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Push (Beat series Book 2)
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Future House Publishing
Push
Future House Publishing
Text © 2017 Jared Garrett
Cover illustration © 2017 Future House Publishing
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the written permission of Future House Publishing at [email protected].
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-944452-73-5 (paperback)
Cover illustration by Ryan Sonderegger
Developmental editing by Brooke Sorensen
Substantive editing by Claire Nielsen
Copy editing by Stephanie Cullen
Proofreading by Brittany Casselman
Interior design by Hannah M. Earl
For traitorous right kidneys. You know who you are.
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Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
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Acknowledgements
About the Author
Chapter 1
“Run!”
Bullets shredded the leaves of the hardy trees around us. I dove under an outstretched branch, angling to get a rough tree trunk between me and the Ranjers. In the corner of my eye, I saw Melisa use a branch to help her pivot fast around another tree. She disappeared into the woods to my left. Where was Pol?
I shouted again. “Get out of sight!”
My squad filled the area with the noise of shouting and snapping twigs as they frantically tried to get some distance between them and the Ranjers.
How did the Ranjers find us? Had they just gotten lucky?
I scrambled, my feet and hands digging into the damp forest floor. Yesterday’s rain still hadn’t completely dried.
Melisa’s voice came through our EarComs. It sounded like she was right next to me, even though she whispered. “Still wet from the rain. Go fifty to a hundred meters in, then dig in under dirt, leaves, trees—whatever. Hide your body heat.”
Despite the fear making my heart pound, I couldn’t stop my smile. That had been my move a few weeks before. I’d be sure to bug her about that later.
Of course, to be honest, it was originally Pol’s move, that night a few months ago in the slimy paper vat in the Dumps.
I heard Melisa to my right, the rest of my squad—or what I hoped was the rest of my squad—diving through the forest all around us. Behind us, the Ranjers called out, the soft whine of their propulsion boards cutting around the trees. It sounded like the Ranjers had just discovered what we had already learned; propulsion boards were great, but they were worse than useless when you were trying to get through thick forest fast. That’s why we’d headed for a dense spot.
I spoke fast, keeping my voice no louder than a whisper. “Get to the meeting place only after you lose them. No more than two in a group. Quick check-in.”
Voices rolled through my ear as each member of my squad spoke.
“Krista. I’m fine.”
“Zavier. No problems.”
“Lexi. I’m okay.”
“Pol. Twisted my ankle a bit. I’m okay.”
Relief flooded through me. I felt bad for worrying about Pol more than the others, but he had been involved from the start. He was an original Pusher. Plus, he was kind of small. “Pol, get help if you need it.”
“I’m fine.” For being so small, Pol was pretty fierce. I’d never seen him back down. Not once since that night in Hope Park. The night that had changed everything.
The night Bren had died.
“Melisa.” Her voice was dry, ready to give me a hard time. “Right in front of y—Nik, down!”
I dropped and rolled over my right shoulder, twisting to see what Melisa was talking about. A Ranjer, on foot instead of a propulsion board, had just appeared behind me. How did they move so silently? The Ranjer’s keeper was pointed at my chest. These things were bad. Real bullets, jagged electrodes, powerful concussion grenades—they were meant to kill or disable fast.
I scrabbled back, knowing I was too late. Cold fear tightened my gut.
I flinched at the sound of an explosion and waited for the pain to erupt in my chest.
Nothing came. I looked down. No fatal hole in my chest. I looked up. The Ranjer was on his—or her—back, upper body hidden by the shadow of pine trees. His legs, encased in flexible, earth-toned body armor, were all I could see.
“You’re welcome,” Melisa said from right next to me. I turned, met her gaze. She pointed with her weapon. “Armor’s weak spot’s on the side.”
“Bugging spam,” I said. My heart started beating again. How many times had she saved me now? Four? Five? It seemed like she was always finding a way to make me owe her.
“Let’s go,” Melisa said, yanking lightly on my shirt to get me moving.
“Thank you,” I whispered, following her fast through the trees. The sound of the keeper firing was sure to bring more Ranjers to the area. We ducked branches and leapt small bushes, Melisa l
eading the way.
I knew where she was going. The stream maybe thirty meters away had nice muddy shallows near a deeper area of the bank. Great place to hide body temperature.
