The Circle- Taken
Page 15
At the door of the infirmary, he motions me in without following. Only when I cross the threshold does he turn to leave. Inside, the room is dark, except for the little light that escapes from the covered windows.
“Hello?” I call out to the empty room.
I feel the body behind me seconds before a man’s gloved hand covers my mouth completely. I try to scream, but my vocal cords are paralyzed. The white gauze over my mouth reeks of chemicals. I force my head sideways and widen my eyes as recognition dawns. It’s the head doctor. I start to struggle again, but the chemicals sap my strength. In seconds, I lose all power to move.
“I’m sorry for the mystery of this.” Serafina steps out from inside a cubicle. The curtain covering it sways in the still air. “We had to make sure no one else knows.”
“What are you doing?” I force the whisper once the doctor removes his hand. Just as I start to lose the use of my legs, the doctor and his assistant lay me gently down on a hospital bed. Serafina watches us silently.
“You can speak, but as you see, it will be difficult,” the doctor murmurs. “Save your energy.”
My mind on full alert, I watch, helpless, as the assistant prepares an injection and then inserts the needle into my arm. He then attaches it to an IV.
“Tell me.” I pull the words from the base of my throat.
“It will only take a few minutes.” Serafina motions for the doctor to get started.
I can only watch as the doctor and his assistant methodically get prepared. They both cover their mouths with a mask, followed by a clear plastic shield over their faces. With gloved hands, they attach electrodes to my head, chest, and arms. The wires connect to a small laptop set atop the desk.
“Her heart rate is dropping.” The assistant glances at the machine that monitors my vitals. “She may go into shock.”
“Do it quickly.” Serafina keeps her gaze glued to the monitor.
“I only gave you a small amount of the paralyzing agent.” The doctor looms over the bed. “We’ll move as fast as we can.”
He takes the scalpel from the assistant before pulling my free arm forward. With a strap, he secures it flat on the bed. Images of the previous test where I lost everything replay in my head.
I gasp at a flash of pain, but just as fast it is gone. He drops the scalpel onto the tray to pick up two medical instruments. He leans over my arm, working quickly. A large beeping sound booms through the room.
“Her blood pressure is dropping,” the assistant says calmly.
Next to us, Serafina remains impassive as she watches the procedure.
“What are you doing?” I repeat. Near the base of my arm, I feel a slight tug and then searing pain.
“The laser.” The doctor continues to ignore me. He takes what looks like a small flashlight and flicks a switch, then sutures my skin shut. “Heart rate?”
“Steady but low,” the assistant answers as if I am a chart to be read.
“Did you get it?” Serafina keeps her gaze locked on the doctor.
“I got it,” the doctor answers. “We’re closing her up now.”
“Blood pressure rising and heart rate steady,” the assistant says.
There is another sting. I open my eyes just as the doctor hands the laser back to the assistant. He uncoils a white bandage and rolls it around my arm before securing it.
“She’s all set,” he says to Serafina.
They remove the strap on my arm and start to clean up. The doctor gathers the blood-soaked gauzes and tosses them into a clear bag. The assistant goes to pick something off the tray, but Serafina says, “Leave it.” Nodding, he removes the IV from my vein before sticking another bandage over it. He pulls the door shut behind him.
Once we are alone, Serafina finally acknowledges me. “You’ll regain control of your body in a few minutes.”
“What did you do?” I attempt to sit up, but my body refuses me control.
“I’m sorry for the archaic surgery,” Serafina says, though she doesn’t sound like she means it. “We had little time, and it was important to stay under the radar.” She opens her palm to reveal the tracker. My shocked gaze jumps from it to her. “The doctor removed the one installed by the government when they found you.”
People had tried to remove their tracker back home. Attached to the veins and muscles in a certain way makes it nearly impossible. Many of them died the minute they tried.
“You could have killed me,” I whisper. My toes start to tingle. I wiggle them then carefully move my leg.
“Yes,” Serafina acknowledges. “It was a chance I had to take.”
My fury rises at her for risking my life without approval. Her set jaw and her complete lack of compassion tell me my reaction makes no difference.
“Why remove it?”
My fingers regain sensation. Tentative, I move both hands and then lift my arms. I run my fingers over the bandage where the tracker was embedded.
“Because you were going to end up dead if I didn’t.”
“Who?” I demand, forgetting about everything else in the moment. “Who wants me dead?”
“Survive the Evaluation, Alexia. Then you officially belong to the Circle.”
“And until then?” I ask, my nerves fraught.
Serafina cradles the tracker in her palm. “I fight to keep you safe. Nothing else matters.”
TWENTY-FOUR
I wake up in my room. Though I regained use of my body, the aftereffects of the paralyzing agent left me exhausted. Serafina told the others that I had fallen ill with a virus. I vaguely remember Jackie and the others coming to check on me in the infirmary.
On the second night, the assistant wheeled me back to my room after everyone else was asleep. I climbed into my bed and shut my eyes for another full day. Every morning and night, I vaguely recall Ryan bringing me plates of food. He would sit with me while I devoured them and then leave me once I fell back asleep. I remember trying to thank him, but he told me to focus my energy on getting better.
