Reactive: A Young Adult Dystopian Romance (The Elite Trials Book 1) by Becky Moynihan

Author:Becky Moynihan [Moynihan, Becky]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Broken Books
Published: 2018-10-02T05:00:00+00:00

I was floating, this time just my legs.

At least, I thought they were floating. I couldn’t feel them.

I couldn’t feel anything, really. If I was dying or dead, it wasn’t so bad. It was sort of . . . peaceful.

My eyes rubbed against their lids and I worked on prying them open. They were gritty, heavy. It was like lifting a seventy-pound sack of grain. Everything was blurry when they finally opened. And gray—a dreary, colorless shade. I blinked lethargically, trying to sharpen my vision. After a moment, I realized the sky was misting, hence the hazy view.

I was shrouded in a deep fog, completely confused as to how I ended up in it. Was I really dead? Was this . . . Heaven?

With a monumental effort, I raised my head to get a better look. The small movement sent spikes of pain into my left shoulder blade, and a pathetic whimper puffed past my lips. The peace was gone now, in its place worry. I wasn’t in Heaven. More like hell on Earth.

Memories crashed into me and I fought for calm. Someone, or several someones, tried to murder me. They had almost succeeded too. I should be dead. But here I was and, with growing panic, I realized where here was: the riverbank. Half of my body still lay in the water, which explained why I couldn’t feel my legs.

Stay calm, I commanded myself. Slow, shallow breaths. In, out, in, out. That’s it.

I studied my murky surroundings, not recognizing this part of the city. How far had I drifted downriver? I strained to hear—held my breath as I listened for signs of civilization. Only the river’s gurgle reached my ears. Wait . . . I picked up another sound. There! It was like a zap, or a zing, or a—

“No,” I whispered, crestfallen. It was an electric buzz.

I was at Tatum City’s outer wall.

A weak groan rolled up my throat. This part of the city lay untouched, miles away from help. I was alone. No one would find me out here. I knew my body wanted to cry in frustration, so I lifted my head higher, creating the perfect distraction. A terrible ache pulsed in my back and, before I could chicken out, I inched shaking fingers toward the source.

I hissed as my half-numb arm continued its slow journey. I was so weak, like a newborn. Eventually, the pads of my fingers bumped up against cold steel and I gasped, more from shock than pain.

I’d been stabbed.

The blade was still embedded in tissue and muscle. Bile raced up my throat. Acid covered the roof of my mouth. I clamped down on my tongue and rode the waves of nausea, refusing to vomit. The violent action would render me unconscious.

I diverted my attention by focusing on my predicament. First things first. I needed to get out of this water. The cold temperature was slowly killing me. My mind drifted, thinking about how far I’d have to travel if I wanted to see another sunrise.

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