The Lofties (The Echelon Book 2) by Ramona Finn (ebook reader play store .TXT) 📗

“Maybe she’ll believe it, coming from me,” Lock offered.

I shook my head. “Let me break it to her.” I braced myself, circling round back. Ona was like Gran’s teapot, the one I’d helped decorate. We’d painted roses. Ona had painted her whole world, every detail the way she wanted it. She’d painted her insistent belief over her own eyes and lacquered it down tight. You’d have to smash her to break through that, hurt her, leave her shattered.

“Hey.” She snapped her phone to her wrist. “Where’ve you been?”

“Lazrad Corp.” I perched on the end of her deckchair, feeling it bow under my weight. “We saw something, me and Lock.”

“What, in the gift shop?”

“In the loading bay, by the warehouse.”

Her brow furrowed. “I don’t get it. You... why are you in your pajamas?” She jolted upright. “No. I don’t want to know. Whatever you’ve been up to, whatever weird kind of—”

“They burned Jack’s stuff.”

Ona surged to her feet. “I said I don’t want to—”

“They threw everything in the incinerator, everything he had.”

Ona ran, and I chased her, the words tumbling from my lips. “Everything but his bracelet, and they stole that for their kids. He’s dead, Ona. They were—”

She darted inside and slammed the door in my face. I jammed my foot in, then my shoulder, and squeezed with all my might. Ona let go and fled. She shot across the atrium, past the birds and up the stairs.

“They took bets on Lock,” I called. “If he’d live out the year, or he’d—”

“Ten months,” he said. “They gave me ten months. The big ones go down fast.”

Ona screamed out loud. She bolted into her room and I heard the door lock. “Go away. Both of you. It’s not true, and even if it is...”

I pressed my head to her door, waiting. I could hear her on the other side, not moving, just breathing, quick, harsh gasps. Lock came up behind me and set his hand on my shoulder. Downstairs, the birds were restless, filling the silence with their chatter.

“Ona?”

She stopped breathing. Snuffled. Started breathing again.

“Talk to me. Please.”

“He must’ve done something,” she said. “Or not done something. He never tried. Never—”

“You know that’s not true.” Lock’s grip tightened on my shoulder. “Jack was sick. You saw him, and Sonia before him. You saw—”

“I saw them sitting around the house, never bothering with anything.”

I let out a shuddering breath. “Why don’t you ask Elli? Ask her where they went.”

“They moved on. She can’t tell me. Not till I move on too.” Ona seemed to gain confidence, her voice rising in triumph. “Why would they give us all this, if we’re just going to die? They could’ve blown our heads off the second we stepped off the elevator. That would’ve been quicker, and a lot less expensive.”

“Just like that, huh? You wouldn’t have put up a fight?” I laughed without meaning to, a quick, messy snort. “It’s nothing to them—this house, this life. It’s not like we live here long. But as long as we do, we’ll go quietly, no fuss, all caught up in our new lives. Think about it. Just think—”

“Oh, I’ve thought plenty.” It was Ona’s turn to laugh. “Do you hear yourself? You’ve got an answer for everything, but all you’re doing—all you’re really doing—you’re making trouble, like always, and you always get caught.”

“Ona...” I closed my eyes, stymied. “Come on. Open the door.”

“You don’t get it. You never will.” Her back thumped against the door, and I heard her slide down it. Her voice had gone sharp, almost spiteful. “You think they threw me a party when A-team brought me home?”

“What?”

“They took me to holding. To that room by the cells. They chained me like a criminal and left me for hours. Then Prium came, and he—”

I heard Lock hiss behind me, a tense little sound. My nails dug crescents into my palms.

“What did he do?”

“He said he had you already. That D-team brought you back. He said I had value, but you were just Dirt.” Her voice rose, furious, cracking with rage. “He said you were next, after he got through with me, and he never said what that meant, but the way he kept filing his nails—he was gonna torture you. He was going to hurt you, and I saved you, and it’s like you don’t even care. You only think of—”

“Ona!”

“—yourself, and you—”

“Stop it. I’m sorry.”

“You’re selfish, is what you are.” She thumped her fist on the door. “I saved you. I saved all of us, but all you care about’s those Outsiders.”

I caught myself on the doorframe, breathing hard. I felt gutted, scraped raw inside. “You didn’t save them,” I whispered, unsure Ona would hear me. “They’ve got families too, and you hung them out to dry.”

“Like you did to my family, running out the way you did. Siding with those traitors, picking them over us.”

The breath caught in my throat. “Your family?”

“You heard me.”

I sank to my knees. “You don’t mean that.”

“I’ve never meant anything more.” Ona got up, and I heard her walk away. She turned the shower on full blast and slammed her bathroom door. I curled up where I knelt, burying my face in my arms. Lock sat down next to me and gathered me to his chest.

“She didn’t mean that,” he said. “I promise she didn’t.”

“Why won’t she believe me?” The words came out jagged, all broken into sobs. “I’m doing this for her. For her cure. I’d never hurt her on purpose, so why—”

Lock rocked me in his arms, and at first, he didn’t say anything. He hummed low in his chest, sort of a pondering sound. “I didn’t want to believe, either,” he said at last. He worked his fingers through my hair, teasing out the tangles. “You’re asking her to face her own death. To accept she’ll never grow old, never live out her dreams. That’s a lot to put on anyone, much less a kid.”

“You’re a kid. Well,