The Taking 02: Hover (14 page)

Chapter 18

I crawl back into bed beside Jackson, though I know there is no way I’ll sleep. I’m surprised that he slept the entire time I was gone. He has a peacefulness about him when he sleeps, an easy rise and fall to his chest, and the slowest, deepest breaths, each one as though he’s breathing a small sigh of relief. I watch him like this, wondering what he would think about my talking to Earth’s leaders without him knowing.

His eyes flutter a little, the tell-tale sign of REM sleep, and I wonder what dreams he’s walking through right now and whether any of them include me. He said he had no fear prior to his feelings for me, but for me it’s the opposite. I used to be afraid. Afraid of expectation and what it meant to be Ari Alexander, whether I would ever live up to my own name. Now, I have no fear. Not of losing the ones I love or war or even of becoming something other than what I’ve always been. And I know that part of becoming okay with myself and the future, no matter where it takes me, is because of Jackson. On Earth he taught me that there was a world outside of what I had always known. Now here, on Loge, he’s taught me that even the strongest, most guarded people have a vulnerable side.

I pushed Jackson away, yet he continues to stand beside me, forever thinking I am better than I am, more capable than I am—stronger than I am. Some may think you choose to have feelings for another due to what you see in that person, their strengths and weaknesses. But I think it’s also in how that person sees you. And Jackson Castello, right or wrong, sees me, really sees me. How can I push that away? How can I deny that while I see him as mysterious and difficult, I also see him as kind and generous and so much braver than he realizes? He isn’t perfect. He is so far from perfect. But maybe it isn’t about him being perfect…maybe it’s about him being perfect for me.

I shiver as the thought circulates through me, each second making me realize the truth of it all. Jackson is perfect for me.

I slip under the covers beside him and edge closer, feeling both anxious and excited at the same time. Looking down on him, I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful in my entire life, and I wish I could guarantee he was always at peace, just like this. And then the reality of everything hits me—the impending war, my plan against Zeus, the risks that may end up burying me—and I no longer feel that time is on my side. I’m tired of allowing my mind to fight my heart. I lean down until my breath dances with his and close my eyes, allowing my lips to caress his so lightly it’s barely a touch, but the impact is immediate. He jars awake, and I slowly open my eyes to see his staring, surprised, into mine.

“I thought you were asleep,” I whisper.

“Clearly I am.” And then in one move he cups my face with his hands and sits us up, crushing his lips onto mine. I pull him still closer, wanting my body as fixed to his as possible, finding strength in his powerful arms and the sureness of his kiss, as though he was always here, waiting for this moment. He eases me down onto the bed and lies half over me, never letting his lips leave mine. A small tear leaks from my eye and I realize that for the first time since arriving here, I feel like I’m coming home.

Jackson pulls away, his expression full of confusion as he wipes away the tear. “Did I—?”

“No. This is…you’re…” I swallow the lump in my throat and try to steady my voice. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here, to realize…”

Jackson places a finger over my mouth to stop me. “Don’t apologize. You could never forgive me or talk to me again, and it would change nothing for me. Still, my first thought every day for the rest of my life…will be you.”

I choke on a sob that feels like it’s been pent up inside me forever. I cry for everything I’ve lost and everything I didn’t realize I had. I cry for what I have done and what I am about to do. But most of all, I cry because this shattered boy has carried my weight for weeks now, reassuring me and supporting me, while also fighting the horrors that Zeus inflicts upon him, and I continually pushed him away.

Jackson slides beside me, curling me up against him and rubbing my back gently until the sobs turn into easier breaths and my tears dry on my face. Exhausted, I melt into him, listening as his heart beats against my cheek, until finally we both fall fast asleep.

Chapter 19

The next morning I stretch my arms out in bed to find the space beside me empty and for a moment I wonder if I dreamt the whole thing. I crawl out of bed and leave the room to hear the shower running from the back door.

Glad for a moment to think, I get dressed and head out to the front porch. In a few hours, another human is going to die. I feel my stomach sink at the thought, my mind searching for a way that I can stop it. People are already in motion, walking down the central street of our row to Gaia Road to go to work or school or whatever. I stand and walk the opposite way down the street, immersing myself in the flow of people. They are all harmless, just wanting to go about their lives. I wonder how easy it will be to convince them, how many would stand up against Zeus.

