Abandon

by Elana Johnson

  She marched away from me, leaving me in the dark, stunned. I scrambled to follow and immediately wished I hadn’t when the scent of blood hit me. The terrible, cloying smell told me there was a lot of blood. Vi’s hand-torch illuminated a body, and I had to force myself to take the last few steps to join her.

  The body breathed, the chest rising and falling in ragged gasps. The body wore jeans, but its shirt had been clawed to ribbons. Blood seeped from its wounded flesh.

  The body twitched, causing a wet squelching sound to shatter the quiet.

  I closed my eyes for fear of throwing up when I looked at the face. Or what was left of it.

  “Vi,” I said weakly. I doubled over, pressing my eyes closed to block out the sight of all that blood.

  “A scout,” she said in a distant tone. “There will be another one. They travel in twos.”

  I opened my eyes and straightened as Vi searched the darkness by the light of her freaky burning hand. I thought for a second I might be hallucinating, because this situation was too surreal. Vi didn’t hurt people. She didn’t make them hurt themselves.

  In the strange light Vi’s face caught the shadows and trapped them. She looked fierce. Dangerous.

  Deadly.

  “Violet,” I said, a pleading note in my voice now.

  She didn’t spare me a glance, but strode over to our hoverboards. I hadn’t taken three steps when more screaming shattered the darkness.

  Vi darted behind a tree, haloing the branches with her mind-induced light. She looked perfectly calm, pressed into the trunk, waiting for the shrieking to stop. I covered my ears until I couldn’t hear anything, and then I approached Vi slowly, as if she were a vicious animal I might spook.

  And she was.

  She stood so straight it must’ve hurt. Her fist burned. Waves of energy practically poured from her body.

  I maintained a healthy distance between us and didn’t look at the body lying a few feet away. I felt certain that if I did, I’d never be able to close my eyes without seeing—

  “Violet, please.” I didn’t want to believe that Vi had entered the minds of the scouts and made them kill themselves. But she had, and I knew she had. “Violet?” I asked now.

  “He’s already sent a preliminary report,” she said coldly. “Four teams are on their way to this location. We need to leave. Now.” She went to retrieve our boards and backpacks.

  Then she tugged gently on my hand, which hung lifelessly at my side. I couldn’t move.

  “Come on.” She spoke softly, like she was talking to a child.

  I stepped onto my waiting hoverboard, unable to command it to operate.

  Didn’t matter. Vi could control the board. She could control anything.

  The two dead men lying on the ground were a testament to that.

  * * *

  Nightmares looped through my alert mind. First the one where I was buried in the capsule. The sound of dirt pinging against metal: I would never forget that sound. I jerked to attention and listened.

  Nothing.

  No pebbles landing above me. No hiss as oxygen forced its way into the confined space.

  I settled back into the lulling vibrations of my hoverboard and immediately saw Vi use her mind control to torture people. Suddenly I had a horrifying thought.

  What if I hadn’t been buried alive? What if the Thinkers had just made me think I was? The way Vi made those two scouts think their own flesh needed to be peeled from their bones?

  I closed my eyes against the memories. I couldn’t decide which was worse: being buried alive for real, or the mental violation if I hadn’t.

  For the longest time I felt nothing from Vi. She existed inside her own sphere of reality, and I managed to keep breathing in mine. Perhaps I was simply too wrapped up in my own troubles, because the next thing I knew, Vi was sobbing. I couldn’t hear her, but I was aware of her pain as if it were my own. A wave of her grief/regret/guilt/horror flattened me, physically pushing me onto my back on my hoverboard.

  I had no idea what to say to make this better. Instead I flew in close to her. She cried into my chest. “Tether,” I whispered, and her board attached to mine. I wrapped my arms around Vi in an effort to protect her from herself.

  * * *

  We touched down when the night breathed out the last of its darkness and the sky held the first hint of day. Vi had used her technopathic abilities to keep the boards flying. She’d stopped crying hours ago, but she hadn’t moved. Hadn’t spoken.

