The Astral Hacker (Cryptopunk Revolution Book 1) by Brian Terenna (best ebook reader .txt) 📗

unbearable pain but slips through the guard’s grip because it’s slick with blood.

I dart forward and hack my uninjured arm into Bosu’s wrist. His gun clatters to the ground.

I dive for it and scoop it up. I’ll end the captain for what he’s done.

“Fae,” says Americus. “Shoot me. I can’t give up Gabriel.”

If I shoot Bosu with only one bullet left, I’ll be out of ammo and easily recaptured. Americus will go through days of pain just to give up his friend and be killed anyway. And yet, how could I possibly shoot Americus?

“Please, Fae,” he pleads.

Feeling sick, I aim the gun at Americus’ head, and he nods. I force myself to pull the trigger. He drops to the ground.

I stare at his lifeless body, my mouth gaping. Poor Nav. I’m so sorry. Several guards grab me and rip the empty gun from my hands.

Bosu screams in rage. “Foolish girl. Break her other arm and beat some sense into her,” he says to a guard. “Screw the director. Just be careful not to kill her.”

My panic rises as I struggle to escape the guards.

The baton cracks into my other arm. Tearing agony floods my brain and overwhelms me. My legs buckle, and I collapse. Fists and kicks rain down until darkness washes over me.

  CHAPTER 21

∶ HAUNTING REGRET ∶

The pink and orange evening sky looks like a wall of fire coming to immolate me as a guard ties the last rope around my wrist. He gives me a sad look, then descends a ladder and joins a group of guards in the courtyard. I’m tied to a cross beam at the top of a twenty-foot pole, my arms splayed out, looking like I’m being crucified.

How fitting that I should end up this way. At least they didn’t force nails through my palms. My wounds are bandaged, and my bones are partially healed, thanks to an injection of Bioplex’s bone-knitting nanobots. It’s enough to hold them together, but the pain is intense.

My torment means nothing, though compared to Americus’ death. Although he was flawed, he had all but promised to take care of me as a father would. I failed him and Nav.

I growl and pull at my bonds before I know what I’m doing. A wave of pain wracks my body, and I nearly puke. It takes all my will not to pass out.

If I had my q-link, I’d hack the turrets and incinerate those guards. When they run into the buildings, I’d commandeer their drone and devastate them with missiles. I’d direct the drone to cut me free so I could steal one of their towering Obliterator suits. The few survivors would flee in terror. Instead of using the cannons or rockets, I’d chase my captors down in three steps and rip them limb from limb until they beg to die.

My muscles are tense, my teeth gritted at the thought, but I can do nothing. I don’t have my q-link. I slump back again.

Captain Bosu walks up to the base of my pole with a smug smile.

I stare laser beams through his head, wishing I had the power to burn him. Why is he keeping me alive? They must want something else.

I open my mouth to talk, tasting blood from when they beat me. “Why are you holding me here?”

“Because your scrawny self will make excellent bait for the few rats that escaped when we raided your hidey-hole,” he says. “We like to keep our kill rate at a hundred percent. Thanks for wearing that tracker, also, by the way. Makes it easy for us.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and my eyes widen in horror. The few that survived.

A maniac’s smile stretches on his face. “Your friends were lounging around as if it was a day at the park when we ambushed them. They screamed and cried like children. It looked like a bomb went off when we finished. Blood, organs, and body parts were everywhere.”

Bile rises in my throat at the image.

“And thanks to Americus’ information, our teams decimated your other cells as well.”

“The Loyalist Militia is just a memory,” says another man, who steps out of the shadows.

He’s athletic, his white hair neatly parted to the side. His posture is commanding, his eyes reptilian. He looks like the career politicians did before the revolution.

“Hello, Fae. I’m Director Tempton. You were clever to discover our operation. I underestimated you, but I won’t do it again.”

I bare my teeth and lower my eyebrows, an uncommon rage burning inside me. This trash is the leader of the NIA, the one who tortured Barbra with hallucinations. “Why did you do this?” I demand. “Why take over the government?”

He barks a laugh. “Straight to the point. You don’t know then?”

“For power?”

“So you’re an outsider. You can’t possibly appreciate what’s at stake then,” he says, adjusting his red tie.

What is he talking about? I shake my head incredulously. “What does that mean?”

He waves a hand at my question. “Your group was just one obstacle in the way, but still an obstacle. Impersonating your asset, Gerald, served two purposes. One was to find your base. The other was to separate Americus from the others. We didn’t want to risk him dying since we needed information. You stopped us from getting everything, but it doesn’t matter. It will only cause a delay.”

My brow furrows as I remember having to kill Americus. I hope Nav will forgive me…if she’s even still alive. Now, I’ve done two horrible things to her. At least Americus didn’t have to give up Gabriel.

A thought occurs to me. He said he wanted Americus alive, but wasn’t the drone swarm trying to kill us as we escaped with fake Gerald? No. I suppose not. They shot at