War Girls (The Juniper Wars Book 5) by Aaron Ritchey (best short novels .TXT) 📕

sound like the end of the world. She drove a fist through the concrete wall next to us. Her knuckles and bones snapped, and blood flecked the ground. That she could heal. Her feelings for Mama? Prolly not.

Before we could say a word, she spun and took off sprinting. Wren and Mama, it had been oil and water from the very beginning. Or maybe oil and blood, for all the fighting they’d done. Sharlotte had taken over raising Wren since Mama had given up on her.

Most of the time when Mama referred to her middle daughter, she’d say, “Just let Irene be. She ain’t worth it.”

Wren got the picture early: She wasn’t worth anything.

But why did Mama and Wren hate each other so much?

Near the end of our adventures I’d learned the truth. It’d been a hard one to carry.

Sharlotte sighed. “The myal-olanzapine is wearing off. And we’re down to our last spools of medical tape.”

Thirty years ago, psychiatrists used olanzapine to treat patients suffering from schizophrenia. Myal-olanzapine was the next generation. It had seemed to work on Wren, but if her metabolism ran so hot it could heal most wounds, keeping her medicated would be twice as hard.

Pilate managed a fatigued smirk. “I’m just glad she hit the wall and not one of us.”

“This time,” I murmured. I’d seen Alice lose it, really lose it, during our travels together. And Alice might’ve been a normal woman before she’d been gassed with the Gulo Gamma. Wren? Different story.

Sharlotte looked off into the distance where Wren had run. “I wonder if she’ll come back this time. Each time she’s gone a little longer. You know how she is, never wanting to stick around, always wanting to be by herself. The drugs have helped. And she’s changed so much, so you never know.”

Pilate’s smile was gone. “She knows that if she goes coco, she should do it alone. She hates it how she’s hurt both of you. You know that. Yet she wants to be different. And there’s power in that.”

Thinking of Wren, suffering alone, made a single tear trace down my cheek. I understood her so much more now. I wiped my finger across my cheek and stared at the dampness. A tear. Hello, zero, you’re almost mine. Then? I’d claw my way to positive.

“Wren’ll come back,” I said. “She’ll show up when we need her most. Like always.”

She’d been the hero time and again ’cause maybe she knew she couldn’t save herself, so she saved all of us instead. I felt a wave of love for my troubled sister—my twin in a lot of ways.

Snow started to fall, big spring snowflakes. In the darkness of winter, the snow didn’t mean it was going to get colder.

No, the snow, like my tear, promised warmth and a new beginning.

I told Sharlotte about Alice.

She sighed and watched the snow fluttering down to bring peace to the world. The storm would hide us, like it did before, when we rescued Micaiah during the blizzard. The snow would be a gift as great as any we’d ever received.

’Cause the Juniper took care of her own.

Chapter Sixteen

DOUBT SHOULD BE AT the heart of our beliefs. It should be the flickering candle we nourish. Steadfast belief brings darkness not truth. By its very nature, an unyielding mind defies truth.

—Burke, Sally Brown, My Apologies, New York: Simon & Schuster, 2076

(i)

The storm drove us inside.

Pilate returned to his hospital room underneath the fire station. Sharlotte went about the business of being a general, and I went looking for Baptista.

We all still needed to talk about President Jack.

I found our resident Military Meg being guarded in June Mai’s headquarters, which was the fancy basement room of a big ’ol house, this one furnished with carpet and everything.

Baptista was under close observation for a very good reason. Severins had infiltrated June Mai Angel’s forces before, and dealing with chameleon-like superspies made people paranoid.

When I entered the big basement room, I could see the desperation in Baptista’s eyes.

“You want to know if she’s a Severin?” I asked June Mai.

The outlaw nodded.

“Hey, Baptista, who’s your favorite character on Lonely Moon?” I asked.

She answered at once, “Henrietta Bonney. Everyone loves Bonney, though I hear they’re thinking about killing her off in the next season. That show?” She rolled her eyes. “They love to get rid of characters everyone likes.”

I was a little behind, but I knew they couldn’t kill the gunslinger. Everyone loves a tough girl with a fragile heart who’s good with firearms. “Not gonna happen,” I said. “But Marla? They’ll kill her off.”

Baptista laughed. “Oh, girl, not Marla! She’s so innocent. And she’s just now learning to shoot. I figured they’d kill off Bonney and make Marla the new badass. I want to know who the Masked Desperado is. I have a friend who’s sure it was Marla all along.”

I gave June Mai a look. “Baptista is not a Severin. No way would the ARK spend their precious resources on teaching her about pop culture. Lonely Moon would not be on the curriculum.”

“How can you be so sure?” June Mai asked. “The Severin we had, Marie Atlas, blended in perfectly. We had no idea. You don’t know what it’s like being betrayed like that.”

“I don’t know what it’s like?” I didn’t come completely unglued, but she was stretching the seams of my patience. “A twelve-year-old girl turned on us. Nearly killed us. I know exactly what it’s like.”

June Mai didn’t frown, didn’t sigh, just stood there staring at me. “Baptista told us about this medical base in the New Mexico territory.”

“Where they send the American wounded.” I nodded.

“Your thoughts?”

Baptista watched our interaction. It was frosty. I was mostly to blame for that.

I had plenty of shrugs to give. “It’s a place to keep the Americans soldiers quiet. Maybe they’re being held there. Or maybe they’re being killed. Or tested.”

That last word floated there until Nichola Nichols entered the basement room. She was looking for me and that was as good