Oppression

by Jessica Therrien

  Still a little wary of her closeness, I set the knife down and reached forward, allowing her to pull my fingers back and expose the bare flesh of my palm.

  “If I let you in, you’ll see more than you may be ready for, but I suppose it’s for the best. You need to see why I’d choose to defy them.” She looked at me and pressed my hand to her forehead.

  I assumed I was about to experience her ability in reverse, but the transition was difficult to comprehend. Being inside her mind was like being in a dream. My thoughts were still present somewhere in the distance, but hers occupied the forefront of my consciousness. Images spilled past me in chaotic, jumbled spurts like a music video or a life-encompassing slide show set on fast-forward. Unfamiliar faces and places I’d never seen whirled about, unrecognized, and I felt for a moment as if I had amnesia.

  Try and remember, she advised.

  Remember what?

  Use my mind to remember what you want to know.

  As I tried to decipher my own intentions amidst the collection of her thoughts, an outside image of myself popped into view, pushing everything else aside. At first, I was watching from the driver’s seat of the black Lincoln that had followed me from the city. I saw things from her eyes as she closely observed me without my knowing. In the coffee shop, at home, on many occasions when I thought I’d been alone, she had been there.

  Each memory encompassed a whole range of feelings, thoughts, and emotions, none of which embodied the malice I had expected from her. Instead, she watched me with curiosity and bitter resentment for the task she had been given—to report everything she knew about me to The Council.

  There was jealousy for the freedom I had, for William, and confusion as she wondered why I would die for a human, let alone one who had lived so many years. Then there was hate, not for me, but for The Council. I found myself interested in what could conjure up such hate and chose to seek out the origin of her anger.

  Once I’d reached the core of the emotion, I was peering out from her twelve-year-old eyes at two loving parents and a little sister clinging to each other in overwhelming sadness as she was being ripped from their lives.

  The hatred continued to blacken with each mission assigned to her. The memories became brutal and violent as they progressed. Murders, experiments, torture. She had seen unimaginable things. The flickering photos of her mind stopped to focus in on one singularly disturbing instance.

  She was in someone’s apartment, and it was just turning dark out. A man stood tall and brutish, blocking my view of the woman on the couch. I knew from her recollection that this man was what they called a Hunter. She had been allocated as his lookout as she was often assigned to do, given her unique ability to access the mind. If the Hunter needed help extracting information, of course she would be required to assist, but Hunters were usually sent for one reason—to kill.

  I noticed that she kept clear of the woman’s mind, opting to stay out of it, and I searched for the reason. Then it hit me, a sense of dread that nearly made my knees buckle—she didn’t want to know the fear that was to stand before a Hunter.

  “Kara, go check the rooms,” the Hunter grunted.

  “All right,” she said, glad to escape the horrific scene that was sure to take place.

  I wanted to know what would come of the faceless woman, but her eyes only provided me a view that led away from them. She turned the corner to the sound of the woman’s muffled scream, and didn’t look back.

  Checking rooms was an easy task that usually provided refuge from the horrors at play. Hunters knew their victims well and picked times when they were sure to be alone. Not once in ten years as a lookout had she ever met an unexpected human, but I could feel the anticipation of what was to come, and I knew this was what she wanted me to see.

  The apartment seemed completely deserted as she assumed it would be. All the lights were off, and aside from the continued agonizing moans of the poor woman, there was nothing but dead silence. Even after years of bearing witness to these sorts of atrocities, her stomach still felt like it was full of rocks. Sweat beaded across her forehead as she became sick in the toilet of the guest bathroom, the last unchecked room. I watched her retch, feeling the climax of the memory growing nearer. Then I saw it, a small bare foot, visible just outside the coverage of the shower curtain. My heart nearly stopped with hers as she digested the image. Hunters left no survivors.

  Hello, she whispered, although the words were unspoken. I won’t hurt you, but you have to be very quiet or he’ll hear you.

