Under My Skin

by Shawntelle Madison

  Her voice matched the one who spoke on the transport ship. So that was Felicity.

  “Go ahead, ask me your questions,” I said as I put my hand over my mouth. Every movement I made, the handcuffs clinked in response. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

  Quinn quickly agreed. “Do you remember that time before you saw your cousin? Before I had a chance to warn you?”

  I nodded.

  “Who did I warn you stay away from?”

  An easy enough question.

  “You warned me to stay away from a tall man. He was one of the General’s friends.” My voice was quiet, but I managed to get the answer out.

  “It’s her. The General was unconscious while I said that to her.”

  Felicity seemed satisfied with that response. “Okay, then. But for our safety, I expect her to wear a Lund Bracelet while she’s walking around here.”

  “What’s a Lund Bracelet?” I mumbled.

  My question was answered when one of the male guards removed my ankle cuffs—only to put a bracelet on my right leg. The band of metal, about an inch thick, pulsed every few seconds.

  I extended my hands for him to remove the handcuffs, but he shook his head.

  Quinn grabbed my shoulders and directed me toward the door. “Don’t worry about anything,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe.”

  “What about the bracelet? What does it do?”

  He chuckled. “You might not want to know what it does. But just to check, you do remember the new routine we talked about, don’t you?”

  I nodded. “We exchange numbers when I feel him coming.”

  We left the room through the door to my right. Felicity took the lead. From the doorway, we walked down a well-lit hallway. Our footsteps scraped against the concrete floor, filling the silence of this place with echoes. At the far end of the corridor, we reached a large metallic door with a panel on the side. Felicity exposed her wrist and swiped her bar code on a scanner.

  A series of muffled clicks through the door reached my ears as well as the churning of massive gears. Then the great door crept open.

  Felicity turned to me, a proud smile on her face. “Welcome to the headquarters of the Resistance.”

  The Resistance. So this was the headquarters of the group that tried to rescue me right after the auction.

  I walked through the massive doorway and followed Felicity through more corridors past more guard posts. The earthen smell continued through the hallways. Some of the walls appeared carved out, as if a machine had burrowed through this place. I reached out and brushed my hand against the wall. It was far colder than the air around us.

  As I took it all in, I wished they’d rescued me before General Dagon had taken me. But, of course, that would mean I might not have been able to help Quinn find his brother.

  Felicity led us through a storage room into a conference room. She gestured for me to sit down on one of the chairs. “At this point, you might be a bit frightened with what’s happening to you.”

  “You could say that.” I rested my handcuffed hands on the worn table. “Do you know how to get Dagon out of me?”

  Felicity’s face didn’t appear hopeful. “I’m afraid we don’t know exactly how to push the Guild members out. We’ve never come close to figuring out how to reverse the Vorhees Unit.”

  I rubbed my fingers against the table. Someone had carved it with their own hands. “I have so many questions, but I don’t know where to start. Maybe I should start with the obvious. What can you do to help me?”

  Quinn, who sat next to me, finally spoke. “They can give you the tools necessary to get rid of Dagon on your own.”

  “Tools?” I asked. “As in a technique of some kind or a real tool I hold in my hands?”

  Quinn replied, “You have the advantage. Don’t forget that. It’s your body he wants to take over, but you were there first, and that’s the way it’s meant to be, especially since two minds weren’t meant to fit in one body.”

  He waited a moment for me to absorb the information before he continued. “Your brain’s a bunch of cells—neurons. Are you familiar with the terms I’m using?”

  I nodded. So far so good.

  “From the day you were born until now, your thoughts and actions have determined how the pathways between those neurons were formed. A gigantic, immense map that makes you the person you are. What makes the Water Bearers special to the Guild is how easily that map can be altered to include another ‘person.’ The more accessible the person is, the higher the value among the Guild.”

  Some of what he said made sense. And it explained why those Guild members bid so high for me. But what did it mean, overall? “So how does this information help me?”

  Felicity placed her hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “The path Quinn took to free himself may not work for you, but you have to try. He’s the only one right now who’s figured out the process.”

  The grim news made my face fall. But Felicity appeared excited.

  “When I first became a Water Bearer,” Quinn said wistfully, “I knew something was wrong the moment I took that disgusting offering at that well. That made me question why they would make us drink the water. Why perform some ceremony? Why not just auction us off to the Guild?” He rested his elbows against the table. “But it was more than that. It was all a trick to give us the drug necessary to help the Vorhees Unit work properly. A catalyst was needed for the transfer process to occur in the host’s body.”

  The horrible taste came back to me again. “I knew something was bad about that water.”

  Quinn continued. “But that’s just part of the puzzle, Tate. The Guild just aren’t regular people who jump into our bodies whenever they want. Once they buy into becoming a member, they’re trained in how to use us to live forever.”

  Felicity smirked from behind him. I didn’t like how she leaned so close to him. “That’s one thing we’ve figured out on our own.”

  Quinn stood. “We need to start the detox process tonight.”

