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The Traitor's Crux (The Dark Powers Book 1)

Page 18

by Jessica Prather


  My voice is harsher than I mean it to be, “She was only there because of me. I turned her in. She wouldn’t have endured any of it if I hadn’t. We followed some guards when we did the White House raid that were talking about her… they said she was the hardest, but they finally broke her. Like they deserved some kind of award. And I can’t help but constantly think it’s my…”

  I trail off as the two girls press fingers to their lips.

  Harlow stands right behind me, pausing as she clearly heard everything.

  “Harlow, I’m—”

  She cuts me off, looking stubbornly ahead at Tess and Delia, “Have you seen Bryce?” Her voice is still raw, her eyes brimming with some unreadable emotion.

  “Yeah, he’s over there with Eli.” Tess looks back and forth like a deer caught in the headlights, eyeballing the door in case of a fight.

  “Thanks,” Harlow says quickly, then walks away before I can say another word. We watch her go, limping painfully. Her blonde ponytail bobbles through the crowd as I see her find Bryce, leaning in to speak.

  The three of us sit in silence as slowly, the crowd quiets down and Bryce and Harlow find a spot at the microphones. Nadine and Jay stand beside them, as well as a few other government staff. Eli appears beside me as I scoot over to give him a seat. Bryce smiles warmly, his eyes scanning the vast number of people. “Hello, everyone, and thanks for coming today. Harlow and I weren’t sure how to break this to you, but I’m going to put it bluntly.” He takes a moment to look around, a small, sad smile on his lips, “We’ve known that Reed has been eyeing this camp for a while. If you haven’t heard the news, after our break in, Reed’s hinting about an attack.”

  The room doesn’t take long to explode. “What are you going to do about it?” A middle-aged man stands fiercely, pointing a finger at the two leaders at the front of the room. “We can’t live this way!”

  “Trust me, we’re doing everything we can—”

  “Reed ain’t gonna stop!” the man spits, cutting Bryce off, clearly worked up at the subject.

  “You’re right, he’s not going to stop. That’s why we need to step up and fight back. We need volunteers to join our resistance. Anyone. Young, old—we have to fight back because he will not stop until he has every single one of us. We all have a duty and a camp to protect. However, for those of you who don’t wish to stay and fight, the leaders of various camps and I have been working on a method of evacuation. We’ve created an underground network, the safest place from Reed and his soldiers. We’re going to start evacuating immediately, families first and small groups so that it doesn’t attract attention. They will hide and protect you.”

  The man looks taken aback and glances around nervously. People begin to murmur. My brother, surprisingly, raises a hand in the air. “You know I’ll help. I mean, what can he do to me that he hasn’t already?” A few chuckles come from around the room as, one by one, people begin taking the bait. I stand with them, raising my hand in the air to acknowledge the fight.

  “Good, good!” Bryce says happily, “Keep it coming, guys! We need more than the White House plan had. We can’t fight back with only a few witches and wizards. We need an army! We have to defeat him!”

  I’m amazed at the sea of people, standing tall like soldiers. There’s at least a few hundred bodies, mainly young, but a few older as well. Others in the camp huddle closely, clutching one another in fear. I don’t blame them. I know what the President is willing to do to get his way, even if it means yanking children from their families and torturing them.

  More and more people take the stand, smiling back at the two leaders proudly. They’re willing to fight, eager to protect our world. Hope flutters in my chest and I can’t help but smile to myself. Together, we will stop him.

  I want to see his face when he dies, when he sees what it feels like to die a slow, painful death, just like those that were murdered at his hands.

  We’re the ones Reed will be afraid of, the ones that will destroy him and his legacy, once and for all. An electric energy overcomes the room, as slowly, a chant begins to rise, louder and louder, echoing off the walls. We can do this. We are one.

  33 EVACUATIONS BEGIN ALMOST immediately the next day. All but the handful of witches and wizards in the resistance will be moving on to different camps across the country. Reed has been to this one before and I’m sure it won’t take long for his soldiers to find a way to break our border. The sooner we can get people out, the better.

