Master: Arrow's Flight #3

by Casey Hays

  She closes her eyes, takes in a small breath.

  “The thought of a virus never touched our people. Because nothing can kill someone from Eden.”

  Her words strike us both to the core. What a joke.

  “My sister is from Gaza.” I look at her. “All this time, I thought she’d survived the toxin. I thought we were responsible for all the rescue babies’ deaths.”

  I clench my jaw, hear one of my teeth crack with the action. I ignore the pain that slices through my gum. It’s not nearly as painful as the knowledge that my own parents have been lying to me all my life. How do they justify this in their own minds? When I think of the siege on Eden, I sense the gravity of the situation even more deeply. If nobody knows the truth, how will they know what they’re fighting for? And if they don’t know this, how can they win?

  The thought makes my stomach reel. I sit on the edge of the bed, rest my hand securely over Kate’s leg. The pain eases in my gum as the tooth regenerates.

  “And this beauty you mentioned?” My voice rises with an angry sarcasm. “I’m just not seeing it. In fact, why aren’t we all dead from this virus?”

  Penelope releases a long slow breath through her teeth. “ I didn’t understand it either—not until I became a believer. Then, for the first time, I saw science through God’s eyes.”

  I furrow my brow. “That’s not an answer.”

  She presses the tips of her fingers together to form the shape of a tent and leans her elbows against her knees.

  “The nano-virus may have had a mind of its own, but God designed our bodies to think for themselves, too. And it all began with a rare, recessive gene. A mutation.”

  My curiosity flares even as my mind trembles under the weight of all these truths. She leans back, crosses her legs.

  “And as far as we can tell, this mutated gene has learned how to mimic the virus.”

  “What? Like . . . copies it?”

  “Amazingly, yes. Before I left Eden, I made it a point to specialize in this area. At birth, the virus attacks every baby—including those with the gene. The swiftness of the virus’s effects depends on the baby’s immune system and determines how long an infected baby will live. We can’t know. One day, the baby just gets sick, and it’s over.”

  She pauses, sucks in her bottom lip with a sharp nod, and I detect in her thoughts the images of the ugly deaths she’s witnessed. And in that moment, I refuse to think of Tabitha.

  “When the virus attacks a baby with the mutated gene, the gene seems to . . .” She struggles a moment, grappling for the right phrasing. “. . . flare to life, I suppose. Somehow, it convinces the virus that the baby is already infected. It’s ingenious, really.”

  She smiles affectionately and tilts her head toward the bed.

  “We’re all here because God created us with the correct genetic makeup to survive. A remnant of people who have beaten the odds. It’s a miracle we have yet to explain. Not even David can find the answer.” She sighs. “And yet he still desperately searches.”

  “You sound like you don’t want him to keep looking.”

  She chews on her bottom lip. “I’m just not sure we’re supposed to.”

  “Well, it won’t matter . . . if the Serum falls into the hands of the Vortex.”

  Our eyes connect.

  “No. It won’t,” she says flatly. “Eden meddled in a dangerous science, trying to heal this broken land by its own rules.” She focuses on me, serious. “But there is no such thing as paradise this side of Heaven, even for superhumans. The Vortex soldiers are a formidable enemy because they, too, are burying their children. They want a cure, and they seem to think Eden has already found it. It won’t matter how strong we are if they’ve found the way to defeat an indestructible people.”

  She vocalizes my worst fear, and my insides churn with trepidation. My mind shrinks in on itself, trying to close all the gaps, and the tiny flame deep inside me—the one that always prompts me to run—flickers to life. I’ve been blind—living by the edicts of a Code based on lies. Until recently, I’ve never questioned it, and I could kick myself for not being curious sooner. My muscles tighten involuntarily.

  I look at Penelope, trying to fit everything she’s said into some proper place on the shelves of my brain, and it overwhelms me. The Serum clicks through my blood, and I know that if I don’t ease back, I’ll fly out of control. And I don’t know how to ease back, and I don’t know how to manage the feelings the Serum invokes.

  I close my eyes, breathing deep.

  “My parents have always known,” I whisper.

