Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 42253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
Happy rekking birthday to me.
1
Lyric
Meanwhile in Exilium…
“We’ve got company.” Willow lifts her head from the screen, her long red hair curtaining her worried features. “They’re coming from the mountains.”
I look up from the papers scattered over my desk. “The mountains? How’s that possible?” There’s nothing in that direction but wasteland and lava swamps that we’ve been able to see from the limited views from the windows. Behind us is a never-ending sea.
“Are they from the space station?” Zoe, our de facto nurse, squints at the screen next to Willow. “The ship doesn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen before. What do you think, Lyric?”
“I think I don’t care who it is, as long as they turn their asses around and leave us the hell alone.”
This is the first communication we’ve made with anyone. Ever. Not long after we became the leaders of this place and had barely begun to reach out to look for others, including Willow’s mom and my sister since they weren’t at the prison as expected, a massive storm hit, destroying something critical in our communications systems. We haven’t so much as been able to contact anyone or anything beyond the prison. Every effort to make contact has been met with static.
“Let them come,” Zoe hisses. “We’ve handled worse than a couple of pilots.”
“We’re in no condition for another war,” I remind her. We lost enough when we took over the prison. The last thing we need is a fight, but if that’s what these intruders want, we’ll give it to them.
I didn’t intend to become a leader. All I wanted was to find my sister. When I was a teenager, I lost her, and I vowed I’d find her again if it was the last thing I did. When we were growing up, it was always Aria who shielded me from our abusive parents. She sacrificed herself to the vicious hands of our father, and then to the whims of the masses to make sure I was taken care of. Aria had always taken care of me.
It was only fair I did the same.
After she was sentenced to life in the Exilium Penitentiary on the planet they now call Mortuus, I knew I’d do anything to find her again. No cost was too high. Even if it cost me myself. I spent years trying to find a way to get to Mortuus, but no human was willing to travel to the dying planet. Most people on Earth II were too self-absorbed to consider a flight back to their home planet. In the end, the only way I could get to Exilium was to be sentenced to serve out the rest of my life there, the same way Aria had been.
On Earth II, being poor is practically a crime. You either have to steal to survive or make a deal with the Kevins—my sister’s horribly manipulative and controlling talent agent—of the world. In the end, I did whatever I had to in order to get what I wanted. And I was finally sentenced to Exilium. I only hoped it wasn’t too late.
“We may not have a choice,” Zoe says, but then again she’s always aching for a fight. When I began to plan the overthrow of the prison, she was the first to sign up to participate. There always seemed to be a fire burning just under her skin, but we’ve never been the sort to commiserate. There simply hasn’t been time or the opportunity. In Exilium, everything is a fight for your life.
“Maybe,” I murmur. If the intruders were spoiling for a fight, we’d give it to them, even if it was the last thing we did.
Willow clicked and typed, studying the approaching ship with a steady eye. Unlike Zoe, Willow is always calm, cool, and collected. The voice of reason. “Maybe we don’t need to fight,” she says. “Maybe there’s another way.”
“What other way?” Zoe demands. Her dark, curly hair frames a delicate face, but her light gray eyes flash with a fury that is anything but delicate.
Willow pushes her red hair away from her face. “I don’t know, Zoe, but I don’t think our first move should be to shoot people from the sky. The solution doesn’t always have to be bloodshed.”
“It does if we want to survive. I’d rather not risk the lives of the women here, not when we’re all finally free.”
I hold up a hand before the two of them begin to squabble again. “We don’t have time to argue, so let’s not start.”
“What are we going to do then?”
They both look at me.
Everyone always looks up to me.
I didn’t want to be a leader. It wasn’t like I planned to lead the women of Exilium to revolt against the horrible mistreatment of the guards a few months ago. That’s just how it happened. Now all the women who reside here turn to me when there are problems, when they need solutions or mitigation or support. They rely on me.