Kady woke to voices in the dark. She kicked, a reflex, hitting something solid. In seconds of scrambling upright, she found the confines of her box-like cage were small and bare. The voices outside ceased. Then a door opened, bathing her in light. A closet door. Looming over, a man who looked like her father sneered down with shining black eyes. The fuck? “Make a ruckus and I will end you.” From behind him, another said, “You can’t harm the Conduit.” It was a short man, shaved head, large nose. “Yeah,” Kady jumped in. Her not-father’s eyes burned down again.
Cody raised his hands in defense, immediately knowing it was the wrong thing to do. The blade sliced down. The car door behind Cody opened, allowing gravity to pull him to the ground. The machete missed his arms, but caught his leg. “Fuuuck!” He thudded to the ground and braced the wound with both hands, blood seeping between his fingers. Hands grabbed at his shirt, pulling him upright. “Get up kid, we don’t have time.” “My leg… Kady!” A group of four men surrounded him, each with knives or machetes drawn of their own. Directed at Harold. The metal was
From the outside, it seemed Kady and Cody Harker never got along. Out on the curb in front of the house, Kady kicked at the mailbox. Cody picked grass. “He never takes this long.” Kady kicked again. Cody sniffed. “He always takes this long.” “Probably drinking again.” “You don’t know that.” “Don’t defend him,” she snapped, crossing her arms. “He’s a drunk. I don’t even know how he managed to get the visitation he has.” “Sounds like you don’t want to go.” “It’s a fucking fair. What are we, toddlers?” Cody shrugged, dusted his jeans, and stood. “Attitude and age