The Survivor

by Dylan Steel

  Instead, she acted on impulse. She would hurt him the same way he’d hurt her.

  “C’mon, Everett,” she murmured, reaching for his hand. She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. His eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

  She pulled Everett forward, brushing past Nic without any acknowledgment. Neither of them said a word as they put some distance between them and the clinic.

  But she could’ve sworn she heard Nic whisper her name as she walked away from him.

  8. USED

  Sage’s legs were shaking as she stepped through the door of the apartment after Everett. She snuck a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. The silence between them had lasted the entire walk home. They’d fought before, but this was different, unnerving.

  “Everett?” she said quietly.

  No response. He went to the cabinet and grabbed a glass, filling it with water from the sink.

  “Everett.” Her brow knitted together as she waited for him to respond. When he still didn’t say anything, she bit her lip worriedly. “Are you ever going to talk to me, or is this just how things are going to be between us now?”

  He stared at her over his glass as he took a slow sip of water.

  His calmness was unnerving. She wanted to scream at him, but somehow she knew there was no point. He wasn’t going to talk until he was ready.

  Stomping to the opposite side of the room, she plunked herself down on the couch and hugged her knees to her chest, glaring at him. There was no point trying to hide how frustrated she was.

  Everett set his glass down on the counter, leaning back with a casualness that irritated her.

  “Is this any different than things have been between us so far?” he asked, tilting his head slightly as he studied her.

  She exhaled in relief. He was finally talking. “Of course it is. This is awful,” she said, on the verge of whining.

  “And before? Were things good?” He raised an eyebrow.

  Sage caught her lip between her teeth, looking down at the floor. Not exactly, she thought.

  “Good to know we’re in agreement,” he said, a hint of irony in his voice.

  “Things weren’t this bad before,” she said quietly, forcing herself to meet his eyes again. “I don’t w—”

  “You held my hand today,” he interrupted.

  She swallowed. So this was what he wanted to talk about. “Yes.”

  “You kissed me.”

  “On the cheek,” she clarified.

  “You’ve never done anything like that before,” he said simply.

  “What about it? We’re paired, right?” she said nonchalantly. Sage cringed inwardly at her own callousness. None of this was his fault, and she was treating him like dirt to make herself feel a little better. It wasn’t working, though. She felt even worse than before.

  Everett paused, frowning. “I know you and Nic were together before—this,” he said, gesturing between them, “—and I know it has to be hard that you aren’t together anymore, but…” he hesitated.

  “What?” Sage prompted, more gently this time.

  Anger flashed behind his eyes, darkening them even more than normal as they met hers. “Don’t ever do that again,” he said firmly.

  Her lips parted in surprise.

  “You don’t have to love me, but you don’t get to use me. Especially not to hurt a friend.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but I don’t want to be in the middle of it.”

  “Nothing ha—”

  “Don’t lie to me, Sage,” he growled. “I’ve never once pushed you in all this, but that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot.”

  Her eyes widened. It’d been awhile since someone called her out on her lies. Was she slipping? The thought unsettled her. What if she got too confident and failed at bluffing the wrong person? She might not get a second chance with someone else.

  “Nic and I are over,” Sage said quietly. “We weren’t at first,” she admitted, dropping her gaze as her cheeks flushed with unexpected shame, “but now…”

  “Something happened.” Everett picked up his glass and took another sip of water. His calmness was infuriating.

  “Yes,” she said through clenched teeth. “But I don’t exactly want to talk about it.”

  A sad smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he tipped his glass toward her. “Now, that I understand.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it with you,” Sage said pointedly.

  “You don’t have to,” he said coldly. He set his glass down again, more loudly this time. “Honestly, Sage, we don’t have to talk about the past at all.”

  “Fine with me.” Sage pushed harder against the corner of the couch, wishing the armrest wasn’t in the way. As much as she wanted to escape the conversation she’d just forced to happen, she couldn’t. She had nowhere else to go.

  Everett hesitated, letting his jaw work back and forth a few times as if he wasn’t finished. Whatever he was about to say, it looked like it was physically painful for him to get it out. He crossed the room, taking a seat beside her on the couch. “We’ve waited longer than we should’ve to talk about the future, though. Our future,” he added quickly.

  Well, that was a new development.

  Sage pressed her lips together in a tight line and shook her head. “Everett,” she said as gently as possible, “you know we don’t have a future together.”

  His brows furrowed. “We don’t have a choice, Sage. We’re paired.”

  At that, her eyes narrowed a little. “We still have some choices,” she said evenly. “And it’s not like you wanted to be paired with me either. We don’t have to—” she stopped when she noticed Everett stiffen.

  “That’s quite the assumption,” he said coolly. “It never occurred to you to ask what I thought about all this, did it?”

  The color drained from her face. “But… you…”

  He sighed, ruffling his hair. “Sage, I’d be crazy not to want to be with you.” The way he said it, it was clear he meant it more as an obvious statement of fact rather than an unexpected declaration of love. She wasn’t exactly sure how she was supposed to react. He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest. “But I know that’s not what you want—you’ve never wanted that, and I don’t expect that to change now. Like I said, I’m not an idiot.”

