Under My Skin

by Shawntelle Madison

  Then I took control of both of his legs. My vision jostled as he stumbled.

  “This isn’t the time to play with me, girl,” the General warned me.

  I planned to do more than play around.

  Like plucking fingers from around a handle, I took back control of my body, bit by bit, cell by cell of nerve endings and flesh. The strain turned into pain across my brow, but I didn’t give up.

  The General tried to walk away from the crowd, excusing himself from the people who tried to talk to us.

  This time I was the praying mantis, and he was the tiny bug. Even through the pain, ever-present and increasing, I sensed his retreat, the fear dissipating—until only I remained.

  I made it to the wall and rested my back against it. My trembling fingers brushed against a line of sweat. There was something running out of my nose as well. Red blood.

  I opened my eyes to see Zoe standing beside me with a handkerchief. “The pain will only get worse,” she said.

  “How long have you been standing there?” I whispered.

  “Long enough to know it’s you.” She took my hand and squeezed it.

  I wiped off my nose and glanced around. “Where’s Felix?”

  “He’s our cover. He’s distracting Cecelia while we make our escape.”

  My eyebrows lowered. “Your Second Water Bearer is helping you?”

  She waved at someone from across the room—blew a kiss afterward. “If I have to keep up this act any longer, I’ll vomit, especially if I have to do it in this nasty dress.”

  I admired the very expensive, detail work of her violet-colored gown as we left the ballroom. For a lunatic, Justina had good taste.

  “It’s rather pretty,” I admitted.

  Thankfully, no one stopped us when we reached my car. I expected the driver to have something to say about my guest, but he kept his thoughts to himself. “Back to the apartment, Master?”

  “Head to the corner of 455th and Cross Street,” I managed. Time to finalize my plan to save Zoe.

  Within a few minutes, the driver reached the corner. At this time of the night, the streets were full of pedestrians, most of them dressed for a night out. With so many people passing the car, I wasn’t sure if Tyson would show up. Until I heard a tap on the driver’s door.

  Tyson, dressed in black with a cloak over his head, pointed a las-gun at the driver. “Scoot over,” he demanded.

  The trip back to my estate took some time. Under most circumstances, the journey lasted at least three hours by air. Since we drove, the trip would take us far longer. The driver had been left behind at an abandoned solar-fuel station a few hours outside of the capital. We had a bit of time before he’d report us to the enforcers.

  During the whole trip, Zoe didn’t look too good. Sweat formed on her brow. She rubbed her arms and rocked herself gently. From between her dry lips, she mumbled words again and again. They were so low, I couldn’t hear them.

  I reached for her, but she shrank away. A line of blood trailed out of her nose, bright red and coppery, while she recited the words again.

  I gave her some space while she rocked in the seat.

  With a trembling hand, I used a handkerchief to wipe the blood away. When I reached for her again, Tyson spoke from the front seat. “Don’t stop her—”

  I glanced at him and mumbled, “But this isn’t right. She sounds like she’s hurt.”

  “She’s...fighting Justina right now.”

  Using the other end of the handkerchief, I wiped off her forehead. “That’s what I thought. How long has she been like this?”

  “For a while now,” he replied. “The last few days have been the hardest on her.”

  Was this my fate? I glanced at Zoe again and I shuddered. From the way her face contorted, she had to be in so much pain.

  “What happened at Justina’s home?” I asked. Based on what Justina had said to me, I suspected things were much worse for Zoe.

  “Justina’s known in many circles for how beautiful she is. Zoe, of course, didn’t appreciate the guys who kept showing up to see her. Since I was a guard, I didn’t see much. Just heard a bunch of fights between Justina and Zoe. It was never pretty.”

  I snapped forward in the seat, tempted to ask him if Justina had sex with any of those men. Would Justina dare do such a thing with Zoe still conscious in her head? I sat back and tried not to recount all the times the General had threatened to kill my family if I didn’t cooperate. Anything was possible with those people.

