by Lane, Styna
‘Al?’ Jason’s shaky voice asked in what sounded like a plea.
Al’s chest heaved with a sigh as he dropped to his knees, removing the sheet I had just placed so carefully on the corpse of one of my best friends. He responded to my look of confusion with one of anguish and appeasement. My coldness faltered as tiny orbs of white light—much smaller than those we used to heal—drifted down from his free hand and seeped into Paula’s body. For a moment, radiant specks illuminated her entire being just beneath the surface, before she began to dissolve into glowing ashes. I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I knew that it was beautiful and peaceful.
‘Thank you.’ I wasn’t sure who I was actually thanking, but uttering the thought was enough to pull me back to my feet.
Al seemed weak, but we continued our trek downward in The Facility. William’s men had done a pretty decent job of making sure everyone was very dead, but we checked every single body for life. I watched as Mattie and Jason sighed with mourning at the confirmation of each death, both wishing so strongly that they could save these strangers. People they didn’t know, people who had devoted their lives—many, unknowingly—to capturing our kind, and these children wanted nothing more than to help them.
My breath caught as we stumbled onto a very familiar floor, where the streets were lined with white picket fences, perfectly-tended lawns, and identical houses. Remnants of the decorations from my birthday party still littered the ground. Apparently, I had not given them enough time to clean up before I earthquaked the place to pieces.
The computer-generated sky had given way to dark gray panels, and blinding security lights beamed rigidly downward, giving The Village the structured feel of a prison. These surroundings were one of the many truths that The Facility had worked so skillfully to deny—that all within its walls were hostages, even the ones who chose to be there.
Before we made our way to the first house, something in the middle of the street caught my eye; a small box, wrapped in silver and blue paper. It took me a moment to realize why I recognized it, but the memory slowly crept through my mind, as if my brain were desperately trying to suppress it. Eric had dropped it when he saw me in Al’s arms. I had completely forgotten about it by the end of the party.
I bent down, reaching for the box as if it might explode at my touch. Mattie and Jason took a couple steps toward me, but Al held up his arm and shook his head. The wrapping came off easily and fell to the ground, leaving a dark, velvety box in my palm. I remembered it vividly from when Eric had proposed to me. Popping the lid open, I found the ring I was expecting to see, but it was tucked into a note scrawled in Eric’s nearly-unreadable handwriting. It reminded me of when we were younger, and we’d sneak notes to each other under the dinner table. They never really said much, but it made us feel mischievous, having a secret conversation right in front of Emmy and Eddie. The notes had immediately ceased, of course, when Emmy intercepted one that mentioned something about her meatloaf tasting of dead skunk. Not that her meatloaf actually tasted of a dead skunk. Emmy was, really, quite a good cook. But we were young, and it seemed like an appropriate thing to complain about in a dinner-time note.
Angie,
I just wanted to say I’m sorry for freaking you out.
I won’t pretend I don’t love you. But the thought of you with Al I can’t. I know you don’t feel the same way. I hope we can still be friends I’ll miss you.
All the best, Love, Goodbye,
Eric
P.S. I spent all my money on this ring, and I don’t have any use for it I still want you to have this.
I dropped the note to the ground, holding the cold ring between my fingers. Rays bounced from the security lights off the tiny diamond, and reflected against my skin like fireflies against the night. Becoming very aware of the stares from Al and the others, I shook my head and slipped the ring onto my finger for safe keeping.
“Come on, then,” I said, choking back the hurt in my voice as I walked toward the first house. Nobody seemed to feel the need to question me as they followed.
We searched each house, only finding more of the same lifeless bodies. Faces I didn’t recognize of people I never tried to know. I was both relieved and disturbed when we found Dr. Helmsworth’s… Grandpa’s… house to be empty. We had yet to come across his body, and it left me more fearful for what we might find on the few levels still below us.
