“Why an hour?”
“That’s how long it takes.”
“How long what takes?”
“For you to change.”
I sit forward in an attempt to get up. Abruptly, restraints shoot out of the metal chair and over my wrists and ankles. “Change into what?” I shout angrily.
“One of the undead.”
What? Silenced, I stare at her as she leaves the room. Why would they want to change me into one of them? There is no cure to be changed back! What about my brother? What about me?
What can I do now?
Nothing.
Only wait for them to get what they want. Seits could have at least warned me, let me tell Luke goodbye, and kill Cory, and tell Marc that what I felt for him was love. And thanks to Separation, it doesn’t mean anything.
I grow nauseous and have to swallow hard to keep down the hurl. Fire is coursing through my veins, and I ball my hands into tight fists, trying to fight the discomfort.
It’s no use.
My brain is melting, and it becomes hard to focus. My eyesight blurs, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t think clearly.
There’s a sound, “The transformation is taking effect. Remove the shackles and observe.”
Foam forms in my mouth.
I slither from the chair, crouched and ready. I’m alone. A growl that starts in my chest escapes from my slowly drooling mouth.
My fingers move. I look down at my hands. My flesh looks appetizing. I force myself not to bite into it. I want to, but I don’t want to inflict pain upon myself.
I growl again, growing hungry and impatient. I’m frustrated and sick of being alone. I can smell fresh flesh, and my mouth waters. I smell warm blood, and my throat itches to swallow it.
Angrily, I flip the table and kick the chair I stood from as I snarl through my teeth. White fog is sinking down on me from the ceiling.
I cough, hurling up tar as I crumple over, blacking out.
I squint against the blinding light. A chilly breeze rustles my loose-fitting shirt.
I’m lifted off my feet and slammed to the ground. Dirt clouds around me, briefly shading me from the sun. It hovers before settling slowly.
Dropping into a crouch, I scan my surroundings. Nothing but land. I growl, hunger ratcheting up my anger.
I stride across the red ground, heels dragging with each step, until something catches my senses. In the cool breeze, heat wafts past my knees. Its iron aroma carries me toward the tantalizing scent. A soft thumping sound propels me forward and makes my mouth water.
I’m running, chasing the pleasure. A howl sounds behind me, something of a warning, but it means nothing to me now.
The source of the smell and sound reveals itself in the short distance. A snarl erupts from my throat as I race toward it.
“Kylie,” the flesh says as it tries to escape me.
I run after the body with blond hair and green eyes, mouth foaming, watering, and thirsting for a taste. I leap in the air and land on top of the flesh I’m dying to sink my teeth into. I growl as I claw at the arms that are restricting me from attacking it.
“Ky, stop! Let me help you!”
I screech again, bowing to take a bite out of the hand holding back my arm. I’m punched in my face. I fall and have to scramble to my feet.
“What happened to you?” it hisses.
I growl and charge. There are two blaring snaps. I hit the ground.
A sharp pain attacks my legs, but I stand against it. The flesh holds an object, two blaring snaps echo the open land again, and two bolts of lightning blasts from the object in its hand. I stumble back, the effects of something thrashing against my chest. I drop to the ground, growling.
My arms are moved, and I am dragged backward, scrambling to get up. It’s impossible.
Chapter Sixteen
I heave, taking a lungful of dusty oxygen. When I part my lids, I’m looking up at the arms of a Vojin leaning away from me. Before they notice I’m conscious, I shut my eyes.
“She’s still bleeding,” Cory says.
“We can remove the infection, but we can do nothing to heal her wounds. It was not an infection created by a bite or by us. I would be careful if I were you, Cory.”
Behind my closed lids, the sun beams down directly on top of me. It’s baking my exposed flesh. I am lifted and carried, presumably by Cory, who walks us away. Tires screech to a stop and a few doors open and close. I’m gently laid upon on the ground.