  From my room, I can hear doors opening and closing as people stream through the halls. I can hear their voices echoing as they hurry—eager to get away from immediate danger, ready to move on to their new life.

  When I get to the mess hall for breakfast, I find the room nearly empty. Most people ate earlier so they could start packing. With a book tucked under my arm, I find a plush booth nestled in the corner. It faces out, so that I can see the rest of the world as it passes by. I order myself a coffee and oatmeal, distracting myself in the crinkly spine and old pages of my latest read.

  My breakfast pops up and I set my book aside, marking the page for later as something else catches my eye. The giant television that drifts from room to room in the camp now has popped up here in the cafeteria. I lean in, trying to hear the nervous-looking journalist.

  “Breaking news. There has been an attack today in Chicago during a parade in honor of the President. It is believed to be the acts of a terrorist group of magical citizens.” The camera flickers, now showing footage of the streets as explosions seem to hit each float, knocking people straight into the air as flames devour everything in sight.

  A man stands before the scene, looking solemnly into the camera, “Thanks, Judy. I’m here, in the streets of Chicago, which are wild with fear and destruction after an earlier terrorist attack. The President spoke about the issue today, calling it an unspeakable act against the human race. The people are calling for action, and surprisingly, so is this magic world. As it turns out, magical soldiers are lining up to help the cause against these rogue groups…”

  Fires, broken buildings and mobs of angry people are shown on the screen, spraying graffiti messages aimed at us. It now zooms back to the first journalist, wearing a frown as she begins to talk. “Thank you, Jim. Although we do not have one for each individual escaped prisoner, we have mugshots for those considered the most dangerous witches and wizards. Please, if you come across them, do not try to engage with them. Call your local police immediately and they will take care of the situation.”

  Mug shots pop up, making my stomach reel uneasily. Harlow, Eli, and even a few little kids that were found inside the prisons.

  I’m suddenly not hungry. I grab my book and scoot out from the booth as the journalist calls their names, describing them one by one. In the lobby, I break into a sprint, not even bothering to stop as I accidentally slam shoulders with a young girl. I can hear her angry shouts, but keep going, determined to find Bryce.

  I don’t stop when I reach Julie’s counter, but slide around it and dart around the corner. He’s not here.

  “Where’s Bryce?” I can’t control the fear in my voice, which obviously worries Julie. Her eyes are round with fear as she takes me in like an insane person.

  “Then is someone here?” I demand again, slowing my words for emphasis.

  “Harlow is,” Says Julie simply, examining her nail beds.

  I don’t respond. I run to Harlow’s door and knock loudly. “Hello?”

  She looks up briefly as I enter, then immediately glances back at her work. “Go away.”

  “Harlow, please!” I beg, “Listen to me!”

  “Listen to you?” she scoffs, pen pausing in mid-air, “You’re lucky I’m in too much pain to kill you.”

  “I know, and you have to believe how sorry I am—”

  “Well, in that case…” she sucks on her teeth, “I don’t care. Tell me what you have to say and leave me alone.”

  “Fine,” I lean back in my chair with a
sigh, “I saw the news in the cafeteria today. There was an attack in Chicago and they’re blaming us. It said there are more dark-magic soldiers enlisting, Harlow. What does that tell us? His army is growing stronger!”

  She takes it in silently, thinking for a moment before she speaks again. “Okay, is that all?”

  “What?” I stammer, surprised at her calm exterior.

  “I asked you if that’s all,” she says a little more sternly this time, the old Harlow poking through.

  “Harlow, I don’t think you understand. They have your mugshots, descriptions everywhere. We have to do something.”

  “No…” she scoffs, “We aren’t doing anything, I am. You can go talk about how bad you feel with Tess and Delia if you want. I’m sure they’ll listen.”

  “Look,” I slam my hands down on her desk, trying to catch her attention as she jots something down on a notepad, “You know how sorry I am. I did something horrible and can never make it up to you. But I want to at least try to make things better.”

