth, Merq and Armise put themselves directly in the path of a powerful enemy. They’ve spent fifteen years of their lives on the knife’s edge of trust and loyalty. What they learn about each other’s pasts—and what it means for their future—will bring them together or definitively tear them apart.
Merq’s life has always been at risk—one bullet away from death in sacrifice of his mission. As his focus begins to shift, Merq may be too late to understand what, and who, is most important in his life.
Dedication
To every reader who waited (too damn long) for this book.
Trademarks Acknowledgment
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmark mentioned in this work of fiction:
Olympics: United States Olympic Committee Corporation
Chapter One
May 2560
Merq Grayson’s 36th year
The Continental States—the capital
Armise grabbed my arm, grinding us to a halt as we exited the Capitol Building after our briefing with President Simion and Exley. “You cannot think I knew those camps were happening.”
I shook my head. “I don’t. And I don’t think it’s your fault either.”
Armise released me, his fingertips brushing down my arm, then he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You may be the only one. Including me.”
“Guilt is unproductive. Move on from it.” I cocked my head in the direction of the ocean and began walking. “We have work to do.”
“After the funeral?”
I swallowed around the tightening of my throat. Forgoing Wensen Kersch’s funeral wasn’t going to make accepting the reality of his death any easier. But there were other, more important, places I needed to be. “We’re not going to the rites. I mourn for the man I knew. The one they’re burying today is a stranger. The president would’ve wanted me—wanted us—to D3 those camps definitively.”
“Then that is what we will do. Where are we going?”
“To see Priyessa. Simion said she’s at her house in the city. I want to talk to her before we make any tactical decisions.”
“Tell me you brought weapons.”
“I’m not going in there without them.” I handed him the extra pistol I’d grabbed before we’d left the capitol, making sure that he carried a sonic and I had a real one. Of course, I carried my knives too. But they were always on my body. Hidden away, but at the ready.
We crossed through the city, the wind picking up as we got closer to the ocean. Even though it was May there was a chill to the air. Armise would be able to withstand the sudden drop in temperature with ease. I, on the other hand, started to shiver.
“Nervous?” Armise asked as he took in the uncontrolled shake of my hands.
“Fucking cold,” I snapped at him.
Armise seemed to consider this. “Some of my genetmods are more useful than others.”
I hummed in response. “Think you could ratchet up your core a bit to make me more comfortable?”
“I am your human fire,” he replied with a sarcastic bite, but I could already feel the heat coming off him.
I took a step closer to him, our arms brushing as we walked.
We took the full force of the wind when we slipped around the corner. The waves were wild, white froths of water crashing against the black barriers that separated the ocean from the residences lining the shore.
We were on our way to find out what Priyessa had learned about Tiam, the PsychHAg who’d gone rogue and was working in the Opposition hybrid camps, and the weather matched the anger churning inside me at the thought of what the kids from the jacquerie were enduring at his hands. The residential building in front of me was a visual reminder of just how unfair our world was. Priyessa’s building was a soaring glass and polymaterial structure that bent over the ocean at an unnatural angle—as if it were boasting that the immutable forces of gravity and tidal surges would never be able to touch it.
The entrance to the lobby of her building was unlocked and there was a line of guards on each side of the entryway. The building was home to many prominent and wealthy citizens. Of course it was heavily guarded. We kept the safest in our society protected from those who only wanted a fair chance at survival.
I sneered at the overt power display, pulling my shoulders back as we were approached by one of the men. He ran a calculated gaze over our Revolution uniforms and his finger came off the trigger of his rifle. He looked at the insignia marking my rank, which I wore surrounding the seal. “What can I do for you, Colonel?”
“We’re here to see Priyessa Niaz. She’s expecting us. Merq Grayson and Armise Darcan.”
“I know who you are.” He tilted his head in the direction of another guard who spoke softly into his comm.
The guard held out his hand. “Gentlemen, I need your weapons.”
“Fuck no,” I replied immediately.
“Sorry, Colonel. No exceptions. With our clientele and the death of the president I’m sure you understand we have to take extraordinary precautions. They’ll be here when you leave.” He gestured to Armise’s hip. “Your knife too.”
Armise handed over his knife and pistol and shrugged. “She’s a PsychHAg.
