Read Online Legion by Brandon Sanderson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brandon Sanderson
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to be done. They’ll get her before help comes, and we lose the camera. It’s hero time.”
“I . . .”
“You could run, Stephen,” Tobias said. “There’s a room right behind us. There will be windows. I’m not saying you should do it; I’m giving you the options.”
Kalyani whimpered, huddled down in the corner. Ivy lay under a table, fingers in her ears, watching the firefight with calculating eyes.
Monica tried to duck out and fire, but bullets tore into the wall beside her, forcing her back. Salic was still yelling something. Several of the soldiers started firing on me, driving me back under cover.
Bullets popped against the wall above me, chips of stone dropping on my head. I breathed in and out. “I can’t do this, J.C.”
“You can,” he said. “Look, they’re carrying grenades. Did you see those on the belts of the soldiers? One will get smart, toss one of those down the stairwell, and Monica’s gone. Dead.”
If I let them keep the camera—that kind of power, in the hands of men like this . . .
Monica yelled.
“She’s hit!” Ivy called.
I scrambled out from behind the crates and ran for the fallen soldier at the center of the room. He’d dropped a handgun. Salic noticed me as I grabbed the weapon and raised it. My hands shook, quivering.
This is never going to work. I can’t do this. It’s impossible.
I’m going to die.
“Don’t worry, kid,” J.C. said, taking my wrist in his own. “I’ve got this.”
He pulled my arm to the side and I fired, barely looking, then he moved the gun in a series of motions, pausing just briefly for me to pull the trigger each time. It was over in moments.
Each of the armed men dropped. The room went completely still. J.C. released my wrist, and my arm fell leaden at my side.
“Did we do that?” I asked, looking at the fallen men.
“Damn,” Ivy said, unplugging her ears. “I knew there was a reason we kept you around, J.C.”
“Language, Ivy,” he said, grinning.
I dropped the pistol—probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but then again, I wasn’t exactly in my right mind. I hurried to Razon’s side. He had no pulse. I closed his eyes, but left the smile on his lips.
This was what he’d wanted. He’d wanted them to kill him so that he couldn’t be forced to give up his secrets. I sighed. Then, checking a theory, I shoved my hand into his pocket.
Something pricked my fingers, and I brought them out bloodied. “What . . . ?”
I hadn’t expected that .
“Leeds?” Monica’s voice said.
I looked up. She was standing in the doorway to the room, holding her shoulder, which was bloodied. “Did you do this?”
“J.C. did it,” I said.
“Your hallucination? Shot these men?”
“Yes. No. I . . .” I wasn’t sure. I stood up and walked over to Salic, who had been hit square in the forehead. I leaned down and picked up the camera, then twisted one piece of it, my back to Monica.
“Uh . . . Mister Steve?” Kalyani said, pointing. “I do not think that one is dead. Oh my.”
I looked. One of the guards I’d shot was turning over. He held something in a bloodied hand.
A grenade.
“Out!” I yelled at Monica, grabbing her by the arm as I charged out of the room.
The detonation hit me from behind like a crashing wave.
Exactly one month later, I sat in my mansion, drinking a cup of lemonade. My back ached, but the shrapnel wounds were healing. It hadn’t been that bad.
Monica did not give the cast on her arm much notice. She held her own cup, seated in the room where I’d first met her.
Her offer today had not been unexpected.
“I’m afraid,” I said, “you’ve come to the wrong person. I must refuse.”
“I see,” Monica said.
“She’s been working on her scowl,” J.C. said appreciatively from where he leaned against the wall. “It’s getting better.”
“If you would look at the camera . . .” Monica said.
“When I saw it last, it was in at least sixteen pieces,” I said.
“I . . .”
“You could run, Stephen,” Tobias said. “There’s a room right behind us. There will be windows. I’m not saying you should do it; I’m giving you the options.”
Kalyani whimpered, huddled down in the corner. Ivy lay under a table, fingers in her ears, watching the firefight with calculating eyes.
Monica tried to duck out and fire, but bullets tore into the wall beside her, forcing her back. Salic was still yelling something. Several of the soldiers started firing on me, driving me back under cover.
Bullets popped against the wall above me, chips of stone dropping on my head. I breathed in and out. “I can’t do this, J.C.”
“You can,” he said. “Look, they’re carrying grenades. Did you see those on the belts of the soldiers? One will get smart, toss one of those down the stairwell, and Monica’s gone. Dead.”
If I let them keep the camera—that kind of power, in the hands of men like this . . .
Monica yelled.
“She’s hit!” Ivy called.
I scrambled out from behind the crates and ran for the fallen soldier at the center of the room. He’d dropped a handgun. Salic noticed me as I grabbed the weapon and raised it. My hands shook, quivering.
This is never going to work. I can’t do this. It’s impossible.
I’m going to die.
“Don’t worry, kid,” J.C. said, taking my wrist in his own. “I’ve got this.”
He pulled my arm to the side and I fired, barely looking, then he moved the gun in a series of motions, pausing just briefly for me to pull the trigger each time. It was over in moments.
Each of the armed men dropped. The room went completely still. J.C. released my wrist, and my arm fell leaden at my side.
“Did we do that?” I asked, looking at the fallen men.
“Damn,” Ivy said, unplugging her ears. “I knew there was a reason we kept you around, J.C.”
“Language, Ivy,” he said, grinning.
I dropped the pistol—probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but then again, I wasn’t exactly in my right mind. I hurried to Razon’s side. He had no pulse. I closed his eyes, but left the smile on his lips.
This was what he’d wanted. He’d wanted them to kill him so that he couldn’t be forced to give up his secrets. I sighed. Then, checking a theory, I shoved my hand into his pocket.
Something pricked my fingers, and I brought them out bloodied. “What . . . ?”
I hadn’t expected that .
“Leeds?” Monica’s voice said.
I looked up. She was standing in the doorway to the room, holding her shoulder, which was bloodied. “Did you do this?”
“J.C. did it,” I said.
“Your hallucination? Shot these men?”
“Yes. No. I . . .” I wasn’t sure. I stood up and walked over to Salic, who had been hit square in the forehead. I leaned down and picked up the camera, then twisted one piece of it, my back to Monica.
“Uh . . . Mister Steve?” Kalyani said, pointing. “I do not think that one is dead. Oh my.”
I looked. One of the guards I’d shot was turning over. He held something in a bloodied hand.
A grenade.
“Out!” I yelled at Monica, grabbing her by the arm as I charged out of the room.
The detonation hit me from behind like a crashing wave.
Exactly one month later, I sat in my mansion, drinking a cup of lemonade. My back ached, but the shrapnel wounds were healing. It hadn’t been that bad.
Monica did not give the cast on her arm much notice. She held her own cup, seated in the room where I’d first met her.
Her offer today had not been unexpected.
“I’m afraid,” I said, “you’ve come to the wrong person. I must refuse.”
“I see,” Monica said.
“She’s been working on her scowl,” J.C. said appreciatively from where he leaned against the wall. “It’s getting better.”
“If you would look at the camera . . .” Monica said.
“When I saw it last, it was in at least sixteen pieces,” I said.
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