To Be Free Read Online Free PDF Page B

realize that it
smells like rain and ozone," I tell him, rapping him lightly on the
forehead with a knuckle. He rubs the spot, scowling now. "It's
going to be a big one; the electricity in the air is making the
hairs on my arms stand on end."
    He nods after a moment,
probably trusting my judgement enough to let me call the shots, so
I lead the way through the trees once more with him on my heels.
Directions come more easily to me than time does - now that I think
about it, that's quite ironic - and I rely on my inner compass to
head north-northwest, the wind dying around us as the storm surges
from the west.
    The storm hits as we're
trekking through the forest.
    It starts out small and is
easily ignored; the rain falls in slight bursts, small droplets
that aren't enough to get us wet. It makes the rocks and dirt we
travel on slick and we both fall more than once, Quinn hugging his
bare arms against the chill of the water. He doesn't complain,
though, which is honestly a surprise - he strikes me as a pampered
man, one used to getting his way and who never had to fight for
anything in his life.
    Sometimes it's refreshing to be
wrong.
    Just as I can dimly make out
the lodge sitting against the base of the hill we've been scaling
for the better part of half an hour, I look behind us to tell
Eleven of this and notice the wall of water quickly making its way
towards us, and I blanch. He looks behind him to see what I saw,
and swears vividly in French.
    Both of us shift it into fifth
gear as we sprint down the slick grassy hill, dodging trees and
rocks as we skid and slip down the slope. Branches slap me as I
pass and I fall down on my ass hard enough to bruise, but I get
back up with Quinn pulling me up by my arm as he passes me, the two
of us pulling each other along.
    Normally it'd be a sight to
behold; rain falling so quickly and so uniformly that it creates a
sheer wall as it approaches, cascading over you in an instant - but
not now, when we're caught out in the open with Recon One on our
ass, exhausted from the time spent on the run already as well as
having used our gifts - not to mention Quinn at risk of catching a
cold thanks to being minus one shirt and I forming a painful stitch
in my side and my legs threatening to collapse at any moment.
    The rain attacks us as we reach
the valley, merciless tendrils of ice hitting us like needles. I
suck in a breath and swear as loudly as I can, the sound drowned
out by the thunder that peels and the lightning that cracks on the
mountain not far from us. I'm stumbling and faltering in my steps,
my legs like lead, and Quinn pulls me along by the arm as much as
he can.
    It's by no means a relief when
we reach the lodge, the door locked and a sign clearly stating that
it's closed for the season. I swear breathlessly, pushing past the
man jiggling the doorknob uselessly and pressing my hands to the
metal. My clothes are soaked and clinging to me, but I manage to
dredge up an ounce of power and manipulate time once more.
    It's not something I can
explain; it's kind of like imagining something happening, seeing it
in my mind and pushing with my mind, like trying to move a rock.
You know where you want it so you push against it until it
shifts.
    The deadbolt clicks and the
door opens, giving us sweet shelter from the hellfire raining from
the sky. It's not as warm as I'd want it to be, but I think I read
somewhere once that a drastic change from cold to hot is a
sure-fire way of getting a cold.
    Pressing my back to the door
once Quinn is inside and locking it once more, I slip to the floor
with a grateful sigh, my lungs threatening to collapse and my legs
no longer able to support me. Thunder peels outside like some sort
of animalistic groan, denied its prey.
    Eleven's swearing in French, a
blue-streak that hasn't stopped for a good ten seconds as he
collapses onto his ass on the wooden floor, leaning back on a hand
to stare up at the ceiling and inhale greedy lungfuls of air.
    I can't help