Storm Girls (The Juniper Wars Book 4) by Aaron Ritchey (best books to read for teens .txt) 📗
- Author: Aaron Ritchey
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Maybe the worst of the storm was over. Maybe my repairs on the Marilyn would fix her. Maybe we really would make it over the pass, past the hogs, and back to Burlington.
A gunshot rang out.
My heart went cold. And everything changed in a minute.
(ii)
Wren laughed. “You missed. Dutch Malhotra missed! I never thought I’d see the day.”
I relaxed some. Just target practice, but I could feel bad omens closing in. Something was coming. Something bad.
“You think you can do better?”
Sharlotte and I walked around the Marilyn to see Dutch with two empty green-bean cans in his hands.
It was warm enough that Wren had taken off her coat, and she stood there in her blouse, too tight, showing cleavage despite the leather vest over it. She motioned at her boyfriend. “Throw ’em both. Two cans. Two rules in life.”
Dutch threw the cans. Wren drew both Colt Terminators and shot both cans out of the air.
“And what are those two rules, darlin’?” Dutch asked.
Like an Old West hero, Wren blew smoke off the barrels of her Colts. “Never let your heart get in the way of a paycheck. And always, always, always, get ’em right between the eyes.”
Dutch grabbed her, kissed her hard. Then laughed. “You are a smart one, but you’re also getting hairy.” He brushed a hand over her arms. “Were you always this hairy, or were you being a good girl and waxing? Or are you turning into a hog?”
Wren blushed, clearly at a loss for words. Yeah, that Dutch had a magic about him, an evil sorcery that my sister couldn’t resist. She didn’t say a word, but shuffled on her coat again, clearly embarrassed. I wanted to go down there and punch Dutch right between his eyes. Just ’cause I trusted him didn’t mean I had to like him.
My sister seemed to gather herself, then hit him with her shakti. “Hairy or not, I’m still a better shot than you and quicker to the draw. You want to try me?”
“Never.” Dutch grinned. “Always.”
Marisol watched them, sitting on the Audrey.
Rachel came over. “It’s foolish to be shooting your guns.” She motioned to a ridge of snow high above us. “There’s a chance of avalanche. You should stop.”
“If I stop shooting, I’m going to have to kiss him again,” Wren said. “It’s either one or the other. Did you ever kiss Pilate, Rache?”
Rachel colored. “I don’t think I should talk about this in front of everyone.”
“That’s a no,” Dutch said. “Or else she would’ve said yes.”
Wren clicked her tongue. “That Pilate, what a dog. If he knew Rachel wanted him that way, he’d have moved heaven and Earth to get at her.”
“Wren!” I yelled. “Enough! Marisol is here.” And I didn’t like the idea of Pilate taking advantage of Rachel like that. Newly human, or close to it, she was vulnerable, and Pilate had promised to counsel her.
But was Wren right? Had Pilate fooled around with her? I didn’t want to think about that. If he was dead, it stained the memory of him.
I climbed up into the Marilyn and checked the gauges. Almost there.
Then Marisol came over and touched my leg. She asked in a small voice, “Cavvy, what are we doing this for? I never asked, but now I’ve been thinking about it. I know the ARK soldiers want you, but why?”
I immediately glanced over at Wren and Dutch, hanging on each other.
No, I couldn’t talk about this in front of him. Not one bit. Dutch had said it himself: never let your heart get in the way of a paycheck, and what I had around my neck offered the biggest paycheck imaginable. I’d lied to Edger, but Dutch had mentioned the cure.
Wren caught me looking at him. She saw the suspicion in my eyes, and of course, she knew what I was thinking. She knew the last thing in the world I wanted was her to show them all the chalkdrive and tell Dutch it had the cure to the sterility epidemic on it.
The very last thing.
Yes, I was smart about engineering, and I was a pretty good leader, but when it came to Wren I was still so stupid. If I wanted her to keep our secret, I would’ve encouraged her to shout it to the four winds. And just ’cause she wanted to change didn’t mean she had changed. No, she was still as contrary as ever.
I wanted her to keep quiet, and so she did the opposite—grinning at me the whole time.
“Wren,” I pleaded, “please don’t.”
Wren talked anyway. “So, Marisol, Cavvy has this chalkdrive around her neck. On it is ...”
“Wren!” I shouted to cut her off.
Too late.
Marisol changed, right before my eyes. Her face went blank, and the light in her eyes turned off, like a light switch. One minute she was a nice but sorrowful twelve-year-old girl, and the next?
Something not human.
Severins. Micaiah had warned us, the Severins were the next model of cloned super soldier, designed by the ARK to look like anyone, anyone at all.
Even a twelve-year-old orphan girl.
Now, the friendly fire during our fight with the ARK convoy made sense. Marisol had seen a chance to remove Wren from the equation but had missed. And most likely Marisol had encouraged Rachel to follow close behind us in downtown Aspen. All to sabotage us from the inside. But now that she had confirmed we had the chalkdrive, she was following through on her imperatives with deadly, cold efficiency.
Marisol ripped me down off my Stanley, threw me into the snow, and in less than a second, she had the chalkdrive. My ears stung from the savagery of her ripping the necklace off me. I remembered how heavy and solid she’d seemed when I’d held her. How muscled. ’Cause she was engineered to be a warrior, no matter her
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