Omen Operation Read Free

and sighed. Another morning in remote nowhere. Another day waiting to be notified of their clearance to dispatch. Another day waiting to go home.
    Home was different for everyone besides Gabriel and Brooklyn, seeing as they happened to live in the same city.
    Gabriel had been on pep squad, while Brooklyn had preferred soccer, and though they’d crossed paths a handful of times, neither one had ever introduced themselves to the other. Gabriel had been a junior when Brooklyn had been a senior. They were like ghosts haunting different parts of the school, sharing brief nods and a friendly “hello” on occasion.
    It had been four weeks after the initial outbreak in southern California when a gunmetal truck had dropped Gabriel off. Three days after Brooklyn had arrived. The younger looked scared, lost, and just like everyone else, she had raked her gaze across the grounds in search of anything relatively familiar. Brooklyn, shy and reclusive, had waved. Gabriel’s eyes had widened.
    “Hey, I know you, right?” was all Gabriel had said, and halfway through the question, she had linked her arm around Brooklyn’s elbow.
    It seemed so long ago.
    “Mornin’,” Porter said, clearing his throat.
    Brooklyn turned over on her side to face him, glancing briefly at the knife on the night stand. “Morning…”
    Porter had been going to med school before he’d landed himself in the camp. Lucky for them, he had ways to pull strings and get certain luxuries that other camps didn’t. He had an in ; someone in his family apparently was a main supervisor for the program, and he did his best to appeal to his comrades in Cabin A. Nail polish, literature, snacks, and sometimes a beer or two were thrown their way from the stock that Terry got off the provisions truck every month.
    Small things like a book and a bag of Skittles made life a little more manageable.
    “How’s that hand?” he asked, nudging his jaw forward before he sat up and slid his glasses on.
    “Seems fine.” Brooklyn shrugged and stretched out all her fingers, quirked her wrist to one side and then to the other.
    Porter nodded as he ran his fingers through the front of his short, dark locks, askew from restless sleep.
    Julian pawed at his eyes with the back of his hands and stumbled toward the communal wash room at the end of the cabin.
    “It’s guys’ turn to shower first. You might wanna wake her up,” Julian said to Brooklyn, waving lazily at Gabriel, who was hiding under her comforter.
    It took a couple shoves, a few aggravated shouts, and finally a promise of her choice of juice at breakfast for Brooklyn to coax Gabriel out of her nightly hibernation. Once awake, they brushed their teeth.
    Brooklyn looked at herself in the mirror as she washed the foam of the standard mint toothpaste out of the sink and tied her shoulder length hair into a ponytail. Her face was smooth, tanned from being outside even if the sun hardly made an appearance. She rolled her small, thin lips, and stared at the flecks of gold hidden inside raindrop shaped eyes. You’ve got Saturn’s rings in your eyes. That’s what her mother always said. She didn’t like looking at her own reflection anymore. Even though training in the camp had made her body stronger, Brooklyn missed her makeup bag and soccer cleats.
    Gabriel shouted for her from the front of the cabin, prompting her to strap on her running shoes, throw on sweatpants, and then run out the door.
    The dew on long strands of wild grass slid against Brooklyn’s ankles, and the sun tried its best to break through the heavy mist settled over the ravine where the camp resided. One of the fire pits still smoldered on the back side of the smallest cabin, and they watched a few other campers complete their morning runs around the edge of the territory. There weren’t any serious markers, just the outline of trees on all sides of them besides a dirt road that led out to a highway. They were secluded and, as Terry always liked to