Текст книги "The Moon Dwellers"
Автор книги: David Estes
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
He changes direction and moves toward her, taking ages to reach her behind the Dumpster. I tense slightly, ready to spring into action if needed. I’m not sure what I expect; I guess that maybe the old man is faking his injury and will suddenly smack her over the head with the cane and carry her away. Not surprisingly, he doesn’t.
Apparently, Elsey is able to convince him to help, because he hobbles off a minute later, and Elsey gives us the okay sign using her index finger and thumb. I reply with a thumbs-up.
Waiting for the man is as boring as watching rocks being eroded by the flow of an underground stream. He takes so long. I swear he must be in there negotiating a peace treaty, not just ordering some food. In any event, I manage to keep my eyes open until he reemerges holding big cloth bags. He struggles under the weight of the bags, readjusting his grip and switching arms several times before finally reaching my sister. I see her hand him the pouch of Nailins as payment. As we’d instructed her, she waits until the man limps onto the street and out of sight before tiptoeing back to where we are hiding.
Her eyes are wide with excitement and her smile gleeful. “How’d I do?” she asks.
“You were perfect,” I say, meaning it.
“You did really well,” Tawni adds.
“Your first solo mission was a complete success,” Cole says.
Elsey beams. By the way she looks at him, I think Cole’s compliment makes her the happiest.
It is amazing what money can buy these days. The spread of food is impressive, even with four of us eating. We each get a sourdough roll, two pieces of bacon, a sizable hunk of some kind of cheese we never could’ve afforded growing up, a sort of root we call hyro, a cinnamony potato dish, and a small flask of warm tea. The icing on the cake is literally the icing on the cake. We split two pieces of dark chocolate cake with chocolate icing. Down in the Moon Realm—at least in our subchapter—chocolate is scarce, and very expensive, so the fact that the café had it, that we could afford it, and that the old man thought to ask for it, is a small miracle. My only mistake: eating way too much too fast. By the time I finish eating I’ve crossed the line between pleasantly full and disgustingly stuffed.
“Uhhh,” I groan.
Elsey is nibbling daintily at the corner of her cake. “You okay, sis?”
“Other than being on the verge of throwing up, I’m fine.”
“Here, a little extra cake might help wash it down,” Cole suggests, pushing the chocolate toward my face. I don’t even have a chance to tell him how obnoxious he is, because the food is coming back up.
I barely have time to turn my head before I throw up. Although it is disgusting and unpleasant, I feel better afterwards. I even let Cole’s antics go without revenge.
When we finish eating, we pack the leftover food (which isn’t much), and begin the second phase of our plan: operation night train.
I’m still not very comfortable with the idea, but I’ve committed to it, which means I’m going to do everything in my power to help us be successful. It’s just the way I am. For me it’s all in or all out—no middle ground, no wishy-washy, no excuses.
Continuing to use back streets, we manage to get pretty close to the rail station. We hide in the shadows, performing reconnaissance, waiting for the right time to make a move. The area around the station looks pretty deserted, although every once and a while someone passes by and goes inside. In the entire subchapter, the lighting is the best in this area, which is good for most travelers. Unfortunately, we aren’t most travelers, and would prefer utter darkness.
After twenty minutes or so of no one passing us, Cole hisses, “We can’t wait here all night.”
“Now or never,” I agree. We each don the hoods attached to our tunics. It’s a cool night, so the hoods are unlikely to draw any special attention to us.
We leave the safety of the dark and stride out into the light. We walk side by side, at a normal but purposeful pace, eyes ahead, ears listening for any signs of discovery. With every footstep I expect to hear a shout, a whistle, alarm bells, something. Something saying We gotcha!
We make it inside the terminal without drama.
The ticket window is straight ahead. As we previously agreed, I take the lead on buying the tickets. I walk up, trying to appear confident, like I buy train tickets all the time, like I belong here. At the same time I keep my head lowered slightly, trying to cast a shadow across at least part of my face.
“Three adults and one child for the next train to subchapter twenty-six,” I say, attempting to keep my voice steady. I lock my knees to stop them from shaking.
At first the guy behind the counter—a short, grumpy-looking fellow with gray stubble and more nose hairs protruding from his nostrils than most people have in their nose—is indifferent to me, his voice monotone, like a robot.
“Three and one to twenty-six,” he repeats. “Next train available…”—he pauses, consults a timetable—“…departs in six minutes. Express train.”
