“You live here?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes. More often than not, I live on what most think are uninhabited islands outside the Net. Many of us sent into exile do, as well as a few who wanted to escape the grasp of Sententia’s leaders. The soldiers have been searching for us and expanding their perimeter. Eventually they will discover our locations.”
“How can they fly outside the Net?”
“They can’t right now, but are in the process of adding towers and expanding their reach. Soon, they won’t have a problem with getting to us. We, the outsiders, believe your great-great-grandfather left you a kill switch, a means to shut everything down if the government got out of control. All their technology runs on it. Communications, weapons, you name it. We believe your ancestor had the foresight to know men would do unspeakable things for power, as they are now.”
“What about your brother? Couldn’t you have gone to him for help?”
“Yes, but he didn’t know I existed at the time, and more than likely he would’ve wanted nothing to do with me if he did. Until a couple years later, when he had his eyes opened as I had mine. Denied marriage to a woman he’d fallen hard for, he went against the law and tried to secure a contract. Someone left her cold, dead body on his doorstep. She’d worked in the fields, and the government wanted to make it clear to him he couldn’t step outside of his class. He believes his father was behind it, but can’t prove it. My brother continues to oversee the sector assigned to him, knowing full well a colony of rebels lives on the outskirts of the Net. He has tried to halt the progress of the new towers, but he’s running out of excuses.”
“So, I’m still confused over how your parents managed to have two children.”
“They didn’t. My father had been killed in an accident around my third birthday, and my mother remarried a Senator of Sententia’s largest sector—the main island, our leader’s right hand man. They granted her the right to have a second child if she severed ties with me—gave me up to the system.” He frowned and tossed a stone into the pond. “I know what it feels like to grow up an orphan, like you. The way the government treats its citizens like livestock isn’t right.”
I never discussed how I’d grown up in the system. No orphan did. For Eli to talk about what happened to kids without parents seemed unnatural. I glanced around as though someone could overhear and realized how paranoid I’d become.
There were some things you didn’t share with anyone, and in Sententia, being an orphan was one of them. I’d never mentioned it to anyone, and my records had been sealed. Most orphans were the product of unsanctioned marriages or births, considered the scum at the bottom of a barrel, a burden on society who should’ve never happened. I was neither, but society tacked the label on me from the moment my parents perished. I realized we had a lot in common. I reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. “So, tell me about your brother.”
9
“Family is important,” Axel says, bringing me out of my story. I stare at the art on my wall and remember where I am. It’s not the cave, and the man watching me, hanging on my every word, isn’t Eli.
I turn to him, open my mouth, and close it. Clones don’t have family, at least I don’t think they do, but maybe he is different. I saw him with two others, and the way the female called out to him when he came after me told me she cares for him. It’s rude to ask, but I’m curious. I heard him and the other man arguing, shoving and shouting when they came outside the theatre. It isn’t my business, but for some reason I want to know why they fought. I shake it off and keep my mouth shut.
“What were you going to say?” he asks and digs through a stack of my books.
He doesn’t miss much, and he’s noticed I’ve held back. His keen observation takes me a little by surprise. “It’s not important.” I try to brush him off. It’s been a long time since I spent a day, or even an hour, in conversation with someone. It’s nice having someone who responds to me. I don’t want to do anything which will jeopardize it. Prying might.
He looks up. “Sure it is. When I was a slave, I had to remain silent and speak only when spoken to. The first few months after I gained my freedom, I didn’t talk much because I didn’t know what to say. Instead, I remained silent. Now I know it’s good to have a voice and speak freely, so when I want to say something, I don’t hold back anymore. So, I ask you again. What were you going to say?”
“When I first saw you come out of the theatre, you were arguing with the other man. Was it over the woman with you?”
He blows out a breath and rakes his hand through his hair. “Yeah.”
“Is she the one you love?”
He nods. “I always will, but I have to let her go.” He frowns. “Sometimes I think it’s easier to be alone.”
I snort. “No way. Before I met Angel, I thought for sure I’d lose my mind. After being alone for a few weeks, I began to hear and see things not there. I remember on the raft talking to Eli, and at one point, believing he actually sat there, asking me about my day. But he wasn’t. It turned out to be a seagull. Too much isolation and your imagination will run away with you. Man isn’t meant to be alone.”
“You were talking to a seagull and thought it was a person. That is pretty screwed up.” The corner of his mouth twitches, and I can tell he thinks it’s funny. “So, who’s Angel? One of your trees?”
I shake my head and laugh. “Angel is my dog. Well, he’s not mine, not really. He can come and go as he wishes, but he chooses to stay with me. So, I guess it makes him a friend more than a pet.”
“Where’d you find him?”
“Not far from here—in the ruins outside the quarantine area. He came into my life when I most needed him.”
* * *
The Ruins of Los Angeles California, January 13, 2239
Sitting cross-legged on the pavement outside a boutique, I chewed on a piece of fish I’d salted and dried while I floated my way to this place. A few months ago, I never would’ve considered consuming something from the ocean. Then again, I wouldn’t have imagined where I’d be in the distant future either, but I’d changed.
In more ways than I ever expected.
