Page 14 of Infinity Son (Infinity Cycle 1)

The doors close behind us before Orton and James can enter. Orton grins as the train begins pulling away.

I catch my breath and stare down Brighton. “Can you not buddy up with the egomaniac next time?”

“He was fine until you both went off on him,” Brighton says.

“Don’t turn this around on us,” Prudencia says.

“I document people’s lives, and his story could’ve been eye-opening!”

Brighton stays shut when he realizes their arguing is catching the attention of other passengers on the train. Someone at the opposite end of the car is standing on the bench with his phone aimed at us. I’m about to tell them to cool it when the connecting doors open and Orton and James walk in.

My heart is pounding. This is impossible, the train was taking off.

“Don’t look, but they’re here,” I say. Like an idiot Brighton turns around. “What did I say?”

“How did he even get here?” Prudencia asks.

“Doesn’t matter now,” Brighton says. “Stay calm, they can’t do anything. Too many people here.”

I don’t believe that. He’s followed us this long—he doesn’t care. If we can get off this train and get home, I won’t ever leave my bedroom again. I don’t want to be some damn statistic of victims killed by chaotic specters. I’m so pissed at Brighton, but as Orton shoves passengers aside, Brighton’s hero complex kicks in and he guards me and Prudencia.

“Didn’t get a chance to say bye,” Orton says.

Prudencia shakes her head. “You feel good about yourself?”

“Prudencia, stop,” I say. Sure, there are some people who would rather go down fighting, but I’m in the business of staying alive.

“Your friend wanted to know my story,” Orton says. “I was tired of being everyone’s punching bag, so I became a god.”

“This is not what we’re here for.” James tugs Orton’s arm.

“Celestials are born with the gleam, but taking in power is a truer show of strength. These other punks try and die.” Orton’s fist tightens. “I’m beyond the others too.”

Orton might be running his mouth about how superior he is, but you don’t need that much power to take down three teens without any of our own. Passengers clear back as I finally crack into a full panic, begging for help, but only a few people shout at Orton to leave us alone while others get out their phones to record. Maybe if I was their favorite show that was about to get canceled they would care more, but instead I’m about to become a headline they’ll glimpse before moving on.

It’s wild how even though I’ve been shot at by enforcers, the terror squeezes harder now. I was a third party to that power brawl, the kind of nameless and faceless person who bleeds into crowds and either becomes a casualty or someone with a story of how he survived. But now I’m a target.

“Back up,” Brighton says.

Orton gets in Brighton’s face, noses touching.

I split them up because no one steps to my brother like that. I sucked at biology, but even I know hearts aren’t supposed to beat this fast, this hard. “You win. You’re a god. We’ll shut up.”

Orton grins and reaches out for a handshake. “Truce.”

I notice two deep, fresh scars around his forearm, almost surgical, even cleaner. I reach out to shake his hand because I’m scared, okay?

Orton withdraws his hand. “You were about to use your powers,” he says.

I shake my head. “What, no. We don’t have powers, don’t worry about—”

I shut up, but the damage is done. The specter’s grin is dark, and I screwed up. I should’ve lied because the truth wasn’t doing it for Orton, who swears we should be bowing before him.

Orton grabs my arm and flings me toward the train door, and my head bangs against the pole; that’s going to swell in no time. I fall face-first into a puddle of someone’s cold coffee, and my spit drips onto the floor. I inhale a deep breath as I try getting up, but the air has been knocked out of me. Everything is spinning as I wheeze, my eyes welling with tears. A hand touches my shoulder, and I flinch, thinking it’s Orton grabbing me again, but it’s Prudencia asking if I’m okay.

Chaos erupts throughout the train.

Brighton leaps at Orton because that’s how stupid we are for each other, but he somehow flies through the specter’s body as if he’s nothing but a projection. That doesn’t make sense. Phasing through solid objects is a celestial’s power, and specters haven’t been successful with stealing their abilities.

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