The Liberation

Published by Evernight Teen ® at Smashwords

www.evernightteen.com

Copyright© 2017 Stormy Corrin Russell

ISBN: 978-1-77339-465-7

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: JS Cook

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

For my readers. Without you, these books are nothing. Thanks for riding this roller coaster with me.

THE LIBERATION

The Separation Trilogy, 3

Stormy Corrin Russell

Copyright © 2017

Chapter One

Grace lied to me.

There are a million other things that I should be thinking about, given my most recent discovery, but I can’t shake the thought. Grace, the one person I trusted more than anyone in the world, lied to me about our entire way of life.

We never won the Gender War; there was never a war to win. We were ordinary people, stuck inside a fence, meant to live out our days as an amusement for Ryker Stroud. His father was behind the whole thing. And when Michael Stroud grew tired of his little toy, he handed it down to his son.

Or so Jesse Walker told me last night.

He says there’s much more for me to learn, but I couldn’t hear anymore. Not in the middle of the night during a thunderstorm. Once we decided that we were on the same side, Walker’s troops dropped their weapons. Then we all tried to get some sleep.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who spent most of the night lying awake with my stomach in knots. But today, in the early morning sunlight, I feel different. When I sit up to stretch the kinks out of my muscles, I see Luna and Blaze curled in the corner of the tent, sleeping lightly. Luna’s arm is thrown over her eyes to block the light, and Blaze twitches every few seconds. I doubt they slept much better than I did. Archer must be outside with Rusty.

Once I tiptoe from the tent, still damp from the night rain, I see Rusty sniffing around the trees. Archer leans against one of them. At first, he doesn’t notice me. He toes the soft earth with his boot, watching the dog. And then he sees me. There are dark circles under his eyes and he looks tense, but he smiles all the same.

Just like that, I feel at ease. I may be standing at the edge of a war — one the rest of the world knows nothing about — but at least I’m not alone.

What are we going to do? he asks me, voice low enough that we won’t be overheard. I’m not sure that I trust these people.

I’m not sure that we have time to decide, I counter. Phoenix is waiting for us to return with an army, and I intend to give her that.

How? He flicks dark hair out of his green-gold eyes, and I resist the urge to reach up and touch his face.

We have already come this far. We might as well finish the job.

He hardly pauses before he sets his jaw and nods. And Jesse Walker?

Well, if he really is on our side, he won’t mind a small detour.

Archer grins wickedly, and my pulse races. You’re something else, he murmurs, tucking my hair behind my ear.

You aren’t what I expected. A deep voice startles me enough that I leap back from Archer. Jesse Walker is smiling at us, blue eyes bright under dark brows and a curly mop of hair.

What do you mean? I cross my arms, trying to fight the feeling of nervousness this man gives me.

"Well… for one, I was expecting to have to teach you the perks of male friendship. Clearly you’ve already discovered that little joy." He smirks, and I relax somewhat.

While you’re here, there’s something I wanted to discuss. I stand tall, trying to appear firm and resolute. I won’t take no for an answer.

Understood. You have more questions. I can answer—

No. My voice pitches high for a moment, and I clear my throat. It’s not that I’m afraid to know more, but I’m not ready. Not yet.

Jesse looks perplexed. Then, what can—

I need your people. And you. I lift my chin, trying to project power in every part of my body. There’s an Unseparated compound not far from here. We’re under orders to get inside and recruit anyone who is willing to fight for our cause.

This isn’t exactly part of the plan, he points out. I have my own forces right here.

And I have mine. I clench my fists. But I need more. You’re in or you’re out, Walker. We were fighting this battle before you, and we’ll be fighting it after.

What’s your name? Jesse is watching me with half a smile on his face.

My name is Eroyn Fairchild. My voice rises in volume, and everyone in the forest around us turns to look.

Well, Eroyn Fairchild, you’ve got fire in you. I like that. He bites down on his lower lip, considering. And I think we can make a pit stop on the way to obliterating Ryker Stroud.

