Species Traitor: A Science Fiction Dystopian Novel by Kate Mary (books to read to get smarter txt) 📕

“I do appreciate it,” I said, trying to reassure him. “I’m just tired and overwhelmed. It was a pretty stressful night for me, too, and not just because of the attack. I’ve made up my mind that I can’t go into the District for a while. It’s just too dangerous.”

What could only be described as extreme relief shone in Dean’s eyes. “Thank God you’re finally willing to listen to reason.”

Like him, I was too tired to rehash a conversation we’d already had a dozen times, and it occurred to me that talking to him at all was getting more and more tedious.

Not that I was going to address any of that right now.

“Thanks again for checking on us, but I think I need to turn in. I have to work tomorrow, and my job is exhausting enough when I get a full night’s sleep.”

Dean nodded. “Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Sure,” I said.

He shot Lena a smile, which she returned with a dazzling and flirty one of her own. “Thanks for checking on us.”

Dean blinked like he wasn’t sure he was reading her right. He was. “You’re welcome.”

He looked between us one more time before turning away, and Lena and I headed back inside. Thankfully, the viewing screen was still on, and Mom hadn’t noticed our late-night visitor. The last thing I needed right now was an argument, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to avoid it if she started in on me. Even if I had decided I needed to take a break from the District, I refused to back down from what I believed in. Ever.

Chapter Fourteen

Only six days after the attack, voting day finally arrived.

I stopped at the polls on my way to work and was glad to find that although long, the lines were moving quickly. It was only the second election I’d voted in, but the last one had been nothing like this. I’d walked in, done my civic duty, and left. No wait. The number of people who’d turned out for this one was unreal, but I tried to tell myself it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Some of these people might have come out to vote against Veronica Waters. They could be pro-Veilorian rights and too afraid to speak up in public, instead choosing to show their support at the polls.

It was a long shot, but I couldn’t give up hope quite yet.

Every viewing screen I passed on my way to work was lit up, as well as the ones inside the building and even on the motobus. Usually, they were reserved for government propaganda, announcements, and the rare mayoral address. Now, though, they displayed the numbers as the votes rolled in. In real time.

It wasn’t close. Not even in the beginning. Waters was ahead sixty-two percent to thirty percent before I’d even donned my protective suit, with eight percent of the population throwing their votes to candidates I’d never heard of. By the time my shift on the cleaning crew was over, the gap had grown wider. Seventy-four percent when I exited the decontamination shower, and eighty-one by the time I’d cleaned up and redressed. I caught glimpses of the numbers on viewing screens throughout the city as I walked, and each time her lead had grown by two or three percent. It was disheartening, even if I wasn’t surprised.

It had been nearly a week since I’d seen Ione, and I knew going near the District today was a bad idea, but I couldn’t help myself. In fact, I was two streets away before I even realized what I was doing. It wasn’t too late to turn around, I told myself. It would be the smart thing to do.

Still, I kept moving in that direction.

The closer I got, the faster I moved, drawn not just by the need to see it, but by the sounds coming from that direction. The crowds gathered outside the gate had been angry over the past few weeks, but this was something different. I couldn’t quite figure what it was over the normal city sounds—the roar of engines and horns—I just knew something had changed.

I turned the corner, bringing not only the wall into view but the people crowded onto the street as well. There were easily a couple hundred, more than ever before, and they were cheering, dancing, and even singing, and the thump of music was just audible under the roar of voices. It was so strange and different than anything else I’d seen on this street.

It was a party, I finally realized as I scanned the crowd. Not just any party, though. Veronica Waters had moved her campaign hub—she was on that damn stage again—and people had gathered to celebrate her election. Voting wasn’t over since the polls would be open for another two hours, and even then, they didn’t usually call the election until close to midnight. Yet these people were already acting as if she’d won.

A portable viewing screen had been set up on the side of a nearby building, displaying the current numbers, and the sight made everything inside me turn to ice. Eighty-six percent. Waters had almost ninety percent of the vote.

No, the voting wasn’t over, not technically, but the election was. Waters had won, and tomorrow I would wake to a different world.

It made me sick to my stomach, and even though I’d worked hard to avoid my mother as much as possible lately, all I wanted to do was get home. Of course, that meant walking down this street, and while I didn’t think there was any real danger as long as I didn’t try to go into the District—which I’d be a fool to do today—the idea of being near people celebrating the election of such a despicable person was repulsive.

I did, though, tentatively at first, and then faster when no one seemed to notice my presence. The stink of unwashed bodies assaulted me as I pushed my way through the