Irreverent: Young Adult Dystopian Romance (The Relevance Series Book 2)

by Sarah Addison-Fox

  I try not to take any notice as Trey makes even more lewd remarks about Gina, but when he directs his attention to me, it’s with a knowing smirk I can’t ignore. I’m out of my chair and hauling him up by his shirt. He starts to protest he wasn’t doing anything wrong, but a low hum starts to build in my ears.

  “You’re worse than the G,” I spit at him.

  His face is splotched red and he struggles against me but I’m not letting him go. I ready myself to hit him when his face twists into a half-snarl. “Go on then. Hit me. That’s what you’re all about, isn’t it?” My entire body is shaking and I’m two seconds away from punching him when he manages to wriggle loose and shove into my chest. It’s not enough for me to lose my grip on him, but it is enough for him to pull out the knife he keeps strapped at his waist. Cold steel bites into my neck. I freeze, still holding his shirt front in my fists. He chokes an angry laugh. “I know all about you. You’re nothing more than a reject science experiment. No wonder you don’t pair up with anyone, you probably can’t.”

  I shouldn’t be surprised. I’m not, really, but it still stings the way it always does when I’m reminded there are recordings of me. I shove him, he stumbles backwards, and knocks into the desk, making the monitor rattle. He glares at me but doesn’t say another word as I sit back at the desk and try to calm down.

  My jaw is still working so hard it aches when a sun-kissed Mallory strolls in, beaming and wearing a wide-brimmed hat. I force a smile at her, but when hers turns downwards I know I’ll have to work harder to fool her into thinking I’m okay. I glance over her shoulder and keep an eye on Trey and Kit as they interact. He’s sheepish, trying to act casual when Kit swings herself up on a desk and points at the screen, now showing specs of the four-wheel drive he and Kit stole from me.

  When she asks him what he’s been doing, my lips twitch into a smile. His voice is filled with as much tension as a guilty man hiding from a woman always does. I smile because I know I just found something I can use to blackmail him with. All I need to do is tell him I’ve told Mallory what he does in here, and that she’ll spill the beans. Now that Kit and Trey have so obviously paired up, that should hopefully be enough to keep him in line.

  Mallory.

  I want to take Cristan back to the garden where Kit showed me an old shed filled with tools. There’s a shovel like the one Cristan used to bury our clothes, and I’m curious to see what it will feel like to manipulate the earth, to plant a seed, to tend to it the way Kit says she does, to nurture it and watch it grow.

  I want to tell him all about my plans to grow as solid as the trees that yield fruit, I want to say I know I can get stronger, if I too plant myself in the garden with Kit and learn how, but Cristan’s eyes are flicking back and forth between me, the monitor, and Trey and Kit, so I take a seat and hope he’ll let me know what’s going on.

  I pick up my pencil and start drawing some of the trees and plants I saw in the garden. Cristan goes back to tapping at the monitor and I lose myself in what I’m doing. His tapping has a rhythm that matches the sound of scrawling on my paper. I’m drawing the curve of the leaves when Cristan lets out a curse. I drop my pencil and peer at the screen. Cristan has it set so he can watch the entrance of the Unit. Men are streaming through the doors and look to be carrying large cylindrical weapons.

  Horror floods my veins as Trey and Kit stand behind Cristan. Any confusion I had at what is happening fades away as I see Trey’s lips mouth a curse and Kit’s eyes widen before she speaks almost in a monotone. “Jackson will want to put his plan into effect. He’ll be pissed he’s still laid up.” Her eyes slide to Cristan and narrow but Cristan is too focussed on what’s happening on the screen to pay her any attention.

  Men dressed in government issue uniforms like the one my driver wore on the day I was made Irrelevant are flowing like a wave through the Unit. Cristan shifts the view with a muttered curse and I see the recreation centre filling with uniformed men. People are being pulled out of chairs, off couches, and thrown to the ground. My stomach roils as a man is thrown up against a wall.

  Everything starts to blur, the curses and mutterings of Cristan fade away as lights dart in front of my eyes. For a moment I think I’ll faint, but instead, I just sway and rock in place. Cristan’s steps are methodical as he moves away from the screen, away from Trey and Kit, and closer to me.

