“Okay, let’s go. Chicago twins lead the way,” I snicker, eyeing Sean and Marc.
They give me insulted leers, conveying I’ve said something disrespectful. But I’m serious. “You’re identical and are from Chicago. It makes sense.”
“Hush, Ky,” Sean snorts. “Your jokes are less funny than mine.”
We run to the spot as Jord instructed. The six of us keep up with each other, hastening down empty streets and passing abandoned buildings. We shoot and toss grenades into groups of Zombies and X-Gens.
Before, I felt a little bad about killing them, knowing they were created by those who are like us, and I thought they held a greater purpose than to only attack people. But now, knowing their mission is just as pointless as mine, I’ll kill them with no remorse.
The buildings end on one side, exposing us to a park on a street called Lake Shore Drive. The wind is cool and steady, filling the air with the scent of lake water and trees.
“This is a building we used for training,” Sean yells out. “Come on, Ky. Check this out.” He jumps down to a ledge.
I follow him, doing the same, as he runs across paved ground to the concrete stairs of the building. “Oh, this is going to be fun,” I say aloud. It’s a mini obstacle course.
We race up two flights of stairs, maybe more interested about having fun than making it to the chopper. Luke and Marc yell for us to knock it off as they run down the less fun street beside us.
Up the stairs, we rush through a walking area where a course is inside the building. We flip and do unnecessary things like swing on the bars and flip through openings from the inside to the outside. We hoot as we parkour down a few flights of stairs.
The black building is in the distance with a transport copter arriving.
This city is beautiful—water to my left, beyond grass, trees, and a ledge I’d enjoy jumping from to the lake. Maybe on a good day, this park would be crowded with adults, children, and pets. Local Creations would attend to their needs and their safety. They’d all bask in the sun and soak up a glorious day of freedom and peace. That’s the kind of day I hope this world will see in its future.
Sean and I make it back to Luke and Marc on the street.
Many Creations in black suits are cheering, rushing toward us from a street we’re coming upon. Carla and Katy join them—more permanent residents of the city. They see Marc and Sean when our streets intersect, greeting them with hugs, high-fives, and fist bumps.
Luke and I wait while they close their reunion.
From another street, X-Gens are approaching, but their numbers are little, ten of them, tops. “We’ll hold them off for you,” a tall girl shouts with a smile. “Thank you for coming and for helping. We appreciate this.” She throws up two fingers then waves.
From roofs of nearby buildings, more black-suited Creations cheer, chanting their city’s name and hooting. We wave to them.
“Not a problem,” Luke yells over the excitement.
We race to the black building, hoping to catch the copter. Instead of running through the building, we jump, flip, and climb up the side of it to make it to the roof. It’s faster.
We catch the copter as it’s taking off. They throw a rope ladder down for us, and we’re forced to ascend it as we swing in the air, climbing up, and into the aircraft.
“Is there anything any of you want to discuss before we get back?” Jord’s voice comes through the headphones they give us. After no one responds, he continues, “I expect for none of this to be discussed after our return. Neither amongst yourselves or with others. Respond,” he says softly.
“We understand.” We follow, not as hard and assuring as we usually would, but tired and sure.
Cory’s on my left. After running for hours, I’m beat, but he’s why I cannot take this thirty-minutes flight to rest up.
“Ky,” Cory says in my ear. I don’t understand why he would whisper my name instead of saying what he wanted.
He doesn’t finish so I say, “What?” without facing him.
“Can I talk to you when we get back? Without your brother and someone breathing down your neck? Away from your room and your house? You must know I would never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. I’m sorry about everything, Ky. I care about you.”
Care about me? What does care about me mean? How does that change things?
I won’t respond. I avoid his unswerving gawk and keep my eyes closed the remainder of the flight.
“You want to sleep when we get on the bus?” Luke asks as we jog from the helicopter.
“Do you?” I ask.
“Yes. I’m glad we’re back. It feels like being back is what drew on my fatigue.”
