Through Glass

by Rebecca Ethington

  I couldn’t accept that.

  “It would still be me,” I said, the hard lines of my voice rising as my anger pulsed.

  Travis looked at me, the fear in his eyes mirroring my anger, the strength of it taking my breath away. I wanted to say he agreed with me, but I wasn’t sure. He shook his head before looking down to the ground, his whole body sagging in anguish as it had so long ago.

  I fought the need to yell at him, or to fight with him. It wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t change anything. He wasn’t in charge as much as I wasn’t. We were both at others’ mercy.

  I slowed my breathing, matching the tempo to his as I tried to calm myself. I tried to convince myself not to fight him and let my logical thinking slink through me.

  “What do you hope will happen?” I asked, my voice soft as I tried to hide the last of the anger and fear that was trying to take over me.

  “You won’t change unless they make you bleed out, Alexis,” he whispered, his head lifting to meet mine. “You could stay here. We could keep you safe—”

  “Here?” I asked, my voice cutting him off. “You mean in here?”

  “Yes.” He continued to whisper and I had the distinct impression that he was trying to keep others from our conversation.

  “Trapped in a cement box?” I asked, careful to keep my voice as low as his, even though my panic was trying to raise it. “Like a forgotten pet?”

  “Not forgotten, alive,” he pleaded, his hands pressing into mine as he pulled me closer to him.

  “I don’t want that, Travis. I would rather leave.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want to go, back out into the darkness,” I whispered into the grey walls around us, the lone light bulb.

  Part of me knew it was a foolish decision, but right then, I didn’t care. It was obvious that they would rather kill me than let me stay and staying trapped in here wasn’t an option for me.

  “You can’t mean that,” he hissed, his hands releasing mine as he pushed me away, obviously disgusted with my choice.

  “Stay in a box or be experimented on?” I asked, my voice rising as my anger swelled again. “I think I’ll take the darkness.”

  “That’s no life, Lex.” His eyes pleaded with me, the dark brown orbs digging into me as he begged. I barely saw it. I could barely feel his desperate need to keep me safe over my anger, my fear.

  “And living here would be?” I spat.

  “You would have me.”

  I stopped. Everything inside of me turning to ice, my anger freezing in place. Would I have him? Cohen had said the same thing, but I never had him, either. I had only had an image of him. Never him. It would be the same thing here. Alone, but not. Just like with Cohen.

  “They took Cohen, Travis,” I whispered. He jumped, his eyes widening. I tried to ignore his reaction and continued on, needing him to hear, to understand even this little bit of what had happened to me, why I couldn’t stay here. “After years of being alone, of only getting to talk to him through the glass of our bedroom windows, they took him. They came to kill me and he saved me. They tried to kill him and he lived. They took him.”

  “Lex… I’m so sorry.”

  “It would be the same thing here, Travis,” I said as I looked down to where his hands pressed against his knees. Hands that didn’t belong to my fourteen-year-old brother—hands that belonged to a man—a man who had fought and killed for eight long years. “I would be trapped behind glass, alone, but not. I don’t want that life, not anymore.”

  “You can’t leave, Alexis.” He was begging, but I didn’t care, not anymore. I let his pleads wash over me like rain water, cold and then forgotten.

  “That girl, Bridget, she said the Tar turn the ones that they take. She said they experiment on them and then they turn them. Is it true?”

  “Yeah.” His voice was hesitant and I knew at once. He had probably figured out where I was going long before I had.

  “Just like you would do to me, when I turn?”

  “Yeah.” I barely heard him. I could tell the truth of what I was telling him was hitting harder than I expected.

  “I want to save him.”

  “You can’t, Alexis,” he said, his voice a narrow line as he pulled me back into him. His arms wrapped around me, like his embrace alone would be enough to keep me here.

  “I can; saving doesn’t always mean rescue. They sent Sarah to me—to kill me—and I killed her. They will send Cohen to me, too, and then I can save him. I can set him free.”

  I looked toward the wall, knowing there was something beyond them, a way out, a chance to get out. I stared at the wall, knowing I needed to find a way beyond the stone.

  I guess in one way, I was right. Travis was my weapon. If only to escape this place.

  “Lex…”

  “I can’t stay here, Travis.”

  “I know,” he sighed and I had a feeling he knew that all along. Not that I wouldn’t be able to stay here, but that they wouldn’t let me live.

  “You can’t let them kill me.”

  “I won’t let them.”

  “I guess that’s something,” I said into his shoulder, my body sinking into him as I found the comfort I had forgotten I had been missing.

  They put me in shackles before they led me toward the people who I was sure had already decided upon my death.

  It had only been a few minutes after Abran had left that he’d returned, the shackles in his hands as he announced a verdict to be met.

  The heavy metal rings hung heavily over my emaciated wrists, the metal loose enough that I could probably squeeze through them if I tried. I wasn’t even sure where they had found them. The weird metal rings looked more archaic than modern, and even in the destroyed darkness of our current world, they seemed medieval. Instead of a single ring on each wrist, there were two, floating opposite of each other, the gap between them making it look like something should be slid between them.

