Inheritance by Malinda Lo Page B

declared THE BEGINNING OF THE END IS NEAR . And a whole bunch of them stated IMRIA = NEW WORLD ORDER .
    Reese’s parents shepherded her through the tourists and the gauntlet of protesters, but they couldn’t shield her from their emotions. The concentration of their anger was like static electricity on her skin. Their chanting grew louder and clearer as she and her parents approached. “Don’t believe the lies! They’re here to colonize! Protect the US border! Prevent the new world order!”
    The chanting began to break up as a new cry arose from the crowd on Reese’s right. She kept moving forward, head down and shoulders hunched, but out of the corner of her eye she saw the crowd roiling as if it were preparing to disgorge someone. A demonstrator yelled, “It’s her! Reese Holloway!”
    The sound of her name sent a shock through her. The sensation of the crowd’s anger changed; they turned their eyes to focus on her. As goose bumps rose all over her skin at the forceof their attention, she began to hear words in her mind as if her brain had suddenly tuned into someone else’s thoughts.
That girl—look—pushing—
    She knew instantly that the words were not the product of her own mind. They came from outside her just as the crowd’s emotions did. She remembered David describing hearing voices in his head like surfing through TV channels and catching disconnected snatches of dialogue. Was this what she was experiencing now? Were her abilities changing?
    She didn’t like it. Even though she was outdoors, she felt as if she were in a crowded warehouse where every sound echoed, creating a cacophony of psychic noise. She wanted to shrink back, but her parents tried to hurry her along, pushing her toward the onslaught.
    “We just have to get through the checkpoint,” her mom was saying.
    “Traitor!” someone screamed. “Traitor to humanity!”
    Reese Holloway—traitor—traitor—
    The metal barrier to Reese’s right clattered over. People poured over it, rushing toward her and her parents. The police shouted at them to get back, and Reese’s dad grabbed her arm, yanking her away. Her mom yelled, “Move! Move!”
    A man pushed through the mob and halted directly in front of her, blocking her way. He was breathing heavily and carrying a sign that read IMRIA = NEW WORLD ORDER , but he dropped it carelessly onto the ground as he reached for something inside his Windbreaker. Reese froze. The man’s eyes were wide and crystal blue, focused on her with a piercing hatred that felt like a physicalblow to her gut. He was in his twenties, with pale hair cut very close to his scalp. When his hand emerged from his jacket, he was holding a gun.
    Before Reese knew what was happening, both of her parents had knocked her flat onto the ground. Her mom’s body shuddered over hers, and Reese could feel her terror, bitter and sharp. Her father threw himself over the both of them, and someone was screaming, “He has a gun!”
    Reese was immobilized beneath her parents while other people’s emotions buffeted her from all sides. Anger pelted her like a sudden hailstorm while fear dragged at her limbs. She couldn’t distinguish her own feelings from the others’. She could barely breathe. She heard the gunman’s voice breaking through the cacophony, clear and sharp. “You’ve betrayed your own kind!
Hybrid monster.
” He grunted as if someone had punched him, and she heard the sound of someone’s body—his body—striking the pavement. The scrabbling, desperate sounds of a struggle reached her ears.
    All she could see was the ground. The asphalt was dark gray and splotchy near her head, where something had spilled and left a stain shaped like a pear. The street shook with footsteps. Police officers were nearby, yelling for the man to drop the weapon, to lie on the ground, to put his arms behind his back. The scraping sound of metal across concrete told her that the barrier was being pushed back into place. The chanting