Read Vigilante 01 - Who Knows the Storm for Free Online Page B

work, or running out to the theater. On the rare occasion of his father being in town and his mother feeling well, Nox and his parents might walk down to Columbus and have dinner at the little Italian place with the great garlic bread. Nox would sit on the stoop of the townhouse and talk to Lidia, his neighbor and fellow classmate at Trinity. Or he’d go to his room and listen to music while playing video games with his friends.
    Simple life, beautiful city.
    Sometimes it occurred to him that Sam had never experienced that. He didn’t know the simple pleasures of life. He had no memories of indulgent Christmases or vacations to St. Bart’s.
    He’d never been off the Island.
    He didn’t know his parents.
    Aside from Nox, everyone who’d ever cared for him was gone now.
    Well, that was something they had in common.
    Nox sat in the recliner, rereading The Art of War as the grandfather clock ticked behind him like an ancient sentry. It had survived everything—storms and looters and violence. Every click reminded Nox of the slow and steady road of life. You couldn’t let anything throw you off-balance.
    Soft footsteps caught his attention; he looked up to see Sam in the archway of the study, his face drawn and pale.
    “I need to tell you something,” he murmured. His glasses were sliding down to the end of his nose, dark curls a mess, like he had been pulling at his hair in frustration. He was still dressed in his uniform, wrinkled and untidy in a way he never was.
    “Okay.” Nox closed the book, taking his time to put it on the side table.
    “I….” Sam swallowed, fists clenching and releasing over and over at his side. “Someone came to the house today and gave me a letter.”
    “I know. I saw him.” Nox waited a beat, folding his hands in his lap. “Who is he?”
    “I don’t know,” Sam said, shaking his head. He looked genuinely surprised by the entire situation. “He knew my name and gave me this letter.” A white square materialized from behind Sam’s back.
    Sam looked rattled, which made Nox’s heart thump dramatically in his chest.
    “What did it say?” He kept his voice even.
    Tears sprang to Sam’s amber eyes; he extended the letter as if to give it to Nox but pulled it back at the last second. “It says… it says that they might be able to help me find my parents.”
    The room tilted. Nox tripped out of the chair, the furniture crashing and falling around him. It had to be real, not a figment of his imagination, because Sam’s words were amongst the worst he could have heard.
    Because he knew that that was impossible. No one could find Sam’s parents because they were dead.
    The anvil dropped between them.
    Tick, tick, tick.
    Nox stood up slowly. He didn’t like to use his size against Sam; the boy was slim and small, and Nox stood a head taller, his wide shoulders casting a shadow over Sam’s form.
    Finding his real parents—a quest Sam had become fixated on in recent years. He’d starting asking when he was seven and realized that babies came out of ladies and there weren’t any of them in his life.
    “Sam, I’ve told you all I know,” he lied. “There isn’t anything else. That night was pure chaos….” Nox poured every ounce of sincerity into his words. “So many people were killed….”
    “I know—and I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me, Dad. You saved me, but I just—I just want to know what happened to them,” Sam said, words chasing and tripping over each other, ending with a choked sound. “Or just their names, okay? Like, if I could just have that… I just want to know.”
    Nox felt like someone had ripped his chest open, exposing heart and lungs to the cool air. He nodded, though, just a small movement to show he was listening. “What else did the letter say?” Nox asked, his voice measured. “Was there any other information?”
    Sam shook his head. “Nothing else. The person just told me he could help me find them.”
    “You know