Read Online Vs Reality by Blake Northcott - Free Book Online Page A

Collector? Heinreich ?”
    “I shit you not. He turned into this muscular bad-ass and one punch later – bam! ” she slams her fist into her palm. “That big bastard went down.”
    “ Bro , you’re totally one of us!” Brodie grabs Cole’s hand for what he assumes is a handshake, but quickly pulls him close until they’re chest-to-chest, clapping his back. Cole had never been on the receiving end of a one-handed ‘bro-hug’ before (surprising, considering the amount of time he’d spent in gym locker rooms), and definitely didn’t expect one from a stranger. “So what do you use as a trigger,” Brodie asks, suddenly more alert. “An injection? A pill?”
    Cole scratches the back of his head. “A trigger?”
    “You know, like what did you use to manifest? When you want to Hulk-out and start busting some heads?”
    Cole still isn’t sure what a ‘trigger’ is, or how he’s supposed to explain one. “Well I ‘Hulked out’ right after I got punched in the face, and was about to fall unconscious. So…I guess that’s my trigger?”
    Brodie barks out a laugh, holding his belly. “That sounds like a shitty trigger, bro. I’d definitely try to find a new one if I were you.”
    Dia shoves Brodie’s shoulder, pressing him against the column. “Don’t be a dick,” she scolds him. “Cole here is a noob. He’s never manifested before tonight. Didn’t even know he could.”
    “Well he’s come to the right place then.” Brodie pads down the hall and rounds a corner. Dia motions for Cole to follow.
    In the expansive kitchen a young girl sits at a table, clacking away at a laptop.
    “See that morose looking chick who’s glued to her computer?” Dia says. “That’s my little sister, Paige.”
    Paige glances up from behind square-framed glasses and studies Cole, disapproving eyes trailing from his running shoes up to his black tank top. She bears a striking resemblance to Dia with high cheekbones and piercing dark eyes, but her hair is shorter, chopped on an angle at her jaw line, cut shorter towards the back. Her bangs are looped behind her ear, streaked with purple. “Dia, we’ve discussed this before. No more bringing strays back to the penthouse. You see this,” she motions around her with both arms outstretched, gesturing towards nothing in particular. “ This is what the comic books refer to as a ‘secret hideout’. You know, like the Bat Cave? If you keep dragging randoms in here it ceases to be a secret.”
    “He saved my life tonight – I think that earns him a pass.”
    Paige rises, folding her arms tightly across her chest. “And why would your life have needed saving, might I ask?”
    “It was just a little run-in with the Collectors,” Dia scoffs. “No big deal. We handled it.”
    “ Damn it,” Paige shouts, slamming a palm into the table, “what have we discussed? There is no—”
    “Going out and having fun,” Dia interrupts, throwing her hands apart in frustration. “Socializing, drinking,being young and frivolous? I know , you’ve told me a zillion times. But just because you’re allergic to human interaction it doesn’t mean that I am, too.”
    The two seem to have an oddly calibrated relationship. At first Cole takes them for mismatched roommates who periodically grate on each other's nerves; not uncommon for adult sisters living under the same roof, he supposes. But it’s more than that. Paige, the younger of the two by what looks like half a decade, seems to take on the tone of a perpetually exasperated mother when dealing with her older sibling. In retaliation Dia seems to relish in taunting her like a petulant teenager, mocking her concerns and pushing the boundaries of her patience. It’s bizarre and tense and more than a little awkward to be adjacent to.
    Cole’s eye dart nervously between the siblings, wondering if he should quietly back-pedal, retreating into the hallway. He’s not great with confrontation. Brodie seems indifferent, rummaging through