****

As it happens, the compound is exactly where Phoenix thought it would be, which makes me wonder — not for the first time — how she always seems to know the right move. My memory of this place isn’t perfect. After all, the last time I was here I was faint with hunger, desperate to survive or die or do anything to escape the pain. Nevertheless, this place feels familiar.

We are far enough away that only a patch of the fence is visible, but even from here it’s obvious that this fence is not like ours. Instead of strips of metal woven to create a solid, immovable barrier, this one is made up of tiny circular links, like a sheet of chain mail. Every few feet, the mesh blanket is secured to sturdy steel poles to keep it in place. It’s likely electrified, and if that isn’t enough, coils of razor wire loop through the top as far as the eye can see. A shiver runs down my spine at the sight. They must have added the hoops of wire since the last time we were here. Had we needed to climb over that, I think we’d have bled out before Ryker even found us.

I haven’t prepared for this.

But Jesse and his people evidently have. After we use Westlyn’s device, the W3, to knock out the power, they leap into action. Three of his black-clad figures cut through the thin brush after adjusting something on the bottoms of their boots. Without hesitation, they launch themselves at the fence and begin to climb the ten-foot enclosure. It’s then that I see what’s on their boots: spikes. The modified boots steady them as they reach the top, surveying the other side of the chainmail fence. A second later, all three turn and nod simultaneously, our sign that the area is clear. Still, each of the three people — two men and the woman named Imani — unslings a rifle and aims into the compound as a precaution. It all happens so fast that I nearly miss it.

By the time we reach the fence, two more of Jesse Walker’s people have climbed it and are clipping the razor wire off. My eyes widen at their efficiency. These people are professionals.

Archer and I scale the fence much more slowly, my fingers scrabbling for purchase against the tiny links. Jesse boosts me wordlessly, giving me just enough extra height to grab hold of Imani’s hand. Archer is more stubborn, struggling to reach the top twice before accepting help. The way down for him is much more graceful. He swings over and lets himself drop softly to the ground. I nearly do the same before faltering, remembering Luna. She’s terrified of heights, even something as low as this fence. The first time we broke in, I had to talk her through the whole process, and she was motivated by hunger then. What will it take to get her over now?

But when I scan the small group below us, she’s missing. A shot of panic races through me before I realize that she’s on the fence, too, looking pale but determined. I hold my hand out to her, but she grits her teeth and grabs the top rail instead, hoisting herself out of Walker’s boost and onto the top. Without pause, she drops lightly into Archer’s arms on the other side. She smiles at me triumphantly from the ground.

More proof that we are all changed people.

I follow suit, bending my knees as I land to try and avoid rolling my weak ankle. The little fright that comes from the fall is funny, considering that hopping this fence is the least of our worries.

On instinct, I draw my knife and watch the blade reflect the midmorning sun. I spent all last week sharpening it, though I don’t want to waste the edge on anyone here. This blade is for one man and one man only. I don’t think that I’ll see him here. He’s a coward, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, cowards don’t meet the enemy headlong. They fight from behind walls and other people and lies.

But just in case, I grip the handle and steady my breaths. You can never be too careful.

My eyes dart across the landscape, searching for danger. This part of the compound seems deserted, though. A few slight trees and brush obscure the view of the town, but the main cover is a collapsed red building. It’s more a pile of wet, red wood than a structure, but I still squat behind it with Luna and Archer while we wait for the others.

When Blaze hits the ground, he swears loudly, but that’s the only sound save for the birds singing. Despite his loud protests, we remain unnoticed.

I can only hope it stays that way.

As the rest of the group lands on this side of the fence with varying degrees of grace, I rehearse my speech in my head.

I wish Wes was here to do the talking. He’d know what to say. But I have to do this on my own.

Suddenly, a quick movement catches my eye past the decaying building in the trees. At the same moment, Jesse raises and cocks his gun in one fluid motion.

