rebel-heart by Rakhibul hasan (best books for 20 year olds TXT) 📕

She continued walking down the middle of the road. The destruction disappeared by mile marker five, only a few hundred meters from the turnoff to her condo community. She looked back at the lines of those who fled, overwhelmed again.

If not for Mr. Tim, this would’ve been her fate.

Inexplicable anger at the politician surged through her. He’d used her and saved her, not for her, but for his own purposes! And here she was: back where she’d been the night he called her away. Only this time, she’d lost everything: her belief in him, her Guardian.

She’d meet the same fate as those on the road to the bridge. There was no one to protect her now. All she had was herself.

Wiping away angry tears, Lana trotted to the entrance to her community then slowed to a walk when she became breathless too fast. She was weak and chilled. To her surprise, the condo community was as quiet as the night she left. Moonlight spilled over triangular roofs into grassy front yards. The parking lot was empty, and the only sign of unusual activity was the open gate.

The grisly scene leading to the condos likely dissuaded anyone from visiting, she rationalized. She went to her condo and walked up the stairs slowly. She paused to look around again, caught in the surreal sense that everything that happened the past few months hadn’t touched the condo community. She could almost pretend nothing occurred.

Pressing her thumb to her door, she realized there was light lining the windows of the condo beside hers. Lana’s hand dropped. The occupant of the neighboring apartment was Mrs. Watson, a retired fed. She was an older woman who may not have gotten the same communiqué that sent all the other feds in the community to their deaths trying to escape. Still, Lana wasn’t convinced she wanted to discover what lay behind the door after the travesty along the road. She hesitated until recalling Jack, the shepherd mix she’d left with Mrs. Watson.

Lana walked down her stairwell and up Mrs. Watson’s stairs. She knocked and inched away, not wanting to find her neighbor and dog dead. The door opened, and Lana gripped the railing to keep from fleeing.

“Lana?” Mrs. Watson’s features registered surprise. Her brow knitted together as her eyes took in Lana’s clothes.

“I’m sorry,” Lana said quickly. “I shouldn’t—” “You’re drenched. Come in.”

Mrs. Watson left the doorway. Lana hesitated before following. The apartment was almost as she’d last seen it: comfortable and crowded with oversized furniture and rugs coating every carpeted space. The only difference was the boards hammered over each of the windows, and the weapons sitting beside Mrs. Watson’s rocking chair and stacked on the couch. The woman was armed as well as Brady, Lana noted.

The occupant of the large chair in the corner of the living room launched towards her in a flurry of brown and black fur.

“Jack!” Lana exclaimed as the large animal knocked her back. “I can’t believe you’re okay!” “He’s more than fine. He took out one thug,” Mrs. Watson said proudly. “I didn’t think he had it in

him after how you baby him.”

Lana’s face grew warmer. Jack smelled clean and looked healthy with his long pink tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. He jumped on her again, planting his paws on her shoulders. Mrs. Watson disappeared down a darkened hallway, returning quickly.

“Jack, down! Put this on,” she said. In her outstretched hand was a robe. “Just place your … your uniform in the dryer. Jack! Down!”

Lana flushed. Mrs. Watson only offered a small smile, shoved the robe at her, and resumed her seat on the rocking chair. Lana retreated down the hall, trailed by the happy dog. The condo’s layout was the same as hers, and she found the bathroom where she expected. She changed, grateful to be out of the cold, wet clothing.

Her gaze settled on the lights, and she wondered how the elderly woman had electricity when no one else did. Lana drew a deep breath and placed the clothing in the round dryer in the linen closet before returning to the living room. The retired fed had cleared a spot for her on the couch. A steaming bowl of soup awaited her on the coffee table. Jack sat beside it, wagging his tail.

“Thank you, Mrs. Watson,” Lana said, overwhelmed by the kindness of her neighbor. She sat, patted Jack, and lifted the warm soup, sighing. “What are you still doing here?”

“I have everything I need here,” Mrs. Watson replied. “Solar generator, a year’s supply of food, weapons. No need to go elsewhere.”

“You might need more than a year of food,” Lana said before she could stop herself. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s that bad?” “Yes.”

“I’ll deal with it when it comes.”

Lana smiled faintly, grateful for the familiar woman’s gruff calm. “What’re you doing here? I thought your boss would’ve airlifted you out.” “He airlifted himself out.”

“Typical of the political elite,” Mrs. Watson said with a frown. “At least you didn’t get caught up in the rush to the bridge.”

“I was … working that night,” Lana managed.

“Lucky you. Doesn’t look like any of our neighbors made it.”

Lana lowered the soup, her appetite gone. “Is it safe for you here alone?”

“With enough weapons, yes. Most of the condos have been looted already. I blew apart the last thug that tried to get in here. They come back every couple of days,” Mrs. Watson said and indicated the living room window with one gnarled hand. “They threw in a grenade last time. It was a dud. I got as many boards up as I could.”

“Who are they?” Lana asked, eyes on the window.

