Inferno (A Hotter Than Hell Novel Book 7)
Page 20
I can’t see more than my face in the small mirror which is a good thing. I’ve always been awkwardly tall and extremely thin with no coordination. Sit me in a spot, hand me a pen and paper, and I’m safe to be around. Put any kind of obstacle in my path and I’m as likely to fall as a new born colt. If no obstacle is around, I’ll trip over my own feet.
If you wanted to survive the war you toughened up and I’m the antithesis of tough in a world where only the strong survive. I have no idea what others see in me, so I continue staring deeply into the mirror. Eyes more gray than blue and my nose a little too pointed. In my opinion there’s nothing to attract attention and I only see the introverted failure I’ve observed a thousand times before.
So many humans similar to me took their lives because they couldn’t handle the harsh realities of the cruel new world. Some, due to ridiculous bigotry, refused to stand beside shadow soldiers and died as fodder in their unprotected militias.
My mindset is so far from soldiers who died in battle that guilt gnaws my soul. So many brave human lives lost. And shadow soldiers had casualties too. They fought and defended us while mistrust continued among humans.
Before I boarded the plane, a presidential staff member handed me a short overview of shadow soldier statistics. His instructions were to leave the briefing on the plane when I disembarked. According to the document, our government thinks as many as two hundred soldiers survived with a low estimate at one hundred. The federation wants me to establish the exact number if possible along with breeding information. I roll my eyes at that. They also want the number and types of weapons they hold. No one mentioned this before the plane took off—it was all in the paperwork. My anger at their bullshit request for added information kept my mind off sharks for part of the trip. The government hasn’t learned a single lesson when dealing with shadow soldiers. We really need my father right now and I’m nowhere close to being second best.
The first mistake the Federation made was thinking they could control the shadow soldiers once the war ended. No, not control… use them for experimental purposes. They expected the soldiers to voluntarily turn themselves into the new government. The president and his cabinet thought the soldiers would happily return to the passive half-men, half-beasts who walked unknowingly amongst us before Hell’s War.
Not even close.
The nerve of the shadow soldiers I think sarcastically. They wanted equal rights, an equal say in politics, and the ability to hold office. When our military attempted to round them up, human soldiers died trying to enforce the will of the Federation. When all else failed, a treaty was signed giving the shadow soldiers their own country. This happened about a year ago.
Hellhounds decimated Cuba early on. Cuban survivors straggled into the US in the first two years of the War. After a few more years and no sign of survivors the island was forgotten. I have no idea who suggested the shadow soldiers take over Cuba but it worked and they retreated to their new territory. Close enough for us to keep an eye on and far enough away that humans feel safe.
If I’m honest, I haven’t felt safe since the beginning of the war and the shadow soldiers have nothing to do with it. I’m a mouse in a world of starving cats. I’ve learned to use the fear as an obstacle I can’t trip over. It’s in front of me continually and I move through my nemesis with finesse. “Yeh, right,” I whisper into the miniscule room and roll my eyes. I trip over lint.
After a mental shake and last glance in the mirror, I walk out and take my seat again. The government sent no security to accompany me. The pilot has orders to leave as soon as I’m clear of the plane. The president warned me this could be a suicide mission and mousy me hasn’t slept in two days. Greystone, the shadow soldier in charge when my father was alive, is dead now. No one knows King. He’s a wild card but so is this entire mission.
If I survive long enough to say we’re sorry, I hope to learn about King and discover what it will take to bring peace between our nations. Trembling limbs aside, we need the shadow soldiers fighting with us or everything is lost.
I came to terms with death a long time ago. Getting there is what terrifies me. If the shadow soldiers kill me I don’t want to see it coming.