Caged (The Idyllic Series Book 1)

by Amy Johnson

  I take a deep breath, letting it out in a slow stream.

  “One day,” I say. “Maybe when you’re older.”

  Linux glares at me, but I just smirk, hurrying out of the room with Knox in tow.

  We follow the directory for a long time in silence, listening to the slow drip and trickle of water and the sound of each other breathing. The path to the sleeping area leads us past the meeting place, where the Elders’ chairs sit empty, and the cafeteria. Knox walks behind me at a brisk pace, keeping up much better than before. Mud covers his feet and legs, caking his pants up to his knees.

  I slow down when we reach the last turn and hold out a hand to stop Knox.

  “What’s wrong?” he whispers, leaning in close behind me. His lips graze strands of my hair as he talks and makes me shiver.

  “Nothing,” I respond in the same tone of voice.

  I lean against the wall and peek around the corner into the sleeping area.

  Snoring reaches out to greet me, muffled by blankets, clothes, and pillows. I search their bodies for familiar faces, and tears well up in my throat. There had been a time when I wasn’t sure I would ever see this sight again. I find the large body of Charlie sleeping close to the door, wrapped in a blanket made of strips of motley fabric. Beside him is a much smaller figure--a young girl who used to go on runs with me above ground. The bodies go on and on, and I name them in my head.

  Azura. Rhyan. Jax. Chloe.

  They sleep close enough together to share body heat, sometimes even a cover. Their cheeks are tinted blue from the cold, regardless of the fire that burns in the pit between them. I want to snuggle in with them, to blend in again.

  Yet, a fine line separates the Luddites and me, drawing itself out in the concrete floor under my bare feet.

  The images of the humans trapped above ground haunts me, and my mind won’t stop turning until they’re all safe and free. I ache for them, for all the things they’re missing out on.

  “Are you going to go in?” Knox asks, resting his chin on my shoulder. I shrug him off and nod.

  “You stay out here,” I say.

  “What? Why?”

  “It would be too much for Cyrus. I’ve been gone for awhile, and suddenly, I show up with a strange boy in tow.”

  “What if someone sees me?”

  “Defend yourself,” I say, biting my lip. “You took down that cybernetic earlier. You’re perfectly capable.”

  He gives me a skeptical look, nodding as he takes a step back from me.

  “Look,” I say. “I’ll be right back. Just don’t wander.”

  With that, I turn and walk into the sleeping area, tiptoeing over blankets and bodies as I walk toward our usual spot. The American flag blanket rises into view, tucked into our back corner against the wall. His body sits upright, and he clutches a book to his chest, neck bending at a painful angle. I read the spine out of sheer curiosity. It’s an anthology of poems--one of my favorites.The cover itself wraps around him, and I chuckle at his mermaid legs. What was he doing looking at my book? Did the words bring me home for a moment?

  “Hey, Cyrus,” I whisper as I kneel down and grip the spine of the book he clings to. His grip tightens on it as I pull, but he continues to sleep.

  After tugging at the book for a solid minute, it breaks free, and I fall backwards onto the ground. I readjust my body and sit with my legs crossed in front of me. Then, I scoot toward him and put a cold hand on his cheek.

  “Wake up, Cyrus.”

  A groan escapes his lips and the bridge of his nose wrinkles. One eye opens, peering through his short eyelashes. Slowly, the other eye joins the first, and he reaches out with a quivering hand to touch my cheek.

  “Eden,” he mumbles in a voice choked by sleep.

  “That’s my name,” I say, pressing my hand against his.

  A smile appears on his lips that reaches all the way up to his eyes. In one swift movement, he launches himself at me, wraps both arms around me, and buries me in his chest.

  Everything about Cyrus comforts me. His mousy brown hair scratches my forehead as he hugs me. His hot breath cascades down my spine and joins the hands that he can’t seem to hold still as they check every inch of me. The colorful tattoos dance in and out of my peripheral as he hugs me. His body shakes, and one hand plants itself on the back of my head to press me tighter against him.

