Devyn followed Joy through the backdoor. Her brother didn't seem to want to enter the house anytime soon with the way he lazily brought the cigar to his lips and puffed the air. Jim acted like none of this mattered. Like he wasn't standing there with red eyes and an enemy to the Council. Like killing some of his coworkers would be okay.
Who cares if they are Protectors of the Living. Jim has red eyes and can do what he wants. Just like when we were growing up. Devyn thought bitterly.
"Shit," Joy muttered, causing Devyn to look around them.
A few bullet holes were in the living room wall near the television he never used. The height of the couch obstructed the view of the floor. Devyn swallowed before edging forward to see a man in a Central officer's uniform lying facedown in his blood with a steak knife in his back. She braced herself on the couch's edge.
Devyn then turned toward the right; the small kitchen had been destroyed. Cabinet doors hung slightly off the hinges, and drawers were pulled loose. Steak knives stuck out of the wall in a clean line as if waiting to be the hooks for Jim's new floral arrangement. Well, if her brother ever took the time to be that creative.
She looked back at her brother and felt the crease deepen in the center of her forehead. Floral arrangements would be a lot easier to clean up than this mess.
"What are we supposed to be doing?" Joy asked. "I mean, how are we supposed to—"
"There is kitty litter in the big pantry," a hoarse voice said from the stairs.
The two women jumped and turned to meet another pair of red eyes. Devyn immediately recognized them as the P.U. lady in the trees.
"It covers up the smell," the P.U. lady finished when neither Joy nor Devyn moved. "For Christ's sake. Jim! Jim!"
The volume of her voice made Devyn's eyebrows rise and her heartbeat quicken. Her hoarseness didn't allow for the volume to increase much, but the sound made Devyn want to pour tea down her throat. Then again, if someone did hear her—
"Keep your voice down," Devyn hissed. "We are a little bit—I'm a bit. This isn't really what either of us expected."
The lady rolled her eyes at Devyn. "What did you expect? A powwow with the Protectors of the Living. They would be like, 'Oh, thank you for exposing us for being the complete jackasses that we are.' And, then, we would say 'you're welcome,' and we'd all eat expired Girl Scout cookies?"
Something about the way the lady crossed her arms and leaned a hip against the railing bugged Devyn. She wanted to take off her shoe and throw it at this failed vax. Screw the tea. Let her voice burn.
"That my brother wouldn't have red eyes. I wouldn't be invited over here to be part of a Central officer slaying cover-up. And that some failed vax in a tree wouldn't now be standing in my brother's living room is the start of the list," Devyn bit out, making the lady smirk.
Devyn moved to step forward, but her brother's steady hand stopped her. She turned to look up at him, and he gave her a sad smile.
"Sorry, sis," he sighed. "I was hoping you wouldn't get involved in all of this. But, Paige—"
The lady on the stairs skipped down the last stairs while pointing a finger at Jim. Joy's eyes widened, and she backed out of the lady's way.
Her red eyes flared as she got closer to Jim. "I thought it was you that got stabbed. I wouldn't have been able to stay. You—"
Jim made a sound to silence and soothe her while holding a hand up. "I didn't blame you, Paige. Let me finish."
Paige's red eyes narrowed, and she motioned for him to continue talking. Joy looked at Paige with a mixture of fascination and fear, making Devyn smirk. Joy doesn't travel beyond 610 often."
YOU ARE READING
Red Eyes
Science FictionDevyn Palmer never really fit into her family. Her grandmother and father were pillars when resettling the living in Houston while battling the undead. Her brother became one of the top protectors at the age of sixteen. While, Devyn sat in a rese...
