The feeling is entirely mutual.
“We need to take a break,” I say. “I can’t feel my legs, and my back hurts.”
“Not my problem,” Ender says.
“It will be when I am pregnant with your offspring, and my body gives out,” I threaten.
Knox chokes on his spit. Ender doesn’t react to my outlandish statement.
By my tenth complaint, he finally assents to a break.
“Fine,” he barks. “We’ll stop if you shut up.”
The truck turns off the main intersection, sliding down the dark throat of an empty road, tires crunching through dirt and roots. Pines crowd close, their branches knitting together overhead, blotting out the moon like smudged ink on paper, pulling us deeper into the shadows.
The gable-front house emerges slowly, cropping out from the soil like a mushroom. It’s built of weathered wood and pale stone. Narrow windows are carved into the sides, revealing an unlit interior. The roof sags slightly at one corner, ivy crawling up the walls, thick enough to disguise the security sensors embedded beneath the leaves. But a small red flash gives away their presence.
This has to be a military safe house.
“Is it okay to stay here?” Mercy asks. “What if something eats us?”
Ender turns around to pin her with a piercing stare.
“The only thing you should fear in this place is me.”
Mercy shivers at his words, quickly averting her gaze.
“Don’t scare my sister,” I snap.
He ignores me and cuts the ignition while I study my new enemy.
Ender Vale is a terribly beautiful man. Tall, big, and built for war. His raven hair is cropped on the sides and slightly thicker on the top. Dark stubble frames his mouth, softening his prettylips. A scar cuts along his jaw, old enough to have faded to a milky-white line.
At his neck, just beneath the collar of his jacket, I catch the faint nick of his implant. Every few seconds, the blue light stirs beneath his skin like a trapped moth.
Months after the regime seized control, a mysterious plague swept across the land called the Red Fever. It earned its name from the bloodshot eyes that marked the first wave of the infection. A noxious chemical had seeped into the waterways, poisoning the water supply. It was how Redwater got its name in Division Three. The laboratory stationed there had suffered an incident, though the chemical was never disclosed.
Entire boroughs fell silent within days. There had been fifteen divisions before, and now only eight remained. Some people perished immediately, others lingered in delirium, and a small fraction of those who lived were altered.
It was around the time the first few powers began to crop up. Some could manipulate elements, bend metal, or read thoughts. These powers were feared and revered in equal measure.
The Director’s Council blamed the old president, claiming that he developed a bioweapon because resources were dwindling after the war, and he wanted to reduce the population.
Bane Vale immediately established control over those they called the “Gifted”. Survivors of the plague who were modified were registered and trained, with dangerous abilities eradicated before they could be misused. At first, military service was mandatory, but over the years, it became optional for the Gifted. And only the Commons were forced to serve.
“What are your powers?” I ask, unable to stop myself.
Knox shifts beside him. He has the Bind, too, which means they are both Gifted.
He’s different than Ender. His hair is dyed a vibrant blue, and his left brow has a silver barbell stretching across his dark brows.
“I can turn invisible,” Knox says with a boyish grin. “Want to see?”
Before I can answer, he vanishes.
I clap at his performance. That was quite impressive.
Knox reappears in the same spot, bowing slightly.
