Annihilation: A YA dystopian adventure (The Mind Breaker Series Book 3)

by Marina Epley

  “We’ll see,” she growls, throwing her pillow.

  I catch the pillow and pick up the book from the floor. I approach Marian, and she screams.

  “C’mon, knock it off,” I say, placing the pillow and the book beside her. “We both know you’re not really scared of me.”

  Marian doesn’t answer.

  “Rebecca had a lot of good things to say about you,” I say. “I was very proud of you. I still am.”

  My sister stares intently into space.

  I return to the dining room, thinking about her. I wonder whether she will ever heal. Emily used to pour out her violence and hatred on me, while I was around. She must have turned on Marian after I left.

  A couple hours later Chase enters the dining area, looking rattled. We all turn to face him.

  “The information was correct,” he announces. “We found and confronted the terrorists. They’re all dead.”

  “You killed all of them?” I ask in surprise. I don’t mind, but I expected Vogel to spare a few for interrogation.

  “No,” Chase answers. “They shot themselves before we had a chance to capture anybody.”

  ***

  “I don’t get it,” Marcus says during supper. “Why would they do that?”

  “They might have been programmed to commit suicide in case of capture,” Victor suggests. “Guardian could have used hypnosis for that particular deed.”

  I get a sensation of déjà vu. I recall an officer blowing his brains out a moment before I could corner him.

  “Hypnosis doesn’t work that way, does it?” Dave wonders. “You can’t program somebody to kill himself.”

  I remember fantasizing about killing myself, pressing the gun barrel to my head.

  “It’s possible,” I answer. “Hypnosis can have lingering after-effects.”

  “I think those terrorists were hiding something,” Chase says. “They preferred killing themselves to being taken alive. Perhaps they didn’t want to reveal information about a second group of terrorists active in the city. Vogel subscribes to this theory.”

  I realize it’s a likely scenario. Guardian could potentially have planted several terrorist cells in the city. It means nothing is over. We may have to deal with additional acts of terror.

  “I still don’t get it,” Marcus repeats. “Why bother with all the conspiracy and sending in terrorists. Guardian has more than enough soldiers to take this city, doesn’t he? Why not just overrun us?”

  “He’s a sadist who enjoys the process,” I answer. “He perceives this war as a grand play, one he’s staged. I guess he doesn’t want everything to be over too quickly. In addition, he’s a mega control freak obsessed with leadership. He likes to put people on their knees. So if he just marches in and kills everybody, he won’t have anybody to torture and submit to his will.”

  Marcus frowns, a puzzled expression on his face.

  “Maybe Guardian still entertains hopes that you’ll join him,” Chase says, looking at me.

  “Maybe so,” I answer. “But it’s not happening.”

  “I wonder why not,” Chase questions.

  I turn to him. “What do you mean?”

  “Why didn’t you join him?” he wonders. “He offered you a pretty sweet deal.”

  “Would you make such a deal?” I ask.

  “Of course not, but I’m not a breaker.”

  I become silent for a while, not quite sure whether to punch Chase or let it slide. Is that what he really thinks about me?

  “Jerk,” I answer.

  I expect him to snap back, but Chase doesn’t reply. The room becomes quiet, and I can now distinctly hear the protestors shouting outside. We now have two different groups of people raging out there. The first group consists of our traditional haters, ones who throw rocks at the windows and demand all breakers to leave. The second group arrived just this morning, supporting us and expressing gratitude for helping defend the city. The protestors became more active, confronting the supporters. So we now have to listen to their shouting and whistling all day long.

  “Stinking terrorists!” I hear them yell. “Go home, breakers!”

  Kitty groans, approaching the window. She opens it up, sticks her head outside and yells back, “We don’t have a home!”

  “Stop it, Kitty,” I say. “Get away from the window.”

  She’s not listening. She continues shouting at the protestors, and they shout right back, getting more agitated. Dave joins her.

  “These breakers are good!” he yells, sticking his head out. “They’re friends! They help us!”

  “Traitor!” somebody shouts at him.

