Isle of Sanctum | The Aya Thrasher Chronicles | Book 1 |[Editing]

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

AYA

Dr. Marks's men took us up to the roof of the building. Brennan and I followed Lake, climbing up several sets of stairs. Once we arrived, I peeked up at the sky. Hefty clouds of pewter smoke drifted into the crimson-colored air, an explosion of chemicals. My nose twitched with an itch. Covering my face with my hand, I let out a sneeze.

Helicopters and emergency vehicles weaved in and out of the smoke. In the distance, they reminded me of toy drones. A patch of wind intensified the sulfuric smell of rotting, overtaking the stench of death and flesh. The insides of my nose were still feeling the effects.

"Do you really believe they're taking us to the Isle of Sanctum?" Brennan poked me on the shoulder.

Lake turned around. "I doubt it."

I shook my head. "It's really hard to know what to believe right now. Who knows if this place even exists?" I said. "Isn't it supposed to be mythical?"

Gazing out into the abyss of skyscrapers, I noticed a motion blitzer that closely resembled an old convertible car. Its body was a metallic blue with red neon stripes. The blitzer's trajectory rotated, so it was now heading straight toward us. I was just hoping it wasn't a prison blitzer.

"Nice ride," Brennan commented.

The vehicle screeched to a halt on the roof, stopping only a few feet in front of us. A breeze from the engine blew my hair into my eyes. Moving the strands away from my vision, I watched as its doors slowly opened, revealing a slick dark interior with several rows of seating.

"Please enter and choose any seat you would like," a robotic voice echoed from inside.

I was the first to walk toward the blitzer. Did this make me the bravest or the dumbest? My lungs felt like they were growing heavier, and a fuzziness sailed down to my stomach, giving me nervous jitters. It wasn't the blitzer that wasn't making me nervous, as much as it was the fear of the unknown. I had been in blitzers over a dozen times, and every time was basically the same. They were just big flying cars from what I'd been told, even though I had never been in a car before.

 The uncertainty made me feel sick to my core. To top it off, I've always had a nervous stomach. Still, I proceeded unaware of what would happen.

I chose a seat at the very end, next to a window. If I was able to glance out the window, I wouldn't get as nauseous. Waving, I tried to reserve the seat next to me for Lake, but Rayne beat her to it. So, Lake was stuck taking a middle seat.

"Please buckle your seat belts, and know that everything you say and do is being recorded," the robotic voice appeared again.

I turned my head and glanced at Lake, and she rolled her eyes. "Of course there's no privacy," she complained.

Once we were all seated, cold, silver restraints bound each of our wrists. Now, I was really concerned, and I couldn't even talk to Lake without being monitored. Some democracy this was. 

I leaned against the tinted window, my eyes grew heavy. I had taken my anti-seizure medication as we were going to the roof. It was a decision I now regretted. It always put me to sleep without a doubt. 

Eight years ago...

The window on our third-floor apartment was covered with a thick layer of fog from the crisp winter morning. My hand acted as a windshield wiper, trying to remove some of the fog, so I could regain my visibility.

"Aya, I told you to stay in your room," my mother's angry voice trailed off from the back of the hallway.

With my chubby cheeks pressed against the cool glass, I watched as my father exited down the steps of our five-story brownstone.