Rebel Read Free Page B

approved.
    “Under-sixties with me!” a thin guy yelled, stepping from the line.
    I shook my head at Callum and held out my hand. We weren’t doing that. A corner of his mouth turned up as he walked toward me.
    Micah glanced down at Callum’s wrist. “One-twenty-two?” he asked, squinting.
    “Twenty-two,” Callum corrected.
    Micah pointed to the crowd gathering around the thin man. “Under-sixties with Jeff.”
    “Callum’s with me.” I held his hand tighter.
    Micah opened his mouth, but closed it with a hint of a smile. “Fine.” He turned to the reservation entrance, gesturing for us to follow him.
    We walked toward the line of bikes guarding the entrance and I glanced back to see the remaining Austin Reboots divided into two groups: Under-sixties on one side, everyone over sixty but under one twenty on the other.
    I faced front as we passed the bikes and heard Callum suck in a breath of air as the reservation within the fence came into view.
    There were more Reboots inside. This must have been the second wave, and it was maybe half the size of the first. About fifty or so stood in neat lines in front of a giant fire pit, guns in their hands but barrels lowered so they were facing the ground. A Reboot ran past us and started talking excitedly to one of the guys in front.
    The reservation was laid out in a circle, with thin dirt paths snaking in between brown-and-tan tents. There were very few permanent structures in the compound, but sturdy tepee-style tents lined each side of the paths. There were tons of them, at least a hundred, as far as I could see.
    To my right were several much larger rectangular tents. The material they’d used was dirty and worn in some places. Howlong had they been here? Why didn’t they build more permanent structures?
    To the left, near the fence, were two long, wooden buildings that looked like they might be a shower area. Pipes ran up the side of the building and the ground around it was wet. At least we didn’t have to bathe in the lake.
    I scanned the lines of Reboots. When I discovered rebels were helping Reboots get away from HARC, Leb told me that my trainer, Riley One-fifty-seven, had escaped to the reservation and wasn’t dead like I’d previously been told. But I didn’t see One-fifty-seven in the crowd.
    I stopped behind Micah as we approached a tent and he pulled back the flap, gesturing for us to enter. I ducked my head and stepped inside, followed by Callum and the five One-twenties from Austin.
    Weapons. Everywhere.
    I’d never seen so many weapons in my life. Guns of all sizes lined every wall, were stacked on the dozens of shelves around the tent. There were grenades and axes and knives and swords and things I didn’t even recognize. They had enough weapons to arm the entirety of Texas. There were a bunch of empty shelves, but I assumed those weapons had gone to the Reboots outside. Still, they had enough to give everyone a second weapon. Or a third.
    “Impressive, right?” Micah said with a grin.
    There was a bit of nervous laughter and I took another quickglance around. It was certainly impressive. And maybe a little comforting. A long wooden table ran down the middle of the tent, its legs disappearing into the dirt. A large bed stood in the back right corner, and I wondered if this was where Micah lived. There were two fire pits surrounded by rocks on either side of the tent, with smoke holes cut out of the fabric above them.
    “We don’t have time to do much of an introduction here,” Micah said. “HARC will be here soon, and they will likely bring the big guns this time.”
    “Whoop whoop!”
    I jumped at the sudden outburst and turned to see several reservation Reboots standing behind us. Their penchant for yelling random noises was going to take some getting used to.
    “I’m going to get you all weapons, do a very fast tour, and assign you a location.” He turned and started pulling guns off the shelf.
    “This time,” Callum said