Free Ruins of the Fall (The Remants Trilogy #2) by Nicholas Erik

where there’s still an idea in her head that, maybe, her father was right all along. The plan may have changed—since I’m no longer a tradable asset for anything worthwhile to the Remnants—but the sentiment remains. If the first plan was a good one, then his new plan, to execute me as a message to everyone else, must also be sound.
    So I think a little demonstration is in order. Symbolism is clearly big amongst the Remnants, and this will make a clear statement. About what I truly think about the direction their faction is headed.
    She moves slightly, and I almost bump into her waist. Instead, I pinch her shoulder.
    “Ow, what the hell.”
    “I’m trying to bring you back to reality, here,” I say. Got it. The HoloBand, in its little protective case, is in her back pocket. Nothing to it. Easy trick. My fingers pass by the scabbard again, and I can’t resist. I push slightly on her skin with my visible hand, my fingers tracing her shoulder. “Right here.”
    “Don’t do this, Luke,” she says, her breath getting softer. “I can’t. I have a plan.”
    “You still haven’t said much about that.” I reach my head closer, towards her lips. At the last moment, she pushes me away. I quickly palm the HoloBand as I stumble backwards. A loud expletive masks the clatter of the knife.
    I fall on the blade to cover it up, pretending to be hurt.
    “You could’ve just said you weren’t interested.” I hold up my arm, where the knife nicked me. Blood runs down. It looks a lot worse than it is. But, then again, that was the plan. I knew she wouldn’t kiss me. Her heart is beating a million different ways, and she doesn’t even like me. That’s a luxury the plains don’t afford.
    “I need to go,” she says, her face flushed. She pauses before she reaches the door. “I was going to get Atlas to testify on your behalf. That was the plan.”
    “Then you should’ve brought him along for the ride.”
    “I didn’t think of it until now,” she says, and then rushes out of the room.
    Which is when I realize that I’ve been wrong about one thing.
    The Remnants do hope, they do dream, they do imagine, they do plan—just like anyone else.
    They’re just not very good at it.
    I wipe the blood off my arm and test the tip of the knife. I’m not sure where the blade will land, but I am sure of one thing.
    I’m not accepting any verdicts without a damn fight.

11 | Regicide
    Fighting may be difficult. I’m still dehydrated, mentally disoriented, and generally feel like I’m battling the worst flu of my life. It’s hard to formulate any sort of plan. Who do I even want to kill? Where do I hide my ill-gotten new tools?
    A knock at the door startles me. I hurry to hide the knife. The best place I can settle on is my waistband. The cool metal presses against my bare skin. Any sudden movement, and I’m going to open up a nice cut around my groin. Not the best positioning, but it’s the best I can do on short notice. I slip the HoloBand into my pocket just as Mirko enters.
    “Man, you look like shit.”
    I look down at the dried blood caking my arm and say, my throat ragged, “I don’t know what happened.”
    He shrugs. “They said you were gonna be crazy after being hooked up to that machine. Scratching and clawing at yourself like a dog.”
    “You come to watch the freak show?”
    He grimaces. “It’s been three hours. The council made its decision.”
    Mirko grabs me by the shoulder. He doesn’t bother to recuff me, since I’m too weak to offer even token resistance. It takes all my energy to simply walk as we travel through the winding streets. Green eyes peek through the metallic shutters and junk.
    “Move,” Mirko says.
    “I’m trying,” I say.
    “Don’t try,” he says. “Move.”
    It’s like I forgot how to walk. My mind is scattered in a million directions, my senses unreliable. Great job, Matt, inventing something that destroys basic motor movements. A stunning achievement. Some minutes