  “So then, why tell me?” she asked faintly, her head swimming with confusion at this new information.

  “I don’t want to lie to you. Whether you like it or not, we’re still paired. We’re in this together—at least for now.” He shrugged as if it should have been obvious to her. “Besides, we really do need to figure out what we’re doing here.”

  She stared at him blankly. “What do you mean?”

  “Our pairing.” Everett’s eyes shot to hers, then dropped to the ground. His cheeks brightened slightly for the first time since they’d started talking—the first indication he’d given that he was uncomfortable with any of this. “We’ve already wasted almost a month. We don’t have much longer to…”

  “Oh.” Understanding dawned on her. She hadn’t realized he’d been worried about that. In her mind, it had been a foregone conclusion that they’d never be together in that way. They’d just bide their time until interventions were required. And even then, she still might manage to find a way to falsify her test results. It was still possible that they could both get out of this unharmed. Unviolated. “It’s fine, Everett.”

  His eyes widened. “It is?”

  “Yeah.” She shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine waiting out the rest of the three months. Then, they’ll do whatever they have to do to make sure our genes are passed on, and we won’t have to share this apartment anymore.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Of course it is.” She glared at him. “They have the tech to do that. If you think I’m—”

  “They have the tech,” Everett int
errupted, lines of worry creasing his face, “but it’s expensive. If they have to use it, it’ll cost us.”

  Something in his tone chilled her. She swallowed back the sense of dread he’d just planted somewhere deep inside her.

  “So, what, are you saying we won’t have enough credits to get out of here after our duty’s over?” She clenched her jaw. That wouldn’t be an issue. If she needed to, she could go to the Kunbriat. They’d help her leave this place—not that she could tell Everett that. “I mean, obviously, I don’t really want to stay here forever, but it’s not so awful that we can’t—”

  “Not credits, Sage.” His voice was almost a whisper. “Our Chances would be almost completely drained.”

  She paled. “What? Why?”

  He exhaled slowly before answering. “Think about it. What’s our worth to Eprah if we can’t even provide the next generation?”

  “I don’t understand. What are you saying?” In truth, she understood exactly what he was saying. She just didn’t want to believe it was true.

  “It’s our first, most basic responsibility as citizens. They give us every opportunity to fulfill our duty—even boost our fertility—but if we don’t…” he paused, finishing feebly, “…there’ll be consequences.”

  Sage sat in stunned silence, mulling over what he’d just told her. Her choices had been limited before, but now she felt the last traces of her freedom being ripped from her.

  Obey or die. That was her choice.

  “H-how do you know this?” she finally managed to ask.

  “The nurse explained it.” Everett shrugged. “She asked if I was excited to find out whether or not you were pregnant, and I just said I knew you wouldn’t be.” He frowned. “She didn’t seem very happy about that, and she asked what made me so sure, so I—” He stopped when he saw the look on Sage’s face.

  Her eyes narrowed accusingly. “You told them we weren’t… doing our duty?”

  “Well, yeah.” He scratched the back of his head. “I didn’t see the harm in it.”

  “Seriously?” She rolled her eyes. Of course he didn’t. Everett was naive. Trusting. He hadn’t spent his whole life looking over his shoulder, guarding every word that came out of his mouth.

  “Oh, come on. Like they didn’t already know.” His eyes flicked up to the small obsidian hemisphere on their ceiling, then back to hers. It was such a fast movement that she almost missed it. “Eprah knows you were with Nic before we were assigned to each other. It shouldn’t surprise anyone that it would take you awhile to warm up to the idea of being with someone else.”

  Her mouth fell open. Maybe he wasn’t as naive as she’d thought.

  Everett leaned forward, cradling his head in his hands. “I’m not saying we have to do anything you don’t want to do, but you need to know there are consequences. For both of us,” he mumbled. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “We’ll both be down to our last Chance—and my last Chance won’t be protected by a pregnancy at the end of all this.”

  Sage stared at him in disbelief. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. If either of them decided not to perform their citizenly duties, Everett would be practically condemned to death. There was no way he could survive almost a year in Eprah, waiting until his birthday for a new influx of Chances. She almost couldn’t believe he was actually presenting that as an option. For her.

  “I… I need to think about this,” she said, tucking her hands under her arms. They were shaking more than ever before.

  “Of course.” Everett nodded, standing. “Just… Please don’t take too long to decide,” he said quietly. He walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

  Sage’s eyes stayed rooted to the spot he’d just vacated. There wasn’t much privacy in this apartment, but he’d just given her what little space he could.

  Her stomach clenched, then churned in revulsion. If she complied with Eprah’s demands, she’d lose the true last piece of herself, of her freedom. But if she didn’t, Everett would be living on borrowed time, and she’d still wind up carrying his child—and the guilt of knowing she’d be responsible for his severely shortened lifespan.

