Catching Ivy

by Eliza Tilton

  My heart beats erratically, my mind skitters. Though I hear Damion, my mind is lost. Nanotech? In my brain?

  Even when Eric discovered Dr. Hecks’ plans for LUCID, he never told me I had tech wired in my brain. Why wouldn’t he say anything? How could he not tell me?

  As if sensing my inner turmoil, Damion softens his voice. “Whatever BORAS did to you, we’re going to stop them. You’re going to be okay.” He squeezes my hand, staring at me with such fierce determination, I almost believe him.

  “Why do you care?” I ask, unwilling to meet his eyes.

  He pulls his hands out of mine. “Because you’re in trouble,” he stammers.

  “But why? You don’t even know me.”

  “Because the last girl I failed died,” he says in a broken, hushed voice.

  The force of his statement hits me and the loss in his eyes is so desolate, t mimics my own pain. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault, Ivy, but I’m not going to make that mistake again. I sat back and did nothing, and someone I loved paid for it.”

  I make a conscious effort to steady my breathing. “I’m tired of running,” I admit.

  He lifts my chin and brushes feather-light fingers across my cheek. “I know. I’ve been running with you, experiencing every moment. Believe it or not, my stomach actually hurt when you were sewing yourself up.” He laughs without humor. “I watched that fire, the way it blossomed into the air, felt the pounding against your chest like my own life was in danger. Every emotion, I was with you.”

  The anxious flutter in my chest blossoms into a warm sensation. Damion’s blue eyes ground me, and I can’t move. My thoughts wander to the weightless memory of him in my dreams. How could I see him? What does it all mean?

  He continues, “I know it’s not the same for you, but for me, I’ve never been more connected to anyone in my life. Letting BORAS hurt you is the same as letting myself be hurt, and my sense of survival won’t allow it,” he adds with a wry twist to his mouth.

  For a few silent moments, we stare at each other. Something in the way he speaks makes me believe his words. It gives me hope.

  “Okay. I believe you.”

  He smiles. It’s the first time I’ve seen it. Two tiny dimples appear in his cheeks. The sweet expression makes me smile back.

  He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. “Relax. I’m going to make us some food, and then we’ll go for a walk.”

  I nod, and as he walks away, I brush the warm spot on my fingers where his lips touched.

  TWENTY

  ~Damion~

  Ivy walks past the trees with wide eyes. Her mouth hangs slightly open. She hasn’t told me much about the BORAS compound or what her life was like there, but I can see she’s never been in a forest.

  And that’s a damn shame.

  The leaves here are a riotous cascade of orange, sienna, and yellow. The colors sparkle with the sunlight, reflecting against Ivy’s hazel eyes.

  After we arrived, I searched the web map for a survey of the area. Buzz picked a safe house far enough away from any other houses, and with its own source of natural water. When I spotted the waterfall on the map, I knew Ivy needed to see it. I let Jims know where we were going and to message me if he heard any news.

  “I never thought I would get to see the woods,” Ivy admits and rubs her hand against a tree, exploring the rough bark. “It’s so colorful.”

  I keep step beside her, placing the full cooler in my other hand so that our arms brush. “It’s not always like this, only during the fall.”

  She nods, embarrassed, and for a moment I feel bad treating her like a child. But she’s so sheltered, I don’t know how much she really knows about the world.

  “We had teachers at the hospital,” she confirms. “Another year, and I would have finished my schooling.”

  “You still can.”

  She glances at me, smiling. “Maybe. I would love to be a teacher one day. My teacher, Mrs. Henry, was such a sweet lady. She always made us forget we were trapped in a facility.”

  We walk in a comfortable silence for a while until I announce, “We’re almost there.” I motion for her to follow, knowing the site we are about to cross will awe her beyond anything else she’s seen.

  Rushing water echoes around us the closer we get. Ivy’s brows narrow as she tries to pinpoint the sound. “What is that?” she exclaims.

  My answer is an enigmatic smile as we crest over the hill and she gasps.

  In front of us stands a twenty-five-foot waterfall crashing into a pool. Even though it isn’t a large one, the way the water trickles through the rocks and stream gives it a majestic aura.

  Ivy heads down the hill, carefully stepping around gnarled tree roots and flat rocks until we stand at the base. She doesn’t say anything, but her whole face brightens with a smile.

  “Do you want to eat here?” I ask, although I’m fairly sure I already know the answer.

  She nods, her gaze never leaving the water. “Yes. This is perfect.”

  I slip off the backpack of supplies and pull out a blanket, placing it on the ground and bowing grandly, inviting her to sit. After she does, I situate myself next to her and grab the cooler, digging out the food and a water bottle. The safehouse didn’t have a stockpile of fresh food, but there were enough staples to make a halfway decent meal.

  “Here.” I hand her a mini stack of peanut butter and jelly on crackers. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I kept it simple.”

  “Thank you.”

  She takes a bite of the first cracker, and before I finish half of mine, she’s already done with hers. I hand the rest of my uneaten PB&J.

  “Oh, no, I’m fine,” she protests, waving it away, but by the way she just scarfed those mini sandwich crackers, I know she isn’t.

