The Last Uprising (Defectors Trilogy) Read Online Free Page A

purplish shadows under his eyes and his raw, wind-stung cheeks, I knew he was kept busy on lookout duty from sundown to sunrise.  
    The other part of me felt distrustful. If he was really my friend, why wouldn’t he untie me? I did think of trying to escape, but as I turned the idea over in my mind, I realized it would mean certain death. I had nowhere else to go.
    During those first few days, Amory tried to maintain a strained, one-sided conversation. He told me stories from the farm, and I knew he was hoping to jog my memory. But the things he brought up were mostly foreign to me. I could only see snapshots of memories, and even those might have been figments of my imagination.
    I couldn’t remember much about Amory and Logan and Roman. Other than their names and a vague familiarity, I didn’t know them at all.  
    The memories of my life before the Collapse were there — accessible if someone referenced an event or a person from my past — but they were oddly dulled and fuzzy if I just tried to think back.  
    Amory asked me questions about my childhood — about Greyson — but I was silent, obstinately refusing his attempts to connect. When he talked, I just sat there, trying to mask my fear and confusion.
    At first, he acted as though it didn’t bother him, though I knew it did. For a while, he could keep his voice bright and optimistic.
    But as the days went by, I could tell my silence was beginning to wear on him. Amory was slipping away.  
    He talked less, ate quickly, and left. He seemed to grow older and deflate a little each day I ignored him.  
    Whether I was breaking him or he was breaking me, I couldn’t tell, and it didn’t matter. It was equally horrible for both of us.

    After ten days, I had grown restless and impatient. Amory, Roman, and the others showed no signs of letting me go, and it was clear they didn’t plan to kill me. They would probably keep me there forever if I let them.  
    I realized the only way they would untie me and let me roam around free was if they truly believed I had begun to remember them. That meant I had to earn their trust.  
    Amory seemed the most likely candidate to believe I’d changed. He was desperate for me to come over to their side — an easy mark.And, as much as I hated to admit it, I was curious about Amory and why he was the only one who seemed so invested in me returning to my former self. There was something odd about the way his eyes settled on me when he thought I wasn’t looking — a certain tenderness in his gaze and a deep pain I did not understand.
    By the time the noon bell rang out across the camp, my decision was made. I would be amicable and receptive when he tried to talk to me. I would open up a little, act as though I cared, maybe even smile. It was sick, but my escape depended on it.
    I sat waiting against the sack of flour that had become my backrest, running through all the things I could possibly say to make him trust me. I had to be careful not to come on too strong too soon, because no matter how much Amory wanted me to remember, he was too smart and too distrustful to be fooled that easily.
    Plus, after my long silent treatment, I wasn’t even sure I remembered how to maintain a normal conversation.
    As I ran through all the possible details I could conjure up from my broken memories, something strange happened. I found myself smiling — actually smiling.
    It wasn’t the crazy smile of satisfaction that my plan could work; I was smiling at the snapshots of memories I could recall with Logan and a dark-haired boy with devilish blue eyes cooking over a stove.
    I swallowed, confused about why these snippets of memories made me feel . . . happy. These people weren’t my friends . I knew I shouldn’t trust them, yet these memories were good ones.
    I waited.
    Amory didn’t come.
    Thinking he may have gotten held up hunting with the others, I slumped back and listened to the sounds of guards pacing out in the woods.  
    I waited