  Hadn’t explained.

  I drank half a bottle of water from my backpack and made Vi drink the rest. My eyelids felt impossibly heavy, my body still vibrating from riding the hoverboard all night. But I wouldn’t sleep.

  I couldn’t. Every time I blinked, I saw that body. And every time I saw that body, I wondered what Vi had made them see to cause them to shred their own skin.

  Vi and I lay beside one another, each covered in separate blankets. I stared into the empty sky, wondering which star would have to explode to annihilate the earth. Maybe dying would be better than trying to fight this war, than watching Vi use her mind control in ways she despised. If I didn’t keep my thoughts busy, they returned to the body haloed in light from my girlfriend’s burning hand.

  The problem was, every thought I had only added to the guilt I constantly carried. Blaze’s disappearance. Zenn’s defection. My parents’ deaths. Leaving Vi. Getting buried alive.

  Watching Vi torture—

  I cut off the thought, only to repeat the circuit of damaging memories.

  “Tell me something happy,” I said to break the cycle. The heaviness of dawn hung over us, and I couldn’t stand this silence for another second.

  Vi emitted a tiny sigh of frustration. “I can’t,” she said. “I don’t have many happy stories.”

  “Then tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “I can’t,” she said again.

  “Why are you so relieved?” I asked, hoping she’d punch me for reading her emotions. At least then I’d know she was back to her normal self.

  “I’m relieved that you’re still talking to me,” she said. “After . . . after I lost control.” Her breath shuddered through her throat when she inhaled. “I’m so tired, and my emotions were all out of whack because of, you know, you kissing me like that. That scout, he would’ve killed us, no questions asked. He would’ve tased us both.” She paused, but I didn’t have a chance to say anything before she continued.

  “I had to do something. So I just . . . let go. It was so easy, Jag. That’s what scares me the most.” She scooted closer and propped herself up so she could look at me properly. “It was so easy.”

  Tears traced paths down her face, leaving clean tracks through the grime.

  “That’s the hard part,” I said, wanting to touch her but not daring. “It’s not about doing what’s easy. It’s about doing what’s right.”

  She nodded. “I know. I know I shouldn’t have . . . . But he would’ve killed us.”

  “I know,” I said. “Sometimes we have to do things we don’t like.” No one knew the truth of those words more than me.

  She laid her head on my chest. I held her tight, trying to erase this new awkwardness between us with simple pressure.

  “Do you hate me?” she asked, her voice close to cracking.

  “Of course not, babe.” It was the first time I’d called her that since we’d been reunited. And as Vi radiated gratitude, I knew I’d said the exact right thing at the exact right time.

  “Where to next?” she asked.

  “I have no idea,” I answered. I closed my eyes and wished for sleep. Thankfully, my wish came true.

  * * *

  Ants scurry across my face. I scream, but no sound comes out. I’ve been silenced. I feel the tech on my throat as I swipe at the insects on my face and neck.

  My ears. My arms.

  They’re everywhere. And not just ants. Flies, with their multifaceted eyes. Spiders. I can feel their eight legs
. Dry, cool snakes slither up my torso. Along my arms and legs, sharp pinches burn with heat and venom as the spiders and ants and snakes bite me.

  I yell and yell and yell, but am greeted with only the hum of insects.

  * * *

  I jerked awake, brushing my hand across my—thankfully—insect-free face. The air around me was filled with light.

  I am not in that capsule. Those insects are not torturing me.

  “I don’t think they ever did,” Vi said from beside me. “I think that was a mind trick.” Her skin looked gray, her eye sockets sunken.

  “Did you sleep?” I asked.

  “No.”

  Guilt and relief cascaded through me. “How long have I been out?”

  “It’s okay to feel relieved. I wouldn’t want someone living inside my nightmares either.”

