Beyond Surrender (Beyond #9) by Kit Rocha

Author:Kit Rocha [Rocha, Kit]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Amazon: B01M16X725
Publisher: Kit Rocha
Published: 2016-12-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Being back in Sector Five was disconcerting.

It had never really felt like home to Ryder, no more than Four or even Eight had. It wasn't that any of those places were flawed, it was just his nature. For him, the concept of home was nebulous, unformed. Something he could almost see, not quite reach. Never touch.

At least, not until this fucking war was over.

Still, something about Five was different. Here, he reigned. When people spoke to him, they did so quietly, and they kept their eyes lowered—though he could never figure out whether they did so out of respect or fear. In Four, no one treated him with deference. He could have been anyone, just another guy—

Just another O'Kane.

He snorted at the thought and lifted the binoculars once again. He had an excellent vantage point from the top of the tallest tower on the western side of Five, but the view into Sector Six was dark, still. "I don't see anything. They must be taking their light discipline seriously."

"They are." Hector was grim as he handed over a pair of night-vision goggles in exchange for the binoculars.

The moment Ryder lifted the lenses to his eyes, his blood chilled. Under the shield of darkness, troops were moving into position for an attack, creeping across the burned, fallow plains of Six like locusts. "Jesus Christ."

Dallas grunted next to him. "I don't like the sound of that."

"You shouldn't." Ryder offered him the goggles and stepped back.

After only a moment staring through them, Dallas began to curse. "Jas is bringing the militia over, but even with your men, this is gonna be a close fight."

"At least we won't be bored." Ryder turned to Hector. "You've initiated emergency shutdown?"

Hector nodded.

"Good. Hold off on the final command as long as you can. I want them on top of us before they realize we saw them coming." He glanced back toward Six, but all he saw was inky darkness, and it made his skin crawl. "I'll brief the men."

He headed back down the stairs, keeping one hand on the flashlight on his belt as Dallas's boots thumped behind him. "Your guys are used to brawls and gang shootouts. Are they ready for a large-scale battle?"

"I don't know," Dallas replied. "Closest we've had in years was that shit with the bootleggers your old boss set up. Before that? The fight that won me Four. But that wasn't war."

At least he wasn't telling himself they were all hardened soldiers who could handle anything. Hell, Ryder had been groomed for this war, trained since childhood, and even he had dealt almost entirely in the theoretical, in strategy.

"You have Bren and Cruz," he said finally. "And Jasper seems like he gets it."

"I think he does." Dallas made an amused noise. "I saw that in him from the start, you know. He was this scruffy teenager on a shit-ass illegal farm, underfed and still growing out of his clothes. He looked ridiculous. But men twice his age listened when he spoke. I knew men would follow him, if I could convince him to lead.

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