“Everyone’s trying to survive. You do what you have to in that situation, even work with people you didn’t think you ever would,” Mrs. Watson said wisely.

Lana’s face grew warm again, and she silently thanked the retired fed for brushing off her grays so diplomatically.

“Can you fire a weapon?” “Poorly,” Lana admitted.

Mrs. Watson appeared thoughtful before she pushed herself to her feet and hobbled to the couch. She picked up a handgun-sized laser weapon, set it down, and picked up a smaller one.

“Take this one,” she said. “Keep it on you at all times.” “Are you sure?” Lana asked.

“I have enough. It was my daughter’s long ago. She couldn’t shoot a greencar if it was in front of her. Here’s how you load it.” Mrs. Watson demonstrated with a deftness at odds with her age. Lana watched then took it when Mrs. Watson held it out to her. “You came from the river?”

“Our helo went down and got tangled in the bridge’s support wires.”

“That would explain why you were wet. You’re lucky if you fell out of the sky into the river and lived to tell it.”

“I don’t feel lucky.”

“You’ve always struck me as a smart girl. I’m sure there’s a reason for your survival.”

Brady. The ache deep within her started again. Lana pushed him from her mind. It hurt too much to think of her Guardian. She couldn’t help feeling bad she’d never taken much time to get to know her neighbors better. She knew nothing of Mrs. Watson’s family. Mr. Tim never gave her the time to form friendships. Her condo was nothing like Mrs. Watson’s. Lana’s apartment held the basics: a place to sleep, a place for her clothes and enough furniture for Jack to sleep on.

“Where were you headed when you fell out of the sky?” Mrs. Watson asked.

“South, I think,” Lana said vaguely. As much as she liked Mrs. Watson, she feared trusting anyone ever again. “I was with some … ah, well, others who knew where we were going.”

“Rebels?”

“Yes. PMF members.”

An awkward silence fell. Lana lifted her soup again and sipped.

“Your condo was likely broken into,” Mrs. Watson said after the long pause. “You can stay here tonight. Probably safer. I put up boards on all the windows. No guarantee we’ll survive the night, but you probably understand that.”

“I’m beginning to,” Lana said. She set down the bowl, emotions bubbling again. “Mrs. Watson … I have nowhere else to go. After tonight. I mean, I know where I should go, but I …”

“You’re scared?” Mrs. Watson asked with a gentle smile. Lana nodded.

“You should be. These are scary times. I’ll give you as much ammo as you need. People overestimate how much food they need. As long as you have water, you only need to eat once a day.”

“I can access the emerops storage facility,” Lana added. “Walking across the country seems crazy.” “In my time, walking was the best way to evade being caught,” Mrs. Watson said. “I never told you I

was one of the original members of the special ops security teams, did I?” Lana shook her head.

“I was on their first team in the East -West War. The second team had the benefits of genetic modification. We didn’t. We had to rely on our wits as well as our bodies to get into and out of some really rough places. If you need to walk cross country then walk cross country. Maybe by the time you get there, this all will be over.”

“You’re a wise woman,” Lana whispered. “I’ve never been on my own before this. I don’t know if I have what it takes. I’m not like you.”

“Get some rest. The guest bedroom has been ready for visitors since my daughter died ten years ago. In the morning, I’ll feed you, pack you a bag, and send you on your way. Mission first, my dear.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Watson.” Lana smiled, amused at such hardcore words from a woman whose frail frame would struggle under the weight of a laser shotgun. Still, she heard the wisdom of hundreds of special ops missions in Mrs. Watson’s voice. Mrs. Watson was right; Lana needed to complete her mission, even if she wasn’t sure how to do it.

Without Brady. Her smile faded, pain filling her breast. If only she hadn’t been so angry at him when they parted. Or if they’d met at a different time. Or if the helo hadn’t gone down.

Near tears again, Lana retreated to the guest bedroom, sat on the bed, and withdrew the micro. She began to plot a route west. Jack stretched out on the floor beside the bed. Her gaze went to him in consideration, and she wondered if it was better to take or leave him.

The emerops facilities were placed strategically, with one never more than two days from the next closest depot. Of course, most of those travel days were by vehicle of some sort. She chewed her lip as

she watched the micro map multiple routes, gauging how much food and water she’d have to carry to survive. And ammo. She’d have to take as much as she could.

She cried herself into a restless sleep. Jack’s snoring and the Horsemen under her pillow kept her from sleeping well. She couldn’t stop thinking of Brady. She even caught herself touching her ear to keep from sliding her finger behind it to the subcutaneous net implant. Even if she had one more chance to talk to him, she wasn’t sure what she’d say. But she missed the sound of his voice, and her body yearned for his touch again.

When dawn outlined the boards hammered across the windows, she rose. Mrs. Watson was already up, and the scents of bacon and eggs reminded Lana how long she’d gone without real food. The elderly woman sat at the small kitchen table, her weapons within reach.

“I have these for you,” Mrs. Watson said and held up two bags. “Anti-sleepers and appetite suppressants.