Cinder X (Death Collectors, #2) by Jessica Sorensen Read Free Book Online

road instead of the dead people walking up and down the streets. There are more of them today; I spot at least five. I have no clue if they’re people who died here or if the Anamotti are scrounging for puppets elsewhere.
     
    There’s also a lot more living people out and about today. Usually, I only pass maybe six or seven, but I spot three crowds, plus ten individuals just on the main strip of town. The growing population only rises when I arrive at the campus and almost every parking spot is taken. Finally, I find one at the back, near the road, and maneuver my car into it.
     
    I haven’t been a fan of school at all lately. Never have been, even before the entire town thought I was a killer. So when I get ready to climb out of my car and my gut churns, I think it’s caused by my usual loathing towards school. When I make it across the parking lot and to the campus yard, I realize something’s off. People are filing in and out of the school entrance in a perfect line, their attention straight ahead on the person in front of them. They all move together in sync, taking steps together. It’s not the entire population of the school, but it’s enough people that I notice it.
     
    I swing the hand of my bag over my shoulder and hike across the grass underneath the shedding trees towards the entrance, pink and orange leaves covering the browning grass. My eyes are fixed on the people in line along with others wandering around who seem a little out of it, like they have no real direction. When I pass by one guy with long legs and broad shoulders, his gaze catches with mine and I swear to God his eyes briefly glow, but it’s just a flash and then he’s turning around to head off in the direction of the west entrance.
     
    I grow nervous with each step, especially when I pass by a few dead people roaming around, watching me with faint smiles. I keep my attention straight on the door, ignoring the rest of the looks I can feel boring into me. I tell myself that it’s just my imagination, which feels like the biggest lie I’ve ever told myself. By the time I enter the school, I’m sweating and anxious.
     
    Things only get worse when I pass the line forming from outside that weaves around through the columns of the quad and to the main office. Heads turn in my direction, one by one. Eyes lock on me, filled with hatred, like I’m some foul creature they want to get rid of.
     
    Fuck. This is bad.
     
    The only thing I have going for me is that no one has yet to make a move on me and there’s no way I’m sticking around to find out if they’re going to. I pick up my pace, heading towards where I entered, deciding that leaving is the best decision. However I slow down in the center of the quad when Professor Morgan approaches me. He’s in his mid-forties, with chestnut brown hair and hazel eyes. He’s wearing tan cargo pants and a red polo shirt smeared with charcoal, paint, and clay. He’s also Asher’s uncle, at least, if what Asher told me was the truth.
     
    “Hey Ember,” he says with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “How’s it going today?”
     
    I pretend it’s not weird at all that he’s approaching me. “Good, I guess.”
     
    He smiles, but I can tell it’s forced. Then he discreetly glances around the campus, his attention lingering on the line before he returns his attention to me. “Look, could you meet me in my classroom for a moment? I’d like to discuss a project with you.”
     
    Project? Um, what? I’m about to ask him what he’s talking about when he aims me with an urgent glance. “It’s a project Asher was supposed to turn into me, but I haven’t seen him in a while so I wanted to talk to you about it.”
     
    I slowly catch on. The fact that the entire school seems to be under some sort of trance makes me wary to go anywhere with anyone, yet as I examine him over, attempting to see if his eyes are glowing like the others, he looks normal. As far as I can tell, he doesn’t have