  We stare at each for a moment as if silently acknowledging things have changed. He swallows and moisture fills his eyes. And I know. I know what it is that he doesn’t want to say. I take a step towards him and take his hand in mine. He’s trembling and I know he’s afraid. For that reason alone, I hide away how terrified I am. For that reason, and for all the others that make up why I love him, I promise myself that this won’t be the last time we see each other.

  Pain creeps over my body I know isn’t physical. I’d rather feel every part of my body burned by the sun than watch the torment on his battered face. He pulls me closer and places the gun in my hand. His fingers curl over mine, just like they did the first time he showed me how to fire it.

  His voice is a raw croak. “I’m sorry. I have to go. If Trey gives you any trouble, tell him you know what he does down here."

  I shake my head in confusion. He’s trying to tell me something important, but I can’t process the meaning. I know if I speak, I’ll give myself away. There is nothing to be said. Nothing that can undo what is already in motion. I push up on my toes and kiss him. I taste the salt from his sweat, but I tug him towards me, kissing him with desperation and need I didn’t know I possessed.

  His arms tighten around me and his kiss is as passionate as mine as if he’s trying to communicate how he feels without words. He pulls away so he can cup my chin and I have to dig my fingernails into my palms to stop the tears from escaping.

  “I’ll find a way back to you,” he says.

  Every fibre of my being wants me to beg him to stay, but I can’t do that to him. I won’t make him choose between me and his brother. Even if it means saying goodbye to him.

  Kit’s eyes flick to mine and I think I find kindness and understanding in her gaze. I should find comfort in that and the gun I hold in my hand, but I don’t. I lift my shaking hand and stare at the weapon that tore open Jackson’s chest and wonder if I could do that to another person.

  One look at Cristan’s bruised face as he walks past me with Trey, and the way my stomach knots painfully tells me the answer.

  For him. I will do whatever it takes.

  Even if it means embracing what I hide from the most.

  My Irrelevance.

  Cristan.

  I learned a long time ago how to lock my fear away. And I do it now. To leave Mallory, to save Jed, it’s the only way I can without falling into a thousand pieces.

  Jackson is thumbing through a book and tapping away at a tablet when Trey and I blaze into his room. He drops the book and grips the tablet so hard his fingertips lose colour. “They stormed the Unit? Trying to force you to come out of hiding?”

  I manage a grunt while Trey starts to pace the room, looking like a caged animal. “We can’t do anything until it’s dark.”

  I frown at him, but before I can ask why not, Jackson is struggling to sit. “He’s right. You’ll have to wing it. Get back to the Unit, Trey can wait until we’re ready to move.”

  I snort a bitter laugh. He can’t even stand, I highly doubt he can coordinate some kind of attack. “Even if I get back inside, then what? I try to break out again? There are hundreds of G men inside. If I get back in, I won’t be getting out any time soon. And what if they want Mallory back too? There’s no telling what they want until we communicate with the G.” Trey stops pacing and Jackson merely stares at me. All the air leaves my lungs in a rush as I wait for what is going to be more bad news.

  Jackson flinches as he manages to sit upright. “I sent them a message an hour ago. Told them you’d be coming soon.”

  Fire rushes through me as I try to make sure my voice
doesn’t give me away. “What?”

  Jackson only raises an eyebrow, infuriating me further. “You’ve been snooping, you know we can house your Unit here. We need to make a statement, we need to show the G we won’t be contained anymore.”

  I’m so dumbstruck by his actions, and the fact he’s once again placed someone I love in danger in order to get what he wants, I can’t even look at him. The room is still. Jackson and Trey seem to be holding their breaths waiting to see what I’ll do. My rage is still simmering as I glare at Jackson. “You risked my brother’s life.”

  Jackson says nothing. Trey is quiet. The only sound verifying this isn’t all a nightmare is the sound of my thrashing heartbeat. My head starts to swim. My breathing becomes shallow. I’m trapped. I can’t stay, and if I go, I don’t know what will happen to me, to Jed, and I won’t know what’s happening to Mallory.

