“Your clone-guards are almost defeated,” I said, gesturing to the almost-quiet sky. “We’ve nearly got them contained now.”
Malice glinted in his dark eyes. “All of them?”
Sudden fear struck me, struck me hard. Darke touched his temple. “One thought, and I’ll have another five thousand clones here in under five minutes.”
I didn’t detect any deceit. He really had more clones.
Before I could respond, a cheer rose up from the crowd. It sounded wild and free, and I knew my Resistance had won.
“I’ve instructed them to regroup at Rise Twelve,” Thane murmured in my ear.
I nodded slightly, glad one of us had a cache to keep in contact with the group. Rise Twelve would be the best place for our troops if Darke was rallying for another attack.
No one seemed to want to make the first move. I exercised my patience, and waited for Darke to act. With his personal tech security systems on, my voice wouldn’t do much. My tech gadgets could be used against me. So I waited,
waited,
waited.
The pressure in my chest pinched tighter and tighter with every second. I opened my mouth and screamed in an attempt to release the pressure inside.
The hoverboard under my feet lurched. I stepped back to regain my balance, expecting to bump into Thane.
But he wasn’t there.
He was flying through the air, straight toward Darke, his hands outstretched. Thane hit Darke full force, clenching his hands around Darke’s throat. Together, they landed on Darke’s hoverboard, which shimmied and started to tip sideways.
My fingers fumbled along my belt, desperate to find something that would incapacitate Darke, but leave Thane unharmed.
The two tangled together, wrestling against one another. “Jag!” Thane yelled. “Jag, now!”
I struggled for a solution, but I seemed frozen. Everything happened so fast, and their hoverboard tilted and tipped, yet they stayed on.
“Jag!” Thane screamed.
Jag, Jag, Jag, Jagjagjag! My name sliced through the night.
My fingers closed around a spherical object. Darke threw a punch. Thane’s head snapped back, and he slid from the hoverboard as I launched the grenade.
The resulting explosion filled the sky with bright yellow light that illuminated Thane’s slack face as he fell into the depths of the night.
Zenn
56. “Tell me about my dad,” I demanded as soon as we flew away from Jag. “Vi, tell me.”
She looked me straight in the face. “He died in Rancho Port—helping Jag to escape.”
The air left my lungs. Dead. My father was dead. Part of me died with her words. “When?” Though it didn’t really matter, I needed to know.
“A few days before they brought Jag to Freedom,” she said. “About six weeks ago.”
Just over a month. One month. Shame filled me. I should’ve looked for him. I’d had the resources in Freedom. I’d had the leeway. But I didn’t. I was afraid of finding him, afraid of that familiar pride I’d find in his eyes for the things I’d done, afraid of telling him about the mistakes I’d made.
I flew as if in a fog. I spoke without thought. The battle raged around us, despite my voice-controlling clone after clone to descend to the ground and freeze. Despite Vi’s mind control and the line of guards she sent to the camps, where they’d be detained.
“Zenn, it’s not enough,” Vi said, and her voice shook with frustration. “I have to do something different.”
She stepped from her board to mine, lacing her arms around my waist. I instantly snapped out of the my-father-is-dead haze. I looked down at her, and found the fear in her eyes so unsettling.
She’d looked at me this way before. When we’d snuck to the Abandoned Area. When Ty had disappeared. When I’d told her I was leaving for the Special Forces. We’d been there for each other for years, through fear and loss and heartache.
“I love you,” I said before I could stop myself.
“I love you too,” she said. “Please stay with me. Don’t drop me.”
I didn’t understand what she meant until her eyes rolled back into her head and she slumped against me. The guard flying toward us suddenly jerked, climbing above us on his hoverboard. He smiled coldly at me before he started firing on the three officers that were flying with him.
And then I knew. Vi had given herself in order to control others. Please stay with me. Don’t drop me. I love you, love you, love you.
I lowered her to the board and crouched over her still form. I would stay with her until the end, whenever that may be.
I navigated the board through the fray, following the guard as he annihilated those around him. When taser fire hit my board, I ignored the pain in my chest even though the heat reminded me of the fires I’d seen on the propaganda vids. The crackle of flames sounded in my ears though the night sky wasn’t filled with fire.
Something sliced through my right arm, but I pressed my bleeding wrist to my side and kept navigating after the guard. I leaned over Vi’s body and voice-ordered anyone who got too close to turn themselves in at the camps.
I glanced at Vi’s body. Drops of blood decorated her face. My heart leapt in fear—had she been hit? Then I realized the blood was dripping from a gash that ran from my wrist to my elbow. The pain was held at bay by the adrenaline pumping through me. My board bucked, sharp heat exploded in my chest, and in the distance, I heard someone call my name.
