Free Bound to Ashes (The Altered Sequence Book 1) by Maranda Cromwell Page A

out a door. Alessandra looks at me and says, “Let’s get going.”
     
    [Alessandra]
    I won’t kid myself. I’m pretty freaked out, here.
    E4-17. Such an old number in my memory, but it’s him alright. Is that his name he goes by, or does he have a different one? Who would have given him a name? If I ask, what’ll he do?
    He’s not exactly the most comfortable company. The whole time we were in the yard in front of the lobby, he looked like a cat ready to bolt, hackles raised. Every time someone passed, his big yellow eyes followed them. Praying for them not to notice him. But it was hard for them not to. He looked so anxious he might die. I’m glad we hurried things along for his sake.
    But even now that it’s just me and him, walking down the highway, nothing’s changed. I’m going crazy from the silence. Nothing about him is loose or casual. At any second, it wouldn’t surprise me if he changed his mind and took off without me. Or worse.
    My mouth operates without my consent. “I never got your name,” He jumps a little.
    He waits for a second, then says, “It’s Dev.”
    Dev. I smile.
    He furrows his brow. “What?”
    “Nothing,” I say, and turn my gaze to the horizon, which is very slowly becoming lighter and lighter. It should only be a half-day’s walk to the bridge like he wants.
    Urges to attempt conversation rise in me, but I suppress them. I can’t afford to have him asking questions. How I knew about his fire breath, for starters. Things he... doesn’t need to know. At least right now. I feel cold despite the sweltering, midsummer drought. The sun doesn’t need to be up for this place to feel like a desert... hard to imagine that a long time ago, it wouldn’t stop raining here.
    Thankfully, curiosity doesn’t seem to be E4-17’s—err, Dev’s—strong suit. He’s dead silent and glaring into the distance.
    The highway passes under us slowly. I can hardly remember what a clear road looks like. Concrete barriers, crumbling and strewn, bar our straight path. Dead cars coated in thick dust are still standing after their owners drove them into the barriers or other cars, or tanks, ending it all. Most of the bodies have turned to skeletons by now. Scavengers had their way with the debris, but even they’re gone now.
    That was so long ago, Aless, it’s pointless to go back down that road.
    I glance up at Dev. It’s amazing how something so powerful can look so on edge. His body is well proportioned, corded muscles very prominent, but there’s no healthiness to it. Like a skeleton with muscles and skin, no cushion or room for error. The way the shadows fall on his grey skin, so sharp and angular, seems wrong. His altered body is trying to fulfil its purpose—strength, agility, stamina. But how can anything function well in a world like this? I can only imagine what he’ll look like when food isn’t a constant worry. Thinking about it makes my heart race.
    “So,” I say. “Where is it we’re going?”
    “The bridge.”
    Vague, but okay. “How many are we meeting?”
    He doesn’t look at me and says, distantly, “Three.”
    I’m going to get a conversation out of him eventually. I guess what’s the harm? Gotta be tactical about it, though. “Tell me about them.”
    He doesn’t want to talk, I can tell, but to his credit he does anyway. “Ashton, Jules, and Cain. Um. Ashton and Jules might be okay, but Cain....”
    I wait.
    His mouth screws up into an unsure frown and he says, “Cain might try to kill you.” He doesn’t give kill the expected emphasis. I’m still nothing to him.
    “I guess that’s expected. We haven’t exactly been fair to the supersoldiers over the ages.”
    “Altered.”
    “What?”
    He looks down at me sternly. “It’s Altered, not supersoldiers.”
    They named themselves. “Ah. No, I like that more, too.”
    My reaction seems to take him by surprise, his fists uncurl a little and his shoulders relax.
    Survivors who grew up when society was