Fight Dirty by C J Lyons

Author:C J Lyons [Lyons, C J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781477825785
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 2014-10-06T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 27

Once she quieted and stopped fighting back, the men in the van left Morgan alone. That didn’t make her feel any better. Instead it demonstrated exactly what little control she had.

Fear chilled her. Was this how Bree had felt? she wondered. Probably not, but it was as close as Morgan was ever going to get.

The Norms had it all wrong—they said people like her didn’t feel emotion. Bullshit. Morgan had plenty of emotions; she just usually wasn’t guided by them, could keep them tamped down, focus on what she wanted instead of what silly neurochemicals and hormones urged her to do.

No, she felt. Sometimes much, much more than Norms ever could. Because when Morgan’s emotions were unleashed—the strong ones like fear, anger, maybe love, she wouldn’t know—they crescendoed into a wave that consumed her, lifting her higher, far above to lofty heights where she could do anything, where there were no rules, no limitations, no reason why she couldn’t be a god.

Whoever said, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself,” was so very right—for the wrong reasons. He meant to forget fear, just carry on, stiff upper lip. Typical sheep reasoning. Gather together and huddle into one big fat target for the wolf to devour.

Norms didn’t understand the power of emotions. If you embraced them, allowed them to escape from Pandora’s box and sweep you up, they were like riding a tsunami. Her father had tasted that power at an early age. He’d lived his life seeking more, more, more until his addiction had crashed him back down to earth. He’d fallen hard and now paid the price.

Yes, Morgan felt. But she had none of the paralysis, deer-in-the-headlights freezing that many Norms exhibited. Instead she would become deathly still just long enough to coldly analyze the situation before springing into action. Instead of the tunnel vision and sound dampening that Nick’s soldier patients reported during their traumatic combat experiences, Morgan’s vision expanded to the point where she only needed to move her eyes but the slightest fraction to see everything around her. Her hearing became preternatural as well.

And instead of fear or anger driving her into a fog of action later poorly remembered—as if Norms’ brains tried to protect them from the repercussions of any heightened emotional state—Morgan would remember everything in precise, intimate detail.

Something else her father reveled in. Reliving each moment of every heinous crime over and over—but it was only by committing another atrocity, bigger, badder, bolder, that he could truly achieve the stimulation he sought. For him, there was no end, only an infinite compulsion for more, more, more.

When Morgan felt fear she harnessed it. Like now. Assessing her options and her weapons. Even wryly observing that she’d brought this on herself—and wasn’t this exactly what she’d asked for? An intimate understanding of what Bree had gone through?

Although Bree didn’t have what Morgan had. Namely, two transmitters, one audio/visual recorder, and a pair of hidden lock picks that not even Jenna knew about.

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