  I tried to wear a brave face. For all I knew, Zoe was winning, but what would happen if the General appeared again or Justina won the fight? Would all our plans end in failure?

  We’d planned to find a place to hide out until Zoe finished purging herself of Justina, but I had a feeling we were in for a long wait.

  “I contacted the Resistance before you guys found me,” he said. “They’ll pick up Zoe, but they’ll need time to reach us. By this point, Justina’s profile on the network will be seen as a kidnap attempt. All the checkpoints along Myrian roads will go into lockdown mode.”

  He did have a point there. But every part of me wanted to go to north. Meet up with the Resistance and get help from Quinn. If he were still there.

  I had no choice but to help them check into an inn. If everything were under my name, they could hide away for a little while.

  We found a place to stay at one of the inns not far from the General’s estate. Most of the buildings around it appeared haggard. Hardly able to stand on their own.

  The mountains in the distance offered freedom. All we had to do was cross them and find the Resistance.

  Thanks to my new name, Elise Dagon could get any room she wanted. No one questioned my motives or why I had guests. The quiet clerk behind the desk handed me a passkey and then went back to staring at his comm-console.

  Dark hallways with faded wallpaper greeted us along the way. I was tempted to trace my finger along the intricate repeated design, but the walls were dirty. Even the dust hadn’t been swept away. I expected to hear other guests behind the doors we passed. But I heard nothing. No talking or blaring comm-consoles, only silence. Did they have any other guests?

  Our room was the last along the long hallway. I used the passkey and turned the ancient brass doorknob. Thank goodness the inside was in far better shape than the hallway.

  Once in the room, Zoe settled on the small bed with a groan. She should be able to get some rest in here. The room didn’t have much, but at least she’d have a shower to freshen up later and a clean bed to sleep on.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked her.

  “Like garbage, but my head’s clearer.” She rubbed her forehead and curled into a comfortable position on the bed. Tyson stood guard near the door.

  “I wish we could’ve done this sooner,” I said as I sat next to her. “Why did we have to make our move during the Victory Ball?”

  “Justina got suspicious.” She wiped more blood away. “My head’s killing me. Have you driven him away yet?”

  I offered her a sad smile. “He’s very strong.”

  “But you’re stronger. Between the two of us, you’ve always been the stronger one. You may not see it, but you can fight back if you find something deep within that makes you invincible.”

  I wanted to ask her how the words she recited in the car made her stronger, but her face reflected deep pain. I turned to Tyson. “I think it would be a good idea if I left you two and went back to the General’s estate.”

  Zoe snatched my hand. “No. You’re staying with us.”

  “Unlike you, I’m not ready yet to fight the Guild member in my head.”

  She squeezed my hand tightly. Her sad eyes begged me to see things her way. “We’re family. I won’t let you walk away like this.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I should’ve gotten us out of this mess a long time ago before the transfer.” I still often wondered what would’ve happened if I’d told her about Claire’s words. Would Zoe hav
e believed me? Would she have tried to help us escape?

  Zoe groaned. “I’m so hungry.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Tyson said.

  “I know the town pretty well.” I didn’t want to tell them about the pub I’d visited, but at least they’d have food to offer. “I could find something—some hot food and drinks to bring back.”

  Tyson headed for the door. “I’ll go with you.”

  Our trip out didn’t last long. We found a pub—a different one, thank goodness, and we snagged some hot sandwiches and drinks. Most folks didn’t want to look me in the eye, but they happily took Elise Dagon’s credits without a problem.

  On the way back, Tyson blurted, “I have to check on something real quick. Can you carry everything inside?”

  With a nod, I used my other free hand to take his bag.

  I dreaded the walk down that hallway again. Silence didn’t imply safety anymore. Just like that room back at the Training Facility, I could sense watching eyes in the shadows. People pressing against their closed doors to listen to my footsteps. Maybe I was paranoid by this point, but I suspected this new sense would protect me.