  “What did you call me?” Dave bursts out.

  “Get away from the window, idiot!” his brother commands.

  “They’re insulting my friends!” Dave snaps back at Marcus.

  I get to my feet, intent on dragging both Kitty and Dave away from the window. But I’m too late, as they both rush out of the room, shouting how they’re going to straighten out those protestors. I run after them, commanding them to stop. Marcus follows, loudly cursing his brother. We all exit outside, facing the protestors.

  Only a few officers hold the ground between the prison entrance and the crowd. Upon seeing Kitty and Dave, several people lunge forward, quickly overwhelming the guards. Dave jumps in against one of the overly aggressive protestors, knocking him down. Others grab him along with Kitty, throwing them to the ground. Most of these people probably don’t intend to cause any real harm to anybody, but their current state of agitation pushes them overboard. I don’t think they fully realize what they’re doing at the moment.

  I charge into the people swarming over Kitty. I kick and push them off while simultaneously projecting my thoughts, but manage to put only a couple of them under.

  “Get back!” I yell. “Let her go!”

  Somebody throws a stone. It smacks me squarely in the forehead. I don’t feel any pain, but somehow end up lying on my back. Multiple arms grab hold and begin dragging me off.

  A cold blast of water knocks the protestors off. They let out yells of surprise, and begin to recede. I scramble to my feet, looking around. A squad of officers led by Vogel carry hoses, shooting water into the crowd. The protestors and supporters alike quickly disperse.

  Kitty sits a few feet away, dazed. I help her up and lead her back inside. Once we pass the entrance, I grab Kitty by her shoulders, yelling, “What the hell were you thinking?!”

  Kitty stares back at me in utter horror.

  “Your head is bleeding,” she says.

  I touch my forehead and look at my fingers. They’re stained with blood. I sit down on the floor, overcome by dizziness. The wound suddenly begins hurting, and a bit of nausea rises in my throat.

  “I’m so sorry,” Kitty sobs, kneeling beside me.

  “I’m fine,” I say. “I’ve been through worse.”

  Marcus enters the building, dragging his brother in tow and smacking his head. Dave mumbles something incoherent, having the look of a whipped dog.

  Vogel and Chase approach. Kitty lets out a whimper, taking cover behind my back. Vogel glares at me.

  “What were you thinking, Rex?” she asks, repeating my own question. “Were you really going to take on that raging crowd of protestors? I believe you know better than that. There’s a certain protocol to follow in such cases.”

  I don’t answer. Vogel sighs, looking me over.

  “Chase, lead our Beta subject to the infirmary,” she commands.

  Chase tightly grabs my elbow, helping me up. “Easy now, breaker.”

  He leads me along the passageway. Kitty doesn’t follow, probably being too ashamed to face me.

  A doctor examines my wound and provides several stitches.

  “Just like the good old days,” Chase comments, laughing. I’m getting really tired with him.

  The officers managed to restrain and lock up some of the more aggressive protestors, so I decide to pay one a visit. I wonder whether I can c
hange his mind about hating breakers. Chase shakes his head in obvious disapproval of the idea, but doesn’t argue. As we proceed down toward the cellblock, Marcus joins us.

  “What does Elimination intend to do with the new inmates?” I ask.

  “Vogel will probably order them shot,” Chase answers.

  “What?!” I exclaim.

  “I’m just joking,” he says, laughing. “We’ll send them to clear debris. Have them do something useful besides all that yelling.”

  Chase seems surprised that I fell for his joke. But what else can I expect from Elimination? Executing prisoners is something they’ve been doing for a long time.

  The handcuffed protestor begins shouting insults as soon as we enter the cell. He’s a young guy about my age, filled with anger and hatred. I remain silent, letting him say whatever he’s got on his mind. The guy rages for ten solid minutes, mostly repeating the same stuff. He believes all breakers to be merciless killers and terrorists.

  “I agree that there are plenty of evil breakers in the world,” I say calmly after the guy finally quiets down. “But not all breakers are the same. Our group came to help defend this city from Guardian’s army.”

