Champion (Legend 3)

“And so should you,” he adds. “The fight’s just beginning.”

“If I tell you to stop worrying, will you?”

My reply gets a wry smile from him. “Are the Antarcticans coming to help us?” Day asks. “Did you tell Anden about the cure—”

“Calm down,” I interrupt him, then stand up and put a hand on Pascao’s shoulder. “Watch out for him. I’m going back to the tower to help with the evacuations. I’ll tell them to bring his brother here.” Pascao nods quickly, and I cast one last glance toward Day before running out of the building.

A stream of people is making its way out of the tower, with Republic soldiers flanking them on either side. Some are on crutches or in wheelchairs, while others are strapped to gurneys and being wheeled out by a team of medics. Republic soldiers bark orders at them, their guns hoisted and their bodies tense. I hurry past them and toward the entrance, then push my way inside to the stairs. I hop up the steps two at a time until I finally reach the lab floor, where the door’s propped open and a nurse is directing people toward the elevator.

I reach the nurse and grab her arm. She turns to look at me, startled. “Princeps-Elect,” she manages to blurt out, hastily bowing her head. “What are you—”

“Eden Bataar Wing,” I say breathlessly. “Is he ready to go yet?”

“Day’s brother?” she replies. “Yes—yes, he’s in his room. We’re preparing to move him comfortably. He still needs to be in a wheelchair, but—”

“And Tess? The girl who was under quarantine?”

“She’s already on her way downstairs—”

I don’t wait for the nurse to finish before rushing into the main lab room and toward the corridor. At the very end, I see a pair of doctors wheeling Eden out. He looks like he’s unconscious, resting on a small pillow propped between his head and the chair’s back, his forehead damp with sweat.

I give the doctors instructions on where to take him as we all hurry together toward the elevator. “You’ll see Day there. Keep him with his brother.”

Another explosion rips through the building, forcing half of us to our knees. Some of the medics scream. Dust rains down from the ceiling, making my eyes water—I unbutton my coat, then shrug out of it and throw it across Eden to shield him. “No elevator,” I gasp out, heading toward the stairs instead. “Can we carry him down?”

One of the nurses gingerly picks Eden up and holds him tight in her arms. We hurry down the stairs as more dust showers us and muffled sounds of shouts, guns, and explosions echo from outside.

We rush out into a lengthening evening lit completely by the fire of battle. Still no call from Anden. My eyes sweep the roofs as we pause underneath the entrance, other evacuees streaming around us and between Republic guards. One of the guards recognizes me and hurries over, throwing a quick salute before he speaks. “Princeps-Elect!” he shouts. “Get to the adjacent shelter, as quick as you can—we’ll send a jeep to take you to the Elector.”

I shake my head right away. “No. I’m staying here.” A spark from the roofs makes me look up, and instantly we all cringe when a bullet hits the overhang in front of the main entrance. There are Colonies gunmen on the roofs. Several of the Republic soldiers point their guns and open fire. The guard who had spoken to me puts a hand on my shoulder. “Then move out,” he yells, gesturing wildly for us.

The nurse holding Eden takes several steps forward, her eyes still fixed in terror on the rooftops. I put a hand out to stop her. “Not yet,” I say. “Stay here a moment.” Not two seconds after the words leave my mouth, I see a bullet hit one of the evacuees—blood sprays, and instantly the people around him flee, screams reverberating in the air. My heart pounds as I scan the roofs again. One of the Republic soldiers finally catches a gunman, and I see somebody in a Colonies uniform fall from the top of a nearby building. I look away before the body hits the ground, but I’m still struck by a violent wave of nausea. How do we get Eden to safety?

“Stay here,” I command the nurse holding Eden. Then I tap four of the Republic soldiers. “Cover me. I’m heading up there.” I gesture for one of the guards to hand me the gun at his belt, and he passes it over without hesitation.

I move into the crowds and make my way toward the buildings. I try to imitate the effortless grace that Day and Pascao have in this urban jungle. As the chaotic evacuations continue and soldiers from both sides face off against one another, I hurry into the shadows of a narrow, nearby alley and start making my way up the side of the building. I’m small, dressed in dark clothes, and alone. They won’t expect me to head up here. My mind runs through all of my sharpshooting lessons. If I can throw them off, it’ll give the evacuees that much more of a chance to make it out in one piece. Even as I think this, another Colonies jet zooms overhead and a huge plume of bright red flame erupts on the Bank Tower. A Republic jet tails close behind it, firing as it goes—as I look on, it manages to hit the Colonies plane and ignite one of its engines, sending it careening wildly to one side and leaving a trail of dark smoke behind it. A deafening roar follows; it must have crashed several blocks down. I look back up at the burning tower. We don’t have much time. This building is going to come down. I grit my teeth and make my way up as fast as I can. If only I were as good a Runner as Day and Pascao.

I finally reach the top floor’s ledge. From here, I get a good view of the battle zone below me. The Bank Tower is under siege from the sky and the ground, where hundreds of Republic troops are pushing back in the streets against a steady tide of enemy soldiers. Patients and medics alike still stream from the tower and down the street toward the makeshift shelter, along with government officials from the higher floors, many of them covered completely in white dust and blood. I peer over the top ledge.