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

by Felisha Antonette

  “Yeah. Can you hear me?”

  I throw my fists in the air before cupping my hands at the back of my head.

  “I found you first.”

  I huff a laugh, shaking my head. “Yeah. You did.” The static has lessened greatly, but the noise in her background is overpowering. “It’s a war out there, Ky. They’re killing Creations. I—we—thought they had you.”

  “The general told me. You and Seits make it back as fast as you can. Gather as many willing-to-fight Creations as you can find. We’re going to war against the Guidance.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  *Marc*

  I look over the nine Creations, circled around me, eagerly waiting for me to continue. I gesture around us, at their hole. “We aren’t supposed to live like this. You were created for the taking, not,” I emphasize with an aggressive point toward the ground, “to be hunted down as savages or hide away like Waulers. I understand you all think you weren’t made for the fight, that you all may believe you’re not strong enough, but you were created just like us.” I gesture to Seits and myself. “So I ask each of you to leave this indecent refuge and fight with us.”

  All nine of them shake their heads. A tall woman, with her hands on her hips and her head hung, takes two steps forward. Short ginger hair hides her face. She says, “You’re asking us to fight against the Guidance’s army.”

  “Damn right, I am,” I say, nodding. “And don’t let their numbers intimidate you. We don’t need numbers to match them; we need courage.”

  The nine Creations, except for Ellie and the woman who stepped forward, disperse, going back to their pallets on the ground. I rub my hand over my chin as I consider a different approach.

  “They guide and guard,” the woman with the ginger hair says as she steps to me with her hand extended. “War isn’t their thing. Hi. I’m Elizabeth.”

  We shake. “I see. What’s the best way to get through to them? If we’re going to make it through this, we’re going to have to do it together.”

  Elizabeth grabs her shoulders, hugging herself as she looks up at the rock. “We want to be needed again. And I think you telling them we have to do it together, is exactly what you need to say. Especially coming from you two.” She flicks her gaze to Seits at my other side.

  Nodding, I say, “Thanks.” I sit on the ground and clear my throat to grab their attention. With a gentler tone, I say, “I understand your reluctance. But frankly, we can’t do this with you. You all have seen what’s out there. You’ve studied their techniques and know the way around Highrum, from above and beneath. Help us, so we can help you.”

  “How can you help us?” someone lingering in the shadows says.

  “The Guidance wants us dead, right?”

  A few sitting nearest me nod. “Yes,” Ellie says.

  “Then it’s simple. We kill them first. They created us just for missions such as this. I’m not asking you all to do the dirty work. I’m asking for you to go to war with us against those babies and the Creations who fight back. Yes, it will be hard. And we may lose a few. But a life lost today is one saved tomorrow. Without Creations, this world is going to shit. Aliens are going to try to take over our planet. And,” I stand up, “I don’t know about you all, but I’m not going to allow that to happen. This,” I point toward the ground, “is our land. Help me make sure it stays that way. Please.”

  They each swap glances with the person beside them. Slowly, one by one, as though the gesture were contagious, they begin to nod. “Let’s do it,” Ellie cheers, throwing her fists in the air.

  I look to Elizabeth. “Thank you,” I say.

  She nods and moves to a spot in the corner to gather her things.

  Seits and I wait near the entry to the tunnel as everyone loads up. They’re ready in less than five minutes, lining up behind us. Fear lines their trembling brows, and many chew on their bottom lips, but they stand tall and that’s good enough for me.

  Ellie leads us out. We take two right turns and enter a sewer line. There’s light at the end of the tunnel, but it’s from a sewer drain none of us are small enough to fit through. We come upon a ladder drilled to the side of the wall. Above it, a manhole cover, which will likely lead to the middle of the street, either right in the middle of a Zombie herd, or in front of the child Creations. Ellie begins to climb, and I grab her hips to stop her. “Let me go first.”

  She nods and comes down so I can take her spot. I ascend the ladder, making it to the rusty cover. I give it a push with my hand, and it doesn’t budge.