  “Cyrus, I can’t breathe,” I mumble into the coarse shirt he wears.

  He pushes me away from him, gripping my shoulders just like Linux before. They should stop spending so much time together.

  Cyrus’ mouth moves trying to form words, but no sound comes out. He blinks a few times before I pat his leg in reassurance.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” I say, answering the questions I see forming on his tongue. “Yes, I’m really here.”

  “Oh, my God,” is all he can say as his eyes search my body.

  A long minute passes, and he takes a shaky breath before planting a kiss on my forehead.

  “Promise you’re okay?” he asks, but emotion laces into his voice.

  “I’m okay.”

  With a nod, the tears start rolling down his cheeks. I grimace.

  “Cyrus, don’t cry. You’ll make me cry,” I plead, wiping a droplet from his cheek.

  He sniffles but laughs.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve just missed you.”

  “I know.”

  The hand that’s not holding mine reaches up and tangles itself in my hair.

  “Your hair is so short,” he says, wiggling his fingers. “And your skin. It’s soft. Are you sure this isn’t a dream?”

  I pull his hand out of my hair and place it back in his lap.

  “It’s real. They cut all the knots out of my hair. Apparently, I had a lot. My skin is soft from the cleaning procedures.”

  “Did they hurt you?” he asks, and his face molds into a much more serious one. “I’ll destroy every single one of them if they hurt you, Eden.”

  My breath catches in my throat, and I let out a strangled sound.

  Did they hurt me?

  My hand slips out of his, wrapping itself around my wrist. The pain lingers, even still, like background noise--a dull ache under my skin. The silk scars on my forearm dance in the overhead light; so, I flip my arm over, moving them out of sight. The wounds they inflicted run deeper than the surface, though, grapple for a spotlight in my mind, and threaten to push me into madness.

  “I’m okay,” I say all in one breath, unable to look up at him. I’ve never lied to him before.

  “That’s not what I asked. Eden, did they hurt you?”

  “It’s complicated,” I say, glancing up at him, “and I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Cyrus wouldn’t understand. His protectiveness would morph into rage and blind him. If he knew everything that happened inside the Anthros, his fear of going above ground would be pushed to the side. Knowing him, he would storm their glass castle and get himself killed.

  No. Cyrus can’t know what happened.

  It would be too much for him.

  “That’s not what’s important, though,” I say, smiling at him while I rub circles with my thumb on my scars. “I’m here now. I escaped.”

  “And how exactly did you do that? No one has ever returned from the Anthros.”

  “Well, I had some help. When they put me on exhibit, I had a partner--an exhibit mate. He helped me. You really have to meet him.”

  I clutch his hand and push myself up, pulling him along once I steady myself. We weave through the sleeping humans, and I hop out into the hallway, beaming.

  “Knox, this is Cy--”

  My voice trails off as I’m met with empty tunnel. I turn and look the other way, but still, I don’t see him.

  “You haven’t had an imaginary friend since we were little,” Cyrus says, attempting to hide the laughter in his voice.

  “He’s not imaginary,” I snap, looking down both tunnels in rapid succession. Where could he have possibly
gone after I specifically told him not to wander off?

  “Then, where is he?”

  “I don’t know.”

  My voice echoes through the tunnel as panic sets in. If anyone finds him, their reaction will be similar to Linux’s, except I won’t be there to help him. He looks too much like a cyber, and after my mistake of bringing home the cybernetic that looked too human, they won’t think twice about shooting him.

  “Look,” I say, grabbing the corner of Cyrus’ shirt, “you have to help me find him. If someone else sees him wandering through the tunnels, they’re going to think he’s a machine.”

  Cyrus nods and leads the way through the tunnels.

  We walk for a while, calling his name in frantic whispers, peering down empty tunnels and circling back around on paths we’ve already come down. The panic sinks deeper into my chest and brings tears to my eyes.

  This is my fault. I shouldn’t have brought him out here in the first place. Maybe he wasn’t ready to leave the Anthros.

  “Oh, Cyrus.”