  Either way, I can’t protect them both.

  “I won’t forget what you’ve done here,” I half-promise half-warn Jackson.

  If he feels guilt, I see no sign of it when he sets his face hard. “This is war, sacrifices need to be made.” Something flickers over his face. Whoever he is, whatever he’s been through, Jackson Stone is much more than the criminal Irrelevant the G has told us he is, but even the fact that he hates the G as much as I do will never be enough reason for me to trust him.

  “Fine. But whatever happens to me, you take my brother, you take Drew and Jackie, and get them back here to Mallory.” Jackson nods slowly enough for me to hope he’s sincere. He extends his arm in an old-fashioned gesture that makes my chest tug tight. I hesitate, but Drew’s training prevents me from not shaking Jackson’s hand. I squeeze hard and lock eyes with him. “You know what I’m capable of under the right circumstances. Don’t make me regret this.”

  Jackson flinches, but his lips flicker into a smile. “Use the shortwaves to communicate. Report back every detail, no matter how insignificant. If there are men on the buildings around the Unit, I need to know. We only have eyes inside the Unit and the entrance hallway.”

  I yank my hand away and grit my teeth. “How many men do you have out here?”

  Jackson’s lips press tightly together and he eases away, looking exhausted and pale. “Enough. But we can’t move until nightfall. So, make sure you stay inside the Unit until then. If they take you out and try to get you back to the New City before then, you’re on your own.”

  Doubt curls like toxic fumes inside me. The city is the last place I want to be at. “Why can’t you move until nightfall?”

  He shakes his head. “We don’t have time. Trey can answer what you need to know.” He slumps backwards as though all his energy has been consumed.

  “Will you even be able to coordinate this?” I ask.

  Jackson nods and his voice stays strong, though he’s now resting against the pillows. “Don’t you worry about me. I’ve been planning this for six months. One message and everyone will be in place when you need them to be.”

  Trey steps forward and taps the knife he held at my throat only minutes ago. “We need to move now. I’ll grab what we need.”

  I hold Jackson’s steely-eyed gaze for a few seconds. If he comes through, it’ll be a miracle. I want to run back and tell Mallory to shoot Trey or anyone else if they so much as look at her wrong, but I can’t. All my energy, all my resolve is going into holding myself together and not letting the fear and anger tear me apart.

  I tense my muscles and turn on my heel as I go over the plan again. It seems simple and maybe if I weren’t such a jaded cynic who’s spent eighteen years seeing human beings at pretty much their worst, I’d see it differently, but I don’t trust Jackson. I don’t trust Trey. And a blonde Irrelevant girl who hums and rocks, who I’m supposed to be protecting, is at the mercy of whoever else Jackson has hiding out here.

  I send Trey a glance as we enter the common area. “How many others are out here?”

  Trey grabs a bag and throws it over his shoulder. He’s cagey, which makes my skin rise. “See, now here’s the thing you didn’t get to talk about with Jackson. The others, they are kind of….” His face twists into a half-smile. “Ghosts.”

  I gape at him. There are almost three hundred people locked inside Unit 2B, not to mention seven other Units in my quadrant that are all locked up tight with no food or medicine getting in or out, my brother is now in danger, and he’s talking about ghosts? I shake my head at him and resist the urge to punch the smirk off his face. It’s Jackson’s fault. All of it. And if I think too much about that, about how he sacrificed Mallory just so he could draw me out, I’ll lose my rag and then no one will be better off.

  I grind my back teeth together and let out a growl. “But Mallory is safe here?”

  A flickering of amusement appears making my dislike grow even more. I know I can take him, I’ve done it before and it would give me great pleasure to do it again, but he nods. “The ghosts aren’t a threat.” He jabs his chest like he’s trying to goad me. “Me on the other hand, I’m the biggest threat out here for a good-looking girl like Mallory.”

  My fists curl at my sides and I take an involuntary step towards him. “You stay the hell away from her. She knows all about your little basement adventures. One foot wrong, she tells Kit, and she shoots you.”

  He blinks, then spits on the ground beside him like it’s not a bother. “Whatever you say.”

