They ran into a riot. 

Lina had used the word before in that sort of semi-ironic way that she used a lot of words.  It meant people were complaining or people really wanted that TV. 

This was an as-seen-on-TV genuine screaming riot. 

Nobody was breaking windows, sure, but that’s because there were no windows.  The amphitheater was this great (normally) natural bowl-shaped formation that opened to a waterfall in the back and the lake on the left. It had three bottleneck entrances and, at the moment, it looked like the guards were trying to keep people from leaving, so nobody tried to stop Lina and Jackson from entering. 

She wasn’t quite sure why they did, but even as she had that thought she pulled up a shield in front of them.  “What the – what the hell?”

She couldn’t be heard over the shouting.  She could barely hear herself over the yelling. 

She grabbed someone who was carrying a third of a broken lawn chair. “What’s going on?” Continue reading →

“Think about it.”  Jackson grinned brightly.  “Showing them this when you’re already good enough to do something like that!”

Lina twisted her face up.  “I’d uh, rather not. I mean.  If they wanted this, they’re going to be pissed.  If they didn’t want it, ditto.”

“Why would they be pissed if they wanted it?”  Jackson’s brow furrowed for a moment before he frowned. “Oh.”  He sounded like it tasted bad. “Because you didn’t tell them?”

“Yeah…”  She watched him carefully.  Was he mad at her about keeping it a secret?  What would she do if he was?

“So you have to have a reason that it’s okay to tell them now and not before.  School? I mean, hrrm…” He shook his head. “No, they’d have lied to school and you probably can’t pretend to not know that.”

Lina found herself smiling.  “You’re gonna help me find a way to tell them?” Continue reading →

Lina and Jackson got to the parking lot, or, rather, they got to the campground side of the parking lot — a strange stretch with some Uhauls and vans, box trucks and the like cheek to jowl with Bentlies and Beemers, Mercedes and Corvettes. 

Another woman in a robe stopped them.  “Sorry, kids. Nobody in, nobody out, we’re locking down.  The boss got a bug in his bonnet and we’re getting ready for the final — well, you know.

Lina didn’t know at all, but she looked at Jackson, who looked guilty and huffed.  “We just want to go into town for a couple hours?” he wheedled. “It’s not like town is dangerous.  It’s barely downhill from here.”

“Sorry, no exceptions.  Go to the water if you want some recreation.  If you want some recreation, I won’t notice if the pavilion behind the food storage gets its lock picked. Just lock it again behind you if you can.” Continue reading →

Warning: Discussion of racism

“We could all—” Lina flailed her hands, “– be sitting here & die while some other Hill Top is safe?”

“Well, if so, we’ll be in the majority?” His smile was crooked.  “Most people agree that this is the place. That’s why Dylan and Ethan’s fathers are here.  And my mother — my parents — and probably your parents. “

“Dylan said I didn’t belong here,” she muttered. “So did his buddy.”

“Yeah, well, they’re assholes.  You literally held them in the air with the power of your mind.  You belong here. And if they’re stupid about your mother — because that’s probably the problem, between you and me,” he sighed.  He caught himself and huffed. “Sorry, that’s—” He stared at his pizza, attacked it, and was quiet for a moment, mouth full. 

Lina took the chance to take a couple bites of pizza herself, thought about what he was saying and not, and grabbed the soda to wash down the pizza.

“So you’re saying they’re racists.” Continue reading →

It wasn’t even a very long dream!

“Look.”  Dylan shifted a little, trying to get comfortable with her shield wrapped around his throat. “You actually belong here, I mean, your family belongs here, your father is on the board.  He is,” he added sideways to the tall one. “And your mother — I figured out who your mother is.  You belong here.”

“Not what you were saying earlier,” she pointed out.  She was not feeling charitable and they were not listening. 

“All right, so — well.”  The third person came up behind her.  She was out of hands. Lina made a soft grumbling noise of warning, but she didn’t dare turn around. 

“Okay, I think I convinced the guy that he tripped really badly trying to get up here.  It’s just a pizza, you know, guys. It really wasn’t — Miss? I think Dylan’s lips are turning blue.”

“He has air.”  She didn’t spare him a look yet. “They’re missing the point.” Continue reading →

It wasn’t even a very long dream!

Content warning for violence here.

The thing about the house her mother had — magicked up?  Unfolded? — had unfolded was that, while it was plenty bigger than, say, an RV or a tent, it was not as big as their house back home, and that meant that Lina spent a lot more time bumping into her parents. 

This was exacerbated by the fact that her parents were around more.  Her father usually spent all day at work; now he was sitting on the porch making phone calls, or sitting in the back sun room making phone calls, or pacing in the living room… making phone calls.  

She was beginning to think that all her father did was make phone calls. Endless phone calls with endless people, all of them full of endless jargon.

Or maybe he was feeling trapped, too, and phone calls were the only way he could get out. Continue reading →

This series continues

Lina did not jump.  Much. She turned to look at the woman who had spoken. 

She was wearing a much more formal-looking — no, that was the wrong word.  It was nicer looking, but also looked more like it had been cut to fit her — version of the robe that the shitty kid was wearing, hers with a crest over the chest.  She had golden hair pulled into a very practical-looking ponytail and, if she was wearing make-up, it was very understated. 

She looked a lot more working-class than most of the women here.  She also looked a little scary. 

“Ma’am?”  Lina didn’t move her hands.  She tried not to look threatening anyway. 

“We can be here!” the guy told her.  “My father is —” Continue reading →