“I’m tired too.”
“Take today and tomorrow off,” Jord says once the bus takes off. “Kylie, I know you have work to do, but you can have the time off as well. Do not worry about your groups today or Separation. The group of you were not chosen to accompany me on this mission by chance. The six of you have nothing else to prove to me. Congratulations.”
He goes silent and none of us responds.
I lean my head against Luke’s shoulder, and his head falls against mine. I immediately fall asleep. But in what seems like five minutes, he’s waking me up again, pulling me from the bus.
All I think is shower and bed, over and over. I lug myself from my room to the shower and from the shower back to my room to drop off my clothes.
On my way to Luke’s room, I run into Marc. He crosses to the other side of the hall and avoids my gaze. Passing me, he asks, “You’re talking to Cory later?”
I stop in the middle of the hall. “No, why do you ask?”
“Just a question.” He continues onward and doesn’t look back. I watch him leave as I contemplate following him or letting him go. After what happened earlier, how can it be even more awkward now?
I let him go, too tired to understand what I did to change his demeanor. When I enter the room, Luke’s already here, lying on his stomach.
“What happened?” he asks as I climb over him.
I lie down, recalling the worst of the news from this trip. “They plan to destroy the world,” I mutter.
“The world?” he blurts. “The entire world?”
“Yes. Her exact words were to ‘enjoy it while you can’, and after this mission, we will be destroyed or moved to someplace else. She told me after she took out the infection that I could kill them and follow through with this mission. But Luke, now it’s pointless. It’s not like how they told us it’d be. We’ve fought and worked on getting to where we are for nothing. They said, ‘Make it to leadership, Kylie and Lukahn, we’ll need you later to enforce a change of better living on this planet,’ but I think they really want us to lead everyone into the destruction.”
He sits up, and his arm rubs across my forehead so fast it heats from the friction. I rub it. “Into the destruction?” he questions.
“Yes, she said there was no avoiding it.”
“What was once us protecting the world from destruction from the others, from themselves, has now turned into us destroying it…And the reason is destruction?” he questions, confusion lacing his tone, as he tries to make sense of what I said.
“Yes, never have they told me to enjoy it while I’m here. As if these were the last days I’ll get to experience this place. They’ve always said to stick to my mission. To remember why I’m here and not let my comfort control my thinking. To not forget our purpose. But for her to say enjoy it, it has to be true.”
“What was the name of the one you spoke with?”
“Lafren,” I answer.
“Lafren. She’s guidance for them. She’s dead?”
“I don’t think she is, but the X-Gen she was in was dead.” The entire situation has thrown me for a loop. How quickly she took over that Zombie, and her ability to heal me from it. She didn’t hold back her honesty, and for her to flat-out tell me they’ll dispose of us makes my stomach turn. I don’t know what we shou
ld do any more.
“I believe you, what you said. I just want to reach out to them, to understand.”
“It’s okay. I’m just as confused.” We’ve always had a purpose. Here and now, we don’t anymore.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Coming out of Luke’s room, it never fails, I run into Marc. He stalks past me saying nothing, not even throwing a glance in my direction, and the heat of rejection burns my cheeks. Before I address him, I clean up and change. Luke’s gone off to a discreet location to reach out to the Vojin, which should give me some time to see what’s going on with Marc without it looking too suspicious.
“Ky?” Cory calls sorrowfully. He catches me leaving the stalls, standing between me and the den, or the living room, or the kitchen, or wherever Marc is.
I glance up at the ceiling. “What?”
He draws his arms behind his back and looks me in my eyes. “I just want to say I’m genuinely sorry for betraying your trust. I understand what I did now, and why you feel I’m not worthy of your time.” He throws his hands up. Remorse knits his brows as he drops his gaze to the floor. “I’m not worthy of it. I should have never stepped foot into your room with or without your permission. I read all those signals wrong, and I want you to forgive me when you’re ready.” His arms lower to his sides, and he slowly lifts his gaze. “Second to my sister, you were my best friend before I left, and while I always liked you, I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
My scowl morphs into a subtle smile. This is the Cory I’m familiar with. The guy who takes accountability and has respect for me. Who understands no does mean no. “Thanks, Cory. I appreciate that.”