He is just going through the motions, which is fine by me, but I know the hard part is still to come.
It comes. “I need travel vouchers for all adults,” he says, finally glancing up over his glasses at my face. His boring, emotionless face changes in an instance. It’s just a slight twitch, a flash of recognition in his eyes, but I can see that he knows who I am. Smartly, he pretends not to. I wonder if he’s got a big red security button somewhere underneath his desk. I can see both his hands, but he might be able to press it with his knees.
“Look, buddy, we don’t have travel vouchers, but you probably already guessed that. But we do have this.” I spill the pouch of shiny gold Nailins out onto his desk. “If you keep quiet you can have them all.”
At the sight of the money, the guy’s eyes light up and his fat lips twist into a greedy grin. “Done deal,” he says without hesitation. He stamps four tickets and hands them to me in a stack.
I know we aren’t out of the woods yet. Because the guy is willing to accept a bribe, he is also probably prone to dishonesty, like accepting said bribe while still planning to turn us in to the authorities. At least we have tickets.
With only a few minutes until the train’s departure, we don’t have time to bet on whether the guy will stick to our deal. Instead, we hurry through the automatic ticket turnstiles, praying he’s given us real tickets. With each swipe of one of the tickets, the gates open and allow one of us through.
The train has just pulled into the station, its doors open and waiting for us to board. A few passengers straggle off, but they are so haggard from the long journey that they don’t even look up as we pass.
“Last car,” I say, leading the group into a light jog. The last car will ensure we are away from any other passengers who happen to jump on the train just before it leaves.
We are halfway to the last car when an alarm goes off, blaring through the silent station. Red lights flash. There is maybe a minute before the train departs.
We run.
I hear a shout from behind us and twist my head to see men jumping over the turnstiles. They aren’t looking for a free ride—that is for sure. They are after us. And leading the pack: Rivet.
We run harder. Thirty seconds to departure.
We reach the last car and board. I try the manual door levers but they are jammed. Just in case I’m not strong enough, Cole tries them, too, but reaches the same conclusion. We are at the mercy of the train being on time.
Pressing our faces against the glass, we watch as Rivet’s group splits into two. One group, led by a big black guy with a wicked barbed-wire tattoo around his exposed bicep, heads straight for us, trying to beat the doors. The other group, led by the Devil—also known as Rivet—veers left and boards the train about three cars in front of us, thus ensuring they are at worst traveling with us.
I’m not worried about the second group at the moment. The first group is closing in, running full speed, their eyes heavy with violence.
The doors start to close.
The guys are so close I think they’ll make it. My instinct is to shrink back toward the back of the car, away from the doors. Cole has a better idea.
“C’mon,” he says, urging me to move up to the closing doors. We inch forward until we’ve created a human barricade. The big guy in the front tries to charge straight through us. Without planning it, Cole and I kick at the same time. I catch him hard in the knee and hear a crunch as it bends backwards the wrong way. Simultaneously, Cole lays into him with a boot in the face, using his foot like a sledgehammer.
“Argh!” the dude roars, falling backwards into his friends.
The doors close.
Chapter Eighteen
Tristan
“It’s Rivet!” I hiss. “What do you make of it?”
“Exercise,” Roc says.
“Exercise?”
“Yeah. They’re just out for a midnight run. You know, to keep in shape.”
I am glad to have the old Roc back, the one who jokes in even the most serious situations. “I think we should join them, I’m feeling a bit out of shape, too.”
Roc nods, grinning.
We steal from the alley and jog along the street, moving silently on only our toes. We probably don’t even need to be as careful as we are, as Rivet and his men are making so much noise they wouldn’t hear the grind of a drilling machine following them.
Our quarry reaches the city center and enters the train terminal. We follow as close as we dare. The moment we enter the station, the emergency sirens go off. I whirl around, half-expecting a squadron of troops to surround us, but there is no one.
“Hurry,” Roc says, “we’re gonna lose ’em.”
I spin around and start chasing Rivet again, who’s doubled his speed, heading straight for the turnstiles to a waiting train. Ticketless, his men hop the barrier. Finally, I can see why they are in such a hurry.
Four figures are running along the platform, evidently aiming to board the last car. They are all wearing hoods, so it is difficult to distinguish individual features, other than height. But still I know. There are four of them, one much shorter than the others. Plus Rivet is chasing them. It is her. Adele. Her sister. The other two fugitives.
Following Rivet’s lead, we launch ourselves over the ticket machines. There is no way we are going to catch Rivet’s men, much less Adele and her friends. I extend an arm to stop Roc.
