Edge of Defiance (Edge of Collapse, #5)

by Kyla Stone

Bishop gazed down at the bodies, his mouth moving but making no sound. He closed his eyes. Liam had no idea what he was doing.

It's called praying, Liam lol

I assure you; we didn’t know what they were doing or how they were getting the goods.”

Heck, I sure did. It was so obvious.

“What about the cop I met? Noah Sheridan?” Bishop hesitated a fraction of a second too long. “He was kept out of the loop.” On that count, Liam disagreed. Bishop held more faith in his friend than Liam did. He’d sniffed out Noah Sheridan’s multiple shortcomings the moment he met him.

Sigh. Yeah, character assassination on the rise.

“You’re the monsters!” the man with the bloody lip spat. “You’re the—” Sutter spun on his heel, raised his AK-47, and shot the man between the eyes. The gunshot blasted in the still air. The man dropped to the truck bed, already dead. “Hey!” Bishop shouted. Noah flinched. Kesler looked at the ground. Luther’s expression tightened. Reynoso looked sick. Truitt gaped, stunned. He shot a look at Noah as if expecting the chief of police to stop them, to do something. But Noah did nothing. He allowed it to happen, just as he’d allowed everything else.

Sighhhh. Snap out of it, Noah!

The second man gave a despondent howl. Sutter didn’t let him get another sound out. He shifted and shot him, too. He toppled sideways against the man next to him, who cowered and tried to shield himself behind the side of the truck. “You can’t do that!” Bishop yelled, his face purpling in outrage. “I just did,” Sutter said. “They killed my men. They die for it. Period.” “Hey now,” Hayes said, one hand on his holstered service pistol. “We have protocols. We don’t just—” “We do now.” Before anyone could react, Sutter fired two rounds into the chest of the third hostage, a young guy with a goatee and glasses who looked like he belonged in college. Not anymore.

Damn, this Sutter is ruthlessly evil.

Sutter’s hands twitched on his rifle. That was all the warning Liam needed. Without hesitating, he drew his pistol and aimed it at Sutter’s head.

That's right! Shoot him, Liam!

Bishop whirled on Noah, brows lowered, visibly upset. “You just let him kill three people. What’s wrong with you?”

Clearly he's being reduced to an unlikable character so that Hannah can end up with Liam without fuss. Kind of a shame to do him like this, though.

“This isn’t you, Noah,” Bishop said, pain in his voice as he made a last-ditch effort to reach his friend. But Noah was beyond reach. His hard gaze shifted to Liam. Something sparked there. Something dark and ugly. “You don’t know me. You don’t know anything.” Without another word, Noah Sheridan turned and walked away.

Sighhhh. Man, this sucks.

The attack was in retaliation; the militia had raided the towns first. Sutter and his men had done this, caused this. His stomach curdled in dread. He tasted bitter acid in the back of his throat as righteous anger filled him. He would not let this stand. Not on his watch, no way.

So do something about it then, Noah!

“I can be who you need me to be,” he said fervently, both to reassure her and to remind himself. “I’ll make this right. I promise.”

So do it!

He’d do anything to keep his son safe. Anything. Even making a deal with the devil.

This is so dang frustrating.

Noah longed to argue, to profess his innocence, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t say a thing.

Sigh. I mean, I get his incompetence. Milo is being used as blackmail. But ugh.

“You keep looking at me funny,” he said, his gaze straight ahead. “So? Maybe you’re funny-looking.” “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that’s rude?” “Actually, I was raised by wolves.” Liam smirked. “That makes a lot of sense.” “Thank you.”

Hehe cute moment

The light wasn’t a bulb, but a plastic two-liter pop bottle filled with water and a bit of bleach to keep algae from forming inside the bottle. Bishop had sawed a small hole in the roof, stuck the bottle halfway in the hole, and sealed the exposed edges. Sunlight entered through the top of the bottle, refracted in the water, and brightened the entire room. It was a clever contraption.

Saying we’re protecting them while keeping them from bettering the world? From finding their own way? It’s not helping them. We do it to make ourselves feel better. Not them.”

But a life worth living required risk. Otherwise, you were trapped inside a cage of your own making, like a dog too broken to notice that the crate door was wide open.

