Domination (A C.H.A.O.S. Novel) - By Jon Lewis Page 0,11

ignorant.

“I can’t believe they’re going to make it into a movie.”

“Yeah, me either.”

“You have no idea what we’re talking about, do you?” Miranda asked.

“Not exactly.”

“That’s so cute.”

Colt blushed.

“They’re making your biography into a movie,” she said.

“Wait, what?”

“Someone wrote an unauthorized biography about you, and a studio bought the movie rights. They hired a screenwriter and everything.”

“Look, I’m sorry, but I’m late and I . . . um . . . have to get going.” Colt figured it was just a rumor. Why would anyone want to make a movie about him? Especially with the world falling apart. Making a movie—any movie—seemed so meaningless.

“What are you doing for lunch?” Miranda asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe we could sit together.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Colt cut across the lawn, frost crunching beneath his boots as he tried to make sense of what just happened. Miranda hadn’t said a word to him since they arrived, and suddenly she wanted to sit with him at lunch? Maybe she was a shape-shifting assassin sent to take him out. Or maybe he was losing his mind.

He passed the bronze statue of the Phantom Flyer, who also happened to be his grandfather, Murdoch McAlister. Colt was about to head into the commissary when he saw a group of cadets from Blizzard, Lightning, Anvil, and a few other squads, so he dashed across the lawn to see what was going on.

Fighting was part of the curriculum at the CHAOS Military Academy, but brawling outside of class was strictly forbidden. Still, curiosity trumped his hunger, and he headed over to see who was stupid enough to risk cleaning the public restrooms with a toothbrush. He stopped when he saw the first combatant.

“Jonas?”

Jonas Hickman was short, plump, incredibly shy, and quite possibly the most intelligent person—faculty included—on the entire campus. He graduated from the Georgia Institute of Technology with a degree in computer science when he was only twelve and got his master’s in robotics from Carnegie Mellon University the day before his fourteenth birthday. He had been brought to CHAOS not to learn how to fight on the front lines but as part of the team working on advanced weapons systems, and even though he had been assigned to Phantom Squad, he wasn’t much of a fighter. But when Colt saw who was standing across from him, it all made sense.

“Let me see your ring, Hiccup,” Pierce Bowen said with his familiar sneer.

Jonas cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up off the end of his nose. “It’s Hickman.”

“Whatever. Just let me see it.” Pierce grabbed him by the wrist and ripped the ring from Jonas’s finger. “I mean, we’re on the same squad, right? We’re supposed to share stuff.”

“Please,” Jonas said. “It’s . . . it’s . . .”

“It’s what?” Pierce said.

“An heirloom.”

“Since when is a stupid Phantom Flyer ring an heirloom?”

“Give it to me!” Jonas lunged for the ring, but Pierce swept the other boy’s leg out from under him and he fell.

“Leave him alone.” Stacy Watson pushed through the crowd and planted herself directly in front of Pierce.

Like Pierce and Jonas, she was a member of Phantom Squad. Her ginger hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she had skin the color of flour with a smattering of freckles that dusted her nose. She was also the first girl Colt had met who actually knew as much about the Phantom Flyer as he did, and between that and her emerald eyes, he was intrigued.

“Or what?” Pierce said, crossing his arms.

Stacy shook her head. “You’re supposed to have his back. Never mind the fact that he’s working on the prototype for a weapon that could take out a Thule carrier. So, yeah, I can see why beating him up makes so much sense.”

Pierce narrowed his eyes and took a step toward her, his fists clenched.

“Hitting her is only going to make things worse.” Colt walked over and helped Jonas to his feet. His skin was rough like a lizard’s or a shark’s, which was strange considering that Jonas didn’t exactly use his hands for physical labor.

“Stay out of it,” Pierce said. “Besides, we were only messing around.”

“Give him the ring,” Stacy said.

“I tell you what,” Pierce said. “I’ll give it to you for a kiss.”

“Not a chance.” Stacy snatched the ring away and handed it to Jonas.

“We used to do a lot more than kiss,” Pierce said.

Stacy spun on her heels, eyes narrow and face red with anger. “Don’t.”

“What’s wrong, you don’t want your new boyfriend to hear about how you