The Fortunates (Unfortunate #2) - Skyla Madi Page 0,78
my chin where his shoulder curves into his neck and glance down at the handgun in his hand. I’ve never thought of weapon as beautiful before, but this one certainly is. Kade strokes the face of the lion that’s expertly carved into the handle.
“I was there…I had the gun pointed at his head while he slept, but I couldn’t pull the trigger.”
Disappointment bites my chest, but I ignore it. I guess it’s a good thing he didn’t. I’d hate for Vince to miss the shitstorm we were going to whip up.
Sighing, Kade places his gun on the bedside table. “What is wrong with me?”
“Nothing is wrong with you.” I don’t sound very convincing.
Standing up, Kaden shrugs his blood-stained jacket off his shoulders and lets it fall down his arms to the floor. I sit back on my heels, resting my hands in my lap.
“I still remember the excitement I felt when my mother brought him home.” He whips his shirt off over his head and tosses it away. “He was so small and innocent. I’d give anything to go back in time and fix him…”
I swallow the bitterness dancing on the tip of my tongue. I’d only go back in time to stop Vince’s conception. Nothing else.
“I bet that makes you sick,” he states, pulling back the blankets.
I shake my head as I crawl to the top of the bed and slip underneath the blankets with him. Kade pulls me into his warm arms and holds me close, so close I can barely breathe and I love it.
“He’s your brother. I get it.” That’s a lie. I don’t get it. “No one expects you to make that decision.”
Maybe it’s because I don’t have a sibling and I don’t understand that familial bond, but Vince is a monster and I will wear his heart as a badge of honour around my fucking neck.
Chapter
Twenty-One
Anna
(Three Weeks Later)
Today is the day.
I haven’t slept much since the night Vince killed Portia. Kade hasn’t either, though he spends all day in bed while I finish making last minute adjustments to our plan. It’s quite simple, really. As the sun sets over the horizon this evening, the moderators in the Unfortunate camp on our side will kill the moderators on their side. Yesterday, John informed us that the moderators guarding the fence and patrolling the town will have a shift change at five to six, giving us a fighting chance at making it to the Unfortunate camp at the top of the hill before they have time to react. The most important thing for us today is getting as many people to the camp as we can. We need to keep those who don’t want to fight safe while assembling a small army of those who do.
The Unfortunate camp on the hill is the perfect place to plan our next move and keep an eye on our surroundings while we do.
To be honest, we don’t know what our next step is. Ideally, we’d like to start negotiating new laws right off the bat, but obviously that’s unrealistic. They’re going to test us. They’re going to see how strong our will is and, when we don’t back down, they’re going to get angry and come at us with all they’ve got. We have to be ready for that.
Or it’s all for nothing.
As soon as we’re in and the large gates of the camp are closed behind us, we’ll start plotting our attacks. We want to hit them where it hurts first.
Their companies…
And then their homes…
And then their lives…
They need to know we’re serious.
Yesterday, the last of the weapons were deposited in the camp silos and scattered throughout varying locations around the town. This was done by moderators on our side to avoid suspicion. They’re always moving weapons, so pushing a wheelbarrow full of rifles isn’t something anyone considers odd.
Sighing, I lower the bullet I’ve been staring at for the past hour and set it on my table with trembling fingers. Do I even have what it takes to pull the trigger? On the occasions that Kade has managed to drag himself from the bed, he’s done five things. Use the toilet, shower, nibble on food, drink alcohol, and show me how to use a rifle. I know the ins and out of one now, but I still don’t know what it feels like to shoot one. Kade said shooting a rifle isn’t a good idea, especially in light of Portia’s death. It’s suspicious, apparently. Maybe he’s right.