must think me gullible.
“What did they throw away?” Drake asks.
“Skins. Bones,” Burn answers. “Pits from fruit. Old clothes. Things people didn’t want.”
“Wow.” Drake sounds more like ten than thirteen. “BTD everyone in Haven must have been rich.”
“Guess so.”
“If they threw away food scraps,” Drake asks, “how did they make soil?”
“Yes,” I say. “Your story about garbage doesn’t make sense.”
“Soil just formed.” Burn’s voice is low and deep, but reveals no annoyance at our questioning.
“By magic?” Drake asks.
“No, not magic,” Burn says. “Things in nature automatically decompose into soil.”
“What’s nature?” Drake asks.
“Plants and animals—but not on a farm. Okay, on a farm, too. But not like the farms in Haven. Farms in the open air, not inside factories.”
“Cool.”
Hearing Drake excited about Burn’s stories, about anything, lifts my spirits and I start to relax. No longer straining against Burn’s bulk, his weight pushing against me starts to feel more like a blanket than a burden.
“How long will we stay here in the dark?” Drake asks.
“Not much longer.” Burn shifts his legs against mine. “We’ll wait until they’ve stopped searching this area.”
“How do you know where they’re searching?” I ask. “Can you read the Comps’ minds or sense their presence?” I intended this as sarcasm. But after saying it, I realize I have no idea what abilities come with Burn’s Deviance. All I know is he scares me.
“I’ve studied the Comps’ patterns, their routines,” Burn answers calmly, not taking the bait my tone tossed out.
“When we get out of here,” I say, “I could use your help getting Drake to our new home.”
“New home?”
“I found us a new place to live.”
Burn grunts. “That roof? You can’t live there.”
My nails dig into my palms. “You were following me?” Of course he was.
He doesn’t answer.
“I suppose you’ve got a better plan?” I try to move my legs. “What is it?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
“I’ll find out now, or we won’t go anywhere with you.” Frustration builds inside me, and I wish I could think of a way to escape this situation without relying on Burn. I don’t trust him.
“He’s taking us to see Dad.” My brother sounds as if he’s being taken on an adventure, or out for a treat.
“Drake”—I rub Mom’s ring—“Dad can’t be alive. On the off chance that he is, he’s a Shredder. I’m sorry to be so harsh about it, but it’s the truth.”
“Is he a Shredder?” Drake’s voice quavers.
“No.” Burn’s voice is low. “Your Dad’s fine. Trust me.”
Drake’s hand lands on my foot. “We’ll be a family again.”
Not a family. Not without Mom. My insides cave in like I’m using my curse against myself. An aching pain traces through me, but I replace it with rage. “Even if Dad’s alive, how can you be excited to see him? He killed Mom. He ruined our family. Ruined everything.”
Burn whispers something I can’t hear.
“What?”
Burn shifts. “First things first. We need to get past the Comps.”
I grit my teeth, but he’s right. This is no time to cry over what’s lost. I need to be practical, think of what’s ahead, even though it’s veiled with uncertainty.
I move my arm and the dating license digs into my wrist. Suddenly, it’s like the bracelet’s made of acid. I twist and wrench, sliding it down. The pain’s so intense I wonder if I’m breaking my bones, but finally I slide it off. Pulling my hand back, I start to toss the license but stop. I don’t want to hit Drake with the offensive projectile and—I’m not ready to throw out the past.
I shove it into my pocket. In spite of my disappointment in Cal, my anger at Burn, and my determination to survive, sadness creeps inside me, pinching and poking into every available opening. I’m tempted to yield. To let sadness overtake me. To complain. To cry. But
“What did they throw away?” Drake asks.
“Skins. Bones,” Burn answers. “Pits from fruit. Old clothes. Things people didn’t want.”
“Wow.” Drake sounds more like ten than thirteen. “BTD everyone in Haven must have been rich.”
“Guess so.”
“If they threw away food scraps,” Drake asks, “how did they make soil?”
“Yes,” I say. “Your story about garbage doesn’t make sense.”
“Soil just formed.” Burn’s voice is low and deep, but reveals no annoyance at our questioning.
“By magic?” Drake asks.
“No, not magic,” Burn says. “Things in nature automatically decompose into soil.”
“What’s nature?” Drake asks.
“Plants and animals—but not on a farm. Okay, on a farm, too. But not like the farms in Haven. Farms in the open air, not inside factories.”
“Cool.”
Hearing Drake excited about Burn’s stories, about anything, lifts my spirits and I start to relax. No longer straining against Burn’s bulk, his weight pushing against me starts to feel more like a blanket than a burden.
“How long will we stay here in the dark?” Drake asks.
“Not much longer.” Burn shifts his legs against mine. “We’ll wait until they’ve stopped searching this area.”
“How do you know where they’re searching?” I ask. “Can you read the Comps’ minds or sense their presence?” I intended this as sarcasm. But after saying it, I realize I have no idea what abilities come with Burn’s Deviance. All I know is he scares me.
“I’ve studied the Comps’ patterns, their routines,” Burn answers calmly, not taking the bait my tone tossed out.
“When we get out of here,” I say, “I could use your help getting Drake to our new home.”
“New home?”
“I found us a new place to live.”
Burn grunts. “That roof? You can’t live there.”
My nails dig into my palms. “You were following me?” Of course he was.
He doesn’t answer.
“I suppose you’ve got a better plan?” I try to move my legs. “What is it?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
“I’ll find out now, or we won’t go anywhere with you.” Frustration builds inside me, and I wish I could think of a way to escape this situation without relying on Burn. I don’t trust him.
“He’s taking us to see Dad.” My brother sounds as if he’s being taken on an adventure, or out for a treat.
“Drake”—I rub Mom’s ring—“Dad can’t be alive. On the off chance that he is, he’s a Shredder. I’m sorry to be so harsh about it, but it’s the truth.”
“Is he a Shredder?” Drake’s voice quavers.
“No.” Burn’s voice is low. “Your Dad’s fine. Trust me.”
Drake’s hand lands on my foot. “We’ll be a family again.”
Not a family. Not without Mom. My insides cave in like I’m using my curse against myself. An aching pain traces through me, but I replace it with rage. “Even if Dad’s alive, how can you be excited to see him? He killed Mom. He ruined our family. Ruined everything.”
Burn whispers something I can’t hear.
“What?”
Burn shifts. “First things first. We need to get past the Comps.”
I grit my teeth, but he’s right. This is no time to cry over what’s lost. I need to be practical, think of what’s ahead, even though it’s veiled with uncertainty.
I move my arm and the dating license digs into my wrist. Suddenly, it’s like the bracelet’s made of acid. I twist and wrench, sliding it down. The pain’s so intense I wonder if I’m breaking my bones, but finally I slide it off. Pulling my hand back, I start to toss the license but stop. I don’t want to hit Drake with the offensive projectile and—I’m not ready to throw out the past.
I shove it into my pocket. In spite of my disappointment in Cal, my anger at Burn, and my determination to survive, sadness creeps inside me, pinching and poking into every available opening. I’m tempted to yield. To let sadness overtake me. To complain. To cry. But
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