Prologue

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Christine Cooper wasn't sure what she had done wrong. The three girls in her neighborhood all had their own dolls that they had made from sticks and grass. She decided to make one of her own so she could play with them.


She put her hand to the ground and willed the roots to the surface as she had done a few times before. A few small roots broke surface and she manipulated them to form a small person. Using a small flame, she burnt the root so that her doll wasn't attached to the ground. Christine turned to show the three girls but they were already looking at her. Their eyes were wide and they ran screaming away from her.


She heard them whispering that she was a freak and like the reactionists as they ran to their parents. Christine's face turned red with embarrassment and shame before hurtling the doll into the forest. She sat on the ground and put her head in her knees, trying not to cry. She felt someone grab her arm and looked up to see her dad standing over her. He pulled her to her feet and back into their house.


Only when the front door shut did her father ask sharply, "did any adults see you?"


"I-I don't know." Her welled up tears fell and her lip wobbled. "I just wanted a doll so I could play with the other girls. I'm sorry."


Christine tried to wipe away her tears but more continued to fall. Her dad's deep brown eyes softened as he put his arms around her quivering shoulders. "It's okay, sweetie. You just need to be more careful."


She hugged his waist, letting her tears soak into his shirt. "Do we have to move again?"


"I don't think so, sweetie." He pulled back and wiped her tears away. "Now, how about you pick out a book and we'll read it together?"


She nodded, a small smile on her lips as she rushed out of the room.


****


In the safety of her room that night, Christine tested herself. She created a small ball of water in her hands and tried to make it into a shape. She made it into a sea monster she had seen illustrated in the book she had read with her dad earlier.


She had her tongue out in concentration and when she tasted copper on her lips, she stopped. She let the sea monster fall away, wiping her moist palms on her blankets. She grabbed the wet rag—she had ready for just this—from her nightstand and wiped her bloody nose. She had been practicing her gifts for a few years in secret now and knew she needed to stop when she started bleeding. Usually, it was just her nose but she bled tears too when she pushed herself too far.


Her dad didn't want her to practice her gifts or use them at all. There were people out there that would take her away if they found out. She was a threat to the only other people that had the same gifts as her. The same people that took over the world seven years ago.


Christine jumped when she heard someone bang on the front door. She got out of bed and shuffled to her door. She heard someone shouting as she opened her bedroom door. Her dad was in the kitchen, stuffing food into a bag.


"Dad?" Christine said, softly.


Her dad looked up, his eyes wide and fearful. "Get dressed and grab your go bag. Now."


She had never heard her dad so urgent before. So, she didn't hesitate. She bolted into her room—throwing on jeans, t-shirt, and boots. She was grabbing her bag when her dad appeared in her doorway. He shut the door just as a crash sounded. There was a rush of heavy footsteps and shouts. Her dad ran over to the window and threw it open. Christine's heart was racing as she went to his side. Her dad helped her out of the window and handed her the bag of food. He was halfway out of the window when Christine's bedroom door burst open. Figures in black rushed in, leveling their guns at her dad. From their bulky frames and gleaming helmets, she knew that they were Raiders.


They had found her.


Tears were streaming down her cheeks as her dad raised his hands in surrender.


"Run, Christine and don't look back," her father said softly as the Raiders moved closer. "Be safe."


"Dad—"


Her dad launched himself at the group, crashing into them. He yelled one more time for her to run but she couldn't move. She watched as a man slammed his gun into her dad's chest. She tried with everything she had to produce something—anything to help her dad. A shaky ball of water formed in her hands but it wouldn't move from her fingers. The trees around her shook and earth warmed beneath her feet. It wasn't enough. She wasn't enough. All she could do was watch der dad fall to his knees and called out in pain when they stuck him with a crackling metal rod. Her concentration broke at the sound of the electracy and his pain. Christine screamed, the ball of water falling away and the Raiders whirled to her.


Blood was dripping down her father's lips as he said, "be brave."


The Raiders lunged for her and only then did she finally run. Holding the bags close to her chest, she bolted into the forest. She heard them running after her, yelling for her to stop. Christine sobbed, willing her feet to go faster. They wouldn't stop—wouldn't let her go. The footsteps were getting closer—too close.


"No!" She screamed, sorrow and anger roaring through her.


Anger at being forced to run. Anger at her dad for leaving her. And a depthless sorrow for not being able to save him.


The world erupted in flames.


Christine stumbled and she turned to see that where the men were chasing her, only fire remained. Fire that was spreading quickly over the dry trees. She didn't let herself look too long. She had to get away. Had to find a safe place.


She had to be brave.

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