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  At last, we make it to the closest ambulance, two women in FANY uniforms rushing towards us with a stretcher at our cries. We slide her onto it, and they ease her to the ground, better-trained hands replacing ours.

  Their faces are grim when they look up at us, and the one with red hair speaks. "She's gone. There's nothing more to do, and we can't spare the room."

  I drop to my knees, ignoring the pain shooting though my legs. "No. No. She can't be dead. We saved her. We stopped the bleeding and we..." My head bows. What will I tell her mother? I was supposed to save her. Why else was I led to her if I wasn't supposed to save her? Why was I given speed instead of something helpful like healing others? What good is it when I can't protect the people I love? I should've stayed in prison—I'm not cut out for this. I can't.

  Lois's hands rest on my shoulders. "I'm so sorry, Viola, but there are more people who need us."

  "Do they? How many people have died in front of us today because we were too late?" My voice is hollow as I stare down at my scarlet stained hands, clothes. Everywhere is blood.

  "Too many, but how many might we save if we keep going? Come on. Pour out your mourning into determination. I'll stay with you or I can get Audrey if you'd rather..."

  Her insecurity is the only thing to get through to me. She and I aren't as close as I am with the others, mainly because her darkness scares me, but staring down at my hands still covered in my friend's lifeblood, I think the darkness might make her strong. And right now, I need that strength. "No. Stay with me please."

  Her eyes soften. She winds her arm through mine as we wade back into hell. Memories of Dorothy both comfort and plague me.

  "Come on, Viola. Let's go to our enchanted meadow." Dot's face pleads with me.

  But Sebastian's loud sigh echoes from the other room.

  I shake my head. "I can't."

  Her lips turn down, and she huffs. "You're so pale you're almost see-through. We actually have a sunny day. You shouldn't be stuck in this house today. Come on. Please. I want to go to Oz."

  My lips twitch at her calling our meadow Oz. Just because her name is Dorothy, she decided The Wizard of Oz is her favorite book.

  I ache to say yes. I want to run and laugh and swim and dance in our meadow, but Sebastian needs me. It isn't fair that I can go out and have a good time while he's shut up in here alone. "I-I..."

  "Only for an hour. That's it. He'll be fine for an hour." Her brow raises, and I turn to see Sebastian entering the parlor. "Won't you, Sebastian?"

  He scowls, but refuses to admit he wants me to stay. "Of course I'll be fine. I'm thirteen. I don't need a babysitter."

  Guilt yanks at me, but since he said it was all right, I nod. "Just an hour, though."

  A grin breaks across Dot's face. "I promise."

  I chance a peek at Sebastian and shudder over the sadness and longing on his face. I shouldn't go, but Dot is already pulling me outside and the air smells like honeysuckle and grass and the sun warms my skin. Dot's right. I need this, and Sebastian can handle an hour alone. But what if he falls? Or tries to do too much without me there to stop him?

  She smacks my arm. "Stop worrying and enjoy yourself."

  Dot's laughter and the lovely day seduce me and chase away all my worries and guilt.

  She can't be gone. I can't live in a world where I'll never hear her laughter again.

  CHAPTER TWO

  AUDREY

  We trudge home on trembling legs, dusk turning the sky a light purple, hanging onto each other to keep from sagging to the ground and sleeping there. My heart still pounds with the rush of the day. We were able to save so many people and it was wonderful actually using our powers for good instead of experiments. This is what I've been waiting for.

  One step closer to freedom. One step closer to getting the hell out of this dreary and stiff country. One step closer to America.

  I was supposed to already be there. Prison sort of got in the way. Now I'm in another cage, trapped until I fulfill my end of the bargain.

  Viola grips my arm a little tighter. "Thank you. For saving me today. I wish you wouldn't have. You might not have recovered from that bad of a wound."

  "I had to show off my amazing heroics. Besides, I'm indestructible. Nothing's going to kill me." I fake a smile down at her. What I don't say, is she has people depending on her. I don't. She has people who love her. I don't. I have nothing to lose. My family won't weep if the blight on their family name dies. If the dark-skinned bastard in their family tree never returns.

  She shakes her head, but doesn't argue.