Luke grabs my hand, squeezing it far too tightly. The kneecaps of my left and right knees and center of my chest radiates with heat as the wounds heal. The pain alleviates, and though I was already awake, so as not to tip off anyone watching, I allow my eyes to flutter and my lips to part as I exhale in relief. We stand in open desert land, not covered by hills or any structures. Luke pulls me from the ground, and I feel normal, thankfully no longer wanting to eat myself or anyone else.
Looking me over, Luke snaps, “Shit! Are you okay, Ky? What happened to you?” I see worry in his eyes. Fighting back the tears lining his lower lids, he wipes his nose with the back of his hand. Luke’s not one to show his soft side publicly, and he’s resisting the urge to throw his arms around me and exhale in relief. I rub his shoulder to reassure him that I’m okay.
Another truck pulls up beside us. Seits jumps out. Too focused on Luke, I didn’t notice Jord standing next to Cory. Maybe he got out with Luke. Seits walks to his side, and with her back to me, she whispers to him. Twisting around to face me, she urgently says, “Kylie, you are fine! It was a part of the test and proved nothing but what you’ve confirmed.”
“What fucking tests?” Luke shouts, partly charging at the twin generals.
I grab his shoulder. While we all understand his anger, it wouldn’t be in our best interest to take on the generals. “Luke,” I go to explain to prevent his assault. “After you left—” I cough once. It feels like sandpaper is scraping my throat. I’m thirsty. “—Seits informed me that because Cory practically stalks me, I was suspected of being an implant, and I needed to undergo tests to ensure I was not. They took my blood and pumped me with this black and yellow stuff that turned me into a Zombie. It was very odd, Luke. But I don’t know how I am no longer one. I woke up after you healed me.” I point to the ground that still has the slight imprint of my body where I was sprawled. “I remember changing. I remember trying to attack Cory. I remember him shooting me and blacking out.” I look at Seits. As I replay the events, anger boils in my gut. “Am I finished being tested?” I ask, keeping myself from shouting. “Or,” I continue, partly hissing through my teeth, “must I continue to leave myself open to being turned into a Zombie and getting killed?”
Seits clasps her hands behind her back, looks me dead in the eyes, and says, “You are clear, Kylie. You, Luke, and Cory can take the truck back to the corridors. Jord and I will ride back in the others.”
“Luke,” Jord begins, “have everyone in before dark. We are going to bomb the hole and sweep the surrounding area to minimize our threat. We don’t want any more casualties. Respond.”
“I understand,” Luke says, and we get in the truck Seits got out of.
The ride back is awkwardly silent. All three of us likely have several things we’d like to shout. Luke keeps his eyes peeled, still fuming. We’re far from the base, driving over nothing but dirt, periodically passing a shrub or tumbleweed. Mountains in the distance line the land and slice the cloudless sky in half. Just beyond the mountains to the west is a wide stretch of deserted land that goes on for miles, valleys of dirt and scattered grass, minimal trees for shade stretch thousands of miles to the Ocean where an entire state resides miles beneath the surface. We’ve been there once. But it wasn’t a pleasure, knowing the millions of people who must’ve lived in that state before it was drowned by the flood.
The air is blasting through the truck; the wind whipping my loose strands of hair. It feels amazing to my still burning skin, hot from both the blazing sun
and whatever they injected me with. I relax on the seat and kick my boots up on the dash, using the toe of my boot to adjust the vent. Cory is a total asshole for what he did. Seits too. The two of them, though having different motives, set me up. And I won’t stand for being used or targeted.
I begin to make out the base in the heatwaves, but it’s hard to judge how near or far it is.
When we make it back to base, Luke parks in front of Jord’s office, and we jump out and walk to our home with Cory following us all the way through the door. Once he closes it, I whirl on him. Shifting my weight, I put all my might in every punch. Elbow spiked high over my head, I drive down every blow fast and steady, landing solid jabs in his face. I do my best to shatter his cheekbones and knock out a few teeth.
Luke yanks me off him. I shove Luke away from me, shouting, “Back off!” And I’m back at Cory like a magnet. On my next punch, I knock Cory off his feet, and I resort to kicking him, shoving the toe of my boot into his ribcage and neck. Thankfully, one lands on his face.
