Cold Tomorrow

[20]

CHAPTER TWENTY

It's not the old Lauren who stands before me – the warm, friendly, curly-haired girl who invited me to her parties and sat with me during lunch – but a new, colder version. A girl who reminds me more of a nightmare than of a real, living human being.

It's impossible.

I realise I'm holding my breath. "Lauren?" I ask. Her face betrays no recognition. Her eyes may as well be slabs of concrete for all the emotion they're portraying.

Then: "I have a message from Keon." Her voice is hard as ice and twice as cold.

I take a tentative step forward, my heart racing in my chest. How can this be possible? "Lauren," I say again. "It's me. Melissa."

For a moment, there's a flicker, the slightest glimmer of understanding, of humanity. Then it's gone. "He advises you to stop, to give up this futile endeavour. Before it's too late."

"I'm not stopping anything."

She stares. "You should know it doesn't end well for you. Keon has said so."

Her words shouldn't scare me – after all, it's Lauren – but they do. "And how would he know that?"

"He's seen it," she says simply.

"The Prophecy?"

"No." Her gaze pins me to the spot. "Another."

Another Lauren – the one from my nightmares – appears in my mind. I hear her voice: "Before the Seer, there was another who foretold your path differently. And he will not rest until his vision has come to pass."

An involuntary shiver runs through me.

"The future was set in stone a century ago," the real Lauren continues. "Keon only wishes to fulfil what has already been written. It is in your best interest to let him do so."

I stare, still unable to believe what my friend has turned into. "How are you alive?" I say. What I want to say is: I watched you die. I don't.

Lauren's face is hard and guarded. She is as living as machine. "The better question is, for how much longer will you be?"

My gut clenches, icy dread tingling through me.

"Now stay," she says, her voice like liquid, gliding into my ears, taking up residence in my bloodstream. My feet feel as though they have been glued to the floor.

When she turns to go, I find I can do nothing but watch, my legs completely unresponsive. As she disappears into the smoke, I yell, "Lauren!"

It's futile. My words vanish along with her, leaving me with nothing but smoke and my own racing heart.

Around me, I can hear the sounds of the fight, continuing on. Occasionally, a gunshot rings out, and I flinch instinctively, despite knowing I'd be able to heal. It makes me wonder just how much I'd be able to come back from; a bullet to the heart or brain seems unlikely.

Not a minute later, my feet come unstuck and I gain control over my legs once more. Freed, I dash towards where I last saw Lauren, aiming to catch up with her. The smoke is parting now, blown away by the natural breeze, and the devastation is slowly revealed. Bullet holes in the buildings around me. Scorch marks in the dirt. I number of bodies lie in the street, blood trickling across the ground. I avert my eyes, praying that they're not council members.

Up ahead, the truck grumbles to life. The windows are tinted, so I have no idea who's inside, but somehow I know Lauren is in there. Which means, more than ever, I can't let them get away.