  The barrage balloons floating all over the city mock us, busted pipes from water mains shooting water up towards them. People are still picking through the wreckage of their homes. One lady perches in the middle of it, her dirt streaked hands bringing a cup of tea to her lips. A boy clutches a stack of books to his chest and tries to add more to the pile. It's shocking to see a child since there are hardly any left in the city.

  Lois halts, lurching us all to a stop with her. She slips her arm from Viola's and reaches for the china doll lying broken at her feet, cracked lines running through her face, half of her blue dress scorched away. In her other hand, Lois scoops up the other bits from it, tucking them into her pocket, and sets off again, her face set in hard lines.

  We don't ask.

  After the longest walk ever taken, we're back at our flat, drawing straws for baths.

  I win and use the last of my energy in a triumphant shout, a wicked grin spreading my lips at their dirty looks. Alone at last, I strip off the filthy and blood-soaked clothes, bits of it stuck to my skin. Air hisses through my teeth when I twist around before the mirror. I have a nice new selection of scars from today. A puckered patch of skin on my left shoulder blade, the matching gashes on my hip and lower back, my hands have too many to count. The back of my legs are sore, but the angry welts and bruises left no marks. Only when my skin is broken do I end up with scars, my powers not strong enough to make them disappear. I'm glad I'm alive and everything, but my body is wrecked.

  My ribs stick out and my collarbones are sharp, my face too thin making my nose look way too large. Every time I use my powers it burns off everything I've eaten and more. It takes a lot of energy and calories to heal, and even though we're exempt from wartime rations, I'm sickly thin, no curves left, my breasts smaller, my behind flatter.

  The bloody scientists apparently didn't read Captain America comics closely enough. He's perfect and gorgeous and unstoppable and got to punch Hitler in the face. He isn't a botched science experiment.

  Twenty-two years old and I have the body of an elderly woman. Add in the scars, and who will want me?

  I twist my face into a snarl and stick my tongue out at my reflection. A little lipstick and I'll be fine. I wonder what Mark is doing? He was such a beautiful chap. He didn't seem to mind the way I looked. My lips still burn with the memory of his kisses. Shoulders squared, I turn away from the mirror and run the bath, sinking into the water with a sigh before it's full. The water turns a cloudy pink. How foul.

  With the others waiting for a bath, I can't drain it and refill, so I scrub fast and hop out, sliding on a silky robe, thinking about Mark. His delicious skin three shades darker than mine, a kind of deep orange tinted brown. His strong hands tight around my waist as we danced. His soft lips urgent on mine. A shiver runs up my spine. It had been a wonderful night. Hard to believe it was only days ago.

  My lips turn down. What if he was one of the dead today? I shake my head. He's fine. He's probably already out of England, off playing war. I need a drink. I fluff my hair and go out to the main room in time to hear Viola giggle and say, "No, one was enough for me."

  "Is someone else being a bad influence on Viola? I thought that was my job." I love pretending to corrupt her.

  Lois flashes me a grin. "I'm not nearly as good at it as you are. I could only get her to drink one."

  "Drinking, little one?" I steal one of Lois's cigarettes. "Want
a smoke now to go with it?"

  She flushes a little, but smiles. "No, thanks. I want a bath." I don't miss the haunted expression in her eyes as she darts for the WC.

  "How's she doing?" I ask Lois. Every time I saw one today, I saw the other.

  Lois draws deep on her cigarette, frowning at her shaking hand. "She lost a friend today. We happened across a girl she knew and couldn't save her. She took it pretty hard."

  Pain and worry slams into me. Viola is so sweet and innocent, even her time in prison hasn't marred or hardened her. "Hell."

  "Yeah."

  There isn't anything left to say. We smoke and drink in silence, watching Rivka flip through one of her journals. Her hands are so burned, she can't hold a pen. How she isn't curled on the floor, moaning in pain, I have no idea. Every time she uses the yellow energy that bursts from her hands-—disintegrating whatever she aims it at-—scorching burns and oozing blisters cover her hands. Hopefully the doctors will help her. She smiles at something she reads-—a slight, sad smile. I wonder if it's about the lover she left behind in Palestine.

