Page 11 of Storm

“I wanted to see if you⁠—”

A creaking sound echoes behind us. “Young man,” a woman’s voice scolds. “This is a Halo-exclusive area. You need to go back to the market area.” At the high-pitched tone behind me, I still, a new anxiety taking over my body.

Wheeling, I find a neatly made-up woman in a grey dress eyeing me with distaste. She points to my wrist. Crap.

A faint breeze rustles the ends of my hair, and I know Noah is gone. The monster’s lair awaits. The door opens, and the med bay proper is blinding, mostly stark white with metallic accents of bronze and silver. I squint, taking a step forward.

Don’t they already know I’m lacking? It’s in my file. It’s in the colour of my eyes—light blue. Not grey. Not Halo.

The woman is talking, but I don’t hear her as she grabs my forearm and leads me inside to sit down on one of the comfiest chairs I’ve ever sat on in my life. No exaggeration. For the first time, my body shudders in pure relaxation, my muscles going slack and my lashes fluttering closed. This is what sitting on a cloud must be like, I surmise. Not the crappy misty ones that form above us during the day, no, the ones that make rain. They look dangerous, but I bet they are gooey on the inside.

“...arm here… your solence…” The words the woman speaks come out disjointed. On hearing solence, my ears perk up. Eyelids popping open, I find large, deep grey orbs staring back at me. Fucking Halo eyes.

I can’t forget that this is a Halo med bay and they are the bane of my existence. This isn’t a luxury. It’s a trick.

“I’ve already had my solence tested. My brother told you this already. It’s on my ID.”

She ignores me—nothing new—fiddling around with utensils of some kind on a tray next to my chair.

“A new rule was passed last week that if any girl or woman expresses Halo traits, including small percentages, their file needs to be updated.” A lump forms in the back of my throat.

1 percent. That’s it. They can’t want me for 1 percent. Less than 5 percent is considered non-Halo. Most of the women on these lightning fields have 1 percent Halo within them. It’s normal. I’m normal.

I’m human.

I’m not fucking hollow.

I’m not one of them.

“But what about the other…” A sting enters my lower arm, and I go faint, seeing the red solence exit my body. This is not like when they took my solence as a child. Last time, it was a pinprick on my finger. This is a stab to the arm, filling a vial, taking more by the second.

The nurse begins to speak again, tugging at my skin, but my ears are making a strange whooshing noise as I see the thin, circular contraption exit and enter my arm again, taking more solence. My dry lips part, nothing coming out. That’s mine. You can’t have my solence. It’s all I have, I want to say. Instead, my body fails me. My extremities go numb, and the nurse cruelly smiles down at me right before I lose consciousness.

CHAPTER 4

STRADDLING TWO WORLDS

“Storm. Storm. Come on, wake up. Fucking damn it.”

For a minute, I thought I’d gone to heaven. Nix has cussed me right back to hell. Coming to, I find soulful, golden brown irises gazing intently, his large form crouched beside me in the med bay. “You were meant to listen for my signal.”

“I think—” I look down at myself. “I think I fainted.”

He audibly exhales. “Yeah, no shit. Can you walk?”

I try to stand but fall back into the chair. “Sorry, I don’t think I can yet.”

“Motherfuckers,” he adds—for effect, I’m sure—eyes darting around the room. My own slowly come back into focus. The bright, incandescent lights are straining. Sitting on the cloud was not worth it.

He spots something and rushes away, then back to me, carrying a jug. “Drink.” Opening the lid, Nix holds it to my mouth. I’m caught off guard, and water splashes over the edges at his harsh handling, darkening my jumpsuit. Strange, almost translucent cubes bob around on top. I don’t have time to ponder what they may be as he pushes the jug to my lips. I take small sips, the cubes hitting my mouth and stinging them with biting coldness, the sensation so unfamiliar I barely register the alarm on Nix’s face. The fold between his brows is more pronounced than usual.

Ignoring whatever else is happening right now, I drink glorious gulp after gulp of water. It’s cooling me from the inside. Everything about this is so foreign that it takes harsh words from my brother to jolt me out of my fixation.

“We have to go now.” Discarding the jug on the table next to my chair, the rest of the contents spilling, he grabs my arm, hauling my water-drugged body into his side. I spot a glimpse of purple in my periphery. With Nix rushing, I don’t get a chance to look back. He’s almost running as he jams us through a thin slit of a doorway. My elbow knocks against the sharp edge, my nerve endings screaming.

“Ow, Nix,” I hiss. My mouth hangs open at his utter lack of regard. What’s the rush? And why did he waste all that water? Unheard of. His hand grips punishingly as he pulls me along.

Someone shouts behind us, “Stop! Keepers!”