  As she peered around the curtain, she was taken aback. The child was so young, a little girl of only four or five. The girl recoiled slightly out of fear. Her wide eyes were a soft brown that oddly resembled the little sister of her memory, and although they were wet with tears, she stayed quiet.

  The woman’s faded cries had ceased, which meant he’d be wrapping up. She didn’t have a lot of time. He’d come looking for her.

  Listen, the child’s teary eyes made her ache with sympathy. I’ll be back for you, okay? Don’t worry.

  And with that she pulled herself together to face the Hunter.

  “What took you so long?” he barked as she re-entered the living room.

  She put on a gruff face and stepped back into her “bad guy” role. One thing she had learned from the beginning was that in this business, there was no room for weakness, no time for tears, and no reason to be civil. The only way to survive was to be somebody you weren’t, to slip into an alternate identity that was strong enough to handle it all.

  “What? You gotta get home to paint your nails or something? I was looking for money, what do you think?” Her voice came out harsh and cold.

  “Find any?” But before she could answer, the man’s eyes averted. “Lookie here,” he grunted, and I felt the hairs on Kara’s neck stand up. She turned around just in time to see the bullet hit the little girl right between the eyes.

  ***

  Anna didn’t move when I entered the room. She lay still and peaceful, for the moment, escaping the pain. A part of me began to worry as I watched her, and my stomach flinched with fear. I prayed she was still holding on. I sighed with relief as I saw the subtle staggering breath that fought with her slowly rising chest. I wasn’t too late.

  I sat down beside her, taking her hand while Kara waited just outside the door. Anna’s eyes parted briefly, and her breath deepened as she began to feel my comfort. Everything would be all right.

  “People don’t understand,” I confessed in a low voice. “What you mean to me will never be understood by anyone other than us, but I don’t need it to be. We know.”

  I lifted myself off of her bed, and took the knife from the bedside table. There was nothing left to say really, only one last sweet intake of breath before I cut deep into my flesh. The cherry-red blood glistened with vivid pigment against my skin, painting bright crimson patterns on the surface of my hand. It dripped from my fingertips onto the dull colored carpet, each drop a hidden ruby in the sand. The pain was clouded, washed up in the pure shock of it all. It was only a side effect, an afterthought in all that mattered to me in that moment.

  Come on, Elyse, Kara coaxed gently as she stepped inside the room, and I moved my wrist to Anna’s mouth.

  I felt compelled to fulfill my purpose and unafraid to follow through. Maybe I was put on earth for this one deed, this one moment, and everything else was just a collection of stepping-stones that led me here. Whatever the case, there was no going back, not now. All that was left was the mystery of what was to come of me, and the prophecy. I felt almost certain it was working as the blood left my body and flowed into her mouth. At first she tried to resist, confused by what was happening, but when she realized it was saving her, she became desperate for it, grabbing hold of my arm with wide eyes.

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Kara said out loud so Anna could hear. “Give me the knife, Elyse.”

  “No,” I said forcefully through the fog. “Just a little more.”
>
  “Well, at least give me the knife.”

  I heard Kara wince as she made a smaller incision on her own wrist. “Are you done, I—”

  As her words cut out, I felt my body freeze. The sensation was all too familiar, and I knew we were in trouble. I stared into Anna’s terrified eyes and noticed she was frozen as well, lips still locked around my wrist.

  “I told you I’d find a way to get to you,” Ryder sneered. “They can’t pin it on me if you voluntarily bleed to death.”

  I couldn’t turn my head to see him, but I heard the crack of his fist against Kara’s jaw. “What a deceitful little brat you turned out to be. Was it worth it? For a human?”

  Anna and I were only able to listen to her guttural moans, as another blow forced all the air out of her lungs. I hated him. My mind was screaming, desperate to make my body move, but it wouldn’t. Would he kill her? Kill Anna? I was helpless, and as more blood left my body, I was running out of time.

  “There are always consequences,” Ryder bellowed. Kara’s bloody face came into view and smashed against the floor.