Yep

“There are two kinds of people. Those who rise to the occasion when tough times come, and those who don’t. Sometimes, people don’t come out the other side stronger. They give in to their fear and weakness and become something else, something worse.”

What you failed to do defined you as much as what you did.

Her heart whispered a truth she knew, but couldn’t yet say aloud.

I'm betting that truth is: "I'm in love with Liam."

“Pain is a part of living. Loss is a part of living. Risk—tempered with intelligence and wisdom—is a part of living. I won’t numb myself or shut myself off from the world for the illusion of safety. I will not trade myself for a promise that’s not even real. I will not.”

“There are things worth more than safety, Noah. There are ideals worth dying for.” “That’s not the way the world works! We don’t have the luxury of ideals. Not after the collapse. And what about when it’s our child? You would risk Milo’s death for your morals? Your beliefs?” “My beliefs are who I am,” Hannah said. “Nothing worth having in this life is ever easy—or free.” “So, you’re willing to die just to be ‘free’ of the militia? The people who keep us fed, warm, and alive?” “The people who rob and slaughter innocents, you mean.” Noah grimaced. “They’re doing what they have to do.”

Good gawd this man has completely lost his mind. It's pissing me off seeing him being reduced to this.

His face crumpled. His eyes went shiny and frantic. “Hannah. I love you. Don’t go.” “I’m leaving you, Noah.”

Well damn, Hannah. I get that he's screwing up badly, but you could have shown a bit more grace to the poor man. He did wait 5 years for you after all.

In that moment, the years fell away from his face. She saw him as she had when he was young and eager, full of sweet promises, his gaze ardent and needy. “I can’t do this without you!” “It’s not enough.” A frenzied desperation shone in his eyes. “I’m sorry! I’ll change! I’ll do whatever you want. Please! You want me to challenge Rosamond? I’ll do it! You want me to sacrifice myself and fight the militia? I’ll do it! Just tell me what to do!”

I mean, she kinda already did, Noah.

“This is because of Liam, isn’t it?” Noah asked, petulance mingling with his despair. Hannah looked up and met his gaze. Her eyes were dry. “Goodbye, Noah.”

Geeze woman, you know what you just did? You've done given Noah an excuse to go after Liam! This should have been far more tactful. I'm soooooo disappointed in her for this.

He wrenched the ring from his finger. Five years, and he’d never taken it off. Not to shower, not to repaint Milo’s bedroom, not for anything.

Damn. That's rough. Ugh. He's heartbroken and is gonna take it out on Liam now. Dammit.

“Liam Coleman.” A surge of jealous outrage blasted through him, hot as a furnace.

Ugh, well...I guess you don't need to go after Liam yourself when you've this harpy superintendent making the decision for you. This guy has become an absolute joke.

He said, “I’ll do it.”

Of course you will (or will at least try). Like a spineless, pushover coward. I HATE what's been done to this character, I swear.

“You brought in the militia to keep Fall Creek safe!” “Things change,” she said coldly. “You know that better than anyone.” He recoiled. “That wasn’t the deal.”

Don't act all shocked, Noah.

Noah stared at her, mouth agape, stunned.

Stop being shocked, you lunatic! This had been happening under your eyes the whole time!

Liam nodded and smiled, raising both hands in a conciliatory gesture to mess with the guy’s expectations. He jerked forward, put his foot behind the guy’s ankle and shoved him in the face with an open palm. The man fell backward, his head thwacking hard against the floor.

Dang, nice move

“Does Mom want me with her? Did she want me to come?” Noah went still. For a long moment, he had no clue what to say. Jealousy ate at him. A dark resentment slithered through his veins. He didn’t know how Milo would respond if he told the truth or who his son would choose. That made him even angrier. “No, son. She didn’t.”

Ugh. Despicable.

His son gave a sullen shrug. Noah had upset him.

Of course you did! You're being selfish a AND liar now. Giving him nothing to live for.

He had to get it together, or he’d fall apart, too.

Way too late, bud. You're already in pieces.

How could he do such a thing? It was inexplicable to her. And yet, it wasn’t. People did shocking things every day. If they were hateful enough, angry enough, desperate enough.

Or broken enough? You ripped this man's heart out of his chest. TWICE! The second time on purpose, when you KNEW he was already spiraling. Don't feign innocence here, Hannah. You knew exactly what you were doing, and are partially responsible.