  I wish I could write poetry and pour out all the twisted dark, angry, and wounded feelings inside me. Instead they fester and snarl inside my soul, blackening it farther.

  Hopefully, Viola has an outlet because I couldn't stand to see this war change her. She's stronger and has a better soul than I do. She's the one who was in prison for saving her brother. Not killing someone like Lois or getting caught taking part in an underground prizefight like me.

  WE'VE BEEN OUT HERE for hours. I've almost died at least four times, most of the blood on me mine. My head is fuzzy and my stomach complains like a starving child. I keep expecting to look down and see my ribs bursting through the skin.

  I stretch my back, enjoying the pops it makes in response. Rivka's call for help yanks me from my moment of rest, and I trip over to her, my footfalls unsteady over the rubble. I barely make it in time, diving on top of a man as a wall comes down. The pain is brutal and sharp as the rocks crash into my head and shoulders and back. Somehow, I stay conscious, healing before I have the chance to pass out. Yellow light sparkles around me and in a moment, I'm covered in ashy dust and I'm free. Rivka's powers are wonderful.

  She helps me to my feet. "Are you all right?"

  I run my hands over my body, wincing at a couple still sore spots. "I think so."

  "Sorry. I couldn't get him out in time."

  I grin crazily at her. "It's what I'm here for."

  She doesn't smile back, instead she inspects me. I'd like to smack her a little bit.

  "I'm fine." I eye the man still lying on the ground in front of us. "But he could maybe use a little help."

  She shakes herself and we pull him out, his head lolling to the side. Please don't tell me I threw myself over a dead fellow. My fingers find his pulse and I smile a bit. He's alive. Barely. We bind up his wounds as best we can and carry him to the ambulances. More experienced hands take over.

  And back in we go.

  Viola, with a ravaged face bends over two women. I start towards her, but Lois is already there. She'll keep an eye out for Viola. I'll stay with Rivka. And try not to shove her under falling rocks. Annoying git with her judgmental eyes and stiff attitude. It makes me want to poke her until she cracks.

  CHAPTER THREE

  VIOLA

  We spend two days pulling people out of the wreckage and rubble. More buzz bombs made it through to the city and everyone is terrorized. It's almost worse than the Blitz, there’s something more disturbing about these bombs.

  The sight of a woman sobbing over her broken tea pot refuses to leave my thoughts, haunting me at every turn. And Dorothy. Always Dorothy. Memories flash through my mind of her laughing, trying to coax me outside away from the stifling room of my brother. Begging me to play Wizard of Oz with her, always making me play the witch. Her challenging me to a footrace since it was the only thing I'd leave Sebastian for. Her knocking on my window late at night after Sebastian was asleep for a moonlight adventure in our meadow. Her visiting me in prison, eyes bright with tears.

  Audrey has new scars from throwing herself over people to protect them from the falling stones and wood, Rivka's hands have fresh burns on them from using her energy to disintegrate the piles on top of people. Lois and I are the only two who've found little use for our powers, traveling quickly hasn’t been too helpful in patching people up.

  As bad as the memories are, I cling to them as I undress, dread weighing down my limbs. I tie what consists of two large sheets of paper with little strings around my body. It gives nothing more than the illusion of modesty, hiding nothing behind the thin white material and gaps down my sides.

  With a steadying breath, I slip between the curtains and join the others in the main room where they stand huddled together, arms crossed over their chests, glaring at the three men studying them. I join them and take comfort in the arm Audrey throws across my shoulders.

  Dr. Alden gestures to Rivka. "Miss Samuel? Have a seat on the table, please."

  She shuffles over and perches on the edge, her cheeks tinged with pink and mouth tight.

  "Let me see your hands."

  Rivka holds them out for his inspection and he frowns. "That is unfortunate. The blisters look worse than last time."

  "I've used my abilities more." Her normally calm facade leaks a bit, showing her hatred of this.

  "Does it still hurt when you use them?" he asks, taking notes.

  "Yes."

  "Very unfortunate." He turns to Mr. Hall. "I'll need photos of this when I'm through. Dr. Foster? You can begin on the other girls."

  Foster chooses me. I leave the safety of Audrey's embrace and drag my feet towards him and the table he points to.