I walk back down to our house to find Jackson waiting on the porch for me. “Do you want to go to the bridge?”

I lace my fingers behind my head and close my eyes. “No. But how can I not?”

A few minute later and we’re standing by the bank to the Cutana River, a crowd already forming. The guards line both sides of the bridge, pushing onlookers back. From this vantage point, it’s hard to see who Zeus has chosen to sacrifice today. I scan the crowd, the bridge, the guards, trying to work out possible ways in my mind that I can stop this.

“You can’t,” Jackson whispers, pulling me close. “You can’t stop this.”

I bite my lip, torn between what I have to do, the many who could be saved, and this single life about to be taken before me. Is one life worth saving many? And if it is, how do you determine the worth of that life? I feel a deep ache in my chest that I know will never completely go away. There has been so much death in this war, so much loss.

I drop my head and close my eyes. I don’t want to watch it happen, knowing there is nothing I can do to stop it. Several seconds pass and I hear a cry move through the crowd. My eyes dart to the bridge and I have to stifle my own cry. Perched on the edge of the railing is a boy, no older than ten or twelve. His small body is shaking, and though he isn’t crying, I can see his fear, feel it radiating off him.

I take a step forward just as someone screams from the crowd, “You can’t do this!” Then more shouts of, “He’s just a boy!” and “He didn’t do anything!” The guard behind the boy sneers, and I decide in that moment that if he pushes that boy off the bridge, I will kill him. I will kill him and I will enjoy it.

Jackson steps around me, composed, but I can tell he’s prepared to fight if he has to. He reaches the guard and begins to argue with him, motioning to the boy and then up at Zeus’s building where the coward no doubt watches this with joy. The crowd begins to get angrier and angrier as we wait for the decision.

I step away from the crowd, closer to the river, and the boy’s eyes fall on me, helpless and afraid. And that’s enough for me. I turn so I’m facing the majority of the people and shout as loudly as I can, “You don’t have to allow this! You don’t have to watch him kill this little boy. You are a strong group. You can rise above. You
can
fight back!”

A series of assents course through the crowd, and soon Ancients are pushing and yelling, some trying to make their way to the boy, others trying to hold them back. A fight breaks out, then another, and soon it’s full out madness as the Ancients divide, those willing to stand against Zeus and those too loyal to allow it.

The guards have all moved into the crowd to break up the fighting, giving us our only chance of freeing the boy. I scream, “Jackson!” and motion to the boy. Jackson starts for him, he’s almost there, when a shot rings out through the air and the boy, startled, falls forward to the water, the noose around his neck jerking him to a stop. His body writhes and jerks as he tries to find ground that isn’t there. Jackson pulls a knife from his pocket and begins to cut the rope, but it’s too thick, the boy too small to sustain. I rush into the water and swim with all my might against the current to try to reach him.

“I’ve got it,” Jackson shouts, and the boy’s body falls into the water. A wave of relief surges through me. We saved him. We saved him! I pull the boy from the water and lift him up onto the shore, prepared to give CPR if necessary, when my eyes land on the boy’s face, blue and lifeless.

“Oh, no.” I pump his chest and breathe into his mouth, praying it isn’t too late, even though deep in my chest, I know he’s gone. I continue issuing CPR until my arms are aching and my breath has become labored, only stopping when someone places a hand on my shoulder.

“Ari, he’s gone. I’m sorry. He’s gone.”

Tears brim my eyes, and I look up to see Madison beside me, her face soaked from crying. She kneels down beside me, and wraps me in a tight hug. “I’m sorry.”

Everything inside me crashes in that moment, torn between absolute anger and absolute defeat. More guards appear, ordering people to their homes, forcing the crowd to disperse. Jackson arrives and helps me stand, and at some point tells me we have to go home, but I’m too lost to listen. Because though I know the image of the boy will stay ingrained in my mind for the rest of my life, something happened today that I never could have anticipated. The Ancients spoke out. They fought. They rallied together for the greater good. Which means hope isn’t lost. I don’t have to start a rebellion.

It’s already begun.