It sounded like my father, but I knew that was wishful thinking. I ignored the voice—and the pain rising through my body—and kept following the guard. Minutes or hours later the officer finally turned to look at me. His chest heaved with the effort it took to breathe. I knew exactly how he felt. I pressed my hand to my heart and felt a sticky warmth there.
“Go,” he said, and then his body crumpled to his board.
I could barely support my own weight. I couldn’t get enough air. Vi was soaked with blood, and so was I.
“Rise Twelve,” I croaked.
* * *
“Whoa. Are you guys okay?” a girl asked.
“She took control of someone’s body,” I said as we hit the roof hard. I rolled onto my back, still cradling Vi in my arms. My breathing was ragged and sounded wet. “She told me what she was doing. She told me not leave her.” I sucked in another breath and looked into Starr’s eyes. “I didn’t leave her.”
“You need medical attention,” Starr said. “Go get help; I’ll take care of Vi.”
I shook my head, which felt detached from my body. “No, I’m staying with her. She asked me to stay with her.”
“Go get Fret,” Starr said to someone I couldn’t see.
“Yes, Fret. I need to see my brother.” I sighed as another grenade exploded nearby. Its light illuminated two people riding one hoverboard, but I didn’t give them much thought.
My legs, my arms, my face—nothing even hurt. I had Vi. She loved me. Jag had charged me with her care. His trust meant more than my life, which I felt slipping through my fingers like water.
Fret held his fingers to my throat. “Brother,” he said. “We need to get him inside.”
“How’d you get here?” I asked, unable to move.
“I brought over two thousand people from Harvest. Trek contacted us. We now have more Insiders than Darke has clones.”
I didn’t respond. My head hurt too much and I didn’t know what to say.
“Please, Zenn—”
“Did you know Dad is dead?” I blurted out. I turned my head toward him and found the truth in his downcast eyes. “You did. Why didn’t you tell me? In Castledale, you could’ve told me.”
“I didn’t want to be the one to bring him up,” Fret said. “I regret it. I’m sorry.”
“That was—” I cut off, afraid to voice what I truly thought. That Fret was a coward. That he’d known Dad had loved me more. That he should’ve told me, no matter what.
A cheer rose from the crowd in the sky. I didn??
?t share their joy. I felt so, so tired.
“I miss you,” I said. I coughed, and tasted blood. Fret had done a lot for the Resistance. Father had never seen the value in Fret’s contributions because Fret had no talent. I hadn’t either—until now. Fret’s influence—however small—over thousands of people had brought help to Freedom. Help when we needed it most.
“I miss you too, brother,” he said. “You’ll be okay, you’ll see.” His voice cracked on the last word.
Another grenade explosion brightened the sky. I saw someone fall. “Take Vi inside,” I whispered. “Please.”
Vi woke as Fret attempted to remove my arms from around her. I still couldn’t move. She leaned over me, tears filling her beautiful eyes. “Zenn, oh no. Please.” Her hands hovered above me, not quite touching me, but flitting around like they wanted to.
“I love you,” I whispered again.
She bent closer and kissed me quickly on the mouth. “You’re my best friend,” she said. “I can’t—you can’t—” Then her tears fell, splashing against my face and neck. She cradled my face in her hands.
At her touch, I closed my eyes and focused on breathing. It was so, so hard.
* * *
Around me, people seem to be crying. Raine and Gunn. Trek and Fret. Jag.
Saffediene howls into the night, and strangely it’s Vi who comforts her. She’s sobbing too and hugging Saffediene like if she lets go, they’ll both shatter.
In the dark, I smile. I feel like I’ve come home. Saffediene was right. No matter what I’ve done, I can come back to these people and they’ll forgive me. Because they’re my friends. I’ve been through so much with each of them, experienced some of the best times and some of the worst. They accept me. And I finally know which society is better.
Finally, I am free.
Jag
57. The conference room in Rise Twelve has seen better days. The sun streams into the room, and the table is filled with bottles of water and bags of food. It’s lunchtime, and I’ve gathered everyone for a debriefing before we send traveling teams to key cities in the Association.
“Our losses include River Isaacs, Thane Myers, and Laurel Woods,” I say, my voice tight with emotion. “I will file a full report on Thane’s death, as he gave his life to spare mine and to ensure the success of this mission.”
Next to me, Vi stares straight ahead. “Zenn Bower died,” she says. “Flying with my additional weight was difficult for him, and he took many hits before we made it back to Rise Twelve.”
I squeeze her hand, but it’s not enough to ease her grief. I’ve felt the pain of losing two parents in the same day, and there is never enough happiness to fill that void. Not now, not ever.
