Forsaken

by J. L. Weil

  My palms were sweaty. “Ghosted?” I echoed.

  Dash’s eyes narrowed, his hands still pressed to the wall. “It’s like a cloaker. Ghosters have the ability to make things appear different than reality. You can feel the surge of energy coming from the other side.”

  I lifted my hand to run it along the slimy bricks. “So you’re saying this wall really isn’t a wall.”

  “Precisely.”

  The wonders of this world never ceased to amaze me. “How do we break the illusion?”

  He took a step back, dropping his hands to his sides. “We can’t, not without someone with the ability to see through it or unweave the trick.”

  “Great,” I grumbled. “I don’t suppose you know of someone with those particular skills?”

  Turning sideways, a smirk teased his lips. “I have friends in low places.”

  My eyes glimmered, finding it hard not to be amused by him. “This is it, isn’t it? What the Institute is hiding? It has to be.”

  “I’d bet my left testicle,” he said.

  My entire face scrunched up, trying not to giggle. “Gross.”

  “Just keeping it real, Freckles.”

  The sky was purple with hues of pink and orange while we walked. As pretty as the sunset was, none of these colors were typical in the Heights. And that alarmed me.

  Dash and I were on our way to see Krysta, the illusionist we were hoping would agree to reveal the hidden passage. Krysta resided outside the borders of Diamond Towers in the white city below. I’d never ventured into this city before, having always been locked up in the Institute’s hub.

  During our journey, I kept my eyes peeled for anything hostile. Not just Forsaken, but also bugs big enough that they could swallow a small dog… or me. The wildlife in the Heights was no joke.

  For most of the trip, we kept to a pebbled path. “Do you ever think about the future?” I asked Dash, filling in the void of quiet with nonsense chatter.

  He adjusted the bow on his back. “What in particular? Like will there be a future?”

  “More like do you want a home? A family? Kids?” I was diving into uncharted territories of our relationship, and I thought I saw a trickle of unease begin to shift his features, but he was a master at hiding his emotions.

  He walked with an easy swagger, his black T-shirt stretching over his biceps. “I’ve never given it much thought. The white-picket-fence life has always been foreign to me. It wasn’t my life before, and I’m not sure I want it to be my life down the line.”

  Our worlds had been very different prior to the apocalypse. He hadn’t grown up in a loving home or with the stability I had, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have it now. “You might like settling down, not having to look over your shoulder.”

  The sinking sun hit the side of his face, striking flecks of silver in his eyes. “It’s a pretty dream, Freckles, but I think it is just that, a fantasy.”

  I’d always been a big dreamer, but I needed something to hope for, something I could hold on to in the midst of this nightmare. Right now, that was a life with Dash. “I bet I could change your mind.”

  He studied my face for a few moments. “I bet you could too,” he replied softly.

  And that was when I saw it. He was afraid to hope for a life worth living, worth remembering. “Do you think it’s possible for us to have kids?”

  A sparkle of amusement lit his features. “Are you talking physically? Because I definitely don’t mind practicing—safely, of course.”

  What a stereotypical guy, always thinking of sex. “Do you think if we had kids, they would be like us? Gifted?”

  “You have a lot of questions about kids. Should I be worried about something?”

  “Definitely not. I’m just curious. People obviously have gotten pregnant since awakening, right?”

  Silence followed as he thought about it. “I’m not sure. I’ve been to many settlements in the Heights, but I don’t recall seeing a single baby. If it’s possible to conceive, I do believe someone with abilities would pass down some of the mutated traits to their children. It might be diluted powers or, in our case, possibly stronger than either of ours.”

  Our baby would be a super mutant. Disappointment rippled through me. I’d had enough of the baby talk. It was depressing. “Do you think Krysta is going to agree to help us?”

  If he thought the change in conversation was abrupt, he gave no indication. “We’ll make her agree.”

  “Dash,” I said his name sternly. “We’re not going to torture her or kidnap her.”

