The Lofties (The Echelon Book 2) by Ramona Finn (ebook reader play store .TXT) 📗

up by the terrain. Only the faint glimmer of purple betrayed the presence of its dome. Ben slowed as the road petered out, but he didn’t stop.

“Feel anything yet?”

I closed my eyes and focused outward, into the gathering night. I could hear the wind howling, the spray of grit on the windshield. Our tires churned the dirt, crunching, jolting. Gravel flew up and rattled against the undercarriage. I reached out beyond that with the sense I couldn’t name, the one beyond sight or touch or sound. I stretched my awareness to its limit—searching for static, that senseless, wordless signal that warned of the presence of advanced nanobots. Of Lazrad’s new weapons, with their deadly homing bolts. I could feel Ben’s blaster, buzzing at his hip. I could feel Stillwater’s stockpile, back the way we’d come. Beyond that—

“Myla?”

Something caught at my senses, off to the west. I felt it, just faintly, like an itch at the base of my skull.

“That way,” I said.

Ben spun the wheel, and we swung west. I squinted into the sunset.

“It feels far.” I closed my eyes again and frowned. The signal felt weak, like a radio tuned between stations. “What did you do?”

Ben smirked. “Give up?”

“Hardly.” My head pulsed and vibrated as the signal waxed and waned. Ben’s training regimen wasn’t half as fun as Lock’s, but I could feel my senses sharpening. Three weeks ago, I’d struggled to find a blaster hidden just outside camp. Yesterday, I’d dug up three of them, tracking their call up the mountain, into a mossy cave. Soon, I’d be living radar, a built-in alarm, should the Decemites come to Stillwater. Soon, but—

A horn honked, jolting me from my musings. Ben sketched a salute as a truck crossed our path. I frowned.

“Who was that?”

“Jay and Irina, out of Blackwell. You’ll meet them later.”

My eyes narrowed. “Will I? Or will I end up shut out again, out in the cold while you plan your war?”

Ben stiffened where he sat. “It’s not like that. It’s just—”

“Security, I know. The less we know, the less Lazrad can squeeze out of us if she decides to take prisoners. But I’m not just some soldier. Other than Lock, I’m the closest you’ve got to a Decemite. When Lazrad makes her move—”

“That’s not it.” Ben swerved past a boulder, tipping me off-balance. I swayed into his shoulder, and our heads bumped together.

“Sorry,” he said. “But, listen, we know you. We trust you. If it was just up to me—just my aunt, even, or Starkey—you’d be front and center, at the heart of it all. But folks like Jay and Irina, or the eastern leaders, all they see is a Decemite. They won’t talk in front of you, not about anything that matters.”

“Like what?” I gripped the dashboard as the static filled my head. “More to the north—no, northwest. Where that outcrop is.”

Ben steered northwest, slowing into the turn. “Listen, I get it. Echelon was your home. Your family’s back there. But our pact still stands. I’ll tell you if anything comes up, anything you’d need to worry about.” He reached out and patted my knee. “Right now, the talks are just about gretha—who’s got it, who needs it, how we’ll get our hands on some more. Boring, right?”

“Depends. If you’re raiding the vents again, yeah, that’s boring. If you’re going for the Dirt’s stores, I’d want to know about that.” I bared my teeth. “I just hate all this secrecy. I don’t get why they won’t use me. I spent my whole life in Echelon, both Dirt and Sky. If it’s a fight they want—”

“I know.” Ben let out a harsh breath. “I’m on your side, okay? I’m talking you up. It’s taking time to sink in, but now everyone’s here—”

I doubled over the dashboard, spine crackling with static. Copper pooled in my mouth—I’d bitten my tongue. I swallowed and spluttered, pounded my fist on the seat.

“Stop. Stop here.”

Ben slammed on the brakes and I jumped out of the truck. All my senses were jangling, all my nerves firing at once. I spun in place, wobbling, like the needle on a compass. I could feel it now, under the earth, like a part of me gone missing, calling me to itself. I lurched toward it, legs weak.

“Here.” I dropped to my knees, scrabbling at the sand. Ben helped me dig. I could hear his teeth chattering, but I felt hot, the blood boiling in my veins. Close—I was close, and I scrabbled harder. My nails scraped something plasticky, the slick glide of vinyl. I pulled out a lead blanket and tossed it aside, plunged my hands underneath and sighed with relief. The static cut out as I closed my hands on the blasters. Ben got his arms around me before I could crumple.

“You okay?” He pushed my hair out of my face. I followed his palm, burying my face in its coolness.

“It’s intense,” I managed. “Opening myself up like that. Letting it all in. I think, with that blanket there—”

“It all hit you at once?”

I nodded. Ben was stroking me, running his fingers through my hair. It felt good, felt comforting, but with the static out of my head, other sensations were crowding in. The wind had picked up, flinging grit in my face. My shirt was plastered to my back, damp with cold sweat. My toes were numb, my fingers tingling.

“It’s freezing out here.”

“You’re just noticing now?” Ben’s laugh came out thin, the wind whisking it away. He draped his jacket over my shoulders. “Let’s get you back in the truck.”

Ben grabbed the blanket, and I gathered the blasters. We piled back inside, and Ben cranked the heat. I spread my hands over the vents with a sigh. It felt good to get warm, to be out of the storm. I shook the sand from my hair and felt it trickle down my neck. Something bit me, and I slapped it off.

“Sandfly?” Ben grimaced.

“Ugh. They’re the worst. These sandstorms, I swear—”

“Sandstorms?” Ben laughed. “This is