  Shit.

  I want this to be quiet, but it doesn’t look like that will happen. I ram my forearms against the cover, working the rusty metal loose blow by blow. After the fourth hit, my arm is bruised but the cover is loose enough for me to push up and away from our exit.

  Sunlight bursts through the hole along with the barrels of four shotguns. Blinded by the light, I’m unable to see who’s caught us.

  “Wait,” a boy says. “Marcain?”

  I squint my eyes and proceed to climb the ladder. Someone grabs my shoulder to help me, and when I’m above ground on my feet and my eyes have adjusted to the sun, I look over the familiar faces. I throw my hand out to shake Marshal’s.

  “We thought you were dead, brother.” He turns around and sees General Seits coming up next. He goes to greet her.

  I greet Zeke, Jace, and a few others I recognize from Desert Hills but don’t know by name. Gia bumps my fist. Her narrowed eyes and crooked smile hint at her curiosity about Sean. “He’s going to be very happy to see you,” I say to her. She smiles wider and nods. I look over their group. “What are you all doing here?”

  Gia holds her rifle close to her chest, saying, “We’re here for Citizen Management, keeping everyone from leaving via the roadways. What are you all doing here? They said you died on a mission that involved the outsiders. We had a memorial.”

  I turn down the corners of my mouth. The Guidance is convincing the Creations to come for Citizen Management. That’s how they are getting them here: under strict orders.

  Ellie and the other Creations have joined us above ground on an empty street with a row of connected two-story homes on each side. They have pointy roofs, and each home’s door is brown. Five concrete steps lead up to the doors, and two triangular bushes are beside each staircase.

  An eerie feeling crawls over my flesh as I look the houses over, as though someone is in each of them watching us. It forces me to keep moving. I head east, in the direction of the rising sun, waving for everyone to follow. As we hurry, I say, “You all likely won’t believe me, but you can’t follow the rules on this one.”

  “Why?” Marshal asks, jogging beside me, vest and rifle bouncing with every step.

  “They are killing Creations,” Ellie shouts from the back, and I regret not telling her to let me do the talking.

  The crowd halts, each of them facing Ellie and the other underground Creations, guns drawn. “Excuse me,” Marshal asks.

  I step in front of the underground Creations, arms out at my sides. “She’s not lying.”

  Seits blocks the others to my right where I can’t reach. “They tried to kill us on more than one occasion.” Her face stays even, but her tone goes solemn, “It’s more bad news to say the least.”

  The guns lower. Marshal asks, “Where’s General Jord?”

  “We’re on our way to him, Sean’s there too. We lost Luke, Collins, and Cecilia in battle.”

  Marshal nods. “And Kylie…”

  I throw a directive hand out in front of us, though I don’t know if we are headed in the right direction. “She’s waiting for us too.”

  Unconvinced, Marshal narrows his eyes. “Prove to us what you said about them killing Creations. Then we’ll decide to believe you or not.”

  I lower my arms, and though I hate to waste the time, we’ll need them on our side too.

  Right behind me, Elizabeth makes a move, and the guns raise again, this time loading. “No swift mo
vements, Ginger,” Gia says, glaring at Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth steps back, hands raised. Her voice trembles as she says, “I just wanted to say, showing them would be a good opportunity.” As she lowers her shaking hands, her brows raise with a hint of excitement. “If they have an event capture device, we can record them wiping out Creations and broadcast it over every screen in Highrum. Everyone will see what the Guidance is up to. It may not change the minds of the child Creations, but all the others, seeing us get wiped out may have an effect on them. Maybe they’ll help too.” She eagerly nods, a glimmer of hope in her eyes that they’ll agree to her plan and lower their weapons.

  I nod, stepping in front of Elizabeth. “This is a good idea.” Their guns lower. And to Marshal I say, “We can record the massacre and show everyone. You’ll see it for yourself. They will lead us. Do you have a recorder on you?”

