Champion (Legend 3)

I’m dying. I really am dying. It’s times like this when I’m glad that I don’t see much of June anymore. The thought of her seeing me sweating and dirty on my kitchen floor, clutching my baby brother’s hand for dear life like some weepy weakling, while she’s breathtaking in her scarlet gown and jewel-studded hair . . . You know, for that matter, in this moment I’m even relieved that Mom and John can’t see me.

When I moan from another excruciating stab of pain, Eden pulls out his com again and presses the knob. “That’s it. I’m calling the doctors.” When the com beeps, prompting him for his command, he says, “Day needs an ambulance.” Then, before I can protest, he raises his voice and calls out for Lucy.

Seconds later, I hear Lucy approach. She doesn’t turn the light on—she knows that it only makes my headaches that much worse. Instead, I see her stout silhouette in the darkness and hear her exclaim, “Day! How long have you been out here?” She rushes over to me and puts one plump hand against my cheek. Then she glances at Eden and touches his chin. “Did you call for the doctors?”

Eden nods. Lucy inspects my face again, then clucks her tongue in worried disapproval and bustles off to grab a cool towel.

The last place I want to be right now is lying in a Republic hospital—but Eden’s already placed the call, and I’d rather not be dead anyway. My vision has started to blur, and I realize it’s because I can’t stop my eyes from watering nonstop. I wipe a hand across my face and smile weakly at Eden. “Damn, I’m dripping water like a leaky faucet.”

Eden tries to smile back. “Yeah, you’ve had better days,” he replies.

“Hey, kid. Remember that time when John asked you to be in charge of watering the plants outside our door?”

Eden frowns for a second, digging through his memories, and then a grin lights up his face. “I did a pretty good job, didn’t I?”

“You built that little makeshift catapult in front of our door.” I close my eyes and indulge in the memory, a temporary distraction from all the pain. “Yeah, I remember that thing. You kept lobbing water balloons at those poor flowers. Did they even have any petals left after you were done? Oh man, John was so pissed.” He was even madder because Eden was only four at the time and, well, how do you punish your wide-eyed baby brother?

Eden giggles. I wince as another wave of agony hits me.

“What was it that Mom used to say about us?” he asks. Now I can tell that he’s trying to keep my mind on other things too.

I manage a smile. “Mom used to say that having three boys was kind of like having a pet tornado that talked back.” The two of us laugh for a moment, at least before I squint my eyes shut again.

Lucy comes back with the towel. She places it against my forehead, and I sigh in relief at its cool surface. She checks my pulse, then my temperature.

“Daniel,” Eden pipes up while she works. He scoots closer, his eyes still staring blankly off at a spot to the right of my head. “Hang in there, okay?”

Lucy shoots him a critical frown at what his tone implies. “Eden,” she scolds. “More optimism in this house, please.”

A lump rises in my throat, turning my breath shallower. John’s gone, Mom’s gone, Dad’s gone. I watch Eden with a heavy ache in my chest. I used to hope that since he was the youngest of us boys, he might be able to learn from John’s and my mistakes and be the luckiest out of us, maybe make it into a college or earn a good living as a mechanic, that we’d be around to guide him through the difficult times in life. What would happen to him if I were gone too? What happens if he has to stand alone against the Republic?

“Eden,” I suddenly whisper to him, pulling him close. His eyes widen at my urgent tone. “Listen close, yeah? If the Republic ever asks you to go with them, if I’m ever not home or I’m in the hospital and they come knocking on our door, don’t ever go with them. You understand me? You call me first, you scream for Lucy, you . . .” I hesitate. “You call for June Iparis.”

“Your Princeps-Elect?”

“She’s not my—” I grimace at another wave of pain. “Just do it. Call her. Tell her to stop them.”

“I don’t understand—”

“Promise me. Don’t go with them, whatever you do. Okay?” My answer’s cut short when a jolt of pain hits me hard enough to send me collapsing to the ground, curled up into a tight ball. I choke out a shriek—my head feels like it’s being split in two. I even put a trembling hand to the back of my head as if to make sure my brain’s not leaking out onto the floor. Somewhere above me, Eden is shouting. Lucy places another call to the doctor, this time frantic.

“Just hurry!” she yells. “Hurry!”

By the time the medics arrive, I’m fading in and out of consciousness. Through a cloud of haze and fog, I feel myself getting lifted off the kitchen floor and carried out of the apartment tower, then into a waiting ambulance that has been disguised to look like a regular police jeep. Is it snowing? A few light flakes drift onto my face, shocking me with pinpricks of coldness. I call out for Eden and Lucy—they respond from somewhere I can’t see.

Then we’re in the ambulance and pulling away.

All I see for a long time are blobs of color, fuzzy circles moving back and forth across my vision, like I’m peering through thick, bumpy glass. I try to recognize some of them. Are they people? I sure as hell hope so—otherwise I really must have died, or maybe I’m floating in the ocean and debris is just drifting all around me. That doesn’t make any sense, though, unless the doctors just decided to toss me right into the Pacific and forget about me. Where’s Eden? They must’ve taken him away. Just like in the nightmare. They’ve dragged him off to the labs.