Read Dead Girl Running (The New Order Book 1) for Free Online

sacks hanging off of each arm. “As you can see, I also had some free time today.”
    I carefully set the sheet back on the table. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
    “Don’t worry. I don’t mind. I think I’ve already told you this, but before I spent ten years in medical school, I used to work in theater and costume design.”
    “Yeah. I vaguely remember that.”
    He rearranges the table, sorting the pieces by size. “Do you have any idea what this is?”
    I shake my head.
    Gus grins. “It’s magic. Here, I’ll show you.” He sets his arm on the table, dips an applicator in adhesive, and then brushes it across his skin. He picks up one of the smaller sheets and smoothes it onto his arm.
    “And now, the final touches.” Gus grabs another applicator, mixes pink, red, and purple powders, then dabs them in an expanding pattern on his skin. “Viola! A birthmark.”
    I touch his arm. “But it looks so
real
.”
    “Of course it does. I used to be quite good at this. Naturally, you have to modify your technique for something up close versus from the stage.”
    “I’m impressed. What else can you do?” Gus is amazing. So many hidden talents.
    “I could make you look ten or sixty. I could make you black, white, or any shade in between. I never got too good with reshaping noses, but—”
    “How about burns? Can you do burns?” The question bursts out before I can think about it.
    Gus flinches.
    “Come on. I’ve been here three years now. You never let me see the burn victims. You don’t have to keep protecting me like that. I
want
to know what it looks like.” I need to see it for myself, since that’s what happened to Dad. That would make his death more real because I need to believe he’s gone. A tiny part of me keeps hoping that, someday, he’ll come back. It doesn’t make any sense, but sometimes I feel like, instead of The New Order, it’s
him
who’s watching me.
    Gus pauses. “That’s a bit more difficult. Give me your hand.”
    I pull up my sleeve and rest my arm on the cool metal table. I don’t mind if Gus sees my scars. Instead, he concentrates on the transformation. After applying adhesive, he layers three sheets over my hand and wrist, scrunching them in spots and stretching them in others. He dips into the colors over and over again. Sweat beads on his brow as he labors. Fifteen minutes later, he sets down the last applicator.
    “Well, Silvia, what do you think?” he asks.
    I flex and extend my fingers. “It looks
awful
!” My skin appears raw, the fingers blackened and charred, the flesh pulling away from the bone. “This is amazing. It doesn’t look like makeup at all. It looks real. At least to me. Not that I’ve ever seen a burn victim up close before.”
    “Unfortunately, this is
precisely
what a burn victim looks like.” He sighs. “Now, you know why I don’t let you see them. Because that ten-year-old girl who lost her father is still alive inside you.”
    I hold up my hand in awe as flashes of my dad’s face and the layers of char on my flesh melt together in my mind. I move my fingers and images flicker in my head of all the workers who burned to death in the fiery explosion. After the accident, the news focused on the story for days, posting pictures of the victims smiling with their families. The whole city mourned their demise while my eyes remained dry. Painfully so. I couldn’t grieve because I couldn’t believe Dad was really gone. It took the therapists a long time to convince me of the truth.
    My shoulders slump. “I get your point.”
    The back door of Mortuary Sciences slams open. A Handler in full black uniform marches two steps into the room and halts. “The bodies have all been loaded. We’re ready to go.”
    “We’ll be there in five minutes,” Gus replies.
    The Handler exits by the same door. Gus tosses his makeup supplies into a side drawer.
    “How do I get this off?” I ask, still staring at my deformed hand.
    He gestures toward the