Page 50 of Retrograde

I lay a hand on my abdomen, mostly flat and unchanged except for the firm bulge swelling underneath my belly button. I look at the city in the distance, shrouded in its smog haze.

Oskar has a client somewhere in the centre today. If he hasn’t left yet, he’s going to get caught in rush hour.

A bright flash of light slices right through my eyeballs.

Groaning, I squeeze my eyes shut. But even behind my eyelids is white like burning magnesium.

Before I recover, a cosmic boom echoes, followed by the sound of glass fracturing.

My ears are ringing, and I get light-headed from what feels like a rapid change of air pressure.

“What the hell?” I mutter.

I look.

The window is broken all over, cracks like spiderwebs spreading through the glass. It takes me a moment to focus my eyes on what’s beyond it.

My heart stops.

A scream tears from my lips.

In place of the outdated apartment buildings, tasteless skyscrapers, and heritage-protected historical buildings, there lies only rubble.

A column of smoke and debris is rising towards the purple-tinged sky, the top rapidly spreading into a mushroom-shaped cloud.

20

ARON

When we arrive back at the caves, I lead Riley through the narrow opening between the rocks and towards the metal door. Her face is like a window into her mind, reflecting everything: her loneliness, her dread, her misery. I have no idea what mine would show if I looked in the mirror. My thoughts are all over the place.

The courtyard is busy, most men enjoying the sun—cleaning their weapons, training, going over the bridge plans.

As we near the cave’s entrance, Riley digs her heels in the sandy ground, refusing to budge even as I tug at her arm warningly. This is where my anger would usually flare—I’m expecting it, waiting for it. But it doesn’t come, and its absence is jarring.

“Don’t make me go back in there,” Riley pleads breathlessly, eyes darting in panic.

“Don’t make a scene, Hotshot.” My voice lacks its usual venom.

Heat crawls up the back of my neck. There are too many eyes on us. If anyone makes remarks I’m not interested in hearing, I’ll knock their teeth down their throats.

“Doesn’t what Lena told you count for anything?”

Yes.

No!

The truth is I don’t know. I need some time away from her freckled face, away from her irresistible body. I need to think, but I can’t do that with her looking at me all sad and scared.

What a complicated fucking mess.

And here it is, finally. My rage, like a familiar shield. Simple. Comforting.

“You’re not entitled to answers,” I tell her harshly through my gritted teeth. “You will obey me. Or I’ll drag you in by your hair and find a way to remind you of your place that will make you never forget it again.”

I crowd her, expecting her to take a step back—most people would. But she stands her ground, letting me get close. Too close.

Close enough for me to breathe in her naturally sweet scent. Close enough to count every one of her freckles. Close enough to see the liquid darkness deep in her eyes, blending into her fear.