Brothers of Chaos (The Unstoppable Titans Book 1) by Jerry Hart

useless. He couldn’t make heads or tails of the information. He had gone
through the library and couldn’t find one good source about his bizarre dreams:
the green light, the electric hum, and the orb. He had no idea what it all
meant.
    He put the
books back on the shelf and lay down on the soft couch. He stared up at the
high ceiling. This place was enormous; he was so grateful to Alyssa for getting
it for them. She was perversely rich and tremendously generous.
    His thoughts
suddenly drifted back to Chris. He had to tell him the truth about Eric. Chris
was his best friend, and he couldn’t continue to lie to him. Plus, Chris
already had trust issues. Not only did Owen owe him the truth, he owed him his
life. Once, while wandering the streets of downtown, he had nearly walked into
the path of a car. Chris had pulled him out of the way. That was how they met
in the first place.
    *   *   *
    “Whoa,
buddy. You have a death wish?” Chris had asked.
    Owen said
nothing.
    “You look
like you’ve been walking a while,” Chris said. Owen’s clothes had been torn and
dirty, his face sunburned. He had also been very skinny. “When was the last
time you ate, buddy?”
    Owen still
didn’t answer. Chris studied him for a moment, then grinned.
    “You look a
little young to be walking around the city by yourself. You’re not, you know,
homeless, are you?”
    Silence.
Owen just couldn’t bring himself to talk.
    “Hey, if
you’re hungry, I have a friend who works at the coffee shop in the bookstore
down the street who hooks me up every now and then. I’m going to try my luck
today.”
    Chris
started to walk away. Owen slowly started to follow without even realizing it.
It had been midday, and the heat was strong. The cool air in the bookstore had
been very welcomed. Chris had managed to get a couple of free muffins and
cappuccinos for them.
    After
finishing up, they walked through the bookstore. Chris pointed out all of his
favorite books, asking Owen if he’d read any of them. Owen shook his head to
all of them. At fourteen, he hadn’t read much.
    After an
hour, they left and continued walking the streets. Owen just felt completely
aimless; all he could do was follow Chris.
    “I don’t
really have anywhere to go,” Chris said. “I live over there.”
    He pointed
to some unseen place down the street. Owen stared for a while; Chris started
crossing the street. Owen automatically followed. After a while, they’d come to
a red Camaro parked under an overpass just outside the city.
    For hours,
Chris talked about his life and his favorite books. There had been nothing else
to talk about, and it wasn’t like Owen was contributing much.
    A day had
gone by and Owen still hadn’t said anything. He slept in the passenger seat of
Chris’s car. When they woke up, Chris tried again to get Owen to speak.
    “You know,
you don’t have to live like this,” he said. “I have a reason why I’m out here.
If you have family, you should go back to them.”
    That’s when
Owen spoke: “I don’t have any family.”
    Then he
started to cough. His throat had been croaky since he hadn’t spoken in a long
time.
    “You all
right?” Chris asked.
    Owen nodded.
After his coughing fit ceased, Chris asked him what his name was, offering his
own in return.
    “So, Owen,
where did you come from?”
    “Birch.”
    “Where’s
that?”
    “The
country.” Owen suddenly remembered how his friends always referred to where
they lived as “the country.”
    “Wow,” Chris
said, his eyes widening. “How did you get all the way here?”
    “I walked.”
    “No way,”
Chris said. “There’s no way. I don’t believe that. What happened? Did you run
away from home or something?”
    “ Kinda ,” Owen said. “My dad died.”
    “Oh, I’m
sorry, bud.”
    They had
spent the day walking around, exploring the city, which was what Owen had
always wanted to do anyway. They’d done that for a few months, always
discovering something new and