Push
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“Them being Kendra and Lien?” When he doesn’t saying anything more, I turn to Luka. “What about you? Are you worried about them?”
Luka shrugs. “Not worried. I actually think Lien’s interesting. But I’m not convinced I’d trust either of them with my life.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“INCOMING,” JACKSON SAYS, HIS POSTURE WATCHFUL, VIGILANT. Makes sense. He doesn’t know the new team members yet, and he’s not exactly the type to trust anyone sight unseen. Especially not after Tyrone expressed his concerns.
Kendra shows up in red sneakers, denim shorts, yellow T-shirt, and red suspenders. Her blond hair’s been colored a bright orange, straightened, and pulled into a one-sided ponytail. Lien’s wearing jeans and blue sneakers, a black T-shirt, a blue bowling shirt with short white sleeves and a white collar, a red ball cap, and green fingerless gloves. There’s a black mesh bag hanging from her belt loop with a red-and-white ball banded in black inside.
“Awesome costumes. Misty and Ash?” I ask Lien.
“Pokémon rules.” She offers one of her rare smiles.
“We’re cosplayers,” Kendra adds. “We made these for Anime Expo last year.”
“You went together?”
“Uh-huh.”
That surprises me. Not that it’s impossible for people to know each other from outside the game—Jackson and Luka and I do. But I’m a little surprised that I’m only just figuring this out now about Lien and Kendra, on our third mission together.
My gaze collides with Kendra’s. She’s watching me watching them. I can’t quite read her expression.
“Did you meet in the game? Or did you know each other before and both get pulled?” I ask at the same time Luka says, “Pikachu, I choose you,” and winks at Lien as he mimes an overhand throw.
“Pikachu? I’m all about Charizard,” Lien says with a sniff, choosing to ignore my questions.
“Makes sense. Fire-breathing lizard with a bad attitude?” Luka lifts his brows. “Suits you to a T.”
Lien sends him a dark look.
And Luka looks back at her like he’s . . . interested. Wow. Obtuse much? He and I have to have a little talk.
“We’re really gonna have a conversation about Pokémon?” Tyrone asks, sounding disgusted.
“We’re not having any conversation,” Jackson says. “This isn’t social time. We aren’t here to make friends.”
“Have you practiced that speech?” I ask. “Because it sounds a lot like the one you gave me the first time I got pulled.”
“Who the hell are you?” Lien asks. From the expressions on her and Kendra’s faces, this is about to get interesting.
In typical Jackson fashion, he’s about as friendly as a post. “Jackson Tate,” he says by way of introduction.
“Lien. That’s Kendra.” She’s barely civil as she says it.
“I know.”
Luka’s brows shoot up. I’ll tell him later about the Committee dropping info into Jackson’s head. I’ve had enough of the whole we-don’t-talk-about-the-game-outside-the-game. I’m more certain than ever that knowledge is power, and the more we know, the better we’ll be able to do this job.
“Gear up,” Jackson says.
I wince at the militant expression on Lien’s face. This is not going to go well.
Kendra crosses her arms over her chest and cocks a hip out to the side. “What makes you—”
Jackson’s right in front of her and I barely even saw him move. Lien tries to get between them, but Jackson sidesteps her easily.
“My team. My rules,” he clips out. “This is not a democracy. You follow my lead. Do what I say when I say it and I will get you both out of this alive.”
Lien glances at the knife strapped to Jackson’s thigh. Her expression’s mutinous, but it’s Kendra who answers back.
“Who died and made you king? Miki’s still alive, still in the game. That means she’s still leader. You’re the new guy. You don’t get to just waltz in here and take over with all your macho shit.” Then she stomps over and stands beside me, shoulder-to-shoulder.
Tyrone lets out a low whistle. “Mutiny.” He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back so his butt and the sole of one boot rest against the larger of the two boulders. “Let the show begin.”
Lien shoots him an ugly look. “I don’t think I like you,” she says to Jackson as she flanks my other side. I’m a little stunned by the show of solidarity. She and Kendra haven’t exactly been fan one and fan two up to this point.
“You don’t need to like me,” Jackson says. “You just need to take orders.”
Beside me, Lien tenses.
Was there ever a boy who was more adept at pushing people’s buttons?
“Actually,” I interject before this degrades any closer to nuclear meltdown, “Jackson’s the leader of our merry little band. I was just filling in for the last couple of missions. But he’s back. And trust me, he has way more experience than I do.”
“Yeah?” Lien gets too close, right in his face. Jackson doesn’t move a muscle. “How much experience?”
“Five years.”
Lien’s jaw drops and Kendra gasps. “I’ve never . . .” Lien snaps her mouth shut and shakes her head. “Five years? Longest I’ve ever heard anyone being in is two. Five years and you still haven’t hit the thousand? You must suck.”