…

Instantly, it’s as though the air is different, the sky ominous, as though Loge itself knows what I plan to do and intends to stop me from killing its leader. Jackson and I walk together down Gaia Road an hour later, hand in hand. It’s another change, this one such a source of strength that I’m amazed I pushed him away for so many weeks. I want him near me, always near me, because I know as long as he’s there I have someone on my side who, like me, fears failing more than death.

The guards blocked all the streets for an hour after the uprising at the river, forcing everyone to stay in their homes. Jackson and I talked about nothing but the plan the entire time we were home. What we would do and when and how, and by the end of the hour, we had everything sorted out.

The Earthly port is monitored by guards that switch out every four hours, except during the middle of the night, when they go a six hour stretch. The switch at that six hour mark takes the longest because the guards are exhausted and most of Triad is still asleep. Our plan is to have the Ancients who want to leave slip outside the Healer’s Wall and come around to where the wall meets the Taking Forest. They can then come in through the Taking Forest and go through the Earthly port. We will have apprehended the guards by then, giving them free clear to go without worry of harm. We’ll block the port from any potential threat, and then go for Zeus. But to make this happen, we need all of the human Operatives and at least some of the RESs to ally with us against Zeus.

Which brings us to our goal for today: recruiting anti-Zeus soldiers.

“You remember the plan?” Jackson says out of the corner of his mouth. No one is around, but that doesn’t mean no one is listening.

I nod. The plan is for Jackson to go to Cybil and have her spread the word to the Operatives about the rebellion, set to occur two nights from tonight. I will then discreetly mention it to the RES assignees, in hopes that they are less ingrained with Zeus and will be more willing to help.

Jackson and I separate as soon as we enter the Vortex, him down the spiral steps to see Cybil, me through the double doors to RES training. Most of the RESs are standing around talking when I enter. Madison rushes up to me. “Are you okay? That was so horrible.”

One of the male assignees behind her overhears and calls, “We can’t allow this to continue.” A conversation starts before I even have to utter a word. I smile to myself, proud for the first time to call myself an RES.

“I can get us all back to Earth, if you’re willing to help,” I finally say, breaking up the conversations. They turn to me, intrigue in their eyes, and I launch into the plan. I keep my voice low to prevent any wandering ears from hearing. We talk about Earth’s leaders allowing coexistence, about the Ancients who want to leave, about the humans who are slated to die here, and by the time I’m done, I have them all in agreement.

Jackson comes through the door just as I’m finishing up, his arms loaded down with metal boxes. He sets the boxes on the ground and steps up to the group. “Today you will each receive your RX-53.”

“But I thought we didn’t receive our guns until next year,” a male Ancient calls. “You’re giving them early?”

“I’m giving them early.”

Jackson passes each of the Ancients a gun, and then when he gets to me he hands mine over and whispers, “Cybil is on board.

“All right,” he says, addressing the group. “Everyone know how to use it?” He walks over to the stack of wooden wheels from our first training, and holds the gun out so everyone can see. He cocks it, then clicks a red button on the side that begins to flash. Then he tosses the wheel into the air and fires, sending a burst of light at the wheel, shattering it into a million pieces. “That’s it. Now practice. I want this room covered in splinters when I return.” He leaves the room, and we stare at one another for a moment, then the Operative in me takes over and I head for a wheel, glancing at one of the male Ancients as I go.

“You toss them for the group. We’ll go one after the other. Sound good?” Everyone nods and gets into line. I start, remembering my first Operative training back home. We were put into lines, similar to this, and fired at various targets until we hit all of them. I remember Jackson being asked to illustrate for the group, and then the awe in everyone’s eyes as we were handed a new prototype laser gun. It was so powerful, so advanced. And it was nothing compared to the gun I hold in my hand now.

Its smooth silver lines help it to fit perfectly in my hand. It’s so light that I assume the blast will be weak, so when I fire, I’m not expecting the kick that sends me backward onto the ground. I feel a tingling sensation in my hand and shake my head to refocus my thoughts. At least I hit the wheel, which is now scattered across the other side of the room, like Jackson’s from before. I expect the group to laugh at my fall, but instead Madison helps me stand and they all continue shooting, each of them focused, and I realize the events of the morning have hit deep. They’re angry. They’re motivated.

They’re ready to fight.