The Survivor

by Dylan Steel

  Something strong clamped around her elbow, whirling her around. She grabbed for her bracelet but froze when she came face to face with her pair.

  “Everett!” she gasped.

  “Didn’t you hear me calling your name?”

  “No, sorry—I didn’t.”

  He pulled her into his arms, squeezing her tightly. Her hair fluttered beneath his breath, and she instantly felt herself relaxing against him, wondering why she’d been avoiding this moment.

  “I’ve been so worried,” he murmured, then finally stepped back. His eyes were full of concern as they searched hers. “I thought—I thought something might have happened.”

  Sage shook her head and looked away for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “What are you doing here?”

  “You never came home. I’ve been looking for you all day. I skipped work to—”

  “You skipped work?” Sage’s features tightened in distress.

  “I was worried about you.”

  “You said that already.”

  “That just means it’s true.” His shoulders sagged a little as he looked at her. “Sage?”

  “I was only gone for a day,” she said quickly, sensing his concern.

  “Nearly two, actually.” Everett swallowed, looking at her intensely. “Would it have been longer? If I hadn’t come looking for you?”

  “I… I don’t know.” She pulled on a loose strand of her hair, rolling it between her fingers, refusing to meet his eyes. “Maybe,” she admitted.

  “Is it—did I do something wrong?”

  His voice was dripping with pain, and it nearly killed her. She tried to choke down all the emotions that crashed against her, but she failed miserably. Her eyes filled with tears as she clenched her teeth, unable to speak.

  “Hey—hey,” he pulled her around the corner, giving them a little more privacy. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry.”

  “You… didn’t…” She barely managed to get anything out before breaking down completely.

  Everett gathered her into his arms again, resting his chin on top of her head as he spoke. “I love you, Sage. I have for a long time, but I knew you weren’t there, and I didn’t want to scare you. But after the other night…” he trailed off. He leaned back, looking at her expectantly.

  “Do—” he began hesitantly, “—do you love me? You don’t have to,” he said hurriedly, his face twisting in anguish even as he tried to reassure her. “Is that what this is about?”

  Tears fell down her cheeks. “I don’t know. I-I think I might, but…” Her hands flew to her temples, clutching tightly at her hair. “How am I supposed to know for sure when they’re messing with my head?”

  He stiffened. “What?”

  “They put something inside me—I told you—the injection—th-they took away my choices, and—they made me—” she gasped for breath, choking on her own tears.

  “What are you saying?” Everett’s fingers dug into her shoulders. His cheeks had lost a shade of color.

  Sage lifted her eyes to his blurry face, needing a couple deep breaths before she could answer him. “The extra injection. It wasn’t for fertility.” She swallowed. The queasiness was back. “She said it was to help me relax—to make me more—to make it easier for us to…” She bit her lip, dropping her eyes as more tears fell.

  Everett’s hands fell from her shoulders. “It—it wasn’t really you,” he said flatly. “You didn’t want—and I—” He stopped and swore. Sage flinched when she heard a scraping sound followed by a primal growl erupting from his throat. His fist slammed against the wall, pounding it over and over again with a sickening thud.

  “Everett, stop. Please,” she pleaded, grabbing his arm before he could pummel it into any bloodier a mess. “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have told you—”

  He jerked his arm back. “No, Sage. You should’ve. They shouldn’t have screwed with your head like that.” Agony ripped across his features again. “I should’ve known. I’m so sorry. You told me they did something different, and—I should’ve known.”

  “You couldn’t have,” she said gently. “I’m not mad at you. I promise. You even asked… I didn’t know until today when I went to the appointment and—” she hesitated, remembering what she really needed to tell him, “—Eprah’s name. Everett, I’m pregnant.”

  Surprise and worry and relief and excitement all flitted over his face in an instant. “You’re…”

  She bit her lip, nodding. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

  His eyes lit up as his arms flew around her, lifting her off her feet. He twirled her through the air before setting her back down. Leaning his forehead against hers, he whispered against her lips, “We’re gonna have a baby.”

  Fresh tension drained from her shoulders. It was ridiculous, really—they’d both known what could happen, what they wanted to happen—but she’d still been worried about telling him.

  “We should have more Chances now. I mean, I still need to check tomorrow at work, but the nurse said—” She stopped abruptly when she noticed Everett was frowning. “What?”

  “I don’t care about that.”

  “Ok, but…” Sage’s brows dipped in confusion, “… that’s what we wanted. That’s part of why—”

  “That wasn’t why I wanted to be with you, Sage. I need you to know that.”

  She touched his arm gently. “Ok, but if we hadn’t, neither one of us would have made it much longer. We might not even be having this conversation right now.”

  “I’ve told you. Surviving’s not enough.” His eyes darkened with anger.

  “I’m not saying I didn’t want it for other reasons too,” she added hastily, “just that—I mean—it might’ve happened a bit differently if Eprah hadn’t intervened.” She bit her lip nervously, waiting for his reaction.

  “I hate them. I hate them for that,” he growled. “They stole that certainty from you—from us. They had no right.”

