The Alpha Drive

by Kristen Martin

  Her mouth went dry as her microchip began to buzz, causing the hairs on her neck to rise. This was all too familiar. She’d had this exact same feeling when she’d gone out with Rhea on Alpha Drive, right before . . .

  Right before she’d met Torin.

  It’s him, she thought through her haze. Torin’s trying to reach out to me. Her chip continued to buzz as she lay there on the floor. “I’m here,” she croaked, her vision fading in and out. “Torin, I’m here.”

  Another excruciating five minutes went by until the buzzing started to subside. Emery opened her eyes, her vision restoring itself back to normal. Feeling stable enough to stand, she grasped the edge of the sink and pulled herself up, then rinsed her mouth with water. I need to eat something.

  Emery pulled open the door to the bathroom, then headed to the kitchen to scrounge for food. Mason’s dorm was much quieter than it had been twenty minutes prior. Emery stumbled through the deserted living room into the kitchen, pulling a bag of chips from the pantry. They crunched as she popped them into her month. Sensing that someone was watching her, she whirled around.

  Mason stood directly in front of her. “Hungry?”

  Emery swallowed the remnants before answering. “Yeah, I sort of . . . raided your pantry.”

  He grinned. “My bad. I should have ordered a pizza or at least put out some chips.” He shook his head. “I’m a terrible host.”

  She smiled, feeling innately comfortable in his presence. “So, where did everyone go?”

  He tilted his head. “They left,” he answered as he made his way into the living room and plopped down onto the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. He patted the seat next to him, so Emery followed, leaning her head back into the cushy, leather seat.

  “Are you okay?” Mason asked.

  Emery turned to look at him. “Yeah, why do you ask?”

  Mason blushed. “I noticed that you disappeared for a little there. I hope we didn’t bore you too much.”

  “Oh, that’s not it at all,” she laughed. “I actually had a lot of fun. Thanks for inviting me.” She paused, not sure whether to tell him about what had just happened. “Hey, do you remember that first night when . . . well, when you helped get me back to my dorm?”

  Mason nodded. “I remember it well. Why?”

  “Well, I just had something similar happen, so if I seem a little out of it, that’s why.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his forehead wrinkling with concern. “You were basically unconscious that night, so I need you to tell me if you start to feel like that again.”

  Emery waved her hand dismissively. “No, I’m okay. I’m pretty sure it’s passed.”

  “Well, only if you’re sure,” he said with a smile. “Hey, I’m going to clean up a little.”

  “I’ll help,” she offered.

  Mason tossed her a trash bag as Emery cleared the coffee table of remaining debris in one fell swoop, the cans and cups sliding into the oversized bag. She bent down to pick up some more cans from the floor, but as she stood up, the room began to spin around her. Not again.

  Small black dots reappeared, her ears ringing with an unpleasant tone. She frantically searched for Mason, but he’d left the room, so she stumbled into the nearest bedroom and collapsed onto a bed. Floating in and out of consciousness, she laid there, hoping that he would stumble in on her sooner rather than later.

  29

  Mason heard a thunk as he tossed the last of the trash into the overflowing garbage bag. Gently setting the bag against the couch, he strolled over to the source of the noise, finding himself standing in the doorway to his bedroom. There was Emery, lying face up in what appeared to be a very uncomfortable position, knees bent over the bedframe, her head turned to the side as if she’d hit it against the wall on the way down. He rushed to her side and kneeled onto the carpet, grabbing her wrist to check for a pulse.

  “She’s still breathing,” he muttered to himself. Trying to ignore the feeling of déjà vu on Alpha Drive earlier that year, he did the first thing that came to his mind and darted to the bathroom, pulling a washcloth from the overhead cabinet. He ran the washcloth under cool water, folding it into a rectangular shape on the way back to the bedroom.

  Mason moved her hair to the side and laid the washcloth on her forehead, checking to make sure she was still breathing. He watched her chest move slowly up and down, her mouth exhaling small wisps of air.

  Ten minutes later, her eyes fluttered open, a pool of grey staring up at him. He could tell she was trying to focus, so he sat back a little to allow her eyes to adjust.

  “Whoa,” she breathed as she slowly brought herself upright. “How long was I out for?”

  “Not too long, I don’t think. I came as soon as I heard the noise. It sounded like you fell.”

  Emery looked over her shoulder, observing her surroundings as if she’d never been there before. “At least I fell on the bed,” she cracked, trying to make light of the situation.

  “Do you want water or food or anything? Do you feel nauseous?” He bit his tongue. ‘Atta boy, bombard her with questions.

  Emery smiled gratefully. “I actually feel fine. I just think I need to rest.”

  Mason took a moment to really look at her. Her hair was disheveled and tangled. Drops of sweat lingered along her hairline. And her mascara was smudged underneath her eyes. Even so, she was still beautiful.

  As he drew closer to her, he could feel her warm breath on his face, her eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. Before he could process what was happening, he found himself in a passionate embrace, her lips locked tightly with his.