  My head snaps back at the sound of a voice right behind us.

  In a crossroads between four tunnels, Emory stands with hands limp at her sides, wearing a lopsided smile. Her long braid of silver hair rests on her shoulder and contrasts with the black, dress-length shirt. Are all of our clothes black and I’m just now noticing? After being surrounded by white, the colors surrounding me seem more vibrant, even if they are mostly dark.

  “Eden? Is that you? Why are you dressed that way?”

  I glance down at myself, turning up my lip at her. What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?

  “And what happened to your arm?” Emory continues, scrunching her nose up at the blood soaked white wrap. I open my mouth to explain, but she raises a hand. “Never mind. You can tell us what happened in the morning. For now, the Elders are meeting, and we need Cyrus.”

  “What’s going on?” Cyrus asks as he places a hand in the small of my back and pushes me in Emory’s direction. He wants me to come along.

  “We found an intruder. A machine. The other Elders called for Linux. We figured we could get the chip that the boy needs and then destroy him.”

  I stop mid-step and raise a hand to steady myself against the wall.

  “Where are you keeping him?” I ask, staring at the ground. A rat runs by our feet, squealing as it darts into another tunnel. She has found Knox. I know it--better than I know my own name.

  “He’s being held in the meeting place,” Emory says as she turn to look at me, “but how did you know it was a male?”

  I glance at Cyrus, take a deep breath, and then sprint past Emory.

  Cyrus calls after me, but his desperate yelling falls on uncaring ears. I have to get to him before they try to cut open his back. Linux would stop them, if he got there before me, but what if I’m too late?

  My arms pump at my side as I run, hair flowing behind me like flames. The cold air stings my face; shards of rock embed themselves into my bare, mud-caked feet. Once or twice I stumble, hands skidding against the walls as I catch myself. The skin on my palms comes back to me bloody, speckled with green slime and bits of loose concrete.

  Nothing else matters but getting to Knox.

  I brought him here. I can’t let anything happen to him.

  As I come around the last stretch of tunnel before the meeting place entrance, the screaming begins. The sound rolls low at first, a combination of moaning and begging. Deciphering the sounds into words proves impossible, but it sends my body into overdrive. By the time I reach the opening, the screaming reaches a record high--infantile and broken only for the victim to take gasping breaths.

  “Stop!” I scream as I bolt into the room and crash into someone. I shove them off of me, searching the room for Knox. I find him leaned against the back wall, behind the Elders’ chairs, turned so that he faces away from the two men holding him. The last Elder stands behind me, looking disheveled. I must have plowed through him.

  Knox’s bare back shines in the yellow lights. His shirt lies in a heap beside him. As I stare, the muscles in his back contract and quiver with the rest of his body. A rope ties his hands together in front of him, matching the one on his ankles.

  “Eden?”

  I notice then that the screaming stopped. Knox glances over his shoulder at me, eyes wide and pleading.

  “Oh, God,” I whisper, throwing myself between him and the two men. “There’s been a mistake. Please, don’t do this.”

  “Step aside, Eden,” one of the men says, pointing his machete-like weapon at me. He aims it at my chin and forces me to look up.

  “He’s not a machine,” I say, taking a step back until my open hand comes in contact with Knox’s back. He tenses up at my touch and whines.

  “Look at him,” the other man says. “No human being is that perfect.”

  While the man is right, I know why Knox looks perfect. His entire life has consisted of constant grooming and shaping by the machines. He can’t help that they turned him into a designer human.

  “You’re jumping into this,” I groan, shaking my head. “Think rationally. If you just look at him, you’ll see that I’m right.”

  “Actually, looking at him brought us to this conclusion.”

  I roll my eyes and push the man’s knife away from me. It remains at his side, and I kneel down beside Knox, turning his face towards them.

  “He’s not perfect,” I say. “The eyes. Heterochromia.”

  “You’ve been fooled by eyes before, I recall.”

  I narrow my eyes at him.

  “Fine. Explain the sweat, then.”

  “They’re upgrading the machines. It’s a new modification.”

