Read The Unfinished World (The Armor of God Book 2) for Free Online Page B

Garros brought his hand up to the tender skin, and smiled even if it appeared to sting to the touch. “This was your work, by the way.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Nah. That was a terrible way for me to react, but I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. You took a good swing, too. You are deceptively strong,” he said and laughed. “Though I remember you knocking Dr. Yuri down on his ass. That was pretty great.”
    “I don’t,” said Ezra. He had been told that upon awakening from the fugue that led to The Shattering, his first reaction had been to take a swing at Dr. Yuri, whom he mistakenly recognized as the cause of all his pain—an enemy. He didn’t remember any of that, and he was glad.
    “Poor guy,” said Garros and sighed, giving a moment of silence to the memory of Dr. Yuri, of whom they had not really talked since his death.
    The sound of rainfall was the dead man’s only elegy.
    “I never got along with him, but . . . he had the right ideas,” Garros said. “At least he wanted to save us, and not just let us . . . die . It’s hard to believe there are some folks who would let all of humanity go so easily.”
    “I’m sorry about what I said, by the way,” said Ezra. “I know you care about Erin.”
    “Of course I do. I love her,” he said. Ezra didn’t remember him ever admitting to that particular feeling; he had always thought the nature of their relationship was not very profound. When he took a deep breath, he shivered, and not because of the cold. “And I care about the others in Zenith. Maybe I just don’t want to believe what you said happened when you left—about Tessa, and Barnes . . . and Kat.”
    He had never heard Garros talk this way; he had always been a source of levity in a world of gravity. Maybe there were feelings deep inside him that overlapped with Ezra’s. It could just be the land—seeing the green put a new perspective on what they were trying to achieve out in the sick wild. Suddenly the possibility of a green earth was real, and not just a hopeful dream.
    But that possibility was not comforting; quite the contrary. With it came the considerable weight of failure, and it all rested on so few shoulders.
    Garros opened his mouth to let some of the rain in. Using his huge, tattooed hands, he squeezed his beard like it was a rag, and the water it had collected fell in a short stream. “I hope this rain isn’t infected,” he said and chuckled.
    It was something Ezra hadn’t even considered. “I thought the virus couldn’t live in water.”
    “I’m pretty sure it can’t; but hey, if you see me begin to turn into a damn Trooper or something, just be quick about it.” Garros laughed and Ezra didn’t.
    With that tasteless joke, Ezra could only think of Subject Edward: Jena’s father, turned into a monster and killed by Besoe Nandi at Ezra’s command. It was a painful secret he would have to carry to his grave.
    “No, it can’t live in water, Ezra,” said Jena, joining them as though his thoughts had summoned her. Ezra turned around and saw she was a few feet behind him. “I knew you were paying attention in Dr. Mizrahi’s class.”
    “Dammit, Crescent, how long have you been there?” Garros yelled. “I’m trying to have a big brother moment here!”
    Ezra actually laughed, and it felt good.
    “I know; please don’t stop on my account, because you were doing pretty well,” she smiled. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your bonding session, but I really didn’t want to be alone down there.”
    “Fine,” Garros said. “And Erin?”
    “Asleep. She said she needed only a few hours, and she’d be good to go,” said Jena and began to crab-walk down the hill, closer to Ezra, until she sat right next to him. She was warm, even under the rain. “You know what’s really strange about these islands?”
    “What’s that?” asked Ezra. She locked her arm with his. He looked down at the new link made between them, and wondered what in the perfect