Caged (The Idyllic Series Book 1)

by Amy Johnson

“Do you remember when I asked you if you honestly thought you were free when you spent so much time running?”

  I nod, but he doesn’t look at me.

  “You never answered me.”

  The silence falls between us like a blanket and weighs my shoulders down. I bite my lip, looking away from him.

  “Eden,” he whispers, and his voice sounds like the one in my dream the night before. “Is a life of running from the machines really better than a life of luxury as one?”

  “Yes,” I reply, not letting my mind muddle through the unsure thoughts.

  “Even if it means putting everyone you fight for at risk?”

  I swallow hard, bringing my hands up to frame my face. I squeeze my cheeks until my eyes pinch closed and the water is nothing more than a blue drop.

  “I don’t know, Knox,” I finally say, pulling my knees up to my chest. “They’re everything to me. As long as Cyrus and Linux are alive, I have reason to keep moving. I don’t know what I would do without them.”

  Knox wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his side. I lean against his shoulder.

  “I never want you to hurt,” he repeats. “I just want you to be free.”

  What does that even mean, though? My definition of free opposes his so strongly. He thinks luxury and empowerment is freedom, while I believe it is about being able to make your own decisions, even if one of those is to die.

  I replay his monologue over and over in my head, dissecting the words. He was speaking in present tense.

  Knox still wants to be a machine.

  That thought rams into my stomach and pushes me away from him. My hands tremble, and I dig my toes into the soft dirt of the bank.

  “Just how far would you go to give me freedom?” I ask softly.

  He doesn’t answer.

  “Knox,” I prod, glancing over at him. He stares out toward the river and knits his hands in his lap. He licks his lips, opens his mouth, and whispers,

  “I am not sorry.”

  Suddenly, the world around me comes to life with the clicking of machinery and the humming of paralyzers, and I scramble to my feet. Hundreds of Artificials appear in the sky above the water, hovering like hummingbirds as they focus in on us.

  My hands tremble in fear, but the new emotion wiggling into my psyche is pure, unfiltered rage. It drives me to grab a handful of his precious hair and throw him to the ground.

  He roars in pain, and his face contorts.

  “You did this!” I scream, positioning myself on top of him, two handfuls of his shirt in my fists. “You brought them here.”

  His silence drapes over the tiny gap between our chests, heavier than Linux’s curtain. I want to hear him admit this is his doing--admit he’s to blame.

  More importantly, I crave to hear his apology. The four words that my dream Knox spoke ring through my ears but are replaced by his echoing and crippling silence.

  He isn’t sorry. He doesn’t regret anything.

  I pull my arm back, letting my balled-up fist linger over my shoulder for another second. Every fiber of my being wants to let it fly, to punish him for betraying me.

  One corner of my mind, though, begs me to stop.

  That bit radiates icy pain, forcing the tears out of my eyes as I push myself away from him, crawling backwards away from the riverbank. I couldn’t hurt him.

  He reaches for me, grabbing empty air. His lips move, but I hear nothing. I am deafened by the Artificials around us.

  They represent the wind of my dream and create an entire galaxy between the two of us. Blood covers Knox’s hands because this is all his fault. He did this.

  No, I let him do this.

  I brought him here.

  If I don’t stop him, every Luddite I’ve ever loved will become the bodies scattered along his trail of atrocities.

  I push myself up off the ground, sprinting into the safety of the Underground.

  The tunnels pass by me on all sides like mirages as I race toward the weapons storeroom. We don’t stand a chance unarmed. Even with weapons, though, the chances of survival are so slim that my heart breaks at the thought.

  I crash into someone, tumbling to the ground on my hands and knees. The concrete tears through layers of skin, and my hands sting as I push myself up. Blood stains my jeans.

  “Eden, what’s wrong?”

  I blink at the person I ran into--a boy two years older than me named Mason.

  “Artificials,” I say, taking lungfuls of air with each staggered breath. “The Artificials are here.”

  His eyes go wide, and he begins to shake.