  I was led down the brightly lit hallway of whatever prison I had been enclosed in. I hadn’t seen a light this bright since the darkness came. It was brighter than the fire that had been my sanctuary only days before. The brightness of the light seeped into my skull and burned my retinas so I kept my eyes closed, relying on Travis’s hands to guide me down the halls. I wanted to announce that I wasn’t turning to ash in the light—that I was still safe—but I had a feeling that no one would care.

  His hand was hard against my arm, they wrapped around me in obvious fear that someone may simply swoop in and rip me away from him. Judging by what he had said to me earlier, I knew it was probable.

  I snuck another peek at the white hallway before I closed my eyes again, the bright light shooting pain into my already throbbing skull.

  I dragged one foot in front of the other as my muscles throbbed and pulsed. The stressful strain of my chest only making the pain worse.

  Travis’s hand tightened around my arm and everything inside of me followed suit. We were getting close. I listened to the hollow click of everyone’s footsteps as we moved from one hallway into another, the whisper of hundreds of angry voices began to filter down to us, the intensity growing the closer to them that we moved.

  The sound of the crowd was the angry whisperings of a mob. The hissing sounds sunk into me like a predator preparing to sink its teeth into its prey. The muscles in my back knit together in stress as I heard them, the sound now echoing in my ears so loudly that I couldn’t hear the tap of our shoes against the floor.

  I wanted to run—turn tail and flee—but I had seen the bright green guns being carried by the men who escorted us, they wouldn’t let me get so far as two steps past them. Unless, of course, Travis stopped them, which I had no doubt he would try. Even then, I couldn’t let him die for me.

  I wasn’t that far gone. As much as they thought me a monster, I knew that I was not.

  So, I continued forward, unwillingly forward, to the crowd that would decide if I was to become a science experiment or plant f
ood.

  I exhaled shakily, trying to get some of my stress to dissipate. Travis’s arms snaked around my back as he pulled me to him, his intent to keep me safe obvious.

  We must be there.

  I opened my eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the thankfully dimmer light as we walked into a cavernous room.

  We had walked onto the floor of a large room, the rectangular floor surrounded by levels of carpeted risers, each one crammed with hundreds of angry, disheveled people. They began to yell and throw things the moment I was led into the space.

  The noise level continued to increase the further I was led into the room; men, women and children screaming at me like I had mass murdered the world all on my own. I watched them, wide-eyed, as object after object was thrown in my direction. Travis stepped in front of me in his attempt to keep them from hitting me.

  Suddenly, Abran’s hatred of me from before made sense. It wasn’t just him, it was everyone. Everyone hated me. The knowledge reawakened that cold fear that I had been trying so hard to keep at bay, it trickled through me and I shrunk into myself, my jaw squaring as I tried not to let the fear turn into anger. I could already feel it growing inside of me, trying to break free.

  No, now was not the time.

  I looked away from the angry crowd to the filtered light that flowed through the massive glass ceiling above us, where I assumed hundreds of stadium lights filled the sky with light, keeping these people safe. I wished they would shine the light on me, I would step out into it and show everyone here that I wasn’t dangerous. That I was still human.

  Even if only for a little while longer.

  I knew that wouldn’t work, stepping into the light. After all, I hadn’t turned into ash with the light that I had walked through or from the light that filtered over everything, but they didn’t seem to care. They were content to take their anger and pain and loss out on one person. Someone who was practically human. I am not sure I could fault them for that.

  Because they saw me as a monster. As much as I distrusted Abran and as little as I knew Bridget, I knew they were right. I wasn’t who I was all those years ago. I was changing. I just wasn’t sure I was changing the way they meant.

  I looked at the ceiling as Travis led me to a lone chair in the middle of the open floor. The metal chair was full of scuffs and small dents, as if they had dug it out of a dumpster. I would have assumed that was exactly what they had done, but the floor looked the same. Large holes pockmarked the space around it and small, faded green stains littered over the linoleum, as though someone had tried to clean something that just wouldn’t come out.

  I stared at the chair as Travis led me toward it, sure I was missing something. My heart thumped once in dread as I turned to him in question, but he only looked straight ahead, his jaw clenched tightly.

  The members of my procession had gone, leaving only my brother to lead me to my fate.

  I felt like a bird on display; set to be chained in front of a crowd and made to dance, to squawk and to do tricks.

  It was then I realized what this building was. The commons area of a high school. I wasn’t sure what high school, but the design was almost identical to the one I had attended all those years ago.

  “I won’t be far,” Travis whispered as he helped me to sit, his fingers moving to attach the shackles around my wrists to the chain that was connected to the floor.

  I gulped as he spun the lock. Even if I had a chance or a hope at escape he had taken that away from me now.

  Travis paused, his body hovering before me as his fingers dropped the heavy lock to the ground. I met his eyes, my body laboring to keep my breathing even with the look he was giving me. He looked at me as if he was saying good-bye, like he was sorry. I felt everything freeze together. I had expected a trial, but Travis looked at me as though this was my final stop.

  It would be now that he would slip me the key, a pin to pick the lock, a gun, my rail, anything, but he just looked at me. The fear behind his eyes grew before he pressed his lips against my forehead and walked away.

