Into Light (Shadow and Light Book 2) Read online

  Into Light

  Shadow and Light, Book 2

  T.D. Shields

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  Enjoy this book? You can make a big difference

  About the Author

  Other awesome Young Adult books by Aelurus Publishing

  For all my new Aelurus friends and colleagues, especially Jeff for giving me this chance and Rebecca for making this book so much better.

  1

  “So, what do you think? Want to overthrow the government with me?” My tone was mocking as I repeated my words from a few months ago to the empty street.

  I was on brush-clearing detail for today’s patrol and the task suited my bad-tempered mood. I swung the machete in fierce, angry strokes, hacking at the vicious weeds encroaching on the path and trying to distract myself from my frustration.

  Overthrow the government. In the heat of the moment, I hadn’t really considered the logistics of instigating a rebellion. I’d just kind of pictured myself returning to Goodland to triumphantly denounce Cruz and his co-conspirators, which would somehow lead to their downfall. But, of course, if it was that easy, I could have done it months ago.

  I muttered as I worked, venting my frustrations to Roomie’s ears. The scarily-intelligent cat was my patrol partner and he padded over to rub his face affectionately against my knee as he listened. I gave him a good scratch between the ears, and he leaned against me in pleasure, his rumbling purr shaking my entire body.

  As hard as it was to believe, the big tomcat I’d befriended when I first arrived in Denver must have been little more than a kitten at the time. He had grown rapidly in the last year. His head was now level with my knees and he weighed in at almost forty pounds.

  Roomie rarely rode in my backpack these days, though he could still fit. Barely. He was much more likely to pad along beside me instead. The big cat accompanied me almost everywhere, especially on patrol. His razor-sharp claws and teeth were effective weapons that had defended me from danger more than a few times. Even the lizard-dogs known as Shadows thought twice before picking a fight with Roomie.

  Now he moved away and took up a position in the center of the pathway where he could keep watch for any threats while I slashed at the thorny plants. Roomie didn’t look at me, but I could tell by his perked ears that he was still listening to my complaints.

  “So, fine,” I told him. “Once I stopped to think about it, I knew better than to go running right back to Goodland to incite a rebellion. I mean, I left in the first place because I knew I was dead if Cruz got his hands on me. So I let Lucas and Sharra convince me to slow down and create a plan instead of just taking off impulsively and getting myself killed. But when I agreed to that, I thought we were talking about a few weeks to gather information and develop a strategy, not months of waiting! It has been five months, Roomie. Five. Months. I am out of patience.”

  Finished with the right side of the path, I turned to the opposite side and started chopping at the creeping greenery there. I’d last cleared this section only last month and had assumed it would be the last time this season, since fall was rapidly coming on. The October temperatures had cooled considerably but it didn’t seem to slow the growth of the plants. It only added to my irritation to be repeating the work I’d done so recently.

  I grunted with each swing of the machete, the force of the blows pushing little bursts of air from my lungs. The effort was purely physical, though, leaving my mind free to continue obsessing over Cruz.

  After I’d first escaped, I’d managed to push Cruz’s actions to the back of my mind for most of a year. Without a plan to bring him down, I’d just forced myself not to think about it. The emotional devastation of my father’s death and my beloved “uncle’s” betrayal had been too much, and I’d dealt with it by forcing myself not to think about my life in Goodland. Survival and making a place for myself in my new home had been my priorities.

  Learning the whole truth about the conspiracy to assassinate my father and take over the Presidency was like ripping the scab from an old wound. The pain was bright and fresh again. At the same time, that renewed grief had reawakened my sense of responsibility. Suddenly, I was no longer content to just be away from the situation. It was not enough to survive and build a new life for myself. I was the First Lady, and I had obligations to the people of this country whether they knew I was alive or not.

  But while I was now burning to take action, the people around me were much more cautious. Too cautious. Gathering intelligence was crucial, but Lucas was so focused on finding more data that he wasn’t willing to even discuss plans yet. I was itching to at least get a start on strategies for bringing Cruz down. I had ideas already, of course, but I needed a sounding board to help me refine things. Lucas was still in full-on research mode and not ready to be that sounding board and Sharra just kept encouraging me to be patient until Lucas and his team had all the info.

  The information-gathering never seemed to end, though. They already had gigs and gigs of data from before my father’s assassination, but once I had identified all the members of the conspiracy, the hackers had new targets to research. They had been zealously seeking any tidbit of information available that might help us take down the new government, but it was slow going.

  As an expert in computer science himself, Cruz knew how to hide, manipulate, and track data. Citizens’ right to privacy had all but disappeared at this point because the government was now monitoring every byte that passed through communication and data channels. Even sliding in to look for information, as Lucas and his team were doing, had become traceable and dangerous, which meant that every step took longer as they worked to hide their presence and remain undiscovered.