  I shoved the blanket in my backpack. “That’s not what I meant,” I said. “I just—I don’t want you to have—”

  “You don’t have to explain,” Vi said. From the detachment in her face to the position of her body to the violet fire blazing in her eyes, everything screamed, Be afraid! “But you don’t have to protect me either, Jag. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

  “I’ve seen that,” I said before I could think.

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve seen what I wanted you to see.”

  I stood up, anger battling the fear that swelled in me. “Are you threatening me?”

  She stood too, her movement fluid and graceful. I held my ground as she advanced. Adrenaline surged, making my blood race through my body. I hadn’t felt this alive in a long time.

  Vi marched up to me and put her hands on my chest. I tingled at her touch. She stretched up to kiss me on the mouth. I grasped her too tightly. I returned her kiss too roughly.

  She laughed as she pulled away. “There you are,” she said. The fire in her eyes had been replaced with her usual Thinker edge.

  “There I am?” I asked. “What kind of freaky game was that?”

  “You’ve been wallowing,” she said.

  “I—wallowing? I have not.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “I think I would know.”

  I shouldn’t argue with that, but I said, “You don’t have to invade my mind.”

  “Right. Like you don’t have to feel my emotions.”

  I threw my head back and laughed, which felt foreign and freeing. “You win.”

  She let me kiss her again before she set about packing up her blanket. “But I do believe the insects were all an illusion.” She said it casually, as if we were talking about the humidity.

  “Why do you think that?” I kept my gaze on the horizon, noticing a blur in the blue.

  “I couldn’t enter your mind,” she said. “All of the other times, I was you in the dream. I lived it through you.” She swung her backpack on and shouldered her hoverboard. “This time, I could only watch. I don’t think it was real.”

  I nodded, again wondering which was worse. The mental violation, or actually being covered in writhing snakes and hairy spiders.

  “I think someone’s coming,” I said, looking into the midday sun but seeing only bright light.

  “Indiarina,” Vi said, a definite bite of jealousy in all five syllables.

  The shock surely showed on my face. “How do you know?”

  Vi cast her eyes to the ground and then quickly back to mine. “I can sort of find people I’m connected to.”

  “You’re connected to Indy?”

  “No.” She practically spat the word at me. “But I am connected to Thane, and he’s with Indy. They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

  “Nice,” I said, but not thinking it was nice at all. I didn’t want to have a close encounter with her father when my emotions were still spiraling.

  “They found a safe house in Grande.” She smiled, but it clashed with the true emotion riding beneath her calm exterior.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” I asked. She opened her mouth to lie about her nerves, but I cut her off. “I can feel it, Vi. You’re anxious. Why?”

  “Indy—”

  “This has nothing to do with Indy.” I tipped my head to the side, trying to get a better read on her wavering emotions. She was getting better at concealing them. Still, I tasted uncertainty, some fear, but mostly anxiety. Anxiety over the unknown. Anxiety over her—

  “My mother is at that safe house.”

  Zenn

  26. I loitered in the Greenhouse across from Eighty, peering through the soil-stained glass at the door. It didn’t move, even when I sent a southern breeze to knock on it. The windows were black, covered by plastic on the inside.

  With my limited mind capabilities, I couldn’t find anyone. Yet Greene had said Saffediene was there. I took a deep breath and moved to exit my hideout and enter Greenhouse Eighty.

  I halted when two men who were just as tall as Greene, but twice as wide, advanced down the path toward me. I melted into the shadows of a towering tree, grateful that the disorganization of the Greenhouses could conceal me.

  They paused outside Eighty, casting furtive glances down the path before they each raised one fisted hand and together rapped four times on the metal door. The thuds echoed across the path, shaking my bones.

  Not half a heartbeat later the door swung open, and the two men disappeared inside. I coerced the wind to jam the door, but it settled shut despite the force of the elements.

  With little choice left, I squared my shoulders and marched across the path. Using both my fists, I pounded four times on the door.

  It immediately opened, revealing a tangle of vines amid the darkness. I slipped in, allowing the door to latch behind me.