I raised my canteen and followed my seafood with a swig of warm water. After living on a tropical island, one would think the heat wouldn’t get to me, but the climate was different here. The asphalt, though it had long ago broken into pieces, heated the city streets several degrees higher than the areas not covered with tar. It didn’t help that some of the skyscrapers still had reflective glass in place, turning the area into a virtual microwave.
Running the back of my hand across my forehead, I wiped the perspiration away. I’d yet to come across any sign of recent human activity. Honestly, I didn’t know what I’d do if I encountered others. Run?
Signs with skulls and crossbones proclaimed the area I’d claimed as my own had once been closed for quarantine. The warnings were posted all over the sector, which took up several city blocks. The signs were as old as the Great War, and I doubted they held any validity anymore, even if they seemed to have stopped others, as I’d not seen one human in the area. It was hard to believe no people were here. Actually, it was highly unlikely someone didn’t lurk about, and I would be a fool to believe otherwise. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel alone in this new world.
Most of the buildings and houses in the fenced in area were intact and the contents still where their owners left them one hundred and fifty years before. A bit dusty and deteriorating, but there. It looked like time froze and the people who were here vanished where they’d stood.
The Concertina wire strands, fences and concrete walls were still in place, but the gatekeepers had vanished long before. Nobody stood sentry anymore, ready to stop me from going in and out of the area. If there were skeletons, I hadn’t found them within the containment area. Perhaps the bodies were cremated after death? I didn’t know.
I found the quarantine area cleaner than outside the fence, where the war had draw
n its pound of flesh from the city. Tidy or not, something terrible happened within this zone. I didn’t need the signs to know it. The whole area had become a ghost town, with only whispers of who’d lived here remaining.
Graffiti-covered walls told the stories of those who’d come before, of territorial battles and violence. The sector had never been a peaceful place—even now, when mostly void of life. Anger, violence, and division reverberated off the brick, stone, and glass structures. On one building’s façade, I’d found a record of the deaths of several who’d fought on these streets: “In memoriam of my brothers.”
Some of the paintings were beautiful pictures, others just words which conveyed as much emotion as the paintings. This place had been a battleground long before the war. It was a place of great loss, and the air around me echoed with it.
Whimper.
I froze with a piece of grouper halfway to my mouth. As I began to question if I’d imagined the sound, it came again, a little louder. It wasn’t human, but that of some kind of animal. I twisted and looked behind me. “Hello?” The skin at the back of my neck twitched.
A young pup crawled out of the building behind me, staying low on his belly. His eyes were quite remarkable, full of the same loss this entire sector echoed with. One blue eye and one green looked up at me with such sorrow, I nearly dropped my fish. He wasn’t old enough to be alone—around seven weeks—so I’d glanced around, looking for a mother. He continued to whimper and crawl closer. His hip bones jutted out under a filthy coat, His mother was no longer alive. I found myself amazed he still breathed, with all the wild animals hunting the streets at night, searching for an easy meal, which he would make.
I knew I should leave him where I found him, given there were diseases wild animals carried. But he seemed so weak. The look in his eyes begged me for help. He wouldn’t make it without me.
“Where’s your mama?”
He dropped his muzzle to the ground and peered up. Even in his condition, I could see what a handsome animal he would be some day, if he lived. His coat sat a shade lighter than the color of coal, with the exception of some rust color around his eyes and muzzle. His ears were already in the process of standing up straight.
He eyed my food, his tongue making an appearance as he licked his chops, but didn’t move any closer. He wasn’t afraid of me, more uncertain of who sat before him with food in their hands.
Only the police had kept dogs on the islands, and he looked remarkably like one of the German shepherds. I’d guessed it was in his ancestry. No matter how diluted his bloodline, his heritage couldn’t be more obvious.
“You’re a pretty boy.”
He cocked his head.
I tossed him the piece of fish, and he snapped it up, his tail wagging. Sinking back to his belly, he waited for more. I tore off another piece of my meal and set it in front of him. He launched onto it and gobbled it up before I could blink. “Well, you can’t very well make it on your own, can you?”
He dropped his head to his paws and continued to watch me, waiting for another morsel of the meal I so clearly didn’t mind sharing. “Well, you need it more than me.”
I sat the entire fish down, and he’d devoured it as though he consumed his last supper. Once finished, he licked his chops and padded over to me, climbing in my lap and curling up. With a soft huff, he tucked his nose into the crook of my knee and fell asleep. Just like that. It happened so fast I was a little shocked. I hadn’t expected full surrender to my care. In a matter of seconds, I’d become a mother. Slowly, I lowered my hand to his head. He sighed, so I rested it there.
Across the street, a sign stood out. The Los Angeles Pawn. “I think I’ll call you Angel.”
He snuggled in as though he agreed. I slipped my fingers into his dirty scruff, in need of a good washing once we got home to the compound. My fingers grazed ribs, telling me he was skinnier than I’d thought, but his condition would soon change. For the first time in a long time, I knew I’d be okay. I no longer had to do this by myself. His chest rose and fell, and cute little puppy snores escaped his mouth.
We were no longer alone.