I heard more gunshots and had to fight the urge to call for a status check, not wanting to make any unnecessary sounds. Melisa and I kept running, doing our best to weave and keep our breathing quiet. Our only chance was to go undetected. The Ranjers were much better armed and we only survived their attacks by escaping.
We stayed low. Melisa lifted a branch ahead of us. Sun glinted off the running stream, and the noise of it splashing over large rocks was louder than our footfalls. As I ducked under the branch she held for me, a tart, fresh smell hit me—the leaves she was grabbing.
Boring, gray New Frisko had never been like this—so full of smells and rain and . . . everything. The only time I missed our old life was when I couldn’t find enough leaves and soft pine needle branches to sleep on.
The crisp, cold water felt amazing on my feet as I waded into the stream, letting the current carry my steps. I angled toward a deep area where the water pooled because of a fallen tree. I’d found the spot when we came this way before. Melisa went the other way, crouch-running fast upstream. Reaching my destination, I slid my Enforser’s keeper deep into the shadows of a nearby bush. The cold water made me gasp as I lowered myself in, frigid water seeping, then rushing, under my clothes. Work fast, cold water.
I felt like my core temperature reached near freezing within seconds. Hiding my face behind some water plants, I stayed as low as I could and held still, breathing through my nose.
The Ranjer appeared maybe fifteen seconds and a thousand gallons of freezing water later. By that time, I was already having trouble not shivering enough to splash water everywhere.
Clenching my teeth, I mentally ordered my body to hold still. Please work. Please. I hadn’t heard anyone check in for over two minutes. But nobody had said anything or sounded an alert either. The Ranjer, who was taller than anybody I’d ever known, just stood there for a full minute. Then he waded into the stream. My heart froze as I watched the bottom half of his armor shift color from earthy browns and greens to icy blue. And then, from one moment to the next, I could no longer see his legs as the armor changed color.
Bug me. That was why they were so good at hiding. How had I not seen that before? I held my breath and carefully eased myself lower into the stream, picturing my body becoming part of the freezing mud at the bottom. This was both better and worse than the pulp bath in the Dumps at New Frisko. It was much colder, but there was no sliminess at all. I probably wouldn’t stink for days afterward, either. Water tried to get in my nose. I breathed through my nostrils, trying to keep it out. The last thing I needed now was to gag or cough.
Through the river grass, I watched the Ranjer scan upstream and downstream. He stood for what felt like another hour or two, then crossed the stream and paused on the bank for a moment. His icy blue legs contrasted for maybe a half second against the stream bank, then they changed again. As he walked into the woods, his legs turned deep brown and the top half of his body shifted to irregular greens and browns.
Stay out of sight. I didn’t dare contact my squad. My body screamed at me to roll out of the water and take a bath in fire. What did being warm feel like again?
Although every second in the stream felt like it was freezing me solid, I counted to a hundred before moving. Those Ranjers were tricky and determined. A couple months of being on the run from them had taught us to be careful.
Which was one of the reasons it burned so much that they caught sight of us during a patrol that I was leading.
Patrols. Raids. Searching for wild fruits and vegetables. Hunting. My whole life I’d wanted a life like this, free of the New Chapter. I had almost forgotten what protein paste tasted like. But now that we were out here, it was more than just my friends and me. It was everyone who’d survived New Frisko. And it seemed like hundreds of people all thought that I was the one who was supposed to run things. Like I was their new Prime Administrator.
I eased myself out of the stream, a violent shiver nearly cracking my body in two. My fingers and feet were numb when I stepped onto the stream bank, and I wished I had warm, dry clothes to change into.
Crouching low, I listened. Just the trickling stream and the quiet whispers that I always heard in the forest. Had to be wind in the trees. Each breath thawed out my ribcage a little more. Stream water dripped down my face and into my mouth.
Bugging spam. I tried telling myself I didn’t have to get back in the stream, but I knew I did in order to stay out of sight and move fast. Just go. I forced my feet back into the stream and, crouching low, let the current help ease me smoothly downstream.
I heard a keeper fire somewhere behind me. I clenched every muscle and ducked as an uncontrollable shiver hit me. No bullets struck me or whined past. Please just give up. We’d found that if we could stay out of sight, completely disappear without a trace, the Ranjers would canvas the area then move on. Give up and go somewhere else.
No more shouts sounded. Walking slowly and carefully, I continued downstream. Water divided at the middle of my calves, then flowed back together. I was taking too much of a chance. Maybe New Frisko wasn’t so bad. I lowered myself back into the water and lay forward. Somehow the water was warmer now. Or maybe I was getting hypothermia. Not that it mattered. A Ranjer bullet would kill me faster than this water would.