  He kept a straight face. “Uh-huh.”

  “Dash!” I shrieked.

  “Freckles, you said it yourself. Our friends’ lives could be at stake. We need her help, and if I have to persuade her, then it’s a burden I’m willing to carry.”

  I sighed, not liking it, but knowing he was right.

  Not much later we arrived at a clearing with a semi-circle of small wooden houses with straw roofs. We approached one at the end with vines twining around the front door like garland, and I decided I didn’t want to know how Dash knew where Krysta lived.

  He lifted his hand and knocked. I inspected the other homes, curious about who lived inside and what kinds of powers they had, to have to gain the Institute’s good graces. Only those who were important were allowed to stay in the city.

  As seconds went by, I was beginning to think we had made the trip for nothing. It wasn’t like we could phone Krysta and let her know we were coming. Technology was limited in the Heights.

  I was about to open my mouth and say something snarky when I heard a scuffling from the other side of the door.

  “Whatever you do, don’t stare,” Dash whispered in my ear.

  “Why would I—”

  The door opened, and I immediately understood.

  Deep burn scars covered more than half of Krysta’s oval-shaped face. She had beautiful golden red hair, so different than my own curls. Hers looked like they belonged to the star of a shampoo commercial. Mine resembled a bird’s nest, wild and untamed.

  Her indigo eyes were filled with suspicion as she looked me up and down.

  I swallowed the gasp that rose inside my throat and smiled. “I’m Charlotte.” I extended my hand.

  Her gaze moved to my suspended fingers. Handshakes were still a thing, weren’t they? The longer my hand hung out there, the less confidence I had in the friendly gesture.

  “Are you here to kill me?” she asked.

  This time I choked. “Kill you? What? No, of course not,” I assured her, dropping my hand.

  She leaned her shoulder against the doorway, turning her cynical eyes to Dash. “Slayer.”

  “Krysta.”

  Her mouth curled into a pretty smile. “She’s cute, but you never did have a problem getting the pretty girls.”

  Dash’s lips twitched, and I resisted the urge to put my elbow in his gut. “But none of them have Charlotte’s spunk,” he retorted.

  I gave into my earlier urge, socking him in the belly.

  Krysta chuckled. “I like her. Come in.”

  “What was that for?” Dash asked as he stepped through the door after me. His lips had turned down into a pout.

  Why did I have to find every facial expression he made sexy? I pushed his shoulder. “For being an ass.”

  “I really like her,” Krysta responded.

  Dash wrinkled his nose. “So you said.”

  The three of us moved into a sitting area. Krysta waited on a rickety chair until Dash and I were situated on a couch made of cushions and wooden boxes. “I take it you’re not here for a social call. What ludicrous thing do you need me to do?” she asked, getting straight to the point.

  I grinned and looked at Dash. “I like her.”

  “Wonderful. Now that we’re all friends, you’re right. I do need to ask a favor,” Dash confirmed. “What do you know about the Institute ghosting a section of the dungeons?”

  Krysta folded her hands in her lap. �
��I know you are poking a bear if you’re thinking what I assume you’re thinking.”

  “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, or if lives weren’t in danger,” Dash emphasized.

  She sighed. “I know.”

  “But I need you to understand the risks. You’ve been loyal to the Institute. If this goes sideways, you know what they will do.”

  “Over my dead body,” I growled.

  Krysta’s eyes twinkled as she met my countenance. “I think I just met my new BFF.”

  The feeling was mutual. There was something kismet-like about meeting Krysta. We needed more Gifted like her standing with us. I still wasn’t sure who the bad guys were: the Institute or the Forsaken. The jury was still out on the decision, and until the verdict was given, they were both standing trial.

  Dash quickly laid out the rough details. “We’ll sneak you in. Can you be at the gate tomorrow at midnight?”

  Krysta nodded. “I’ll be there.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Midnight seemed as if it would never come. It was only a few hours away, and yet it felt like days. I blamed the nerves.