* * *
“Touching,” Axel says.
I shake my head and smile. “Are you making fun of me? I poured my heart into my story.”
“Not at all, but I was thinking about what you said, about having a friend. Eli was your friend?”
I bite my lip and worry it between my teeth. Had he been my friend, or did he do all he did to acquire access to the tower? He’d told me himself he had no room in his heart to love another. “I don’t know.”
“Did he do something to make you question it?” Axel doesn’t take his eyes from me as we sit in silence for several minutes. I finally nod.
“Tell me what he did?”
“Everything.” Should I tell him more? I have no idea if he will use what I say against me. I want to trust him, but I’m not sure it’s wise. “I’m going to bed. You can sleep on the rug over there.” I point and get up.
Axel grabs my arm, stopping me. “Talk to me, Iia.”
I pull on my arm, and he releases me. “Angel,” I call out to my dog, who stands up from the rug where I told Axel to make his bed. My canine friend trots ahead of me into my room.
Talking about Eli has made me sad. I’d like to think at the end we were friends, but all this conversation with the stranger has left me questioning everything. I follow Angel through the door and shut it behind me. Leaning back against its cool metal surface, I inhale and then exhale.
This stranger feels like more of a friend than Eli ever did. I turn around, open the door, and walk back out. I don’t know why, but I need to tell him about Sententia, what happened there.
Axel is in my chair, reading my novel. He looks up. “You want to finish your story?”
I nod and drop down on the floor in front of him. I lie back and stare at the ceiling, thinking about the cave. The kiss. “The rebels used the tunnels and caves all over the islands to move everywhere. Sometimes they hid in them. Other times they used them to store illegal goods. We took shelter in one of the larger caverns.”
“Why do you want to know about my brother?” Eli drew circles in the sand on the cave floor, not looking up at me, almost as though he avoided eye contact.
I shrugged. “I guess I’m curious.” And I was. Nobody on the islands had siblings.
“Many out there think I’m the leader of the resistance, but I’m not. My brother is. He’s the one that sent me to find you and deactivate the towers. The bees are a threat. You have no idea how dangerous they are.”
“I’ve worked with them for years. I don’t fear them.”
“You should. My brother said they are the perfect weapon, nearly impossible to stop. He has seen them in action, when they were tested on convicts.”
“He’s into the conspiracy theories like you.” I lifted a brow. His delusions no longer frightened me. Rather, they seemed even more ridiculous since I’d gotten to know him a bit.
“Did you not hear me? He saw them used to execute military prisoners and knows, has connections I could only dream of. He didn’t burn his chip, and has the wealth to milk the black market for all its worth. But there is more to him than that. There are people who are born to lead, and he is one of them. He can hypnotize a crowd when he talks. You can’t help but stand there and listen to him. He’d been born to lead, not by the government’s choice, but by nature’s.
“When he says something, I have no doubt he’s speaking the truth.” Eli shook his head. “It’s hard to explain. Justin has the most amazing presence. He’s intelligent, knows what he’s talking about. People want to follow him, and it’s impossible not to like him. What’s really remarkable is he’s only twenty-three.”
“Hey, I’m not much younger.” I slugged Eli gently.
The corners of Eli’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. “You’re a baby too. I’ve got thirteen years on you.”
I frowned. There was no reason why what he�
�d said should bother me, but it had. I didn’t want Eli to think of me as a kid, but he obviously did. We looked into each other’s eyes for the briefest of seconds, and then I saw it. He’d felt the attraction too, but wouldn’t pursue it. My face heated, and if not for my dusky complexion, I knew he’d see the red painting my cheeks, even in the dim light.
His smile dropped, and he rose to his feet. “Over a decade separates us in age. Not that you aren’t beautiful or someone I could see myself with, Iia. You are. But you don’t deserve to get hooked up with a guy like me. I’m no good for you. You’d do well to remember it.” He turned away, and I found myself squirming more. “We should get some sleep.” He started ahead of me, going to the area where he’d said the rebels kept supplies, leaving me no choice but to follow, no matter how much I wished I could leave. I’d only get out of this place if he showed me the way.
I felt so foolish, like a young girl with a crush on a boy way out of my league. Then again, just two days before, he’d kidnapped me. A relationship with my captor should be the last thing on my mind.
We walked through a natural tunnel formed by lava hundreds of years before and into an open chamber. As I looked around, I doubted the volcano had pushed anything through the caverns in a long time. I sat down as Eli dug out a couple of bedrolls from an old chest in the corner. The trunk could’ve only been carried into this room, which meant there was another access and I wouldn’t have to crawl through it.
I laid the pad and blankets out, curling on my side with my back to the rebel.
An hour passed, or at least I thought it had. I hadn’t slept at all, and my mind kept churning around our conversation.
“I can’t do it again, Iia.”
I snorted. “You don’t have to explain.”
“I don’t have anything left. Karly was my whole world, and when I lost her, I forgot how to live.”
“I said you don’t have to explain!” I tugged the blanket up higher, over my ears. I hurt but didn’t want to admit it. “I’m not going to make a pass or anything. I’m not even attracted to you, so get over yourself.”
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