  “Oh yeah?” Fire suddenly rages in her blue eyes, “That’s really great of you. Really great. Why don’t you go tell that to someone else? I’m done with you. You had your chance. I offered it to you myself and you lied to my face. You don’t know anything about what Reed is capable of. You tell everyone you did it for your family? That’s really sweet, Reed’s all about family. He has my brother—remember him, from visiting my memories? Yeah. Well he works for Reed now. My sweet baby brother is one of his best, hate-filled soldiers.”

  Tears fill her eyes, desperate and angry, “He got a turn with the fun new torture device, just for us magical people. Oh, yeah, it’s wonderful. I’ve never felt such intense pain; four whole beatings a day. It’s okay. They were careful not to do it too long—didn’t want me dead before my timer goes off. Must be an extra special death, huh? So why don’t you step aside and trust me when I say I am doing everything I can to keep him from us, because I can’t stop thinking about the things he can do. Just go back to your new friends and your brother and Bryce and cry to them about how bad you feel. Maybe they’ll care.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I finally whisper, feeling hot tears trickle down my cheeks.

  Realization dawns in her blue eyes as she bats a stray tear and clears her throat, instantly switching facades. She clenches her shaking hands into fists and in a breaking voice, says, “You can go.”

  34 THE TRAINING STARTS EARLY IN the morning when the camp is quiet and asleep. Winter is approaching fast. I throw on a hoodie and thermal pants to avoid the early morning chill, grab an apple, and head out the door.

  Everyone’s already in the training room, stretching and warming up as they talk excitedly. I choose a corner by myself to shake lose my tired limbs as I prepare for whatever this training session might include. I ignore Kenzie as she swats her ponytail from her shoulders and glares my way.

  “How’s everything this morning?” All heads turn in shock as Bryce enters the room instead of Harlow, who usually handles magic training. He’s surprisingly chipper as he throws his things aside and waves us in. “We’ll start with some fitness warm-ups. Three sets of ten push-ups. Go!”

  The group groans collectively as we drop to our knees and do the exercise. It’s been a while since I last trained with Harlow, and my limbs ache in protest. We follow the push-ups with sit-ups, planks, jumping jacks, and burpees.

  Bryce is the first one finished. He jumps back to his feet, clearly the only one energized by this whole thing. He watches until we’re all finished, cheering us on like an over-excited jock. “Good work! Water break, then we’re going to focus on defense spells. You have three minutes before your due back here.”

  I crumple to my knees, panting. Delia laughs, watching me from her spot against the wall, “Really, girlfriend? I thought Harlow whipped you into shape before.”

  “She did, but I stopped training when—well, you know,” I say sheepishly, taking a big gulp of water.

  Delia grimaces, “I know… I hope that she’ll be okay. I mean, for her to miss a training like this is unusual. It’s like she’s just… shut down.”

  I’m grateful for Tess as she comes bouncing towards us, a whirlwind of energy. She talks so quickly, I struggle to keep up, “Oh my gosh, this is so hard, I forgot how much I hated exercise. Why can’t I eat and not get fat? Then I’d never have to exercise. Why…”

  My mind, accustomed to tuning out the many rambles of Tess, drifts off. We’ve all been worried about Reed’s next move. He seems to always be one step ahead. His next move will be sly. It’ll be cruel and calculating, just like the President himself. Like my mother. Like all of Reed’s mindless drones. He has the entire country at his disposal. My skin crawls to think of what they’d do to us if they got ahold of us.

  Bryce joins me at the wall, batting the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. I watch him for a moment as I screw the lid back onto my water bottle. “So, we haven’t talked. How are the evacuations coming?”

  He gives me a contrite glance, lowering his voice to a whisper, “We’re pretty worried. The underground tunnels will only work a while before Reed’s soldiers track us down… we’re lucky that we have more numbers, but we still need to find a way to keep them out for good.”

  “They have dark magic, Bryce. If it’s anything like mine, then…”

  He frowns, “That’s what we’re scared of. They’ve been roaming the forest already. We’ve had to send our guards to go attack…”

  “What?” I gasp, “You didn’t mention they were here already… That means—”

  “I know,” he whispers, emerald eyes flicking to my face, “Plus we can’t find anything about that damn spy that you mentioned. Whoever they are, they’ve been lying low for quite some time. We think they’re just a quiet observer, telling Reed everything.”