  Then it all began to fade, and my existence came tumbling in around me like the heavy night sky, crushing me between itself and the floor of the earth. My senses grew weak and blurred together in a fog. The sound of Kara’s beating dissipated, and I was lost in a place of shock that left me unaware of what was happening around me. Time was a foreign thing. I had no concept of how long it had been. Had it taken minutes, hours, or even days for me to die? There was no way to tell.

  Life. A labyrinth of crossroads and blind turns that you’re never really intended to find your way through. Full of defining moments and significant landmarks that could at any time take you by surprise, turning your whole world upside-down. Whether I’d lost my sight or control of my consciousness was unclear, but it didn’t matter, soon it would be over, and so I let go of my last ounce of strength and waited for the end. Then, nothing. The blackness carried me away, and I lost touch with where I was, who I was, what I was waiting for.

  Nothing.

  28.

  TIME TRICKLED ON like spilled water, slowly and in all directions, so when I felt myself moving, weightless in the world around me, I couldn’t guess how long it had been since I was last conscious. But was I conscious? The dizzy, numbing weakness that had me whirling told me yes. Whether in life or in death, or maybe somewhere in between was uncertain, but I was aware of my body and its distress. I had not left it. My mind was still imprisoned by its solid form, registering the agony of its complete inability to function. I was unresponsive, only able to process pain, confusion, and the sound of quick, uneven steps that belonged to somebody else. Then, through the haze of my broken and disjointed thoughts, I realized I was being carried.

  Each breath that dragged in and out of my lungs was a struggle as I instinctively began to panic. Where was I? Where was Anna? I couldn’t remember what had happened. Did it work? The footsteps quickened to a run, reacting to my panicked breath, sending blinding pain through me with each jolt forward. I wanted to open my eyes, to beg them to stop, but instead, it became too much. Darkness, soothing and peaceful, took me in once again.

  ***

  Waking from the blackness was sharp and abrasive. The light seeped in like fire, shattering its coddling tranquility. All I could see was white. I didn’t understand why I fought against it. Light was good. Light was the other side. It was hope, and though my eyes ached from it, I forced them to open and stare into the source.

  Fear pinned me down and stole my breath as my surroundings came into focus. Goosebumps crawled up my arms and legs as my skin recognized the cold sting of the metal table I was stretched out on, or maybe it was just the fear that sank in when I realized where I was. Three lights hung like still pendulums above my head. To the right was a blacktop counter covered in beakers and chemical solutions that had been left to process. I was in a lab.

  As my senses returned, I noticed that the only real discomfort I felt was the IV plugged into the crook of my arm. Remembering the deep incision I had made into my right wrist, I checked for the wound, but there was nothing but my bracelet. Not even a scar. My first instinct was to tear out the IV and make a run for it. There were no windows, but maybe I could sneak out the door, assuming there weren’t any guards. I still felt the need to escape, despite the fact that I was healed and apparently alive. I had no way of knowing the intentions of whoever had me here, but before I had the chance, I was interrupted.

  The sound of a squeaky door opening stopped the blood in my veins, and I slammed my eyes shut. The click of hard heels came closer. Nothing was spoken, but I could tell it was a man. He hummed aloud as he busied himself with the beakers, pouring one liquid into another. Then, without warning, he turned his focus on me. His fingers found the pulse in my neck and ran the length of the invisible scar that should have been an open wound on my arm. A cottonball was pressed against the inside of my elbow as the IV was removed. He was surprisingly gentle, but I still cringed internally at his touch. What did he plan to do with me? Before I had time to consider my next move, the door creaked again.

  “She’s awake,” said the man standing over me. My ears perked at his familiar voice—Iosif.

  “Finally,” I heard William say. Had I imagined him? My eyes acted before I had time to contemplate it. I had to know. They snapped open and found his face, laden with worry. To think that I was never going to see him again, never going to feel his touch or hear his voice, seemed unimaginable. He was as essential to my being as air and water.