  "Lie down on your stomach."

  I obey, my hands curling into fists. He starts at my feet, inspecting the blisters oozing and scarring my soles and heels. I hiss when he pokes them, barely stopping myself from kicking out at him. He tuts and moves up to my calves, squeezing and prodding the hard muscles roping up my legs. My entire body stiffens and stills when he moves higher, even with his professional air, my veins freeze. No one has ever touched me this personally. And I hate it. He stops at the top of my thighs and I'm able to breathe again.

  "Hall? I need photos of her legs." His voice makes me jump. "Miss Fogg, you may sit up now."

  I fold my legs in and flop over, struggling to keep my bits covered as I sit up. He inspects my arms, my ribs, inside my mouth, nose, ears, everywhere before he's satisfied. My teeth catch my bottom lip, and I fight back the trembles trying to break out and take over me. Tears of fury clog my throat. I hate this so much.

  "How are the hunger pains?"

  "The same." I pick a spot on the wall behind him to stare at.

  "No worse? You haven't experienced any intensity with them?" His pen scribbles across his pad, the scratching noise making me want to scream.

  "Only when I use them a lot."

  "How about when you don't use them?"

  "There hasn't been much time where I haven't, but it's a little better. The bracelet causes more pain when I don't use my abilities." My eyes start to water from staring for so long. I blink and turn my attention back to him.

  He takes a few more notes on his little clipboard. I'd like to take it and break it over his head.

  "Does any of this mean anything to you? Is it going to kill me?"

  His brow furrows and he stares at me in confusion. "You're worried about this killing you?"

  My spine lights up with fury and each word comes out in a bite. "Yes. I'm losing more calories than I can possibly gain. People do die from starvation, yes?"

  "Of course. But—uh...no. As long as you keep eating the vitamin biscuits you should be fine. Though I also suggest using your powers as a last resort."

  A snort mixed with a guffaw explodes from me. "I'll keep that in mind."

  He sniffs in offense and moves on to Lois, who's the only one still waiting. Aud
rey is across the room, her eyes squeezed tight as Dr. Alden inspects her like she's some fascinating and disgusting bug he's captured. Hall finishes up taking photographs of Rivka's hands and moves towards me.

  "Lie back down please so I can photograph the back on your legs."

  I pause, watching Rivka hurry back through the curtains.

  "Miss Fogg?"

  "Sorry." I obey and listen to Lois and Dr. Foster.

  "Are you ever able to stop shaking?"

  "Rarely. I wake myself up sometimes when it gets too bad."

  "I see. You have dark circles under your eyes too. Probably from not being able to get a full night’s rest. It could also be making the shakes worse. I'll send some sleeping powders with you. See if those help and let me know next time." Lois can manipulate shadows, making them darker to hide herself so she can travel through them. Somehow it leeches the color from her skin and causes her to tremble almost constantly. At least she doesn't get lost in them anymore. Too bad she didn’t develop invisibility. It might have made it easier on her body.

  Hall's voice interrupts my eavesdropping. "I'm finished. You can go get dressed now, Miss Fogg."

  With a groan of relief, I slither from the table and hurry to the curtains, each piece of clothing snapping in place like armor. I stand there, sucking in shaky breaths, not ready to give up my moment of solitude. Not ready to go out there and hear about what a failed experiment we are. Every time we're inspected, the disappointment over the type of powers we have and the bad side effects shine in their eyes and are expelled in loud breaths.

  I want to scream Mary Shelley's words at them. "Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turn from me in disgust?"

  Their eyes were so full of promise the day they strapped the meteorite to us.

  April 1944

  Terrified of returning to prison if this doesn't work, I mouth a silent prayer as what must be acid travels through my veins. How does a simple bracelet made of meteorite hurt so much? They didn't say it would be like this. Agony unlike anything I've ever experienced grips me as the gasps and grunts of the other three girls echo in here with me. I check my arm where the burning begins. Blood leaks from around the ring of rocks they've embedded deep into my skin, red drops raining to the floor. The cold metal of the table I lie on seeps through my thin dress making me shiver. There's a metallic and burning smell under the antiseptic tickling my nose.