Exile (The Oneness Cycle) Read Online Free

overhead was clear and the bay calm; the storm had vanished as storms always did. But here it was dark, shadows extending from the closely constructed buildings. Boat masts stuck up behind them, bobbing slightly.
    “Hello?” April called, worming her way between a couple of especially tight shacks. The bike lay abandoned outside them. The passage was narrow enough that she had to angle herself slightly to get through, and the slopes of both roofs met in the middle to plunge the space into shadow. Old plastic bottles and a gas can littered it. She could see a door on one side, closed, but definitely there.
    She stared intently at it and saw a sparkle of light from beneath the door. Yeah, he was here.
    With a tentative hand on the door handle, she called out again. “Anybody in there?”
    No answer. She turned the handle and pushed.
    The door opened easily. Inside, the shack was even gloomier than its side entranceway. One window, facing south, was covered with grime. It let in just enough light for April to make out the nets, stacks of lobster traps, and cases of bottled water stored in most of the shack’s space.
    The boy sat crammed between two stacks of water, cases piled six high. His hair was blond and unruly, long enough to hang in his face. He was ten, maybe eleven. Maybe thirteen. April hadn’t been able to guess his age, and she hadn’t asked.
    April took a step closer, holding out her hand like an offering. “Hey, Nick, are you okay?” she asked. Knowing full well he wasn’t.
    “What are you doing here?” he asked. His voice quavering.
    “I saw you riding down here … thought you might ride right into the bay.”
    He smiled at that. “I’m a good rider.”
    “So,” April asked, “you come here a lot?”
    “Most days.”
    “What’s the attraction?”
    Nick shrugged. “It’s quiet.”
    She let her eyes leave his face for a moment and noticed a stack of comic books shoved under the pallet of water. The space where he was sitting was less dusty, less cobwebbed, than most corners of the shack. Quiet. April thought of all the times she’d seen him tearing down here on his bike and wondered what kind of noise he was running from. Her own memories gave her plenty to work with—broken glass, shouting. The curses and the names. She grimaced. She’d excise it all in a heartbeat if she could—all of life before the Oneness. But Richard said her past was why she could see like she could—why, in this case, she was sensitive enough to know a boy fleeing and hiding when others thought he was just being a normal kid, flying down the hill for the sake of adrenaline.
    She’d been reaching out to Nick for a couple of weeks now, finding him loitering around the village and buying him soda or lunch or whatever. She’d have to add comic books to the list. He treated her warily, and she didn’t ask him much about his life. Just talked to him and let him get comfortable in her presence.
    “Listen, you had breakfast? You wanna go get some food?”
    His eyes had that bright look in them. She spared him the need to answer and just reached out her hand.
    He took it, and she pulled him to his feet.
     
    * * *
     
    They were waiting outside the fishing shack, silent and unmoving as mountains. One a big man, well over six feet and built like a hammer; the other smaller, grossly tattooed, impatient. They stood on either side of the narrow passage between shanties, where they couldn’t be seen by anyone coming through.
    April knew they were there a second before she stepped out—a shadow, a sound, something gave them away. She thrust a hand behind her to stop Nick and said very softly, “Get back in there now.” She tried to follow suit, but the kid was too slow getting out of the way; the smaller man hooked her elbow and yanked. Her instincts blazed and she tried to turn on him, pulling on her arm and lashing out with her leg simultaneously, but there was no time; no room. She was out of the passageway, and