  “Go tell the Elders,” I manage to spit out, clutching my two raw hands against my chest. “We’re under attack. It’s a swarm.”

  Mason nods and takes off at a sprint in the opposite direction I’m heading, disappearing into the darkness. I watch him run away, wondering if that was the last time I’ll ever see him alive.

  I did this. I brought Knox here.

  I turn on my heels and resume my sprint toward the weapons. Skidding around the corner, I grasp the wall of the entryway, nearly falling into the girl that’s standing guard.

  “What’s going on, Eden?” she asks, following me as I tear through the boxes and strap countless guns onto my shoulders.

  “We’re under attack,” I mutter, filling my pockets with grenades.

  She breathes a string of obscenities and jumps headfirst into the frenzy I’ve started.

  When I have several guns on my back, two pockets full of grenades, and a bag of clubs, I head back toward the door, holding a small pistol in my free hand. The girl, Astrid, follows behind me. She carries ammunition for her own rifle.

  We hit the tunnels in a slow jog. My ears strain to pick up the sounds of machinery, but I only hear water, rats, and the hum of life above ground. No gunshots, and no paralyzers.

  We’re two turns away from the meeting place when Astrid holds her hand out to stop me as she checks around the corner. I press against the wall behind her trying to even my breathing. I need to be in complete control when we come across the Artificials.

  Astrid holds up two fingers as she turns back to me, eyes wide.

  “Okay, that’s one for each of us,” I whisper, squeezing her arm to reassure her. Her body shakes, and she swallows. “Remember, aim for the joints. Their white coating is bulletproof. We can’t kill them, but we can slow them down.”

  She nods and presses the heavy gun against her chest.

  I’ve never taken Astrid out on missions. If she’s prepared or not, I have no idea.

  I push past her and crouch low as I peer around the corner. Like she said, two Artificials stand at the next intersection with paralyzers humming at the ready. Astrid’s legs press into my back as she hovers above me.

  There’s no time for miscalculation. One shot is the only chance I’m given.

  One bullet, and they know where we are.

  One bullet, and the fight begins.

  I raise the pistol up and aim for the gray area above their back plating before the neck begins. With one eye shut, I zero in, taking a shallow breath as my index finger presses into the trigger.

  The sound of my gun tears through the quiet, and the Artificials come to life in the form of a series of clicks. Lucky for us, the one I aimed at stands still as the other turns towards us. The bullet hits its target and tears through the machine. Its head falls to one side, unhinged. As its body falls, the other takes its aim.

  Right above my head.

  Out of instinct, I take off running and throw myself at its legs in an attempt to knock it off balance. The blue bullet soars over me like a bolt of lighting against the dark tunnel. The smell of burning hair finds me as the Artificial crashes to the ground.

  It’s stronger than me, but my body moves without being told to.

  I aim for the black screen that serves as its face, pulling the trigger before it can even process what’s happening. The screen explodes in a show of fireworks, sending sparks of
red and yellow onto the concrete.

  Unable to see, its body flails under me, a singular arm gripping my thigh. Knives dig into my skin and tear down my leg in jagged streaks. A scream of pain escapes my lips, but I don’t budge. Blinking back tears, I fire once more, separating its head from its body just like the first.

  The body of the Artificial falls limp under me, gears turning and machinery hissing as it attempts to self-correct the damage done. I push off from it, staggering to my feet.

  By now, the burning smell reaches a climax, and I turn toward Astrid, beaming.

  “We did it, Ast-”

  My voice falls just as flat as the two Artificials, and my heart stops as I take in the sight of my partner. The silver paralyzer bullet lodges itself into the middle of her forehead, directly between her eyes. The skin surrounding it curls away from the electricity, seared black. Under the skin, blue lightning dances, covering her face in webs of light.

  If the bullet had hit anywhere else, Astrid would have recovered.

  Yet, there’s no recovery from a bullet to the head, even if it’s just a paralyzer bullet.