Luka shrugs. “Not worried. I actually think Lien’s interesting. But I’m not convinced I’d trust either of them with my life.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“INCOMING,” JACKSON SAYS, HIS POSTURE WATCHFUL, VIGILANT. Makes sense. He doesn’t know the new team members yet, and he’s not exactly the type to trust anyone sight unseen. Especially not after Tyrone expressed his concerns.
Kendra shows up in red sneakers, denim shorts, yellow T-shirt, and red suspenders. Her blond hair’s been colored a bright orange, straightened, and pulled into a one-sided ponytail. Lien’s wearing jeans and blue sneakers, a black T-shirt, a blue bowling shirt with short white sleeves and a white collar, a red ball cap, and green fingerless gloves. There’s a black mesh bag hanging from her belt loop with a red-and-white ball banded in black inside.
“Awesome costumes. Misty and Ash?” I ask Lien.
“Pokémon rules.” She offers one of her rare smiles.
“We’re cosplayers,” Kendra adds. “We made these for Anime Expo last year.”
“You went together?”
“Uh-huh.”
That surprises me. Not that it’s impossible for people to know each other from outside the game—Jackson and Luka and I do. But I’m a little surprised that I’m only just figuring this out now about Lien and Kendra, on our third mission together.
My gaze collides with Kendra’s. She’s watching me watching them. I can’t quite read her expression.
“Did you meet in the game? Or did you know each other before and both get pulled?” I ask at the same time Luka says, “Pikachu, I choose you,” and winks at Lien as he mimes an overhand throw.
“Pikachu? I’m all about Charizard,” Lien says with a sniff, choosing to ignore my questions.
“Makes sense. Fire-breathing lizard with a bad attitude?” Luka lifts his brows. “Suits you to a T.”
Lien sends him a dark look.
And Luka looks back at her like he’s . . . interested. Wow. Obtuse much? He and I have to have a little talk.
“We’re really gonna have a conversation about Pokémon?” Tyrone asks, sounding disgusted.
“We’re not having any conversation,” Jackson says. “This isn’t social time. We aren’t here to make friends.”
“Have you practiced that speech?” I ask. “Because it sounds a lot like the one you gave me the first time I got pulled.”
“Who the hell are you?” Lien asks. From the expressions on her and Kendra’s faces, this is about to get interesting.
In typical Jackson fashion, he’s about as friendly as a post. “Jackson Tate,” he says by way of introduction.
“Lien. That’s Kendra.” She’s barely civil as she says it.
“I know.”
Luka’s brows shoot up. I’ll tell him later about the Committee dropping info into Jackson’s head. I’ve had enough of the whole we-don’t-talk-about-the-game-outside-the-game. I’m more certain than ever that knowledge is power, and the more we know, the better we’ll be able to do this job.
“Gear up,” Jackson says.
I wince at the militant expression on Lien’s face. This is not going to go well.
Kendra crosses her arms over her chest and cocks a hip out to the side. “What makes you—”
Jackson’s right in front of her and I barely even saw him move. Lien tries to get between them, but Jackson sidesteps her easily.
“My team. My rules,” he clips out. “This is not a democracy. You follow my lead. Do what I say when I say it and I will get you both out of this alive.”
Lien glances at the knife strapped to Jackson’s thigh. Her expression’s mutinous, but it’s Kendra who answers back.
“Who died and made you king? Miki’s still alive, still in the game. That means she’s still leader. You’re the new guy. You don’t get to just waltz in here and take over with all your macho shit.” Then she stomps over and stands beside me, shoulder-to-shoulder.
Tyrone lets out a low whistle. “Mutiny.” He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back so his butt and the sole of one boot rest against the larger of the two boulders. “Let the show begin.”
Lien shoots him an ugly look. “I don’t think I like you,” she says to Jackson as she flanks my other side. I’m a little stunned by the show of solidarity. She and Kendra haven’t exactly been fan one and fan two up to this point.
“You don’t need to like me,” Jackson says. “You just need to take orders.”
Beside me, Lien tenses.
Was there ever a boy who was more adept at pushing people’s buttons?
“Actually,” I interject before this degrades any closer to nuclear meltdown, “Jackson’s the leader of our merry little band. I was just filling in for the last couple of missions. But he’s back. And trust me, he has way more experience than I do.”
“Yeah?” Lien gets too close, right in his face. Jackson doesn’t move a muscle. “How much experience?”
“Five years.”
Lien’s jaw drops and Kendra gasps. “I’ve never . . .” Lien snaps her mouth shut and shakes her head. “Five years? Longest I’ve ever heard anyone being in is two. Five years and you still haven’t hit the thousand? You must suck.”