  Mason slid his fingers through her hair, not once breaking contact with her soft, supple lips. As if their bodies were one, they laid down on the bed, heads resting gently against the pillow. She broke away for a moment, looked at him, and smiled. He smiled back and lightly kissed her on the forehead.

  A soft exhale escaped her lips as she moved closer to him, her legs intertwined with his, head resting in the nook between his chest and shoulder. They laid there in silence for a few minutes. Mason watched as her chest rose and fell ever so calmly. He fought to stay awake, the sweet smell of lavender consuming his senses, until his eyelids felt so heavy that they closed, where he could finally surrender to this perfect moment.

  30

  The sound of birds chirping outside wasn’t the worst way to wake up. A strip of sunlight shone brightly against Emery’s eyelids. She rustled the covers over her face and pressed her ear against the pillow in order to block the incessant piping from outside. As she reached to put her hand under the pillow, she realized that the sheets felt unfamiliar.

  Emery shot up immediately, the pendant bouncing on her chest. Feeling alarmed, she wrapped the sheet around herself, even though she was fully dressed. She blinked rapidly, hoping that her contacts would shift back into place. Her nerves calmed as she browsed her surroundings, the events from last night flooding back to her. I’m at Mason’s.

  She walked into the dark kitchen, noticing that the door to the bathroom was open, but Mason was nowhere in sight. A bout of nausea hit her as she opened the refrigerator. One last water bottle was tucked into a small crevice in the very back. She grabbed it and took a giant gulp, her hand resting on a wrinkled piece of paper on the counter. The handwriting was barely legible, but she could manage to make out what it said: Come to 6E when you wake up.

  After brushing her teeth with her finger, Emery grabbed one of Mason’s jackets from his closet and trekked upstairs to room 6E. The door was ajar, a dank, musty smell coming from inside. Before entering, she paused to get her thoughts in order.

  I kissed Mason.

  While Emery was familiar with friend Mason, more-than-friend Mason was completely new territory.

  A sensory overload of moldy pizza hit her as she entered the apartment. Her hand flew over her nose immediately as she made her way through the living room. There was Mason, sitting on a bean bag,
grumbling at the TV and beating his video game controller to death. More video games? There were two other guys in the room, although she couldn’t distinguish whether or not she’d met them the night before.

  Well, this is awkward.

  She waved. “Good morning.”

  Mason diverted his attention from the car crash on the screen. “Morning,” he chirped, gesturing to the empty seat beside him. “I see you found my jacket.”

  Emery blushed and made her way over to the empty seat next to him. Mason leaned back into the bean bag, a yawn escaping from his mouth. She knew she shouldn’t feel uncomfortable, but for some reason, she did. Didn’t he want to talk about last night? She gave him a weak smile, then asked, “Do you want to get breakfast?”

  Mason’s eyes lit up as he dropped the controller. “You read my mind. I’m starving.”

  + + +

  It was the last day of Spring Break and Emery couldn’t believe everything that had happened. Her friendship with Mason was blossoming into something more, and at a frightening speed. They’d spent almost every day together—going out to dinner, seeing movies, and even attending their first concert together. Each rendezvous had been better than the last. As much as she tried to suppress her feelings for him, she couldn’t deny that they were growing with each passing day.

  But she knew that this was dangerous territory.

  Emery couldn’t help but feel like she was betraying Rhea. Even though Rhea had made it abundantly clear that she wasn’t looking for anything serious, Mason still felt somewhat off-limits. Yet here she was, hanging out with him, wanting to spending time with him, falling for him.

  Rhea appeared as the door creaked open, her purse overflowing with magazines, water bottles, and partially opened pretzel bags. Emery rushed from her desk to help her, propping her foot against the door. Rhea scuffled inside and dropped her enormous bag on the floor, her suitcase waddling crookedly behind her. She grunted as she fell into her desk chair and pulled out her phone without even so much as a glance at Emery.

  Emery cleared her throat. “Hey, you’re back. How was your break?”

  “It was fine,” Rhea responded, eyes still glued to her phone.

  Emery shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Oh, that’s good. I thought you wouldn’t be back until later tonight. I would have picked you up.”

  “It’s fine.”

  Why is she being so short with me? “If you don’t mind me asking, who picked you up from the airport?”

  Rhea looked up at her with an annoyed expression. “I took a cab.”

  She sounds bitter. “You should have called me.”

  Silence.

  It was clear that Rhea wanted to be left alone, but that was nearly impossible to do when they lived together in such a small space.

  After a few minutes, Rhea finally broke the silence. “Actually, Mason was supposed to come get me, but he told me he was busy.” Her eyes hardened as she scowled.

  “With you.”

  Emery froze in position, speechless.

  “So,” Rhea said as she crossed her arms, “is there something you’d like to tell me?”

  31

  Emery and Mason sat in silence across from each other at the Dorsey Hall café. After spilling to Rhea, Emery immediately called Mason.

  “So, Rhea’s mad. I mean, really mad,” Emery sighed. “She says that I took you from her.”

  Mason shook his head, his finger tracing the crooked lines on the wooden tabletop. “No one took anything from anybody,” he reassured, even though his own voice was lined with guilt.

