Chorus by Emma Trevayne

Author:Emma Trevayne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: epub, ebook, QuarkXPress
ISBN: 9780762449507
Publisher: Running Press

The room turns red, then white.

It takes both Omega and Jonas to hold me back. “Calm down, Al,” Omega says, pulling me from the door. “We don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with yet, or who else is involved. We don’t know for sure that he is, only that it looks that way.”

I can’t fight him and my own brain at the same time and I bite my lip until the pain brings the room back into sharp focus. Okay. Fine, I’m fine. Think of the ocean, the ebb and flow. My breath evens.

“We should tell the others,” I say. “I’ll go get Lynx and Spectrum, get them to grab us some more untraceable tablets. Mine’s not enough. Nor does mine seem to be entirely untraceable, but that doesn’t matter right now. I’ll be back soon.” Haven and Omega both watch me warily.

“I’ll come,” Jonas says, and they relax.

“You can, too,” I say to Omega, just to make the point. He shakes his head.

“Are you going to tell me what they did to piss you off?”

“Nope.”

“But we can trust them?”

A reluctant nod.

“Awesome.”

He rolls his eyes at my tone. Someday I’ll unravel that puzzle, but whatever his problem with Lynx and Spectrum is, he seems willing to put it aside, more generous than I am. I hold grudges like hand grenades, and I’m not used to him not telling me things.

But I was the one who chose to leave, so maybe I deserve it.

Jonas heads toward the pod, but I shake my head. I need the walk, to leave my anger and adrenaline baking into hot tar behind us. I need the time. Feels like forever since I’ve been alone with him, even longer since we’ve been really alone. With Jonas’s arm around my shoulders, wandering through the night, we could be anyone, or no one, which is a more attractive thought.

After the war, I wondered sometimes what it would be like not to be the great Anthem’s younger sister, invisible and anonymous, just another figure in a tangle of heat and sound on a dance floor.

Around and around, my brain cycles through everything we actually do know so far: the radio waves, Lock, maybe. The Corp’s return, I’m sure of it. Los Angeles, my home. Verse, chorus, repeat. I feel like I’m walking in circles around that same danger zone of ignorance I was in the day of the white room. Enough to know something’s very, very wrong, too little to know how to stop it. Jonas catches me muttering under my breath and I tell him my thoughts, never wanting to stop.

The water bar is dark, locked, its sign a pool of shadow against the wall. Jonas knocks, the glass rattling in the door, but it’s useless; I know where they are. Idiots. Indecision glues me to the spot, rainwater dripping down the gutter and pooling around the soles of my boots.

“Okay, come on,” I say.

Jonas raises his eyebrows. I point to the opposite end of the alley. The

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