Ominous Order: A Young Adult Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Series (The Separation Trilogy Book 3)

by Felisha Antonette

  Seits heads in first. I shake my head, removing my second gun from the holster, and head in behind her.

  It’s pitch black.

  I can hear the story now, Sean pissed off, telling it to someone: “Marc’s dumbass blindly followed Seits’s even dumber ass into a building they didn’t even check first. They’re dead now, and the one thing I asked him to do was to not die. If he’s not saving my life, he’s letting me down. Stupid bastard.”

  The patter of footsteps passes outside the door, and I begin thinking it may not have been such a bad idea to pop in here, only hoping it stays this way.

  “You all aren’t from around here, huh?” says the voice from the darkness.

  “Obviously,” I reply to the faceless, lighthearted female.

  “Creations aren’t welcomed around here anymore.” She chuckles. “A couple get a free pass, but since the outsiders threatened our country because of the creation of us, they’ve been slowly wiping us out.”

  “Like old vehicles,” a guy’s voice follows.

  “What’s up with the colorful kids?” I ask.

  “There was talk about new Creations some time ago. They’re supposed to be a better version of us, supposedly less violent.”

  “They seemed pretty damn violent to me,” Seits says.

  “Sure. They’re only violent with us, Spotters.” The girl emphasizes. “Spot and kill. To the Normals, though, they’re kind. You may not have witnessed it yet, but those little monsters can withstand anything. They’re mutants. Cut something off, it grows back. Turn them into the undead, they turn back. You shoot them, they rise up and will shoot back. And they’re born in singles. The color helps in some way. We don’t know the scientific term for them yet, but we know they are here to get rid of us. And,” she carries on as footsteps cross the cement. “Once their job is done, they’re done.”

  The same light voice from earlier adds, “Walking time bombs.”

  “The America without Creations?” Seits asks.

  “Yeah.”

  I grow uncomfortable standing in the dark while multiple footsteps shuffle around the ground. “Would any one mind hitting a light?”

  Metal drags against metal, and bright sunlight beams through the darkness, lighting an old two-floor lab stockroom.

  My eyes adjust. “Thanks.”

  “Come up here, take a look,” a girl calls from the upper level. She seems to be the owner of the hand with the pink fingernails. She gestures to the window. “Every eight hours, a helicopter lands over the building of the Guidance. Creations exit and then come here under instruction to monitor the entry and exit to Highrum via the highway. They’ve been told that nothing and no one should pass. Two hours into their shift, those little monsters show up. They stop thirty feet from the Creations and shout, ‘Spotter, Spotter,’ pointing their colored glowing fingers at them. The Creations shoot them down. Pow. Pow. Pow.” She holds an invisible gun and makes a jerking movement as though she is firing off. “The little monsters drop.”

  I climb the stairs to the second story so I can look out the window and spot the children Creations pointing at the Creations blocking the highway. The Creations fire, dropping them, just as she said.

  “Okay. Now, they lie on the ground for exactly eight minutes. Enough time for the Creations to take back their post and wait for the truck to come by and pick up the bodies. Within the first two minutes, the truck arrives but doesn’t release the claw receiver to scoop up the little monsters. Instead, it stalls. Now, the Creations become uneasy, a few remain, surveying the surroundings and others watch the truck.”

  A truck pulls up, and the child Creations still appear dead.

  “See. The Creations turning their head and moving their mouths. Here, they’re discussing their suspicions.” We watch them for a few minutes. “Here comes the good part, don’t look away,” she warns.

  The child Creations climb to their feet and unload on the Creations.

  The girl turns her back to the window, and she slides to the ground. “They bring the Creations here to execute them.”

  I look down at her, clenching my jaw to bite down on the anger. “And you all just watch?” I look back out the window to see a child Creation walk up to a Creation trying to crawl to safety. The child fires off three times, once in the shin, another in the spine, and finally, in the back of her head. The child Creation turns on his heels and marches back to the line. They depart in formation. I make an exasperated sigh, shaking my head. “Knowing this is going to happen, you don’t warn them? Do you know how many Creation lives you could save if you would just say something? You have the timing down! Any Creation approaching this execution can be saved just by your warning.”