And with the loss of Zenn too? I suspect Vi will never heal completely. Sure, time dulls the pain, but there’s always something that brings it back to the surface. She has me. I’ll help her keep that pain at bay. Blaze and Pace had done the same for me many times. Both my brothers are dead. I grip Vi’s hand too tight as the breath leaves my body. I will have to learn to rely on her for the comfort Blaze and Pace once gave.
I meet her eyes, and she raises her eyebrows in a silent question: Are you okay?
I might never be okay, but I simply nod. For now, I’m still alive.
And we won.
Irvine weeps silently into his hands, once again reminding me that our victory has a steep price. I’ll never get to explain myself to Indy. Never get to say good-bye. I clear my throat in an attempt to push back the grief at losing her without making things right between us.
“Traveling teams will leave tomorrow at first light,” I say. “Who feels like they can volunteer for these missions?” I’m through assigning, and I don’t expect anyone to raise their hands.
But Saffediene does, immediately followed by Mason Isaacs. They catch each other’s eyes, and I know they’d rather be anywhere but here. One lost a boyfriend, the other a daughter. I assign them the coastal northwestern cities. It’s the longest mission available.
Surprisingly, Gunner volunteers too, with Raine’s hand raised as high as his. They get seven cities to visit and instruct. With Gunn’s voice, I know everything will be taken care of.
“Irv,” I say. “Will you and Trek stay here? Maintain the transmissions and start the clean up?”
He nods, his eyes still rimmed with tears.
“Won’t you be here?” Gunner asks.
“No,” I say. “Vi and I will take the Mountain Region out west. Right, babe?” I look at her and find gratitude in her expression. She needs to go home, away from this city where the most important people in her life have died. She needs to sleep in her own bed, and sit on Zenn’s front steps, and skip rocks in the lake like she used to with Ty.
“Yeah, sure,” she says. “I want to go back to Seaside anyway. I’d like to visit my sister’s grave.”
“I’ll come too,” Fret Bower says. “I want to erect a memorial for my brother and my father in the Goodgrounds.”
I swallow hard, purposefully not looking at the empty seat next to me where my second-in-command—my once-best-friend—Zenn—should be sitting. I cannot imagine anyone but Zenn writing me notes and sliding them across the table. I cannot thank him enough for giving his life to the Resistance. For dying so Vi could live.
“It’s settled then,” I say, unable to contain the tremor of pain in my voice. “The three of us will go together.”
acknowledgments
Wow, a third book! What an adventure this series has turned into. From Possession—which was written as a stand-alone—to Abandon, I can’t thank Anica Rissi and Annette Pollert enough. The whole crew at Simon Pulse is an absolute joy to work with.
Michelle Andelman is one of my biggest champions, and this book wouldn’t have even been written without her.
I appreciate all the questions and conversations about my writing and books from my friends and family. You are all made of awesomesauce! Especially Adam, my patient husband, and my kids, who have eaten more home-cooked meals this year than ever before.
The life of a writer is filled with roller coasters. For making the ride fun: the Baconistas. Seriously. I’d be dead in the water without you. For encouraging me to get back in line for another ride: my critique group. You guys are awesome listeners. For reminding me that roller coasters are at carnivals and carnivals are supposed to be magical: my blog readers. Your support is priceless. Thank you, thank you!
I love getting e-mails and Facebook messages from readers who love this series. You always make me smile—and I hope Abandon is the ending you were hoping for.
elana johnson wishes she could experience her first kiss again, tell the mean girl where to go, and have cool superpowers. To fulfill her desires, she writes young adult science fiction and fantasy. She lives in central Utah, where she spends her time with many students, one husband, and two kids. Find out more at elanajohnson.com.
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Also by Elana Johnson
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Copyright © 2013 by Elana Johnson
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Jacket designed by Angela Goddard
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Author photograph by Penny Welch
The text of this book was set in Berling LT.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Johnson, Elana.
Abandon : a Possession novel / Elana Johnson. — First Simon Pulse edition.
p. cm.
Summary: Jag, Zenn, Vi, and the rest of the Resistance are determined to take down the Thinkers, but there is a traitor among them, who could cost them their cause—and their lives.
[1. Science fiction. 2. Rules (Philosophy)—Fiction. 3. Brainwashing—Fiction. 4. Insurgency—Fiction. 5. Love—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.J64053Abj 2013 [Fic]—dc23 2012051441
ISBN 978-1-4424-8482-5 (hc)
ISBN 978-1-4424-8481-8 (pbk)
ISBN 978-1-4424-8483-2 (eBook)
Contents
1: Jag
2: Zenn
3: Jag