Burn this City: A Dystopian Novel

by Brenda Poppy

  The broadcast cut off abruptly. Burn sat there silently, staring at the now-dark screen for a time before looking up at Hale.

  “They blamed it on us?” she asked incredulously. She couldn’t believe it. After everything they’d done, everything they’d worked for, they’d been labeled as terrorists, enemies of the city.

  But instead of being angry, Hale smiled. “It was bound to happen,” he said calmly. “They couldn’t have it look like they’d been plotting against their own citizens. We were a convenient scapegoat.” He let out a long breath before continuing.

  “Most of the citizens out there know the truth, though. Or they at least suspect it. And they want to help us fight. The Peace Force is weak. They’ve lost one of their highest-ranking officials – and a lot of their men. And some of the officers that remain are starting to question their allegiances. We finally have the opportunity to rise up and fight for a better life.”

  Burn closed her eyes and rubbed at her face with her battered hands. She was sick of fighting, tired of the bloodshed and pain. She wanted it to be over, to go home and find Scar there, working on her harebrained creations like always. Scar. The thought of her sister sent a silent sob through her body, filling her with pain. Scar was gone. And she was never coming back.

  Another moment of silence lapsed, then Hale spoke, his voice gentle. “Listen, you don’t have to be a part of this. You’ve done more than enough already. The Peace Force doesn’t know our identities. They can’t pick us out with any certainty. If you want, you can go home and leave all of this behind.”

  Burn couldn’t even process his words, not because they didn’t make sense but because she couldn’t envision a future for herself, not one without Scar in it. They had been a team for so long, just the two of them against the world, that she didn’t know what she would do now that it was only her.

  Instead of responding to his statement, she asked quietly, “What happened to them? The ones that didn’t make it. Did you bring them back? Or…did you leave them?” She needed to know.

  Hale cleared his throat, thrown by the question. “We were able to bring some of them home. Like Pierce and Brindle. But we had to leave some of them behind. Like Shaw. And Ramus.” His voice broke for the first time as he said their names, acknowledging their sacrifice.

  “And Scar?” Burn’s voice was so quiet that it was barely above a whisper. She closed her eyes, dreading his response. Neither scenario would make her feel better. But if she could see her sister, maybe hold her one last time…maybe it would lessen the pain. Nothing would ever fix it, she knew.

  A few tense seconds passed, but Hale didn’t speak. Burn opened her eyes to find him looking at her, his head cocked and a strange expression on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again, like he wasn’t sure how to tell her. Instead, he got up from his chair and walked out of the room, leaving her alone in her confusion.

  Burn was stunned and hurt. Why couldn’t he just tell her? Each second she dwelt on it, it became more and more difficult to bear, threatening to crush her. A few tears escaped as she fought to keep control.

  Then she heard his footsteps returning, this time accompanied by another pair. She looked up as he re-entered the room. But it wasn’t Hale. It was Scar.

  Burn’s heart broke and healed and broke again a million times in the blink of an eye. She couldn’t believe the sight in front of her, and her brain tried to convince her that she was still in a dream. Or that Coal was playing a terrible trick on her. But it was Scar. It was really her.

  “How?” she breathed out, choking back the tears that threatened to fall. “How are you alive? I saw Cross shoot you in the heart. I held your body.”

  Her sister smiled, and it was enough for the tears to break through and begin streaming down Burn’s face. It was Scar, alive and smiling and right in front of her, close enough to touch.

  “I’m tougher than you know, little sister,” Scar said. With that she pulled down the hem of her tunic, revealing where the bullet had struck her. It had indeed been aimed at her heart. And there, marring the smooth surface of metal that covered her chest, was a dent.

  Burn found herself smiling through the tears. Her sister truly was tougher than she had known. She opened her arms as wide as she could, beckoning her sister forward into a hug. Burn squeezed her tightly with her good arm, relishing the feel of Scar’s cold metallic skin against her own.

  After a time, when all the tears had been shed and Burn’s mind had finally accepted that her sister was well and truly alive, they sat together on the bed and talked. Scar filled her in on the parts of the battle she had missed, adding color and detail to Hale’s story.

  They talked for a long time before Burn finally had the courage to ask about Symphandra. She watched as her sister’s face fell, an expression of deep sadness and pain contorting her features.

  “She didn’t make it,” Scar said, her head bowed. “By the time I got to her, it was already too late. She was gone.” Burn reached out a hand and placed it on top of Scar’s in a gesture of silent consolation.

  Her heart was also heavy with loss, but she couldn’t even begin to imagine what Scar was feeling. To finally find love then to have it ripped away so soon was a cruel trick of fate. She closed her eyes and saw everything the two could have had, everything they could have shared if things had been different.

  It was in that moment that she decided to keep on fighting. It wasn’t a sudden choice – or even one she was aware she had made – but from that moment on, she knew she couldn’t sit by and watch the people she loved suffer. She had to take a stand, to do what she could to save Kasis and the people in it. Even if she had to burn this city to the ground to do it.

  Epilogue

  A few hours later, when she’d regained enough of her strength to get to her feet and walk around unassisted, Burn made her way down the hall. They were once again in the Lunaria’s secondary safe house, which had been transformed into a pseudo hospital to treat their injured troops. Burn was only one of the many individuals currently receiving care under its roof.

  She trekked down the hallway slowly, her body protesting the movements. Crete had done as much as he could, with assistance from a few on-site medics, but she still had a long way to go before she’d be back in fighting form. So she took her time, pausing halfway down the stairs to gather her strength before continuing her descent. She reached her destination – the door at the end of the hallway – and paused before scanning her finger on the pad to gain entry.

