Chosen Ones (The Lost Souls, #1)

by Tiffany Truitt

  The whole common room was talking at once. The chosen one stood still, firmly placed, never budging and never flinching. I realized—this wasn’t like before. In the past deportation had been for the elderly and ill, and now they were taking women and children. The definition of deportation had somehow changed without anyone telling us.

  More numbers were being read off. The chosen one kept his voice calm, never once pausing to allow the outcries of my people their proper space. I could barely hear the numbers. I didn’t want to hear them. I had wished to witness other people’s pain but this was simply too much. I’d never meant like this. It was different to take people who truly wanted to leave, but these wives and these children didn’t want deportation. Was there nothing left of our own in our lives?

  My eyes met Louisa’s. How odd they looked. She was petrified. I noticed Jacobson’s gaze on me as well. Something cold was sliding up my spine. It crawled inside my veins, wrapping around my heart. Fear. It was in this moment that I saw Henry’s face. His eyes were squinting, a vein in his forehead protruding, his jaw fixed rigidly. Why were they looking at me in such a way? I tried to move, to turn from their sickening glances, but my body was trembling. It knew something that my soul didn’t yet understand.

  Slowly it clawed its way into the dark corners of my soul, the places that still survived—they had called my number. The truth weaved its way in and out of the strands of hope that held my tattered soul together; the one damaged by the loss of my father, the loss of Emma, the loss of Julia, the betrayal of James. James. His dream. He had told me I was on a list, that they would come for me. Deportation didn’t mean a better life. It meant no life at all.

  I had been wrong. The chosen ones had come up with a way to get rid of my people after all. They wouldn’t wait for our slow and sure extinction. The chosen ones had learned from the past, and they would use its secrets to destroy us. We had blindly ignored our history, comforting ourselves with the belief that the horrors of the times before ours could never be repeated. We stupidly believed mankind had evolved.

  No, science had evolved, and our own lack of perspective would be our downfall. Every number they called, every person that number belonged to, would surely and quickly die. Their deaths would not be mourned. There would be no public outcries, no promises of revenge; the chosen ones had learned how to take those away from us as well. To deport women and children now was to flaunt their growing power. They were no longer afraid to show us they were in control. And there was nothing we could do about it.

  The noise was monstrous, growing in strength every second. I felt like I would go crazy from it all. Should I warn those whose numbers were called? Would they even believe me? Would telling them they went to their deaths, forever separated from those they loved not by distance but by blinding finality, keep it from happening? We couldn’t stop them. We had let it go too far to turn back.

  I wasn’t sure I could live with the guilt if I didn’t tell them. Surely, those husbands who stood by their wives, the sons who were to say good-bye to their fathers, would not just sit idly by. Surely, some of my people would want to fight back. It would mean their demise—of that I was certain. Would their deaths then be on my head, too? I wasn’t brave enough to make this decision. It wasn’t fair. I was only sixteen.

  It was stifling inside the mess hall, my skin blotchy and red from the heat. I tasted something unfamiliar in my mouth. Blood. I had been biting down hard on my tongue. I could feel every inch of my body slowly tensing up, attempting to protect itself. I had to get out of there. I knew I had time to think. They wouldn’t take us for two days. And I wouldn’t be able to think clearly in here.

  James.

  I wondered if he had seen this. If he knew this was the way it was going to end for me. Did he care? The noise in my head was maddening.

  I forced my legs to move, stumbling blindly toward the exit, but then I felt someone grab my hand—it was Louisa. She was crying. This unnerved me. I was already so fragile, and this wasn’t the Louisa I knew. I shuddered. She would be truly alone now. Like me, Emma had been her only confidante. Like me, she had lost her when Robert had entered our lives. How pathetic I was to not realize that we would have understood each other perfectly. Would Robert continue to look after her? Maybe Henry? I needed to make sure of it.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked, her voice shaky. It was in this moment I knew she was still a child. She had been abandoned by the world that was meant to protect her.