  I chafed at the pace, but I couldn’t argue with the results. Thanks to their data-mining, we had been able to constantly monitor the actions of the new government. In particular, I was obsessed with Cruz’s every move. All the members of the conspiracy had betrayed our country, but Cruz’s treachery was deepest.

  He had been a treasured friend and family member. I’d thought we shared the same ideals. To watch him now taking the lead in gutting the constitution for his own benefit was excruciating. Though I was determined to bring down all the members of the conspiracy, I was most focused on Cruz.

  I gritted my teeth and moved to the tree at the corner, slicing at the vines drooping from overhanging branches. The swoosh of the blade cutting through the air and the thump of vines falling to the ground punctuated my words as I reminded Roomie of one wrongdoing after another.

  “Cha! All the time I was growing up with Cruz, he was always right there with Daddy and me talking about the importance of democracy and our role as guardians of the people … And now look at him!

  “While we’ve been messing aro
und over here, Cruz has had free reign, and he’s destroying everything my father rebuilt after the war. He suspended national elections so the country could ‘deal with our grief’ after the assassinations, but there’s certainly no sign of rescheduling them. It just means he can stay President as long as he wants.”

  Swoosh. Thud.

  “The few Congress members and Supreme Court justices who dare to stand up to him tend to mysteriously disappear, and everyone else lets him do what he wants. So, he basically has complete control over all three branches of government.”

  Swoosh. Thud.

  “He declared martial law and suspended the right to be presumed innocent until proven guilty. He can arrest and hold anyone he wants for as long as he wants and never even has to show cause.”

  Swoosh. Thud.

  “And martial law also means that he can set limits on the right to assemble and put his national curfew in place to keep people in their homes instead of out working against him. With mech soldiers always roaming the streets as enforcers, people don’t dare disobey that one.”

  Swoosh. Thud.

  “Ooh, and making my backstabbing former nanny and assistant the new Secretary of Public Information … That’s a good one. Louisa lives to control everyone around her, so I’m sure she’s loving the power to censor every newsholo and e-mag in the country and only tell people what she thinks they should know.”

  Swoosh. Swoosh. Thud. Thud. Thud.

  Roomie had heard all this many times before. Now he yowled and flattened his ears, which I chose to take as agreement with my frustration rather than as a protest of my repetitive grumbling.

  I’d volunteered for this patrol in hope I could drain my irritation through physical exertion, but my anger was only flaming brighter as I catalogued each offense. If I had enough breath for all this complaining, I wasn’t working hard enough. I turned to look for a more challenging section to clear and caught a glint of red eyes in the bushes.

  I froze, trying to find that elusive gleam again. What creature was watching me? The leaves swayed as the animal moved and I relaxed a little. It wasn’t large enough to be a Shadow, so Roomie and I could handle it on our own.

  Roomie slipped silently past me to the far end of the path. Now the animal was caught between us. I firmed my grip on the machete and nodded at Roomie. He dropped his chin and let loose with an ear-splitting yowl.

  Startled into movement by the sound, a rabbit burst onto the path. It wasn’t one of the fluffy bunnies people kept as pets in Goodland, though. This was one of the mutated Denver versions we liked to call Vampire Rabbits.

  They weren’t really vampiric, of course, but the bright red eyes, sharp teeth, and aggressive tendency to attack anything that moved had earned them the nickname. The Vampire Rabbits were also about twice the size of an average bunny and moved fast, so they were no joke. They were good eating, though, so it was worth taking it down instead of chasing it away. As a side benefit, a good chase and fight would help me work out some of this angry energy.

  With a wild grin, I jumped forward. “Die, monster bunny!” I shouted, swinging at it with the machete. I missed by millimeters as the rabbit leapt at me. I skipped backward to avoid the teeth hurtling toward me and sliced at the rabbit again. I missed as it jumped at me a second time, but this time I caught it with a foot and booted it back toward Roomie.

  The big cat was sitting back on his haunches, content to let me handle the situation. The rabbit payed him no attention whatsoever. It was completely focused on me and sprang at me again, teeth bared. A final swing of the machete took off the head and it flopped to the path in two pieces.

  More rustling in the bushes was my only warning before an explosion of movement left me surrounded by at least a dozen Vampire Rabbits. That was enough to warrant Roomie’s attention and he jumped into the fray. A swipe of his claws left his first rabbit lying limp. He abandoned it to pounce on another, clamping his mouth on the rabbit’s head and giving a violent shake to break the animal’s neck.

  I used the machete to swipe at the rabbits rushing me. It was not an ideal weapon for this fight because I had to let the animals get too close for comfort. I slashed at the rabbits with my sharp blade while kicking at those in reach of my feet. The kicks didn’t stop the vicious rabbits, but did give me a little breathing space before the rabbit could get up and come at me again. I was panting with effort, but the frenetic pace and punishing physical fight finally helped me still my busy thoughts.

