The Defectors (Defectors Trilogy) by Tarah Benner Read Free Book Online

make me feel any less disconnected?
    I ate the noodles without really tasting them and drank two whole bottles of water. I stopped myself after the second one, feeling my stomach protest from the sudden ingestion of so much food and liquids. At least on a bellyful of warm food, sleep seemed more manageable. I sprawled out on the couch I’d napped on so many rainy afternoons, trying not to think about how it would be the last time.  
    Lying there staring up at a crack from water damage my father had meant to repair, I tried to remember the last time I spoke to both of them. It had been almost two months ago, right after I found out she was turning.
    It had been my birthday, and my mom said she couldn’t wait to see me. I was supposed to make a trip to see them again soon, before she became too dangerous. Her voice wasn’t the same — she was weak from the virus — but it still sounded excited, hopeful even. She didn’t sound as if the virus had infected her brain yet; she sounded like my mom. Every so often, I’d hear my dad interject in the background in a low voice, and she’d hold her hand over the mouthpiece to relay what I said in a whisper she thought I couldn’t hear.
    “Yes, she already bought her books . . . I don’t know, honey. I’ll ask her about Greyson’s family . . .”  
    None of us thought the government would be too quick to round up those who remained undocumented. But two weeks after the deadline for mandatory identification passed, they began apprehending people via rover data from the highway. Then my parents had to deactivate their smartlenses, and it became impossible to reach them by call or video chat. They used to have a landline phone that would work, but paying the bills was difficult without a CID. I suspected my parents were only able to keep the electricity on because my dad had friends who worked for the city.
    It made me sad to think that the last promise I had made to my mother had fallen through. I only hoped my last words to her had been “I love you.”  
    Draping an arm over my eyes to wipe the fresh tears, I realized how heavy and sore my entire body felt. I let myself sink into that ugly, comfy couch and fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

CHAPTER FIVE

    I awoke the next morning before sunrise with a strange terror of not knowing where I was. The last time I slept all night on this couch, I was ten years old with a very high fever.  
    I was home, but at first I didn’t remember that my parents were dead. The memory of a kitchen that smelled like fresh coffee in the morning was so strong it hurt, and I half expected to see my dad frying bacon on the stove. My eyes filled with tears when the memory of the previous day came rushing back. To wake up thereafter everything that had happened was too much.
    Looking around the house where I grew up without my parents in it made me feel like a stranger in another person’s home. I needed to leave.  
    The PMC had confiscated my parents’ car, and any friends or neighbors I would trust enough to ask for transportation probably evacuated and migrated north months ago. I would have to go on foot.
    My pack was sitting ready by the front door as it had in my own apartment for the last several weeks, and I hefted it in my hands to determine if I should lighten the load. The main disadvantage to running the trails was that it severely limited the amount of food I could carry. I fished out the can of fruit and a pack of noodles I had scrounged from the pantry and set them on the coffee table. I couldn’t afford to take anything that wasn’t essential.
    I sat down at the kitchen table and ate the fruit with some stale crackers for breakfast, savoring the sweet syrup coating every piece. I knew I would not taste anything like this again for months.
    While I ate, I pulled out the map Greyson and I had made and smoothed it out on the table. The distance from there to Sector X was staggering. I estimated it would take me more than a