The Guard Page 16
“Don’t know why I even bother,” the king said a little too loudly. He handed a paper to someone and gave them a quiet order. “Erase Maxon’s marks on this; they’re distracting.”
While the words filled my ears, America’s gaze took all of my sight. She watched me carefully. I could tell she was worried about the bandages on my head, the limp in my steps. I gave her a wink, hoping to calm her nerves. I wasn’t sure if I could make it through a whole day on rounds and then switch with someone to guard her door tonight, but if that was my only way to—
“Rebels! Run!”
I turned my head toward the palace doors, sure someone was confused.
“What?” Markson called.
“Rebels! Inside the palace!” Lodge yelled. “They’re coming!”
I watched the queen bolt upright and run around the side of the palace, heading for a secret entrance under the protection of her maids.
The king snatched up his papers. If I was him, I’d be more worried about my neck than any lost information, no matter what those documents said.
America was still in her chair, paralyzed. I took a step to go get her, but Maxon jumped in front of me, shoving Kriss into my arms.
“Run!” he ordered. I hesitated, thinking of America. “Run!”
I did what I had to and bolted as Kriss called out to Maxon over and over again. A split second later, I heard gunshots and saw a swarm of people flood out of the palace, almost an equal mix of soldiers and rebels.
“Tanner!” I yelled, stopping him as he headed toward the fray. I shoved Kriss in his arms. “Follow the queen.”
He obeyed without question, and I turned to get Mer.
“America! No! Come back!” Maxon screamed. I followed his panicked gaze and saw America running frantically toward the forest, rebels fast on her heels.
No.
The staccato rhythm of the guards firing accentuated America’s pace, hurried and perilous. The rebels were nearly on top of her, bags stuffed. They seemed younger and fitter than the group last night, and I wondered if these were their children, trying to finish what their parents started.
I pulled out my gun and took my stance. I had my eye trained on the back of a rebel’s head, and I fired three quick shots. They all missed when the guy zigzagged and ran behind a tree.
Maxon took a few desperate steps in the direction of the forest, but his father grabbed him before he got very far.
“Stand down!” Maxon yelled, pushing out of his father’s grasp. “You’ll hit her. Cease fire!”
Though America wasn’t a member of the royal family, I doubted anyone would be upset if we killed these rebels without questioning. I ran into the field, took my stance again, and shot twice. Nothing.
Maxon’s hands gripped my collar. “I said stand down!”
While I was an inch or two taller than he was, and I generally thought him to be a coward, the rage in his eyes at that moment demanded respect.
“Forgive me, sir.”
He released me with a push, turning around and running his hand through his hair. I’d never seen him pace like that. It reminded me of his father when he was on the verge of exploding.
Everything he was showing on the outside, I felt on the inside. One of his Elite was gone; the only girl I’d ever loved was missing. I didn’t know if she would be able to outrun the rebels or find a place to hide. My heart was racing with fear and falling apart in hopelessness at the same time.
I’d promised May I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. I’d failed.
I looked behind me, not sure what I was expecting to see. The girls and staff had all made it to safety. No one remained but the prince, the king, and a dozen or so guards.
Maxon finally looked up at us, and his expression reminded me of a caged animal. “Get her. Get her now!” he screamed.
I debated just running into the forest, wanting to reach America before anyone else did. But how would I find her?
Markson stepped forward. “Come on, boys. Let’s get organized.” We followed him into the field.
My steps were sluggish and I tried to steady myself. I needed to be sharp today. We’re going to find her, I promised myself. She’s tougher than anyone knows.
“Maxon, go to your mother,” I heard the king order.
“You can’t be serious. How am I supposed to sit in some safe room while America’s missing? She could be dead.” I turned back to see Maxon double over and heave, nearly throwing up over the thought.
King Clarkson pulled him upright, gripping him firmly at the shoulders and shaking him. “Get it together. We need you safe. Go. Now.”
Maxon balled his fists, slightly bending his elbows, and for a split second, I genuinely thought he was about to punch his father.
Maybe it wasn’t my place, but I felt certain the king could demolish Maxon if he had the inclination. I didn’t want the guy to die.
After a few charged breaths, Maxon wrenched himself out of his father’s grasp and stomped into the palace.
I whipped my head around, hoping the king wouldn’t realize someone had noticed that interaction. I was wondering more and more about the king’s dissatisfaction with his son, but after that, I couldn’t help but think things went much deeper than Maxon scribbling the wrong notes on his paperwork.
Why would someone so concerned with his son’s safety be so . . . aggressive toward him?
I caught up to the other officers just as Markson started talking. “Are any of you familiar with this forest?”
We all stood silent.
“It’s very large, and branches into a wide spread of trees just a few feet in, as you can see. The palace walls go back about four hundred feet before curving in to meet, but the wall toward the back of the forest has been in disrepair. It wouldn’t be too hard for the rebels to get over a damaged portion, especially considering how easily they got over the strongest sections at the front.”
Well, perfect.
“We’re going to spread out in a line and walk slowly. Look for footprints, dropped goods, bent branches, anything that could be a clue to where they’ve taken her. If it gets too dark, we’ll come back for flashlights and fresh men.”
He eyed us all. “I do not want to come back empty-handed. Either with the lady alive or with her body, we are not leaving the king or prince without answers tonight, do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” I yelled, and the others joined.
“Good. Spread out.”
We had only moved a few yards when Markson held out a hand, stopping me.