  If anything went wrong, I would never forgive myself. Dash. Krysta. They were both putting their lives on the line for one of my visions. But nothing seemed as important as this secret task. Since returning to Diamond Towers, Dash and I vowed to not speak another word about what we had planned.

  To say I was jumpy was an understatement.

  “Do you need a Xanax?” Ryker asked, as he watched me pace the room like a caged cat.

  I forced myself to stand still. “Are you offering?” I was only half kidding.

  He stretched out his long legs, eyeing me with scrutiny. “What is going on with you today?”

  “You don’t want to know,” I mumbled, not meaning to speak out loud.

  “You’ve been acting weird since yesterday, and I want to know why.”

  This was going horribly wrong. I gulped. “It’s nothing. I haven’t been sleeping well.” That was partially the truth.

  “Your dreams are keeping you up?” he asked. It was an assumption and right on the dot.

  I sat down on the edge of the chair across from him in the training room. “More than you know.”

  His dark brows drew together. “Have you worked on blocking them out? Or only summoning the visions at your command?”

  “Do you think that’s possible?”

  “If a person was disciplined enough.”

  There went that idea. I sank back into the chair. “It’s hopeless then. I can’t even say no to coffee.”

  He chuckled. “Few can.”

  And that was how my day went. People asked me if I was okay, and I diverted them from what was really bothering me. By the time midnight rolled around, I was wishing for more time.

  “Are you sure she’s coming?” I asked from the shadows cloaking us. Dash and I crouched behind a bush, keeping watch at the back gate.

  “She’ll be here,” Dash assured me with far more conviction than I felt.

  We were outside the perimeter of the tower near an unused shack, and I was convinced the only thing that lived inside it was a nest of laiders. I rubbed my hands up and down my arms not because I was cold, but because something eerie was out there. “I’m worried about what might find us in the meantime.”

  “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  With a yawn, I stared out over the valley. Silver beams of moonlight filtered through the trees. Unlike before, we didn’t have the coverage of complete darkness from the clouds. Tonight, it was clear. A million stars dotted the sky like glittering diamonds. If I closed my eyes, I could almost picture summer nights just like this at home, hanging out at the empty field near the high school, playing music, drinking, and the lively chatter of my friends. Fireflies in mason jars. The smell of smoke from a bonfire. And the gooey taste of chocolate and burnt marshmallow.

  I blinked, and out of thin air appeared a face, drawing me away from memory lane. My body jolted not because I was in danger, but because I hadn’t been expecting Krysta to appear so suddenly.

  Her blue eyes sparkled, knowing she had given me a fright. “Did you have doubts about me showing up? Well, I’m here. Let’s get the party started.”

  Parties, I sighed internally.

  God, I missed parties. Streamers. Cake. Presents. But most of all, I missed getting together with family and friends to celebrate life. It hadn’t crossed my mind before, but now I wanted a party for my birthday.

  But that would mean I would have to know the date, and in this new world, the old calendar system didn’t really exist. Days were marked by the sun and the moon, but nobody knew what month it was.

  “I guess I don’t have to ask if anyone saw you,” Dash said to Krysta, marveling at her stealth.

  The three of us inched our way back to the entrance of the Institute. The spotlights overhead flashed onto the ground like a prison yard. Dash had their timing down, and as soon as an opening presented itself, he gave the signal. We slunk against the wall, crawling toward the backside of the tower, and much like the other night, we planned to sneak in through one of the basement windows. I wondered what had happened to the previous guards we had knocked out. I bet they had woken up confused and ashamed. As far as I knew, nothing had been reported. They had kept the attack to themselves, which worked to our advantage. This was our only shot. Another night of unconscious guards wouldn’t go unreported.

  We slipped through the window, and this time, Dash didn’t have to render any guards comatose… until we moved farther into the labyrinth.