  I fall to my knees in front of her body and pull her down to the floor with me. Her body has turned to stone, frozen in a horrified position, forever watching the bullet close in on her.

  I did this. I brought him here.

  I have to fix this.

  Squeezing Astrid’s static body, I pry the gun from her hands and unwrap the rounds of ammunition from her waist. With practiced hands, I loop them around myself and tuck the pistol into my belt. Without looking back, I jog past the two Artificials. One more tunnel, and I’ll be with the Elders.

  The claw-like wound on my leg pulsates as I walk, leaving a trail of blood behind me. The knives had cut clean through the fabric of my jeans and tore through my thigh muscle like it was water. White bone shines through the four jagged gashes. I push the pain to the back of my mind, biting the inside of my cheek.

  Just like before, I crouch at the intersection and pull the gun flat against my chest as I peek around the corner. The mouth of the meeting place rises into view, but Artificials surround it. I count them in a whisper.

  Six.

  I check the clip of the rifle.

  My strategy from the last hallway isn’t going to work. If I shoot one of them, the other five will descend on me like lions. I need to lure at least one of them away from the meeting place. I can use its body like a shield to defend myself.

  I bring the rifle up and prop it against the bony surface of my shoulder. Unlike the pistol, this gun has serious kick. I brace myself and aim for the feet of the nearest Artificial.

  As I shoot, the gun digs into my shoulder and sends me staggering backwards a few steps. The gunshot rips through the tunnel but is soon replaced by a cacophony of machines. I scramble back to my position and leave the rifle on the ground to pull the pistol back out.

  One Artificial kneels down to inspect the dent left behind in the concrete from my shot. I’ve missed my target, but the effect remains the same. The Artificial says something to its troupe before turning and marching down the tunnel toward me.

  I jog back several steps and press myself up against the cold wall.

  When it strides into view, I’m ready, and the Artificial raises its weapon right as I fire.

  Like the other two machines before it, the head rolls off of the shoulders, hanging by a strand of multi-colored wires. With a shudder, its body crumbles to the ground. I lunge for it and hoist the weightless material in front of me as the paralyzer bullets pelt down upon us.

  The body of the Artificial absorbs the electricity like a sponge. Each bullet emits a low sizzle as the power fades out of it. Keeping my head safe behind its torso, I walk forward at a crawling pace and try to protect all of my other limbs.

  I peek out from under my shield’s arm and aim my pistol at the nearest Artificial. I fire, and its head lolls to one side, body falling to the ground moments later.

  Two more fall in the same fashion until I’m left facing two. As I watch, they switch weapons--a clear sign they’re shooting to kill.

  While the shell of the Artificial is bulletproof, if one of those metal bullets slip past it, I’m done. I hold my breath as I aim for one of the two remaining machines.

  As I release the trigger, so do they.

  My bullet hits its target, but theirs does as well.

  They must be smarter than I give them credit for, because the moment their bullet touches my shield, it is torn away from me. They had aimed for one side together, planning to knock it out of my hands.

  I stand motionless in the center of the tunnel and gape at the lone Artificial standing on the other end. We raise our weapons at the same time.

  Time slows as it filters through the space around us.

  I watch the mechanics in his body move. Numbers and symbols flit across his facial screen in endless loops. Sweat runs down the bridge of my nose, plastering my hair to my forehead and my shirt to my back. The warm hilt of the pistol digs into my palm.

  “Foolish little Mensch.”

  The voice that crushes the illusion between us sends my body into overdrive. Heart falling into my feet, I swing around toward the mouth of the meeting place, pulling the trigger with no regard as to where I’m aiming.

  The Artificial fires at the same time, and a sharp pain in my shoulder sends me tumbling backwards.

  “Hold your fire!” the cold voice barks, followed by a long string of the language of the machines.

  I press a shaking hand to my shoulder and wince as the fire spreads down my arm. Now isn’t the time to worry about a gunshot wound; a more pressing matter stands directly in front of me, looming over the bodies of fallen mechanical soldiers, his spotless black suit like a beacon among all of the white bodies.

