“Why?” I ask. “It doesn’t make sense. Why take most of the humans, but not all? Why leave a few of us with the paras?”
“We’re all trying to figure that out.”
Shit, shit, shit! Where are you, Mom?
I leave Brigid and keep asking around, but nobody’s seen her. Nobody knows what Cigar-face and his glorified militia want. Nobody knows why we’re here. And in the moments when I’m not wracking my brain trying to figure out one or the other, I’m drawn back to that moment when the guns came up, and Axel vanished.
I really don’t want to think about that, any more than I want to think about Mom, and what might’ve happened to her. I don’t want to think that my only friend since the Uprising would dump me in the middle of an army and disappear.
Maybe he knew they’d lock me up and leave. It’s a comforting thought, because maybe he knew what he was doing. Maybe?
Eventually, I find a corner to curl up in. Cigar-face’s men don’t seem to be coming back; they’ve just left us in here. The hours tick by, the afternoon sliding into evening. I sit, I pace, and I help patch up the paras that our lovely captors beat on. Looking around me, it’s not hard to see why the paras did what they did. Not hard to see why the Uprising happened. I can’t imagine what it must be like, spending your entire life hiding who and what you are. Hiding your appearance, your age. I’d have wanted it to stop, too.
But no matter how much I understand it, there’s so much of the world that still doesn’t. So we’re caught in a war no one’s winning. One day things were normal, and the next, everything had changed.
It’s kind of funny how it happened. Some senator from Iowa stood up in the middle of a session on Capital Hill and started to talk about how he had something they all needed to hear. There were jokes about him coming out of the closet. Ironic, really. No one expected him to turn into a minotaur.
We all speculated. Thought, if they’d picked someone else, a para who looked less threatening, would have all happened the same way? If they would have called in the guards, forcing a standoff when half the Senate suddenly dropped their glamours, right alongside half the guard.
In a matter of hours, paras had revealed themselves around the world, and fighting had broken out as panicked humans gave in to their worst instincts, and said kill first, question later.
In a week, the government and the economy had collapsed. The world was in shambles. Riots, fighting, bombs. In a month, anarchy felt like the only thing we’d ever known.
Greenbriar made it work, brought life back to a semblance of normal. There had even been talk of reopening the school, if the fighting stayed away. So much for that.
Even if we get out, and the militia moves on, we’ve been found. The tenuous threads of what we’d built have been broken. Chances are, we can’t go back. And it’s all I can think about, how our fragile life is gone. So I stand up, and I pace, and I sit back down, trying to let the energy in my mind burn off. All while I wait. Minutes feel like hours. I end up back in my quiet corner, curled up hugging my knees, and trying to keep my mind off things I can’t change.
The door I came in squeals open, startling me out of my thoughts. I can’t see what’s going on because there’re too many people between me and it, so I stand up and try to push my way through. There’s a lot of noise, and a lot of us converging on the door. When I finally work my way close enough, I can see why all the shouting.
Cigar-face is standing there barking orders, his soldiers pulling paras from the crowd. It makes no sense to me. I can’t catch what any of them are saying because there’s too much noise. And then an ear-splitting racket drowns everything out and shakes the building. The crowd of paras shoves me back again before I can see what’s causing it. I push forward more, determined to find the source, but when I get through I wish I hadn’t. The reason everyone backed off stands a head taller than most of the rest, with horns, hooves, and a wicked amount of strength.
Minotaur. Worse, pissed-off minotaur.
And now I’m backing away, because he’s really pissed, and those horns are going everywhere.
The soldiers dog pile on, trying to pull him down. They’re making it worse, but they’re not stopping. The soldiers standing guard at the door look awfully nervous, fingering their guns. Cigar-face scowls and pulls out a handgun.
I can just see how this is going to not help.
Except I’m wrong. Whatever Cigar-face has in his gun, the raging minotaur screams when it hits him. The second shot drops him, writhing on the floor, making the worst sounds I have ever heard. Sounds of pain and anguish so terrible I never want to hear them again. And then Cigar-face shoots again, which really seems gratuitous, leaves him either dead or unconscious.
