Enmity

by E. J. Andrews

  ‘Don’t you dare tell anyone I cried,’ I can’t help but spit out. I hear Nate scoff.

  ‘Technically you’re still crying, so you can’t use past tense yet.’

  My cheeks twitch with a smile. I am glad that Nate understands these parts of me.

  I allow my eyes to open into slits and I see Nate sitting next to me on the bed. He has a large white bandage over the arrow wound I granted him. Guilt stings me again, which makes another burst of pain pulse through my brain.

  He looks at me, but not as though he is studying me, just as though he is making sure I am still breathing.

  We stay like that for a long time until I drift into that hazy area between sleep and wakefulness. The pain in my head slowly eases, but I can still remember the feel of it, as though it is still a constant presence, the same as so many pains in my life.

  ‘What’s wrong with me?’

  I have said the words to no one, but I realise that Nate is still sitting with me and will assume I have spoken to him.

  Nate simply scoffs and utters softly into the darkness.

  ‘I’ve been asking myself the same question.’

  Nate

  I’ve been finding it hard to sleep, even though it is a little easier with Marina in my arms.

  I pull myself out of her embrace, which is hard given we share a single bed. I open the door to the hallway and am surprised to see a light on in the common room. Making my way down to it I see that it is Josh, who is asleep in an armchair off to one side of the room. He has a book open in his lap and a reading light on above him casting a hollowing light over his face.

  I come over and kick the side of the chair in an attempt to wake him up. It works and Josh awakens with a start.

  He looks around, disorientated for a moment and then rubs his palms over his face.

  ‘What time is it?’ He asks.

  I shrug, I honestly have no idea.

  Josh looks up to me and it is as though he is considering who I look like.

  ‘How’s the arm?’ he asks in his strange foreign accent.

  I look over at my arm as though I have forgotten it is eternally attached to me. Well, hopefully eternally.

  ‘It’s good, not really any pain anymore,’ I tell him. He looks pleased by this, as am I. I’m not particularly a fan of pain.

  ‘Can I ask you something?’ I ask Josh, who looks a little surprised by the question.

  ‘Absolutely,’ he answers, and so I ask—‘Is there anything . . . strange about me. Medically?’

  Josh looks at me for a long minute, I am certain there is, there must be, why would he be looking at me like this if there isn’t?

  Then Josh starts to shake his head.

  ‘No, not really. Oh, actually—’ my heart stops. ‘You have an O blood type, that’s strange. They say there’re only around ten people left in the world with that blood type.’

  I try to let my sigh out as just another breath, but I can feel the release of pressure as though I am both disappointed and relieved.

  I nod and walk over to the refrigerator and grab a bottle of water.

  ‘Night,’ I tell Josh.

  ‘Nate—’ he stops me. I turn back to him. ‘Why do you ask?’

  Tell him. Tell him. Tell him.

  I shrug it off.

  ‘You find out your parents aren’t really your parents and you start to wonder what your biological parents passed down to you.’ I use Hermia’s favourite word. The lie is so perfect I’m impressed with myself

  Josh watches me carefully and I am worried he hasn’t believed me. But why wouldn’t he? He doesn’t know any of the things I have experienced over the past few days.

  ‘Nothing out of the ordinary,’ he says, but I don’t believe him. His words are too calculated, too cold.

  I turn away from Josh and feel the weight of his words pressing upon me. We have both lied, that I know for sure.

  Hermia

  Winter is standing across the living room, giving me daggers from her eyes. I’m not surprised though, as she often gives me this look.

  My head still hurts some of the time, but I am trying not to think of it now.

  I can tell something is boiling within her, and I hope it will make her explode.

  I turn to Nate.

  ‘She’s about to spontaneously combust any minute.’

  I see Nate smile and then his face goes serious. I follow his gaze and find that Winter is making her way over to us with long, defined strides.

  ‘Why don’t you shut the hell up and get back to planning everyone’s deaths, Nate.’

  I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. There is absolutely no reason for anything Winter does or says, so I have narrowed it down to the fact that she is simply a bitch.

  ‘Don’t like it, leave,’ I answer back. ‘Oh wait, you can’t, because they kidnapped us.’

  I expect Winter to come up short, but her face now holds a smirk. ‘Not me.’

  I don’t let the shock show on my face, I keep it hard and defined.

  Nate doesn’t keep his composure quite so well.

  ‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’ he asks.

  Winter looks between Nate and me, her smile growing wider and wider.

  ‘I’m here of my own free will.’

  She says it with absolutely nothing in her voice; no regret, no intrigue, no sorrow, no regard. Nothing.

  ‘You came here voluntarily?’ I hate the way the shock seeps into my voice, making it break. I think back to the conversation I heard between Darria and Winter’s father. Collins didn’t say that Winter volunteered. Darria said that he’d explained what Winter being here would entail, but Collins said nothing about whether or not he had told Winter the same things.

  Winter’s eyes are sharp.

  ‘Of course I did.’ She almost sounds enraged. ‘Do you really think my father is capable of leading the world into anything but extinction?’

  I think for a moment she may cry. Her eyes are swimming with a soft sheen of tears ready to spill over and break her ice-cold exterior, but then I think maybe it’s because she’s staring at me so hard.

