JULIETTE
I have eyes, two, feel them, rolling back and forth, around and around in my skull I have lips, two, feel them, wet and and heavy, pry them open have teeth, many, tongue, one and fingers, ten, count them
onetwothreefourfive, again on the other side strange, ssstrange to have a tongue, sstrange it’s a sssstrange ssort of thing, a strange ssssssssssortofthing
loneliness
it creeps up on you
quiet
and
still,
sits by your side in the dark, strokes your hair as you sleep wrapssitself around your bones squeezing sotightyoualmostcan’t breathe almost can’t hear the pulse racing in your blood as it rush, rushes up your
skin
touches its lips to the soft hairs at the back of your
neck
loneliness is a strangesortof thinga sstrangesortofthing an old friend standing beside you in the mirror screaming you’re notenoughneverenough never ever enough
sssssometimes it just
won’t
let
go
KENJI
I sidestep an eruption in the ground and duck just in time to avoid a cluster of vines growing in midair. A distant rock balloons to an astronomical size, and the moment it starts barreling in our direction I tighten my hold on Nazeera’s hand and dive for cover.
The sky is ripping apart. The ground is fracturing beneath my feet. The sun flickers, strobing darkness, strobing light, everything stilted. And the clouds— There’s something newly wrong with the clouds.
They’redisintegrating.
Trees can’t decide whether to stand up or lie down, gusts of wind shoot up from the ground with terrifying power, and suddenly the sky is full of birds. Full of fuckingbirds.
Emmaline is out of control.
We knew that her telekinetic and psychokinetic powers were godlike—beyond anything we’ve ever known—and we knew that The Reestablishment built Emmaline to control our experience of the world. But that was all, and that was just talk. Theory.
We’d never seen her like this.
Wild.
She’s clearly doing something to J right now, ravaging her mind while lashing out at the world around us, because the acid trip I’m staring at is only getting worse.
“Go back,” I cry out over the din. “Get help—bring the girls!”
A single shout of agreement and Nazeera’s hand slips free from mine, her heavy boots on the ground my only indication that she’s bolting toward the Sanctuary. But even now—especially now—her swift, certain actions fill me with no small measure of relief.
It feels good to have a capable partner.