If she wants to harm us then weapons aren’t going to do us much good.”
I gave a gruff exhalation of displeasure and handed over my own gun. But I didn’t touch any of my hidden knives. If they didn’t have adequate scanning to know that I was carrying anything else then I wasn’t going to tell them.
The guard placed Armise’s knife and the guns on a table and pointed to the lifts. “One hundred and sixtieth floor.”
We stepped into the lifts and the doors closed, shutting us inside and amping up my anxiety. The lift moved upward in a quiet rush, rising above the concrete foundation walls and revealing a wall of glass that overlooked the ocean. I kept my focus locked to the rolling waves, cresting off into the horizon, instead of on the tightness of the space I occupied. The lift slid to a stop within seconds, opening directly into Priyessa’s home.
We walked into one large room with windows that ran the length of the two walls facing the ocean. It was a sleek apartment, with refined touches of metal and stone. Gray walls and furniture in the tarnished silver and cobalt that I associated with Singapore. It set my teeth on edge.
“This is the definition of luxurious,” Armise whispered next to me, alluding to our conversation in the AmFed earlier that day. That memory felt like eons ago and not hours.
There was the sound of flames crackling, whooshing as they ate up oxygen, and I turned to find the wall to the right separating the living room from the galley was a sheet of fire climbing from the floor to an unseen groove in the ceiling. But where was Priyessa? Her guards wouldn’t have let us up if she hadn’t approved our presence.
My survival instincts kicked into overdrive and I drew one of my knives, palming the cold steel. Beside me Armise tensed and reached for the place where his knife normally would be had it not been confiscated by the guards. I slipped another knife from a hidden pocket and handed it to him. It didn’t have the substantial weight of the one he was used to carrying, but it would have to be enough.
There was a ripple of movement behind the shimmering wall of fire and I turned to face whoever it was. Armise put his back to mine and surveyed the rest of the room. Priyessa was the first to emerge from the protection of the wall, but I could see the forms of at least two more people walking with her.
“Apparently my security isn’t as tight as I’d like to think it is,” Priyessa stated, entering the open room with her palms raised. She was unmarked, which meant she probably hadn’t been attacked or hadn’t attempted to overtake her intruders, even though I knew she was capable enough to take down a man my size.
I tried to see through the flicker of orange and white light, to find out just who had this PsychHAg intimidated enough that she hadn’t tried to fight back. The image of the two forms undulated, keeping their features disguised, distorted.
But when my father and mother, Lucien and Tallitia Grayson, stepped around that corner, I barked out a laugh. What the fuck could they do to me or Armise? Then my father held up a device I recognized as a reverb. I sucked in a breath, gripping my knife in a ferocious hold.
I remembered Armise had said he’d had all of his chips put back in. And there was no way he would’ve gotten an earlier gen transport chip implanted. So that meant he could flash out of here with one thought. I reached out and yanked Priyessa into me, then pushed her behind me into Armise.
“Get the fuck out of here,” I said to Armise, placing myself between him and the reverb. “Take her and go.”
I could almost feel the anger rolling off of him.
“I won’t.”
I clenched my teeth, grinding them together. I couldn’t force him to transport and it was my fault he wasn’t leaving now. I cursed myself for being so fucking childish and adamant that he could never leave my side again. I wanted him to go. I needed him to. I didn’t know why my parents were here, but it wouldn’t be for anyone’s good but their own. I wouldn’t allow Armise to die with me, let alone for me.
“What the fuck do you want?”
My father smirked. “The Revolution needs you in a different way. So we’ve made a bargain. We’re handing you over to the Nationalists.”
I stepped back as if he’d taken his fist to my jaw. “Fuck you. I’m not going anywhere.”
“It’s done already, Merq. Don’t try to fight us on this. Either you go with us or we set off this reverb and kill us all, including all of the innocent citizens in this building. We’ve always been prepared to die for the Revolution.”
My mother’s face was a mask of callous anger. “Either way you serve a purpose. You’re much more useful as a martyr.”
I thought about the stadium and the fate Armise had saved me from. Where I’d been supposed to remain on that stage long enough for Neveed to get the president to safety. Long enough to give my life for the Revolution.
I flipped the blade in my hand—ready to strike—so they knew I wasn’t going to give in. “I already played that part.”