He takes a step toward me as Marc’s passing. His hooded eyes look my way before looking away to the stairs where he heads.
“Will you excuse me, Cory. I need to talk to Marc.” I walk backward toward the stairs, adding, “But your apology means a lot.”
He shrugs and turns for the door, muttering, “Sure.”
I climb the stairs two at a time. “Marc,” I call, hitting top step. “Wait.”
He enters his room and closes the door. But I know he heard me.
I’m struck. Silenced for a second, unable to understand why he’s acting so weird all of a sudden. I walk down the hall to his room and stand in front of his door. I hold my breath, taking the doorknob in my sweaty hand. This is beyond uncomfortable, but I’m going to take the chance. What’s the worst that could happen? He tells me to get out. Maybe slap me for coming in his room without knocking and unannounced.
Letting go of my breath, I twist the knob and push open the door.
Stepping into his room, I scan it—an exact replica of the others—and spot him, lying across his bed, looking back at me.
I close the door behind me, and I lean my back against it. “Sorry I just walked in,” I say in an unintentional whisper. Nerves draining my confidence—he drains my confidence—I swallow hard. No matter what I do, he will always reject me.
He stands and crosses the floor. “I thought that was over,” he says, leaving a foot between us.
That? Cory? I shake my head. “That was nothing. He was just apologizing.”
“Not the way I see it.” His rasp is strong in his accusing tone. “Him whispering in your ear yesterday, him always here with you.”
He reaches out, and I hope he’s going to touch me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he grabs the doorknob. “Bye, Ky. I need to get some sleep.”
“Wait.” I grab his wrist and move his hand from the knob. “I honestly want nothing to do with him. And now you know that and he knows that,” I say, shaky and hesitant, unable to grasp hold of my nerves.
“You’re sure?” he questions, looking me over.
“Without a doubt. You are what I’m interested in,” I answer nervously, pointing at him.
He grabs my waist with the hand of the wrist I hold. I feel the warmth of his hand through the thin fabric of my shirt. This interaction is different than before. No one has touched me here, so close to my skin. It’s aggressive, and it bum-rushes me like a blow to the chest that causes the pain to burst through my body. But this doesn’t hurt. It feels like I’m lacking something I need, less like a pain and more like an aching.
“Me, huh?” he questions, already knowing this would be my answer. He had to.
“You,” I utter. “You are different.” I take slow breaths. There’s so much I want to do right now, none of which is appropriate. But maybe a kiss like the one in the alley will be enough. Maybe now, when we are not under attack by Zombies, I can touch him. Maybe…
“You want to go?”
I shake my head. I look his shirt over, dropping my eyes to its hem. I grab it and slip my hand beneath it to touch his stomach. He’s as hard as he looks, like the day I saw him bare-chested in the hall.
He pulls it off.
I stare, placing both hands on him, nearest his neck. I’ve never touched a boy this way. I’ve wanted to but never had anyone I was attracted to until now. Until I met him.
He places his hands over mine and moves them so I can feel him underneath my touch. We slide down over the hills and slopes of his upper body. I get to his waist and move around him to his back. I don’t know why, or what makes me, but I pull him closer.
As our bodies meet, he greets me with his lips. A kiss as gentle as a breeze.
Like in the alley, our lips are already familiar with each other. Again, a heat wave rushes over me and my chest rises, pressing against him.
He breaks our kiss, and like yesterday, my lips instantly miss his. “I have a real issue with jealousy,” he says, “and I don’t like him.” I nod. “I am also very selfish.”
“Right.” Just, shut up and kiss me. Again. And again.
“I don’t mean to come off as a tyrant.”
“Un-huh.”