I let the stream carry me a few hundred meters, using my hands and feet to keep me elevated and moving. I needed to get far beyond the Ranjers’ search radius. Ten minutes of river crawling went by. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see ice chunks go by, too. My body was shaking almost constantly now from the cold.
This has to be far enough.
Listening carefully, I levered myself out of the frigid water. I heard nothing except for normal forest sounds, so I stepped onto the stream bank. It felt like I would shatter my frozen leg bones if I stepped too hard. I squeezed as much water out of my clothes as I could. Would I ever be warm again? A light breeze wafted through the trees, mocking me. No, wind. Not funny.
I forced myself to move and broke into a jarring jog, trying to warm my frozen joints. The others should be at the meeting point soon. I had to get there too, because they wouldn’t go back to the camp without me. They had to be safe. We had seen the Ranjers right before they had seen us. That had given us a few seconds, and usually that was all we needed. We had our system: if we saw Ranjers, everyone scattered and hid themselves and their body heat as fast as possible. We would wait about an hour, then meet at a predetermined spot and go back to our base together.
It usually worked because we’d learned the hard way. And now I needed to get there fast, because they would just be waiting for me. My squad wouldn’t even listen to Melisa if I wasn’t there. They’d spent too long under the Prime Administrator’s thumb, I figured.
It felt too much like the New Chapter, everyone waiting to be told what to do. Except now they were waiting for me to tell them. I didn’t want to be the Prime Administrator, whatever he had been. During those last seconds in Prime One, he’d said something about avatars. Melisa and I had spent hours walking through the countryside throwing guesses at each other about what that meant. Still had no idea.
Warmth slowly pushed the frigid blood through my veins as I picked up speed. The gray sky matched my mood after being nearly killed and frozen. Out here, in the woods, on my own or with Melisa and my friends—this was fun. This was the life I’d wanted. Of course, having Jan—and Bren—here would have been better. And getting shot at wasn’t so much fun.
I clambered over a downed tree, then skirted a rocky hill and pushed a damp branch out of my way. Heavy drops of water splattered me from the still-wet leaves. Thanks, tree. I needed to be wetter and colder. I checked the position of the sun and looked around, estimating how far I’d come. I was probably five minutes from the meeting place. I stayed low and scanned carefull
y as I hiked. No sign of Ranjers. Maybe they had given up. I resisted the urge to check in with my squad—I could walk carefully enough through the forest now that I didn’t make much sound, but human voices would be a total giveaway to Ranjers. They somehow seemed to hear better than most humans. Still no sign of them. We had to be safe now.
I began to recognize some of the hills and tree formations and picked up speed. Finally, I broke through the last screen of densely growing trees and caught sight of Lexi and Zavier. A second later, I saw Melisa and Pol. Krista was the hardest to spot. She was small, like Pol, and moved so quietly that you sometimes forgot she was there.
Zavier saw me and waved. All clear. They were all accounted for and nobody was bleeding from what I could see. I opened my mouth to call the signal to head back to camp, but a voice from the camp broke into my ear. It was loud, urgent, and terrified. Surprise and fear splashed hot through me. The faces of my squad members paled—they heard it too.
“Nik! Koner! Annie! Anyone out there. Come quick. Dyana, are you there? The Ranjers found us and they’re k—”
Chapter 2
Nobody waited for me to signal. We all broke into a run. I did the calculations in my head. We were two kilometers or so from camp. That meant if we ran full out, we were probably still at least ten minutes away. If the path didn’t wind and twist so much through the forest, we could have gone faster. And I wasn’t the only one wearing soaked clothes.
“Hurry. Don’t wait for anyone. Get them help!” I almost regretted talking, since it made catching my breath harder. No time to be slow. The voice had been Wil’s, one of my old classmates. His EarCom still hadn’t been upgraded to shield it from New Chapter monitoring. But somehow we’d heard him on the encrypted, new ones. He shouldn’t have had access to one at all. Only the leaders in the camp had them. If Wil had gotten one—did that mean the leader who’d had it had lost it?
We ran, quickly leaving the clearing and plunging back into the thick woods. The gray sky made the green treetops brighter but the shadows under the trees thicker. Which was a good thing, since we had all stopped trying to stay hidden.