The Wet Divide ✔️ [TSS#2][BXB]

Prologue

372 days later

Keylin's PoV

I sat on the roof of the pristine chapel, the sun beating down on my exposed arms. I was wearing a white shirt with the sleeves cut off and a low dip at the front of my chest, my brown leather criss-cross over it with two small blades tucked nicely with it followed by my trusty dagger that Malakei gave me over a year ago.

A year ago. 372 days to be precise. I had been counting ever since I left the camp.

I was in Marbeya, the capital of the desert country. The language of Arabic. Where countries were separated by wealth and power into small sectors when the humans before were still alive. Now the names, Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Palestine? They mean nothing now. It is all Marbeya.

I fiddled with the knife in my shoe before casting my gaze amongst the nicely dressed people. They were all the same, tannned skin, dark eyes and dark hair. There was no flaw anywhere except for me.

'The man you are looking for is Aja Gamney. He has a meeting with the French embassy at high noon in the prestine chapel. Wearing white with black sunglasses, you have seven minutes.'

I remembered Luis' words ringing clear in my head as I looked on at the small carriages being led by animals. It was busy and the population was too big for this section of the Dry Lands.

My eyes trained in on a rather large man in a white suit, not caring about the scorching sun. The gold chain around his neck illuminating and catching my eye, that was how I had found him. His black sunglasses visible.

I smirked as I stood up, wrapping the white scarf around my head to cover my golden hair and part of my mouth as I make my way to the side of the roof, my hand holding a part of the tiles as I swing down onto a balcony. The balcony that the meeting was going to be held through computer.

The Arabs were the only ones who still had access to a functioning computer. Luis said it was the ruination of the humans and a sign that their life came to an end all too quickly. We were better off without it.

I went over to the door, knowing that there was two Arab guards behind it and waited in silence for the man that I have been searching for ever since I left my fathers camp. I would finally get the location of the teller. I was closer than ever.

I held out my blade as the door jiggled on its lock before it opened with a creek before shutting softly. The man just got a chance to take off his sunglasses before I held the blade up to his neck, making him freeze and turn to me.

'Who are you?'

He asked me frantically in Arabic and I responded in digging the blade deeper into his throat, causing a small trickle of blood to flow down his neck. He didn't say anything more. I nodded towards the window where his seat and desk were, a large computer occupying the desk.

The man makes his way over in fear before sitting down with a frown. I begin to take my headscarf off, revealing my blonde hair. The man looks at me in awe but my gaze is hard as I walk forward.

"You have information that I need." I say gruffly, my voice having dropped in the last year resulting in me sounding older, I was taller too. I had grown a few notches, almost six foot. A trait only Dry Landers have. They are known for being tall.

"I don't know what you are talking about, I don't know you." The man replies in perfect English. An accent clear but he's lying.

I place both of my hands on his desk as I move my face closer to the man, he takes a visible gulp and I only stare him down, face hard.