The Forgotten Ones by Pittacus Lore Read Free Book Online Page B

shark’s.
    They don’t need to tell me the answer. I already know: it was Rex. It had to have been. While I was in the bathroom trying to call Malcolm, he was calling in the big guns. He was betraying me. And I hate him for that.
    I’m not scared. I’m not sad. I’m certainly not relieved anymore. I’m just angry.
    The vatborn’s laughter stops when the ground beneath them ripples upwards like it’s water, tossing them off their feet.
    The one on the left loses his grip on his blaster, and I dive for it, scoop it up and shoot him point-blank. Poof. I’m already sighting on the second one by the time he crumbles to ash. If Rex thinks I’m not a worthy opponent just because I’m not as big as him, or because I don’t believe that Setrákus Ra’s stupid fortune-cookie rules are words to live by, he needs to think again.
    I have to get out of here. There are too many people in too small a space, and if there’s going to be a big battle here there’s no telling how many innocent people could be hurt.
    Before anyone can stop me I make a beeline for the rear exit and slam right through it without stopping. A hundred heads turn to stare at me, but I don’t care.
    Outside, I find myself in a wide-open parking lot, empty except for a few untended sixteen-wheelers. I’m looking frantically for cover when I hear the distinctive, high-pitched whine of a Mog hand cannon powering upto fire from somewhere behind me. I hurl myself to the side, hitting the ground hard just as the energy blast sizzles past me. The pavement is smoking, a circular hole in the exact spot where I was just standing.
    Glancing up from the ground, I see a quartet of Mog soldiers tromping toward me, rifles and hand cannons aimed in my direction.
    Too bad for them. Now they’ve pissed me off.
    I feel my face clenching up in fury, and my body trembles as I send a quake through the ground. The two Mogs nearest to me go toppling like bowling pins. In the confusion, I dive behind one of the trucks, buying myself some time while my remaining pursuers split up to look for me.
    When I don’t hear anything for a minute or so, I peek out quickly from behind the cab and see another soldier coming toward me. He’s alone—too easy. He’s a goner before he even knows I’ve zapped him with my stolen blaster.
    Five down, one left—not counting Rex.
    Of course, that’s assuming that there aren’t more I don’t know about yet.
    I should be so lucky. I hear more footsteps approaching—and getting louder. They’re coming fast.
    I suppose it was too much to hope the High Command had only sent two scouts and four soldiers after me. But when I poke my head over the cab again andsee dozens of Mogs pouring through the parking lot from every possible direction, blasters and cannons at the ready, I have to say it seems like overkill. I guess I should be flattered, not just that they think I’m worth the trouble, but that whoever sent them here considers me such a formidable adversary.
    Ducking down, I peer below the truck and spot a Mog marching toward me, shooting at my shelter to keep me pinned down while he advances. Too bad he wasn’t watching the tires. I shoot him in the leg and, when he drops, put another blast in his head, finishing him off. Then I pull myself to my feet and scan the area. “Dust!” I scream. Where the hell is he?
    For that matter, where’s Rex? Not that I really want to know.
    More soldiers round the corner of the building, and my stomach clenches. They’re spreading out in front of me, so I won’t be able to take them all down at once. I crouch behind the truck again, but I know I won’t be able to hold out like this much longer.
    How is this at all worth it?
    I’ve never hated my own race more than I do right now. Mostly, though, I hate Rex. Not because he betrayed me. No. I hate him because, before he could betray me, he made me trust him.
    At least my anger’s good for something. I focus in on it and stomp a foot on the ground.