The Edited

Chapter 1

Quinn was alone. The street corner was deserted as the evening sun took its final bow. She was in an unfamiliar town--unable to deny the disadvantage of the situation any more than the speed of her heart. Her eyes darted from building to building. The red brick structures with their giant display windows were undamaged and not yet showing the telltale signs of abandonment. But seeing as there was so much fighting nearby, it was likely that all the residents had long fled.

One of these looming storefronts had to contain apartments overhead that could provide shelter for the night. Her feet longed to rest, and after some shut-eye, she could return to familiar surroundings. Coming here was a stupid idea. While she did not want to stay, traveling in the dark alone was less advisable.

Her heart raced. Darkness was fast approaching. She tried doors, looked in windows. The pounding thumped in her ears. Or was the pounding coming from more than just her heart? She whirled toward the sound of footsteps coming at a sprint from down the street and backed into a doorway of a shop.

But she was too late. The owner of the footsteps had spotted her. He would be upon her in a matter of moments. Running was not an option. Not when she was boxed in like she was.

Quinn steadied herself, locking her feet onto the pavement. Her eyes flitted all around her surroundings. There had to be something, anything that would knock her soon to be attacker off his feet. He could have any brand of evil in store for her. That was the most frightening part of this war. There was so much for which no one could prepare.

Quinn placed her hands together and tried to focus on the task at hand. But it was nearly a futile effort. Her mind jumped from thought to thought and plan to plan. She thought about the warning to carry a weapon. She thought about how she should not be out alone. She thought about how she should have stayed in the damn underground bunker. But most of all, she thought about how much she wanted to taste victory and free all these prisoners from the tyranny they were being subjected to.

A fireball launched from her opponent's hands. Quinn's face illuminated in the flames. The warmth searing her skin from head to toe before the flame died. An impish grin on the attacker's face set her anger aflame. He was teasing her, playing with her before she was either captured or killed. This person--the real person inside the captive shell of a human--had no idea what they were doing. This attack, it wasn't their will being imposed. It was so unfair.

But none of that mattered right now. Her right hand settled on the doorknob behind her. The only thing that mattered was an escape to fight another day. Her left hand twitched. A car door slammed. Her attacker spun on his heel. That was all the time she needed.

Falling through the door, she saw nothing but the orange glow of flames on the other side of the glass. Right where she had been standing.

That glass door and wall of flickering fire further aided her escape. A barrier and a distraction while she slipped out the back door and into the narrow alley.

Feet pounding the pavement, Quinn allowed the pull of gravity to melt away until her feet no longer met the stone underneath. The favorite of her two abilities, thanks to the feeling of the wind whipping her face as she soared through the air, but the ability that would make her a beacon for any Opposition in the area. Discretion was not a concern right now, but speed was of the essence. She flew along the rural road connecting the forsaken neighborhood, home now to only fire-wielding maniacs, with the city that still had some semblance of civilization. And with it, more security for a person like Quinn. More ways to blend.

In no time at all, arriving in the city's outskirts, Quinn climbed the rickety iron staircase that led to a second story apartment. This one in particular was her favorite hideout. She creaked open the door, thanking her lucky stars that the pyromaniac did not appear to have followed her here. The last thing she needed was for this small reminder of peace to go up in flames.