It wasn’t long before I couldn’t stand the nervousness anymore.
“So?” I asked.
“So, what, Mila?” she asked without looking up from the file folder.
“Uuuh,” I stammered.
“I haven’t been able to read everything, Mila. I know you’re impatient to see whether or not I…”
“Kick me out?”
Her eyes shot up to mine and a look of disapproval crossed her features, causing her brow to furrow. She set the file down on the desk, still open, and weaved her fingers together on the desktop. Then she cleared her throat and stared directly at me.
“What would make you think I’d do that? You were the one fine with leaving before. Now you want to stay?” she demanded sarcastically.
“I…I…” I stuttered again.
My mother leaned forward slightly and her baby blues pierced into my mind. I shrank back into my seat and nearly cowered in the wake of her incredulity. My heart skipped a beat, and all I wanted was to run out of her office and as far away as the island would allow before the Earth fell from beneath my feet.
“Look, you’re my daughter, and I want you to feel safe. If you don’t, then I need to know why. Is there someone that makes you uncomfortable or something about this entire situation that does? Or, is the new level of your ability causing this discomfort?” My mother sat back in her seat and steepled her fingers just above her pink lips. “Maybe even a mixture?”
I thought about that for a moment. I had never been able to determine exactly what my source of anxiety was once we came to the Paradigm. I knew one was the fighting within training for the Specials themselves, but I understood it. The fact that I could very well become the leader of the Fallen Paradigm if something were to happen to my mother? In essence. Leading the war against King’s regime. The lies that bled from my mother’s lips like they were second nature? If she wanted specifics, I could give them, but so many things worked against the Fallen Paradigm I couldn’t figure out why I’d want to stay. Nothing other than I wanted to be here now more than ever. My power was growing, and I had no idea how to control it. A very large part of me knew that Famke’s training program could be at least somewhat helpful in gaining that control over that part of myself.
Nothing was as it seemed anymore, and all the rules were changing.
“I don’t know, to be honest. It goes back and forth between wanting to leave and wanting to stay,” I answered with a wave back and forth of my hand.
“What do you think makes it so hard for you?”
She looked at me like she was analyzing me. Like she was a psychotherapist but was a geneticist. One of the most intelligent ones to date so I knew she could decipher the file and see many of the reasons I’d want to leave or stay based on every piece of available information she had at her disposal.
“You want my honest answer?”
“Of course.”
I paused and pulled my thoughts into one coherent puzzle pieced together. The picture wasn’t complete, but there was enough there to form a comprehensible picture.
With a deep breath, I said, “If you want me to be honest, it’s a lot of things. First and foremost, your lying and secrets have made it hard for me to stay as well as how you all train the Specials. I watched a skirmish and half of them were kids. I didn’t like watching that.”
“Continue,” she pushed with a nod.
“And the pressure of taking on a leadership role one day. That’s far too much pressure.”
She seemed to consider it a moment, dropping her lids and then glancing back up at me as if I was a child that needed to be hushed and comforted.
“So, what’s kept you here if all of this begs for you to leave and fight King on your own?” she questioned.
“The people I’ve met,” I began. “And the fact that I don’t have control over my ability yet. It’s growing too fast, and I can’t keep up. I need your help. There’s no way I can do this on my own.”
Smugness crossed over my mother’s face as she crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes making contact with my own. She was happy to hear me say the words aloud, that much I could tell. If anything, I would have felt the same way if I were sitting on her side of the desk. Her daughter, her Special daughter, being hunted by King and all of his men, needed her help because she couldn’t put herself back together. Only those with the Fallen Paradigm could. Or, at least, they could bring me that long awaited peace I had been searching for since the entire thing began.
“You want my help? I thought you didn’t need me,” she chided. “I thought you didn’t need the Fallen Paradigm to take King down.”
“Things have changed, Mom. Don’t do that passive aggressive bullshit. I’ve been through enough, and I won’t tolerate it. Not on top of everything else,” I spat back.
My mother sighed, dropped her eyes, and sat up in her chair, her back stiff. When she looked up at me again, all I saw was pain. Grief. Fear.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. The emotions never left her eyes to take residence on her face, but I couldn’t doubt how she felt. Not anymore since I depended on her and her regime to change the world.
Either way, I couldn’t look at her. She hadn’t been the only one of the two of us being snide or passive aggressive. I had been too because I didn’t want to believe that this was truly our world. I didn’t want to believe that we would be forced to hide, run, or flee because of something inside of us we had no control over.
“Sorry for what?” I asked.
I was truly curious. She had seemed as if she didn’t believe she had done anything worth apologizing for, or should apologize for. Nothing big, anyways.
“For everything. I’m sorry for never telling you about all of this. I’m sorry for you learning about your ability all on your own without my help. I’m sorry that I never gave you the injection that could’ve saved you from King. Also,” she leaned forward and searched my face, “I’m sorry I didn’t get to you in enough time to save Cato.”