  “We do.”

  “Well make sure it’s on. Everyone’s going to need to see this.”

  The massacre is worse the second time around. These Creations living in the shadows have witnessed it time and time again. They’ve sat around and done nothing to stop this indecency. We’re designed to protect our fellow Creation. If one of them is shot and falls to the ground, we go back for them, throw them over our shoulders, and carry them to safety. If our fellow Creation is in danger, we must go out of our way to see to it that they are warned and protected. If there is a matter where our existence is in danger, we are required, under any means necessary, to maintain our existence in order to protect the citizens of the America and the America itself. Should anything jeopardize this, we have the permission of this government to terminate it.

  The question, likely holding everyone back, is what if the something jeopardizing our existence and this country is what gave the permission.

  On the first floor of a building across from the one they think they blew us up in, Seits and I stand behind everyone as they peer out of a window sitting high on a wall. It stretches ten feet in width, and most have risen on their tiptoes to look out of it. This building is also a warehouse. Sheets of glass and steel are stacked against the wall, and a ten-foot tall machine is in the middle of the floor. We entered through another sewer line right next to it. I suspect the machine is what they use to make the glass and steel.

  The gasps settle, and the chatter erupts. Marshal slowly turns to face me, head bowed. He holds his rifle by the barrel so it hangs near the floor. Marshal lifts his gaze and looks me in the eye. “Whatever it is. We’re in.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Carla must’ve known we wouldn’t stand for the Guidance killing off Creations. She gave her life for my freedom. The only way I can repay her is by saving the lives of the remaining Creations.

  I sit on the curb, near a set of stairs that leads to a sewer that doubles as the entrance to the Creations’ bunker. I look to the east. The sun is beaming down on the better half of Highrum as if hope rests in my future. But over my head, the cloud of smoke circles like a yielding storm. It seems as though the fire from the crash might’ve escalated, taking over parts of the city. But the streets are empty. No Zombies like the mass I encountered. It’s impressive how they move along, maybe searching the ground for people to infect. Soon, I suspect the streets will be crowded with more of their kind and more X-Gen Zombies. Going against the Guidance gives us three enemies: Vojin, Zombies, and Creations.

  My body is buzzing. The hairs on my arms stand on end, and like Danny mentioned, there’s a soft glow to my embellishments. Not wearing pants or sleeves makes it very visible, but I’ve yet to come across a spare change of clothes. No one has mentioned it. Maybe I am the only one who sees it because I know it’s there.

  I’m humming with energy; my legs shake with unprecedented adrenaline, and I feel like I can physically take down a tank. I’m needed here, for the Creations and the humans, but I’d give up this phenomenal feeling to have a conversation with Luke. To tell him our parents were freaking aliens, a cool species of aliens that lights up brighter than anything I’ve ever seen. That we’re driven by our emotions, and maybe this is how we are driven to be our best, why he was compelled to kill the girl he loved, why it was so hard for me to say no to my emotions for Marc. It’s all because we were meant to feel, and our emotions were to help us thrive not hold us back.

  It’s a relief in a sense. On the other hand, I still feel like I need to hide who I am, and that’s suffocating. I’ll still need to hide being an alien’s descendent, so maybe it’s the same thing. Maybe nothing has changed for me.

  A screech bleeds through the city.

  I throw my hands over my ears until the sound stops and is replaced by a kind feminine robotic voice saying, “This is not a test. Repeat. This is not a test. All citizens in Highrum must remain in order. Highrum is under att—” The instruction is cut short, overridden by a brief moment of static.

  I rise to my feet and step out into the streets, looking one way and then the other. It’s barren, nothing but the shadow from the smoke cloud hanging over this side of the city.

  “Attention, city of Highrum Creations and those Creations visiting.” The girls voice booms through the city speakers clear and calm. “Please turn your attention to the nearest broadcast.”

