The Cousins and the Brunette (New Boston Elites #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

brYNN AND THE ROTTING VEGETABLES

A veil of mist hung over the crumbling edges of New Boston, curling its ghostly fingers through the shattered glass windows of derelict buildings. I trudged down the streets, my boots crunching on a carpet of debris that had once been someone’s home. The sky was an iron gray, the kind that threatened rain but held back just enough to keep you hoping. Stray dogs with their ribs pressing against dull fur scavenged alongside us, the resilience of life in the deterioration.

Sometimes it seemed like the city’s decay matched my own fractured hopes, each step a reminder of how far we’d fallen. But I couldn’t let Kay see that. She needed me to be strong, even when I felt like I was held together with nothing more than stubborn will and duct tape.

A loose brick skittered away under my younger sister’s worn shoe.

“Kay, watch your step.”

My sister, a wispy shadow trailing behind me, nodded solemnly. At twelve, Kay’s frame was slight, the angles of her bones sharp beneath the layer of too-big, patched-up clothes she wore—remnants I’d scavenged from the trash bins of those better off. Her light brown hair, so like our mother’s, ruffled in the wind, strands sticking to her face.

The neon lights glimmered erratically, creating an otherworldly glow that painted the city in strokes of artificial day and night. They pulsed above us, the heartbeat of a world divided—the Elites basking in their radiance while we existed in the shadows they cast. I gazed upward, viewing the lines of towering skyscrapers that clawed at the heavens, opulent and unattainable.

Those lights, those buildings – they were like a slap in the face, a constant reminder of what we’d never have. I wanted to tear them down, brick by brick, until everyone was on the same level. Except that was a pipe dream, and I knew it. Dreams didn’t put food in our bellies or shoes on our feet.

“Doesn’t it make you angry, Brynn? That the Elites have so much while we have so little?” Kay’s voice was soft with a confusion beyond her years.

“Anger’s a luxury, Kay,” I said, the bitterness evident even to my own ears. “But yeah, it does.”

“Tell me again about the Elites. Why can’t we just ask them for help?”

I scoffed, scanning the alley for anything of value. “The Elites? They’re parasites, sucking the city dry. They rule from up high, uncaring that people like us scrounge in the dirt. They believe they’re chosen, destined for greatness while we’re left to fight over scraps.”

Then I thought of our own Elite relatives, the ones who’d turned their backs on us when we needed them most. Family meant nothing when status was on the line. Their rejection still stung, a wound that refused to heal.

She kicked a tin can out of the way. “Couldn’t we become one of them? Change things from inside?”

“Sweet dreams, Kay,” I replied curtly, though my heart ached with the same wishful thinking. “That’s not how this world works.”

“Then how does it work, Brynn?” Her large, questioning eyes sought mine, searching for answers I didn’t have.

I frowned, pulling a dented can from a pile of rubbish. “I’ve told you before. Survival. It’s about making it through another day.”

I wished I had better answers for her, something more inspiring than ‘don’t die.’ False hope was a dangerous thing in New Boston. It could get you killed faster than a knife in the back.

She sighed. “Is that all we’re doing? Surviving?”

I looked at her, really looked at her, the hope in her wide-eyed expression and the grime on her cheeks. “No, Kay. We’re going to live. Really live. One day, I’ll get us out of here. I swear it.”

I had no idea how I’d keep that promise, but for Kay, I’d find a way. I had to.

Her hand found mine, small and trusting. “I believe you, Brynn. I always do.”

“Good.” I squeezed her hand, the burden of my promise heavy on my shoulders.

“Look, over there,” I whispered, pointing toward an alley where there was a heap of discarded crates. “Let’s check it out.”

The sight of those crates made my pulse jump. It was like stumbling upon buried treasure, except our treasure was more likely to be moldy bread than gold doubloons. Still, beggars can’t be choosers, and in this concrete jungle, we were definitely beggars.

Kay and I moved silently, our steps practiced and cautious. Years of scavenging had taught me to be wary of every shadow, to look twice at anything that seemed too good to be true. The city was a warren of pitfalls and worst of all…predators.

“Stay close.”

We approached the crates. My hand hovered near the small knife strapped to my belt—a meager defense, but better than nothing.