  “I’ll never trust any breaker,” the guy blurts out. “You’re all terrorists!”

  “The first acts of terror were organized by ordinary people,” I protest. “Warden Browning and Captain Wheeler were responsible.”

  “That’s a lie!” he shouts, and begins with another round of outrageous insults. I listen for a while before deciding that I’m wasting my time. No matter what I say, I won’t change his mind. He’s a hater.

  We leave the cell, walking back in gloomy silence.

  “So what do you make of all this?” Chase asks me.

  “Nothing,” I answer.

  “All those insults don’t bother you?” he wonders.

  “Why should they? I actually agree with him on a few matters. I think it would be a much better world if breakers never existed.”

  Chase and Marcus both stare at me, open-mouthed.

  “Well, I must admit I’ve never heard a breaker say anything like that before,” Chase says.

  “Well, enjoy it,” I answer.

  “Rex, you’re a true Elimination officer,” Marcus comments.

  “Breakers aren’t freaks,” Chase says. “It’s just you, Rex. I think you’re the main problem. Remember the day I captured you?”

  I nod. It would be a hard day to forget.

  “If I could travel back in time, I’d let you slip away,” Chase says. “All this crap started right after Elimination captured you.”

  He smiles, obviously joking. But I wonder whether there’s not some grain of truth in his words. I’m the one who organized Retaliation and executed the Elimination leaders. Although I’m not a terrorist as the protestor claimed, the blood of too many people are on my hands.

  ***

  The night before our mission I see Chelsey in my dreams. We’re back at the parade, pushing through a crowd of breakers. I tightly grip her wrist, dragging her toward safety. But no matter what I do or where we go, Chelsey always winds up dead. I repeatedly find myself dragging her stiffened corpse along behind me. I look into her deadened, glazed eyes and Chelsey suddenly whispers, “Alex.”

  I can’t understand how she knows my real name.

  I awaken to a light knocking at the door and a soft girlish whimper. It’s still dark, and Kitty sleeps peacefully beside me.

  “Alex,” Marian sobs from outside the room.

  Worried, I jump off the bed and approach the door.

  “What’s happened?” I ask.

  “I feel bad,” she answers, crying.

  I get a flashback of our speaking through the closed door years ago. Marian was begging me to stay, and I promised to come back and steal her away from Emily.

  “Just a second,” I say. “I’m coming.”

  I hurriedly put on my pants and open the door, walking into the corridor. My sister is sitting in the hallway on the floor, like a broken doll. Her head lolls to the side and her face is wet from tears. She’s barefoot and wearing only underwear with a t-shirt. I notice several old scars along the top of her thighs.

  “I feel bad,” she repeats, shivering.

  “You’ll catch cold,” I sigh.

  I grab my jacket and wrap it around her.

  “C’mon, let’s get you back to your room,” I say, pulling her up.

  Marian can’t walk. She must have completely worn herself out from crying. I have to carry her the entire way. She whimpers weakly. I put her to bed and cover her with a blanket. I wet a washcloth and wipe her face. My sister stares back at me with big empty eyes.

  “I’m just like her, Alex,” she whimpers miserably. “I’m the same way sick.”

  “You’re nothing like her,” I say.

  “What’s wrong with me?” Marian questions. “Why do I always have to be so obnoxious and nasty?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with you,” I say, stroking her hair. “Relax now. Get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  She clutches my wrist, holding on tightly.

  “Don’t leave me,” she pleads like a scared five-year-old. “Please, stay here at least until I fall asleep. I’m still afraid of the dark. Monsters are hiding there. Don’t you believe me?”

  I think about Wheeler and Browning. I remember Roger and his gang.

  “I believe you,” I say. “I think I’ve even met a few of them.”

  “Are you frightened of them, too?”

  “Nah. I kill monsters.”

  “Have you killed all of them?”

  I think about Guardian and Hammer. I envision soldiers shooting the prisoners back in the Death Camp.

  “There’s a few still left,” I admit.