They planned to get Milo stable, wait for most of the militia to turn in for the night, and then somehow smuggle everyone out of Winter Haven before dawn.

Uh. And hope Noah doesn't come looking for him? Have you all forgotten about him?

He had instructed Wiggins to tell Noah the truth—that Wiggins had left Milo sleeping in his room to tend to a few errands at his own house. The rest Noah could deduct on his own: the fire, the choking smoke, his son’s certain death.

Oh come on, man. That's not right. But ugh, I guess it's A type of solution to this entire mess? It's just too horrible for poor Noah. :(

She couldn’t make out his words—shouting, berating, then sobbing, a broken and haunted wail of grief, of unimaginable pain that mirrored her own. She closed her eyes, tears squeezing between her eyelashes. It was a terrible thing to tell a man his son was dead. Milo hovered on the brink, but he wasn’t gone yet. It was still a lie.

A horrible lie. Noah doesn't deserve this. Couldn't you just use this entire situation to snap him out of it? Show him what his foolishnesss costs him?

“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I know hearing Noah upstairs was difficult for you.” She shook her head without speaking. “I hated it, too, but it was necessary. We’ll tell Noah the truth as soon as it’s safe to do so. After Milo wakes up.” “I hope so.”

Me too, because that's just horrible.

“That’s what faith means. To believe in something you can’t see, to trust when the way is difficult. To believe that even on the darkest night, the sun will rise.”

Faith indeed.

“What is it?” Hannah asked. “What do you want?” Luther swallowed. “It was me, ma’am. I’m the one who set Chief Sheridan’s house on fire.”

Oh boy.

Before the collapse, corrupt and greedy politicians ruled us, taxed us to death, sucked the teat of America dry. No one could do anything about it. Not the little people, anyway. They taught us that voting could change things, fix things, but we’ve just been trading one charlatan for another, through every level of government.

I mean, yeah. He ain't lying.

“There’s more. Not that it matters now.” Luther’s gaze shifted from Liam to Hannah. Guilt shadowed his face. “Sutter said to check that the Sheridan boy’s pill stash was in the house, to make sure it burned with everything else.”

Ohhh!! Did he save it?!

“You destroyed a little kid’s critical medication!” Quinn’s voice rose in fury. “Medication that he would have died without!” “I was supposed to.” Luther returned his attention to Liam and his M4. “I am going to withdraw something from my chest rig with my left hand. It is not a weapon.”

Omg YES! If that doesn't earn their trust, nothing will.

Liam lunged from the shadows. The guard never saw him. With his left hand, he seized the man by the back of the head, grabbed a fistful of hair, and drove his skull downward. He brought the knife up and shoved it into the man’s chin and up through his brain. The guard flopped, instant dead weight.

Damn. Liam getting the job DONE.

She switched channels. “Noah. I need you.”

I swear, if this man goes to this woman AGAIN I am so done with him!

Had Noah picked up a weapon and fought against his own people? More likely, he was cowering in a corner somewhere with the superintendent. They were the ones responsible for all this carnage. Cowards, the both of them.

I mean, be fair to Noah. He thinks this son is dead.

“You should have died in that basement,” Rosamond snarled, her face a rictus of hatred. “He should’ve left you to rot!” “Stop!” Noah’s voice rang out. He stepped into the garage behind Quinn. “That’s enough!”

Ohhhh Noah. Can you finally do something right for once?

Noah strode into the middle of the garage, spun on his heels, and faced Quinn and Hannah. He spoke in a low, flat voice. “Put the weapons down.” Quinn blinked. “What?” Hannah’s expression tightened. “Noah. What are you doing?” “Put them down!” An ill feeling settled in Quinn’s belly like a block of ice. “It’s Rosamond, not us—” Noah pointed his Glock at Hannah. “I’m not asking again.”

Ugh this MAN!!!!!

“About time.” Rosamond hobbled forward, holding a hand toward Noah. “Sutter has betrayed us. We need a new plan. We need to—” “SHUT UP!” Noah swung around and pointed his pistol at Rosamond’s face. “Don’t you move!”

Finally a modicum of intelligence.

Quinn’s heart jackhammered against her ribs, like it was going to pound right out of her chest. Why didn’t Noah shoot her already? He had her right where they wanted her—all he had to do was squeeze the trigger. What was he waiting for?