Step forward, he warns in a low voice, or we shoot you full of holes.

He’s not exaggerating. The entire company has a weapon trained on the wavering bramble between us and the buildings in the distance. If something goes wrong, whoever is back there won’t be coming out alive.

Wisely, the little boy steps out, holding his hands above his head.

He’s just a little kid, I hear Isaiah whisper, and then I see the guns begin to drop.

Not again.

The kid doesn’t have time to flee. Before he even drops his hands, I’m sprinting at him, launching myself off the side of the wood pile. He turns to run just as I reach him, throwing my full weight at his slight frame and forcing him to the ground. Despite the cries of Walker’s people behind me, I wrench the boy over onto his back, pinning him down with my knee on one arm and a hand on his throat.

He may seem innocent, but not everyone is fooled. When I glance up, Luna is right behind me, her pistol pointed directly at the child’s head. And from her expression, I can tell she’s serious. She remembers this place as well as I do, and neither of us wants a repeat.

Ero— Blaze starts, but I cut him off.

Trust me, I growl. "He’s not just a little kid."

I get no response, so I turn back to the boy beneath me, a smirk on my face. His brown eyes meet mine, fury and a touch of fear in them. He’s got a round face, ruddy cheeks with dirt smeared across one side. He has a button-nose, and I can see why Ryker has him doing his bidding. He’s cute. And he can’t be more than eight. No one suspects cute eight year olds of being evil.

Didn’t expect to see me again, did you? I press my knee a bit tighter on his arm and he grimaces. Stay still. I think we’ll have a use for you, Link.

****

If Link were any other little boy, I would be worried about his father coming to find him. But truth be told, I imagine that Link spends a great many days and nights missing, so I’m not too concerned. Considering that he’s Ryker’s informant, our luck couldn’t be better. The only trouble is agreeing on what to do with him.

Hostage, Tabby says firmly. We prove that we have him, make demands, then set him free when we get what we want.

You’re going to threaten them into fighting for us? Blaze raises a tawny eyebrow. Yes, that sounds like a brilliant plan.

Tabby shoots him a look and opens her mouth to protest, but she’s cut off by Luna.

And what if they don’t care about him? Then we risk losing the element of surprise for nothing. No one has come to search for him so far. Who’s to say that anyone will?

He’ll have to report to his boss eventually, Archer points out. And if he does, he’ll tell Ryker that we’re here.

"Hard to inform his master if he can’t speak, I grumble. Maybe we should cut out his tongue."

Ero. Archer looks at me evenly, his tone chastising. You don’t mean that.

I purse my lips but don’t answer. Logically, I know it’s wrong to hurt a child, but this one’s earned it.

Link stays sullen and silent, clearly unwilling to take part in the discussion. I can’t blame him. This is chaos. I am supposed to be leading these people, but despite having the perfect leverage, I can’t decide how to use it.

So let’s bide our time, Jesse suggests. No one knows we’re here. Let’s keep the element of surprise for as long as we can before we have to act.

Keep him tied up and guarded around the clock until we make a decision, I order, eyeing Jesse. I may agree with him, but I can’t have him thinking that he’s in charge. I still don’t trust him, and I can tell from Archer’s face that he doesn’t either.

Tabby takes first watch with Daphne, and I can think of few better suited for the job. If the boy so much as sneezes, he’ll catch a fist to the teeth. That alone is comforting. And while they watch, the rest of our little militia spreads out among the trees. We don’t light a fire for obvious reasons, although the grumble in my stomach demands something more substantial than the dried meat I pull out of my bag. Still, it’s much better than the last time I was here, and it will be well worth it when we leave with more fighters than when we came.

I lean against the punky pile of wood in the clearing, chewing through the hunk of beef. Archer, Luna, and Blaze wordlessly join me, scanning between the sparse trees for any sign of danger.

We’re really doing it, Luna whispers, half smiling.