  I run down the street to find the nearest billboard in view of where I stand. On the screen, Creations are being shot down by children. Once all the Creations are down, the children, in one fluid motion, turn on their heels and march down a street to their right. They’re dressed in black suits, vests packed with ammunition, two guns strapped to either sides of their hips along with rifles slung over their shoulders. They march out of shot, and the camera turns to a girl.

  The girl is a Creation. The light shining on her from behind the camera reflects off the embellishments dressing her neck. Her eyes are black. The color our eyes were when we were born, until they injected us with those serums the scientists swore would protect us from the virus of the Zombies. Now, I know those were lies. I don’t know yet what those serums did besides identify who may or may not have been mixed Creations, maybe even rebel Vojin hosts.

  The girl blinks and then nods. Her brows are pinched so tightly her skin folds between them, a clear indication she wants to convey worry or anger. She says, “Those were Creations ordered here under the notion they were here for protection of our city. Unbeknownst to them, they were truly sent here for their assassination.” The muscles in her face relax, and she takes on a contemptuous expression. Her eyes darken, and her lips press into a thin line. Her gaze flicks down, and someone mutters something that isn’t clear. When she looks back at the camera, her eyes have narrowed, and her face burns red with anger. “The Guidance have slain countless numbers of Creations, and you are next. We must stop them. We have rights too. And one of them is having the right to not stand aside and watch—”

  The broadcast is shut off. The billboard goes black.

  There’s a rumble in the distance from the north and the south. A display like that should call many Creations to action. And if that broadcast went wider than Highrum, if there are any Creations in the America left, they may also rise up. I assume that’s what would follow her revealing the Guidance issuance of Creations’ murder. Let’s fight back!

  A rapid patter of footsteps comes from the east. I stay in view, never being a Creation or alien to hide from the enemy. I face the direction the patter is coming from and ball my hands in fists so tight my nails scrape against my palm.

  A mob of black-suited Creations jogs down the streets, Marc and Seits in front.

  A pressure builds in my chest, relief, joy, solace, maybe panic. Whatever it is, it jolts me into a run, and I race down the streets, boots an inch too big, flopping off my heels, vest scraping against my back and stomach. This feeling, as I never look away from Marc, forces me to run faster. My hair slaps my neck and shoulders like a whip. I clear the ground in what seems like a blink, and I slam into him, throwing my arms around his neck as he curls
his around me.

  My chest is pounding. I bury my face in his neck and close my eyes, breathing so heavily I can’t slow it down.

  Marc squeezes me tighter, arms pushing further across my back as he cuffs my sides. I cringe against the pain in my side, because pulling away at the end of forever would be too soon, though I know I have to let him go eventually.

  “I thought I lost you too,” I say.

  Marc sighs. His breath thrashes against my collar bone, and he draws me even closer, eliminating every ounce of space between us. He doesn’t say anything, and his silence is so loud. I allow myself to drown in it. If he doesn’t care about the thoughts and judgement from those around us, I sure as hell don’t care. I realize it was me who separated us, but anyone or anything who tries to lay a finger on him or myself, or even Sean, will have to go through me. And I sure as hell am not going down easily.

  My emotions, I won’t hide them anymore. The care I feel for this boy I hold in my arms, I won’t allow anyone to mistake it for anything less than what it is. If they want to kill me for that, I dare everyone to try.

  Marc draws back a half-arm’s length. He grabs my neck and looks me in my eyes. A smile takes over his face, one greater than he’s ever revealed. “It’s taking everything in me not to kiss you right now.”

  I match his beam and push my hands through his hair and rest them at the back of his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “Shut up, Ky.” He tugs me close and his kiss builds a familiar pressure in my chest. The same feeling I had the night we went all the way.

  Gasps erupt around us.

  I yank back, checking myself to see if I’m glowing. Seeing I’m fine, I close my eyes and sigh. Though I’ve broken out of our hug, I keep one arm wrapped around him as he does around me.

  Marc whispers in my ear, “They kill Creations who show affection.”