Rebel (The Alliance Chronicles Book 4)

by SF Benson

  Niang’s lips curl up. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks,” Zared says and intertwines his fingers with mine. “Go on, Mark.”

  “Yeah.” Mark leans against the mantle. “Asher made arrangements for you to be transported to the New Mexican territory.”

  “Why New Mexico?” I ask.

  “He has family in the territory. His grandmother will help you get settled. There’s a house waiting for you. Plus, a—”

  I interject, “And the New Order is going to let us just walk away?”

  “Not exactly,” Zared says. “Just listen, Tru.”

  “We’re faking your deaths. Venter wants your girlfriend transported by helicopter to North Woods. We’ll make it look as if she died in a crash.”

  The idea makes me nauseous. “How?”

  Mark winks. “Best you don’t know the details, Sweetheart.”

  I cringe at the word sweetheart. Bad memories. “What about Zared?”

  “Another accident,” Mark replies. “This one involves Venter.”

  My eyes widen. “What are you planning?”

  Mark jerks his head toward the door. “I’ll let your boyfriend fill you in. Niang let's go.”

  Niang stands and follows him outside.

  I bite my lower lip and automatically twist a strand of hair around my finger. “Zared, what isn’t he telling me?”

  Zared reaches over and extricates my hand from the tangles. “First off, Mark told me about my mother.”

  “You know?”

  Zared nods.

  “How did he find out?”

  “Someone tipped him off. Thought I should know.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I say.

  Zared’s shoulders droop right along with his expression. “I won’t lie to you. It hurts knowing what Venter did, but he will pay for it.”

  I tilt my head to the side. “The accident?”

  “Yup.”

  “What’s going to happen?”

  “Once again, it’s best you don’t know. This way, if things go south, you won’t have any guilt knowing the truth.” As he speaks, his fingers curl around mine. “What’s important is my father will never hurt anyone else again. You’ll leave here with Niang in a private vehicle. Another one of Asher’s contacts will insist on taking me in a separate car back to Washington.”

  “And Venter will fall for it?”

  “He’ll be told it’s a security measure. I’ll meet you and Niang at a private airstrip. Asher’s step-grandfather will fly us out of here.”

  “And this will be over?” Doubt drapes over my words.

  “Yes, babe, you’ll get your normal life. No more worries.”

  It seems hard to believe this time something is being orchestrated for my benefit.

  “You may have heard conflicting messages coming from the government and an organization called The Alliance.”

  —from Tru Shepard’s Address to the American Republic

  Tru

  It all sounds too good to be true—Zared and me leaving New Belle Isle without repercussions. I desperately want to believe it’s possible, but something keeps nagging at me. My little voice awakens and brings up an important observation. Venter retaliates brutally when he’s crossed. He won’t give up until his wishes are carried out.

  Zared puts an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side. His lips graze my temple. “What’s wrong?”

  I smile and glance over at him. This man thinks he knows me so well. I’ll admit it. He does. “Why do you think something’s wrong?”

  “No lies between us, babe.” He touches my cheek. “Once again, what’s bothering you?”

  “Don’t you think this plan is a little too easy? Has it not crossed your mind it might be a trap? I wouldn’t be surprised if Venter knows about it. Hell, he might be watching us as we speak.”

  Zared’s arm slides away and he stands up. “Seems like you have your own rules of the street.”

  “What?”

  He walks over to the window and looks out. “When I was on the streets, I lived by a set of rules, a code if you will. Know your enemy. Know when to walk away. Don’t call attention to yourself. Stuff like that kept me alive. I always followed them. That is until authorities arrested you.” He glances back at me. “I stopped paying attention to them. Instead, I followed my heart.”

  My stomach performs its own version of a perfect sailor’s knot—twisted, intricate, and unyielding. Zared has risked his life on more than one occasion for me. Sometimes, I wonder if he’d be better off forgetting I ever existed.

  Zared drops the curtain. “I don’t see Mark and Niang anywhere.”

  I cock my head. “When did Carter become Mark?”