  I gape at him and shake my head in disbelief.

  “Why would they want that modification?” I hiss. “Okay, then why is he so heavy?”

  They stare at me, unanswering. Good. I stumped them.

  “Cybernetics weigh less than a crate of supplies,” I explain, “because the magnetic vehicles can’t support a weight greater than fifty pounds. Try to pick him up; he weighs a ton, I’m sure.”

  “I’m sure they have ways of adding weight to cybernetics. Eden, just move. We’re getting tired of waiting.”

  “What about the emotion? Look, he’s literally shaking because he’s so scared.”

  It’s my last card.

  In the back of my mind, I know emotion means nothing. Eins and Zwei show emotion to a much stronger degree than any human being I’ve ever met. Yet, the Elders know nothing about the Idyllic. Even when I was tricked before, the cyber lacked basic emotion in his features.

  Both of the men falter and glance at each other.

  Silence stretches between us and braids in with the sound of Knox’s panting. I run my hand up his spine behind my back in an attempt to comfort him, but his breathing only quickens. Goosebumps rise to meet my hand.

  Emory, Cyrus, and Linux run into the room, taking in the sight with wide eyes.

  Cyrus takes two giant steps toward the men and shoves them away from me.

  “How dare you threaten my sister,” he growls, pushing himself up to full height and getting in their faces.

  “She was in our way!” the machete wielder replies as he points the weapon at me again.

  “I swear,” Cyrus growls, knocking the weapon out of his hand. It clatters against the floor as Cyrus continues his tirade against the man. “If you ever touch her, I will tear you apart with my bare hands.”

  “Oh, will you? Do something, kid.”

  I turn away from the both of them and kneel down beside Knox. His eyes meet mine and my hand rises to graze his cheek.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, under the yelling of the two men behind me. “I shouldn’t have asked you to stay out in the hallway.”

  Knox mumbles something, his lips moving, but I can’t understand him.

  Linux appears on the other side of him, eyebrows turned down.

  “Is he okay? I tried to get here as fast as I c
ould.”

  “I think he’s just shaken up. Help me untie him.”

  We work together, Linux on his feet and me on his wrist to untie the complicated knots. The ropes fall free from his wrists, and Knox clutches my hands. With a groan, Linux leans down and rips the fabric rope with his teeth. Knox clambers to his feet, muttering words of thanks to Linux as he clings to me.

  We stand together, one of his arms wrapped around my shoulder to hold himself up and one my mine wrapped around his waist. Linux stands on the other side of him, crossing his arms.

  “Is he alright?” Cyrus asks, his face flushed red from arguing with the Elder.

  “He’s fine,” I reply, looking up at Knox. He nods and gazes down at me with a look that reminds me of the one he gave me when we first met. It brings heat to my cheeks and forces me to look away.

  “Explain what’s going on, Eden,” Emory barks, grabbing the Elder that’s in Cyrus’s face and pulling him away. “Who is this boy?”

  “His name is Knox. He was my exhibit mate in the Anthros. Knox helped me escape.”

  “And you’re sure he’s human?”

  I swallow hard, thinking back to all the nights spent in our conjoined room. His singing voice. His undivided attention when I talk. His warmth. The kiss we shared, even if it was forced.

  “He’s human,” I say as I glance up again at Knox. He’s still looking at me, but his face shows a different emotion than before. This time, his lips form a tight line. He looks away quickly, looking instead at Cyrus.

  “Emory, you know they don’t keep cybernetics in the exhibits,” Linux blurts, making me jump. I swivel my head towards him. He never used to speak out during meetings. Even more surprising is his tone of annoyance. “If Eden says he was in the Anthros with her, he has to be a human.”

  “I trust you, Eden. What do we have if not trust in one another?” Emory asks, ignoring him. “We just have to be careful.”

  Cyrus laughs--a dry sound that comes from deep in his throat. Emory shoots him a dangerous look.

  I open my mouth to thank her, but Linux cuts me off.

  “Can she go now? She just got home. Surely you aren’t going to interrogate her right away.”