  “Everett—”

  “Eprah’s all wrong. Everything they do is wrong.” He ran a hand down his face. “I know you know it’s true. The Lawless know it too. That’s why we’re fighting.”

  “Everett, you can’t—” Her eyes widened. “You said ‘we.’”

  “The Lawless aren’t just sitting around, waiting for things to get better. I’m going to live the best life I can for as long as I can, no matter the cost.”

  “I don’t trust the Lawless,” she whispered. “Do you know how high that cost really is? Have they told you?”

  He reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s the only one I’m willing to pay. And the connections have already been helpful—how do you think I found you?”

  She swallowed, glancing up and down the alley to make sure they were really alone. “You shouldn’t have…”

  A muscle in his jaw tensed. “I was really worried that… I thought you were gone. What else was I supposed to do?”

  “Go to work. Wait for me to come back.” Her eyes were pleading with him in silent agreement with her words. “Survive. I know you want more, but I—we—” she pointed to her stomach, “—need you to survive.”

  “Sage. We can live,” he whispered. “We don’t have to turn our baby over to Eprah. We don’t have to be stuck in this system. We don’t have to settle.”

  “Exactly how are we supposed to do that?” she asked, growing angry. “We don’t have a choice. You know how the zeptobes work—they figure out our intentions. They wouldn’t let us set foot outside the gates if we weren’t planning to come back. We have to stay—to find a way to make the best of this.”

  “You want us to stay? Then we can stay. And fight. Together.”

  “Everett.”

  “—or we can find a way to get out,” he continued quickly. “You, me, the baby—we can get out of here and never look back. I’m sure the people I’ve met could help us do that if that’s what you want. They owe you that much after—”

  “Everett!” Sage took a step backward, fea
r in her eyes. “You can’t say this kind of stuff. I can’t…” … fix it, she thought.

  Granted, she was a tech, but there was almost always someone else in the room with her at the Peace. And even if she managed to find a moment alone, she had no idea how to access the systems like she would need to—not since Eprah had discovered that the security feeds had been tampered with and changed the protocols.

  He snapped his mouth shut, staring at her. “I don’t need you to protect me, Sage,” he finally said, more than a little miffed at what she was implying.

  She shook her head. “It’s not just you. You should know this by now. If you say this kind of thing—if you tell me you’re Lawless—and I don’t report you, I’ll be in just as much trouble as you. They’ll kill both of us.”

  “That’s only if someone hears this conversation. They won’t.”

  “But you don’t know that. Someone could be watching us right now and—”

  “I do know that, Sage,” he said firmly. The certainty in his tone made her heart skip a beat.

  “What makes you so sure?” she asked faintly. She had a feeling she already knew the answer.

  He shrugged. “You’re not the only good tech in this city. And I’m not the first person to join the Lawless.”

  Sage put her hands to her head, rubbing her temples. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking me to do.”

  “So tell me.”

  She shook her head. Talking about this would just reopen old wounds. The Lawless had used her, and she’d walked away, unwittingly taking some of them down in the process. Even though she hadn’t really intended to hurt them or their cause, that didn’t do much to quell her guilt.

  “Can we please just talk about something else? Anything else? Please?”

  “The conversation’s not over.”

  She looked at him pleadingly.

  He sighed, frustrated. “If you promise to at least think about what I said.”

  Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “Fine.”

  Everett nodded, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “There is something else I wanted to ask you.”

  “What?”

  “I couldn’t figure it out at first,” he said softly. “Where I’d seen it before.”

  Sage wrinkled her brow. “Seen what?”

  Everett reached out, pulling her closer. He lowered his hand to her waist, then slowly trailed it to her hip, resting it over top of her brand. Her cheeks burned. She looked away, swallowing hard.

  “I didn’t think you’d noticed it. You didn’t say anything when we…”

  His frown stopped her from finishing her thought.

  “It was part of the message. That night that you went to see Nic.” His other hand slid under her chin, turning her head gently so that she was facing him. His eyes were darker than normal. “Did he do this to you?” he demanded, anger simmering dangerously near the surface.

  “What?” Her eyes widened. “No. Nic would never—” she stopped. In fact, Nic had branded other Kunbriat—just not her. “No, he didn’t do it.”

  “You can tell me the truth, Sage. If he hurt you…” he growled, leaving the threat hanging in the air between them.

  “Everett, I promise you. Nic never hurt me like that.” She placed her hand over his, leaning into him more deeply as she met his fiery gaze, waiting until he relaxed.

  “Ok.” He ground his teeth, conflicted. He wasn’t ready to let it drop. “So how did it happen?”

  “Would you believe it was a freak accident when I was little?” she asked hopefully.

  His eyes narrowed. “No.”

  She blew out an unsteady breath. “Everett, I-I can’t.”

  “Would you rather I ask Nic?”

  “No,” she said, a little too quickly.

  “So he does have something to do with it.” Everett shook his head in disbelief. “You almost had me. I almost believed you.”

  “I’m not lying. I didn’t say he had nothing to do with it,” she snapped. “I said he didn’t do it to me.”

  “Then who did?”