“Stop, Ky!” he shouts, spluttering blood. “Let me explain!” I bend down and throw another jab in his mouth, wanting to shut him up forever.
Luke tugs me back again. I’m shaking out my fist; it’s pouring blood by what seems like the pint. I rip the bottom half of my shirt off and wrap it around my knuckles. I see Cory stand in my periphery.
Once he’s on his feet, I point, yelling, “You set me up, you son of a bitch! I should kill you right now!” I reach around to my rear holster, finding it empty, forgetting I was stripped of all my weapons.
“I didn’t do anything,” Cory shouts, arms splayed at his sides.
“You’re a liar! You knew you were being watched. You told them you would show them who the implants were by always being around them. And you are always trying to be around me! You tried to set me up,” I accuse angrily. “Just because you are a snake, a traitor, a manipulator, a terrorist,” I yell, “doesn’t mean I am.” I step toward him, and Luke holds me back.
Cory dabs at his busted lip and swollen eye. Looking over his blood-smeared hand, he fires back, “I did tell them that, Ky! Sheesh, what the hell is wrong with you? What I was doing didn’t include you. Sir Jord and Madam Seits know that.”
“Just because they know doesn’t mean whoever else is watching you knows, you idiot!” I lunge at Cory, but Luke keeps me back. I grunt and jerk against his hold. “Agh! Think about it, Cory. When the Trade steps in, the generals are obligated to follow the Trade’s orders. They see you around me, that’s showing the Trade I’m an implant, and they will want me to prove I am not.”
“I’m sorry, Ky,” he says, pressing his palms together. “I swear.”
Luke throws a glance at me, one that questions if I’m okay. I give him a quick nod, and he releases me, taking a step toward Cory. “You saw her when she was a Zombie and shot her? How’d she turn back?” Luke asks.
“I snuck one of their syringes with the Creation cure and used it.”
He’s a liar! But I blurt, “Okay. You can leave now.” I’m losing a lot of blood and need Luke to heal me before I grow too light-headed. I’m also dying of thirst and need to rest.
Cory leaves, taking his exit with a nod. I grab Luke’s hand and encourage him with a rise of my bloody hand to heal it. Before doing so, he plucks out a piece of Cory’s tooth. “I’m keeping this as a souvenir,” he says with a smug grin.
I roll my eyes. “Just heal my damn hand, Luke.” He heals me in seconds. I ball and un-ball my fists, testing it out. Taking off my vest, I reveal, “He’s lying. There is no cure, and we all know that. I woke to a Vojin, only I pretended I was sleeping. They took out the infection and warned him I was not infected by a Zombie but by an injection.”
“You think he set you up?”
“No, I think they set him up. And he is a negligent idiot, and he needed to taste his own blood because of it. I’m angry because they used me as bait.”
Luke hugs me, patting my back. “You scared the shit out of me, Ky. The call came in from Cory saying you’d been turned into a Zombie, and he had to take you down. You look worn. Go clean up and get some rest. I’m going to tell everyone to wrap up and let them know to be in before night falls.”
I grab his shoulder as he pivots. “They took my blood.”
Gaze cast on his boots, he doesn’t turn around fully. “I heard you mention that. I guess we’ll find out what they know, if anything, soon enough.”
“What do you think they’ll do to us?”
One shoulder shrugs. “Depends. If they were truly using you as bait, they wouldn’t care to test your blood, but maybe they also wouldn’t have taken it in the first place. I don’t know, Ky. We’ll just wait and see.”
I let him go, and he continues out of the house. I’m not afraid of them finding out our secret. If I die, let me die, but I do care about being tortured and tested on. The scientist would love to get their hands on Creations like Luke and I, who’ve removed our implants. They are interested in seeing how the Vojin cells bind with the Creation’s DNA. How two entities can merge and primary control can be the Creation’s. They may actually be considering a new species of Creations, finding great value in Vojin-infused Creations; our minds are wired differently, our bodies function differently. Even I don’t know the depth of our physics and structure, but the scientists will definitely find out.
But they won’t find out with me.