  Kaz looked worlds better than he had the last time she’d seen him. He had washed and changed, and his wounds had been treated and wrapped in bandages. His room, too, was unrecognizable, with a bed and a wash basin and a cozy chair draped in a blanket.

  He didn’t look up when Burn entered, his face buried in a book as he lay on the bed. She made her way carefully to the chair, settling herself down and considering him. After a beat, he looked up, putting a marker in his book and placing it on the bed beside him. Sighing, he swung his body around to face her.

  Noticing her wounds for the first time, his face softened into a look of concern before he could put up his guard. She let him look for a moment, allowing him to take in her battered state before she spoke.

  “I promised if we got through this that I would make sure you were released,” she said, her eyes looking straight into his. “I’m a woman of my word. I don’t know what’s out there for you, but you’re free to find out. We won’t stop you.”

  Kaz looked dubious, as if she were trying to trick him in some way. His eyes narrowed as he said, “But I know who you are. I’ve seen your face – and others. Aren’t you afraid I’ll turn you in or something?”

  “No,” Burn said quietly but confidently. “I trust you.” And it was true. Despite his past, despite the fact that he had been one of them, she did trust him.

  “Why?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why would you trust me?”

  “Be
cause you’re like us,” she said simply.

  He cocked an eyebrow at her. “What? Are you implying I have some sort of hidden desire to free the people, to fight the power?”

  She gave a light laugh. “Yes…and no.” He waited for her to expand on this, a look of mild amusement on his face. “You’re a good man. You want to do what’s right – and you know that the Peace Force hasn’t been right for a long time. Just like my dad knew it. You want to help people, to give them the protection you didn’t have – or the protection your family didn’t have.” Kaz nodded, considering her words.

  “But that’s not what I meant when I said you’re like us,” she continued, looking for the right words to explain it. “You’re…gifted.”

  His head shot up at that, a look of confusion written on his face. “I’m not…” he started to protest, stuttering. Burn held up a hand to stop him.

  “I should have realized it the night we met,” she explained, shaking her head. “I’m not an easy person to sneak up on. I can hear people coming from three tiers away. Yet somehow I could never hear you, even when you were right behind me. I would turn around and there you were, no sound, no warning.

  “You said you grew up down there,” she said, indicating the lower tiers. “It makes sense. Didn’t you ever question why the man who killed your mom and sister didn’t hear you – a man who was probably gifted himself? Or why you were such a ‘natural’ on the force?”

  He shook his head, trying to shake off the idea that he was like her, that he was different, a mutant. But it all added up. She watched as he put the pieces of his life together, assembling them according to this new information.

  “It’s like super stealth or something,” she continued. “The perfect spy. And it’s only a matter of time before the force realizes it, too. And they’ll either use you as a pawn in their game or lock you up with the other freaks and throw away the key.”

  “And what?” he asked, immediately going on the defensive. “You want me to use my powers for good? To join you so you can use me as a pawn against the Peace Force?”

  “No,” Burn said calmly. “I want you to leave.” With that, she stood up and walked out the door, leaving it open behind her.

  Acknowledgement

  This whole thing started as a dream. An actual dream while I was asleep – one in which people with crazy powers battled each other to the death and a giant land-based octopus held me captive in an underground lair. Needless to say, I had to tone it down a bit for the actual book.

  However, the real story of how this book came to be started with COVID-19, and it was far more difficult than a plot just coming to me in my dreams. Like thousands of people throughout the country, I was downsized when coronavirus struck, leaving me stranded. I didn’t know what to do with myself each day, how to get out of bed and keep moving. My only other creative output, local theater, closed its doors due to the virus and left me without a place to feel at home. So I created my own.

  I had always wanted to write a book. I studied journalism in school, wrote for national print publications, and helped companies tell their own stories through print and digital avenues. Of course, I always had a book or two on the back burner. But I’d never had the time or creative energy to fully invest in a story, to shape its characters and mold its plot in the way that I wanted.

  Then this “new normal” came, bringing the world to a standstill, and I found myself with all the time in the world. I could no longer go outside, see friends, or do the things I loved. But through Auburn I could. Creating Kasis and its inhabitants allowed me the chance to go on an adventure, a journey that was denied to me in real life because of the threat lurking just outside my door.

  As I wrote, striking similarities became clear between the world I was creating and the one in which I was living. It was a world where prejudice and discrimination flourished, where those in power used their positions to further their own goals instead of those of their people, where even the air was dangerous and wearing a mask was the only way to protect yourself. When these very same issues began to dominate the daily headlines, it became more important than ever that I finish what I’d started.

  With this book, I hope people find a way to escape their lives and delve into something new and magical, a story that sweeps them away and inspires their imaginations. But I also hope that it makes them question what is and encourages them to consider what could be. Burn this City would never have come to be without the constant support and encouragement of my husband, Robert. He believed that I could do it when I didn’t.

  Thank you to my friends and beta readers: Robert Herlache, Melissa Graham, and Kayla Suhm. Your feedback and encouragement helped bring this story to life and I will be forever grateful.

  And thank you to everyone who has read this book. You have made my dream come true in more ways than one! If you’ve enjoyed the journey this book has taken you on, please consider leaving a review on Amazon. You can also join my mailing list on glassfishpublishing.com to be notified of events, contests, and new releases – including the next book in the Burn this City series!

  About the Author

  Brenda Poppy has spent more than a decade writing and editing for publications across the country, as well as lending her writing and graphic design talents to companies to help them craft their brands. With a degree in journalism and sociology from Marquette University, she loves to seek out unique stories and capture them for others to enjoy. When not writing, the Milwaukee native can be found acting in local theater, spending time with her adorable corgi, Darcy, or traveling around the world with her husband in search of craft cocktails, good food, and inspiration for her next novel.

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