There were two more houses to search in The Village. I breathed deeply as I pushed the door open to the second-to-last house at the end of the street. An audible wail forced itself past my lips, as my eyes immediately landed on two small feet in the entranceway of the sitting room.
Chapter Twelve
Alone
I struggled against the strength of Mattie’s hand, unsuccessfully attempting to pry myself away at the overwhelming need to hold Jenny in my arms. Collapsing next to her, I heaved her small, unmoving body onto one of my shoulders, rocking as I sobbed. I cried the tears she could not cry. I cried for the life she’d had within The Facility, and for the years that were stolen from her. I cried for her parents, whose bodies were not far from her own. I cried because she had wanted so much to be like me, and because it was my fault that she was dead.
‘Don’t take this guilt out on yourself, Angie. This is not your fault. You didn’t pull the trigger.’ Al’s voice rang throughout my head. I looked up to him with wet, angry eyes, because I couldn’t cry anymore.
“Do it,” I ordered aloud, not caring if there was anyone else around to hear. I was met by hesitation and regret.
“I can’t,” Al said.
“Why not?” My tone was hard and full of hate.
“Because—” Jason began, the look on his face suggesting that I should have known the answer. Al held up a hand to quiet him.
“Because Paula was different.” Al’s words were cryptic, and they filled me with more anger for the answers that everyone seemed to want to keep from me. “For now, all I can tell you is that… I can’t.”
I looked down at Jenny’s frail body, and lowered her back to the floor as carefully as I could. The hardness in my face returned with a vengeance as I caught one last glimpse of her hair before covering her with a blanket from a chair. No one felt the need to interrupt the moment of silence that was consuming me, probably thinking it was in mourning. My eyes shifted to Mattie’s hand, still clasping my own, and it took me only a fraction of a second to make my decision.
Through our contact, I forced Mattie’s vision to cloud over, sending her into the experience of my electrocution after I’d accidentally caused the quake that had led to Eddie’s death. She felt the agony I had felt, and shouted as she yanked her hand away in pain.
“Angie, no!” Al called after me as I ran from the house, unprotected by Mattie’s gift.
A whispered breath from my own lungs swirled around me as I moved, growing until it became a gust strong enough to knock Emmy’s door from its hinges. The wind only continued to build as I searched the house, until furniture was shifting dangerously across the floor. Al stumbled in after me, but I bounded up the stairs before he could reach my arm.
‘Angie! Stop this!’ his voice shouted inside my head.
The wind did cease, but not at his request. Eric’s room had been empty, but the master bedroom held a single corpse. I lowered myself next to Emmy’s body, only made aware that Al, Jason, and Mattie were standing in the doorway by the heavy sounds of their breath.
‘You put us all in danger,’ Al scolded, looking over Mattie’s hand to make sure she wasn’t hurt.
“How?” I cried, falling back from my knees to lean against the wall. “We are alone here. Everyone is dead.”
Al’s shoulders slouched as he pinched the bridge of his nose, seemingly trying to force himself to disagree with me. He couldn’t, because it wouldn’t have been convincing. It wouldn’t have been true. Staring blankly into the space before me made it difficult to notice when he’d popped his eyes open, cocking his head as he
examined the body from a distance.
“No, they’re not,” he said, rushing to Emmy’s side.
I had to strain my eyes in order to see her chest moving ever so slightly up and down. I felt for a heartbeat. It was faint, but it was there, and mine felt like it was going to thud right out of my body. I didn’t think twice before forcing the healing light from my palms, but Al quickly stopped me. Instead, he took one of my hands and produced the light himself. It felt like strands as thin as silk were tugging from all parts of my body, as he drew from my power to make his own stronger. The holes in Emmy’s chest closed, leaving only shiny pink marks behind. I waited anxiously, until she finally shot upward, gasping and choking as she regained the life that had been slipping away from her.