I clean my blood from the floor and toss the towels in the trash. I’m drained and need to sleep. My body has been through more than it can handle today.
I go to my room. The marbles I placed in the sock are clinking against each other. They shouldn’t want anything right now. Why would they be calling us?
I take out the sock with the marbles and walk to my bed to empty the contents. Red-colored marbles topple out of the sock. They were previously the colors of the Vojin. This must mean something is wrong, but without speaking to them or going there—neither of which will I be doing—I won’t find out what it is.
It might be a good thing for something to be wrong.
I pick up one of the marbles and hold it between my thumb and index finger. A dim light appears as the marble whispers, “The time is coming soon. Be ready to undergo the ending of the current species of mankind. What is destroyed, we hope can be reconstructed. With your help, we can stop the destruction and maintain an understanding.” The marbles shift back to their original blue and green shade and stop moving on their own.
I put them back in the sock, and I put the sock back in the drawer.
Chapter Seventeen
As much as I would like to lounge around after being turned into a cannibal…it’s not an off day. After I clean up and eat a protein bar, I shove on my helmet and head outside to finish the day.
“Kylie Alexander,” I’m called by a light, male voice as I’m leaving the stoop of our corridors.
I look out to see a man marching in my direction.
I halt, acknowledging the slicked back black hair, beige slacks, collared navy-blue shirt with a fancy stitched T on the pocket, and a silver and black plastic and metal earpiece on his ear that looks artificial. All the Trade affiliates have one. They all wear the same uniform, and they all have their hair smoothed back and short, stopping at the nape of their neck. Females included.
At attention, I stand, shoulders back, chest out, back straight, in silence. You speak to the Trade after they have requested you to speak.
Looking straight forward, I wait and avoid eye contact.
He stops in front of me, stepping twice, spacing his feet evenly apart, shoulder width. “Kylie Alexander. I am Trade Officer Audrey Grandin. I’d like to speak with you. Reply.”
“Yes, sir.”
“In your home,” he says, directing me toward the front door of the house.
I turn on my heels, heading back inside.
“There has been a lot of talk about the actions involving the Creations and humans within this sector.
As you are aware, we keep watch on all sectors and all Creations. There is an understanding put forth in every Creation. The rules and laws for Creations to follow are not complicated. These actions go against your required roles as Creations. No Creation was designed to engage in relations with another. It will prevent you all from undergoing the task you were created for: War, to fight for the America. To protect the America. To stand for the America is the entire point of every Creation’s life. The protection and priority of keeping your twin first is where your relation to another being should stand.” Being? “If this should change, you not only risk your own life, but the life of your twin. No Creation wants to see their twin die.”
“I was turned into a Zombie. Ordered by the Trade.” I change the subject. Speaking out of turn may get me a fine, but I can’t ignore this. I need an explanation.
Trade Officer Grandin removes his earpiece that someone is speaking loudly into. They never remove their earpieces. Could it be that the person at the other end is a distraction, or has he muted it? “There was discussion that you were a possible implant from the Vojin, the outsiders labeled as protectors of the Earth.” I dare not cut in to explain I know the Vojin’s relationship to the America. “You have proved yourself not to be. However, in order for us to be sure, you and others needed to undergo some tests.” Tests. It’s plural. “You are aware of the persisting threat that has been placed by them. This is not a recent threat. This is a threat that was issued years ago. Near the first destruction. We are not sure what they are after, but we have been putting forth more…” he stalls, tapping his thumb on his knee, “research to understand them, which will probably help to defeat them.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, what kind of research?”
“That is above your Creation level of clearance.”
I do not appreciate his response. I have the right to know what’s going on. Especially because of that note about my parents being implants from the Trade to the Vojin. Would that happen to be the research? Could his research be code for implanting Creations in the homes of the Vojin to understand them? I can’t say anything about the letter, but I wonder. “With all due respect, Trade Officer Grandin, every day my twin Luke and I go outside and put our lives on the line for you, for the citizens of the America, and for our country as a land. We deserve to know something. We need more information.”
The Separation Trilogy Box Set: Books 1 -3 Page 43
