Free Autumn Storm by Lizzy Ford

he and his father
had in common. His whole life, Michael had been the source of
strength and unity for the family.
    “How the hell have you lived with mom all
these years?” Beck demanded. “I’m about to kill Decker.”
    “You’ll understand one day,” his father said
with a smile.
    Beck forced himself to his feet. He felt a
little better, though he wasn’t at all happy not to talk to his
mother about Autumn.
    “Mind if I stay here tonight?” he asked.
    “Of course not.”
    “Thanks. I’m gonna lay down. I need some
quiet time and some of Grandpa Louis’s crepes.”
    “All you can do is your best, Beck.”
    Beck nodded, unconvinced. His best had yet
to be remotely good enough. He left the living area, guilty for
keeping a family secret from his father. They were sworn to secrecy
about Autumn. It was worse for his mother, for she promised to
stand by while Decker fell into Darkness. She understood what it
meant. Beck didn’t exactly, but if it drove his normally in-control
mother to sleeping pills and alcohol, it was worse than he could
imagine.
    Which meant Decker was suffering even more.
Beck went to his room and turned on the light. His gaze went to a
framed picture on his dresser, and he crossed to it. It was him and
Decker, two Christmases ago. Before Decker went Dark. Before they
became Masters. Before their world went to shit.
    Beck didn’t know how to get his brother
back. He wasn’t even sure he could. It was in Autumn’s hands, and
he wasn’t getting a warm fuzzy about her ability to fix Decker in
time. Frustrated at being helpless, he threw himself across the
bed, doubting he’d be able to sleep.
     

Chapter Six

     
    Autumn found herself alone in the small gym
near the instructors’ offices. She breathed in then slowly out as
she did another repetition on the leg curl machine. Her leg shook
and burned. The pain grew intense, and she closed her eyes.
    Uuuuuup. Pause. Dooooown.
    Ten.
    She sighed. She’d missed Friday’s therapy,
and her body was punishing her for it this morning. Sitting up, she
stretched her right leg and did her gentle mobility exercises.
    It ached from all her activity since
arriving to the school. Her eyes went to the scars running along
one whole side and the crisscross of lines around her knee. She
still expected her knee to creak when she bent it, like the Tinman
squeaked every time he moved on the Wizard of Oz. The movie had
played at least once a week while she was in the hospital. She
thought of her right leg as being like the Tinman’s: metal, bolts
and plastic, except hers was held together by new muscle and
covered by skin. She didn’t have much feeling in most of her leg,
other than her foot.
    Relieved to have the worst of her routine
over, Autumn rose and limped to the display of free weights along
one wall. Her body had had to relearn most of its movements after
the accident. Aside from her leg and the split down her face and
neck, she’d broken one arm, herniated a couple of discs in her back
and torn muscles in her right shoulder. Internal hemorrhaging had
been the biggest threat during her first week in the hospital. Once
it was clear she’d survive, they’d started her immediately into
restoring the parts of her body they could while the rest of her
went through surgeries.
    Rehab had concentrated as much on
strengthening her core as rebuilding the muscles around her
injuries. She was surprised – and pleased – to see the Pilates
reformer machine in the school gym when she walked in this morning.
The hospital had one as well, and the nurses taught her how to use
it. She’d started with her core this morning then moved onto her
legs. Next up: the chest and arm exercises.
    When she finished with the two hour session,
she stood shakily before the mirrors lining one wall. With her hair
in a bun and no makeup, she saw the scar clearly that ran down the
side of her face and neck and those along her right arm and leg.
She looked like Raggedy Ann: held