It also leaves the gym dead silent.
Cigar-face waves, and his goons drag the minotaur out. They grab a handful of other paras, none of whom fight back after that, and leave. The sound of the slamming doors echoes through the gym. It’s a sound as definite and certain as death, and I think we all jump a little. It’s followed by the sound of heavy chains being dragged, probably through the door handles. And then the only noise is our collective breathing.
Eventually, we all stop staring at the doors. They don’t open again.
The silence continues while we all drift away. I end up back in the corner. My mind is a mess of worry, worry for Mom, for me, worry that I don’t know or understand what’s going on, or what’s going to happen. And despite him leaving me high and dry, I’m worried about Axel.
The problem is, worrying about Axel leads me around to thinking about our flight together, and all those feelings I filed away for later.
The wind in his stiff stone hair, and in mine. My hands on his rough stone skin, wrapped around him. His powerful wings beating in the small space between us. The elation of being so high, and moving so fast, with only his strength between me and falling. The thrill of holding him, touching him. Of having him so close.
I didn’t expect him to be so warm.
I also didn’t expect my heart to flutter like that. But underneath the panic, it did. And unfortunately, the severe lack in the available-boys-to-date department has me fluttering a lot.
I let the memories pour through my head, distracting me. There’s nothing else to do, nothing to keep me busy. Over and over I play them through, remembering the coarse feel of his hard body, his comfortable warmth. How his black hair stood up in the force of the wind. The strangeness of living, breathing stone beneath me. I let that linger longest. The feel of him. I’d wanted to touch him for so long. He’d taken my breath away, the first time I saw him, there in my clearing. He still takes my breath away, every time I see him.
I’m suddenly startled out of my memories, only to notice it’s gone full dark. Still no sign of our captors, Though we’ve clearly been here for hours. But what makes me look up is a sudden shift in the quiet murmuring of the crowded gym. I can’t put my finger on what, but it’s there. I’m too bored not to get up to find out. The noise grows as I get closer, until I find the source. It’s a gathering in the center of the gym, with some kind of discussion going on. I push my way in, curious.
In a way, I know why we’re all still stuck here in the gym. It’s not like the paras couldn’t have broken out hours ago, even with the doors chained. I mean seriously, there’re at least two minotaurs in the room, even after they took one and killed another. But they’re staying for the same reason we all live in Greenbriar. We didn’t want the war, didn’t want the conflict. And since there has been no immediate danger in being locked up in the school gym, I think we all hope that the Cigar-face and his boys will leave without any more trouble.
So I’m a little surprised to overhear the word ‘escape.’ More than once, from more than one person.
“What’s going on?” I ask as I reach the middle of the group.
And then I freeze, because she turns, and I can see right through her.
I mean, I know Illyana is a ghost and all, but sinc
e nobody has yet figured out a way to kill, trap, or really do much of anything to a ghost, I’m pretty surprised to see her here. Especially when she smiles at me, because we’ve never really talked.
“Kendry, there you are.”
Hold up, she was looking for me?
“Um. Yeah. So…what’s going on, again?”
“We’re getting out.” The answer comes with a nudge and a smile from Thom. He was the town football star, All-State running back. A senior when I was a freshman. Hair cut super close to his creamy brown skin, and lively, dark brown eyes to match. With a tight build and shirts that always seem to show them off, he was also every girl’s dream. Now he’s a werewolf. Well, I guess he was always a werewolf, he just doesn’t have to hide it now. He still walks around like a human, though. I imagine it’s easier to talk with people that way.
“How? Why now?” They don’t have to tell me, but I’m glad they’re humoring me. The weak human.
Illyana’s eerie smile flashes, and her answer is a single word. “Axel.”
I knew he wouldn’t have left me! Wait, how does she know Axel?
Thom smiles even wider, keeping me from exploring that question. “And now because it’s been quiet for hours. We’re worried about the others, and nobody likes the idea of waiting for the goons with guns to come back and finish what they started.”