  Why would we need to be worried about the drugs from the initiation? They should’ve been out of my system a long time ago. “What do you mean by a detox? Are those chemicals still in my body?”

  He sighed, long and deep. “The catalyst had to prepare our brains for the transfer and ensure our minds didn’t suppress the foreign consciousness. Thanks to the Guild, you and I have been infected by a genetically engineered virus.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The offering at the initiation ceremony was nothing more than a cocktail of death to pollute us. No wonder no one was allowed to warn us. All the Guild’s plans depended on us taking that offering.

  After talking for a bit longer, a balding man in a white lab coat came into the conference room to give me an injection of clear fluid. Once finished, he checked me over and said gruffly, “Not sure how this stuff will help you, Miss Sullivan.” He shrugged. “We’re just lowering the levels of your infection, but it’s better than nothing.”

  “So there’s no cure?” I whispered.

  “For now,” the man replied. “For the longest time, we didn’t know much. Then Quinn showed up after the Guild had taken him. He volunteered everything he’d learned. We really needed someone like him for our experiments.”

  My skin crawled at the thought of a virus swimming under my skin. I couldn’t help thinking about my father and all the illnesses that had swept over Myria. So many people had died due to RF9 and KB12. And now I had a virus in me that allowed the Guild to take over my mind. What kind of crazy person thought up this kind of stuff?

  Quinn directed me to get up. “We’ll have to make some kind of arrangement to get you more doses, but for now, we need to get you back. If the General wakes up, we’re in trouble. We’ve already spent too much time here.”

  “What about the training?” I asked. How could I help myself if I didn’t start soon?

  “We’ll get to it next time. We need to maintain your cover and get you back to the estate before the s
hift change in the morning.”

  I nodded and rubbed the sore spot on my arm. The place where they’d stuck me tingled. A sensation of lightheadedness hit when I took a step toward the door, but it receded after a few steps.

  But what I’d interpreted as a foggy head was the subtle hints of fear along my spine. The kind of fear that only came at a particular time.

  I stopped in the middle of the hallway and a few guards ran into me. Quinn glanced my way, eyes filled with concern.

  “No,” I mumbled. “Not right now.”

  With a single hiss-like command from Felicity, a blindfold flipped over my head to cover my eyes. Soldiers scrambled around me. The faint crackle of las-guns activating. All the while, I shouldered the heavy burden of keeping him asleep. My legs wobbled at the sheer weight of his will, the power of General Dagon’s mind to draw itself into my consciousness.

  “Not now,” I repeated. A layer of sweat dampened my palms, but I continued to clench them, gripping them tightly as if they’d keep me in check.

  What did Quinn tell me to do if something like this happened? I couldn’t remember for a while.

  The numbers. I had to give him numbers in case I couldn’t touch my mouth.

  The pressure increased—blossoming open to spread across my brow and slice across my eyes. With every inch, it grew. A fire burned my skin. He wanted out. He wanted me.

  I shut my eyes tighter. “359.”

  “359,” Quinn repeated.

  “359.”

  Pain coursed through my scalp and raced toward my face. With each ticking second, the pain increased ten-fold. I was a bow stretching to the point of breaking.

  “I can’t do it,” I breathed. “I can’t…”

  I heard Felicity through the blinding heat of agony. “Prepare the Lund. Stun setting.”

  “No!” Quinn snapped. “Lights out. Now.”

  Lights out? No sooner had I opened my mouth to ask, than a shower of white electricity shot out of the Lund Bracelet. My muscles spasmed. My teeth ground together. The never-ending voltage sent me shuddering unconscious to the ground.

  A faint chill spread through my clothes into my back. Why was I so cold?

  Incomplete thoughts swam in and out of my head: the Resistance, my visit, the Lund Bracelet. I tried to get my bearings, but focus was difficult to grasp. The cold all around me didn’t make it any easier. Faint memories of the transfer chamber came to mind. My hands were tied behind my back.

  Someone came to my side. I sensed their warmth.

  “Are you ready to recite them?” said a man’s voice—Quinn’s.

  I licked my dry lips and tried to remember. He wanted something important from me.

  His voice sounded more urgent. “You need to give me what I want. General, you’re not one to hold back like this.”

  He’d called me Dagon. They thought I might be him.

  I searched the murky corners of my mind until three digits became clear. “359,” I blurted. My voice sounded distant.

  Quinn sighed. “You scared me for a bit there.”

  “You and me both,” I mumbled.

  The trip back to the transport ship was like my trip to the headquarters. Somewhat silent and blinded. Even though I’d proven my identity, they still didn’t take any chances. I only had one dose of the antivirus, and the General had tried to make an appearance, so I didn’t blame them.

  My entire body felt weakened—broken. If he came back again I wouldn’t be able to hold him back. In the process of saving me, they’d left the door wide open. But they’d managed to keep our secret. I hoped.

  A big question came to mind on the way back. I directed it to Quinn, who I sensed was near. “How do you plan to free the Water Bearers?” I asked.

  It was Felicity who answered first. “At this point, we’ve tried our best to intercede before the transfer ceremony. With all their defenses in place, our success rate’s been low, way too low,” she grumbled.

