Children of the Gamma

chapter one || iii

[ word count : 3,143 ]

"Don't move, or I'll make you a new nose," says an unfamiliar feminine voice. Pleasantly.

I'd be lying if I said this has happened before.

Against my better judgement, I crane my head back.

My attacker hangs upside down, the knife-free hand entangled in my hair. It's a girl with choppy blonde curls and freckles dusting her cheeks. Her legs are wrapped around the branch above her.

"How about I make you a better attitude?" I ask.

Releasing me, she lifts herself up and drops to the ground in front of me, face flushed red. My breath catches. She stands at my shoulder, looks my age. Her full lips perpetually pout, her snub nose wrinkled in disdain. Her eyes are brown, amber in the evening sun, shot through with a horizontal line of blue. Raised patterns scatter her arms, resembling spirals similar to April's scar. She's a mulatto.

My cheeks heat up. I know she's studying me the same way—taking in my scruffy black hair, my green eyes, my pale skin, and, obviously, the scars on my right cheek, nowhere close to fading.

Somehow I find my voice. Can't say the same for my brain. "You must be the new warehouse kid." I haven't been here for two days. Guess a lot can change by then.

Her expression clears, eyes softening. "You could say that."

"Yeah?" God, when'd it get so hot out here? It should only be getting cooler.

"Yeah. But you'd be wrong." She still holds the knife between her thumb and forefinger, swinging it like a pendulum.

It feels like her other hand is clenched around my throat. "Then who are—"

"No." End of discussion. "Who are you?"

And just like that, my infatuation vanishes. I'm never sure how to reply to that question—I aspire to be a lot of things. Who I am right now...it's uncertain.

"I'm a friend." I nod at the warehouse as irritation sets in. I just want to get inside, to that alien planet lightyears from Solada. "Ask whoever's home."

She leans forward, smirking. "Who is home?"

I swallow a growl, fight the urge to step back. "Get Dizzy or April."

"They're at work." False sympathy taints her words.

"Get someone else, then." This girl makes me want to throttle her or kiss her. I tell myself she has that effect on everyone.

"I don't think so." She stops swinging the blade. "I asked you a question. Who's in there, if you're a friend."

I take a breath to lower my blood pressure. "You didn't tell me where Dizzy and April were working. April street-fights after dark, and Spider goes along to patch her up. Dizzy takes night shifts at the hospital as a nurse. If they're not here, Dizzy must've been called in early, and April must be registering for this month's fights, in which case she'd need Spider to sign as her assistant. Sora and Kenji should be the only ones home."

The girl sighs, like she's disappointed in me. "Dead wrong. They're at rehearsal, and Spider's home, too. What a shame."

It takes all my willpower not to reveal my shock, my annoyance. I'd been making a point, and I know she sees it. She's choosing to miss it.