  I didn’t know if I was strong enough to do what needed to be done. But for once, I would not be selfish. I would place her needs above my own. How I craved to wrap her in my arms, to share one moment of sisterly affection to carry me to whatever fate had in store. This would comfort me but destroy her. It would be easier for her to deal with my absence if she hated me. Yes, that was something I had learned in my sixteen years of life—hatred was its own shield. If I could only make her loathe me, I would save her the pain of loss.

  “Stop being a baby. They’re simply moving me to a nicer compound,” I replied in a dismissive tone.

  I saw her eyes well with tears. She was biting her bottom lip. She looked down at our hands before finally saying, “But I don’t want you to leave. What will I do with no one here? I know I haven’t been the best sister but I promise I will try harder. Please, can’t you ask them to let you stay? I swear I will be better.”

  She was begging now. It was unbearable.

  “Just because you’re jealous doesn’t mean you have to put on such a self-satisfying show. You’ll be just fine without me, I promise you.”

  “Please,” she begged once more, her voice cracking.

  God was surely testing me. “Stop being pathetic, Louisa. What would my absence mean anyway? Do you think my staying would change our relationship? It wouldn’t. We would still be the way we are now. Emma was the only thing that kept us together, and she’s gone now. Nothing can change that. Just like nothing can change the way I feel about you.” As I said this I tried to muster all the venom I possibly could.

  I was wounding her, causing her pain. For once, I was aware of her as a child, as a younger sister, as someone I was meant to keep safe but had only harmed. I’d never loved her as I should have. This would be my act of love, and she would never see it as that.

  Louisa stiffened and bit the inside of her lip. It was here, in this very moment, that I watched her grief turn into something else, something I had at once dreaded to see and was thankful for—anger. Her hand suddenly flew at my face. I barely had time to protect my already injured cheek. Her hand bounced off of mine, the hand that was meant to hold hers. It had worked. She was running from me now. I could hear a wild sob break free from somewhere deep inside her.

  I was alone now.

  They were going to take me away from Louisa. She would go to Templeton in my place. They would get to her. I couldn’t let that happen. But, God, if it did, I had to make her stronger.

  It was unbearable. My chest felt as if a much too heavy weight was chained to it, and there was no hope of finding the key to unlock it. I was damned. Had I damned everyone else around me as well?

  Chapter 31

  I was going to run. I needed to find help. There had to be someone out there who could help us. I would gamble with the Isolationists in the Middlelands. Or at least I could scout, find some way to get Louisa and me away from this place. Forever.

  I had nothing to take with me, and I had no time for good-byes.

  Maybe I would die, but at least it would be of my own choosing. On my own terms. I might only have a day or two of freedom, but that would be more than most got.

  There were no guards at the doors of the compound. Why would anyone leave? The council had done a fantastic job of creating a prison of fear. As I stepped out into the woods that surrounded our sector, separating it from what was left of the world, I refused to think of the good-byes I didn’t make.

  The deeper I got into the woods, the more I was a
ware of the fact that I was alone. Every noise made me shiver, reminding me I had no chosen one to fight my battles for me anymore. It was so damn dark. I sprinted. Every time I tripped, I pulled myself up. Every time a branch slashed across my skin, I kept pushing. I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew to run.

  I fell to the ground, my weak natural body not used to such physical exertion. I didn’t care that I was covered in dirt and leaves. It was then I heard the footsteps. The hair on the back of my neck shot up, tingling all the way down my spine. Something told me this was wrong. It wasn’t James. No, of course not—there were two sets of footsteps. It was someone else. Someone must have followed me. I began to tremble.

  When I slowly turned around, two men I had never seen in my life stood before me. Chosen ones. I couldn’t miss them. Beautiful, just like they all were, their blue and green eyes shining through the darkness of the night. One held a black bag in his hands.

  No! It was all happening too soon. I wasn’t ready.