  “We came to an understanding.” Zared returns to the sofa. “I think his plan will work, but you’re probably right to be skeptical.”

  Thank God for Zared’s rules of the street. Maybe now he’ll listen to me. Through this whole ordeal, I’ve learned enough to always have an alternate strategy—my rule of survival. I face him, tuck my legs beneath me, and place my hand on his knee.

  “Now that we’re both on the same page, we need to make our own plan. Do you remember the layout of this place?”

  “The island?”

  I nod.

  Zared’s eyebrows squish together as he rubs his chin.

  “Go left out of the driveway and you come to the greenhouses,” I prompt. It hasn’t been that long since the first time we escaped this island. Surely, he hasn’t forgotten.

  He stares at the floor, slightly shaking his head. “I’m drawing a blank, babe. Help me out.”

  “Go past the back side of the conservatory. The road goes over a pond and leads to a dead end. The waterfront is behind us, Zared. All we need to do is commandeer a boat and head to Canada.”

  Zared’s head rocks back a bit. “You’re right. Authorities can’t touch us without an extradition order.”

  “And Canada won’t extradite us if we provide the details about the Helix program,” I add.

  His eyes widen. Disbelief colors his words. “You still have the notebook?”

  “Of course I do.” The knot in my stomach tightens. “Why would you think I wouldn’t have it?”

  “With all that’s happened…I…um…didn’t think twice about the thing. Thought you might have lost it.”

  Yeah, right. I smell something foul.

  “Good thing I thought about it. I took it off Holden before the medics wheeled you to the medical wing.”

  Zared nods. “So… Where did you stash it?”

  There’s too much hesitation in his voice. I press my lips together and survey my boyfriend. His tapping foot captures my attention, and my back stiffens. Zared hunches forward, and he avoids eye contact. I hate thinking it, but he’s hiding something.

  Again.

  “I thought we stopped keeping secrets.” I stare at Zared. “Either tell me what’s going on or we sit here and wait for Venter to catch up with us.”

  Zared swallows hard and wets his lips. He pinches the bridge between his eyes and the words topple from his mouth. “Mark needs the notebook. I’m supposed to get it so the Alliance can have proof for the citizens.”

  Another damn mission! Unbelievable! After what we’ve been through, Zared still wants to keep me in the dark.

  My gaze flicks up to the ceiling. Ten… Nine… Eight… Seven… I continue counting down, trying to calm the storm growing within me. My muscles tense up. I’m sure my blood pressure is skyrocketing.

  Think of the baby.

  Calm down.

  “Babe…”

  I hold up a finger and shake my head. He needs to be patient and wait for me. I’m not calm enough to speak yet.

  “Tru, I’m sorry,” he pleads. “I wasn’t going to steal it or anything.”

  I lower my eyes. Zared’s reaching his hand out. When I refuse to take it, he sits back.

  There’s a sharpness in my tone when I finally speak. “Oh, I know you’re n
ot stealing it. That much I’m sure of. You have no idea where it is, and I don’t plan on telling you. Not now.”

  “Secrets…” His voice trails off.

  “Don’t go there,” I say and point a finger at him.

  I’m not sure what upsets me more. Zared agreeing to get the notebook or his not telling me upfront? Damn it, I thought we had moved past this stupid shit. I’m glad I had enough forethought to hide the pages from the journal. Zared needs to redeem himself before I let him know they are right in plain sight.

  It occurs to me that it’s way too quiet here. Butterflies take off in my stomach. Where are Mark and Niang? I smell trouble, and it’s going to be explosive.

  “We need to get out of here.” I ignore my mounting anger. “Any chance you still have a weapon?”

  “No.”

  The front doorknob rattles. Both of us look toward the sound.

  If Mark and Niang locked the door behind them, wouldn’t they knock to return?

  Zared jumps up, dragging me with him. He lifts a finger to his lips as we rush from the room. We slip down the hall and enter a small, updated kitchen just as something loud crashes into the door.

