Regret Read Online Free Page B

things he’d done in the Goodgrounds and the oceanic region to the west.
    Two more notebooks simply contained lists: clothing, food, tech. I wasn’t sure what they were for. Another book, written in a different hand, made no sense whatsoever, with strange numbers and names of cities I had never heard of. But that book gave names too, and I felt certain I’d need toknow those people. Most likely, they were Resistance contacts around the Association. I wondered who had given the notebook to Jag, and briefly thought of his long-dead father.
    I found a blank page at the end of the notebook. I ripped it out and copied the names and the cities they were paired with.
    And that was it. Jag didn’t have a notebook that said, “When I’m gone, do this. Then this.”
    I hated him for it, just for a moment. A long moment. I stared at the writing on the page, desperate for a line that would tell me how and where and when to rescue him. But I had no way of knowing where he was, or if he was even still alive. I swallowed that fear back.
    He’d wanted me to run the Resistance if he didn’t come back. Not rescue him. So I would run his stinkin’ Resistance—if only I knew how.
    I flipped a page, realizing that the Resistance was a living, breathing, changing identity. Jag likely didn’t know what those left behind without him would do or how they might react.
    I was on my own. With the meeting looming in the next few hours, I spent the remainder of the night puzzling over what I might say or do.
    As I entered Jag’s house behind my parents, I still didn’t know.
    I began by clearing my throat. The fifty people convened in the living room seemed to inhale as one, and every eye swung to me. I caught Sloan Washburn’s eye, and upon seeing her rainbow hair and supportive smile, some of the nervous energy drained out of my body. No matter what Sloan had or hadn’t done with Jag, she was still my best friend.
    “I need someone to act as second,” I said. Jag would like that. Everything about the Resistance was done with an organization, with a hierarchy in mind. Sure, things sometimes got chaotic, but that’s because people were involved, not because the system was flawed.
    Half a dozen teenagers raised their hands, some at the prompting of their parents. Jag had established teens as the leaders years ago. He’d taken over Resistance efforts at thirteen. His reasoning was sound, and would be followed.
    Adults had paying jobs and families to support. They were also monitored more closely by the authorities, and though the Badlands didn’t have Thinkers broadcasting rules and messages each night, we did have security details and laws. The adults in the Resistance played supporting roles by using their employment to aid the missions, infiltratingnetworks, and guiding their children.
    The infiltration team was all teens. Teens had more freedom to hang out with different groups of people in different locations. They didn’t carry as much social responsibility. They could act rebellious and it would be zinged up as simply trying to “find themselves.”
    I scanned the pool of volunteers and found both Sloan’s and Lex’s hands up. “Lex,” I said, without mulling it over. As the only remaining member of the infiltration team, he had knowledge and experience Sloan didn’t. I tossed a sympathetic look toward Sloan, who waved me away as if to say You made the right choice.
    The room exhaled, and one of the younger girls giggled. I almost allowed myself to smile, but I caught the emotion and buried it. I wished Jag were there to see me. I could shut down. I could lead without displaying emotion.
    “Our directive for the next several weeks is to visit the cities on this list.” I smoothed the pocket-wrinkles from the list I’d copied from the notebook. “I need runners who are willing to fly day and night and meet with people we don’t know.”
    I expected parents to protectively put their arms around their kids and break eye