“Wait, let’s see what happens,” I say.
We watch as Rivet’s men split up, half boarding a car in the middle of the train and the other half zeroing in on the last car. We are flush with the doors of the first car, which start to close. One of Rivet’s men tries to jump on the last car but is met by at least two feet, which knock him back.
I slip through the crack in the doors and pull Roc in after me.
My mind is racing. We are on the train. Rivet and his men are on the train. Adele, her sister, her friends. We couldn’t have coordinated it any better if we’d tried.
“It’s like fate,” Roc says, reading my mind. Maybe my father was wrong about fate after all.
“Where are we going?”
As if in response to my question, the train starts moving and the speaker drones. “Nonstop to subchapter twenty-six.”
“Subchapter twenty-six? But that’s where—”
“Camp Blood and Stone,” Roc finishes. It is another classified thing I’ve told him.
“But why would Adele be headed there?” I say, thinking aloud. It hits me like a sucker punch from a one-armed man. “Her parents!” I exclaim.
Roc’s eyes widen. “Yes,” he says. “It has to be. The reporter said they were traitors. There’s nowhere else they would’ve been taken.”
“She’s trying to get her family back. First her sister and now her mom and dad.”
Just then I have a flashback from the last thrilling train ride we had. Waiting in the car. Watching as the two guards switched cars, moving along the train toward us. Slipping onto our train. The fight.
I rush down the car, not bothering to explain to Roc. Reaching the end I tug at the door. It is either stuck, locked, or not a real door, because it won’t budge. I peer through the glass window, looking into the next car. It is empty. So is the one after that. I’m not sure how many cars are empty before I spot movement. I can barely make out moving black blobs several cars in front of us.
“It’s an express night train,” Roc says, approaching from behind. “There’s no car-to-car access. The train won’t stop because of the security alarms either. They’re fully automated.”
“How do you now so much about Moon Realm trains?”
“That’s what they pay me the big bucks for.”
When I turn around, Roc’s grinning. “What’s so funny?” I say.
“Well, besides my witty sense of humor, the fact that we’re on this crazy train headed for sure death brings a bit of a smile to my face.”
“You’re an odd one,” I say.
“That coming from Mr. Love-at-first-sight-chase-the-girl-all-over-the-Tri-Realms-getting-kidnapped-by-rebels-and-cannibals.”
“Hey, there was only one cannibal, not plural. And I’m not sure if it’s…love.” I say love like it’s some sort of a rare disease that can only be proven by a series of medical tests.
“If you so say so.”
With at least a couple of hours of travel ahead of us, I settle into a booth. Roc selects a booth opposite mine. I try to focus my mind on my feelings. I’m not sure if it is even possible to think about your feelings. I always seem to just feel things without really comprehending what I am feeling. It’s like there is this eternal gulf between my heart and head, and each time I try to construct a bridge to span it, a gust of wind blows it over.
I know I feel something for Adele, despite the fact that, as Roc constantly points out, I’ve never even spoken to her. I’m sure most people would say it’s just a crush, because I think she is beautiful, but I’ve been surrounded by beautiful people—at least by Sun Realm standards—all my life and never felt anything for them.
She is different. Yeah, I am drawn to her looks, but it feels like more than me just being a typical guy chasing a tunic. Behind her exquisite beauty is a person, who I feel like I’m getting to know from afar. She is strong—there is no doubt about that. The proof: escaping prison, navigating through the Lonely Caverns, fighting off Rivet’s men, attempting a suicide mission to rescue her parents from one of my father’s traitor camps. All pretty gutsy.
But I can also tell there is a tenderness to her. I felt it when she looked back at me when I was fighting Rivet. Like she felt sad that I should have to struggle for her sake.
Adele is funny, too. I have no proof for that. Can’t explain how I know. But I know as sure as I know my mother loved me. If I tell Roc I think Adele is funny I’ll never be able to live it down. I’m not going to tell Roc.
“Tristan?”
I look at Roc. I’ve been staring into space, but that isn’t unusual for me these days. Roc is staring at my hands. I look down and realize they are clasped tightly and I am running them over and over each other, fiercely massaging them. I stop, separate them, place them on my thighs.
“You okay?” Roc says.
“Uh, yeah. Just a little nervous, I guess.”
“About what to do when the train stops?”
“Not what to do,” I say. “How to do it.”
