Splintering Reality (Breaking Order Series Book 2) Read online

  © 2019 Catherine Kopf

  Splintering Reality

  All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, at “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Cover and Interior Design by Eight Little Pages

  Edited by Kim Chance and the UNCG Writing Center

  First Edition

  BOOKS BY CATHERINE KOPF:

  Breaking Order

  Splintering Reality

  COMING SOON:

  Blazing Rebellion

  “If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

  if I settle on the far side of the sea,

  even there your hand will guide me.

  Your right hand will hold me fast.”

  — Psalm‬ 139:9‬-10 NIV‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

  To God, my family, my loyal readers, my writer pals, and those who are still fighting for their dreams. Keep your faith in your ideals and trust those you love. It’ll take you far.

  CONTENTS

  PART ONE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  PART TWO

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THIRTY-FIVE

  THIRTY-SIX

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  THIRTY-NINE

  FOURTY

  FOURTY-ONE

  FOURTY-TWO

  FOURTY-THREE

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ONE

  Ambert

  My strategy teacher once told me if the right two elements were put together, they'd explode. Stopping those two elements, those two sides, from colliding would take more than bullets. It took reason, brains, caution — something I grew all too familiar with; something Enya never knew about.

  I gripped the rugged tree bark beside me and got a better view of my surroundings — watching, waiting for a sign in the chilly air. Dreamer field agents in gray jackets, my allies, dragged their feet through the snow, guns by their sides. I adjusted my goggles. She had to be out there.

  One flicker of fire sparked in the chilly night air. Enya was okay. My twin’s fire flashed again and sent embers back to the sky — a signal that Regime officers were out tonight, hunting for Dreamers to ensnare and kill. My breath wavered as another flame sparked into the air. Number three. What is that supposed to mean, Enya?

  Snow fell into my boots; it numbed my toes and sent a chill up my spine. I staggered — the weight on my wounded leg ached and throbbed from the cold. A snow owl screeched above me; at first, I mistook it for a cry for help. Still, Enya gave no other signs. No miscellaneous blasts of fire penetrated the cold atmosphere. Nothing. What is she doing out there?

  “Enya!” my heart pounded in the cold. “Where are you?”

  A thick, calloused hand covered my mouth. “Shut up! We can't let them find us.”

  Enya brushed a crystal flake off her short, chestnut hair. Her eyes shifted toward the clearing ahead, a flame in her left hand. She crept her hand away from my mouth and let me speak.

  “You said you’d flash two times for officers,” I croaked.

  “There’s an officer with a gun.” Enya gazed back into the trees. “He has a girl smaller than Wallflower.”

  “We can’t let her die.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “They’ll kill her.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t planning on ignoring her. Alert the others if something happens.”

  I gave my twin a pleading glance. Warm air breathed out of my mouth and I struggled to keep my balance. It was stupid to not have any backup in a rescue mission. Even if she had powerful magic, she knew what saving lives meant to me.

  “No, Ambert,” Enya stared me in the eye. “I don’t want you getting shot again.”

  “Can’t I at least—”

  “No. Just keep watch in the trees for me.” Enya turned to leave.

  I stumbled forward and grabbed her hand. “You’re not changing my mind.”

  Enya contemplated my words in her head. She clenched her jaw and shifted her gaze to see my hand, still gripping onto hers. I wasn’t leaving. Enya had to be stupid not to notice that. As she let out a heavy sigh of air, her eyes narrowed.

  She shoved me off her and shivered. “Fine. Just don’t get killed, okay? I don’t want to lose you.”

  We only had three objectives:

  1. Find the Dreamer(s) — creatives and magic wielders like us.

  2. Save them at any cost.

  3. Return to Safe Haven undiscovered.

  Those were our tasks as field agents — the job The Committee assigned to us after we rescued Dreamers from The Science Department. I got roped into it, even though I almost bled out.

  As Enya and I trekked through the snow, a whimper moaned in the soft wind. I slipped once, but Enya gripped onto my arm to keep me balanced.

  “Quit your whining,” a guard snapped.

  “Please… what have I done wrong?” the girl cooed.

  The guard’s black uniform remained coated with dry blood, the ribbons of his previous kills. Against the snowy terrain, he towered like a dark spirit waiting to strike and pointed his gun at his captive’s head. To him, Dreamers violated order with their chaos, and any kind of radical ideology had to be stopped.

  A black bag covered the girl’s face — a common tactic used on The Regime’s prisoners to prevent escaping. With bound, bloodied hands, her voice quivered like a prey ensnared in a trap. She crouched over and shook. She knew what the gun would do next.