  One way or another, Eprah was going to shred every last hope she clung to and condemn her to suffer more terribly than she’d ever imagined.

  9. THE INTERROGATOR

  The Transfer shot upward, leaving Sage’s stomach on the third floor. Eric wasn’t with her this time—she’d been on her own for the better part of a week now. Granted, Eric had promised she could ask for help if she needed it, but she could tell he was eager to be rid of her. Another week and they’d consider her fully trained—not that she was looking forward to it. The sooner she was on her own, the sooner she would have to start rotating through the overnight shifts that the seasoned techs didn’t want.

  Sage’s knuckles were white along the edges of her databook as she stepped onto the fourth floor. Of course, her first solo trip would be to the interrogations wing instead of the ground floor. Nothing could ever be simple.

  Glancing back down at the tablet, she tapped the screen to pull up the req order. Her brow furrowed as she tried to figure out which direction she was supposed to go.

  Right… probably.

  Biting her lip, she turned down the hallway, keeping her eyes open for the interrogator’s office. That was supposed to be where she’d find the broken tech table.

  As she walked by an open doorway, she glanced inside one of the interrogation rooms and shuddered. Being outside the room didn’t make her nearly so dizzy as if she’d stepped through the door, but she still had to pause for a moment and squeeze her eyes shut before continuing on. She hated this floor. Granted, it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as the secret prison in the sublevels, but it still gave her the creeps.

  She knew she was getting closer when she heard a series of thumping sounds coming from a room at the end of the hallway. Frowning, she hurried toward the noise. It would be just her luck if an officer was trying to fix his own tech. That had already happened once since she’d been working at the Peace, and the officer had managed to take a perfectly usable tech table and transform it into something beyond repair. Fortunately, Eric had been with her to approve the write-off.

  Reaching the source of the noise, Sage stopped just outside the door. A hulking figure was bent in half, crouched behind the main tech table, fiddling with something underneath it. Maybe the power source? She couldn’t tell—he was partially obscured by the chair still swinging in circles behind his desk.

  Great timing, Indarra, she chided herself. He probably just started destroying the tech right before you showed up.

  She waited in the doorway for a moment, hoping he would stand back up. Or sit back down. Whatever. She just wanted him to stop what he was doing and leave her alone to do her job. Please move, she silently begged.

  When he bumped into the table and raised it half a foot off the ground without so much as lifting his head, she realized she could be waiting awhile. Swallowing back her fear, Sage cleared her throat loudly. “Excuse me, I—”

  At the first sound of her voice, the man instantly straightened and turned toward her. “Hi.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Boulder?”

  “In the flesh, firecracker.” Her fellow Kunbriat grinned, patting his torso.

  “I didn’t realize you worked here.”

  “Ah, that’s right.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We never did get a chance to talk about that, did we?”

  Sage glanced around uneasily. “You work on this floor?”

  He nodded. “Promoted a few months back.”

  “Congratulations,” she said without a hint of enthusiasm. Boulder seemed alright, but his employment here left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  “Yeah… I was a bit more excited than that when I found out.” He gave her an odd look.

  “Sorry, I—” She forced herself to relax a little, letting out a small laugh. “I get pretty focused on getting my work done while I’m here.”
<
br />   “Do you, now?”

  She shrugged. It was partly true. “It’s usually easier than sticking around while the vultures circle,” she admitted candidly.

  “That’s too bad. I was hoping you’d stick around here a little while.” His hazel eyes lit up with the promise of mischief. “I’ll try my hardest not to be a vulture,” he said seriously.

  “That’d be good,” Sage said, shifting her weight. “So, uh… What were you doing under there?” She gestured toward the tech table.

  “Oh, that.” The corner of his mouth ticked up in a grin. “Just tryin’a break it before you showed up.”

  “What?” A look of horror flashed over her face as she rushed over to where he was standing. “Why would you—” She started to bend down and examine the power source, but he caught her arm before she could move any lower.

  “Kidding, firecracker.” He let go of her, grinning. “Sorta. I mean, the table’s not really broken at all, but I had to turn it off to make the req look legit. What you walked in on was me trying to turn it back on.” His forehead wrinkled as he looked at her seriously. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get to the power whatsits on these things?”

  “I have a bit of an idea, yeah,” she said dryly as she glanced him over. He was even bigger than she’d realized at first, a fact that was very apparent now that she was standing right in front of him. “Though I might be at a slight advantage. I’m a little less… cumbersome than you are.”

  Boulder let out a low rumble of laughter. “Most people are.” He wiggled his eyebrows as he gave his pecs a quick flex.

  Crossing her arms, she leaned against the table. “So you wanna tell me why you went through all this trouble to see me? You knew we worked in the same place. You could’ve just asked to see me.”

  “Eh, where’s the fun in that?”

  She shook her head in mock disapproval and gave him a slight shove backward. “I’m fixing your problem right now, Boulder.”