  He was beside me before I had a chance to speak, lacing his fingers through mine and reaching for my face.

  “William, I’m so sorry,” I said sitting up, feeling the need to explain.

  “Whoa whoa whoa,” he said lying me immediately back down. “Take it easy. You’ve been through a lot, Ellie.”

  His sad eyes showed so much hurt, and I felt it ten times over for causing it, but I couldn’t say I regretted my choice. It was a painful one, but Anna would live a long and healthy life now, and that meant the world to me. I wondered how she was, where they were, and finally realized I had no idea how any of this had played out. How did I get here? Why was I with William? How was I alive?

  “Anna and Kara?” I asked, preparing myself for any answer. “Are they alive?”

  He nodded with a comforting smile. “Yes. They’re together, but I had to bring you here,” he answered with tender eyes.

  “How did you find me?” I asked, hoping to pick up on where he had come into the picture.

  “When I woke up, you were gone. Your note helped me put the pieces together. I knew it had to do with Anna. The day you mentioned having to heal her, I knew there was more to it. I remembered her address was on your refrigerator.”

  “I couldn’t have told you, you . . .”

  He nodded in agreement. “I would have tried to stop you,” he admitted.

  I sighed, thankful he understood.

  “When I got there,” he continued, “the door was wide open, and I heard noises upstairs. I almost went right up, but I heard Kara in my head. She told me Ryder was there, and that he was going to kill all of you. So, I tried to be as quiet as I could, grabbed a knife from the kitchen, and surprised him from behind. I stabbed him in the back, straight in the heart before he could freeze me.” It seemed hard for him to explain, and I could tell that reliving it was difficult.

  I couldn’t believe all of it had happened while I was unconscious.

  “So, he’s dead?” I asked. It was hard to picture William killing someone, even if it was Ryder.

  “Yes,” he answered, “very dead.”

  The thought was such a relief. “Thank you.” The words seemed so inconsequential. He couldn’t imagine how my heart overflowed with gratitude for saving us.

  “When I saw you, I thought you were dead,” he said, remembering.

  The walls of my heart fell in at the thought of him finding me that way. How he must have fe
lt, what he must have thought of me.

  “I’m sorry,” I choked, falling into his arms. “I had to.”

  “I know,” he whispered, holding me as long as I wanted him to. When I pulled away, he knew it was because I wanted him to continue.

  “You lost so much blood. I don’t know how you survived, Elyse,” he trailed off in disbelief.

  “Her body has an amazing ability. It can withstand a loss far beyond the normal capacity.” Iosif spoke for the first time since I’d opened my eyes. I wondered why he had stayed to watch William and I reunite, but something told me he played a large part in my survival, so I was nothing but thankful for him. “Even so,” he continued, “I would say it was amazing you survived, but we all knew you would. There was never any question of that. Your sacrifice set things in motion. Now it’s only a matter of time.”

  His prophetic talk always threw me off a bit. I never knew what I should take to heart and what I should disregard as babble, but Iosif had been right all along. He’d told me whatever path I chose would lead me where I needed to be. With Anna cured, Kara protecting her and Chloe, and Ryder dead, it seemed to be exactly where I needed to be.

  “You survived because you were meant to,” he concluded with finality. “To fulfill the prophecy.”

  “And because I’m your cure,” William added, holding up his arm. A cotton ball was taped over the inside of his elbow. “I want a little of the credit.”

  “You healed me?” I asked, touched by the thought of it.

  “Well, once we got you here, Iosif and my dad donated too. You lost a lot.”

  I moved to sit up, this time slow and easy so they’d let me stay that way.

  “Kara said she was planning on healing you, but she was beat up pretty badly, so I cut my hand and gave you a little of mine. You regained consciousness for a second. You said ‘funny how trees are people too, huh.’” He laughed a little as he recollected, now that I was okay. “Adorable, even when you’re dying.”

  I took a moment to smile. His laughter meant he had forgiven me. Something I had toiled over up until the moment I thought was my last.