Page 48 of The Mist of Stars
“Huh?” She blinks at me.
“The death walkers’ eyes”—I reach to crank the heater up—“they were glowing yellow.”
She nods, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “They were. I don’t think I noticed it that much the first time I saw one or even in that vision we were in. But in the dead of night, it was extremely noticeable.”
“What do you think they look like under the cloaks?” Aislin inquires as she scoots forward in the seat. “Has anyone seen?”
“You want to see what’s under their cloaks?” I question, catching her gaze in the rearview mirror and lifting a brow.
“Ew, don’t be weird.” She smacks me in the shoulder.
Gemma chokes on a laugh, so at least I managed to break some of the tension in the air.
“I was curious. Like, are they human? Hairy? Scaley?” Aislin asks.
“They look boney,” Gemma answers. “It’s like they create a shadow around themselves to hide that they’re just skeletons.”
“In books, it depicts them as being boney, too, and their skin is kind of yellow,” Laylen chimes in, leaning forward and putting himself right beside Aislin. “They’re pretty gross, like half grim reaper, half sickly vampire.”
“There you go with the vampire thing again,” Aislin mumbles, trading a look with Gemma.
When Gemma notices that I’m paying attention to the exchange, she hastily clears her throat. “Well, gross-looking or not, it doesn’t feel great to get bitten by their chill of death.” She visibly shudders then hugs herself.
I despise that she got attacked, that I allowed it to happen. I should’ve been there … If I’d pressed harder to find out why she loathed me for all these years, perhaps I could’ve been. But no, I had to bury it down, turn it off, avoid dealing with emotions.
It’s what I was taught to do.
Along with many evil, dark things. Things I pretend not to know about, but the truth is, they live inside my mind, feeding and festering, craving to be free.
15ALEX
TWELVE YEARS OLD…
“Alex!” my father shouts, his voice echoing across the property that surrounds our house.
Birds scatter from the trees, and I envy their ability to fly away. I wish I had wings so I could escape this hell that I’ve been living in every day since I can remember.
“Get out here—now!” His voice is growing louder, closer. “We need to finish the lesson.”
I keep crouched behind a tree and hold my breath. My hand that’s gripping the handle of the dagger I’m holding is trembling. I don’t want to finish his lesson. It’s why I ran. I can’t do what he’s telling me to do.
The sky is growing darker as night begins to arrive. If I can make it until it gets completely dark, then I can take off and leave, never?—
Fingers wrap around the back of my neck, gripping tightly, and then I’m jerked back.
“You’re such a coward.” My father drags me with him as he storms across the field and toward our house. “Hiding behind a tree, like that’ll stop me from making you do this.”
I keep tripping as I struggle to keep up with him. “Dad,” I croak, “you’re hurting me.”
“Good.” He shoves me to the ground. My knee hits a rock as I land, and tears burn my eyes from the pain.
“Get up,” he growls, looming over me. “Now.”
I scramble to my feet, the dagger still gripped in my hand. “I won’t do it,” I tell him as I hold up the dagger.
The fading pale pink sunlight casts across his face, revealing his sinister grin. “You think you have a choice in this? You’re my son; therefore, you belong to me. And nothing you do will be your own choice. You will obey me—always.”
“I won’t!” I shout as I back away from him. “You can’t make me.”