“Mom, please...”
She held up her hand to stop me from going any farther.
“But most of all,” her shoulders shook slightly, and tears sprang into her eyes while her chin trembled, “most of all, I’m so, so sorry I didn’t tell you about the death of your father. What actually happened to him. I’m so sorry, and there is nothing else I can do to make things right except for apologize. Apologize and hope that you forgive me, even after I’m dead and gone. Whenever that may be.”
Not a single word left my mouth even though millions of them ran rampant through my mind. I felt as if I needed to reassure her that, no matter what, none of this made me love her or like her any less. That it didn’t matter as long as we were all together again and could beat this together. But none of that was true. Not even a fraction of it. Not just because of my experiences, but because of what it had changed those I knew into. My sister, the quiet girl, my baby sister, was now walking around the medical wing and working behind a desk instead of using her full potential.
Now my mother sat in front of me, only a desk and breathing space separating us, and I couldn’t comfort her.
“Mom, I can do this with you. I just want to know what you think about what’s in that file,” I answered, keeping my face blank as not to give away the mixture of exasperation, terror, and relief I felt.
She cleared her throat, placed her hands palms down on either side of the open file, and stared down at it like my words had just stabbed her in the gut and twisted the blade.
“All right we’ll do this your way,” she muttered.
“Thank you.”
I relaxed into my chair, but only slightly. Tension remained perched in the muscles of my back and shoulders. My foot jumped up and down while I watched her eyes drop and scan the information within the pages again. From what I
knew, the information that was given by Rayna and Doctor Aserov was exactly the same as what was in there, minus the lay-speak. As she read, I watched her face take on a range of emotions from interest, to boredom, interest again, fear, and came to settle on a combination of them that left me perplexed. The file came to rest on the desk as she gingerly lowered it down, not even bothering to close it before placing her hands on the desk and turning her face up to look at mine.
“This is,” she paused. “Oh God.”
“Mom? What is it?”
A prideful smile spread over her lips, and she began to laugh hysterically. Kind of like a mad scientist from old black and white films. Much like Doctor Frankenstein when his monster finally arose from the dead. I nearly expected her to stand up, throw her head back, and scream, ‘It’s alive!’ In truth, she wouldn’t be that dramatic. This would be the extent of her reaction toward what she read.
“Wow,” she breathed. “I take it you sat in with Rayna and Madeline? So, you know what’s in here?”
“Yes, but…”
“There is no but about it, Mila. Not even close.” She scrubbed one hand down her face and then through her hair. “You have no idea what this means, do you?”
I shook my head.
“This means that you are the most powerful Special in the world at this very moment. From what little we know about this John Baker fellow, not even he rivals your power. Your ability…I don’t even know how to say this to you.”
She rose from her chair and began to pace behind her desk, back and forth, but never moving past the edges.
“Mom,” I nearly shouted at her, coming to a stand. I moved toward her and, when she came my way again, I gripped her forearms and gave her a small shake to rouse her. “Mom, please, what is it? What does this mean? What does this mean to you?”
“It means that you…you are the closest thing to a miracle,” she stopped and shook her head as if the right words would come tumbling out. “No, not a miracle. You are the closest thing to God we have that can save us all.”
Stunned, I stood there, barely breathing. My fingernails dug into the flesh of my mother’s arms, tightening around them. I barely noticed her pained whimper. The fact that they thought I could be their savior, their God, was far too much for me. I wasn’t a God. I was no angel. I wasn’t the one to save the world. Maybe some small aspect of our own as Specials, yes, but nothing more than that. I couldn’t reshape what had already been broken by generations upon generations of greed.
I didn’t have the strength.
My head began to shake back and forth of its own volition while my body started to tremble. A small whisper flitted through my mind.
Save them, Cato whispered. Save them.
The words, I knew, were meant to be comforting. They stated I had a purpose, laying the pressure on even more. It was as if the world was sitting on my shoulders. Even dead, Cato knew better than anyone what kind of purpose I had on this Earth. Even if I didn’t want to believe it.
My body knew it. I could feel it. The steady hum and tingle through my belly that spread out through my limbs made it perfectly clear. I wanted so badly to believe it. To trust what I saw in my mother’s light eyes and what Cato and the rest of the world were trying to tell me over and over again.
Save them.
Again, with those same words. Like a beggar on the street corner wishing someone would drop just one penny into his bucket.
Save them. Save yourself.
Save them.
“Mila,” my mother breathed, “you’re hurting me.”
I forced myself to let go of her and back away toward the far wall of her office, never once taking my eyes off her face. She silently pleaded with hands stretched out toward me, bright red handprints on the pale flesh of her upper arms. Almost like a burn. My back hit the wall, and I slid down it, covering my face with my hands in shame at my lack of control.