  “Why not find a way to bring down the Prime Minister?” I asked.

  I heard a laugh from Felicity and the other guards. “Using what army?” one man said. “Adam Lyons—Falcon, or whatever name he’s using now, is much more careful than he used to be ten years ago with tougher defenses and better tech. He also has more control over the network, and, therefore, over the general population.”

  Quinn chimed in. “The only way we can do this is to make people aware of these atrocities and bring everyone together to act against the Guild.”

  “Been there, tried it, and failed,” another man said.

  “The Black Riots,” I whispered. Not long after RF9 had decimated the corners of the world, the remaining countries locked down their borders. That was the beginning of control for many places, including the country that would become Myria. Hundreds of years before I was born, the people in the larger cities poured into the streets and fought against the police. According to my book, it was over the lack of medical care for the sick. What I hadn’t known when I’d first read the book was the true reason why the people had rioted. Someone had managed to get the word out. And it was that one seed that grew into the Black Riots. Over a thousand people died and my country was never the same again.

  “They buried the truth then,” the man continued. “They have much more control now. Any attempts to release information to the general public will be futile.”

  They continued to talk for the rest of the transport ship ride. They’d made so many attempts, all of them useless.

  They’d tried to rescue the Water Bearers before the auctions, a few here and there. But it was not enough to slow down the flow of bodies to the Guild members. They’d tried to prevent people from attending the testing, but the Guild simply changed the locations of the Testing Centers. How could such a vicious cycle be stopped?

  I curled into the seat as sleep tugged at me. I didn’t want to sleep. Not after what had happened. But I couldn’t sense the General coming, so I felt secure to fall into slumber just this one time.

  The long night drifted into a day I never saw. I’d made it back to the estate safely, but, in the end, the General owned the day and the next day as well. When I finally woke up, I drifted into seeing the outside of the estate. The sky had a purple haze, and a chilly wind swept across the lawn, the first signs of the evening. I yearned for the time I’d missed.

  Beyond the gardens, in the open field in front of the barracks, the General used my body to pace back forth across the lawn. His personal guards sweated through their training exercises in spite of the cold.

  “You’re all weak,” he barked at the men doing push-ups. “You have no focus, no drive to perform your exercises as expected from your commanding officer. But all that ends now.”

  He loomed over them as sweat dripped off their backs. When one of them didn’t perform as expected, he took my foot and pushed down on his shoulders.

  Over the past few days, I’d learned Dagon had worked with the military to protect the northern border from attacks. I had to admit, the General was good at what he did. For the first offensive, as he called it, he placed his troops to knock out hidden outposts. He then pushed the invaders into a position that was favorable for Myrian soldiers.

  He accomplished all of this using my body. Just like Alphonse had wanted.

  “It’s mine now,” he liked to remind me. “I will go to the front lines soon to help protect an important site. But in order to do that, I need to strengthen this broken body of yours.”

  He referred to the las-gun wound on my back. The blue streaks continued to stretch toward my hips. The wound hurt every time I rolled over in my sleep or when I bent over too fast.

  Des had told me I’d have to watch out for other symptoms. But what would they be? Did all of this have to do with Quinn’s warning—that two minds shouldn’t inhabit the same body? Maybe the body could tell that the mind was burdened and tried to fight back. Could it be a countermeasure to the infection of a foreign consciousness?

  I thought a
bout all these things as Quinn went through the exercises for the General. Quinn marched in place and practiced firing his weapons like the rest of the men. All the while, we worked around each other as if the other didn’t exist.

  Even though we had a system in place, sneaking out of the estate wasn’t an easy task. The General had many orders to fulfill and sites to oversee, but since the transformation wasn’t complete, Rebecca continued to watch me with a wary eye.

  Like before, I had to be blindfolded and handcuffed for another trip to the Resistance Headquarters. Having Quinn guide me to the transport ship was one of the things I enjoyed the most. He could’ve held me away from him at arm’s length to help me through the forest, but instead, he held my hand. I preferred the sound of our voices instead of the night animals. To end the silence between us, I asked him a question.

  “What will I learn this time?”

  “You’ll get another injection. Learn more about how to act like the Guild.”

  “What was it like when you had someone in your head?”

  “So you want to know about my adventures before I joined the military?” He sighed. “Well, it’s not a time I remember fondly. My parents had been members of the Resistance who’d settled here in Myria to provide intel. Pete and I had lived a good life on a farm until I was tested and the Guild auctioned me off. I was sold to a man named Franklin. A rich merchant from the northeast. Like all the others, he’d bought his way into the Guild—into their system of lies.”

  I stumbled, but he caught me and kept going. “I wonder what price someone would be willing to pay to hurt other people. Why don’t the merchants expose the Guild?”

  “It’s an exclusive club, Tate. Everyone who has any inkling of power within Myria knows about them and wants in.”

  “But it makes no sense. Wouldn’t the people who knew the big secret but aren’t Guild members not want their children to be tested?”