Chapter Thirty-Six
It took every ounce of his strength not to blow the governor’s brains out. He’d stolen Gemma’s best friend, the woman Hawk had come to love.
Christian’s eyes burned. But he kept a firm grip on the governor’s wrist, twisting harder and harder every time the man tried to slow his steps.
“I’ll give you back your citizenship,” Philip said. “I’ll even pardon Gemma.”
Christian’s nostrils flared. “Shut the fuck up and keep moving.” He yanked again on the governor’s wrist, and Philip cried out in pain.
At last, they reached the front door. It had been barred from the inside.
“Open it,” Christian commanded.
Wordlessly, Governor Gallowood shoved the bar from the door with his free hand and pulled it open wide.
No one even seemed to notice them; there were so few people left, and all were caught in a fight to the death.
“Call a ceasefire,” Christian commanded the governor.
“Weapons down,” Philip shouted.
At the sound of his voice, those closest to the house snapped their heads in their direction.
“You think I’m stupid?” Christian snapped. “Through their comms. Make this whole city surrender, or I will kill you.”
Philip snarled. “You really are the prize of the Falaichte, aren’t you?”
Christian wrenched the man’s wrist. “Do it.”
The governor, at last, placed his finger against the Systems comm in his ear. “Stand down. All troops, stand down.”
Immediately, the soldiers obeyed. Guns, knives, and other weapons were placed on the ground before the men and women of the Systems placed their hands behind their heads. Like a wave rolling back from shore, the sounds of war diminished until the city grew quiet.
Christian’s gaze swept across the mess until it caught on a familiar figure lying sprawled in the gutter—Ahna. Her eyes were still open, but her chest did not rise. The woman who had led SARTF with precision sharper than any blade was nothing but another corpse now.
He swallowed hard and turned to the cluster of survivors. Nadine was at the front, her dark brown hair wild, her face streaked with sweat and blood, and her rifle loose in her hands. Her eyes locked onto his.
“Tell them to return to Zion immediately and inform Rami Vidar that Nadine Proctor is now in charge of Perileos,” Christian said to the governor.
“Rami is to vacate his position immediately and call for transport to escort him and the rest of the Systems loyalists off this planet. You will remain in our care until we are assured the transport is ready to leave.”
“You can’t be serious,” Philip snapped.
Christian pushed the muzzle of his gun into the back of the governor’s head. “Don’t test me.”
With a growl, Governor Gallowood pressed the comm in his ear and repeated Christian’s words to every soldier within Perileos.
“Well done.” Christian cracked the man in the temple, and the governor fell, hard. The Systems soldiers nearby reached for their weapons, but the Dissenters reminded them who was in charge.
Christian looked directly at Nadine and nodded. “Reva is ours.”
For a heartbeat, silence held. Then the words dropped into the still square like sparks on dry tinder. A cheer broke from the ranks. One voice, then two, then a flood. Rifles lifted. Blades raised. Fists slammed against armor and walls.
It was a cry that would carry through every zone of the city.
Christian’s legs nearly buckled under the weight of it.
He gripped the doorframe, holding himself upright as the sound washed over him.
They had a long road ahead of them, fighting politically for their official freedom.
But for the first time since they’d stumbled into Tent City, since Gemma had been remade, since everything had spun toward this inevitable clash, he found himself believing in the most unlikely of things:
A future.