Now, fully alert, I get out of bed. I run my hand over the bandage. No one can monitor my moves now. No computer can track my comings and goings.
My head throbs. The last few days and the pain from the memory of the ocean slam into me. An ache that was numbed by sleep now spreads through my mind and body. Needing to breathe, to feel anything but the pain that lingers in the room, I open the door to leave.
“Perfect timing,” Harrison says, his fingers fisted to knock.
Remembering his cruelty from the Council meeting and Derrick’s reaction after the plane incident, I instinctively take a step back.
“I was just leaving,” I say.
He smiles, but it is sinister, filled with something I am unable to decipher. It is the same feeling I got when he caught Ryan and me in the stairwell.
“I’m sure you have a few minutes,” Harrison returns. “You and I haven’t had the chance to get to know one another. It’s time we change that, don’t you think?”
“I’m supposed to be at training.” I lock gazes with him, trying to get a read on him without touch. “Maybe another time.”
He seems puzzled by my request. “Have I done something to offend you?” he asks mildly. “Or are you naturally a very unsociable young woman?”
He pushes past me to take a seat on the chair. I stay standing by the door and keep it open. With one hand I grip the knob as I shift gears.
“I’m sorry, it’s just been a long few days,” I say.
“Anything I can help with?” His eyes stray to the visible bandage on my arm.
I scold myself for not having removed it or thrown a sweatshirt over it. “No, nothing.”
“I see.”
He crosses one suit-clad leg over the other then straightens the lapel of his jacket. He’s calm, methodical. The predator watching the prey. I shi
ver though the room is warm.
“You seem to have settled in nicely at the Circle.”
It sounds like an observation rather than a question, so I hold back my response.
“Made friends,” he continues, unconcerned with my silence. “Adjusted to the rigorous training schedule.” He glances around the room. “Adapted to your living conditions. Though it must be better than the orphanage.”
“It is fine,” I answer.
“Good.” He runs his eyes over my frame. “You’ve gained weight. More food than you have ever seen before?”
My mind goes on alert. It was what Jackie and I talked about on the first day. Is it a coincidence, or did he overhear us?
“We had what we needed.”
“And what did you need, Alexia?” Harrison asks. “Someone with your abilities and talents?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I fight to stay calm.
“I think you do,” he says. “You lied to everyone to keep your secret.”
“I did what I had to survive,” I retort.
“And what are you doing now?”
I take a deep breath. He is playing games with me, trying to trip me up, but I refuse to be his quarry.
“Training,” I say. “Surviving. What you’ve asked me to do.”
“I see.” He glances at my shoes then up at me. “Did you enjoy your run the other day? On the beach?”
I go cold. He was tracking me? Did Serafina know? Was that the reason for the tracker removal? Confused by the tenets of their relationship, I tread carefully.
“Yes.” I keep my cards close. The empty sound in the hallway tells me we are still alone. “I did.”
“Good of Ryan to try and help you overcome your fears,” he says.
There’s a buzzing in my ears, a warning of more. I stay silent, unable to concentrate on him and the omen. I refuse to fold first. I cannot react or show my hand. I glance away in defense, not surrender. I have to focus on anything but him.
“He explained you lost your mother in the ocean.”
My gaze flies to him. The buzzing gets louder until it is all I can hear. In silent replay, I see David beating me down during those first few days. I recall every battle I have lost. I relive the fear and loneliness that kept me awake at the orphanage. All of it pales in comparison to the ache in my gut at Ryan’s betrayal. I thought he was my friend, and that he cared.
“He told you?” I whisper, unable to hide any longer.
“Of course.” He stands up and runs his hand down the front of his suit. “He tells me everything. He’s my son. Didn’t you know?”
“No.” I shake my head, refusing his explanation. How did I not know? How was I so oblivious?
Harrison smiles, and the earth tilts beneath me. The answer I have been seeking without knowing the question is now apparent. The plane sabotage and the cliffs were both his attempts to break me. I had withstood them, refusing to fall. So now, unable to break me physically, he’s done it the only way he could. In a battle I had no way of preparing for — he defeated me with one move.
TWENTY-FIVE
Through the gym’s doorway, I spot Ryan in the crowd, talking to another agent. Everyone disappears from my sight as I make a beeline for him. I refuse to stop until we are face-to-face. His eyes warm as I near. I pause at his reaction then remind myself of his betrayal. His callous use of me for his purpose.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
In response, I make a tight fist and punch him in the jaw. His face flies to the side.
“How dare you?” I whisper, my throat convulsing.
He masks his surprise but not before I catch a glimpse of it. A hand on his cheek, he flexes his jaw, testing it. His eyebrow raises in question. “You assume I know what you’re talking about.”
“Why save me if you want me dead?” Tears prickle the back of my eyes, but I push them back. Instead, I allow my rage to rip through me.
Others in the gym fall quiet as they stop to watch. Ryan’s gaze drops to the bandage on my arm.
“I’m going to need more than that,” he says mildly.
