Rebel (Legend, #4)(77)

I frown, mirroring my brother’s expression. “That’s not going to keep people in check,” he says. “The last we saw, the entire Undercity was in open rebellion. You’re telling me you locked up everyone?”

The man reddens again. “We’re containing it,” he insists again. It’s all I need to hear to know that things down there aren’t really in control. Even a city like this place is going to have trouble quelling a lifetime of abuse against an entire population.

“The President has given explicit orders about you all,” he goes on, impatient to shift the subject. He eyes me. “You’re the brother?”

“I’m the brother,” I reply, used to the question, but beside me, Daniel narrows his eyes.

“His name’s Eden. I’m the brother.”

I glance at Daniel, surprised, but he’s not looking at me. Instead, his attention has shifted to the floors appearing one by one below us as our elevator gradually slows. The closer we get to the Undercity, the more of the chaos we can see. There are heavy barricades set up at intersections everywhere, and many of the lower floors are barred from entry, guards present in front of every elevator entrance.

Finally, we reach the floor where our escorts will get off to join the rest of the Antarctican troops. This is where Daniel and June will leave too. Where Pressa and I will go on alone.

June and I exchange a steady look, one borne from a lifetime of surviving together. Then she turns to squeeze my shoulder. “See you soon,” she says. “We’ll be right here, listening for you.”

I nod, trying to mimic her calmness. When she was young, when she was going through the worst of the Republic’s war, did she ever feel terrified? It seems impossible, looking into her level eyes.

While June gives Pressa an encouraging nod, Daniel and I hesitate before each other. As a kid, I used to throw myself into his arms without thinking twice. I’d grab for his hand whenever I had the chance. I’d wrap my arms around his neck and babble affections until he’d shove me off.

But now, we don’t quite know how to say goodbye. We stand there for a moment, feet shuffling, expressions awkward. In the end, we don’t. He just pats my arm once before giving me his crooked smile. “Don’t be late,” he tells me.

I nod, searching for something to say, but Daniel has already turned back around and is walking out of the elevator. At first, I think it’s because he didn’t want to linger any longer. Then I realize that it’s because he can’t bear to see me go.

Too soon, Pressa and I are alone in the elevator. We head down to the Undercity. Through the glass, I can hear the sirens coming from below, the shouts of an officer through a megaphone.

It’s too much like the Republic. The sounds surround me like a blanket, and I suddenly wonder if I’m in one of my nightmares, that maybe all of this has been my subconscious, trapping me. My palms break out in a sweat. I look to my side. Pressa is pale, too, her shoulders trembling slightly.

Her presence gives me the strength I need. I reach out to touch her arm, then give her a small smile. “I’m glad you’re here,” I say.

It startles her out of whatever thoughts she had. She turns to me with a smile of her own, relieved, and presses herself closer to me as we reach the last floor and step out into the chaos of the Undercity.

The path toward Pressa’s shop is completely shut off. We wander past police barricades and troops lining the streets, of wary Undercity civilians eyeing the soldiers or grouped behind barriers, shouting angrily.

Pressa tightens her grip on my wrist. “This way,” she whispers, nodding us down a narrow alley away from the main streets.

We make our way along until we’ve gone past where most of the soldiers have set up. Here, the streets are more shaded by skyscraper shadows, the roads more cracked and broken.

I finally stop near where Pressa and I used to make our way down to the Undercity. The streets are quieter here, eerily so. We’re in uncertain territory now. I stop in the middle of the path, then place a call on my phone to Hann with the number he’d given me.

For a moment, I think no one will answer. Maybe he changed it by now, or never meant for me to use it at all.

Then a voice comes on. It’s not Hann, of course, but one of his associates. Her words fill my ears.

“Step out of the shadows, so we can have a better look at you,” she says. “The boss would like to know why you’re back in his neighborhood.”

Every hair on my neck stands on end. They’re already watching us. I look at Pressa, then motion for us to step into the light.

“Who’s the girl beside you?”

“A friend,” I answer. As if in response, Pressa reaches into her pack and holds up a box of vials. “Hann will remember her from the drone races. She’s here to give him something for his condition.”

I guess the associate wasn’t prepared to hear that. She pauses for a long time. When she finally does speak again, she’s still addressing me. “And what do you want?”

“I’m here to help him,” I reply. “If he’ll still have me. Tell him he was right about everything.” I hope he can’t hear the lie in my words. “And I’m here to warn him. The AIS is planning an attack on his system soon.”

The phone goes silent. I wait a few seconds longer. “Hello?” I ask, but she’s gone already.