Читать книгу Earthquake - Aprilynne Pike - Страница 5

My pulse throbs in my temples—a frantic rhythm that matches the pounding of my feet. I feel ridiculous stooping to something as primitive—as human—as running away, but I can’t beat them in my natural way.

I should be able to. My sudden increase in strength terrifies even me. But that’s the problem; I’m too afraid to unleash it. Afraid of what I might do. The people I might hurt. It’s too much all at once.

It’s not right. So I run.

But I’m not really a runner. Not the long-distance kind for sure. They’re gaining on me. It was inevitable. It’s not like I really thought I could get away; I just needed a few minutes to think. So I took off.

What are they going to do? Shoot me in the back? They need me alive and we all know it.

With my lungs aching, I gasp to a stop and they surround me, all of us breathing hard. I’m not completely sure where I am. An overpass. No, one of those pedestrian bridges over a freeway. Cars zoom beneath me, the sound of roaring engines echoing in my ears as vibrations shake the cement under my feet. The people around me have drawn their guns. Obviously they don’t care about creating a scene. They’ll kill any witnesses without a second thought.

But I care.

I care, damn it!

I grasp at the gritty edge of the cement railing. As I lean back the rushing wind from cars and trucks bursts up, tossing my hair and ruffling my shirt. A semi passes beneath the already swaying walkway. The driver must have seen us because he lets loose the long bellow of his horn as though in warning, and I wonder if he’s calling the cops even now.

Not that it matters. It’s too late.

“It’s over,” the closest man says, edging even nearer. “Come with us. We don’t want to hurt you.”

It’s a lie. We both know it.

My eyes scan their faces. Each and every one is a person I would once have called a friend. Not recently. Certainly not for a dozen lifetimes. But once.

I scrape my palms on the hot, crumbly concrete, using the pain to focus my mind. There’s no barrier. I could jump. But they’d save me. They’re already too close.

Think.

Think.

The answer hits me, and my breath catches in terror.

“Sonya, you’re being ridiculous.” Marianna’s voice—belittling as always—strengthens my determination, even though my bones feel like water. I would rather die than let her have me. Than let her figure out how to become like me.

Because if that ever happened, gods help the entire world.

For the thousandth time I consider killing her. Killing them. But the delay would be momentary at best. There are dozens of them.

And only one of me.

Fortunately, there are also more than six billion people to hide among.

I close my eyes and a ripple of apprehension goes through the handful of operatives pointing weapons at me. I might have three seconds before they do something stupid. I picture my heart, beating so steadily, if way too fast. A sob catches in my throat, but I push it away.

And turn my heart to stone.

Literally.

The agony in my chest tries to force a scream from my lips, but it’s too late. It takes only a moment, maybe two, before I know I’ve done it.

I’ve killed myself.

And I taste victory on my tongue as everything goes black.