Page 153 of Fangs
Wolf’s brow furrowed. “Because of the uprising.”
“Did our radio towers get damaged during the fight?” I asked, confused.
Wolf frowned. “Not the uprising here, the big one… in Angel City.”
I’d never been to Angel City, but the Reapers had loved asking if that’s where I came from, thanks to Juck’s nickname. I knew the Voiceless had a base there and that it had once been an enormous city in the Before. Since then, most of the ruins had been swallowed by the ocean. Rally once told me the best scavengers there would dive from a boat to swim through the underwater ghost city, looking for anything of value.
“What uprising?”
“Seriously?” Wolf looked strangely shocked, and I felt I was missing something.
“I haven’t heard anythin’ about an uprising,” I said, defensive.
“The people overthrew the Voiceless.”
My eyes widened.
“It wasn’t as bad as the Sin City Uprising, but it was still a bloodbath.”
I knew Sin City had another large Voiceless base, but that was about it. “What happened in Sin City?”
Wolf’s brow furrowed even further as he stared at me. “You’ve never heard of the Sin City Uprising?”
“Obviously not, or I wouldn’t be askin’,” I snapped.
“It was about ten years ago. The people formed a resistance and fought back against the Voiceless, but they were badly outgunned. The Voiceless slaughtered them all and anyone who was even the slightest bit related or connected to the resistance.”
I stared at him, processing that. I knew the Voiceless were spreading like a toxic weed, but I had no idea they were powerful enough to have uprisings against them.
“They killed everyone—the elderly, children, pregnant women. Thousands of people died, Ember,” Wolf added like he was disappointed in me.
“Well, I’m sorry the Reapers never told me,” I snapped.
“You didn’t even hear them talk about it?”
The only time the Reapers spoke to me was usually to call me names or taunt me or worse. I couldn’t count how many times someone told me in detail what disgusting things they wanted to do to me as I tried to bandage them up or stitch their wounds. I heard bits and pieces about other things happening, but usually it was shit about warlords or other gangs. After a few years, unless someone spoke directly to me, I retreated into myself and didn’t listen to anything happening around me. I used to look forward to the evening bonfires because that was when I would hear exciting tidbits about the world, but after Rally’s death, I did everything possible to get out of going to them. I hated how often I forgot he was gone and searched the faces for him, but worse was how Juck started acting at those bonfires. He’d always sat next to me and sometimes demanded I sit in his lap, but after Rally, it was like he wanted to flaunt me in front of the gang. His hands would be all over me, and the Reapers would stare. I’d never felt more like his whore than I did in those moments. But I wasn’t going to tell my brother any of that.
“No,” I muttered.
“What about New Seattle?” he crossed his arms over his chest.
I had no idea what he was talking about. I glanced at the others and found them watching with expressions similar to Wolf’s.
“The Minnie Riots? The Badland Ambush? New York?”
I felt more and more stupid. I’d never heard of any of these.
“How the fuck did you not know anything that was goin’ on around you? Phoenix fell just five years ago. Didn’t the Reapers stick around that area?” Wolf sounded more shocked than mean, but my hackles rose even more.
“Juck never said anythin’ about any of that.”
“So you have no idea the Voiceless have been tryin’ to take over?”
“No ‘tryin’ about it,” Lee muttered. “Theyaretakin’ over.”
I felt the blood leave my face. Juck had talked about the Voiceless a lot, but mostly, he went on and on about his take on their religion. He’d never said anything about battles or uprisings.
“It’s not her fault, Wolf.”