“You’re Harrison’s son,” I spit out. His face changes with understanding, but he remains silent. “Answer my question.”
“Why save you if I want you dead?” he repeats. His gaze strays to someone behind me before answering, “Maybe have a little fun?”
On instinct, I throw out another fist to punch him. He throws up an arm and blocks it. I try again, but he sidesteps it.
“Don’t, Alexia,” he says, but I’m too angry to hear him. I strike with my leg, but he grabs it then drops it without hurting me. “You won’t win this.”
I want to scream at him to fight, but disappointment and hurt obstruct the words. My every maneuver he intercepts until I’m out of breath. He grabs my wrists to hold me off.
“Is this an exclusive party?” David comes up behind us. His workout clothes are drenched in sweat. He shifts his gaze lazily from Ryan to me. “Is someone sad?”
“David, stay out of it,” Ryan orders, his gaze still locked on me.
“Why should you have all the fun?” David demands. “I want credit too.” He looks at me with unadulterated hate. “I overheard your conversation, Shiny New Penny.” He starts to clap, each hit of his hands slow and methodical. “Finally figured out who Ryan’s daddy is? Good job.” He leans close until his mouth is right against my ear. “That tidbit of information didn’t come through in your little reading, huh? Guess you are not as impressive as you thought.”
“Leave, David,” Ryan repeats, but David shakes his head no in refusal.
“Why do it?” I strain against Ryan’s hold. When he sees the pain start to dilate my pupils, he finally lets me go. I ignore David and focus on Ryan. “What was the point?”
“Because all of us have our orders,” David spits out, answering for Ryan. “We don’t ask why.”
“All of us?” My stomach tightens into knots. I turn toward Ryan, but his face remains impassive, revealing nothing. “Who else?”
“I’m going to enjoy this more than I thought.” David searches the gym until he zeroes in on someone. He cups his palms around his mouth. “Hey, Jackie, why don’t you join us for a minute?”
My gut goes into a free fall. I refuse to believe it. Seeking repudiation, I silently beg Ryan, but he stays silent. He watches the exchange like a hawk. When I try to swallow, it gets stuck in my throat. I’m paralyzed with heightened emotion when Jackie joins us, oblivious to the situation.
“What do you want?” Jackie asks David after saying hello to Ryan and me.
“We were just telling Shiny New Penny about how we all followed Harrison’s orders,” David says. Jackie’s face falls. Her gaze flies from Ryan to me while David keeps talking. “What were your orders again?” David snaps his fingers as if he’s just remembered. “That’s right. Befriend the new girl. Find out her secrets. Report back.” He goes to pat Jackie on the back, but she slaps his hand away. “Job well done, agent.”
The roar in my head gets louder. Pleased with himself, David crosses his arms over his chest and rocks back on his feet, smiling broadly.
“Alexia,” Jackie starts, and then stops. She struggles, her face filled with apology. “Let me explain.” She takes a step closer, but I hold up a hand to stop her.
I turn toward Ryan. “Are you having fun yet?” I whisper.
He doesn’t answer but his gaze never wavers from me. I start to leave, but Jackie reaches for my arm. With a growl, I shake it off, barely holding back the instinct to strike out.
“How many others?” My voice drops so only the four of us can hear. “Derrick? Gavin? Cassia?”
“None of them,” Jackie says. “You have my word.”
“That’s supposed to mean something?” Grief envelopes me. Desperate to get away, I
move backward. My voice cracks. “You had no right.”
***
Inside my room, I pace until nightfall. The pain intensifies until I can’t be sure where I begin, and it ends. My stomach growls from hunger, but I ignore the call. On the bed, I pick at the bandage where my tracker used to be. I think of the orphanage and wonder what Jenna and the other kids are doing. More than ever before, I yearn for Jenna’s friendship, and for the family I cannot remember. But they are gone. And all I have left is the betrayal of those I began to believe in.
Footsteps start down the hallway and stop when they approach my door. I jump up and out of bed. With no time to find a weapon, I stand behind the door empty-handed. The knob turns, and I wait, reminiscent of my first night at the Circle.
“It’s me,” Ryan says as he enters. He turns around, seeming to know my position. He checks my hands. “What, no glass?”
“Get out,” I order. “Now.”
Like his father, he ignores me and pushes past me into the room.
“Hearing problem?” I demand.
“Harrison being my father?” His gaze holds mine. “I didn’t realize that was a secret.”
“Learning about my mother was,” I fight back. “I trusted you.” I pause, feeling foolish and angry at myself. “It doesn’t matter. I made a mistake.” The knot in my gut tightens. “Did you even wait for a breath before telling him?”
He grimaces. “There are things you don’t know.”
“You keep saying that.” I scoff at his admission. “And yet you’ve had multiple opportunities to tell me.” Withdrawing from him, I say, “I don’t want to do this. I trusted the wrong people.” Disappointment settles inside me like a familiar friend. “It won’t happen again.”
He runs his hand over his neck, a sign I now recognize as frustration. “Jackie’s an agent-in-training. She had to follow orders.”
“That’s an excuse?”