I smirk back at her. We’re trying, anyway.

It’ll work. She nods, her curls bouncing. It has to.

I nod. I hate to think of the alternative. If we come back empty-handed, Phoenix may not let us in. I don’t even know how she’ll feel about Walker’s fighters. We’re all quiet for a while, except for the sound of our teeth tearing through the leathery meat.

If this doesn’t work, everything comes to a screeching halt. Phoenix may be willing to fight for her population, but she’s stubborn, too. And if she doesn’t think we have enough fighters to win, I don’t know what will happen. And I can’t wait much longer.

So what can we do to convince the people here that we they should stand with us? We won’t be able to show them the horror that we’ve seen — the bodies of poisoned men or the destruction in Genesis — and the first time we tried to convince a city that Ryker was the enemy, it didn’t turn out well. We will have to act fast, and change minds even faster.

And now that we don’t have Westlyn, that seems impossible.

A pang shoots through me. No matter how hard I push to make things right, I’ll never get him back.

That hurts worst of all.

Hey, Ero? A sweet voice brings me back to the present, and I see Estelle standing over me.

Hi. Yeah. I shake my head, trying to focus. What’s going on?

Nothing, just… Can I sit?

A laugh breezes out of me easily. You don’t have to ask, Estelle. It’s a field, not a dining room.

Sorry. She pushes her hair back into a headband, making her look younger than she is. I was thinking about the kid.

Yeah?

She lights up. Yeah. And I think I have an idea.

Chapter Two

Estelle’s plan, unsurprisingly, involves explosions. It’s clever, and I think it just might work. But the sun is setting, and we’ll need the morning light to set everything up. For tonight, we make camp in the cold, damp dark.

The tents are still dewy with raindrops, despite Tabby’s insistence that they were made waterproof before we set out. Even on the inside of the peak, little droplets slide down the fabric and splat onto the few bedclothes we brought. Everything is so damp right now that I can’t imagine ever feeling dry again.

I never realized how much I don’t like the rain.

But it isn’t raining now, and since Archer, Luna, and I have decided to relieve Tabby and Daphne of their post in an hour or two, there may be time for our soggy bed to dry out. In the meantime, it can’t hurt to explore.

It’s so quiet, Luna remarks as we make our way through the trees.

She’s right. We’ve walked far enough away from the fence that it’s impossible to hear the low murmuring between Walker’s people and ours, and there isn’t a single sound from within the compound. It’s eerie.

They have no electricity, Archer notices, craning his neck to get a better view of the town.

Good, I whisper. The worse it is here, the more they’ll want to leave.

Not that they’ll have much of a choice after Estelle’s through with them.

C’mon. I tug on Archer’s hand, a little thrill running through me at its warmth. Let’s go back.

Wait. Luna’s voice drops to a hiss, and the expression she wears puts me on high alert. I hear something.

And after a moment, so do I.

Link! A voice calls faintly. Link?

Shit. Archer’s fingers tighten around mine, and I feel my pulse pick up. We were wrong. Somebody does care about Link, and they’ve come to find him.

It’s dark, I remind them, dragging Luna behind some brush. They don’t know we’re here.

As seconds tick by, the voice drifts closer. The figure that eventually appears in the darkness is alone, and armed only with a flickering flashlight to find his way.

Link, he calls again, quietly shifting the weak beam of light.

It’s now or never.

Don’t move. My voice is low, but the man starts all the same, dropping the flashlight to the ground. His body is silhouetted, black in the dim light, with hands up in surrender.

Alright, I won’t, just… where’s the kid?

I’ll worry about that, I tell him, edging closer and raising my knife.

Archer cuts quietly around to the other side of the man, snatching the light from the slick grass and training it on him.

Even in the flickering light, even without hearing more than a sentence this man has to say, I can tell that Archer recognizes him. His face twists, changing from fear to astonishment to disgust in seconds before he speaks.

Dad?

****

Marcus Black