  The truth impales me like nails being driven through every single one of my pores. I drag the back of my hand across my lips. The familiar fear—the one that chases me down every chance it gets—decides to show its face. I stand abruptly and pace the floor. I tug at my collar. The tiny, enclosed room begins to spin.

  “Ian?”

  Penelope’s voice is a distant echo somewhere outside my head. My mind involuntarily takes a tally, flipping through everything I’ve learned since Tabitha began to die in my arms. And I sense it—my body catching up with my thoughts, the pressure clicking, longing for release. My breathing becomes a ragged animal in my chest as I fight the sensations. They send an uncontrollable ache swimming through my lungs to join my stifled scream. I squeeze my eyes as tightly as I can, hold my breath, and will myself to rein it in. My heartbeat explodes inside my head. And for the first time, I force myself to face a reality I’ve been denying.

  I can’t control this. I never could. I run my hands through my hair.

  And then, a saying begins to run through my mind on a loop. A saying so commonplace it might as well be part of the Code.

  Better to die in Eden than to live in Gaza. Better to die in Eden than to live in Gaza. Better to . . .

  Really?

  “Ian?”

  Penelope is on her feet, placing a warm hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off and clench my fists against the coming invasion. Click, click, click.

  My survival stem vibrates.

  “I—I need some air.”

  The words are a breathy explosion from my lungs. I leap from the room, finally giving in to my need to escape the perpetual claustrophobia along with every other dreadful emotion raking itself over my nerves.

  Chapter 9

  A

  white heat shivers through my body just beneath my skin. I try to shake it, but the feeling is electric, buzzing like a thousand bees swarming through my blood, trying to find an escape.

  Penelope’s words sting like a fresh wound. Tiny robots—working against me. Wanting to control me, to force me to do their bidding. I get it now. The instincts? The churning urges inside me that prompt me to run, to fight? The fear that attacks without warning? And if I don’t get it under control . . .

  I lift my hand, study my fingers. The steady buzz rippling out from my core causes them to tingle, and for once, I’m in tune with the sensations. They send a message that soars through my entire body, connecting nerve to emotion, emotion to nerve, one heartbeat at a time. It all makes sense. I feel the purpose in each pulse.

  We should have been told about Project Nephilim. If I had known, it would have been so much easier to adapt. How could the Board think that hiding the truth was better for us? The angry heat trembles deeper, and I punch a fist into the front door. A section of the wood cracks under my knuckles.

  I yank open the door. The high-noon sun is blinding, but I shut my eyes against it . . . and collide straight into Aaron as I barrel through the door.

  I keep my footing, but he stumbles backwards catching his heel on the edge of the top step and nearly dropping the package tucked under his arm. With speedy precision, my fingers dart out to grab his wrist at the last second, pulling him upright. For a minute, the sun turns him into a shadow. I shuffle back a pace, filling the doorway with my height. He adjusts the strap of his canteen draped cross-wise over his chest, but I’m not focused on him anymore. My mouth drops
open as I gawk at the scene behind him.

  Lining the wet street are the soldiers—more than I’ve ever seen at once. Dressed in black with bright, gold, V-shaped insignias glaring on the left sleeve of their uniforms, they stand rigid in a square formation, face-forward at attention. Each one grips a long rifle, silent and unmoving.

  I turn as a shout echoes up the street, and I see more of them. They trudge along , forcefully herding frightened villagers who splash through the puddles toward their homes, locking doors and pulling curtains the moment they reach safety. Slowly, amongst shoving and tripping, the streets empty of everyone but this army.

  Stunned, I walk to the railing, mentally counting the numbers. The hate-filled eyes of a soldier nearest the porch watch me, causing a fire to blaze over my skin. My breath catches deep in my chest. The three soldiers from earlier have now morphed into sixty-four Vortex, armed with Eden-killers just for me.

  “Let’s get inside, Ian.”

  Aaron’s hand is suspended between us. I ignore it. My tongue turns bitter as the taste of war touches my senses, and I shudder. My knees suddenly feel weak. Once again, I’ve carried Kate right into the middle of a nightmare.

