Page 27 of Before Their After

Jax hovered for a moment. “You two look like you’ve been through a lot. Can we get you anything before we start?”

I shook my head, Seth glared in response. Jax took his seat. “It’s okay to be nervous. The Compound can be a bit overwhelming at times, especially with all the construction going on.”

“What kinda interview?” Seth interrupted, tone harsh.

A soft smile pulled at Amaia’s round lips. “Sounds more invasive than what it is. Just want to get to know you a bit better, ask the things that matter. Make sure it’s a good fit.”

“A fit for what?” I asked, curiosity taking over.

“There’s over ten thousand people here,” Jax offered, leaning forward. “A place for everyone if you know where to look.”

Ten thousand. Wow.Even before the world ended, I’d never been around that many people at once. Vacationing wasn’t really our thing unless it was Newport or visiting family up north. I’d dreamed of moving to the city, honestly, even a decently sized town, but had never considered it a real possibility until now.

If there was a place for everyone, then that meant ‘a good fit’ was polite words for ‘not a psychopathic killer.’ I glared at Seth, squeezing his hand and begging him to play along. His face contorted in something of a sneer, as close to a smile as I would get. I’d lost my brother the second I’d hopped off my horse and walked through these gates, but I didn’t care. He was safe here, would always be safe here from the look of things.

Amaia studied us both, taking a deep breath before tucking the paperwork into a drawer.

“Let’s scrap the interview. We can chat. Just the four of us. Come on, fire away.” She winked. “Ask any questions you have. I think you’re going to like what we have to offer.”

Part Five

THE SEER

Wrath

TOMOE

I’dawoken not to noise, but a vision.

My family was sitting around the coffee table in the living room wearing the same clothing from when I’d decided to call it a night and head to bed. A makeshift gag stuffed my mother’s mouth, her cries lost behind the cloth. My sisters rocked back and forth, wiggling beneath the ties that were now secured around their ankles and wrists.

Crashing came from the kitchen. There were people in there, raiding through our food, medicine, and cutlery.

“There anyone else in this house?” a booming voice asked, face out of view.

“No,” my father said, his tone firm, giving nothing away.

A yelp sounded to my right, and my head turned. The man at the edge of my sight was ordinary looking, but a permanent cruel snarl appeared across his filthy face. My little sister crunched over, gasping for air, her forehead taking on the weight of her body.

I’m speaking, except I’m not. “No. There’s no one else here.” The voice is small but fierce. “It’s just us. There’s no one else.”

My sister Kana. It was a lie.I’m here.I’d gone to bed early that night, not feeling well and leaving my family to finish playing board games. Something we’d done much of as of late.

The scene changed.My sisters were being dragged from the house. The living room was a mess, lost to the chaos of a good fight. Kana glanced around the room, making sure she’d take in every detail.An addition to the long list of secrets the two of us developed. That explained the vividness of my vision. I’d never had one this clear before. They were usually only small glimpses of an interaction never lasting more than a few seconds.

To my horror, this one lasted minutes.Our father was yelling, screaming for the men to not take his girls.My sisters were not defenseless. They had learned to defend themselves through martial arts as children. They would not go easily.

“No! No!” my father pleaded, the man’s boots driving into his ribs. A loud crack sounded over the mayhem as he buckled over.

My mother was on her side, trying to wiggle her way toward my sisters. Her efforts futile and words caught on the cloth still placed into her mouth.

I sat up in bed with a gasp, coming too. “Damnit,” I muttered, cursing myself for not having any weapons in my room.

Poor planning on my part. My grandfather’s katana would have to do. I’d practiced with it many times for fun, but never intended to use it as a weapon. Wasn’t sure how it’d hold up.

It was well made. He’d crafted it as a young boy, taught by his own father, who’d been taught by his own. It was then passed down to my father, who, in turn, passed it to me. I wasn’t the oldest, or the youngest. But I’d shown the most interest. Asked the most questions as a kid, wanting to document my family’s history in my journal.

I slipped off my socks, not wanting them to be a disadvantage against the wood floors throughout my family home. Light on the balls of my feet, I closed the door to my room and crept down the hallway. I froze, startled as someone turned the corner. The shock on his face matched my own as I forced myself to focus, eyes scanning his body for any weapons. He had none within reach. None of that mattered. A knife would be nothing against the length of my katana. I swung without a second thought, his head falling to the floor before he could muster a warning to any others.

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