“I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”
Hushing noises came closer to me, warm and gentle fingers touching my arms. I jerked away and looked up at her, eyes wild and frantic when I looked into her eyes. I was scared of myself. I had no control, and now I had hurt my mother because I couldn’t hold myself together. The panic caused my ability to fluctuate. There were moments, when in dire need of it, that I had complete control over what I could do. But, without the threat of death, I was an utter mess that could barely keep herself from destroying everything around her when stress reared its ugly head.
“Hush now,” she said as she knelt in front of me. “No need to be sorry. I understand.”
The paranoia that ran through me heard the imperceptible hiss of anger in her voice. She didn’t understand. No one did. Not even another Special, no matter how similar our abilities were.
“Forgive me,” I begged.
Save them.
The words rushed through my mind again at the same time I said the words of mercy to my mother. I was certain she’d never hurt me. Not on purpose, but it didn’t stop me from begging her for a merciful hand.
Her hands rubbed my arms and then, just like she used to do when I was a child plagued with nightmares, she pulled me to her and curled around my body in an embrace. I didn’t expect her to absolve the harm I had done her so quickly. The heat of the burns on her skin pulsed against my own. A hot ripple moved through my body and then came to settle in my belly in a solid pit of despair.
“Shhhh, my daughter. We can get through this. We can win.”
And, after the swiftest of moments, I believed her.
Chapter
SEVENTEEN
The next day, after the biggest shock of my life to date, I stood in what I termed The Labyrinth. It was the room that stood in the very center of the Fallen Paradigm’s headquarters where Specials trained to gain control over their abilities. The same place I had watched Genevieve take down the others in a skirmish that rivaled all others. Well, that I had seen personally.
Her electric power awed me still, especially the purplish glow of it that mirrored the color of her eyes. The only thing I would consider changing about her was the Day-Glo hair, but that wasn’t important.
I wasn’t alone in the room. The other occupants were the same six Specials I had met originally, plus so many more. When Ajax had stated there were more of them than King had bargained for, he truly meant it. Ajax, the missing piece since our arrival here at the Fallen Paradigm, stood on the far side of the room, a smile on his face directed at me. His leg was almost fully healed, and his blond head showed a slight sunburn underneath his hair. With arms crossed over his broad muscled chest, I crossed the room and stood before him, mirroring his stance.
“Well, hello, stranger.” I kept my tone even and made certain not to leave a trace of my happiness at his presence.
“Hey there, little lady,” he replied, tipping his head as if he wore a cowboy hat. Just like in the old Western films. “I had been sent out to pasture to drive the herds. Don’t reckon you have a soft place for me to lay my head for a night?”
His right eyebrow rose a small fraction, and I couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up in my throat from escaping.
“Well, I can’t say that I do, but these fine folk at the Fallen Paradigm may have just the spot for ya,” I replied in a fake Southern drawl. “I have to tell ya, though. There ain’t no free girls tonight, so you’re on your own.”
A grin broke out on his face and he slapped the knee of his uninjured leg, laughing uproariously at my act. I giggled right along with him. He walked toward me with arms wide open and wrapped me in a massive hug, squeezing almost to the point I couldn’t draw in a breath.
“Oh, I’m so happy to see you,” he cried right over my head.
With what little air I could take in I croaked, “Can’t…. breathe.”
He suddenly
let go, and air flooded my lungs in a gulp. Coughing a few times, I placed my hand on my chest to slow my heart and stared up at the massive man. He was even bigger than I remembered. That or he had been lifting weights. The veins popped out from under his skin without him having to flex a single muscle, and his eyes were brighter than they had been previously. His body seemed to hum with a silent energy as well.
“What have you been doing, you giant? You look more beefed up than usual,” I joked, reaching out a squeezing one of his forearms.
“Yeah, I wasn’t kidding about being sent out to pasture. I’ve been out keeping an eye on the coastline to make sure we still haven’t been figured out. There have been a few close calls in the past, and all of us soldiers take shifts,” he explained.
“That explains your sunburn,” I poked at him. “Your scalp looks like you’re wearing a lobster as a hat.”
He scrubbed his hand over his scalp and winced a little.
“Don’t exactly get sunscreen out there, honey.”
“Not even a hat?”
“Not even a hat. Impairs the visual field.”
I nodded and crossed my arms over my chest.
“Where’s your boy?” Ajax asked with what seemed to be genuine interest.
“Firearms training with some of the Specials. Apparently, he’s the best shot on the entire island?”
“Our weapons expert besides Famke. They’re both neck and neck when it comes to the knowledge,” he answered with a curt nod.
“Nice how I’m just finding that out,” I muttered. I looked down at the floor and scuffed my boot on the linoleum, wishing I knew so much more than I did about Ryder.
The Scorned (The Permutation Archives Book 3) Page 19