  One of the soldiers near the back swings his weapon, aiming it at my chest, and a flash of light catches my attention. A bright, red dot glaring on my white T-shirt. It hovers over my heart. I brush it with my fingertips, and the light transfers to my skin. I back away from the railing and hold up my fingers in front of me.

  “There he is, sir!” the soldier shouts, and I recognize the voice.

  Captain Nate Snow.

  The entire front row of soldiers shuffles into position, weapons raised. I shift my attention, focusing on the captain.

  Fists clenched, I narrow my eyes, ignoring the steady flock of deadly red lights dotting my chest. I knew he was up to no good. A hatred boils in my heart.

  The fury lasts only a minute before fear resumes. Fear for myself, for Kate helplessly trapped inside by her own useless body. Above all else, I have to protect her. At the notion, my breathing kicks up a notch until it’s bursting out of my lungs. I slump, hands on my knees, and fifteen guns cock at once. I rub a hot hand across my forehead.

  What is wrong with me? Why can’t I control my emotions when it comes to her safety?

  The commanding officer works his way to the middle of the street just behind the second row of soldiers who’ve set their sights on me. He scrutinizes me, head tilted to the side, arms clasped behind his back. A pistol is holstered on his hip. The General. I study his decorated uniform, and the fear growls low inside me.

  “What are they doing here?” I whisper, as if I don’t already know.

  “General Berg paid me a visit after word got out that you were with me yesterday.” Aaron nods toward the surly leader. “He has ordered his men to escort the villagers home.” Aaron chances another step indicating the general with a sweep of his hand. His voice is low and close now. “He’s put a curfew in place until further notice. In case anyone else gets the bright idea to harbor the enemy.”

  I set my jaw, fighting the building anxiety that controls the incessant pounding of my heartbeat.

  “I’m sorry, Aaron. I shouldn’t have shown my face yesterday.”

  Penelope joins us on the porch. “Just come inside, Ian.” She tugs gently on my sleeve, her voice calm and soothing.

  “Wait!”

  General Berg’s voice rings with daunting authority. He shoves his way between two of his men and stalks toward the porch, halting a foot from the steps. Aaron stiffens. His fingers wrapped around the strap of his canteen until the knuckles turn white.

  “What do you want with us, General Berg?” Aaron asks. “We are good citizens. No threat to you.”

  The general doesn’t smile.

  “I want nothing from you. I only want him.” He nods curtly toward me, his arms still folded stiffly behind his back. “In fact, we are taking both the boy and the doctor into custody.”

  Aaron takes one long step, forming a barricade between the general and his wife. The hairs on the back of his neck bristle like a dog ready for a fight. I can smell the fear.

  “Why do you need her? She’s done everything your men have asked of her.”

  I eye the package Aaron clutches. Turns out, it’s a loaf of bread wrapped in thin cloth. A single loaf of bread his only weapon. His fingers tighten on one end of it as he stares down the man who threatens his home. His eyes tell me everything. Commanding officer or not, Aaron will not answer to him.

  The blood in my head pounds a drumbeat against my brain. What have I done? I edge closer to Aaron, completely blocking Penelope from Berg’s view. I won’t let him take either of us if I can help it. Penelope says nothing, but I sense the fight in her, too.

  “We’ve had an incident.” Berg lifts his chin. “Two of our men have been taken to the clinic with severe head injuries.”

  “So?” Aaron’s voice is hard. “You have your own medics for that kind of thing.”

  General Berg purses his lips, a hint of irritation causing his mouth to twitch spasmodically in an attempt to control his emotions.

  “Yes. But your wife, being a doctor, is far better to aid our wounded. Plus, our medics have been called away.” His voice is strained, his watery eyes trained on Aaron. “An emergency.”

  “I don’t care. She’s not going with you.”

  The finality of Aaron’s statement sends my heart racing again. I glance at him, vying whether he’s really going to take on this fight. Three red dots form the points of a triangle over his heart. I swallow and face Berg.

  “What kind of emergency?” I ask.

  His head moves a quarter of an inch. I’m fully aware I should have kept my mouth shut when his glare burns into me. I’m not helping the situation.