  The men took a step forward. Why couldn’t I move from the ground? Why wasn’t my body fighting back? My heart was screaming. I was shaking so much my teeth were slamming against one another.

  Maybe something inside of me wanted this to happen. Maybe I wasn’t strong enough for this place, this prison.

  “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I’m sort of hoping you want me to do it the hard way,” one of the men sneered.

  I still couldn’t move. The other chosen one squatted in front of me, roughly grabbing onto my arm. His breath was next to my ear. “I do so like when we get to take the girls. The council usually lets us play with them a bit first. Funny how they knew you would run for it.”

  He proceeded to yank me from the ground, positioning me so my back was against his chest and I faced his partner. He was grinning. These men were not from Templeton; they were beyond training. These were chosen ones, already selected, already working. Had the council sent them for me? Why?

  He held the bag open in front of my face.

  “I hope you aren’t afraid of the dark.”

  We were in some sort of vehicle. My captors had roughly pushed me into the back, and the vehicle was speeding, thrashing about here and there. I often slammed against the ceiling or bumped against the car door. I would be bruised by morning. If I even saw morning.

  I hadn’t cried. What good would it do? Instead, I’d tried to lie as still as possible. To disappear. To not exist at all. Existence was painful.

  I didn’t even listen to what my captors were discussing. I refused to think about Louisa or James, to think about the world I was leaving. I just focused on breathing, for as long as they would allow me to do so. Suddenly the car came to a halt. I flew into the seat in front of me and felt my head begin to throb. We had stopped. I didn’t care why.

  Only now was I beginning to realize how many mistakes I had made. I didn’t know it was possible to make so many in such a short amount of time. Only sixteen years. Sixteen years I had wasted.

  Someone yanked me out of my introspective haze, pulling me through the now-open door of the vehicle. My futile attempt to bury my pain had been in vain; it had always been in vain. I failed because I was never brave enough to face the darkness of my life. I always found ways of avoiding it—I either shut myself off from those who loved me or completely engrossed myself in one that I should not have cared for. I never fully allowed myself to acknowledge the pain I carried—the pain of the oppressed, the pain of the cast-off, the pain of knowing I deserved better.

  I was on the ground, thrown forcefully by my guards. They didn’t care if they hurt me. I was nothing to them, something easily disposed of and soon forgotten. Would James wonder what had happened to me? Damn. Why couldn’t I force him from my mind?

  The sounds that followed were not what I expected. The two men were arguing; one sounded scared, nervous. I couldn’t make out the exact words as the pounding of my heart beat wildly against my ears.

  Somehow amid their yelling I heard another vehicle approach, and it briefly made me wonder what had caused these men to be so scared. The only ones allowed to own vehicles these days were the chosen ones. Even the transports were driven by chosen ones.

  I heard the crunch of dirt and rocks beneath shoes, then another exchange. Yet still I couldn’t make out the words. My mind wouldn’t focus on deciphering them. Perhaps this was its defense mechanism, its way of protecting itself from the truth. Another tool to avoid the darkness.

  Something painful sliced through the air. My ears were ringing, burning. Again. Dear God, what was going on? Then silence. There was no sound now. This was worse than I could have imagined. Had I died? Was this what awaited those who died…nothing but the smell of the bag and a sharp ringing in the ears?

  No. Someone was pulling me up, leaning me against the car. I didn’t fight him. It meant I was still alive, for which I was thankful. I was surprised at how thankful I was.

  The hands were gentle this time, like they were afraid I would break. Didn’t they know I was already broken beyond repair? I felt someone begin to unbind my hands, sliding slowly up my arms once my hands were free. I shivered. Strangely, not out of repulsion. The hands were near my head now. I could feel the air dance around my face—the bag had been removed from my head. I kept my eyes shut. I was afraid to open them.

  It was then I heard his voice.

  “Tess,” he whispered.

  My eyes shot open.

  James.

