Storm by Tiffany D. Jackson

Author:Tiffany D. Jackson [Jackson, Tiffany D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2024-06-04T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Covered in sweat and dirt, we reach the outskirts of the town by early afternoon stopping at the first small market we see for water.

“Do you think the bike is still there?” I ask, breath ragged. I wash off my bloody leg, wincing through the stinging pain, and tear a fresh piece of T-shirt to wrap it. “What if someone stole it?”

T’Challa chugs down a bottle of water, sweat glistening off his chest, and checks his bracelet. His eyes narrow as he studies the hologram that rises up.

“It is in the same spot…but there is someone with it.”

Dread fills me. “The soldiers?”

T’Challa looks up at me, rubbing the back of his neck. “I am not sure.”

We must get out of this town before the soldiers come back looking for us. And there’s no way we can make it anywhere on foot and expect to live. We need the bike.

I roll my shoulders back and nod. “Well, we’ll go together and see.”

T’Challa opens his mouth to argue but seems to think better of it. “Okay.”

The town is busier than last night, people going about their daily routines. But that still doesn’t stop anyone from staring at the bare-chested boy and the girl with a T-shirt on her head walking through the streets. T’Challa’s jaw clenches, his fists ready, bracing himself for a fight. Meanwhile, I’m tenser than I’ve ever been, checking the face of each person we pass. We’re too exposed.

Anxiety pushes through each step we take, and my mind runs wildly through the possibilities of who might be waiting for us at the bike. Maybe it’s not the soldiers. Maybe it’s the Shadow King’s men. That soldier who survived saw my hair. If he made it back to camp, he could have told someone. It wouldn’t take long for word to spread. If it’s them…it would all be over.

I glance up at the sky, then down at my sweaty palms.

Now would be a really good time for some of that lightning.

We take a side street, running behind the garage to keep the element of surprise. Then we peer around the corner, searching for the bike, and find it still parked in its same spot.

But no one is there.

T’Challa checks his beads as I scan the road, surrounding buildings, and passing tut tuts. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. But when dealing with the Shadow King, anything is possible.

“I don’t understand,” T’Challa mumbles. “Wait here.”

I grip his wrist. “No! You could be walking into a trap.”

“Just wait,” he says, leaving no room for argument. “Watch my back.”

I hold my breath as he creeps over to the bike. He circles it once, stops short, staring at something on the other side of it that I can’t see. He looks up and calls me over.

A little boy sits beside the bike, staring up with frightened eyes and dry lips.

The boy from the cage.

I gasp, dropping to the ground, offering him water. “What are you doing here? In broad daylight!”

His eyes fill with tears.

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