  I hadn’t thought past getting into Greenhouse Eighty, and before I could take one step, four hands grasped me, two on each of my arms. My first reaction was fear, but anger wasn’t far behind.

  A rough voice spoke in my ear. “Who are you?”

  “How’d you get here, outsider?” another asked.

  “He knew the knock,” someone else said.

  “It wasn’t hard,” I said, trying to rip my arms away. “I just watched the door for ten seconds.”

  Someone punched me in the stomach. My knees gave out. I gasped. The two men holding my arms didn’t loosen their grip. I hung there, trying to breathe, anger flowing through me like techtricity.

  “Release me,” I managed, my voice weak. Still, the grip on my right arm slipped.

  I regained my feet. I straightened. “Let me go.” This time my voice came out properly. They let me go.

  “Where’s Saffediene?” I asked. I wished this place had some lights.

  A moment of silence was punctuated only by the shuffling of feet. I blinked, and a flicker of a match brightened the room. I thought I’d imagined it, but on the next strike, the fire caught. It illuminated someone’s hand and cast orange patterns on their soil-crusted T-shirt.

  They held the flame to a candle and passed it around the room until two dozen candles were lit and the space came to life. I glanced from face to face. There were twenty-four men and women in the room, all of them glaring at me. Saffediene wasn’t among them.

  “Fire?” I asked. “Really?”

  “Fire requires neither tech nor ability,” someone said. The words reminded me of Greene. So did the way they all stood perfectly still, not so much as a blink or twitch.

  They obviously knew Insider Tip #8: Don’t fidget. It’s a sign of nerves, which can indicate a lie.

  “Where’s Saffediene?” I asked, trying a different tactic. “She and I are from Freedom, and we were told Eighty was on the inside track.”

  The woman across from me blinked, which I took as a sign that something I’d said held power. “We just received a return shipment from Freedom,” she said. “Last week, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes,” the man next to her said. “Two trees that didn’t take to the weather.”

  “We need to examine those trees,” I said. “Where
are they?”

  “What’s your name?” the woman asked.

  “Zenn Bower. Yours?”

  “Min Holyoak.” She flicked her eyes to the man next to her. “And Shade Rodriguez.” They took their candles and turned to leave.

  I followed them into a long corridor that had so many potted plants and trees and shrubs that I hardly had room to walk. The candle cast flickering light onto leaves and branches, which transformed into clawing fingers and shadowy hands.

  “Your friend has already examined the trees,” Shade said. “She found nothing.”

  “Impossible,” I said. “The Insiders in Freedom wouldn’t have returned the trees without sending a message with them.” I’d seen Trek at work with his gadgets. He could code a portlet to malfunction at exactly the right moment. He could falsify any type of communication. He could change what his voice sounded like, could replicate intonation and personality.

  He had a piece of tech for everything, and what he didn’t have, he invented. He’d have done something with the trees. He must have.

  We turned a corner, and the corridor opened up into a larger room. Long, silver counters ran in rows with spilled dirt and rusted gardening tools. The black plastic only covered the windows; natural light streamed down from skylights. But the plants here all looked to be in various stages of dying.

  Saffediene sat on a counter in the middle of the room, her legs swinging, staring up through the glass ceiling.

  “Saffediene.” I pushed past Min and hurried toward her. She looked at me, moving in what seemed like slow motion. Dried tears crusted her face. I gathered her into my arms, automatically stroking her unbraided hair and soothing her with my voice.

  She gripped my shirt, her body tense tense tense. She didn’t cry. The embrace only lasted a few seconds before she pulled back.

  “What happened?” I asked. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, taking both my hands in hers. “I’m sorry I left you. I—” She stopped. “I felt something weird.”

  “Felt something weird?” This statement from Saffediene didn’t fit with her goes-for-specific personality.

  She shook her head. “I know it doesn’t make sense. I woke up to voices, and the city was glowing with light.”