  Marian becomes quiet, still holding onto my wrist. I sit on the edge of her bed, watching over her and waiting for her to fall asleep. Just as I always did when she was little.

  “Alex, do you ever feel like killing yourself?” Marian asks.

  “No,” I lie. “Never.

  “I feel like that all the time.”

  I don’t know how to answer. I look at her bare arm, covered with multiple old scars.

  “It’s ugly, isn’t it?” Marian asks, frowning.

  “Nah, it’s all right,” I answer. “I have much worse scars.”

  “I’m a fake cutter,” she says. “I didn’t do it because I wanted to cut or hurt myself. I did it because I wanted to hurt... her."

  "Why?”

  “Emily wanted me to be beautiful and sweet. So I made myself nasty and ugly. I wanted her to hate me, because I couldn’t take her love anymore.”

  I remember Emily throwing me against the wall. Falling, I hit my head, smearing the wall with blood. Then I had to go beg her for forgiveness.

  “She once shoved me outside into the cold and locked the door,” Marian says. “I was only wearing a nightgown. I spent all night outside by the door, crying and pleading for her to let me in. I was about ten.”

  “I’m very sorry,” I whisper.

  “I hated her,” my sister says. “And I couldn’t get along without her. I was always running away and coming back.” She looks at me, puzzled. “Why do I miss her so much, Alex? How can you hate and love somebody so much at the same time?”

  “I don’t really know,” I admit.

  Marian stares into the dark, still and quiet again. I watch her. She catches my gaze and our eyes lock for a few moments.

  “I’m so sorry I left you,” I suddenly say. “But I’m back now. Just tell me how I can help. Is here anything at all I can do to make you feel better?”

  “Tell me a story,” she says.

  “What story?”

  “You know. The one about dinosaurs.”

  I can’t help from smiling. My sister really is full of surprises. One day she fantasizes about becoming a stripper, and the next she wants to hear a childish fairy tale. I begin telling our made up story about
a magic land with dinosaurs. It’s the same one I used to tell her when she was little.

  Listening, she closes her eyes and her face relaxes. She finally calms down enough and falls asleep. I watch her for a few more minutes before quietly leaving the room.

  Back in our quarters, I find Kitty sitting on the bed. She’s fully awake and worried.

  “Is Marian all right?” she asks.

  I nod, although I doubt that any of us are fully okay.

  “She’s sick, isn’t she?” Kitty asks in a sad voice.

  “A little, I guess,” I answer, getting back into bed. “She’s been through a lot.”

  “We’ve all been through a lot,” Kitty sighs. “You know that your sister loves you, don’t you?”

  “I hope so.”

  “Of course, she does. That’s why she’s so mean to you. She’s just scared.”

  “Scared of what?”

  “That she’s not good enough for you.”

  I remain silent for a few moments, thinking about Emily. Letting her hurt you was the only way to receive her love. That’s the life my sister got used to.

  “That’s nonsense,” I say.

  “Sometimes I worry about the same thing,” Kitty confesses.

  “That’s even more nonsense,” I assure her.

  “I’m also worried for you,” she adds.

  “Let’s quit with all this worrying and go to sleep,” I suggest. “We’ll have to be ready for the mission in a few hours.”

  Kitty frowns, gazing up at the ceiling. I expect her to say something else, but she snuggles in close and quickly falls asleep.

  I remain awake, holding her and looking at the window. It’s almost dawn. Today, I’ll be returning to the Death Camp.

  Chapter 15

  Our aircraft flies steadily toward the Death Camp. After two hours in the air, we’re getting very close to our destination. Everyone on board remains quiet, waiting to land.

  Our plan may be just bold enough to have a chance at being successful. We’re to land a couple of miles away from the prison. Victor’s agents, already planted in the camp, are to create an explosion and fire at the ammunition dump as a diversion. The explosion will be the signal to begin making our way inside the Camp. Our squad is dressed in Retaliation camo, so we hopefully can blend in and pass through unnoticed in the confusion. We’ll locate the lab, obtain the drug and leave the same way we came in.