Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 53529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
“This isn’t a joke.”
“I get that, but tell me this: Where’s Morris now? What happened to Paris?” Because I gave Morris what he wanted. Crisis averted.
“Yes, Morris sent us a message saying everyone’s safe. For now,” Kyle admits begrudgingly. “But he left the Eiffel Tower on fire.”
That must be some chemistry trick. “Well, at least it looks hella cool.”
Kyle narrows his eyes. “No. Not cool. Morris said the Eiffel Tower is a reminder not to fuck with him. And now that he has your powers—”
“Temporary powers.”
“It’s only a matter of time before he makes them permanent. And then what, Huff? What happens the next time Morris wants something? He’ll just hold another city hostage. Or what happens when he figures out how to make more Huffs?”
Shiiit. Kyle is right. One hundred percent. But he wasn’t there. It’s not easy to look a person in the face and then end their life. Also, Kyle isn’t afraid of needles.
I swallow hard. I have a string to pull on that might lead to a solution. How? I’m not sure just yet.
“I know that look on your face. What aren’t you telling me?” he barks.
“Morris thinks we’re going to be friends.”
“Excuse me?”
“I gave him my blood, so now he thinks we’re buddies. And he promised to give me a dose of the formula once he perfects it so I can give it to River.”
I instantly know I’ve made a mistake in telling Kyle because his eyes do that thing where he’s looking at me but doesn’t see me. His mind is plotting and scheming something.
“Kyle, whatever you’re contemplating right now, don’t.”
“But this could be good. If he figures out the secret Huff-sauce, we could give it to a trained soldier. Or an entire army.”
“No, Kyle. Absolutely not. Haven’t you watched, like, every fucking sci-fi movie on the planet with that trope? Never ends well.”
“This isn’t a movie.”
“Which makes it worse. The second one of those soldiers is captured, and his or her blood is studied, our enemies’ll make their own army of Huffs, and then we’d have to make new and improved Huffs.” It’ll be Huff-ageddon.
I suddenly think of River and how unsafe she’d be living in a world full of men who could do anything they like to her. And if you think I’m being paranoid, the night I was changed, she was attacked by a guy on the football team. I stopped him. Later that night he tried to kill me, and she was next on his list. All because he was hopped up on Morris’s juice.
Now imagine how people would react if they were exposed to the crap that did this to me. The only reason I’m not running around in a constant roid rage is because I’ve worked hard at staying calm. I meditate, exercise, and practice staying in control. Otherwise, I’d turn into turbo-Dexter. Also, my heart could explode. Or not. Really, no one knows what would happen now that I’m fully detoxed.
“The other side of the coin,” Kyle says, “is that we’d have the greatest army in the world.”
Is he for real? “For a smart guy, you’re a fucking idiot. Morris has every intention of selling his formula to the highest bidder, and there’s no guarantee that’ll be the US.”
“Unless you become buddies with Morris and convince him to give it to us.”
Is he insane? No one should have the formula.
Suddenly, my purpose has never been clearer. I really do have to stop Morris before he figures out the rest of the recipe.
I have to kill him. And then I really do have to die. Otherwise, this won’t end. River will never be safe. Neither will my parents or Kyle. As for the rest of the world, no one will ever sleep again at night, knowing someone like me can zip right into their house at any time. No locks or alarms can stop me.
I need a plan.
I tell Kyle I’m on board so he’ll get off my back. I’m supposed to let him know once Morris reaches out, and then try to buddy up to him.
Nope. Not happening. Really, I’m planning to… Okay, I don’t know what I’m going to do exactly. Part of this whole thing requires playing it by ear. What I do know is that I have to work myself up to killing Morris. I can’t fail next time.
“I’m sorry, little guy,” I say to the squirrel I caught in a cage just outside my house on the lake. The furry brown critter squirms in my hand, squealing and snapping.
“This is for River,” I tell it. “You don’t know her, but she’s a really good person. And her eyes are…dark and…well, kind of like yours.” I notice the squirrel’s tiny little brown eyelashes and adorable whiskers poking out from its cheeks. The speckled colors of its black and brown tail are really kind of cool, too. Awww… He’s so soft.