Traps and Specters by Bryan Chick

Traps and Specters by Bryan Chick

Author:Bryan Chick
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins


CHAPTER 24

THE WEIGHT OF EVIE’S PAST

As the scouts slept beneath the starry view in the Forest of Flight, six young teenage girls walked along the neighborhood streets, the magic of chameleons keeping them in perfect camouflage. They moved like ghosts. Specters. Jordynn was watching the western wall. Elakshi and Lee-Lee, the southern wall. Kaleena, the northern wall. And Evie and Sara, the eastern wall.

Evie didn’t like being on the Outside. Everything was different. The smells, the sounds. The air stung her throat, and it had a taste to it, something that came from the smoke that Outsiders poured into the air. And Evie missed the noise of the Secret Zoo, its ceaseless chatter of a thousand species. Birds cawing, elephants trumpeting, snakes hissing, frogs croaking—an endless song of animal voices.

Evie became bored and took a seat on the front of a car. A few chameleons jumped down, and she watched spots on the hood swirl and swell as the magic reptiles adjusted to the new surface.

Something nearby slammed shut and she jumped back to the street, startled. To her right, a middle-aged man stood outside his front door. The porch light revealed a briefcase in his one hand and a steamy mug in the other. He yawned, stretched, then walked down the sidewalk. At the end of his driveway, he headed to his car, which was the one Evie had been sitting on. The Specter backed into the middle of the street and watched, knowing she was invisible to him.

His face was freshly shaven, and he smelled like musk and spices—strange aromas that Outsiders put on their skin. He wore a stiff-looking jacket and an irritated expression: eyebrows pulled down, lips pursed tight. Evie imagined what bothered him. Being forced to wake early? Having to report to work? His brief walk through the cold?

Anger coursed through her. This man hadn’t earned the right to be troubled. He couldn’t imagine what Evie and the other Specters had been through, the savagery they’d experienced. Outsiders knew nothing of real pain.

As the man walked past, she reached out and tapped the bottom of his mug. Hot coffee splashed over the brim and streamed down his fingers. He dropped his briefcase, switched the mug to his other hand, and shook the heat off his skin. He cursed under his breath and leaned over for his briefcase. As he did, Evie moved behind him and kicked the case, which slid forward about two feet and stopped, still standing on end.

The man lurched back and stared all around.

Evie smiled. Being a Specter could sometimes be fun.

He set his mug on the roof of his car, leaned over, and watched the briefcase, his eyes wide, his mouth in a worried frown. He poked a finger forward, touched the briefcase, then pulled back his hand. Nothing happened. As he reached for the case a second time, Evie kicked it, sliding it forward again.

The man gasped and craned his neck in new directions. All the color had washed from his face.



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