  “We’d risk our lives saving theirs,” she says, jabbing a finger against her chest.

  “Damn right you will!” I slam the side of my fist against the concrete wall. “That’s what you were created for.”

  “Jord,” Seits calls into the earpiece.

  The earpiece screeches loudly, and I yank it from my ear.

  “Spotter!” The children yell. I look out the window seeing they are aiming their guns in our direction.

  “Move! Move! Move!” I nudge the girl and Seits away from the window and we leap over the railing to the first level.

  “To the underground passage,” a boy shouts. “They’ve gotta launcher!”

  The girl grabs my wrist and leads me around the stairs to a hole. We jump in, one by one. Back into the darkness, in another tunnel, we try to escape the attack. We’re too slow getting the access closed.

  The building explodes.

  The floor above us comes crumbling down, rock hitting rock with a crack or snap. Slices of light cut through the cracks, and the patter of small footsteps hasten in this direction. We race down the tunnel to avoid being buried in the debris or being caught by the child Creations making their way through the rubble.

  When we left for the Vojin’s base, we were based in Desert Hills. I bet it’s no accident we ended up in Highrum, where everything is going to shit. I should’ve let Ky kill that pink Vojin. We were set up from the start.

  Seits grabs my shoulder as she hurries behind me. We follow the small group through the underground passage. “Do all Creations here live in tunnels now?” I ask.

  “It’s likely to find first and second gen Creations down here,” the girl with the pink nails says.

  “I need to get to the Guidance building. Is there a tunnel that leads me there?”

  The girl chokes on a laugh but manages, “You have a death wish or something?”

  “Nope. I have a friend there who might be in trouble. We’re going after her.”

  Her laugh bounces off the walls. “She must’ve been one of the special ones who got an invite?”

  I lick my lips and think on it. “I guess.”

  Someone from behind us says, “They’re going to use her. She’s not in any danger until majority of the Creations are dead. Take it easy.”

  “Use her for what?” I ask.

  “A few things maybe. Depends on what she is. But they know something about her she may not likely know about herself or else she wouldn’t have fallen for their schemes.”

  We continue down the long tunnel, running behind each other to their safe haven. “Can you give me an idea of what you think they’ll do?”

  “If she’s going to be a consort, she’ll be stripped of her emotions, made braindead, and turned into a breeder. She must possess qualities in a Creation they’re looking for. They’ll take her babies, and train them to be leaders of the Guidance. The only thing they want is the fearlessness of Creations. And if she’s shown a display of affection and charisma, they will use her to attract other Normals and Creations, specifically ones who are this discrete extraterrestrial being, Itteix. There’s been talk about auctioning off Creations to other countries. Like slaves. It’s sick. We are still people. They’re treating us like animals.”

  “If that’s your friend. You
can count her as dead.” The girls voice saddens as she continues, “You’re not getting in there. They likely have her locked away by now, in a glass box, waiting to be experimented on.”

  What the hell is going on here in Highrum? Does the Trade know nothing about this to step in, and if not, how is the Guidance keeping such a plan under their radar? “While I appreciate your assistance, I’m not here for your speculation or advice. I just need directions. Let me worry about everything else.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I jolt forward, gulping for air.

  My sight’s gone, and a buzzing is shaking my ear drums.

  I scramble to my left and cringe from the strike of pain in my right rib cage.

  A gentle hand pats me on my shoulder twice.

  A groan shakes my throat as I return to lying against something hard, far beyond uncomfortable. I wait for the discomfort to pass, breathing through the pain.

  “Hey. Kylie. Just take it easy,” breaks through the fog, and I relax, overcome with the relief that I can hear. The pat on my shoulder returns. “You took a pretty hard hit. It may take a bit for you to recover.”