  “Here, take it. I’m not hungry,” I exaggerate, knowing it’s been a while since I’ve eaten, too.

  Her eyes light up as she tentatively inquires, “Are you sure?”

  I nod and she takes it, this time eating a little slower.

  In between bites, she begins to talk about her time in the facility. “I haven’t been eating that much. Normally, I don’t have a big appetite because of the sessions, but it’s been almost four weeks since I had one.”

  “What were they doing in there?” I ask.

  She holds a cracker in her hand, thinking. The corner breaks off and crumbles on her knee.

  “The sessions were always different. Sometimes, I’d be awake inside an enclosed machine that read my brain waves. Other times, I’d be asleep while they administered different drugs and electric pulses. They said they were trying to research and treat the tumor in my brain, and that these sessions would help everyone with a similar condition.”

  “Do you really have a tumor?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Didn’t they ever show you the x-rays?”

  She shakes her head. “No. I never saw anything until after Bethany died. All I know is that I felt sick all the time. I never questioned it.”

  “You know they could have been making you sick,” I hypothesize, unsure what she might think of the idea.

  Instead of answering, she stares straight ahead. I know the truth of her situation is shocking and she must have a thousand questions, some of which may never be answered. I think back to the tech in her brain, how it spider-webbed and burrowed, connecting her to it. Was that what made her sick?

  Needing to break the tense silence that suddenly springs between us, I stay positive. “Just wait. Buzz will come through, and this will all be over.”

  Still silent, her eyes water.

  “Ivy, everything is going to work out,” I vow.

  She wipes a single tear off her cheek and blows out a big breath. “I have to believe it will, that something greater is watching over us. Out
of all the people who could have gotten my vid, you did, and you figured it out. Not just anyone would have realized it was real. That I was real.”

  “I almost didn’t,” I admit. “I thought the vid was busted, but then I noticed the dates and the fire. I thought it was a crazy coincidence until I saw you at the soup kitchen. You walked right in wearing that same outfit. If you were a paid avatar, you’d never be caught at a soup kitchen, much less wearing a bloody tracksuit.”

  “Damion.” My name rolls off her tongue in a silky tone, and I realize how much I like her saying it.

  Beep-beep

  I tap my watch and a hologram of Jims’ face appears. “Talked to B. You two should head back.”

  “We’ll be right there.” Tapping once more to disconnect, Jims disappears. I stare at my watch.

  I don’t want to go.

  Ivy stands, not giving me a choice. When she glances down at me, I want to pull her back to the grass and kiss her. Every time her head tilts in curiosity, I want to hold her face and talk until sunrise, telling her about the world, myself, and my family.

  It kills me to think how deeply connected I am to her, while she doesn’t even know me.

  Or care to know me.

  “Are you coming?” She holds out her hand, inviting me to take it.

  For a moment, the waterfall stops pounding into the pool, the wind stops rustling the leaves, and her hair floats on air. I’m mesmerized. Without hesitation, I take her hand and stand, suddenly ready to go and do whatever she needs.

  I’m falling.

  Hard.

  And I don’t know how to stop.

  TWENTY-ONE

  ~Ivy~

  When we arrive back at the cabin, Jims is sitting by the computer, frantically tapping keys. He swivels his chair around to face us as we enter the house.

  “Good news!” he shouts, taking another puff on that metal object. “Buzz is meeting us tomorrow with the program. He’ll explain the plan, and from there, it’s straight to BORAS.”

  “And just how are we supposed to get into BORAS?” I question. “The facility has impossibly tight security everywhere. The only reason I made it out was because Eric hacked into the security feeds.”

  With a wink, Jims says, “Your lab buddy is making us a key, and then he’s leaving Buzz instructions on where to pick it up.”

  I glance at Damion, my stomach clenching with worry. He gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

  Seeing our exchange, Jims stands and stretches, putting his cylinder in its holder. “Anyway, you two keep yourselves busy. I need to run out for a few hours. I’ll be back later.”

  Damion scrunches his brows, warning, “Where are you going? We don’t need you getting twisted and forgetting to come back.”

  Jims looks Damion dead-on in the eye. “I need to meet Buzz’s guy. Plus, we can’t go in there unarmed, man.”

  Weapons. Realization dawns on Damion’s face. “What do you plan to get?”

  Jims smirks. “Don’t worry. I have a buddy who has some high-tech gear. If we get caught in there, we’ll give them a good fight, at least.”

  “I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” I say. “There are a lot of children in that facility.”

  “No worries, sweetheart. We won’t shoot to kill.” Jims winks. “I’ll grab food and you some new clothes.” He tilts his head to the side. “What are you, five five, and about a size ….” His gaze roves over me. “Can you turn around?”

  “What?” I ask while Jims twirls his finger in a circle.

  “What are you doing?” Damion glares.

  He gives us an exasperated ugh, and shakes his head. “Nevermind, you look like a size 5. I’ll pick something nice.”

  Damion pulls him to the side as Jims grabs his bag. “Be careful.”

  Jims nods and salutes us before bolting out the door.