  This time, we were quicker, knowing what to look for and where to find a brick wall oozing magic. Once we got to the hallway with the slimy brick wall, it was all up to Krysta.

  “This is when the party gets interesting,” she said, examining the false stones.

  Krysta waved her hands in the air, skimming over the surface of the brick wall. It was the craziest thing. What had once been a solid form began to shimmer and then liquefy, until the bricks were no longer there at all.

  Unbelievable.

  A dark tunnel spanned where the wall once was. I shivered as a musty, dirty draft of cold air enveloped us. It was the same as my vision.

  “Son of a bitch,” Dash swore.

  Here I was, on the verge of finding out what was so top secret that the Institute concealed its very existence, and I was hesitant to take a step into the tunnel. It was as if my mind was warning me that everything would change if I made this leap forward.

  With a deep breath, I placed a hand on the moist wall, trying not to be grossed out, and then it hit me.

  My vision placed me back in the secret room. Zombie? Present. Beeping machine? Check. Star lying on the table? Nope. Not this time. A young man, no older than twenty, had taken her spot. His motionless face looked familiar, but I couldn’t recall his name or where I’d seen him before. Slowly, I approached the metal table. The air was so cold in the room that I could see his breath as he exhaled from his slightly parted lips.

  A tube ran from the zombie’s arm to the young man’s, and from the color that filled the tiny tube, it appeared a blood transfusion was happening—the zombie giving blood to the sedated man.

  Oh my god.

  Black straps secured their wrists and ankles to the tables like they were in a psychiatric ward.

  As I hovered between the two slabs, an overwhelming urge to help them rushed up inside me. But what could I do?

  And then my vision of future me did the most unthinkable thing.

  I moved to the side of the table and leaned down, gently pressing my lips to the zombie’s. Not the human’s as I would have expected. There was no explanation for it other than I had been compelled to kiss it. It wasn’t romantic like I locked lips with Dash, but more of a healing, nurturing gesture.

  Why would I do that?

  A scraping noise from behind me jolted me upright, and I lifted my eyes to see the outline of Ember in the door, her hands engulfed
in flames. “What are you doing?” she shrieked, outrage and disgust apparent in her voice.

  “I-I don’t know,” I stammered, panic seeping out of me. “I had to.”

  “You had to?” she echoed in disbelief. “I have urges to hit Ryker and eat a dozen chocolate chip cookies, but never to kiss a zombie.”

  Arguing about the past wasn’t going to help us, especially since the Forsaken’s eyes batted open.

  Ember’s arm gripped mine, both of us stepping back. “What the hell have you done?”

  The vision ended, leaving me standing at the entrance of the tunnel with two sets of eyes staring at me.

  What the actual fuck was that?

  Did I seriously kiss a zombie?

  Oh, hell no.

  Distractions were dangerous in a situation like this. I didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on what I’d seen. We needed to move forward. “I’m okay,” I assured them, trying to keep my voice even.

  Dash wasn’t buying it, but I refused to let him coddle me.

  Taking my hand off the wall, I stepped into the tunnel, mentally preparing myself for what I would find. The visions had given me a good idea, but I had a feeling there was even more to it.

  The tunnel ran about a quarter mile long before opening up to another section of the Institute—a round hub with four hallways stemming off it. A command station was set up against the wall, which had a large glass cooler housing hundreds of samples. There were three distinguishing colors: green, dark red, and a murky black.

  I wasn’t sure what motivated me more to investigate. The vision. Instinct. Or panic.

  Going to the wall, I ran my fingers over the trays of test tubes, beakers, and other equipment. It was a scientist’s wet dream. A lock held the cooler closed, and I tugged on it. My heart squeezed tightly when the lock didn’t budge.

  Dash unsheathed the blade strapped to his thigh. “So, what’s it going to be, Freckles? Hallway one, two, three, or four?”

  I frowned. You can do this. You got this. You’re brave. I gave myself a little pep talk and strolled down the hall closest to me.