He stares at me for a moment, then turns and bounds into the brush.
When I reach the air lock, I square my shoulders like I’m ready to do battle. I’m covered in dirt, my jeans are shredded from my fall, and I have cuts all over my hands, but I don’t immediately return to my quarters. I go to the mess hall instead. It’s too early for most people to be awake, but the pilots are always up at dawn to run maneuvers, so I know Evlynne will be there.
Ignoring my aching muscles, I saunter in like I’m coming back from a retreat on Heath’s End. I bury my anger and paste on an innocent smile as I approach their table.
Gray, Evlynne, Luisa, and Henley swivel their heads toward me. Startled.
“Morning, everyone,” I chirp, which makes Gray frown because I don’t typically chirp.
“Rough night?” Evlynne inquires, watching me over the rim of her coffee cup.
“Oh, on the contrary, it was exactly what I needed. Sometimes it’s nice to be alone with one’s thoughts.”
I pull the backpack off and unceremoniously drop it on her breakfast tray. It jolts the entire table, sending coffee spilling across the surface. Luisa quickly mops it up before it pours into her lap.
“Thanks for lending me your pack,” I tell Evlynne. “Came in handy.”
Gray’s lips are twitching now.
“Anyway,” I say with a big, fake smile. “I’m going to grab a coffee and then a shower. Enjoy the rest of your breakfast.”
Theta-3
(excerpt fromA Living History: The Modified People)
Released in the early months of the Last War, the Theta-3 biotoxin (lab designation MNT-ΔG, see: Pan-Eurasian Alliance, xii) was engineered as a deterrent by the Lost Continents to stave off potential nuclear strikes. The gamble did not pay off, as the Continent retaliated by exacting a nuclear holocaust that decimated much of the known world. At the time of its dispersal, no one could have predicted the scale or nature of Theta-3’s consequences.
Beyond the staggering death toll, immediate effects were negligible. Survivors of the biological attack did not exhibit symptoms or noticeable changes post-ingestion. It would be several years before the mutations would manifest.
These “Aberrant,” as they came to be called, were the product of a genetic phenomenon that would stump the medical and scientific communities for decades to come: mutations not passed down through lineage but seemingly triggered by exposure to the biotoxin.
One in three individuals exhibited psychic abilities previously unseen in said individuals. Surviving governments responded by isolating the afflicted in training centers, which were, in truth, little more than prisons outfitted with neurocognitive labs. For every successful telepath or mind reader who learned to control their powers, there were dozens who did not.
Despite extensive genomic analysis, the so-called Mod gene remains undiscovered. Scientists have been unable to trace any pattern, marker, or chromosomal anomaly. Theta-3, simply put, left no fingerprint. It is the most advanced enigma of post-War biology: a mutagen without a mechanism.
Chapter 32
The Mods we rescued from Ice Canyon were taken to the valley, some of them housed together, others with current residents. I was relieved when I found out Tana would be staying with Seth and Beatriz. They’ve both been so kind to me.
When Luisa mentions she’s flying to the valley this morning, I invite myself along because I want to see Tana. I sit in the copilot’s seat, admiring the view.
“Your parents are wonderful,” I tell Luisa. “Every time I talk to Tana, she only has the nicest things to say about them.”
“Yeah, they’re pretty great.” There’s no mistaking the deep fondness in her voice.
“It’s good for her, being there with them.” I hesitate. “Tana’s been through a lot. I don’t know if she’s confided in anyone in the valley, but she went through something traumatic before she was sent to the mine. Beyond that, it’s not my story to tell, but I figured your parents might want to be aware in case Tana ever seems depressed or withdrawn.”
“My parents know all about traumatic experiences,” Luisa says sadly. “We survived the bombing at the Ridge.”
“I know. Your father told me.”
She reaches over to squeeze my shoulder. “You don’t need to worry about Tana. They’ll take care of her.”
Twenty minutes later, Tana and I leave Luisa and her parents to catch up in their cottage while the two of us take a walk through the valley. I was hoping she’d look better, healthier, but she’s as subdued as the last time I saw her. Skin dry and splotchy. Black curls tied back in a messy ponytail.
She doesn’t say much as we walk, but I don’t try to fill the silence. Tana and I have never been the kind of friends who shy away from the quiet.
As we near Gray’s aunt’s house, I spot Jenni sitting on the small porch with a tablet in her lap, her blond hair loose. When she notices us, she lifts her hand in an awkward wave. I feel equally uncomfortable as I wave back.