  “What will we do now?” I ask, watching him leave.

  “For one thing, rest. We’ve been up since late last night.”

  His words remind me how bone-achingly tired I am. I want to wash the past week off my skin. “Is there a bath here?”

  “Why don’t you check the rooms for clothes or towels, and I’ll check out the bathroom?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I chirp, happy to have something to do.

  Damion runs up the steps in front of me.

  I’ve never had a boyfriend. There was a boy at the facility I liked, but they forbade us from having any romantic relationships. I used to think Eric might like me, but he never tried to kiss me or expressed romantic feelings.

  While I walk up the stairs and check the nearby closets for towels, my heart does a strange pitter patter. I hear water hit the sides of a tub and a chill runs through me. I fiercely want to believe in this moment. I need to believe that Damion is a kind soul with no ulterior motives who truly wants to help. But I’m afraid. I’m afraid to choose wrong, because too much rides on my decisions.

  But he found you.

  He saved you.

  He helped you escape.

  That’s right. So far, Damion has only shown himself to be a true friend, nothing more. Shouldn’t I give him a chance?

  Frustrated, I grab a towel and a large bathrobe I find hanging on a hook. I walk back down the hall to the bathroom. Damion’s perched on the side of the tub, dragging his hand across the water.

  “Hope it isn’t too hot,” he teases shyly.

  “You made me a bath?” I grip the towel and bathrobe close to me, like a shield to protect my sudden feelings of vulnerability.

  He shrugs as if running a bath is an everyday task. “You said you wanted one. Figured I’d start it for you.”

  Damion stands and swipes his hair back off his forehead. “Hey. I know this whole situation is weird,” he begins, gesturing in the air between us, “but I swear I only want to help, nothing more.”

  Nothing more.

  Those two words bother me. I don’t know why, but they do.

  “I mean, I...” Damion stutters and his cheeks flush.

  We stand across from each other, staring, neither of us able to find the words we truly want to say. Does he want to say more? Does he feel more?

  My heart thumps against my chest.

  “You found a towel,” he says, changing the topic, pointing to the cloth in my arms. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” He swiftly pushes past me and closes the door.

  Taking a minute to calm my racing heart, I slip out of my grimy clothes and into the warm tub. The simmering water soothes my skin and sends a pleasant tickle up my legs and throughout my body. Sliding further into the water, I let it caress my skin, relaxing my body inch by glorious inch. The tension in my back and shoulders fades, and for one, blissful moment, I am relaxed.

  Dragging my hand across the water, the iridescent sheen on the surface wavers. I bring my hand to my nose and sniff. The delicate scent of roses wafts into the air. On the corner of the bathtub sits a glass jar with tiny pink balls.

  He really made me a bath.

  The idea of Damion taking the time to draw me a hot bath with pretty scents makes y chest warm with content. He didn’t need to do all this, yet he did, willingly.

  I lean back against the cold rim of the tub and settle my aching body. I don’t think about BORAS, or any of the “what ifs” that normally plague my mind.

  I think about Damion’s sweet face, and how he made me a bath. The warm water soothes every muscle and ache until I close my eyelids and rest.

  “Ivy!”

  I fall under the water and back up again, gasping and sputtering.

  Damion swings open the door, wide eyed and frantic.

  “What is it?” I cry. “Is it BORAS? Are they here?”

  Damion’s startled gaze flickers down then back up. His cheeks flame red. “When I called and you didn�
�t answer, I panicked,” he answers sheepishly, stiffly standing in the doorway. “I’m sorry!” he blurts suddenly, whipping back around. “I guess I overreacted.” He hangs his head and mutters to himself.

  I stand up in the tub and reach over to grab the robe hanging on the robe hook. “It’s okay. I must have fallen asleep.”

  Once the robe is on, I walk over and tap him on the shoulder.

  He turns around, keeping his gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to ruin your bath. I was worried when you didn’t answer.”

  “It’s okay.” I pat his chest. “Thanks for checking on me. What do we do now?”

  He gulps. “We can watch a movie, if you want?”

  “That sounds nice.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  ~Damion~

  Scented water is still dripping off Ivy and I honestly don’t know how I’m going to be able to contain myself. Her hair is wet, slicked back away from her face, her cheeks flushed from the heat.

  And the image of her naked body stepping out of the tub … Most girls would have screamed at me, but she almost didn’t seem bothered by being naked. Did they get naked a lot at the facility? Images of Ivy and other naked girls flood my mind and I shove them all away. Not the time.

  The living room has a big projector screen, and after a few minutes of scrounging around in cabinet drawers, I find the box to control it. After everything we’ve been through, I choose a comedy flick, thinking a laugh will be good for both of us. We sit next to each other on the big, comfortable couch. As the movie begins, she stretches out her perfectly toned legs on the ottoman.

  The movie is funny, but I can hardly focus with her next to me.

  Everything about her is perfect.

  There’s a water drop at the base of her knee. It slides down and curves around her leg and I can’t pull my eyes away. The urge to reach out and touch her is overwhelming, almost to the point where I’m struggling to control my primal instincts.

  Every giggle pulls me closer to her like a magnet.