  “Where,” I rasp. It’s inaudible. I clear my throat. “What’s happening?” I blink. And I blink again until I can make out my surroundings. I jolt forward, ignoring the screaming pain in my side, recognizing the brown hair and broad shoulders of the boy sitting beside me. “Danny!”

  Danny adjusts his position from crouching on his knees to sitting down. “I think you have a broken rib.”

  I nod, trying to find a comfortable sitting position that doesn’t hurt. “What’s going on?” I scan where we sit. One window lets the sunlight into a small room. Dark carpeted floor is beneath us, and the walls and ceiling are a warm gray. “Where am I? How are you here?” I press the heel of my hands against my eyes. Regaining consciousness is daunting. A metallic taste floods my mouth, and my head spins. It feels like needles are being shoved into every inch of my head. “What’s wrong with me?”

  “Pain. Lasting pain maybe,” Danny says. “And I had to, kind of, zap you back. Like the doctors would use a defibrillator.”

  I glance down, looking my chest over. A hole the size of my palm has burned through my shirt. I push my hand over it and see my hand scarred and burned. Then, I recall, “There was an explosion.”

  Danny nods. He sits beside me, knees propped up with his arms resting atop them. “You were down for the count, Ky. I had to resuscitate you.”

  I scan the floor for the device he used to bring me back, but the room is completely empty. “How?”

  Danny rocks back and grinds his teeth. He draws back and forth and says, “Something crazy is going on here in Highrum.”

  “Including you being here and avoiding my questions.” I struggle to climb to my feet, hunching over to my knees and pushing my hands to the floor to bring my feet under me. I rise, and a spell of dizziness knocks me back to the ground. I hit the floor on my side, catching myself on my elbow.

  “You need to take it easy, Kylie,” Danny says peacefully. His entire demeanor—the patience in his round, brown eyes and square shaped jaw—is off-putting.

  I groan, attempting to rise to my feet again. I make it up and hunch over to rest my hands on my knees. “I’m out of it.”

  “You’ve gotta give yourself some time to recharge, Ky. Your body has been through a lot.”

  I gesture for him to keep talking.

  “A lot of us are here. Not many humans, but a lot of Creations. Back at Desert Hills, the base was stormed.”

  “By the Zombies?”

  “No. By Creations.”

  I lift my head and meet his eyes. “What?”

  Danny spreads his hands and shrugs. “It started with the Zombies. The leading Creations stepped up to take them down, and a couple of ’copters hovered over the base, Creations dropping down with guns drawn. They wiped out the toughest Creations and the others, rounded them up like sheep. A lot of them fought. Edward, Megan…oh man. Every member of Luke and Marc’s teams. It was a brawl in the roads until the Creations that dropped from the ’copters shot them down. They lined the remaining seventy of us up, and we boarded buses that took us to planes. We landed here, and what a shit storm this place has turned out to be. Some Creations made it out before all this happened. They were needed for Citizen Management, I think. So not everyone is gone, but the majority are.”

  “How are you here?” I straighten my spine, grunting against my broken rib. I hold my side and try not to complain. “They wouldn’t have taken their eyes off you.”

  Danny tilts his head a bit to the left and hitches a brow. “They didn’t. Trade Officer Grandin was waiting at the place of our arrival. I assume it might’ve been the Guidance building. He excused me, and I left him. He briefed me and gave strict instructions to find you.”

  “Why? What’s he want with me?”

  “This is going to sound weird, but you’re not just a Creation. You’re part Itteix. It’s a species not of this world.” Unfazed, I meet Danny’s gaze, and his eyes widen. “You knew?”

  I pace the floor to stretch my limbs and get myself used to the aching in my right side. The room is eight steps from one wall to the other and each step hurts. “I just found out.”

  Danny stands and shoves his fists to his hips. “Well that makes this a lot easier.”

  “There was a letter I think Seits or Harold left for Luke and me to find. It explained my parents were Itteix. But that’s as far as I know.”