  “Can’t you look at footage from the attacks? Something to trace their magic?”

  He shakes his head, “We looked several times. It’s the weird thing… it’s been tampered with. Harlow’s been investigating each guard, but so far, nothing…”

  “So,” I ask, as calmly as I can, “what do we do?”

  He kicks himself off the wall and throws his water onto his bag, “We train and we keep moving forward. It’s all we can do. Speaking of which—”

  “Of course. Go.”

  He groups everyone together and we get back into the session, this time, pairing up in groups of four for defense spells. Bryce walks through the aisle with the help of Jay, setting down bowls of water in front of each partnership. “Most of us here, save one,” he nods in my direction, “have limited powers. This means we can use and manipulate objects directly in front of us.”

  “Yawn!” says Kenzie, “We learned this forever ago. What’s your point?”

  “Thanks for the unnecessary sass, Kenz. If you’d let me talk, I’d get there,” says Bryce pleasantly as I snicker to myself, “Anyway, we can use anything, as long as it’s available. A trickle of water, for instance, can go a long way.”

  He takes a step back to demonstrate, squaring his shoulders and sprawling his hands. Slowly, they raise to the air, the glistening whorls of water trailing his every move. He brings out his hands to either side and the delicate arc of water grows wider, expanding until it crashes to the floor like a waterfall. We all jump back as the water laps at our ankles before dissolving into the mats.

  “See?” says Bryce, arching a brow, “Simple as that. I want to see you all try it with your partners.”

  ***

  I’M BACK IN MY ROOM, barely slipping a clean shirt over my head when the room begins to blare with a ringing noise. I don’t have to look to know who it is. Reed wants to talk. I hurry fast, yanking the shirt down and meeting the secretary. She doesn’t look at me, as always, smacking her gum with the same boredom I see in her every time.

  “Miss—”

  “I know, I know, just bring him in,” I say dryly, cutting her off without hearing the rest.
>
  The girl rolls her eyes at me, apparently offended, but rings me in nonetheless. President Reed’s face appears moments later, the usual glass of alcohol in his hand and a cocky smirk transforming his lips. “Ah, there she is. How is my lovely girl?” he says slowly, the alcohol doing its duty.

  I ignore his question and glare back, “Why are you calling me?”

  He raises his hand, large, with gnarled fingers and aged spots on his skin, “Please, Kenadee, don’t go any further. You knew the consequences of your actions. I’m sure you’ve come to terms with it.”

  Rage swarms through me, making me clench my fists. How dare he?

  “You—”

  He cuts me off with a raised hand before I can even let the insults come streaming from my lips.

  “Kenadee, we’ve been watching you very closely, and we weren’t happy with the results we got. We especially didn’t appreciate your part in breaking into the White House. Didn’t I give you enough warning of what would happen?”

  “You’re a monster. You thought you’d get away with this?”

  “Oh, now that’s unfair, isn’t it? I promise that all of you will pay and it will be entirely your fault. You think that you can just steal my prisoners from me? You think we won’t find you?” He chuckles quietly, as if it’s a funny inside joke, “I will find a way into that camp of yours and I’ll make you pay. I’ll kill each and every one of you if that’s what it takes. Miss Coria, I always get my way. Don’t fight it.”

  I say nothing else to the man. I can’t…

  Throwing his head back, he laughs at his victory. “It’s always a pleasure, Kenadee. Unfortunately, the next time that we see one another will be under grimmer circumstances. Have a good night, dear girl.”

  The screen folds itself away as I clench my fists, trying to fight the mixture of anger and fear coursing through my body. Why can’t he just let us be? Reed has dragged my entire family into this mess. I don’t bother to stifle my sobs. The device weighs heavy in my palm as I send it throttling through the air, slamming straight into the wall with a sickening crack. My heart pounds like a drum in my chest as the next move becomes clear. I will make them pay for what they’ve done.

 

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