DEV1AT3 (Lifel1k3, #2)

by Jay Kristoff

“Um…Dimples?” she asked. “Dimples, do you read me?” She heard a short crackle of static, Ezekiel’s faint reply. “Lemon? Is everything okay?” “Um, that depends. What do bees eat?” “…What?” “Seriously, what do they eat?” “Well, I’m not an expert or anything. But I think they probably eat honey?” “…Not people?” “Nnnno. I think it’s safe to assume they don’t eat people. Dare I ask why?”

Lemon scowled. “Listen, can we agree that, as far as unwilling yet gorgeous captives go, I’ve been an absolute effing delight up to this point? Haven’t tried to escape, or shiv you in the back, or warned these lawmen that ‘oh, hey, by the way, this crazy lady is a genetically engineered murder machine with a swarm of killer bees inside her bra’?” “We thought we had reached understanding,” Hunter said, a little sadly. “Look, you wanna tell me I’m special, fine,” Lemon snapped. “I find it literally impossible to disagree with you. But those kids are some kind of special, too, or these Brotherhood bastards wouldn’t have nailed them up in the first place. Maybe they just got two belly buttons, I dunno. But nobody deserves to go out like that. Nobody.”

“Look at these freckles. Would I lie to you?”

“You listen, now,” the Major said softly. “And listen close.” Lemon bit down on the babble spilling from her mouth. “There’s no one like you in all the world,” he said. “And you’ve been frightened far too long. People fear what’s different. People fear what they can’t control. People fear the future. And that’s what you are, Miss Fresh. The future.” The Major nodded, that pale blue stare boring into her own. “And they should be afraid of you. Because you are not alone.”

Besides, nobody who spent as much effort on his hair as this kid did could be pure evil. Where would he find the time?

“Just so we’re clear, I loathe you like cancer right now.” Grimm nodded. “Clear.” “Should you get ghosted in this fool’s endeavor,” Diesel continued, “I refuse to mourn your death. In fact, I will throw a party with colored hats and cake for all.” She looked at Grimm sidelong. “Do you hear me? Cake.” “Understood,” Grimm said. Diesel nodded, gunned the motor. “…Will it be strawberry?” he added a moment later. Diesel closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath.

“Hold on to your underoos, freaks,” she growled.

That was always the way, right? Sometimes you don’t know you’ve crossed the line till you’re on the other side.

Cricket shook his head. “IT DOESN’T TAKE A GENIUS TO APPEAL TO THE WORST IN PEOPLE. ALL IT TAKES IS AN ASSHOLE AND A MICROPHONE.”