Emmy looked from face to face, trying to gain some sort of clarity, until her gaze eventually landed on me. At first, I thought she might slap me, but I was relieved when she leaned forward, embracing me in a hug I had needed for a very long time. Her animosity towards me seemed to have disappeared, or at least lessened.
“Oh, Angie,” she said, crying into my shoulder. “You saved me?”
I pulled away from her, tears wetting my own face, and shook my head.
“Al did.”
Emmy looked confused, and I quickly remembered that she had no idea about the others.
“You’re… you’re like her?” she questioned, lowering her brow.
Al seemed oddly distracted, but nodded silently before rising to help her to her feet. Emmy looked like she was nearly going to collapse at the sight of her own blood, and wrapped her arm around me for support.
“Emmy, do you know what happened here?” I asked, leading her away from the gruesome sight. She closed her eyes in recollection.
“I heard gun shots… and then they came,” she recalled, before clasping her hand to her mouth. I felt her legs wobble under her weight. “They took him. They took my baby.”
I glanced warily at Al behind us.
‘She genuinely believes they kidnapped Eric,’ he said, still seeming unfocussed.
Jason helped me move Emmy down the stairs into the sitting room. We lowered her onto the couch, and I hurried to bring her a damp rag from the kitchen. She looked at it curiously for a moment, before realizing it was for wiping the blood from her face. After a long while of trying to calm herself down, Emmy inevitably glanced up at Mattie and Jason.
“You’re all… You’re like Angie?” she asked.
Mattie and Jason looked to Al, who gave them permission to respond truthfully. They nodded, and Emmy shook her head, lowering her face to her palms.
“I had no idea,” she began, but seemed to catch herself before finishing her sentence. “What is the rest of The Facility like?”
All eyes shifted to me. Apparently, since I knew her best, it was my responsibility to tell her that everyone she had known for the last eighteen years was all kinds of dead. I sighed and sat next to her, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder.
“So far, you’re the only one we’ve found… alive. But we still have the lower levels to check.”
I felt her tremble under my arm, but she held her composure. She had always been strong.
“Go,” she whispered. “Someone else might need you.”
“I’m not going to leave you here alone,” I said disbelievingly, shaking my head at Al as he thoughtlessly moved toward the front door.
“I’ll be fine,” she sniffled, wiping her nose on the bloody cloth.
“I’ll stay with her,” Jason volunteered.
Emmy seemed taken aback by the thought, and Al squinted at her with skepticism before finally nodding his head in approval.
“This is Jason,” I said softly to Emmy, hoping to ease her worries of chilling with a random person ‘like me,’ whose powers were not restrained by Electro-Cuffs. “He’s a good kid, and he’ll make sure nothing bad happens… again.”
Emmy finally nodded, but her eyes still showed her concern. I glanced back at her one last time before leading Al and Mattie out of the house.
‘What’s wrong?’ My words did not need to be heard by Mattie, and I was happy to find that they lacked the echoed sounds of group-communication.
‘Nothing,’ Al lied.
Chapter Thirteen
Aberration
I hadn’t visited any of the other Neighborhoods in The Facility, much. I’d never really had a reason to. I had grown so used to the other floors, I’d forgotten how fantastical it was to see such things inside, underground. Mattie was dumbfounded by The City, a somewhat dirty place with multi-level apartment buildings. Parts of the computer-generated sky still flickered, giving the impression of surrounding skyscrapers. A skipping soundtrack of car horns and ornery cats bounced off the walls, and the sudden lack of silence was unnerving.
The innards of the buildings were just as gory and depressing as I’d expected them to be. Whether it was due to the fact that I had not been comprehending how many lifeless bodies I’d been stepping over and it finally caught up with me, or because I had become so unaffected by the sight that my mind felt the need to slap me in the face for being an insensitive psycho, a wave of nausea rushed over me and forced me to kneel down against a wall in an empty bedroom. I would have liked to think the tears that were rapidly streaming down my face were caused by remorse, but they weren’t. They were tears of hopelessness for a race that could produce such a monster, capable of taking so many lives. Reagan had told me our kind avoided harming other living things, if at all possible, but I still returned to the thought that if The Destructive Ones didn’t exist, neither would the pain and terror they caused to us, to the planet, to their own kind. And I didn’t feel guilty for thinking it.
