Read Online The Last Revenant (Book 1): The Crash by J.S. Carter - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: J.S. Carter
Tags: Science-Fiction
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can do it, it's him.”
Ryan's head bobbed between the three of us like a buoy, his patience visibly wearing thinner by the moment. “That's fucking good for you.” He nudged Nick off the table. “Why the fuck are we still arguing about this?”
“Fine,” said Jeremy. I could see him hide a scowl, but even he must have finally succumbed to the lure of freedom. “I just need her for a minute.” I tried to follow him out before Ryan called for me.
“Jessica...” he started, and I stopped to see him set his feet up on his desk with two heavy thuds, his hands already on his lap. “ ... Is staying for a little conversation.”
I looked back at Jeremy and Scott for a sign of resistance, a wink of the eye, anything that would signify what I could expect to happen while on my own, but they only stared back with hollow eyes. It was over. We couldn't even get a quick word between the two of us, but at least they would finally be getting away.
I caught Jeremy's stare again, but Scott gently pulled him along. “Come on, we're burning daylight.”
They left, sunken and silent. Only Nick walked by with open arms, his back to the men that were holding us all hostage. “How about one for the road?” I was surprised when he gave me a hug and even more so when he grabbed my ass.
I pushed him off of me. “What the hell?”
He gave me a wink and the guard in the room shoved him out.
They left me and Ryan alone together and I hated every second of it. I wished he would have gotten angry and yelled in my face or threatened to hurt me. I wanted to fight him right then and there, but nothing came out. He was the last person on earth that I wanted to talk to and all he did was prolong it. I watched him absently roll the ring on his finger and take me in silently. The pause seemed too long by the time he finally let me have it.
“What do you know about Knox?”
Hearing his name caught me off guard. I remembered seeing the word plastered on every television screen along with the rest of the world, but I hadn't thought about it since what seemed like the beginning of it all. Knox had been behind every protest, especially those that had turned violent, making it perfectly clear that there had been a leader in the uprising that followed Zoey's death, the name synonymous to the movement, the ideals bleeding over from city to city and ultimately crashing into conflict in the middle of the streets.
I remembered the sleepless nights. Knox idealism had been nothing short of persecution. Anyone that might have been judged impure of heart was dealt with one way or another, though the punishment had usually been severe and dealt publicly without restraint. None of it could have been done without the fear, and with the fear—hate. The hate had turned into violence and the violence had turned into death. I remembered thinking that Knox had somehow been responsible for it all, but how could anyone prove that the actions of thousands, even millions of people were the result of one single person? How could one do so much?
I struggled, unsure how to answer, but also because I was scared of where the conversation might have been heading. “He killed...”
Ryan raised an eyebrow and he put his feet back down, pressuring me onward.
I started to relive what it was like coming home day after day to be connected to a constant stream of unfortunate events, to be surrounded by a web of anxiety. I had watched, just like anyone else, how Knox had targeted the government, how he had accused them of allowing the Catastrophe to happen and blamed them for the inequality and suffering in daily life. And it had only exponentially grown worse with time. Towards the end, the footage of beheadings in the middle of the street surrounded by cheering mobs and servicemen powerless to stop them would have been too much for anyone to forget. Even Ryan.
I tried again, this time more sure of my words. Anything else would have been putting it lightly. “He
Ryan's head bobbed between the three of us like a buoy, his patience visibly wearing thinner by the moment. “That's fucking good for you.” He nudged Nick off the table. “Why the fuck are we still arguing about this?”
“Fine,” said Jeremy. I could see him hide a scowl, but even he must have finally succumbed to the lure of freedom. “I just need her for a minute.” I tried to follow him out before Ryan called for me.
“Jessica...” he started, and I stopped to see him set his feet up on his desk with two heavy thuds, his hands already on his lap. “ ... Is staying for a little conversation.”
I looked back at Jeremy and Scott for a sign of resistance, a wink of the eye, anything that would signify what I could expect to happen while on my own, but they only stared back with hollow eyes. It was over. We couldn't even get a quick word between the two of us, but at least they would finally be getting away.
I caught Jeremy's stare again, but Scott gently pulled him along. “Come on, we're burning daylight.”
They left, sunken and silent. Only Nick walked by with open arms, his back to the men that were holding us all hostage. “How about one for the road?” I was surprised when he gave me a hug and even more so when he grabbed my ass.
I pushed him off of me. “What the hell?”
He gave me a wink and the guard in the room shoved him out.
They left me and Ryan alone together and I hated every second of it. I wished he would have gotten angry and yelled in my face or threatened to hurt me. I wanted to fight him right then and there, but nothing came out. He was the last person on earth that I wanted to talk to and all he did was prolong it. I watched him absently roll the ring on his finger and take me in silently. The pause seemed too long by the time he finally let me have it.
“What do you know about Knox?”
Hearing his name caught me off guard. I remembered seeing the word plastered on every television screen along with the rest of the world, but I hadn't thought about it since what seemed like the beginning of it all. Knox had been behind every protest, especially those that had turned violent, making it perfectly clear that there had been a leader in the uprising that followed Zoey's death, the name synonymous to the movement, the ideals bleeding over from city to city and ultimately crashing into conflict in the middle of the streets.
I remembered the sleepless nights. Knox idealism had been nothing short of persecution. Anyone that might have been judged impure of heart was dealt with one way or another, though the punishment had usually been severe and dealt publicly without restraint. None of it could have been done without the fear, and with the fear—hate. The hate had turned into violence and the violence had turned into death. I remembered thinking that Knox had somehow been responsible for it all, but how could anyone prove that the actions of thousands, even millions of people were the result of one single person? How could one do so much?
I struggled, unsure how to answer, but also because I was scared of where the conversation might have been heading. “He killed...”
Ryan raised an eyebrow and he put his feet back down, pressuring me onward.
I started to relive what it was like coming home day after day to be connected to a constant stream of unfortunate events, to be surrounded by a web of anxiety. I had watched, just like anyone else, how Knox had targeted the government, how he had accused them of allowing the Catastrophe to happen and blamed them for the inequality and suffering in daily life. And it had only exponentially grown worse with time. Towards the end, the footage of beheadings in the middle of the street surrounded by cheering mobs and servicemen powerless to stop them would have been too much for anyone to forget. Even Ryan.
I tried again, this time more sure of my words. Anything else would have been putting it lightly. “He
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