‘I guess there’s only one way to find out,’ he said.

Shannon smiled, and rested her head against him once more. They gazed at the Memorial Wall together, their eyes fixed on the lowest name.

McCormick had passed the baton, and Ewan would pick it up and run. And with the Underdogs ripped apart by grief, the sooner he started the better.

The more he thought about it, the more Ewan realised he was up to the challenge. He had spent the first sixteen years of his life around people who had forced an identity on him, who had made him believe he was nothing more than a nasty kid with special needs and a boatload of personal issues. But now, with him at the helm of the Underdogs, it would be his turn to tell the world who he was.

It was time for Ewan West to take centre stage. For him to speak, for the world to listen, and for his friends to win the war.

1

The

will return.

For the latest updates about further books
in the Underdogs series, visit
the author’s website at chrisbonnello.com
or the series’ Facebook page at
facebook.com/Underdogsnovel.

Read on for an extract of the third book in the series – Underdogs: Acceleration …

2

Chapter 1

Oliver Roth had felt uneasy when Grant called him to Floor B. It was an unusual feeling. The great Nicholas Grant had never made him uneasy before.

He used his keycard against the door to the stairwell between Floors C and B, and took a deep breath after the door had closed behind him. The rebels’ strike that morning had been their first since the death of the AME shield a month earlier, and they had all escaped New London before Roth could even make it downstairs to meet them. Grant would not be happy, but still: calling a meeting about it was a surprising response.

Roth scanned his keycard again at the entrance to Floor B and was met on the other side by Nathaniel Pearce, who had clearly been waiting.

What the hell is Grant’s smarmy smart-arse Chief Scientist doing here?

‘Ah, Oliver,’ Pearce said with his trademark grin. ‘We’re going to Iain’s office. Nick’s already there.’

‘Iain’s office?’ Roth laughed. ‘Seriously?’

‘He has his reasons. And he doesn’t want me to spoil them. Come along.’

Roth followed, noticing the disdain in Pearce’s voice despite his grin. That lifted his spirits a little. If something annoyed Nathaniel Pearce, it was likely to be good – or at least entertaining.

Oliver Roth had not seen the office since the night Iain Marshall had died in it: since the prisoner in the room had exploded with such force that the whole AME computer had been annihilated, along with everything else in the room including Marshall. Even after a month, Roth was surprised they’d finished scraping Joseph McCormick off the walls.