  Eins takes two steps, crossing the short distance between us with a smile plastered on his face. His yellowing teeth juxtapose with his suit, and the red eye bears down on me.

  “Zwei will be so glad to see you,” he says as he grabs me by the elbow and jerks me forward. I wince, trembling against his hold. With every step, my shoulder burns. As my heart rate increases more blood cascades down my arm.

  “Zwei, I brought you a little gift,” Eins says in a sing-song voice as he pulls me into the meeting place.

  As I struggle against his hold, her familiar squeal finds me, and she prances across the room to grab my face in both of her hands.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” she says in a pitch so high it makes me cringe. “I thought I wouldn’t get to see you again!”

  I pull away from her grasp and stagger backwards. Eins still holds my arm, but he’s moving to empty my pockets with his other hand.

  As they work to disarm me, I look around the room.

  The five Elders have been tied to their chairs and gags cover their mouths. Each chest rises in rapid succession. A deep gash cuts across Emory’s forehead, and her head tilts forward weakly. Two seats away from her, Cyrus stares at me, panting around his gag. His wide eyes take me in, and as I watch, his face turns beet red. Anger forms in the canyons of his forehead, and he jerks wildly against the restraints.

  I want to tell him to calm down. If the machines don’t know which one he is, they might not target him.

  On the other side of the room, twenty more Luddites sit on the ground, hands tied behind their backs. They aren’t gagged, but none dare to speak. Their faces contrast white against the gray backdrop of concrete.

  I turn my head to the other side of the room and suck in a quick breath at the rows of bodies laying on the ground. The motionless shapes make up the rest of the Luddite population.

  I scan their figures for Linux’s lanky body and exhale I don’t see him.

  If anyone needs to survive this, it’s him.

  Eins grabs my chin with a firm hand and turns me to face him.

  “Lucky for you, we didn’t bring a cuff along with us,” he says, “but we expect you to cooperate. Every rule
you break is another bullet into your friends.”

  Zwei picks up my silver pistol and skips over to the row of living Luddites.

  “You do understand how wasteful it would be if we had to kill them,” Eins continues, leaning down to whisper in my ear. “So, you better play along. Understand?”

  I glare at him, nodding as my answer. He smiles, and the horrid smell of rotten meat rolls towards me.

  “That’s not how things work.”

  He snaps his fingers, and Zwei aims for the nearest Luddite, a twenty year-old named Venus. The girl lets out a fearful gasp and tries to scramble away from the woman. With a sigh, Zwei fires a single bullet into the girl’s skull, splattering blood on the other Luddites around them.

  Several begin to scream, but Zwei holds a pencil finger up to her lips. The symphony of fear fades into nothing more than whimpers and moans.

  “Understand now?” Eins asks, tilting my chin up to look at him.

  “Yes,” I say, my voice shaking.

  He snaps his fingers again, and I close my eyes as another Luddite falls to Zwei.

  “Yes, Master,” I correct, opening my eyes to look back at him.

  “Much better, Subject 23.”

  He lowers me to the ground and points at me as he straightens back up.

  “Move an inch, and she will fire again.”

  “Yes, Master,” I mumble, body trembling against the cold floor.

  “Good girl,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “You were very stupid to try and escape, you know. To think that you could get away from us.” He laughs. “Of course, we knew you would try.”

  Zwei picks up one man’s ponytail, eliciting a string of profanities from the man. She giggles and crouches down to poke at him with her fingers.

  “Well, we didn’t know you would try. Subject 3 did,” Zwei says, dancing from Luddite to Luddite and touching their flushed faces.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, flinching. I spoke out of turn. The shock doesn’t come, though.

  Zwei prances across the room but stops behind Cyrus. She rests her hands on his heaving shoulders before tracing his jawline with her hand. He jerks away from her in spitting rage and screams around the gag.

  “I like this one,” she says, giggling and running her hands through his hair. I set my face to indifference to swallow back my despair.