He looks away from me, adding, “So, I need to be the only guy you’re kissing, the only guy touching you, and he cannot touch you. Not even to escort you to an execution.”
I nod, impatiently waiting for his lips to return.
“Respond,” he says low with authority.
I bite back my smile. “I understand.”
“And I’ll give you the same.”
“I thought you said you weren’t kissing anyone.”
“No. I said no one has ever seen me with my clothes off. I’ve kissed plenty.”
I purse my lips. An uneasy feeling crawls over me. I’ve only kissed one, and now two, including him. “And touched?” I question. My own jealousy of the ones who came before me twitches my trigger finger.
“Not the way I touch you or want to.” His hand on my back slips under my shirt, touching my bare skin. It slowly moves to my hips and grabs me firmly. My skin ripples under his touch, tightening and letting go, chilling and warming. I’m shaking, and I hope he can’t tell.
“Good,” I stammer. In my mind, his hands are exploring my body, roughened hands scraping over my flesh. I’m panting, and realizing it, I quiet my hastened breaths so he can’t tell, but he does.
I try something I’ve only seen in movies or seen girls back home do to their boyfriends.
I press my lips against his neck, and he exhales deeply, shoulders falling slack as he draws even closer.
Slowly, hesitantly, his hands slide down over my hips. They rest there, and though it feels strange, I don’t move them. More of me wants it than doesn’t.
I touch my tongue to his neck and glide it over its right side, my bottom lip trailing behind it. My lips grasp onto him, and he roughly grips my butt, pulling me against him.
Our hips align, and I jump back. “Um, what was that?”
Marc takes a step back, his grip on me loosening, hands moving to my hips. “Sorry,” he says looking down before his eyes rise to mine.
My gaze falls to the floor. In my mind, I keep hearing, Enjoy it while you can. And this is a new enjoyment for me. Lightning’s sparking in places I haven’t had the opportunity to acknowledge. I know how
far is too far, and I wouldn’t go that far. I don’t think he would either. But I will straddle the line nearly too far and come back before we fall over.
Ignoring my insecurities, I kiss him. What the hell is there to lose? As long as we don’t get caught…
He’s hesitant, his kiss lighter, body tense. Nothing has changed in me, but he’s restrained. I may need to make him feel as uncomfortable as he may think he made me.
I pull my shirt over my head, letting it fall from my hand to the floor, now overly confident. His eyebrows rise, but his eyes remain sober. “Not a first?” I ask, curious to know if there have been others in his past to go this far.
“Not a first,” he confirms. “Yet.”
“It is for me,” I say.
He nods and makes the space between us disappear. Kissing me softly, hands comfortably resting on my hips, we turn in sync, and I fall onto his bed with him coming with me. His lips part from mine, leaving me with the remnants of his taste. My desire for them to return is short-lived as he lowers, kissing my neck and further down to my chest.
Shivers hum through my body. Each of his moves—his kisses, his touches—are mind-blowing. They’re all somehow questioning, hesitating before he follows through.
Hesitantly, as though he was anticipating my rejection, his hand travels along the lines of my bra before he removes it, and I’m exposed to his lavender eyes. My first thought is to shy away, but his lips meet me. My entire body flushes with heat, and I sigh from a sensation I’ve never experienced.
It’s better than the first day I pulled a trigger, more exhilarating than winning a race and more enticing than earning a title.
“Shh,” Marc hushes, kissing my neck, my jaw, and then my lips. My hands gain a mind of their own and grab his waist, tugging him to me. Our hips align, and my body tingles, causing another sigh to erupt from my throat.
I gasp, shuffling from beneath him as I’m shoving him off me. Straightening my clothes, I sit up, and he’s backing away from the edge of his bed. “Umm,” I say, grabbing my shirt he hands to me. A million feelings rush through my body, and I want to bury my flushed face in my hands and turn invisible. Standing as I’m pulling on my shirt, I mumble, “I need to go.”
Imminent Threat: A Young Adult Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Series (The Separation Trilogy Book 1) Page 20