  Enya pointed to an opening in the trees. “If we make our attack from the side, we could assault from there and kill the guard. To do that — wait, no. We need to make sure the girl gets away in time.”

  “We’ll use a fireball to distract him. I could grab the girl and you can take him out,” I strategized.

  “Guess we could do that — if we wanted to rush in.” Enya clenched her jaw.

  I adjusted my right leg. Zeke removed the stitches a few days back, but my closed wound felt the sting of every snowflake. With any luck, those three weeks gave me enough time to heal.

  A small fire flickered in my twin’s hand, ready to burn anything it touched. She gave a glare at me and I nodded.

  Snap. A sound
scuffled from the tree branches. Enya snapped her head behind her to find nothing there except the cold layers of deep snow. As she returned her attention back to the girl, she acted like that scuffle came from an animal.

  I knew better. The Regime never sent lone guards without protection. There couldn’t be an exception here.

  They’d led us into a trap.

  I whispered to my twin. “Enya. Put it out. Now.”

  “We’re so close to getting her!” she groaned.

  “Enya—" my expression firmed and I lowered her hand. I wouldn’t let her get us killed. “Put it out.”

  Enya scanned the area for any Regime soldiers. She narrowed her eyes and finally put out her flame. A shallow breath of air escaped her lips. “How many of those demons are here?”

  I listened. Snaps behind and above us— multiple guards waited in the shadows. “At least three.”

  “I’m going for the girl.”

  “That’s what they want.”

  “I can handle it!” With a single toss, Enya threw a flame and scorched the girl’s captor. As he fell to the ground, another soldier in the trees pointed his rifle at Enya.

  “Dang it, Enya!” I grabbed a gun off my belt and shot into the tree. The contrast of red and white in the snow made my face sour like my adoptive father’s. I never liked fights, especially their unnecessary deaths.

  Gunshots broke out in the woods and echoed in the night’s silence. Enya stayed with the little girl and I joined her side.

  “Why didn’t you listen?” I asked.

  She slapped her forehead. “Like controlling my fire is easy.”

  Another guard positioned himself to shoot us. Enya summoned flames in her hands and threw them in his direction; they scorched his uniform and the tree beside him. Enya smiled and formed a circle of fire around us, which only melted the snow. She tried again and produced a barrier to cover us from close range attacks.

  I shot again, eager for the fight to be over. This ten-year-old girl with a bag on her face needed us to rescue her.

  Enya threw another blast of fire as I loaded another round of bullets. It was the last one.

  Bang! Bang!

  Dang it — if Enya only learned to listen to people! If she wouldn’t listen to me, who the heck would she listen to? Who would be there to protect her?

  Bang! Bang!

  Just like that, the shots silenced. Enya threw another blast of fire and paused. Sweat poured down her face as she tried to catch her breath.

  I put my hand on her forehead. “You’re burning up.”

  “Just be quiet—” Enya panted.

  “You’re overexerting your magic again.” I handed her a bottle of water from my backpack.

  She gulped down the water in large slurps. As Enya lifted her head, soft snowflakes fell on her face. Breaths of relief released from her lips, a sign of her heart rate returning to normal.

  Another Dreamer field agent met us from the shadows. “You two okay?”

  I nodded. “How many did we lose?”

  “Fifteen. We’re the only ones left of tonight’s squad.”

  I clenched my fist. The Regime lurked around for us like a spider — interconnecting its many resources to wipe Dreamers out. The thought made me sick, but between the lines each soldier had a story. They were just as much The Regime’s pawns as we were their prey.

  “Hello?” the small girl quivered.

  Enya’s expression softened. “It’s okay, Sweetie. You’re safe.”

  She approached the girl and placed a hand on her dainty shoulder. The small girl shivered.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “I-Ivory. Ivory Glenn.”

  Enya glanced at Ivory. “I’m gonna remove that stupid bag off your head, okay?”

  She cut the rope near the girl’s neck and removed the bag to reveal Ivory’s face: dark skin, a round face, and then light pink irises. The outer corner of one of her eyes carried an etched silver star, one of the marks of a Dreamer with magic.

  Ivory collapsed into the snow and locked away any secrets she held behind her closed eyes.

  TWO

  Ambert

  I twisted back to the stove, careful not to burn the eggs. Ivory was starved thin. Food was the first thing she needed despite any of The Committee’s clearances.

  Field agents were unauthorized to use Safe Haven’s rations, but that didn’t stop me from using it for our job: protecting and gathering Dreamers. Ivory was a Dreamer in need, and we had to do anything to ensure her safety.

  Enya left moments before to alert The Committee. That gave me time to myself, even with Ivory unconscious in the room. Cal, Wes, and the others were fast asleep.