Works for me, because I’m sick of sitting, and I want to find Mom.
“So what’s the plan?” I turn back to Illyana with my question, but she’s gone.
It doesn’t matter anyway though, because the plan chooses that moment to knock a hole in the wall. Brick and cement fly everywhere, the air suddenly choking with dust. And there’s Axel, standing in the middle of it all, moonlight streaming behind him. I shake my head, but rescue has never looked so good. He’s shooing paras out, so I make the wild logic-jump to conclude that the coast must be clear outside. ‘Cause I’m just so smart that way.
His dark eyes catch mine, and stay on me, even while he’s directing traffic. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to see him, so it takes me longer than it should to notice something seems different about him. But I can’t put my finger on what. I also don’t have time to figure it out, what with the whole escaping thing going on.
I know I shouldn’t, but I let everyone leave before me. The whole time, Axel waits, watching me, like he knows what I’m thinking. I don’t even really know why I’m waiting, but I have this weird need to make sure everyone gets out. Maybe part of me feels a smidge of responsibility, or guilt, since it was humans that did this. Maybe. Whatever the reason, I’m the last one out, scanning the dark gym and its broken bleachers as I go.
I still want to know why they put us in here.
Axel backs out of his hole in the wall as I approach him, and into the shadows outside the gym. “Where are we headed?”
“The clearing.” He answers like I shouldn’t have had to ask.
“But what about—”
He cuts me off with a wave of his hand. “Illyana and the other ghosts are looking for her.”
There’s definitely something different about him.
He’s still talking, his eyes scanning all around us, through the trees at the side of the gym, and the tall grass of what used to be the football field. “If you hadn’t been so set on getting yourself caught, I could’ve had them do that in the first place, instead of wasting time finding and rescuing you.”
I stop, and stare at him in the dark. Which isn’t as effective as I’d like it to be, but it’s all I’ve got. “Hold up. You’re mad at me.” I bark out a laugh, trying to keep it quiet. “I can’t believe this. You’re the one who flew me right into soldier central, and you’re the one who left as soon as it got dicey! If anyone should be angry here, I think I’ve got the rights on that one sewn up tight.”
“Kendry—”
Whatever he’s going to say, he doesn’t. His eyes widen, and then he’s too busy throwing himself on top of me, because the gym we left a moment before explodes in an eardrum-shattering, brain-busting, eyeball-burning concussion. Even with Axel’s hands over my ears, I can’t hear. I don’t think he covered them in time. Also, I think they’re bleeding. They’re definitely ringing.
For a moment, everything is ringing. The light of the explosion fades, flames mushrooming into the night sky. I see concrete and mortar falling from the sky, see Axel’s lips moving in slow motion as he pushes up away from me to search our surroundings.
Then the world snaps back.
“Are you alright?!”
Oh goody, I can hear again.
“Yes, but if you don’t stop yelling, you won’t be. Ugh. I guess I know why they had us in there, now.” Taking stock of myself, I revise my answer. “Okay, I might’ve been wrong there. Not so okay. Did you have to throw me down so hard?” My hand rubs the back of my head where it hit the ground.
No response. His dark eyes aren’t looking at me, they’re still scanning all around us.
“Earth to Axel, come in gargoyle. You can get up now.” I touch his arm, trying to get his attention.
And I freeze.
My heart stops.
I know what’s different.
His attention snaps back to my thumb, which is rubbing across the skin of his forearm.
Not stone.
Skin.
Like human skin.
Soft, pliable.
Fine hairs.
Pores.
Skin.
And then he’s up and off me, and walking away.
Shit.
“Whoa, hold up there, buddy!” I push myself up and run in front of him, putting my hand to his chest. I do it to stop him, an instinct, but he flinches away like I’m hurting him, and my hand jerks back too. Not the usual stone chest, either. Hard muscle. His eyes, when I look up, are hard.
“Shit, Axel, you’re bleeding.” My hand moves up to his temple where blood trickles down, and he flinches again. “Dammit, stop. I’m not going to hurt you, stupid.”