I thought about how ridiculous we must look, tip-toeing towards a pile of garbage like it held the secrets of the universe. But in our world, it might as well have. One man’s trash is another man’s dinner, after all.

“Anything?” Kay asked, her voice a soft.

“Maybe.”

I pried open one of the crates, its wood splintering under my grip. Inside were rotting vegetables, barely edible but still food. I grabbed what I could, stuffing them into my worn-out backpack.

The smell hit me like a punch to the gut, but I swallowed my disgust. Hunger is the best seasoning, as they say. And boy, were we hungry enough to make these sad veggies taste like a five-star meal.

“Why do you think the Elites never come down here?” Kay yanked at a loose thread on her top.

“Because they don’t have to. They live their lives in those towers and in their stuffy mansions, looking down on us like we’re nothing,” I said, my tone edged with bitterness.

Sometimes I wondered if the Elites even knew we existed. Or if they did, whether they saw us as anything more than ants scurrying about in their perfect world. The thought made my blood boil.

“Do you think it was always like this? The city, I mean. Was it always this way?”

I swallowed hard and sighed. “Once upon a time, New Boston was a place of hope. People came here for a better life. The streets were clean, the buildings shiny. But then corruption seeped in, like poison. The rich got richer, and the poor...well, we ended up here.”

It was hard to imagine this hellhole as anything but what it was now. The idea of clean streets and shiny buildings seemed as fantastical as unicorns and fairy godmothers.

“That’s so sad. I wish I could have seen it before…”

I stepped ahead, scanning the area for any other useful items. “Yeah. Me too. But that was over two hundred years ago.”

“Brynn, can we ever change it back? Make it better?”

“No. I mean, I doubt it. All we can do is make this life better for ourselves.”

Kay’s optimism was both heartwarming and heartbreaking. I wanted to protect that spark in her, but I also knew the harsh realities of our world would eventually snuff it out. Just like it had done to mine.

We continued our search, moving deeper into the various alleys. My keen eye caught sight of a broken drone partially hidden under a pile of debris. With a quick glance around to ensure we were alone, I knelt to examine it.

“Is it worth anything?” Kay peered over my shoulder.

“Maybe.” I deftly extracted a few intact components. “These parts can fetch a good price. Could get us some real food.”

The irony wasn’t lost on me. We were scavenging for scraps while the Elites probably had drones delivering their gourmet meals. Bastards.

“You’re amazing, Brynn,” Kay said, her voice filled with awe.

Her admiration made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t amazing. I was just a survivor, doing whatever it took to keep us alive. There’s nothing glamorous about dumpster diving and dodging danger at every turn.

“Just doing what I have to. Come on, let’s keep moving.”

“Where next?” Kay’s steps were light and steady beside me.

“There’s an old warehouse a few blocks from here. Sometimes we get lucky there.” I picked up my pace, adjusting the strap of my backpack. And stay alert. We can’t afford any mistakes.”

“Got it,” Kay replied, her small hand tightening around mine.

We made our way through the desolate streets, and I kept glancing behind us. I’d heard whispers of resistance movements, underground networks that aimed to overthrow the Elites. Maybe there was a chance for us. A way out of this hellhole.

The thought of rebellion stirred something in me, a mix of hope and fear. Hope that things could change, fear of what that change might cost. But then again, what did we have left to lose?

“Brynn, are you okay?” Kay’s voice pulled me back to the present.

“Yeah, just thinking,” I said, giving her a reassuring smile. “Let’s focus on finding something to eat first. Keep your eyes open like I taught you.” I reminded her.

My sister and I approached the warehouse. It loomed ahead like a forgotten relic, its windows shattered and doors hanging ajar. The building looked about as welcoming as a hungry lion’s den. But then again, in this city, even a lion’s den might offer better odds than what we faced daily.

“Think we’ll find anything good?” Kay asked.

“I hope so.” I faintly smiled at her, stepping inside.

The interior was dark and musty. I scanned the room, taking in the rows of rusted shelves and abandoned machinery.

“Stay close,” I instructed, moving cautiously through the space.

Kay nodded, her footsteps echoing mine.

“Check the shelves, Kay. Sometimes people hide things here.”

“Got it,” she said, already rifling through the clutter.

“Good girl.”

Every instinct told me to stay vigilant, to be ready for anything. We were two sisters playing a twisted version of hide and seek, where the prize was survival and the penalty for losing was... well, I didn’t want to think about that.

