Burn Down, Rise Up by Vincent Tirado

Burn Down, Rise Up by Vincent Tirado

Author:Vincent Tirado
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2022-04-11T00:00:00+00:00


3:26 a.m.

Charlize and I locked eyes, fear rolling through every inch of my body.

“We have to get off this train,” I said.

“No! We can’t end the journey!” she yelled. “That’s literally one of only three rules!”

I opened my mouth to argue that but couldn’t. I didn’t have a reason why we should get off the train—I just felt it, like instinct. Something wasn’t right.

“What time is it?” Charlize asked. I looked down at my phone.

“It’s three twenty-six.”

We had another half an hour to go before we could safely get off. I sat back in my seat and tapped my bat against the floor. Everything about the train felt like your typical subway train. Heat rolled into the car. It smelled like an amalgamation of everyone who had been on it. There was Sharpie graffiti on parts of the walls and stale gum stuck to the side of the seat I was on.

The automatic voice never came on, and the train ran smoothly, only stopping at platforms, but, other than that, it followed the basic expectations for a New York City train.

“What do we do now?” Charlize asked, making me think back to the man in the corduroy jacket. He only answered two questions before leaving. Even something about that felt like a hint. “What do we—”

“Jesus, Charlize!” I snapped again. “I don’t know, okay! I don’t know what we’re supposed to do if we can’t get off the train. Do you have any other ideas?”

She pursed her lips together and glared at me. She didn’t. She only turned away, sitting farther down the train from me. Some part of me wanted to apologize, but I couldn’t figure out why. I just knew I blamed her for being here.

You’re just as much a part of this as she is, my own thoughts hissed back at me.

Mami was infected by Cisco, a fact I could no longer ignore. Why did he go after my own mom like that? Part of me knew these thoughts weren’t my own—that it was the Echo getting into my head—but they still made me angry.

I sank back into the corner seat. The train ran on, stopping intermittently, but no one appeared to get on at all.

Suddenly, Charlize ran to the window.

“What?” I asked. She didn’t answer until I called her again.

“I thought—I thought I saw Cisco.” She stared out into the darkness, mouth ajar. I tried to follow her line of sight, but I couldn’t see a platform, much less a person.

“I think the Echo is just messing with you,” I said, looking away. “That seems to be the theme for the night.”

“I know what I saw. Cisco’s out there.”

The train doors closed and moved on. Her shoulders dropped with a sigh. I didn’t have to meet her eyes to know they were full of regret.

She slid down into a seat and continued to stare out the window even while the train moved. In the reflection, I saw her narrow her eyes as if convinced of seeing something move in the darkness.



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