Morning Star: Book III of the Red Rising Trilogy by Pierce Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

Empire.
    Musclesburning.Sidesplitting.
    “Here!”Holidayfinallycries.
    Wereachaservicedoorinasidehallandpushthroughintocolddaylight.Thewindswallowsme.
    Icyteethrippingthroughmyjumpsuitasthefourofusstumbleoutontoametalwalkwayalongthe sideoftheJackal’sfortress.Toourright,thestoneofthemountainsurrenderstothemodernmetal-and-glass edifice above. It’s a thousand-meter drop to our left. Snow swirls around the mountain’s face.Windhowls.Wepushforwardalongthewalkwaytillitcirclespartofthefortressandlinkswith apavedbridgethatextendsfromthemountaintoanabandonedlandingplatformlikeaskeletalarm holdingoutaconcretedinnerplatecoveredinsnow.
    “Fourminutes,”Holidayhollersasshehelpsmestruggleacrossthebridgetowardthelandingpad.
    Attheend,shedumpsmeontotheground.IsetVictradownbesideme.Ahardskinoficemakesthe concreteslickandsmokygray.Snowdriftsgatheraroundthewaist-highconcretewallthatfencesin thecircularlandingpadfromthethousand-meterdrop.
    “Goteightyinthelongmag,sixintherelic,”hecallstohissister.“ThenI’mout.”
    “Gottwelve,”shesays,tossingdownasmallcanister.Itpopsandgreensmokeswirlsintotheair.
    “Gottaholdthebridge.”
    “I’vegotsixmines.”
    “Plantthem.”
    Hesprintsbackdownthebridge.Attheendofitisasetofclosedblastdoors,muchlargerthanthe maintenancepathwetookfromtheside.Shiveringandsnowblind,IpullVictraclosetomeagainst thatwalltoescapethewind.Snowflakesgatheratoptheblackraingearshewears.Flutteringdown liketheashthatfellwhenCassius,Sevro,andIburnedMinerva’scitadelandstoletheircook.“We’ll befine,”Itellher.“We’llmakeit.”Ipeerovertheshortconcretewalltothecitybeneath.It’soddly peaceful.Allhersounds,allhertroublessilencedbytheEMP.Iwatchaflakeofsnowlargerthanthe restdriftonthewindandcometorestonmyknuckle.
    HowdidIgethere?Aboyoftheminesnowashiveringfallenwarlordstaringdownatadarkened city,hopingagainsteverythingthathecangohome.Iclosemyeyes,wishingIwaswithmyfriends, myfamily.
    “Three minutes,” Holiday says behind me. Her gloved hand touches my shoulder protectively as shelookstotheskyforourenemies.“Threeminutesandwe’reoutofhere.Justthreeminutes.”
    IwishIcouldbelieveher,butthesnowhasstoppedfalling.

    Isquint up past Holiday as an iridescent defensive shield ripples into place over the seven peaks of Attica,cuttingusofffromthecloudsandtheskybeyond.Theshieldgeneratormusthavebeenoutof theEMP’sblastrange.Nohelpwillcometousfrombeyondit.
    “Trigg!Getbackhere!”sheshoutsasheplantsthelastmineonthebridge.
    Asinglegunshotshattersthewintermorning.Echoingbrittleandcold.Morefollow. Crack.Crack.
    Crack. Snowkicksaroundhim.HesprintsbackasHolidayleanstocoverforhim,herriflerocking hershoulder.Straining,Ipushmyselfup.Myeyesacheastheytrytofocusinthesun’slight.Concrete explodes in front of me. Shards rip into my face. I duck down, shivering in fear. The Jackal’s men havefoundtheirbackupweapons.
    I peer out again. Through squinting lids, I see Trigg pinned down halfway to us, exchanging gunfire with a squad of Grays carrying gas-powered rifles. They pour out of the fortress’s blast doors,nowopenedattheoppositeendofthebridge.Twogodown.Twomorestepnearaproximity
    mineanddisappearinacloudofsmokeasTriggshootsitattheirfeet.Holidaypicksanotheroffjust asTriggstaggersbackintocover,hitwitharoundintheshoulder.Hejamsastimshotintohisthigh andpopsbackup.Abulletslapsintotheconcreteinfrontofme,kicksupintoHolidaytoimpacther ribsjustunderthearmpitofherbodyarmorwithameatythud.
    Shespinsdown.Bulletsforcemetocrouchbesideher.Concreterains.Shespitsbloodandthere’sa wet,phlegmyechoingtoherbreath.
    “It’sinmylung,”shegaspsasshefumbleswithastimshotfromherlegpouch.Werethecircuitsof herarmornotfried,medswouldinjectautomatically.Butshehastocrackopenthecaseandpulla dosemanually.Ihelp,pullingfreeoneofthemicro-syringesandinjectingherintheneck.Herpupils dilate and her breath slows as the narcotic drifts through her blood. Beside me, Victra’s eyes are