Chapter 39 Consequences
Consequences
A well-regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.
Logan Bergeron must have been desperate to get my interview out there because the edited version aired three days later, all by itself during prime time. The other interviews would be released at a later date, but mine was special.
Someone had to do some fancy tech work in order for us to watch them live, as Unified News certainly wouldn’t be airing it. Theo invited Lucas and me to view privately with himself and Williams. We settled into chairs to watch on a small screen Theo had set up in his office.
Lucas gripped my sweaty hand when it started, and I grimaced at my pallid skin and dark circles. My curls at least had a bit of shine to them, but I swiftly forgot to care how I looked in favor of being horrified over my words.
In a generous sense, the story was true, but Lucas snorted at the removed details, the glossed-over ugly parts. His sarcastic voice kept a separate narration beside me. “Did it actually happen like this, or do I have memory loss? They painted me as a tragic antihero.”
“Logan Bergeron should go into politics,” I said.
Theo grunted in agreement.
All in all, it wasn’t bad…until we reached the panic attack.
It couldn’t have played out more dramatically if we were actors on a stage. My body froze at the question, the camera focusing on my face as blood drained from it. I lurched up, and the camera followed. The door slammed open, my hand clenching on the doorframe, holding myself upright. “Lucas?”
I took two steps into the hall. Lucas approached me, his cat-like paces quiet on the marble floor. That hungry expression on his face was familiar to me, but it surprised Williams.
“Oh, my,” she muttered.
Lucas stared wide-eyed at the screen. “Do I always look at you like that?”
“Usually,” I admitted.
Onscreen, Lucas reached me in a few steps, and his hands cupped my face. He murmured comforting words in a soft voice. The angle changed, and my face came into view as I stared at him, panicked and trusting.
“Damn!” I said. “Do I always look at you like that?”
“Why the fuck do you think I’ve been obsessed with your safety?” He pointed at the screen. “That is blind trust right there.”
“It’s not blind. I’ve obviously placed it appropriately.”
The fear washed from my expression as Lucas coaxed me out of the panic, though the tears remained. Lucas’s hand dropped to my waist and curved around my back, fisting my shirt with greedy fingers. My own hands did the same to him.
“You’ll stay with me?” my voice hummed.
He kissed my temple, and his whisper answered, “Until I die.”
The whole thing was an exercise in hopeless longing, like holding sand underwater, each grain slipping away no matter how tight the grasp. There was no heat or eroticism. Nothing remotely sexy. At least, not in my eyes. Just…desperation.
To me, we were two broken people clinging to the only thing they had left, but for the narrative, the story accentuated my brokenness and slapped a redeeming prince vibe on Lucas—exactly what Williams wanted.
The story embodied the universal struggles of humanity—hope versus heartbreak, love versus duty.
The stakes of life or death turned the tragedy of it all into something unforgettable.
People wanted to believe that love conquers all, and if the Defiance won, then Lucas and I could have our happy ending.
With our story, Williams had given the world a concrete reason to fight for us.
When she followed this up with the interviews of the NAO’s prisoners, people of all walks would react.
I touched Lucas’s hand. “Do you see what they did?”
“Yeah.” He hadn’t torn his gaze from the screen, but the dazed look morphed into one of horror. “Fuck!”
Williams startled at the volume of his voice. Theo whipped his head around.
“They filmed the hallway!” Lucas said, standing. “The interview room was covered, but they followed her into the hallway. The architecture…”
Williams and Theo also stood, their gazes on the screen. “They might not see—”
“They definitely fucking saw it,” Lucas said. “You need to sound the alarm. They’ve been looking for your headquarters for years. They’ll know exactly where you are now. They won’t hesitate. You have minutes at most.”
Theo leapt into action, marching from the room.
Lucas snatched my hand and dragged me after Theo. “Where are your weapons?”
“Cache is on the second floor.” Theo stopped at a fire alarm on the wall and pulled the lever. A piercing bell squealed through the halls. He snapped a radio off his belt, but Lucas grabbed my arms, distracting me before I could hear his orders.
“Stay by my side,” Lucas said. “We need to get weapons. Show me where the cache is.”
Nodding, I tried to organize my scattered thoughts. We left Theo and sprinted toward the stairs. The hallways had come alive, soldiers darting to and fro, arming themselves, falling into line. No one paid us any attention.
The weapons cache was highly guarded, and with the alarm sounding, the soldiers on duty had their hands full. They issued weapons per protocol for every frazzled soldier. When Lucas arrived, both men’s faces paled.
