The Darkest Legacy (Darkest Min - Alexandra Bracken Page 0,21
that my foot caught his ankle. At the edge of my vision, the boy came tearing around the side of the car, a small gun in his hands. He wheeled back in surprise as I shoved myself up off the ground and launched my fist one, two, three times into the attacker’s throat.
“Down!”
I threw myself to the left as his first shot rang out. The attacker staggered back, pressing a hand to where his rubber vest had caught the bullet. The boy’s face was utterly expressionless as he adjusted his aim by less than an inch and fired again.
What the hell? It was an impossible shot, catching the man between the low-slung helmet and the rise of the vest that covered the lower half of his face. Even Vida would have struggled to make it.
The man dropped to the ground, bleeding out onto the cement between us.
The boy took a step toward me. I took a step back, heart jumping into my throat. This wasn’t just another Psi—this wasn’t just another kid. The training that took…
“Who the hell are you?” I snarled.
He’s part of this, that voice whispered. Him and the girl.
That unreadable mask faltered as he lowered his gun, only to draw it back up again, spinning toward the fountain.
The girl in the yellow dress was knocked back by another man dressed in solid black, but she went down kicking, beating her foot against his kneecap. Her impressive height and strong, athletic figure made them evenly matched—until the attacker trained his gun on her.
I took a running step toward them on instinct, but he wasn’t alone—we weren’t alone. Three more men, all in the same dark uniform, came running up from behind the police cars, guns trained on us.
“Go!” the boy shouted.
I swung my gaze to him as he squeezed off a shot at the other girl’s attacker. He spared only a single look at me, then pivoted toward the girl. The soldier dropped both knees onto the girl’s stomach, pinning her there.
The girl screamed in pain as she reached up to knock his helmet back, then clawed at its strap hard enough to choke him. With her kicking up to flip them, and the soldier trying to pin her, the boy couldn’t get a clear shot.
“Priya!” the boy shouted. “Stop!”
The man—the soldier—whoever it was—reached into a pocket on his vest and pulled out a yellow handheld device.
It had been so long since I’d seen one, and an old model at that. Years and years and years, hundreds of miles from this place, on the road in the middle of nowhere. The memory invaded my mind, filled my mouth with static until I was sure I could feel sparks traveling over my teeth.
But when the White Noise sounded, I couldn’t hear it. Didn’t feel it.
It tore through the others, and I knew exactly what they were feeling, how it must have shredded their thoughts and set fire to their nerve endings. The boy fought to stay on his feet as blood began to drip from his nose. The girl went terrifyingly still. The man laughed as he punched her again and got no response.
The other men were on the boy in an instant, kicking and beating him until, finally, he collapsed onto the sidewalk. He strained to lift up his head, finding my gaze.
I read the word on his lips: “Run!”
I could. I could take one of the deserted cars left in the lot and be in the wind, be gone. The realization made my knees lock, my hands shake.
But I hadn’t been able to leave that stranger at the gas station in West Virginia when she needed help. I couldn’t leave these strangers now, not after they’d tried to help me. Even if it came to nothing, I had to try. I’d cheated death once today. I could do it again. I wasn’t weak or small or frightened—I wasn’t that little girl anymore.
He’d trusted me. I’d brought them here, right into this. I had to be the one to get us out.
The words blazed through my mind as I threw myself onto the man holding the device, raking my broken nails down the exposed skin of his cheek. I knocked him sideways off the girl, clawing until I could get the device in my hand. My fingers brushed against it, making it spark and crackle as the plastic casing melted down into its wires.
The others stopped writhing, but before I could try to wake them, a pair of