The Girl Who Dared to Think 7: The Girl Who Dared to Fight

Or at least, that was my best guess. And even if it wasn’t true, I wasn’t going to stand around waiting for them to break down the door. I had done what I set out to do and destroyed the Alice download pad, hopefully applying yet another set of brakes to Sage’s plan.

But there was one more thing I needed to do to really obliterate it, and we were finally getting there. I did an about face away from the door, swinging the gun around to my back using the shoulder strap, and headed to where Dylan was on one knee on the floor halfway down the aisle, fiddling with what I assumed was a keypad.

“It’s not taking my code,” she said in a frustrated voice. “I’m putting Lionel’s in now.”

I nodded. I appreciated her taking the time to try to limit our use of Lionel’s code, but the cat was out of the bag at this point, and speed was of the essence. The banging against the door continued, the sounds both creepily rhythmic and terrifyingly loud, and I wanted to be halfway down the shaft before they even got in.

The door slid open as soon as Dylan hit the enter key, and I quickly motioned for her to go first, afraid she might try to volunteer for a suicide mission again. I was relieved when she didn’t argue, and quickly looked at Rose, gesturing for her to go next.

“I should stay,” she said hesitantly, looking back at the door. “Try to talk to my sister, and figure out what—”

“What did I just tell Dylan?” I demanded, my irritation at having to explain to them why self-sacrifice, and stupid ideas about reasoning with a psychotic AI, were both unacceptable. “I’m done arguing about this. Get in the hole, now.”

Her eyes “blinked” at me, and then she slowly nodded, but I could tell from her posture that she wasn’t pleased. Still, she climbed in after Dylan, and I let her, keeping my mouth clamped closed. Maybe I was being too harsh on them both. I was beyond tired, and everything since this morning had been nonstop, so it would make sense if my patience was getting short.

But at the same time, I was angry about how easy it was for them to volunteer to stay behind. I didn’t want people willing to sacrifice their lives for me; I wanted them beside me, making smart moves that kept us all alive.

Because out of every goal that I was currently juggling, that was my biggest priority.

I counted to five to give Rose enough time to get a few rungs down, then leapt in after her, my friends emblazoned upon my mind as a final destination. It should’ve felt like coming home, but all I could feel as I closed the hatch and started my descent was dread.





26





When Dylan opened the hatch leading into the Citadel, it was like she had opened the door into a realm of chaos. I could hear the muddled voices of men and women shouting back and forth, punctuated by the unmistakable sounds of weapons fire.

Not just any weapons fire, either, but the zinging whir of lancers, one of the Class B weapons that were supposed to be on lockdown. Lancers were a projectile weapon that used a battery to superheat the ammunition, which loosely resembled a circular saw. My skin crawled even remembering what it was like to use one in our training classes, and I realized that someone—either the legacies or the Knights (or both)—had raided the armories.

Not only that, the fighting had evidently reached the topmost level of the Citadel. Which meant the legacies were way beyond level 20 now. It meant they were closing in on my friends.

“Dylan!” I shouted past Rose. “Report!”

“Lancer fire,” she confirmed grimly. There was a pause, and then she added, “If we come out here, we’ll be right in the crossfire.”

I cursed and looked back up the shaft. If we climbed up we could find a safer way in, but it would require finding a way around the sentinels up there, if they had broken in already. Either way was a gamble, but if there were two factions fighting down there, then it meant that one of them was on my side.

“Liana?” Dylan called, her voice rife with concern as another volley of weapons fire was exchanged. “What do we do?”

I blew out a deep breath and shook my head. I wasn’t sure I could gamble our lives in this way. Going up was the safer bet, but only if the sentinels weren’t waiting for us. If they were, we were dead. If we dropped into that hall and didn’t make it to the Knights on our side, then we were dead.

But at least if we went down, we’d be closer to the others. Going up was taking a step back, and I’d taken enough of those today.

“We go down,” I finally said. “Rose, we’re going to need to use you for some cover, girl. You okay with that?”

“Of course. Dylan, do you think you can move past me, or will you have to go first?”

There was a pause, and then Dylan’s heavy sigh carried over the sound of weapons fire below. “As much as I’d love to say that I could move past you, the answer is no. I’m a little too… ahem… busty for that.”

I winced, not pleased with the answer. I didn’t like the idea of Dylan dropping out first without cover; it would be too easy for her to catch a lancer bolt meant for someone else. “Ideas?” I asked, knowing that the fighting in the hall below was either going to end soon or get worse while we were up here trying to figure out how to get out.

Tell Dylan to fall down flat, Tony said. It improves her odds of avoiding any crossfire by 17 percent.

Improves them to what? I asked, wanting to know what I was consigning her to before I suggested anything.

Forty-three percent. If Rose drops out a second after her, it’ll be higher, but will also increase the odds of Rose accidently stepping on her, so…

“Right,” I muttered, and then cleared my throat. “Dylan, Tony suggests falling flat to the floor. Rose will drop out a second after you, so fall perfectly straight, and don’t roll in any direction.”

There was a pause, and I tried to look down past Rose to see what Dylan’s reaction was, but I couldn’t see anything beyond the sentinel’s bulky frame. “Yeah, all right,” Dylan said a second later, her voice shaky. “I can do that.”

“Hell yeah, you can,” I called to her, trying to bolster her spirits. “You’re Dylan Chase. The true winner of the Tourney, even if you didn’t become Champion.”

She chuckled. “Well, if I survive and you don’t, it’s not too late for me to change sides and try again.”

I smiled at that, glad that she had found it in herself to trade quip for quip before stepping into a life-threatening situation, and then quickly put the emotion aside. “You good?”

“I’m good,” she replied. “Going in three… two… one… Go!”

I tensed, my hands tightening on the rungs I was clinging to. I wasn’t sure what I expected—I couldn’t see anything from this position—but as the lancer fire continued, I was relieved not to hear Dylan scream or cry out in pain.

And then I was afraid because she hadn’t, and grew concerned that a bolt had caught her right in the head. I shivered, my stomach crawling, but as soon as Rose let go and fell, I was moving too, desperate to make sure I hadn’t gotten Dylan killed.

I took a look down before my boot hit the final rung, and saw Dylan’s legs—moving, thank Scipio—between Rose’s spread ones. I kicked off from the ladder and dropped down behind Rose, landing in a low crouch. Sparks erupted overhead as a loud zzt ting shot overhead and then ricocheted off Rose’s torso. The lancer bolt was crimson and flat, but I knew from experience that there was a small circular saw inside, superheated so that it could cut through microfiber and inflict maximum damage.

I dove to my belly as several more shots exploded into her, worried that one of the blades might bounce off Rose and right into Dylan or me, and began to crawl toward the wall, knowing it was the best place to be if we were going to use Rose as a shield. Dylan was already leading the way.