  After I sat the eggs on an adjacent counter, I unzipped my backpack. Forty-seven containers were packed away inside. The Commander always sent Mr. Knight more for me: injectable with a slight blue tint. I was lucky to get to snatch them from his cabinet after freeing Enya.

  Rolling up my sleeve, I applied an alcohol wipe to my upper arm. My hand clasped a needle and drew two inches of solution from one bottle. I injected it and placed pressure on the site for a few seconds. It might’ve stopped me from having dreams and who knew what else, but it was better than risking Cal’s safety.

  “Wow. You still have your Antiserum!” a small voice giggled behind me.

  I half-expected Ivory to be talking but she didn’t wear pink-ribboned pigtails. This tween girl’s eye color matched the darkness around us, the ink color in her irises a midnight abyss layered with mystery behind them. She helped Zeke stitch my leg wound, and because of that, I owed her a debt I could never repay.

  The needle slipped from my hand and clinked to the floor. “Mai— Didn’t know anyone else was up.”

  “I just wanted a glass of water.” Mai’s grin curved to the left side. “I won’t tell anybody about the Antiserum.”

  “Thanks.” I retrieved my needle and wrapped it in a cloth to dispose it in the nearby trash shoot.

  Mai cleared her throat. “Is this a new girl?”

  “Enya and I found her outside the cave. She’s exhausted.”

  “Out like a little light, huh?”

  “Weren’t you getting water?”

  She turned the handle on the rusted sink and poured herself a glass. “I wanted to talk. You seem lonely by yourself.”

  “I’m used to it.”

  “So— why do you have that Antiserum?” Mai slurped the water from her glass.

  “You’re just like Cal. Too curious for your own good.”

  “Just one question: Why are you a field agent? You got shot before. I remember helping Zeke stitch you up.”

  I chuckled. “I’m the only one who graduated military school with top marks. I’d ban myself from fieldwork anyway if I had a choice.”

  “Wow—” Mai yawned.

  “You should get some sleep.”

  Mai nodded. As soon as she skipped out of the kitchen, Ivory jerked upright and looked around.

  Ivory’s taffy-pink eyes searched mine. “Where’s Stella?”

  “Who?”

  “My sister. We were trying to find the cave when—” her eyes watered. “Oh no! No! No!”

  “We’ll find her,” I reassured her. It was the best thing I could do.

  She squeezed me. “We have to! We were picking roses, but The Regime caught us. Because of me. Yeah, that’s right— and—”

  I stopped her. “It’s okay, Ivory. You’re in Safe Haven.”

  “Then I made it?” the ten-year-old blinked. “I actually did it!”

  I placed a finger on my lips. “The others are asleep.”

  Ivory covered her mouth and gazed at the eggs. She glanced at me with puppy-dog eyes and licked her chapped lips.

  “Go on. They’re yours.” I handed her the food I prepared.

  She gulped them down like a hungry wolf, let out a belch, and wiped her face with her sleeve. “Oops— sor
ry—”

  “Let’s get you situated.” I took her hand.

  After I set up her sleeping bag, Ivory settled with the others. I was going to join her when something caught my eyes. A light gleamed from another room in the back of the cave. Unfamiliar voices lingered in that direction — like a meeting for a secret society.

  In a carved-out stone room, Wes played his tapes on a small VCR. Static faded in and out, and two figures appeared on the screen. Wes was a perfect blend of the two — blond, blue-eyed, and sneaky.

  He watched — getting glimpses of the people he cared about most but never touched. Candles flickered in the darkness and filled the room with the hope Wes carried with him.

  “We’re expecting your baby sister soon.” Mr. Peterson adjusted the thick glasses on his face. “And we’ll all be together.”

  I sat beside Wes. “Do you still have that tape from the warehouse?”

  He nodded and held it out to reveal the label: ‘Final Words. Watch Together.’

  “I’d overrun every city if that’d mean we’d find her.” Wes' eyes burned with determination — he’d do anything for his sister.

  "We’re doing everything we can to rescue her from The Regime."

  Wes got up from his spot. He grabbed a backpack of supplies and strolled to the cave’s entrance with a new willpower.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “Look. I appreciate the help you’ve given and all, but this is my mess. I’ve gotta split. Especially if they’ve got her.”

  “Leaving is insane.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve got a duty. I’m not giving up on it.” Wes drew out a sharp breath. “Not when I’m so close.”

  “That would be suicide.” I grabbed his arm. “Besides, I wouldn’t have a best friend to talk to.”

  Wes jolted away from me and gripped onto his backpack. Glancing outside the cave room, his determined gaze faded to fear— fear of the unknown. He swallowed a lump in his throat and shifted his eyes back to the cave’s interior.