  When the rabbits finally all lay dead on the path around us, I was drained. I leaned over, my hands on my knees for support, as I gasped for breath. I was exhausted and dripping with sweat but more at peace than I’d been in days. The strenuous exercise had burned through some of the anger and adrenaline that had made me such unpleasant company for the last few days. After a shower and a change of clothes, I’d be fit to be around my friends again.

  “Good fight, Roomie,” I wheezed. He trilled in satisfaction and let his tongue loll out of his mouth as he caught his own breath.

  I had a game bag tucked into my belt for just such an occasion, so I gathered all the bits of rabbit and stuffed them into the bag to take back to the kitchens. As I cleared up, I felt like I could think clearly for the first time in days.

  I focused on martialing my most logical arguments for moving past the research stage of this plot against Cruz and getting into planning and action. The impassioned, emotional appeals I had been offering had been ineffective, so it was time to change tactics. If I hadn’t been so caught up in my own emotions I would have realized this sooner. It was time to take the negotiation skills I had learned as First Lady and put them to use with my pack.

  A slight smile touched my lips. They had never known me in full-on political mode. Though the pack had learned that I was Poppy Walker, people here tended to see me as just one of the guards, not as the First Lady. Most of the time that’s exactly the way I wanted it, but today I needed to take back some of the power I used to wield.

  If there was one thing I’d learned in my years in politics, it was that acting as if you were in charge was often enough to convince people that you actually were in charge. I was done waiting, and I was going to make sure that the pack leaders finally saw it my way.

  “Come on, Roomie. Let’s go cause some trouble.”

  2

  Back in my room, I picked through my closet with a critical eye as I considered my newfound resolve to use logic and persuasion to get the cooperation I needed. As a pack guard, I generally wore black leathers as protection against weather, vegetation, and wild animals. And since I spent most of my time on patrol, I really didn’t have much of anything except that black leather. My few other options were mostly tees and soft pants suitable for sleeping or working out. I felt a brief pang of longing for the extensive wardrobe I’d had back in Goodland and wished for one of my sleek, intimidating power suits.

  Since I didn’t have any of those, I did my best with the available options, choosing a slim-fitting, blazer-styled jacket. Though it was made of the ubiquitous black leather, the styling was very business-like. It wasn’t what quite the effect I’d hoped for, but I would let my attitude make up the difference and carry myself as the authoritative politician I used to be.

  As a final touch, I spiked my hair high to add another inch of height. Not exactly political-chic, but it was my style now. It was more appropriate for my current circumstances than the sophisticated chignons I used to wear.

  I leaned into the mirror to touch up the smoky-eye look I’d learned from my best friend, Sharra. Yes, even though I currently lived in the ruins of an abandoned city, I still wore makeup. Living rough was no reason to give up my standards. Thank goodness for an ample supply of cosmetics scavenged from various stores throughout the city.

  The blue-ink design that covered the right side of my face was freshly touched up and gleaming against my pale skin. Like the spiky hair, the facial ink had become my new style and I kept it even though I was no
longer hiding my identity from the pack.

  A shadow briefly blocked the light of the afternoon sun streaming into the room. Roomie had disappeared earlier when I headed to the locker rooms for a shower, but now he slipped inside through the window that I always left ajar for him. His fur was clean of dirt and rabbit blood, so I assumed he’d stopped by a stream for his own clean-up. Honestly, for all I knew he might have used the showers in the locker area, too. You could never tell what Roomie might get up to.

  I never tried to stop his roaming. I wasn’t presumptuous enough to claim the independent cat as my pet, but as his friend, I made sure that he could always rejoin me when he was done with his wandering.

  “I was going for powerful and slightly intimidating with this look,” I told him. “What do you think?”

  Many of the pack members teased me about my tendency to talk to Roomie like I would to a human, but I knew that he was much smarter than an average cat. It was only polite to acknowledge that intelligence by keeping him informed.

  Roomie looked me over from head to toe before giving a chirruping meow that I recognized as a sound of approval. I gave him another scratch between the ears in thanks and invited him to come with me to the meeting. He yawned and jumped onto the bed, indicating that he would rather stay here and nap. I gave him one last pat and headed out, already rehearsing my arguments in my head. I was just reaching for the doorknob when someone banged loudly on the other side of my door, making me jump in surprise.

  “Poppy,” Sharra called. “The meeting’s starting early. Like, right now. We have a situation.”

  My heart started pounding immediately. Sharra had a habit of downplaying problems in order to avoid panicking people, and I knew that what she called a situation was probably something most people would refer to as a catastrophe. I jerked open the door.

  “What’s happening?” I demanded.

  I caught only a glimpse of the bright blue and pink of Sharra’s explosive ponytail whipping around the corner as she called back, “Head to the conference room on four. I’ll be up as soon as I grab Mac.”