“Not effectively enough,” Tallitia said. “You have…too many lives. Your death grants us access to a new crop of young fighters who are more talented, more driven and much easier to control.”
“You know about the genetmod camps and you’re fucking okay with it?” I yelled at them.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She was discussing the hybrids as if they were a new cache of weapons and not people. Children. But it wasn’t as if either of my parents had strong parental instincts. I’d been classified as a soldier and set out to be forged as a weapon when I was so young I should have still been under their protection.
“They are soldiers who will fight for us, not for the Opposition,” Lucien said. “With them we bring Nationalist support. The Revolution must win this war.”
I lunged for my father, knocking the reverb out of his hand before he could respond—the device skittering to the smooth floor—wrapping him into my iron grip. My arm circled around his shoulders and my knife pressed into the delicate flesh of his neck. But when I turned to face my mother again, Priyessa was gone and Armise was on his knees. My mother had a sonicpistol pointed at his head.
I couldn’t believe that what I saw in front of me was real. Armise didn’t give in. Didn’t buckle to anyone without a fight. Then I noted the clenching of his jaw and the wired tension of his form as he tried to control convulsions that rippled through his muscles.
I tightened the grip on my father. “What did you do to him?”
“Keeping your dog on his leash,” my father choked out.
I pressed the tip of my knife deeper into his neck, the flesh giving away under the pressure. Just enough to make him hurt. Just enough to make him bleed. In that moment I saw Armise as they did and I hated them.
Armise was not a dog.
What had drawn me to Armise years ago was intrigue, at first. An unrelenting physical attraction for a man who was just as strong as I was. For a while I’d continued to let him into my bed because of the challenge he presented me, or more likely because of the upheaval he threw into my highly ordered life. But none of those reasons spoke to the core of who he was and why I chose him when there were other men available. Men who were just as scarred, nearly as strong… Men who could never be Armise.
What I recognized in Armise was persistence, and willfulness. An unflagging steadfastness, even though I’d wrongly attributed his allegiance to evil instead of good for years. He was temperance and calm in a world of madness. He was safety when risk ruled us all.
He wasn’t the dog in the room.
“Be careful with the words you use to bait me,” I warned them.
My mother tightened her finger on the trigger, pushing the barrel into Armise’s bowed forehead in response. I eased the knife back from my father’s throat. Lucien touched the cut, a maroon smear appearing on his fingertips. “Call it a fail-safe. Grimshaw said that Ahriman ensured we would be able to contain him.”
“Transport out now,” I ordered Armise, ignoring them. It didn’t matter how much of an amateur Tallitia was with that gun,
she couldn’t miss with the barrel pressed to his skull. I allowed what little restraint I had left to slip away, becoming more out of control with each second that pistol was aimed directly at Armise’s head. It didn’t matter that they were my parents—in name and whatever smattering of original DNA existed within me. I wouldn’t hesitate to kill them both as soon as I had the chance.
Armise shook his head. His teeth chattered. But there was no way for me to misunderstand his answer.
“No.”
I wouldn’t watch him die. Not because of me.
“Now!” I screamed at him.
Armise lifted his head, and I saw the depth of pain he was trying to bury to stay conscious. Whatever Ahriman had put inside him would be the first thing to come out as soon as we got out of here.
Lucien grinned. “He can’t. We blocked his signal.”
Armise’s silver eyes had gone dark, pupils dilated from the pain. “Kill him. Fight your way out.”
On this I wouldn’t be moved. When we ended up in Grimshaw’s hands it would likely be the death of Armise and me. But I wouldn’t abandon him and I wouldn’t let him die without a fight.
I tipped my chin up as I replied to Armise as if there was no one else in the room besides us. “We fight our way out. Together.”
I could see realization dawning on Armise’s face even before I acted. His lips drawing into a thin line, eyes closing in defeat. I let go of my father and pushed him away from me.
“Hand me over to whomever you want. But Armise comes with me. Alive.”
My mother traded glances with my father and he nodded. She kept the pistol and went to him, studying the blood beading on his neck.
I crossed the room to Armise and dropped to my knees in front of him. “They won’t be able to hold us.”
“You are a fucking idiot,” he cursed me.
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