  The door loomed at the end of hall. Instead of silence, I heard a voice at the far end. It fluctuated in pitch. Enough that it felt like two instead of one. One was sharp—slicing into me. The other bit back with as much furor. Once I stood not more than inches from the door, my hand with the passkey hovered near the scanner. So close, yet I didn’t want to open it, not after I heard what they said.

  Zoe laughed, low and menacing. “My pretty, pretty, new body doesn’t like it when I have company over, do you?”

  “Shut up!”

  “I don’t regret buying you, but I still wonder if picking Tate would’ve been a better choice. She represented infinite possibilities. A stronger mind for me to conquer—but, then again, you’re far prettier. Not too smart, though.”

  “Shut up! You’re not real anymore.”

  Zoe’s voice continued to bounce back and forth. Something dull crashed against the wall.

  “Imagine me away all you want,” she whispered. “What we did last night with Carlton was very much real. He told you he’d do anything to become a member of the Guild. Said that he’d give you—or, I should say, me—everything I’d ever want.”

  My hand with the passkey trembled. My stomach soured. Oh, no, it was true.

  Then Zoe’s voice broke up. Half of her words include vicious taunts from Justina, the other half was a set of words I didn’t expect to hear:

  Bristly twigs will break their backs.

  For any who come, we will attack.

  What once was man is now a mite.

  Be gone from me; go into the night.

  Each time Zoe said the word attack, she spat it from her mouth like a bitter curse. I’d heard that rhyme before. Its history came from when the plagues were at their worst, when the infected went door to door for food and shelter. Children in my village still sang it while dancing in a circle with sticks. One child, who played the infected man—sat in the center and waited to be beaten.

  It took everything I had to swipe the passkey against the scanner. To open the door and witness what occurred inside.

  Zoe sat on the edge of the bed, her face covered in sweat. More blood caked on her lips and chin. A broken lamp lay on the floor in pieces.

  “Zoe?” I whispered.

  She continued to chant. I took a step inside, hoping and praying Justina wouldn’t lash out at me.

  I placed the food off to the side.

  A hand touched my shoulder. I jumped.

  “It’s me,” Tyson hissed.

  Zoe continued to recite her words while I crept toward her. The whole time, I couldn’t help but wonder: was this how I appeared to others? A ticking bomb? A body of contradictions where no one could ever know who was in control?

  I reached her side and sat down next to her. When I touched her shoulder, it was Zoe who collapsed into my arms. My heart clenched. Her body shook with heavy sobs, and I held onto her as if such a thing would protect her from Justina.

  Tyson stood to the side, unable to help.

  Alone. For once, I realized how much I took that word for granted. While I cradled Zoe close, I thought about all the times I’d escaped from Danny and my parents to read alone out on the pier. The sea’s summer breeze felt so warm against my face.

  Here I was, sitting in a room, fighting for the life of my cousin and my own. I’d give almost anything for Zoe and me to be alone again.

  My fingertips went numb. Not now. Not now. Please not right now.

  I turned away from Zoe and whispered a prayer. A prayer for more time and more strength to hold General Dagon at bay. I got off the bed and took a step away from them. With each step, my fear intensified. Like dark storm clouds gathering on the horizon, he wanted to rain down on my consciousness and wash me away. He wanted control again. Even though I tried to bury him, he clawed at me like a festering wound. I couldn’t bury him deep enough.

  Sadly, it wasn’t me who made my mouth speak.

  “What do we have here?” I whispered. “A little hummingbird has escaped her cage.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Tyson stepped in front of Zoe. “Fight him, Tate.”

  I’d stood against the General only a few hours ago, but now attempts to keep him out crumbled. I tried to visualize reinforcements. Bricks climbing on bricks to keep him out. Keep him contained. Buried.

  “Now, now. Do you think I wouldn’t figure out your little plans?” he purred, “that I wouldn’t see the pretty little pink disk you left for me?”