  I stare hard at him and he doesn’t back down. Heat creeps down my neck and mingles with the sweat trickling down my spine. Part of me wants to run towards Jed, and part of me wants to run back to Mallory. Neither will serve any purpose. I have to go back whether I want to or not. I can’t think about Mallory. I can’t think about what Jed’s going through. I have to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and getting back to the Unit.

  My nerves are raw by the time we load up bags with ammo, with shortwave radios, and water for me. Trey’s expression doesn’t change until we get back out in the open past the wall where the four-wheel drive is waiting.

  A flickering of emotion crosses his face. “I’m coming with you as far as the graveyard. You’ll need to get as close as you can to the Unit before ditching the short wave. Anyone finds that or sees you using it, they’ll know you’re communicating with us.”

  My stomach tightens. I’ve been so wrapped up in getting out of here, I never stopped to think that if Trey gets caught close to the Unit they may arrest him, or take him too. There’s a fine line between a suicide mission and an educated risk. I’m still not completely clued in on the numbers Jackson has, and Trey’s cryptic answer isn’t doing anything to allay my already jagged nerves. I still doubt his motives, and I still don’t know for sure he’s even going to stay around long enough for me to relay if the Unit is surrounded, so I say nothing as I step around him so I can drive for what will likely be the last time.

  I slide into the four-wheel drive and run my hands over the steering wheel. The faint scent of solvents and oil makes my stomach tighten. Drew spent hundreds of hours working on this and I doubt he’ll get to see it again, let alone finish it. I buckle my seat belt the second I’m behind the wheel and press the ignition switch.

  Trey shoves the pack at his feet and has the audacity to grin at me. “So, you and Mallory aren’t bumping uglies?”

  I glare at him and rev the engine, mimicking his voice. “So, Kit must have been pretty drunk to pair up with you?”

  His face falls, and I feel a measure of satisfaction at the confusion lacing his normally smug features. “How’d you… You’ve been spying on me? On us?”

  I release the hand brake and shift into first as I send him one of my own smug looks. “Sucks to have your privacy invaded, doesn’t it?”

  His eyebrows rise and he runs a hand over his spiky hair, but I think I see a smirk trying to take control of his face, so I spin the wheel so we’re back on the road that got us here from no man’s land. He’s not buckled up, so he topples and nearly falls out of the cavity where
the door should be. I hear him curse at me, then surreptitiously buckle himself in as we speed away.

  At the pace I’m setting there’s little chance to talk things through, so I make sure my energy isn’t expended on pointless chatter. I don’t really care about who he is or where he’s come from. I don’t need to see his test scores or an MRI to know he’s Irrelevant.

  Right now, the spiky-haired sleaze toying with the gun holstered at his side is the least of my worries. Getting back into the Unit and finding a way to help my brother and Mallory, that’s what I’ve got to focus on now.

  I just hope I can stay alive long enough to do it.

  Chapter 9

  Mallory.

  I ache. All over. Like I’m coming down with an awful illness that has no cure. Cold is creeping through my body, but my face feels hot. Sweat has started to collect at the base of my spine and my palms are clammy.

  Kit taps me on the shoulder and I jump in response. Her forehead is creased into fine lines, her voice is soothing as she glances at the weapon in my hand. “You’re going to be okay. No one is going to hurt you here.” I swallow back the tears brewing in my eyes and relax my grip on the handle of my gun. I want to believe her. I want to believe that the girl who showed me the colourful lights and the garden isn’t lying to me. She tugs my arm. “Come on. I need to check on Jackson. He’ll be mad as hell he’s not able to be out there with Trey. He’s been working on this plan for six months.”

  Her eyes find mine and a flickering of doubt stirs inside me as she leads me up the stairs. She doesn’t say anything about the gun in my hand, so I draw it in closer, unsure of what to do with it. My legs are heavy as I pull myself up the stairs, using the hand grip to assist me. “What plan?”

  Kit pauses at the top of the stairs and looks down at me as I struggle to catch my breath. She shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter.” She mumbles something under her breath, I can’t tell what she’s saying, but I think she’s annoyed.