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

the source, keep spiraling outward till we find where it’s coming from.”

“That could take all day.” I grabbed the receiver, frustrated, and barked into the speaker. “It’s Myla. You know me. Call back if you’re—”

Lock snatched the receiver back. “Don’t do that. Anyone could hear you.” He glared back toward Echelon. “Anyone at all.”

“Then—” I dug in my pocket and pulled out my phone. “I’ll text Reyland. He can get them a message, maybe tell us where they are.”

“No.” Lock lunged for my phone, but this time I was faster. I powered it on, thumbed it open, and it rang in my hand.

“Don’t answer that!”

My heart leaped. “It’s from Ona’s phone.”

“You don’t know that’s her. Anyone could’ve—”

I shouldered Lock back and hit accept. Ona’s hologram sputtered, too faint to make out. I shoved my face at the lens, wanting her to see me.

“Ona? Ona? Are you there?”

Her image blinked and took form, and all the breath fled my lungs in a rush.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Lady Lazrad.” I lurched back, spitting, holding my phone away from me like it had grown fangs. “Where’s Ona? What—”

“Hang up.” Lock struck at my phone, batted it out of my hand. I lunged for it and we scuffled, on our knees in the dirt. I got my palm under his chin and sent him sprawling. He kicked sand at Lazrad’s hologram, and I snatched up my phone, shielding it with my body.

“I’m here. Don’t go.”

“It’s a trick,” groaned Lock. “She’ll just keep you talking till she can trace us.”

“I don’t care.” I shuffled away from him, phone clutched tight. “Lady Lazrad? We’re listening. Just tell us—”

“I know what you are.” Her voice lanced straight through me, an icicle to my guts. “You’ve helped yourself, somehow, to the Decemites’ gift. But that gift comes with responsibilities, which you’ve failed to—”

“Responsibilities!” Lock spat the word in a harsh peal of laughter. Lazrad ignored him, her faint smile unchanged. I knelt still and dumbstruck, gravel digging into my knees. Lazrad stared through me with her strange, fish-pale eyes.

“Responsibilities, yes. And you’ve failed to discharge any of those duties. Still, I’m not interested in vengeance, or in making an example of you. A Decemite’s worth is beyond measure, which means—well, you’ll see.” She stretched out her arms, as though she meant to embrace me. “Come home, and all will be forgiven. Make yourself useful, and you’ll see I can—”

“Ona.” I swallowed. “What have you done with my sister?”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Lazrad’s smile didn’t falter, but her tone turned cold. Colder. “I’ve invested a great deal in your sister,” she said. “She has value to me. As long as that’s true, I’ve no call to harm her. Your companion, on the other hand—”

“Where is she? Let me see her.”

“Your companion,” she repeated, and her gaze drifted to Lock. “Well, he’s leftovers, isn’t he? Used up and done.” Her smile widened, grotesque, and I scowled through my bafflement.

“Leftovers? What does that even—where’s Ona?”

“She’s just baiting you,” said Lock. “Hang up, and let’s—”

“A gentle retirement. That’s how Elli puts it. Rocked to sleep in a cradle of flowers. Quite poetic, don’t you think?” Lazrad’s eyes darted to Lock again. “That’s what you could have had, if you’d had the sense to stay put. It’s a shame to flip your kill switch, given your exemplary service. But a Decemite among the rebels... oh, no. Can’t have that.”

“Kill switch? What’s she talking about?” I rounded on Lock.

“She’s baiting you. I told you. There’s no kill switch—at least, none she can access from there.” He grabbed for my phone again, but I dodged him easily.

“Aren’t you getting tired?” Lazrad cocked her head. “It’s only been a few hours, but you should be feeling it in your joints. Don’t you ache? Don’t your lungs burn? Don’t you want to be sick?”

Lock snorted, but his eyes narrowed. I saw doubt there, and fear, then he blinked them away. “Come on. Hang up. We don’t have time for this.”

“A few hours from now, your lungs will lose their ability to convert sulfur dioxide to oxygen. You might think that’s plenty of time to make your way to a vent, but a few hours after that, you’ll see early signs of organ failure. Your vision will go, then your hearing, your touch. A few days from now—”

Lock snatched up a screwdriver and raked it across his palm. Blood welled up, thick and purplish, starved of oxygen. It streamed down his arm and didn’t stop, fat drops pattering at his feet as his skin failed to heal.

“Come home, and all this can stop. I’ll reactivate your nanobots, and—”

I hung up on her. Lock stared at me in naked horror.

“That update,” he croaked. “When we first got to Sky, me and Ona. She must’ve—”

“Never mind that. We’ve got to go back.”

“Back?” Lock grabbed hold of me, hot blood smearing my shoulder. “We can’t. You can’t. Whatever happens—if I’m dying, if I pass out—swear you won’t drag me back. Swear you’ll stay out of Echelon, as far as you can get.”

“You’ll die.”

“And so will you, if you go back. She’ll kill your bots too, or just shoot you in the head. That’s all she wants, to take out the threat. In her eyes, we’re the enemy. You’ve got to see that.”

I pushed Lock off. Backed away. It hurt deep inside, like she’d kill-switched me too, guts churning with acid, my head throbbing red. “I can’t watch you die.”

“I won’t make you.” Lock took my hands again, and his were ice-cold. “I’ll go somewhere—”

“No.” I closed my eyes and saw Derrick, the moon shining in his eyes. I saw Lock in his place, just the shell of him, his dead hand in mine and no one there at all. My knees buckled and he caught me, and I bunched my fist in his shirt. My head buzzed with anger, a fury so bright I felt my teeth hum with it. It rose louder and louder, filled my ears and my skull—and it wasn’t