  We look at each other and I don’t know what to say to her. I am certain she must be mad. Winter’s expression changes in an instant; her eyes squint and her mouth twists into an impervious smile. ‘You don’t honestly think I’m the only one?’ My mind races—she can’t be serious.

  Or I can’t be that deluded.

  My mouth shapes the word ‘who’, though I can’t actually make a sound.

  Winter still holds that tight smile, cold and hate-filled.

  Then she turns and walks away, making me want to kill her more and more painfully with every step she takes.

  My feet push me forward. My hand clasps into a fist; I feel it make contact with the back of Winter’s head. I realise even as I’m hitting her that I’ve made a horrible decision. Winter is a much better hand-to-hand fighter than me. I just pray I have enough anger to carry me through.

  Winter turns and starts throwing her fists at my face; I block each and every punch, though I don’t know how I manage it. I can see the anger emanating from Winter’s eyes, through her body to her balled fists.

  I drop and sweep my foot around in an attempt to trip her.

  I fail, of course; Winter jumps to avoid my leg and as she lands I kick out from my crouched position.

  Winter is one step ahead though; she has moved backwards slightly so I am just out of reach. But she is not too far away to try and smash her raised foot down onto my head.

  I only just throw myself back in time, though she still hits my shin. It feels as though she has splintered it, but I choke back the pain, pushing myself up and forward to try and shake it off.

  Arms clasp around me and I can see Robert pulling Winter away from me.

  ‘You’re a coward!’ Winter bellows at me. I fight off the person holding me back.

  ‘What, because I don’t choose to fight for something I know nothing
about?’

  Winter writhes against Robert, but he keeps his hold on her. My head starts to hurt again; I try to force the pain back.

  ‘No, because you were offered this and you ran away.’

  Winter calms herself slightly, though I still feel she is just waiting for an opportunity to lunge at my throat. I haven’t even had a chance to look around and see who’s in our audience, which seems to have grown somewhat.

  Winter shouldn’t know that about me. I haven’t told anyone apart from Chase and Nate that Darria is my uncle. Maybe Darria told

  Collins a little too much about me. I laugh at her; no choice now but to speak as though it was never a secret.

  ‘You think we just used to sit around the dinner table and discuss all this? Darria and I?’ My eyes are hard on hers. ‘He was the only parent I ever had and he left me so he could do all this.’

  Why am I telling them all this? And why does my head hurt, now of all times! Despite my better judgement, I continue.

  ‘He brought me here, by force. Is making me fight by having keepers point guns at my head. Because do you know what? I don’t care. I don’t care if The Cain wins control of the city. I don’t care if the whole compound turns to shit. I don’t care about any of you.’

  My last words linger, but it may only seem so to me. I turn and see Nate close behind me; obviously he was the one holding me back moments earlier.

  ‘You’re right, Nate,’ I say directly to him, and then I turn and face Winter again. ‘She is a manipulative bitch.’

  I walk out, coming within an inch of Winter and feeling her cold, brisk stare bore into me. I catch sight of Bill, the slightly disfigured clone twin. He is staring at me as though I am both interesting and completely mundane. I shake my head at him, trying to get a response from him, though I receive nothing back. I turn away from his gaze, as well as everyone else’s that I know I must have in this moment.

  If I cared before, they all know I don’t care anymore.

  Nate

  I sit in the small gap between the two beds in my room. Hermia occupies hers, Marina is in mine and I get the floor.

  I couldn’t sleep if I tried now. Everything that has been going on over the past week is playing on my mind. I can’t get the sound of Hermia’s pained shrieks out of my head, then her fight with Winter. I know Hermia tries to give off this hard exterior, but she does care. I don’t know why it is so important for her to say she doesn’t.

  There is a soft knock on the door; I stand to answer it. Hermia stirs in her bed and I move to the door quickly in an attempt not to wake her. She is now confined to bed rest on direct orders from Darria. He was less than happy to find out about Hermia and Winter’s very public discussion.

  I open the door and see Winter standing in the hall.

  Shock hits me first, then anxiety.

  ‘Wint—’

  Winter shushes me before I can get her name out. I haven’t seen her since her fight with Hermia a couple of hours ago.

  I move out into the hall and close the door behind me, expecting that this conversation may have raised voices.

  ‘We have some things to discuss.’

  Her tone is hushed but all business.

  ‘Such as—’

  ‘Getting rid of Hermia.’

  She’s joking. There’s no way she’s serious. When I don’t reply Winter continues.

  ‘She’s not with us. She’s going to ruin everything we’re working for.’

  My head is beginning to hurt from my dismay, the wrinkles on my forehead are starting to become so deeply set I am probably giving myself crow’s-feet.

  ‘What exactly are we working for?’

  Winter looks stricken, as though that question shouldn’t be uttered. It should be obvious.

  ‘We’re stopping those who want my father dead,’ Winter spits at me.

  ‘Right,’ I nod my agreement, though I don’t agree with anything that goes on around here. ‘And you want to get rid of Hermia because she didn’t come here willingly so you think she’s a liability?’

