Free Evolution by Kate Wrath Page A

real, physical
pain.  I have to keep breathing.  Keep moving.  There are never
any answers.  Not any that satisfy.
    I deny all the pain and block the memories and dark thoughts
as best I can.  Still, I’ve lost the will to do what I intended.  I’m
suddenly exhausted.  I head back to Matt’s rather than to my
warehouse.  When I get there, I'm still weighted by so many emotions,
despite my attempts to deny them.  Somewhere along my path, the white
tower has wormed its way into my thoughts.  I’m consumed with the fear of
never reaching it.  There is an electric jolt of panic, and after that,
rage.  I smother it along with everything else, but it doesn’t take. 
I'm seething.
    When I walk inside, Matt is already there.
    "I have something for you," he says, smiling.
    There is a noise—a strange, squeaky noise—coming from the
dining room.
    I frown, and follow him toward it.  The noise
continues.  I don't like it.
    A cloth covers something on the table.  Matt removes
it.  "Merry Christmas."
    I stare, open-mouthed, at the cage.  "What am I
supposed to do with that?"  The strange-looking bird inside squawks
loudly at me, cocking its rust-colored head.  Its rounded belly competes
for space with the tree branch that’s crammed in with it.
    Matt shrugs like he doesn't know.  "Whatever you
want," he says.  "It's a gift.  It's yours."
    My eyes move from him to the cage.  I grab it and head
toward the back door.  Matt's footsteps follow me, but I don't care. 
I fling open the door and then the cage.  On the back steps, I shake it
until the bird emerges in a flurry.  It squawks and flutters, and
eventually escapes in a frenzied chicken-like panic.  We watch it go.
    Matt looks at me.
    "That's what I wanted to do with it."
    "OK."
    I drop the cage and go back inside.
    "Merry Christmas," comes Matt's voice after me.

Chapter 8: 
Tidings
    The morning is cold.  In the alleyways, beggars huddle
together, coughing and shivering.  I stride toward my warehouse with
renewed determination.  As we pass near the Outpost gates, I consider the
possibility of getting out to see this pond.  But I don’t have time right
now, and even if I did, chances are slim to none that the guards would let me
past the gates.
    A Sentry walking our way makes me forget the pond. 
Forget everything.  Jacob and Taylor stop in their tracks.  A few
heartbeats later, they're busting up laughing.
    It's wearing a hat.  A weird red floppy triangle with a
white ball dangling at the end.  I watch it with an open mouth. 
Finally, I manage to say, "What the hell?"
    Jacob and Taylor just shrug and grin at each other. 
I'm still gawking.  I rub my eyes and groan.  Matt is a madman.
    As we walk, I think about the stack of books on the table
next to Matt's chair.  They're the entirety of what the Outpost has to offer
on "Christmas".  There are novels and picture books.  Some
are just a few loose pages.  Matt's been pouring over them every spare
moment.  So, Sentries with hats.  What could possibly be next?
    Like Jacob and Taylor, I shrug it off, striding purposefully
toward my goal.  As people get out of my way, they offer me excessively
cheery and clearly fake "Merry Christmases".  I glare back and
continue walking.
    The warehouse comes with a handful of scrawny rag-robed
beings shivering in the alleyway outside.  I have a better way for them to
spend their time.
    "You," I say, nodding at the nearest body as I
throw open the warehouse door onto a cold, dark room, "let's clear this
place out."  As expected, there’s plenty of dirt and general filth
inside.  I make a quick round of the place, then stick my head back into
the alley.  "And you," I address my next unlikely helper,
"find some things that can be used for a fire."  I send two
others to go recruit more help.  Then I turn to Jacob and Taylor. 
"I'm going to need someone who can knock a hole in this roof." 
It’s true, I could call in a favor with Donegan’s men,