“You’ll do it,” Roc says. “We’re here for a reason. I sense it.”
I search Roc’s brown eyes for the truth. For a moment I sense it, too, try to snatch it out, but then it fades away, disappearing, just like all the good things in my life always seem to do. Sometimes Roc seems so confident and serious, like now, and other times so helpless, like in the midst of a fight, or when we were captured.
I try to turn my philosophical thoughts off and focus on the task at hand. “Right, I’ll need your help, Roc, there are just too many of them for me to handle on my own.”
Roc’s wise eyes turn fearful in an instant.
“We’ll get through it together. I won’t let anything happen to you,” I say, knowing we might both be dead by day’s end.
Roc nods, purses his lips, seems to resign himself to the certain violence that is headed our way, like a meteor on a collision course with earth.
“We’ll have the element of surprise,” I continue, “but that will only help us at the very beginning, so we have to take advantage of it. Rivet will head straight for Adele and we’ll just have to hope she and her friends can hold him off until we get there. We’ll pick off his other men from behind, one at a time. We’ll each take a different one until they’re all gone. Yell if you’re in trouble and I’ll do whatever it takes to get to you. Understood?”
“Yes, sire,” he drones, but I can tell he appreciates the direction.
“Once we’ve downed all the men, I’ll head for Rivet while you try to find a safe place for Adele to hide. They may think we’re foes, so you’ll have to convince them otherwise.”
“I’ll convince them,” Roc promises.
* * *
Adele
I can see them through the glass, several cars back, pacing around, punching the walls, acting like they are on drugs. Maybe they are. Something to make them even more violent—as if they need that.
At first I think there might be a way for them to get to us while the train is still moving, but now I don’t think so. We are seemingly safe for the moment. I know it won’t last.
We haven’t spoken since the train started moving. I don’t think any of us has the words, or knows what to say. Even Elsey seems to be lost in her thoughts, perhaps mulling over the flash of violence she witnessed by me at the train doors. Tawni is standing in the corner, leaning against the wall, staring out the window as the rocky tunnel flashes by. Cole is seated, his head down, one foot tapping rapidly on the floor.
According to Cole, who seems to have a pretty good handle on these sorts of matters, the train ride will only take two hours, being an express. Although I know we are traveling at hundreds of miles per hour, the ride is so smooth it barely feels like we’re moving.
An hour goes by in silence. Typically I’d be comfortable with the quiet, as I grew used to it during the endless hours I spent alone in the Pen, but for some reason I can’t stand it now. With every second that goes by, the screaming in my head gets worse, until I can’t take it anymore.
“Urrrrr!” I grunt, making a weird growling, gurgling noise from the back of my throat.
Everyone looks at me. Elsey grins nervously. Tawni raises an eyebrow. Cole laughs, of course. “Are we there yet?” he asks, purposely sounding as whiny as possible.
I take a deep breath. I need to calm down, try to get a grip on the anxiety I’m feeling. I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack.
“I hope so,” I say, trying to sound tough. I’m secretly dreading our arrival, afraid of not being able to protect my friends, my sister. Afraid of what Rivet will do. Afraid of what Rivet will tell me about Tristan when I ask him. At the same time, the waiting might be worse. It is like pulling out a splinter of rock from your foot. Although the pain is minor with it in your skin, over time it becomes more and more uncomfortable, until it’s unbearable, leaving you making weird grunting-gurgling noises like some sick animal. Left untreated, the splinter pushes deeper into the skin, becoming a part of you. The only treatment is to pull it out, swiftly and painfully. When the doors open at the end of the line, we’ll have no choice but to remove our own rock splinter.
“What are they going to do to us?” Elsey says, sounding like a normal kid, instead of my older-than-her-years sister.
I want to reassure her, but I also don’t want to lie to her. I hesitate for a moment, trying to formulate the right words, but Cole answers for me. “Nothing,” he says. “They’re not gonna touch any of you. I’ll make sure of that.”
Coming from Cole, it isn’t just talk. As he cracks his knuckles, I can see a level of determination in his face that exceeds even his normal level of strength. As much as it comforts me, it also scares me, not because of what he might do to Rivet and his gang, but because of what they might do to him. Although I don’t voice it, I vow at that moment to do whatever it takes to protect my friends, even if it costs me my life. There are some things more important than your own life. Like friendship, and love, and trust, and goodness.
We speak very little during the final hour, but for some reason it doesn’t bother me anymore. I’ve made my vow, as has Cole, so there is nothing else to talk about. We have no strategy, except to run from Rivet until we are forced to stand and fight. Then we will fight.