  Travis moved through the crowd toward a large table where Abran and several other people sat. They looked down at me with so much anger and hatred it only seemed to fuel my own. They were the heads of Azul. What I hadn’t expected was for Travis to take his place amongst them. He slid into an empty seat on the left hand side of Abran, his eyes hooded and sad as he looked down at me.

  He was one of them. One of the leaders of the only humans left to fight. I wished he had told me—said something—but I knew why he hadn’t. Even with his place of power, he hadn’t been able to do anything.

  He was the only one who cared.

  The screams increased as I was left alone, more and more objects beginning to fly toward me now that I was left alone and unprotected.

  Bread rolls, potatoes, broken pieces of wood. They all flew through the air at me, some sliding against the floor to land at my feet, even more smacking hard against my already pained body. The holes in the floor, the once red blood stains, they suddenly made sense. I could hear the laughs, the screams and the anger; the sounds all washed over me as attack after attack came.

  They didn’t care if they made me bleed, it would only take the loss of all my blood to change me. Even then, I would be the same to them as I was now. A monster.

  One after another, the rudimentary weapons smacked against my skin, pelting me with what felt like rocks, which I am sure some of them were. I pulled against the chains as I tried to move away from the assault, my hands jerking as I pulled at them repeatedly. I grit my teeth as I pulled, the chains not so much as budging.

  I tried to cower into myself, to shield my body, but I couldn’t get low enough. I couldn’t hide. They merely hit the top of my head and shoulders instead of my face and chest. The laughter and jeers from the crowd only increased. I was trapped here, exposed for their gruesome game.

  I clenched my teeth together in an attempt to keep the scream inside—to keep the pain trapped inside of me—but I couldn’t keep it in and before long, I felt the wet tears stream down my cheeks, the yell of tortured pain broke from my lips.

  I shielded my face as I looked through my fingers, the line of the leaders laughing as they watched the spectacle, all except my brother who held his head in his hands, his fingers clawing through his hair.

  I had thought this was a trial to decide my fate, to decide if I should be killed. Two sides arguing a case to be determined by a higher authority. I had held onto the thought of a fair trial even though somewhere inside I had known better. My fate had already been decided. It didn’t matter if they hurt me, if they made me bleed. They were going to turn me into a monster anyway. I felt the rocks hit against my father’s leather jacket, against the toes of his work boots, until they stopped, the crowd’s shouts increasing as their ammo had been extinguished.

  I didn’t dare move, I didn’t want to lift my eyes to see my brother sitting there, watching everything happen. Suddenly, the fear and sadness behind his eyes made sense. It wasn’t for the verdict that was to come, it was for the beating.

  I lifted my head slowly, a loud groan escaping my lips as my back fell against the chair heavily, the impact ricocheting through my spine. I let my eyes lift to the ceiling where the false sunlight filtered through the glass and hit my face. I closed my eyes at its warmth, letting the faded memories of a life I would never get back flood over me; letting the warmth seep into me as tears rolled silently down my cheeks.

  I wasn’t even aware that the noises from the crowd had stopped until Abran’s voice boomed around me, the thick accent making him sound larger, menacing. The sound cut through me, tensing everything. His voice boomed and echoed and I opened my eyes to the light, waiting for the worst to come.

  “The creature before us has registered positive at a rate of eighty-seven percent, it is estimated that she will become one of the Tar within one month’s time. It has been presented before the council to dispose of the thing for testing with an ap
proval of eighty percent. It has also been set before the council to let the thing live for observation with an approval rate of twenty percent.”

  My trial was a vote—a vote for the majority—and I had lost. I should have known better. I could already feel the bruises throbbing into my skin, the only marker of the “say” that I would get. I could tell by Abran’s words that they had already decided.

  I lifted my head to look at Travis. His eyes were already boring into mine as tears flowed down his own cheeks. For one day—no, for a few hours—we had found each other, we had been given a second chance, and once again, that was going to be taken from us. I would be gone and he would be alone again.

  My heart broke for him. I knew what being alone was like.

  I tried to smile at him, but my lips refused to move. My fear had frozen them in place.

  “It has here-by been decided by the council that the thing will be disposed of for immediate testing.”

  The crowd erupted in joy.

  My heart fell; frozen, heavy and forgotten within me.

  I watched Travis until the crowd had grown and swallowed him up; just like the black had swallowed up Cohen. Just like the world would swallow up me.

  The noise of the crowd grew as the happy exclamations turned into revelry. You would think they had just won the lottery with the noise they were making, not that they were about to commit murder. All because my blood gave them a scary number.

  I let my head fall back to the light just as I saw two guards approach me, their guns already drawn. I let the light hit my face as I focused on their footsteps, on the shadow of their guns as they pointed them down on me.

  The light was warm, like the sun and Travis’s hand against my arm; like Cohen’s touch against my lips. Warm like I was. Warm like life. They had a number that said I was going to die, that I would turn into a Tar. Yet I didn’t feel that way. Not completely. They thought I was already gone, but I didn’t. I would fight to keep that, to remain human.