  There’s only one way out of this room—through a door leading onto a screened-in porch. Zared dashes past me and quickly opens and closes drawers beneath a counter.

  Down the hall, wood splinters and pops. The hair lifts on the back of my neck, and I rub my clammy hands down my legs. I can’t let fear distract me. Zared needs my help. “What are you looking for?”

  “Anything we can use for weapons.” He removes a screwdriver along with a hammer. Zared moves to another drawer. He mutters, “Jackpot!” as he pulls out a gun.

  He checks for ammo and adds rounds to the magazine. With expert precision, Zared inserts the magazine, pulls back on the slide, and loads the gun. He holds the weapon low by his side.

  “Stay close, Tru,” he says and eases the back door open.

  The chilly wind has a harsh bite. I zip up my jacket. “Where to?” I whisper.

  He motions for us to get down against the wooden walls of the porch. “Assume the place is surrounded. We make a run for the greenhouses. Find an opening. Come out on the other side.”

  “Okay.” My voice sounds foreign and small.

  “Tru, if we get separated—”

  I clear my throat. “Not happening.”

  Zared speaks in a steady, lower-pitched voice. “If we get separated, you keep going. Save yourself and the baby. Understood?”

  “No man left behind,” I tell him.

  “We’re not soldiers,” he admonishes.

  “Doesn’t matter. We go together.”

  Zared squeezes my hand and crawls over to the door. He reaches up and pushes it open. The hinges squeal like a banshee in the night.

  A rifle clicks.

  Loud voices from within the house carry outside. Soldiers are going from room to room.

  “It’s now or never, babe. I need you to go ahead of me. I’ll cover you.”

  No way am I going to risk stepping in front of a bullet. I feel the floor around where I’m crouched. My hand lands on something rectangular. It feels like a brick. I pick it up and crawl beside Zared.

  “You do it.” I hand the item to him. “Throw it away from where we need to go.”

  “Good thinking, babe.”

  Zared stands and tosses it toward an outbuilding to the left of the house.

  In mere seconds, yellow fire flashes from a tree near the greenhouses.

  Heavy footsteps crunch the frozen ground as the soldier runs, his weapon raised, in the general direction of the building. Zared aims his gun and shoots. The slug punches a hole in the serviceman’s back. He drops to his knees.

  A voice yells, “Outside!”

  “Come on,” Zared shouts.

  We scramble to our feet and run for the greenhouses. Bullets buzz like angry hornets passing my ear. A stray slug takes out a windowpane in the rundown structure. Another ricochets off a nearby tree.

  What the hell?

  These are Riza soldiers. I know they are better shots than this. Unless their orders are not to kill us? Yet.

  Zared yanks on the rickety doorknob. The door pops open, and we’re greeted with a massive spider web.

  Oh shit…

  My mouth opens.

  Zared’s hand clamps down over it, effectively cutting off my scream.

  “Don’t,” he cautions me.

  I nod with huge eyes and do my best to duck beneath the sticky death trap. Memories of spindly legs crawling up and down walls cross my mind. I shake loose the recollection. No time for it.

  I press forward. Smells of damp earth, mold, and dust assault my senses. I tuck my mouth in the crook of my arm and cough.

  “Shhh,” Zared warns.

  I swear I want to deck him. It’s not like I’m coughing for the fun of it.

  Zared signals for me to follow him. We run down a narrow corridor. Crumbling wooden counters holding broken pots are on one side of the walkway. The other side has rotting corpses of plants long forgotten.

  Flashlights from soldiers shine across the space. We freeze. Up ahead is a solid door. Behind us glass shatters. Zared reaches back and grabs my arm, propelling me in front of him.

  Time unwinds and pauses. The corridor seems to grow longer with every step. Riza boots crash against the floor like thunder. Their weaponry, a clattering cacophony, fills the spaces between footfalls. We reach the door as the sounds grow closer.

  “There they are!” someone shouts.

  I lean my hip into the handle and push. The door gives way, and we’re in a cavernous, empty room. Zared points to the right. A metal table sits against the wall.