I feel the train slowing and my heart skips a beat.
* * *
Tristan
The train slows and I stand. Roc follows suit, looking rather sick. He tries to pull his sword from his sheath, but it gets stuck three times before he can get it out. I know now is the time for a big speech, something to energize him for the battle ahead. My mouth feels sticky and dry, so I take a sip of water. I don’t know what I plan to say, so I just start speaking, hoping my heart will do the rest.
“Roc,” I say, “you’re my brother. Always will be.”
Short, concise, simple; but I mean every word, more than anything I’ve ever said before. And it seems to do the job. Roc’s hand stops trembling and tightens on his sword, his eyes change to a steely brown, his jaw firms up.
“I’m with you, Tristan. I’d die for you.”
Tears fill my eyes but I blink them away. Now is not the time for tears. “And I you,” I say.
The train rolls to a stop. A heavy mist roils outside the window. Subchapter 26 is dark, but not completely. Something is lighting the sky. We are standing flush against the doors, trying to be the first off—every second will be important in the deadly game we are playing. The doors open and we step out into the mist.
Not mist—smoke. The air is filled with the suffocating stench of war. The platform trembles as a bomb explodes in the distance. The bombing has reached the northernmost subchapter.
I can’t see through the thick smoke, but I run along the train anyway, hoping that Adele is still alive when I reach the end.
When I see Rivet his back is to me. His men are so focused on what he is telling them that they don’t see me. I fade backwards into the fog. I bump into Roc.
“What is it?” he whispers.
“They seem confused as to what to do. Rivet’s giving them orders, but they’re not just rushing the end car like they probably wanted to. The war’s distracted them, I think.”
“Can we get around them?” Roc coughs. His eyes are already red from the smoke. We need to get away from the noxious fumes. They aren’t thick enough to kill us right away, but prolonged exposure surely won’t be good.
“I don’t know, but we have to try.”
We drift right, moving further into the smoke, trying to carve a wide arc around Rivet. Already the smoke is clearing, however, and it won’t be long before we’re able to see them and them us. The bombing hasn’t stopped—we can still hear the rumble of explosions in the distance and intermittent flashes of light—but it is moving away; hence, the clearing smoke.
Ahead and to the left of us I see dark figures huddled together. Not Rivet and his men. We are past them. Adele and her friends—has to be.
We move toward them.
* * *
Adele
“Something’s not right,” Cole says, gazing out the window as the train pulls into the station.
“There’s so much smoke,” Tawni says.
I try to speak but my voice catches. There is a lump in my throat. The star dwellers are bombing subchapter 26. My father is out there somewhere, unprotected, maybe already a victim.
Older-than-her-age Elsey grabs my hand, squeezes, and says, “He’ll be okay.”
Although I know she doesn’t have any proof for her statement, it is comforting. The doors open.
I expected us to race from the train the second the doors opened, but the situation has changed. We can hear booming explosions in the distance. We can barely see anything outside; it is so smoky.
Cole says, “Elsey should hide in the train. They’ll think we’ve all left.”
I like the idea of hiding Elsey away somewhere, but not leaving her all alone. She isn’t too happy with the idea either. “No! I’m coming with you,” she says.
Cole looks at me, hoping I’ll back him up. “We can’t just leave her here,” I say. My mind is racing. Rivet might already be running down the train line, headed for us, and we are still in the car, like sitting ducks. We have to move.
“Move!” I say, pacing to the door and pulling Elsey, who is still holding my hand, with me.
I step out, turn to face the other end of the train. The smoke—thick and puffy when we arrived—is dissipating already. Likely a bomb exploded near the train station just before we arrived. Although it is getting easier to see, I don’t see our hunters. I can only see maybe two cars down, and Rivet’s gang is at least three away. Maybe even four or five—it is hard to tell.
Cole and Tawni step out next to us. “Where the hell are they?” Cole says, thinking out loud.
I feel someone approaching from the left, out of the mist. I quarter-turn to see two dark shapes moving toward us. Rivet—has to be.
“Run!” I yell.
We take off away from the platform. We stay as a group, although Cole and Tawni could outdistance Elsey and me anytime they want to. I hear thumping footsteps on the stone behind us, someone chasing us. I don’t look back, don’t want to see Rivet’s bloodthirsty eyes.
As we move away from the platform, the smoke disappears completely. It is weird, how it is clustered around the train. The bomb must’ve hit really close to it.
