Learning to Spy Read Online Free

were actually called “acts of God” by the insurance guys. Us screwing around seemed like the best way to sink our chances.
    Jackson picked up his keys. “You’re right. We’d better get to school.”
    ––––––––
    A baritone voice pulled me from the memory.
    “Are you okay?” I looked up and Gallatin was standing right in front of me. His hair hung down over that scar on his cheek, but his other golden eye was studying my face. I could almost see that little shine in it that had made me think of a cat. I looked down and saw my milking was done.
    “I’m sorry,” I murmured, picking up the pail.
    “Did you work too hard? Your cheeks are red.”
    Knowing I was flushed only made me blush harder, and I kept my eyes on the floor as I walked to the churn. I lifted the wooden lid and poured the milk into the base with the first batch I’d collected. I could feel his eyes still on me, but I replaced the lid and started moving the plunger up and down.
    I heard him exhale as he took my stool over to the third cow. After a few moments, the hiss of milk hitting metal caused me to glance back at him. His head was against the cow’s belly, and he was working quickly to finish our additional chores. The scar across the back of his hand grew wider and narrower as his olive fist moved. He finished before I was done at the churn, but rather than bringing his pail to where I was, he went to the other area and turned his back to me.
    As he worked, I studied his back. In the coveralls, it was hard to make out much about him physically, but I could see he was tall and slim like Cato. He was younger than her but it didn’t appear to be by much. He sniffed and pushed his sleeves up, and I frowned at what I saw. His arms were muscular, meaning he’d be hard to overpower, but they also showed more scars like stripes up the backs of his forearms. He was an experienced fighter, but where and why? He seemed too young to have been in any real battles, yet these injuries were clearly old.
    I couldn’t spend any more time wondering because my work was done. I took the churn to the back of the barn where Oma waited to take it from me to the kitchen. As I quickly crossed to the door, the only sound was the soft thump of Gallatin’s plunger and the occasional snort of a cow. Just as I was leaving, I heard him speak.
    “I’m sorry I wasn’t more help today. I’ll take two tomorrow.”
    He didn’t look at me as he spoke, so my eyes moved around the barn. No one was in it but us and the cows. I nodded and then stepped out into the dark night.
    The yard was empty as I crossed it fast, almost jogging back to the dorm. Once I was safely inside our sleeping area, I leaned against the wall to catch my breath and calm down. My heart was beating so fast, I thought I might burst into tears.
    The pressure was getting to me, and I still didn’t have any answers. What did it all mean? Were any of the stories D’Lo and Braxton told me true? And if they were, then what? We had to wait here to see what these “aliens” would do next? I wasn’t sure I could hold up much longer.
    I pressed the back of my head against the wall and inhaled the familiar smell of our quarters. A hint of bleached mildew, the lemony scent of the standard-issue soap and deodorant we were all given. It hadn’t rained since we’d been here, so the air was slightly drier than usual. Still it was hot, and the humidity was always with us.
    It was quiet in the quarters except for D’Lo’s deep breathing and the sound of someone snoring that carried through the wood partition. I walked toward my bunk but stopped when I heard a sound I recognized. I’d heard it that first night I’d dreamed of Jackson. It was a sniff, followed by silence. Then tiny whimpers and another sniff. It was coming from the back corner. Adrenaline pulsed in my veins making me antsy as I crept toward the sound. It was Flora. She was crying.
    Her back was to me, but I knelt beside it and