I was pulled from the midst of my philosophical-wonderings by a shuffling sound from within the closet. At first, I was nervous that I didn’t have any sort of weapon to protect myself with. But then I remembered that I could shoot fireballs from my hands. I swiped a pack of matches from next to a candle on the bedside table, and moved toward the closet. For a brief moment, I considered retrieving Al and Mattie from the other rooms, but there didn’t seem to be much of a reason to end my eighteen-year-long trend of stubbornness just yet.
I lit a match, taking the fire into my palm, just in case. As I reached for the closet door, another shuffle came from inside, followed by a distinct shushing sound. I ripped the door open and held my hand at the ready in front of me. My jaw dropped at the sight of two familiar, illuminated young faces. We had never been close, but I remembered them from my last birthday party.
“Angie!” the girl I recognized as Sarah shouted, bounding from her spot on the closet floor to embrace me in a trembling hug.
I closed my fist behind her back, extinguishing the unnecessary flame-of-doom after noticing the other girl, whose name I couldn’t remember, was staring at it nervously. I was at a loss for words. I honestly hadn’t expected to find any other survivors, let alone a couple of teenage girls.
“Are you guys okay?” I asked, looking them both over for bullet-holes.
“Kayla’s leg is hurt,” Sarah said, helping her friend out of the closet and onto the bed.
Kayla. I knew that.
“Let me see.” But the injured girl leaned away from my reach. My temper took off, and showed no sign of sensitivity to the fact that these girls had lost their families. “Look around you, kid. If you want help, it’s gonna have to come from me.”
Kayla’s eyes widened. For a moment, I thought she was going to burst into tears—I wouldn’t have blamed her. I was surprised to see her roll up her jeans, revealing a very deep—and very infected—gash, with just the slightest hint of bone sticking out. She kept her gaze trained on me as I examined the wound. Even if she was only letting me help her because she was terrified of me, at least she was letting me help her at all.
“What happened?” I asked, feeling around the leg in the way Al had done to my nose. I didn’t really know what I was feeling for, but it se
emed like the right thing to do.
“We were in The Farm when they started shooting. We hid under a pile of hay, but the cows freaked when they heard the shots, and one of them stepped on her.” Sarah held her friend’s hand as she explained.
“Al!” Mattie shouted hurriedly from the door of the bedroom, catching me off guard.
Kayla and Sarah jumped at the sight of another person, eyeing her with apprehension.
“It’s okay, she’s with me. She’s like me,” I explained, which didn’t seem to ease Kayla’s concerns.
“There… there are more of you?” Sarah began, gasping as Al rushed into the room. “You?!”
Al smiled gently and nodded at her. I found it a bit amusing that, even in the midst of all the horror, this girl had the nerve to blush. Don’t get me wrong, Al was an attractive fellow… but the sight of his face probably wouldn’t have been enough to distract me from the death of my parents.
“That’s some leg you got there,” he said, staring grimly at the wound. “You’re going to need something to bite down on.”
Sarah retrieved a plain leather belt from the closet, but Kayla clamped her jaw shut and turned her head. Sarah sighed, placing her palm softly on her friend’s cheek.
“If you don’t trust them, then trust me,” she said softly, locking eyes with Kayla.
The girl surrendered, glaring weakly as Sarah shoved the belt into her mouth and kissed her on the forehead. Al took a deep breath, precisely placing his hands on her leg before shifting them with a swift crack. Kayla writhed on the bed, her howl muffled by the belt. As soon as Al had set the bone, he poured light into the wound, until her pain was completely eradicated.