  I can see Winter’s jaw set and I can tell she is probably clenching her teeth.

  ‘Of course she is, she’s insane.’

  I can’t stop myself from letting a laugh erupt from my chest. Then the laugh stops mid-breath and I scare myself. Winter looks a little frightened too.

  ‘You forget I didn’t ask for this either. Why is Hermia such a threat?’

  Winter looks offended by that line of questioning, she looks down at her feet for a second and I hope she is not considering something stupid.

  ‘There’s a lot you don’t know about her.’

  Winter says it as a warning, but it feels like a slap in the face.

  ‘I don’t know a hell of a lot about you either, so I think I’m going to stick with Mia.’

  I’d better be right about this.

  ‘Then you’ve made your choice. Let’s hope you can live with it.’

  Winter says it as though I am sure to die. Little does she know, I’ve already come to terms with that.

  Hermia

  The wall opposite me has nothing on it. Not even a misguided brushstroke in the paint which covers the walls. Nothing at all to garner my interest and keep me from wanting to rip these walls down and escape.

  It has been two days since my brain almost exploded and then I exploded at Winter yesterday. Which is what I think caused Darria to confine me to bed rest, probably hoping to stop me from getting into any more fights.

  The amount of concern Nate presses on me makes me almost want to be rid of it, so I try to be good.

  Josh has come and taken blood samples and the rest of it, but he still can’t find anything to explain what caused my ‘episode’, as it’s being classified. Winter has some more colourful words to describe it.

  There is a stiff knock on the door that I recognise as Chase’s.

  ‘What?’ I give my usual answer, just in case it isn’t Chase.

  As the door opens I see that it is not.

  Rence stands in the doorway; as he enters I see that he is not alone.

  Darria is behind him, as though Rence is clearing a path for him.

  ‘You may go, Rence, thank you,’ Darria says, as though I may have been a danger to him, but he has now seen I am not.

  I roll my eyes, very intentionally.

  Darria closes the door and stands at a distance for a moment, then comes over and sits on the edge of my bed. This is probably the closest we have been since I was around eight.

  ‘How is your head?’

  The words seem strange coming from his mouth. All formal, barely a hint of actual concern.

  ‘Just swell, how’s yours?’ I reply sarcastically.

  Darria gives a sigh and looks down at his hands.

  ‘I don’t expect you to like me—’

  ‘Good, cause I don’t.’

  Darria stares at me now, with the look he reserves especially for me. The one that says he is getting tired of my attitude, but he knows there’s nothing he can do about it.

  ‘But I am your uncle.’

  I start to get annoyed, my head and heart starting to pound in unison.

  ‘What? You came back here from whatever important place you’ve been, just to make sure I’m okay and play the concerned uncle card?’ I try not to rush the words, but my rage makes it hard to enunciate. ‘You gave up that right, remember? You let her take me away. So, you’re not my father, you’re not my family and I don’t care.’

  It’s harsh. But he made a choice that hurt me—he left. I won’t let him close enough to care if he leaves again.

  Darria looks at me, a little stunned, then stands and walks to the door with a determined stride. He hesitates at his exit, almost turning back but not facing me.

  ‘Maybe you should.’ His voice is soft; it sounds like it did when I was very young. ‘Care, that is. Things worth caring about come few and far between nowadays.’

  Now I am a little stunned. And I am le
ft in my stunned state to ponder the fact that maybe he is right.

  Nate

  We sit on one side of the room, in our little corner of refuge. Winter is standing with Kane, whispering to him but giving sideways glances towards us. I can tell she is telling Kane whatever she can to make sure he doesn’t trust us. Winter is trying her best to create a rift in the group and I honestly don’t know why. What good will it do her? Is she really just trying to protect her father and his deluded government? Or is it just the fact that if her father falls, she will be nothing, she will mean absolutely nothing, and Winter is the type of girl that needs to mean something?

  I see Robert make his way over to us from the hallway. He gives a half-hearted smile to me as he comes closer.

  ‘Hey, is that conversation as bad as it looks?’ I ask Robert as he takes a spot beside me, turning to face towards Winter and Kane as well.

  Robert sighs. So I know I’m wrong. It’s worse.

  ‘Winter’s been going around saying that she overheard a conversation between you two—’ Robert points to myself and Hermia. ‘About you switching sides once we find The Cain.’

  Hermia breaks her gaze from Winter and turns to me. The look in her eyes is upsetting. She is distraught, though she is trying her best to hide it. She does care. I told you she cares.

  ‘Why would we do that?’ Hermia asks me, though I think she means to ask Robert.

  ‘I don’t believe it, but the others are a little cautious. It’s not like we’ve known each other a long time and trust each other.’

  Here I thought I trusted the rest of these people. Or I at least thought that we were all in the same boat.

  ‘Winter can say what she wants,’ Hermia turns back to look at Winter as she continues to speak to Kane. ‘All we can do is prove we’re not the bad guys.’

  Hermia

  I am still a little fuzzy. When I move a certain way a sharp pain will sear through my head. I try to force that fact to the back of my mind, when really I should be doing the opposite.

  I have tracked Chase down, feeling as though seeing him is something I need to do.