“You aren’t cleared for weapons,” one said while the other handed a rifle to an officer.
“Clear me,” Lucas said calmly, “or I’ll kill you.”
“Give him a goddamn weapon,” Theo yelled from the end of the hall. Behind him, a team of six escorted Nia Williams down the stairs.
Hands shaking, they hurried to issue Lucas a combat knife and a handgun. They did the same for me.
The building rumbled.
Beneath my feet, the floor vibrated.
“Shit,” Lucas muttered. He grabbed my arm, dragging me back toward the stairs. “No playing hero, Sophia. No leaping into dangerous situations. No trying to save me. Your only priority is surviving this. You will do exactly as I say. Do you understand me?”
I nodded, wide-eyed.
“Promise me.”
“I promise,” I said.
“If something happens to me, go to our house on Evanston, okay?”
I hesitated, but nodded at his threatening glare.
Down the hall, the west wing of the building exploded. Lucas threw me against a wall, using his body as a shield.
As soon as the debris settled, he had a tight hold on my arm again, dragging me toward the main stairs. We made it to the landing of the first floor when the front doors of headquarters erupted in a shower of wood, glass, and fire, followed by a flood of Hunters.
With a curse, Lucas pushed me back upstairs. At the top, he darted left. Several Defiants trailed us. He pulled me behind a corner and waited, gun ready.
“You shouldn’t waste bullets,” I whispered.
“Bullets aren’t wasted when they’re inside Hunters.”
Across from us, two Defiants mirrored Lucas.
The explosions downstairs shook the entire house. Gunshots roared an irregular tattoo of blasts through the air. Voices shouted from all directions.
When the first Hunter reached the landing, a shot fractured the air, ringing in my ears. Lucas’s bullet whizzed through our enemy’s body. The Defiant across from us did the same. Each explosion spiked my blood with more adrenaline. My heart tried to break my ribs with its pounding.
Four Hunters fell. The rest ducked behind a wall for cover.
Their counterfire flew. Lucas threw an arm around me even though I stood out of harm’s way. Useless.
“Need help?” Adam approached from behind, armed to the nines. He grinned and yanked the safety pin from a grenade with a flourish, throwing it at the staircase.
Shouts of warning echoed down the hall before the explosion.
Wood and debris scattered across the floor as we retreated. We reached the rotunda. An iron banister encircled the balcony, and we stayed at the periphery, breathing fast. Hunters darted through the doorways below.
“What’s the plan?” Adam asked.
“I have a safe house on Evanston Avenue. If we can make it out…”
“Got it,” Adam said, and passed down a handful of grenades. Lucas waved two fingers, and he and Adam stepped forward, followed by a few other Defiants. He signaled to release, and six grenades sailed toward the lower level.
Metal clanked on stone as we ducked. Lucas jumped on top of me, his weight digging my bones into the carpeted floor. The doors shattered into shrapnel that rained over us.
Adam patted his pockets. “Grenades didn’t last long.”
“Come on.” Lucas grabbed my elbow. “Get up.”
I kept my pistol ready in my right hand, my knife in my left. We stayed low while bullets lodged themselves in the walls above us, plaster dusting my skin and hair.
On the opposite side, we slipped into the east wing of the building. The closest stairway was blocked by a door. Adam held a finger to his lips. We stilled.
Lucas crept closer, leaning his ear toward the wood. He listened for six of my erratic heartbeats before kicking the door inward. It broke off the hinges, taking down a Hunter on the other side.
Another Hunter jumped back. “Shit!” He pointed a gun.
Lucas lunged for it. Long fingers wrapped around the Hunter’s wrist, shoving it away. The weapon discharged, and a bullet embedded in the ceiling.
Lucas slammed his elbow onto the man’s forearm. The bone snapped with a nauseating snick! The gun dropped to the ground.
Another Hunter charged the stairs as several others closed in from behind. I zeroed in on the lone man coming for me.
“You’re that bitch from the video.” He raised his voice. “She’s here!”
My gun rose as he sprang at me, and the kickback resonated in the bones of my hand. A single shot unloaded into his brain.
Heads spun in my direction.
One, two, three more Hunters fell from my bullets.
“Where is he?” one demanded.
Four.
I slammed against the wall as a couple of Hunters knocked into me. My bad leg spasmed.
Five. Six.
Blood sprayed with each slice and swipe of my comrades’ knives. I leapt back at the sharp silver aimed toward me.
Seven.