  I run to the opposite end. My heart pounds, and my hands shake as I place them on the surface. We push and pull until the table is in front of the door.

  “That won’t hold them for long.” My chest heaves up and down as I attempt to catch a breath.

  “No shit,” he remarks.

  So not needed.

  Moonlight filters in from a broken window high up on the wall. A door is on the opposite side of the room.

  I clutch my side. Unfortunately, resting isn’t an option.

  Zared grasps my elbow. “Come on, Tru. Keep moving.”

  We sprint to the door as someone shoves the one behind us. Thankfully, ours opens easily. On the other side, standing in the night air, is a battalion of Riza soldiers.

  “If you have a young person, do not under any circumstances allow him or her to be inoculated.”

  —from Tru Shepard’s Address to the American Republic

  Zared

  Loud clicks. Blinding lights. So many Riza dressed in battle gear. I sure hope to hell this isn’t the end of the road. We may be criminals of state, but we’re not Bonnie and Clyde. There won’t be a hail of bullets as we fight back. I tuck my weapon away. If we’re lucky, no one will search me.

  I’m waiting for someone to pull me away from Tru, but nothing happens. Instead, the brigade parts like the Red Sea—no words spoken, just heads turning. Guns still point at Tru and me, but not every eye is on us. Tru slides closer to me, and her hand grazes mine. I slip my fingers around hers and keep my free hand in my pocket, just in case.

  My gaze roams over the multitude of soldiers. It’s an ocean of different sizes, shapes, and colors. One face stands out from the horde. He towers above the soldiers standing closest to him. If one of the statues in a Cairo museum came to life, this man could lay claim to the ancestry. His skin is the color of creamy-coffee and his features are chiseled.

  Fletcher.

  Our eyes meet, and he gives me a curt nod. Thank God there’s someone else on our side of the equation.

  Murmurs pierce through the crowd. I finally get a glimpse of who cleaved the soldiers without a word. When he comes into view, my blood turns cold while my fingers itch with temptation. One shot is all I need. But then, I think of Tru and the baby. My future with them, somethin
g I want desperately, would be over. For once, I won’t let my temper jeopardize my goals.

  “Son, if you wanted time with your little girlfriend, I could have given it to you. All you had to do was ask.” My father stands tall with his shoulders back. Arrogance drops off the man like rain.

  He gestures to a soldier, and the man moves to Tru’s side. In an instant, Fletcher steps up and pushes the soldier away.

  “I got this,” Fletcher says. “See if the transport back to North Woods is ready.”

  The plan was for me to go with Fletcher. Tru isn’t going anywhere without me. “Wait…um… Dad—” I choke on the word. It curdles in my mouth, and it’s all I can do to not vomit on the spot. “Can I speak with you in private?”

  “Stand down,” Venter addresses the soldiers. “Keep an eye on her, though.” He waves his hand toward me as he walks into the building Tru and I just exited.

  I follow behind with thoughts of this man’s execution swirling through my mind. If anything happens to Tru, it will no longer be an idea.

  Once inside the man asks, “What do you want, Zared?” My father keeps his back to me. “I assumed our conversation was over.”

  “You want me to go with you,” I state with more calmness than I actually feel. “Well, I won’t go without Tru.”

  Venter pivots on his heel. His eyes stay fixed on me while he adjusts the collar on his coat. “Why is the girl so important to you?”

  I’m torn. Telling my father might keep Tru and me together. But then again, it may just pull us apart. I shove my hands in my pockets and let my fingers glide along the gun’s surface. If I need to fight, so be it. I won’t lose her or the baby.

  “She’s carrying my child.” I set my jaw. “You won’t take them away from me.”

  My sanctimonious father exhales loudly. “So Taaliba wasn’t lying after all.”

  I run a hand through my hair. “What are you talking about? She didn’t know.”

  He shakes his head. “When are you going to learn? You keep putting your faith in the wrong people, son.”

  If Mark spoke the truth, neither he nor Asher told my mother anything. That leaves...