“Brynn!” Kay’s excited whisper made me startle. “I found something!”

“Show me,” I said, hurrying to her side.

She held up a small, unopened can of soup, a rare find in these parts. “It’s not much, but it’s something.”

I smiled wider, ruffling her hair affectionately. “You did good, Kay.”

“Thanks.” She beamed, her smile a beacon of hope in the darkness.

“Let’s keep looking. We might find more.”

I focused on my careful inspection of an old cabinet. The familiar ache of hunger gnawed at my stomach, reminding me why we were here. Scavenging wasn’t glamorous, but it kept us alive. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was all life had in store for us—an endless cycle of searching for scraps.

“Brynn? Why do you always have to be so cynical all the time?” she asked softly.

Her question hit a nerve. Cynical? More like realistic. But I couldn’t bring myself to crush her optimism. It was one of the few things we had left.

“Experience,” I mumbled, finally finding a hidden stash of canned goods.

Yes! This would last us a week or two.

In a broken shard of glass, I caught my reflection. The girl staring back at me had sharp green eyes, eyes that seemed far too old for twenty-one years. Long, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail framed a face streaked with grime and etched with determination. My practical, dark clothing clung to my athletic build, chosen for protection rather than style.

I barely recognized myself anymore. The streets had a way of changing you, molding you into something harder, colder. But as long as Kay was safe, I could live with the person I’d become.

It was exhausting, always being the strong one, always having to make the tough decisions. But what choice did I have? In this world, you either fought or you died. And I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

“Brynn, what’s wrong?” Kay’s voice sounded small.

“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About how we got here,” I admitted. “Our so-called family who couldn’t care less if we lived or died.”

The sharpness in my voice surprised even me. But the memories of rejection still stung, reminding me how alone we truly were.

Kay nodded. “Like Aunt Mira and Uncle John?”

The injustice of it all burned in my chest. How could they sleep at night, knowing we were out here struggling to survive?

My hands clenched at my sides. “Elites living in luxury while we scrape by. They didn’t even lift a finger when Mom and Dad were gone.”

“Maybe they had their reasons,” Kay suggested gently.

“Or they’re just selfish jerks.”

“Yeah,” she said, dropping the subject. “Found anything else?”

“Yeah, a few more cans of soup. Should last us a bit.”

Her smile returned, bringing a rare warmth to the bleak surroundings. “Good. I like soup, but I wish we had bread to go with it. I miss bread…”

Her wistful tone tugged at my heart. I’d give anything to provide her with more than just the bare necessities. But wishes didn’t fill empty stomachs.

“We’ve got what we need for tonight. We should go before sundown.”

We left the warehouse, not safe after nightfall. We walked through the streets, avoiding the more dangerous areas we knew all too well. The moon cast a pale glow over the cracked pavement, illuminating our path with a ghostly light. In the distance, the hum of machinery and the muffled voices of late-night workers repairing the city’s infrastructure reminded us of the city’s restless energy.

I stopped and pulled aside a loose piece of metal to reveal our hideout, a small, abandoned maintenance room tucked away beneath an old, crumbling overpass. I opened the door and gestured Kay inside.

“Home sweet home.” Kay moved into the small room, settling into a corner on a pile of old pillows and blankets.

“Yeah.” I stayed in the doorway for a second, looking about to be sure no one followed us or saw where our hideout was located. My muscles tensed, ready to fight or flee at a moment’s notice. This was our world now – a constant state of alertness, where letting your guard down could cost you everything. Only when I was satisfied did I relax, and move inside, then shut the door.

Our home was barely more than a glorified closet, but it was ours. And in this unforgiving city, having a safe place to rest was a luxury we couldn’t take for granted.

I sat beside my sister on the makeshift bed. Inside, the air was cool and still. I struck a match and lit a few candles we had scattered around the place. Then I dug through my backpack and pulled out two soup cans. With a quick twist, I popped off the lids and handed one to Kay. My stomach grumbled loudly. We ate the cold soup in silence, savoring every bite. When we finished, I took the cans and placed them in a bag.

“Now, get some rest.”

My sister curled up and drifted off. I stared into the darkness. No matter what it took, no matter the cost, I would protect her. She was my world, and I was determined to give her a future, far from the cruelties of New Boston.