True Storm by L. E. Sterling

Author:L. E. Sterling [Sterling, L. E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: dystopian;futuristic;X-Men;gene splicing;mutations;twin sisters;protector hero
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2018-03-12T04:00:00+00:00

15

I stare out the windows of Storm’s car. The streets of Dominion are strange and blank. Blank like me. The hurt in my chest keeps blossoming, unfurling with every block. Absently I rub at the spot in my chest where it feels like my heart has been ripped out. I feel a pinch on my arm, though no hands touch me.

Margot.

I gaze over at my sister. She looks bright as sunshine on the other side of the back seat. Her hair is pulled into a severe ponytail, exposing the high, long line of her neck and the fragile bones of her cheeks. The mirror image of myself. I don’t know what to say. I can’t share without giving away all my secrets. So when my lip starts to quiver, my eyes blinking back rain, I pretend to look terribly interested in the drab morning scene.

It looks like every other day in this dying city.

From the corner of my eye, I spy a Laster on the street. The man puts out a hand to brace himself against a wall. Not long for this world, I reckon. I watch him shake just before he doubles over, an arm slashing over his bloated, empty stomach. I am about to turn away, not able to take a second more of the misery to be found in the streets, when a figure steps out from the shadow.

I would have known what he was even without the long robe flowing down over his long torso. On his face is a stamp: red circles, conjoined in the middle. Not an ordinary preacher man, then. A Watcher. He steps behind the Laster, a hand outstretched, perhaps to comfort the dying man.

“Margot,” I murmur, sitting up straighter. But by then we’ve cruised past the scene, and I will never know what it was the Watcher was going to do. Margot’s eyes are curious as I look over. Watcher. I mouth the word, not sure I want to say it out loud.

Margot’s eyes go wide as she realizes what I’ve said. They’ve been in hiding, or so we thought. So we’ve been told. So what does it mean that the Watchers are on the streets again?

What does it mean that we haven’t been told?

The hair on the back of my neck stands at attention. I receive the double prick of Margot’s, a gnawing knot of anxiety that grips my gut. Within the flicker of an eyelash, Margot and I have made a pact of silence. We’ll wait until we’re alone to discuss this. The car pulls to a stop, and Shane glances at us through the rearview.

“Everything all right, girls?”

“Fine,” we singsong. The door locks open and we pile out, blinking against a gray-white sky.

Shane frowns at us as he steps around. “You know you should wait until I’m door side.”

We know the drill. It’s protocol to let the mercs escort you from the car to the doors of the school. But something is going on today. Not the least, I reckon as I look around, is how far away from the Academy we’ve stopped.

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