  Chapter 32

  The pain was bursting now. I could feel angry tears threaten to spill from my eyes. My legs felt weak. I couldn’t stand, so I crumbled slowly to the floor, sliding against the cold walls of the car. I clawed my fingers into the dirt; I needed something to stabilize me.

  James knelt before me. Why was he here? Was he choosing to run, too?

  Or was he simply doing his job?

  “Tess, I can’t explain right now. I know you have questions, but we need to move.” His voice was tense. I closed my eyes again, hoping to banish the image of James in this place.

  “We can’t leave yet. You know there is something we have to do first.” This was a voice I couldn’t label, but one that wasn’t utterly new to me, either.

  James cleared his throat. The familiar, too human sound caused my eyes to flutter open. His hands were shaking; he looked almost ill. My eyes traveled to his partner. I stared in disbelief at one of the “doctors” from my inspection.

  “Don’t be alarmed. This is my creator, Kendall.”

  Kendall held out his hand. He seemed thrilled, eager. “Pleasure to meet you, Tess. Well, I guess we have already met, sorta,” he said with a small laugh.

  “No,” I managed to say. It was all I could say. No.

  “We really do mean to help you. I know it seems a bit far-fetched, all things considered, but I’m a natural just like you. I wouldn’t, couldn’t possibly hurt one of my own kind. Now before we go, we have to do something first. It might sting a little,” Kendall said as he crouched down beside me. He moved to my skirt and proceeded to slide it up my leg.

  It all happened so fast. My hand sprung from the dirt, clutched the fingers together, and flew at his face. I felt no pain, though I was sure it would come later. But my heart sang with approval. Kendall whimpered five feet away from me. I shot James an icy look. Would I be brave enough to hit him, too?

  Yes. I would.

  He held his hands out in front of him, echoing a moment earlier in our relationship. Only this time I wasn’t afraid of him—he was afraid of me. I was glad.

  “Tess, they placed a tracking device in you. They did it to all the naturals.”

  “No. Impossible. I would remember something like that,” I said, shaking my head. Was there any memory I could trust? Anything not touched by the council?

  “You were a child, girl. Your momma probably told you it was just a shot,” Kendall grunted, holding his bloody nose.

  Yes. My mom. I remembered she was half drunk when w
e stumbled to the tents that served as our medical station at the time. Everything was still chaotic in those days. The first chosen ones had been created, but the council was still working on building the compounds for each sector. I’d tried to grab her hand as the doctor stuck the needle into my thigh, but she pulled it away.

  “If we don’t get the tracker out, they will be able to find you. I can’t take them all on my own. And we need time to plan. If we don’t do this now then there is no hope,” James continued. His voice conveyed every ounce of despair he could portray. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe he wasn’t the monster who beat George to an inch of his life. My mind frantically searched for a counterargument but could find none.

  We stared at each other, only the sound of our breathing breaking the silence. It came out ragged but strangely in tune with each other, as if that was always how it was meant to be. I gritted my teeth. I was dead anyway.

  “Fine,” I spat, “tell me how to do it.”

  “Tess, I don’t think you should,” James pleaded.

  I shook my head furiously. This was something I had to do myself.

  Kendall was before us, holding a hand over his nose. I guess I packed a good punch. He proceeded to give something to James, silver flashing against the darkness of the sky.

  James’s eyes met mine once more, and his hand slowly reached for the hem of my skirt. He cautiously lifted it up, pausing above my knee. He cleared his throat, and I felt my cheeks burn hot. “The tracking device is in the thigh. I’ll have to lift this a bit higher.”

  I nodded weakly, felt my mouth go dry. I nodded to Kendall. “Tell him to turn around. I think he’s seen enough of me.”

  “Don’t be foolish. I need him to guide you.” James’s voice carried a new edge, a rawness I was unaccustomed to.

  “Then he can guide me with his back turned. If he’s such a humanitarian, I am sure this isn’t the first one he’s removed. He should be able to do it easily.”