Ahead of us I can see the twinkling lights of subchapter 26. It seems everyone has their lights on, probably because of the bombing, although being able to see won’t protect them from death by explosion.
I hear the footsteps getting closer, hear a shout, but can’t make out what the voice says. It doesn’t sound like Rivet’s snarl, but it might be one of his men. It is weird. I felt scared when I first started running, but it changed at some point. It’s like a magic trick, where a magician turns a rock into a bat or something; except it’s my fear turning into anger, to the point where I feel capable of great violence. Even when I fought in the Pen, I never felt capable of anything. I just did what I had to do and hoped for the best. But now I feel strong, like I can fight Rivet, even though he’s a highly trained soldier.
Enough is enough.
I whirl around, ready to face the Devil.
They are right on top of us, having closed most of the distance. I just react, swinging a high kick in self-defense. I catch my pursuer under the chin, knock him off his feet. He rolls onto his stomach. His companion stops dead in his tracks and just stares at me.
He doesn’t look like a trained killer. He is holding a sword, but it doesn’t look natural; it looks more like he’s holding a bread knife. Brown-skinned with brown eyes, he appears more shocked than anything.
“Who are you?” I say, wondering if I am making a big mistake.
The guy opens his mouth but no words come out. The other guy, the one I leveled, groans and rolls over, showing his face.
I gasp.
It is Tristan.
At this point it would probably make sense to run to him, throw myself upon him, and shower him with kisses while apologizing profusely for having practically knocked his head off. Like I said earlier: I don’t always do the right thing in social situations.
“Why are you chasing us?” I demand. Up close, he is so beautiful, even more beautiful than he looked when I saw him from the Pen, or from the outskirts of the Lonely Caverns.
“Trying…to…help,” Tristan murmurs, massaging his jaw with one hand.
“Oh,” I say. I guess I should’ve guessed that.
“What happened?” Cole says, appearing with Elsey and Tawni next to me. They must’ve stopped when they realized I wasn’t with them.
“It’s him,” Elsey whispers. “Tristan.”
“I know,” I say.
“Why’d you hit him? I thought you liked him,” Cole says.
“I didn’t hit him, I kicked him,”—I elbow Cole hard in the stomach—“and shut up about the other thing.” I am mortified. How could Cole say something so stupid? Tristan is going to think I’m just another school girl with a crush on the President’s son. Although that isn’t entirely inaccurate.
“You should probably help him up,” Tawni suggests.
“You help him up,” I retort. My social skills are falling apart at the seams. I’m just shocked, is all. I didn’t expect to see him. Truth be told, I thought he was dead. Thankfully, his friend helps him up.
Tristan approaches me. His midnight blue eyes are mesmerizing. They never leave mine. And yet it isn’t awkward, or embarrassing. I feel a flash of heat in my chest as my heart begins drumming out a rhythmic palpitation, perhaps the beat to some long-forgotten song. What is he doing? Why is he here? It makes no sense. I am nobody, and he is the prince of the Tri-Realms.
He extends his hand and takes mine, which still hangs loosely at my side. “I’m Tristan,” he says.
He is so close to me I can feel his breath on my lips. Another dream—has to be.
Before I have a chance to respond, Cole yells, “Get down!” and tackles us both to the hard ground.
* * *
Tristan
I can’t believe she kicked me! And with a wicked roundhouse no less, powerful and precise. Although I am trembling inside, nervous, I try to hide it as I reach out to shake her hand. When she doesn’t raise her arm, I reach down and take her hand, lifting it for her. As my fingertips contact her skin, I feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
When the big dark guy yells Get down! and smashes us both to the ground, I think it might just be some kind of a joke. Like maybe that’s how moon dweller teenagers have fun; a kick in the jaw to show affection, a hard tackle for a laugh. Of course, my thoughts make no sense considering we are in a warzone and being tracked by one of my father’s psycho thugs.
It is no joke.
Our bodies are so close together. She grabs my arm as we fall. On the ground, she clings to me, her hands warm on my skin. I’m in a trance, unable to tear my gaze from her sparkling, emerald eyes. I feel the same feelings I had when I first saw her—only they are a whole hell of a lot stronger now.
I hear a yell and Adele looks away from me. I wince, feeling physical pain when our eyes unlock. She pushes away from me and I know I did something wrong, was too forward with her when I grabbed her hand. What can I say? I’m not thinking clearly.
