Red Handed Read Online Free PDF Page B

everything but that voice. There was comfort in it. Assurance.
    â€œNix! Wake up. Right now.”
    There was my mom again, insistent and furious. What had I done wrong this time? Had I stayed out too late and missed curfew?
    Everything’s going to be okay .
    Again, the male voice filled my head. I wanted to see the speaker. See his face, which somehow shimmered tauntingly in shadows. I moaned, trying to force myself to wake up completely.
    As consciousness gradually claimed me, I smacked my dry lips together. God, I was thirsty.
    â€œFinally,” my mother grumbled. Her fingers closed around my shoulders, and she shook me. “Come on, Nix. I’m tired of waiting.” There was a tension-filled pause. “And I’m not going to do it anymore, not when you’re responsible for every bit of my pain.”
    I cracked open my heavy eyelids. Too-bright sunlight filtered past my white curtains, causing my eyes to tear and burn. I rubbed a shaky hand over my face and scratched at my itchy cheek.
    â€œWater,” I rasped past the hard lump in my throat. Past the cotton in my mouth. “Water.”
    Exasperated, my mom stomped from my room, only to return a few minutes later with a glass. I drained the contents in seconds, sucking it down as if my life depended on it. Hmm, good. So good. Cold and wet and heaven on earth. When I finished, I set the cup on my nightstand.
    â€œYou ready to talk now?” she said.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” I asked. I was in my bedroom, lying on my bed, but the last thing I remembered was trees. And dirt. Moonlight. Yes, moonlight. In the next instant, a boy’s face flashed into my mind. The boy’s face, the one who kept speaking in my mind.
    He had dark hair and blue eyes; he was tall. He was—his image disappeared. I fought to get it back, but…nothing. What was wrong with me?
    â€œYou got high again,” Mom said, her scorn and disappointment clear. “ That’s what is going on.”
    â€œWhat?” I jolted upright. Dizziness hit me in sickening waves, and several minutes passed before the sensation calmed. “I didn’t get high.” I knew that much for sure.
    I’d gone to the party, I remembered that now. I’d stood on the edge of the glen, watching my friends dance and smoke, but I’d resisted. Yes, I had resisted. And then…what? Ryan Stone had approached me. That’s right. Ryan Stone. My eyes widened as the night’s events replayed through my mind in vivid color and sound.
    Ryan was the one inside my head. His sister, Allison, had been in the forest with us. Outers had arrived and had tried to kill us. A fight had broken out. Guns had flashed and knives had glinted. My friends had almost died.
    â€œI snuck out,” I said, focusing on my mom. “I admit that. But that’s all I’m guilty of. I swear I didn’t use. Aliens attacked us. They tried to suck the water out of our bodies, but we fought them.” I didn’t mention that I’d almost become a victim myself.
    Mom glared down at me, and I fought the urge to look away. We were mirror images of each other, Mom and I. We shared the same pale hair, the same big, brown eyes. The same freckles on our cute, pixie noses. The same thin bodies—why couldn’t she have given me boobs? Looking at her was like looking at a delicate flower, easily stomped on. I sincerely hoped that was not the image people got when they looked at me.
    â€œI did good, Mom.”
    â€œYou get high and apparently think I’m so stupid I won’t figure it out. Then you lie to me about it. Fighting aliens? Please. Something like that would be all over the news.”
    â€œI’m telling the truth! I could have run, but I stayed and fought. I helped save lives. I…I thought you’d be proud of me.”
    She rubbed a hand over her face, massaging the lines of tension around her eyes and mouth. “Your skin is dry,