fine. Jayden hates me, and I refuse to let him
know he bothers me. I wouldn't eat a bite of his food anyway. If I
don't kill it, clean it, and cook it, I won't eat it. It's that
simple."
Mom had angrily glared at Dad, who'd avoided
her irritation by looking anywhere but her way. It had seemed the
only person comfortable with the fact that I wasn't allowed to eat
on those days was Jayden. Taking his charades as far as I could
tolerate, he would wait until Mom, Dad, Gran, and Tawney had their
fill. Then he would pack up the leftovers and dump them someplace
I'd never find them.
Worse than making me go
hungry— periodically —was the way
he'd insisted I be able to run. His mantra to me was, Run for your life . He'd claimed
that if I could run, I could get myself to safety, so he'd forced
me to run in the heat, rain, sleet, ice, and snow.
This was the reason he was upset. As we ran
through the field toward the barn, he worried that I'd wasted years
of his training, which of course I hadn't.
"You preached run for
your life , Jayden. That's what I've been doing. We've
been here at this seemingly safe farm, but there's danger
everywhere. I haven't had you to rely on or to help me if something
happened. I stayed in shape because I knew it would be up to me to
save my family if anything happened. I've been here, training."
I quit sharing for a few minutes, noticing
he wasn't saying anything. Then I finished. "Don't get me wrong. I
haven't had anyone coming up from behind me and trying to take me
down. Dad would never do that to me. But I still remember that if I
can't take someone down, I'm to take off running. I'm not to stop
until I'm sure I'm out of danger. I remember that loud and clear
because you drilled it into my head," I reminded him.
And he had. I couldn't count on all my
fingers and toes the number of times he'd come from behind and
pulled me to the ground. When he'd done it the first couple of
times, I'd been too dazed to do anything but lie helplessly on the
floor of the forest. Then I'd come to expect it, and I fought back.
When fighting didn't work, I'd take off running. When I'd run, he
followed every single time.
Believe you me, he'd never held back
anything. He'd tackled me, tripped me, and grabbed loose clothing.
In Jayden's mind, nothing had been off limits because, according to
him, Everything is fair in
combat .
As if he were reading my mind, Jayden said,
"Everything is fair in combat, Carles."
Carles.
I'd not been called that in such a long
time. He was the only person who called me by my real name, if you
didn't count my parents when they were frustrated with me.
It wasn't that long ago when I hated hearing
Jayden use my real name as much as I hated him. Right now, I closed
my eyes and basked in it, in the way he'd said it so
reverently.
As if he's been missing
saying it as much as I've been missing hearing him say
it.
At that very moment, Jayden and I reached
the doors of the barn. Without a word between us and without giving
Jayden the first chance at helping, I snatched them open. I was
ready to find out what was going on, why we'd been called to the
barn, and what Jayden was doing at the farm.
The instant I saw my family huddled in a
circle and acting as if they'd never see each other again, I forgot
all about everything else. I didn't give a flying flip about ice
cream parlors, sociopathic presidents, survival training,
separatists, combat training, hate, or freaking MicroPharms.
All I care about is my
family and keeping them safe and sound… and together.
Chapter 5
Blame the Gunman Not the Gun
Carlie
Once again, the scene before me felt
surreal.
Dad's eyes were glassy and his mood was
somber as he wrapped his arms around my tearful mother's waist in a
way that made it look as if he were having to hold her up and offer
her the strength she needed to keep from crumbling to the
ground.
Jayden, self-proclaimed king of the world
and Surrogate Soldier extraordinaire, was as muted as me by
know he bothers me. I wouldn't eat a bite of his food anyway. If I
don't kill it, clean it, and cook it, I won't eat it. It's that
simple."
Mom had angrily glared at Dad, who'd avoided
her irritation by looking anywhere but her way. It had seemed the
only person comfortable with the fact that I wasn't allowed to eat
on those days was Jayden. Taking his charades as far as I could
tolerate, he would wait until Mom, Dad, Gran, and Tawney had their
fill. Then he would pack up the leftovers and dump them someplace
I'd never find them.
Worse than making me go
hungry— periodically —was the way
he'd insisted I be able to run. His mantra to me was, Run for your life . He'd claimed
that if I could run, I could get myself to safety, so he'd forced
me to run in the heat, rain, sleet, ice, and snow.
This was the reason he was upset. As we ran
through the field toward the barn, he worried that I'd wasted years
of his training, which of course I hadn't.
"You preached run for
your life , Jayden. That's what I've been doing. We've
been here at this seemingly safe farm, but there's danger
everywhere. I haven't had you to rely on or to help me if something
happened. I stayed in shape because I knew it would be up to me to
save my family if anything happened. I've been here, training."
I quit sharing for a few minutes, noticing
he wasn't saying anything. Then I finished. "Don't get me wrong. I
haven't had anyone coming up from behind me and trying to take me
down. Dad would never do that to me. But I still remember that if I
can't take someone down, I'm to take off running. I'm not to stop
until I'm sure I'm out of danger. I remember that loud and clear
because you drilled it into my head," I reminded him.
And he had. I couldn't count on all my
fingers and toes the number of times he'd come from behind and
pulled me to the ground. When he'd done it the first couple of
times, I'd been too dazed to do anything but lie helplessly on the
floor of the forest. Then I'd come to expect it, and I fought back.
When fighting didn't work, I'd take off running. When I'd run, he
followed every single time.
Believe you me, he'd never held back
anything. He'd tackled me, tripped me, and grabbed loose clothing.
In Jayden's mind, nothing had been off limits because, according to
him, Everything is fair in
combat .
As if he were reading my mind, Jayden said,
"Everything is fair in combat, Carles."
Carles.
I'd not been called that in such a long
time. He was the only person who called me by my real name, if you
didn't count my parents when they were frustrated with me.
It wasn't that long ago when I hated hearing
Jayden use my real name as much as I hated him. Right now, I closed
my eyes and basked in it, in the way he'd said it so
reverently.
As if he's been missing
saying it as much as I've been missing hearing him say
it.
At that very moment, Jayden and I reached
the doors of the barn. Without a word between us and without giving
Jayden the first chance at helping, I snatched them open. I was
ready to find out what was going on, why we'd been called to the
barn, and what Jayden was doing at the farm.
The instant I saw my family huddled in a
circle and acting as if they'd never see each other again, I forgot
all about everything else. I didn't give a flying flip about ice
cream parlors, sociopathic presidents, survival training,
separatists, combat training, hate, or freaking MicroPharms.
All I care about is my
family and keeping them safe and sound… and together.
Chapter 5
Blame the Gunman Not the Gun
Carlie
Once again, the scene before me felt
surreal.
Dad's eyes were glassy and his mood was
somber as he wrapped his arms around my tearful mother's waist in a
way that made it look as if he were having to hold her up and offer
her the strength she needed to keep from crumbling to the
ground.
Jayden, self-proclaimed king of the world
and Surrogate Soldier extraordinaire, was as muted as me by
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