CHAPTER TWO #3
Beach life was the one luxury of being born a Fox that I accepted and reveled in.
I could afford the highest SPF – 800, with twelve-hour coverage – the lightweight wetsuits cured with ultraviolet protection, the oculsight ensuring I’d never have less than twenty–twenty vision or sunspots on my eyes.
It had taken scientists years to figure out how to erect a fleet of interconnected satellites around the world to help replenish the depleted ozone layer, the satellite grid creating manmade lightning storms at the edge of our atmosphere.
I didn’t understand the science of it, but I was grateful.
It was 2032 and the earth had survived in all its beauty.
Beyond the steep drop of the cliff edge, water glistened and swelled, a few surfers glowing as sunlight hit them.
I didn’t need to refresh my Centaurus interface for the conditions.
Everything I needed to know I could see as I snaked up the RRH.
Glassy water barreled over one of the surfers.
Sheer perfection. My solisPhone buzzed as if agreeing.
Jaiden
Wyat
Jaiden – the same friend responsible for the AUX letting me blast country pop. I swiped my thumb over the holoscreen of my phone, engaging the voice command.
‘Centaurus, activate voice-to-text. Send and receive: Jaiden Wilds,’ I said, lowering my music.
‘Voice-to-text activated,’ the solisAI chimed in response.
Castor
Ten minutes
Jaiden
Hurry up. I’m frothing to get in, the waves r firing today
Jaiden was half the reason I was so close to going pro.
He was nearly there too, with one of the best sponsors in the sport paying for his wetsuits and SPF – more than an orphaned kid from South Alta could ask for.
He never let me, or the last of our trio, Pua, buy anything for him.
He came from nothing and did it all himself, while letting me tag along to learn his moves.
Jacinta hated that he was my best friend, but he kept me grounded.
Jaiden
U have ur extra board wit u?
I rolled my eyes and veered further left in my lane to give a cyclist more space. He might not let me buy him anything, but he never turned down a ride on one of my limited-edition Cayde Harlowe boards.
Castor
You let a tourist borrow yours again?
Jaiden
U gotta see her. Dw, she gotta friend for u
Before I could reply – Jaiden and I had completely different tastes – searing pain pricked the tips of my fingers, like a thousand hot needles trying to break through my skin. ‘What in the hel– SHIT!’
I tried to shake the sensation from my hand. Instead, the pricks of pain turned into a long, steady burn, weaving through my veins and pulsing behind my eyes.
No.
I slowed as I rounded the cliffside, pulling down the visor to look in the mirror.
This can’t be what I think it is. Not me.
‘No. No, no, no, no, no.’
Stabbing pressure shot up my legs, toes to calves to thighs. I rubbed my eyes and stared at my unfamiliar reflection. Blue light vibrated beneath my bronzed skin, lightning bolts tattooing across my temples.
My grip tightened around the steering wheel, and instead of my skin paling around my knuckles, more electric blue crackled in my hands and beneath the sleeves of my white dress shirt. The sight stole the air from my lungs.
I ran a hand over my face. This was impossible.
Without thinking, I let go of the wheel and ripped open my shirt, buttons popping. Helical disease danced across my chest, ribs and sides.
‘Not me. Not now.’
The sun blared too bright, and I pressed hard on the gas, my foot missing the brake.
The campervan lurched. I tried to regain control as the cliff’s edge sped toward me.
Every cuss word screamed through my thoughts and spilled from my mouth.
Jerking the steering wheel, I overcorrected, the tires lifting then dropping hard.
I turned too sharp. My heart shot into my throat.
The brakes squeaked, the burn of rubber singeing my nose.
I’d managed a complete one-eighty, my gasp cut short as the front of the van crunched into the cliffside guardrail. I folded on impact, my head slamming against the steering wheel. Shock took over; I didn’t even feel it. My vision blurred.
Slowly, I sat up. I survived that. How the hell did I survive that?
Thank the stars, the road was empty. I was facing the wrong way, but that wasn’t my focus. I was conscious. Alive. OK. I didn’t feel any pain. The blue lightning was gone. I blinked rapidly as something warm slid into my eye. I wiped at it, then brushed my hands over my shirt. Blood.
My thoughts slowed. Seconds ago, I’d seen the helical current under my skin, felt the pain everywhere. Then I’d crashed, the campervan skewed clear across the lane. And now the pain and the blue light were gone.
Dizzy, my eyes finally focused long enough to see the cyclist from earlier heading straight for me, splattered with paint, her eyes wide and her mouth forming a perfect O.
Fear set in her gaze – and in mine. Before I could do anything, the front wheel of her hot-pink bike met my bumper, sending her flying into the windshield, the glass splintering on impact like a supernova.