  “Rhea said that I betrayed her and that friends don’t betray each other.” She shrugged. “So, in her mind, I guess that means we’re not friends anymore.”

  “I’ve known Rhea for years. She’ll come around. It’s just the sting of a new relation—err—whatever this is,” he stuttered, looking down at his hands.

  Emery hesitated, not sure what to say. What are we? Friends? More than friends?

  Mason reached out, taking both of Emery’s hands into his. They were warm and inviting, his skin smooth and uncalloused. “Listen, I like you and I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I want to make this work.” He took a deep breath. “Emery Parker, will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

  Images of Anthony and her failed relationship immediately flooded Emery’s mind, whirling her into a state of panic. She flashed back to when Anthony had first asked her to be his girlfriend. Every year at her public school, the dance department held a fall concert. After practice one day, when they were both in the trainer’s room, she’d invited him. “I’ll be there,” he’d said. But Emery hadn’t taken his promise to heart. She’d learned a long time ago that having high expectations meant constantly being disappointed. But Anthony had shown up. At the end of the evening, he’d walked her outside and told her to close her eyes. When she opened them, two dozen vibrant, red roses stared her in the face.

  “Will you be my girlfriend?” he’d asked.

  The memory faded as Emery looked at Mason. All she could envision was the look on Anthony’s face—the look when he’d stared her square in the eye and hadn’t recognized her. A one-year relationship wiped from the mind of the one person who’d known her on an intimate level. It was almost as if she had a clean slate.

  The only problem is I didn’t ask for one.

  Emery knew that the time for grieving was over. In order to move forward, she had to move past Anthony. But it terrified her knowing that Mason could, at any moment, see the chip and fail to remember her. Or that she could be deployed at any second without warning. Was it worth the risk?

  Emery pulled her hands to her lap and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mason. I really like you, but I’m just not ready. After everything that happened with Anthony . . . it’s still so fresh—”

  “Of course,” Mason interrupted. “I’m sorry. It was a stupid question.”

  Emery grimaced. “It wasn’t a stupid question at all. I’m flattered. Really, I am.”

  Mason let out a nervous laugh. “Let’s just forget about it. Still friends?”

  “Yes,” Emery nodded. “Still friends.”

  Mason gave a half smile, then glanced down at his watch to check the time. “So, do friends still go to the movies together?”

  Emery’s heart fluttered. She’d just shot him down, yet here he was, being a complete gentleman. It made her like him even more. “They certainly do.”

  Mason scooted back his chair and picked up their coffee cups. As he walked to the trashcan, Emery couldn’t help but notice how his shoulders slumped. She felt terrible, but throwing herself into a new relationship at a time like this wasn’t the answer. It’s for the best, she told herself as she followed him out the door.

  But try as she might, her heart just wouldn’t agree.

  32

  There was no denying it. Rhea was a wildcard. How do I take out a wildcard? Theo thought as he slid his chair over to the control station.

  A few options sprang to mind. He could go the vindictive route and have an Alpha Drive participant turn on Rhea. Or he could go the easy route and inject something into her bloodstream via her microchip. Or both.

  Decisions, decisions.

  Theo rummaged through the drawers of the main station, searching for any remaining syringes of lethargum. While its main use was to render subjects unconscious, at a high enough dose rate, lethargum was lethal. As much as he didn’t want to kill Rhea, Theo didn’t dare disobey the President’s orders, or else his head would be next on the chopping block.

  To his delight, he found a syringe filled with the bright green liquid tucked in the very back of the cabinet. He readied the syringe as he pulled up Rhea’s file, injecting the serum into the machine.

  An unexpected reflection appeared on the holoscreen. Naia stood behind him with crossed arms, a disappointed look on her face. “What do you think you’re doing?” she questioned as she took a step closer.

  “Tha
t’s really none of your concern,” Theo responded, hiding the syringe from sight.

  Naia tilted her head as she surveyed the file on screen. “I see you’re interested in participant 083, Ms. Rhea Alexander.” She gave a wry smile. “And seeing as I run the training simulations around here, yes, I do think it is of my concern.”

  Theo gritted his teeth. “I will only say this one time. You need to leave.”

  Naia shook her head with a soft chuckle. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.”

  Theo stood from his chair. “You can’t get involved. President’s orders,” he lied.

  Naia narrowed her eyes as her mouth pressed into a firm line. “We’ll see about that.” She turned on her heel to leave, then stopped to face him again. “Oh, and Theo? Don’t do anything stupid.”

  Theo watched Naia as she stormed out of the room, the empty syringe sitting idly on the seat of his chair.

  Too late.

  33

  I’ve had enough, Emery thought as she looked over at her roommate. Rhea sat at her desk with her head thrown back, music blaring from her headphones. They’d hardly spoken in days and the tension between them was only getting worse.

  It was time to put her foot down.

  Emery waved her hand across Rhea’s line of vision, watching as her roommate popped the neon-pink buds from her ears.

  “What?” she barked.

  “I know you’re still upset with me, and you have every right to be,” Emery paused, “but enough is enough.”