  “You do not get to ask me any questions. For all I know, you’re the one who attacked my men. You . . . and that girl you brought with you. Or did the poor thing finally die?” He clucks his tongue in mock sympathy and cocks his head to the side. “A gunshot wound? From one of our weapons perhaps?” He smiles with satisfaction. “Was she from Eden as well?”

  A deep warmth rumbles to life in my gut. Before I can react, Penelope steps out from behind me and leans over the railing to address him.

  “I assure you, sir. He has not left this house all day. He is not responsible for whatever you claim has happened.”

  Berg takes her in just as he’d done me. Aaron tenses.

  “Penelope,” he says through gritted teeth. “Go back inside.”

  “You,” Berg ignores Aaron and addresses Penelope with a curious tilt of his head. “You are not from Jordan, are you?”

  Penelope peers at him down the line of her nose, back straight, breath even. “You know very well where I’m from.”

  “Penelope!” Aaron’s voice grows desperate.

  “Yes,” the general hisses, and the ‘s’ is a slithering snake. His mouth curves wickedly, and he directs his attention to me with a slight shift of his beady eyes. “It appears Jordan is becoming infested with your kind. We arrived just in time.”

  He says this with complete disdain. At the mention of my people, my courage flickers, building with thoughts of my family. It’s enough to quell the waves of apprehension rolling under my skin, and in one blink, I leap from the porch and land with a solid thud an inch from Berg.

  Nose to nose, I lean in until I’m close enough to count his eyelashes. All the remaining soldiers cock their guns in a cascading round of clicks. I tremble through my sudden spurt of bravery because I know it would take only one shot—one single bullet from one rifle—and I’d be a dead man. I ready myself for the blast, but it doesn’t come. Berg raises one hand, commanding them to stand down. A shuffle, and all guns ease back. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aaron move closer to Penelope, taking hold of her arm.

  “What do you want with Eden, Berg?” I heave his name at him through gritted teeth. I know the answer, but more than anything I
want one of these scumbags to just say it.

  Berg gazes up at me, his neck bent back awkwardly as my face hovers over his. Up close, his breath is stale, his teeth stained yellow. His nose is pocked with leftover acne scars. His eyes are nearly black, matching the greasy color of the hair that crawls out from under his hat.

  “It’s General Berg to you. And what do we want?” he echoes my question, and I sense the quivering undertone as he attempts to control it. He turns his head away for a moment to address one of his men. “The boy thinks he’s in charge now?”

  A muted laugh escapes his lips, and the soldier he addresses smiles nervously, but when Berg faces me again, I see it. He’s afraid of me. Even with all of his men surrounding us, guns poised, he can’t deny this fear because he’s not quite sure what a boy from Eden is capable of. Yes. I understand. He hasn’t seen it for himself. This makes me a curiosity and possibly the reason I’m not dead. But it also makes me braver, and I press my nose a half inch closer to his.

  “I asked you a question,” I whisper.

  He struggles to control his shaking, to save face in front of his men. “What we want is for your people to stop killing us.”

  I step back, my mouth parting slightly.

  “Your men are the ones doing the killing,” I snap. “Eden is a place of peace.”

  He cautiously steps away from me. “Is that what they teach you inside those walls?” With a soft laugh, he sharply adjusts the collar of his jacket, and with the motion regains some of his composure. “Oh, yes, I forgot. You are the heroes. Every one else is a villain.”

  A nasty sneer accompanies his words. I allow a low growl to escape my lungs.

  “Ian,” Penelope shrugs out of Aaron’s death grip and joins me. Together we stand tall over General Berg. She pricks him with her eyes and takes a hold of my wrist. “Go inside.”

  “No, no.” Berg waggles his index finger in warning. “Only one of us gives the orders around here.” He raises a dark brow at her. “For obvious reasons, we believe this boy is a danger. In fact, we haven’t ruled out that you yourself may be working for the enemy given what you are. And given that you’ve allowed this boy sanctuary in your home. So . . . you cannot be trusted.” He smacks his lips with finality and shifts his beady eyes toward one of the soldiers near him. “Take them.”