  My blood turned cold, and the fists I clenched released themselves.

  “You really should remember who you’re dealing with,” the General said to me out loud.

  In a fast blur, Tyson tried to grab me in a bear hug. The General dodged him and swung around him to viciously kick him in the gut.

  In the space of the hotel room, Tyson tried to subdue me gently. The General, on the other hand, was less discriminating. For every hesitation, the General made him pay the price.

  “What’s wrong, boy? You afraid to hit a female?” He pointed at my face. “C’mon, I’ll let you have one hit. Are you man enough to take me down?”

  “Shut up! Before I shut your mouth for you.”

  My hand snapped forward, quick as a copperhead snake’s strike, to smack Tyson in the face. Tyson hesitated again—for the final time. Up close, the General directed my foot into Tyson’s crotch. With a groan, he dropped to the ground, cradling himself.

  “Another example of poor training.” The General snatched the las-gun from Tyson’s belt.

  My mouth kept moving. The General never missed an opportunity to gloat. “Did anyone ever tell you how to brace for a hit?” He aimed the las-gun toward Tyson. “I guess not.”

  “Stop it!” The protest didn’t come from Tyson. My gaze fixed on Zoe.

  “Get your hands off him,” she demanded. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  Her smile melded into a choppy laugh. Her wide eyes frightened me. “You lose. She’s gone. Finally.”

  The exuberance on my face collapsed. Dagon advanced at her and grabbed her shoulders. He made me search her eyes. But it wasn’t necessary. All we needed was the touch. A single point of contact to detect her receptiveness. Zoe was now an open book. A vast wilderness waiting to be conquered. Justina Helmquest was no more.

  He released Zoe for a second, and then grasped her hands again. Release. Grab. Release. Grab. His estranged lover was gone.

  “Where is she?” the General screamed. My fingers bit into her arms.

  Zoe cowered under his wrath, eyes shut tightly.

  “Bring her back!” The General made me aim the las-gun at Tyson again.

  “You can hurt as many people as you like,” Zoe said. “But it won’t make any difference. That evil woman is finally burning in hell.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The General tried to hide the
hurt, but I detected the pain under the surface, the boiling rage ready to strike out. We’d all pay for this.

  He pointed to Zoe. “I’ll deal with you later. But first I need to deal with this traitor to the Myrian army.” The General paced a bit before he addressed Tyson. The young soldier’s face reflected indifference. He’d accomplished his goal: Zoe was free.

  “I don’t need a tribunal to kill an enemy of the state.” My voice broke a few times as he spoke. “You die at dawn…”

  He clenched my fists tighter. “By my hand.”

  After a call on Tyson’s wrist-comm, the General’s personal guard arrived not long after. They took Tyson and Zoe away yet he forced my body to stand in that room for the longest time. My gaze focused on the far wall. From the amount of time we stared at it, I could’ve counted every crack, every seam.

  But then as my shoulders shook and a tear fell down my cheek, I sensed his mind weakening. I tried to regain control, but he viciously shoved me back.

  “Don’t try it!” he said icily. “When I get the strength to bury you, and it will be soon, I’ll do to you what was done to Justina. I don’t care if it breaks me. You are done.”

  Once we reached the mansion, news spread quickly of what had happened. Rebecca and Cecelia arrived an hour later. Rebecca took control to help the General subdue me. I could hear the music from Cecelia’s wrist-comm as she played her games, oblivious to my treatment.

  “Come for me at dawn,” he instructed her. “I must rest before I execute the prisoner.” Rebecca helped him use a passcode-protected set of handcuffs. I wish I could see what numbers and digits she pressed, but I wasn’t at the right angle. The General looked away while Rebecca attached the cuffs. They were not your standard regulation pair either. I could only hear the sounds corresponding to each button. By the time she was done, the General relinquished control and she left me chained on the bed. Quite clever, I thought, although, not clever enough. One thing the General had taught me was to be resourceful.