  Sage looked away, chewing the inside of her cheek uncertainly.

  A determined look spread over his face. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll just go ask him.”

  “No, don’t—” She grabbed his arm, stopping him before he could leave. “Please just drop it.”

  “I let it drop while I was looking for you—when I thought you were dead. But now I know you’re safe, and one of you is giving me some answers.” Everett shot her a dangerous look, and she recoiled in surprise.

  “Please—please stop.”

  “Sage, somebody hurt you, and I’m not okay with that. If you won’t tell me what happened, I’ll find out some other way.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. “If I tell you, you’re as good as dead. And so am I.”

  “I think you’re forgetting that I have some tech connections now,” he said dully. “No one’s going to know what we said here today,” his eyes bored into hers, “so tell me who did this to you, or I’ll find someone who will.”

  Her heart sank. He wasn’t backing down. And if he asked Nic about this, Nic would probably kill him on sight.

  She shook her head. “Who did it isn’t important. I allowed it to happen. What it means is the important part.”

  “So what does it mean?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  She sucked in a breath, hardly able to believe what she was about to say. “It’s proof. Proof that I’m a member of the Kunbriat.”

  He frowned. “The what?”

  “The Kunbriat.” She grimaced. “It’s a bunch of people who think they’re better than everyone else. We’re all supposed to have each other’s backs, band together, protect each other, blah, blah, blah. All in the name of serving Eprah. It’s supposed to be a way to make sure that no one great gets cut down too early.”

  His eyebrow shot up. “Sounds like a great life choice,” he said sarcastically.

  “I didn’t have a choice.” She glared at him, crossing her arms. “They told me I could join a group of people that could one day save my life—or if I refused, they’d kill me as soon as I graduated. What would you have done?”

  “Why would they kill you?” He looked horrified.

  “Because no one’s supposed to know about them. The Kunbriat would never work if everyone knew about them. We don’t have numbers on our side, just being the ‘best.’ Other people could band together instead, and it’d probably be a whole lot more effective. If they wanted, they could eliminate the competition, take out us Kunbriat one by one.” Her shoulders sagged. “To them, it’s a secret worth killing for.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Why would you ask to join?”

  “Haven’t you been listening?” Sage snapped. “I didn’t. Someone nominated me and took away yet another one of my choices.” She snorted, shaking her head. “He thought he was doing me a favor.”

  “Some favor,” he grunted. “Who was it?”

  “That doesn’t matter anymore.” She paused, shooting him a contemptuous look. “The only reason I told you was because Nic would’ve killed you—and then the Kunbriat would have to come after me.”

  Everett was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he said finally.

  “I know you are, but don’t ever do that again.” Her hands trembled with anger as she poked him in the chest. “I care about you. I have no idea why right now, but I actually do. Don’t ever force me to risk both our lives for no good reason.”

  He stiffened. “I thought I was protecting you.”

  “Rox, Everett.” She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, blowing out a slow breath. “Maybe you should trust me a little bit more.”

  “Ok, but—”

  “—but?”

  His eyes darkened. “Don’t ever ask me not to protect you.”

  Sage’s expression softened. “Ok.”

  22. CELEBRATION

  As much as she tried, Sage couldn’t stop herself from grinning as she stepped into the ca
fé. Today, no crazy injections were messing with her mind, dictating how she should feel or act. She knew without a doubt that she was looking forward to seeing Everett—that she actually did love him. That reassurance was an incredible relief after all her recent uncertainties.

  It hadn’t been long since they’d found out she was pregnant, only a couple weeks, but Everett had already been doing everything he could to let her know how excited he was—surprising her with her favorite breakfast, getting a fresh strawberry for each of them, transferring some of his extra credits to her for the wardrobe she’d need—in several months, she’d reminded him—and most recently, promising to meet her after work tonight for a special dinner to celebrate.

  She’d barely been able to concentrate all day. It was all she could do to tear her thoughts away from the fact that she was going to have a baby. Excitement, terror, and every emotion in between consumed her every waking thought. She already felt fiercely protective of the tiny life inside her, and she was wracking her brain trying to come up with a way to keep it safe from Eprah and its horrors.

  The Kunbriat wouldn’t help her. They existed with the sole purpose of serving Eprah, and surrendering this baby to the Institution was part of that service. Her only real options were to put her faith in the Lawless again or to figure out a way to escape Eprah altogether—to become Rogue. Both were incredibly risky for both her and the baby. But then, playing by all of Eprah’s rules was an entirely different type of danger, one that sentenced them to a future of mere survival at best.

  None of her options were really safe.

  Shoving those thoughts aside, she gave herself permission to focus on the present. In this moment, it was ok to just be happy, to enjoy a simple dinner with a guy who—despite her initial resistance—had actually turned out to be pretty great. She felt herself falling for him a little more every day. Life in Eprah wasn’t exactly filled with joy, and she was determined to make the most of the good things when she could.

  Pausing just inside the doorway, she scanned the room for Everett. He wasn’t there. She wasn’t terribly surprised—she was early, and she knew there was a chance he’d have to work late to make up for some of the hours he’d missed in the past week.