  “It was right. For many of us, our parents were the last of our race. We were riding the tail of a comet passing Earth and spotted the Vojin scum attacking the planet. We did everything we could to save this planet but were unsuccessful. They blew up the comet, and those of us remaining fell to Earth.” Danny walks to the window and squats to hide as he peers out of it. “The Vojin changed the narrative. Said the ‘invaders’ were the enemy, and they were trying to save this planet, but it’s always been a lie. They wanted Earth. They killed thousands of us, destroyed this planet and tricked everyone,” he hisses, slamming his fist against the wall. “The Vojin wanted to colonize this world, and that’s what they did. They work slowly. First phase: gain the trust of your enemies. Second phase: persuade them to eliminate their defense so they can easily move in. And third phase is the takeover. We’re in phase two.”

  I meet him by the window and squat down as he does. We look out to open land; the lowering sun glares its bright light upon a green pasture. Wind sweeps over the tall grass, causing it to flow like the sea. “Then the Vojin are the cause of this? They were never the saviors?”

  Danny nods. “Parents like ours, in their true form, they’re made up of light. Frame like ours, but of light. They disguised themselves as humans to blend in, and it worked for a while. Then the Premier began the design of Creations. Many members of the Trade are of the fallen Itteix. They’ve had to witness the Vojin make their way deep into the America as they fooled the Guidance. So they sent the many of their own kind to investigate this.”

  “How does it all explain me?” I ask. I realize he keeps saying we, so I replace my me with, “…Us?”

  “They had children. Watch this.”

  Danny backs far away from the window going deep into the room. Facing me, he stands with his arms spread out at his sides. From within him, light seems to resonate from his chest and his body. His clothes begin fading out, and he’s replaced by a human body made up of light.

  I throw my hand up to guard my eyes against the brightness and reach for my holster. I pat the right side of my waist, searching for my gun. It’s not there. The beam of light dims a bit, protecting me from its blinding affect. The hairs on every inch of my body stand on end, but it’s not fear. I lift my right arm before my eyes, seeing tiny bolts of electricity bounce between the hairs. “What’s going on?”

  “This is what we are.” Danny’s voice is an echo, and I don’t see his mouth move. His frame dims and brightens as he speaks. “Where our
parents needed to put in a lot of effort to hold their disguise, it’s the opposite for us. We need our energy to undertake our identity as Itteix. It comes from our heart.” At the mention of the organ, my gaze drops from his head to the left side of his chest, where I can visibly see his heart pumping what seems like lightning through his body.

  “You’re saying I look like this?” I point to my chest.

  He nods and fades back into Danny. “There aren’t many of us. But those of us remaining do what we can to survive here.”

  “How? How do I do it?”

  Danny chuckles, head hanging as he rustles his hair. “It sounds silly. But you charge your heart with energy. Think about the things you’re most passionate about; get your blood racing. I assume you’ve never attempted to activate your inner being.” He points to his heart. “The little jolt I gave you earlier, though, may help with the activation. Concentrate. Just come away from the window. We don’t want anyone to see you.”

  I cross the room and close my eyes, letting my mind run free. The first thing to come to mind is finding the nearest pistol, ensuring it has those specially made bullets, and emptying a clip into the Vojin. But I don’t react to this thrill. The second thought I have is getting Luke back. I miss him a lot. I miss his voice pumping me on and encouraging me to kill these sons of bitches. I miss him at my side, just being here with me.

  “You almost got it, Kylie.” Danny says. “You’re flickering. Itteix, we fuel off the emotions we feel. The more positive the emotion, the better. Things like curiosity, contentment, joy, interest, even affection. For a Creation, I suspect this might be a little difficult. But you know what these are. Your experience with them should help.”

  Instantly my mind shifts to the only person I’ve experienced every positive emotion with. “Marcain,” I say aloud.

  A thud sounds as something heavy slams to the floor, shaking the room.

  I open my eyes to the room washed in white and blue. Danny’s scrambling to his feet, arm thrown over his eyes.