Thanks for reading this! I know not a lot of people have read the Darkest Minds on FanFiction, but they totes should. BEST. BOOK. EVER. LIAMXRUBY LIAMXRUBY LIAMRUBY SHIP SHIP SHIP SHIP SHIP SHIP SHIP SHIP
(Don't mind me)
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Prologue
It all seemed like a big joke. The Psi disease. Kids disappearing by the thousands. Strange and dangerous powers. It was just like the movies my dad watched in the basement, that I would be too scared to see. With the aliens and robots. When kids in our town started dying, my mom told me I was going to be fine, because I was a good child and nothing would happen to me. My twin sister and I were only six at the time. Our younger brother died within a month. But Elizabeth and I lived on.
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"Ryan. I'm scared," Lizzie whispered to me, "What are we gonna do?"
I hushed her. We were crowded between two green rusty dumpsters in an alley, "Let's hide till they leave town... They won't find us."
We had been on the run for five days. Two men in black uniforms and a white van had been chasing us for days. They had these scary big dogs that had bitten me. Our parents had tried to send us to a camp when Lizzie nearly burned our house to ashes. I didn't know much about the color system, but I knew Lizzie was red. And we all knew what happened to the red ones. A dog barked in the distance. I froze.
"Ryan!" Lizzie hissed, "They're coming!"
"I know, I know!" I muttered panic rising in my chest, "Wait one second, I'll look around. Don't move."
I got up and slid out of the crack between the dumpsters. I stepped very carefully over cans and wrappers littered around. I came to the mouth of the alley and looked around. No sign of anyone. I sighed with relief. I heard a whimper behind me. I turned on my heel and choked in horror.
The man with the sunglasses had Lizzie in a headlock, with a gun pressed against her head. She was crying, silent tears streaming down her face. Run, she mouthed, run.
"Don't move, ducky, or I'll put a bullet through her head." He said with a surprisingly pleasant voice tilted with a southern accent.
"What do you want?" I choked out, my voice hoarse and wavering.
"Which one of you is that red? They gave us a picture, but you two are the spitting image of each other." He chuckled, "Spit it out, or I'll send you both to hell the hard way."
"I'm the red." I surprised myself with my confident voice, "I'll come with you quietly, if you let Elizabeth go."
He strangely believed me, "Walkover here slow, with your hands over your head," he nodded as I did what he said, "Sit down with your back to me."
I dropped to my knees, facing away. The man grabbed my hands and cuffed them roughly behind my back, with real metal handcuffs. Them he pulled me to my feet and I felt him press the gun to my head.
"You better run little girl, or I'll take you too," he growled to Lizzie.
She turned and ran, tears pouring down her cheeks. She didn't even glance back at me. I heard her footsteps fade, not once faltering. Not once did she even so my as try to say she was sorry. Or even thank me. I felt a lump rise in my throat. Did my sister even care? In the corner of my eye I saw the man swing the butt of his gun towards me. I could barely moved as he slammed it down on my head. I saw blood pour down my salty cheeks and drip on my shirt, before I slumped to a heap, my eyes level with the cans and wrappers.
"Lizzie..." I whispered to myself, "Why did you leave me to die?"
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