His hand slaps mine away. “I’m fine. Leave it.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re bleeding. You have skin. You’re a gargoyle, neither of those things computes. You know, one of these things, not like the other? Chill a second, and let me look at it!”
I reach towards his cut again, but this time he grabs my wrist, holding it tight. His black eyes blaze at me, angry, but I don’t care. I hold his glare anyway. I’m tough. I was nearly blown up tonight. The stony glare of my best and only friend doesn’t faze me.
And I win, because he backs off first.
Axel sighs, dropping his eyes. “It’s a scratch. It’ll be fine in the morning.”
One of my eyebrows goes up. The left one. The one that says, uh-huh, and what else aren’t you telling me? ‘Cause my shit-o-meter is going gangbusters. But I don’t say it, because I’m pretty sure he knows. “Can I have my hand back now?”
He brings my hand down low enough to look at it, his thumb in my palm tracing lazy circles. It’s hard to stay mad with someone doing that. It’s hard to do much of anything with someone doing that. Especially when that someone is suddenly flesh and blood and too damn hot for his own good. All the memories I spent the day poring over come flooding back.
“You’re supposed to be stone, Axel,” I say softly. “How are you not?”
He drops my hand and stalks off without a word. I’m left watching him disappear into the night, my mind still swirling and that funny feeling in my stomach that isn’t actually in my stomach at all.
Damn him.
Behind me, what’s left of the gym still burns. In front of me, there’s an enigmatic gargoyle who’s pissed off at me for asking questions, who abandoned me only to rescue and then leave me again. Oh, and a clearing that should be quiet, but will instead be full of the same paras I’ve been cooped up with all day.
I’d rather sit here on the grass and watch the gym burn through the trees than be around anyone right now. Not with my thoughts spinning th
e way they are. But if there’s any chance at all of Cigar-face and his boys coming back, this isn’t at all where I want to be. Mostly.
So instead of plopping straight to the ground like I want, I force my feet to move me forward.
My clearing is even fuller than I expected. And it’s really loud, because all the paras in it are talking at the same time. Arguing, more like. Frankly, I wish my hearing hadn’t come back. It’s still ringing a little, and the noise makes my head hurt.
Really, the arguing seems pointless. The militia have left. They took what they wanted, along with a dozen or so paras, and almost all the humans from Greenbriar.
Including my mom.
So with everybody still yelling, I pack off. Axel’s hiding anyway, so it’s not like I have a reason to stick around. I’m pretty sure he’s in the trees somewhere, keeping watch. I can feel his eyes follow me as I walk off. But he clearly doesn’t want to talk, or be around me. Which is fine. I can do alone. I’ve done alone for a long time.
Plus, remember? My clearing. I know all the hiding spots. I made them, some long before the Uprising. The clearing has always been my refuge.
Thunder rumbles in the distance, closer than it’s been all day. About time. I’ve heard it all day taunting me, and I’m dying for the release, the electricity of the storm.
I collapse with a sigh, because I realize how cranky today has made me. I’m not usually like this. I can roll with the punches. There’ve been an awful lot of them today, is all. The hardest of which is how my best friend isn’t speaking to me, because he’s not made of stone anymore. Which is so insanely confusing.
And I really liked the feel of his skin on mine. Except, I’m not sure I like it better than his rough stone body against mine. How’s that for a revelation?
I give that thought a second or two before I push it away. Because I can’t keep the tears in. Even worse, I’m sure I look like a refugee. I’m sure the tears are leaving streaks all over my face. Which is freaking fabulous.
Screw it, I think. Crying’s good for you.
So I stop trying to hold it in, and let the tears come, running salty tracks across my face. I really want the rainfall now, too. I want to let so many drops of rain wash my small tears away. And almost as if my thought made it happen, the clouds finally break. Slow and soft, dripping through the heavy canopy, because our trees here in what used to be West Virginia are big and thick and close. Old trees, with lots of undergrowth.
ParaWars Uprising Page 2
