Survived (Revived, #2)

by Jodie Kobe



  SURVIVED

  by Jodie Kobe

  (c) 2015 by Jodie Kobe

  CHAPTER 1

  V I V I A N

  I’m staring at white.

  It's the white that’s keeping me here. The white that feels like it’s closing in on me. Why am I inside this...capsule? This container?

  There has to be a way out of this. If they put me in here, I can get out.

  I just hope this door doesn’t lock from the outside.

  The layer of dirt and frost on the container’s small window in front of me is thin, so it’s not too hard to wipe it. I can’t reach the other side of the glass to get the remaining dirt, so my view of where I am is still blocked.

  My hands turn cold from running them over the frost, and the only thing I can do to keep them warm is to rub them against my clothes, which disappointingly, are not my regular white jeans and tank top.

  It appears that someone has dressed me in thin, white material shaped into a t-shirt and a short skirt. The two fabrics are not enough to cover my body fully.

  The environment is cold, but not cold enough for my breath to be visible. I peek through the dirt and frost on the window, hoping I can get a glimpse of anything past the filth. There's something gray.

  Am I still in the underground building? Is this the color of their basement?

  I hope so.

  I place the palm of my hand against the wall in front of me, pushing on it and hoping it will give out. It doesn’t budge, and I’m not surprised.

  I notice something then. A dry, dark red shape just above my right elbow.

  I crane my neck to examine it and see it's a wound. A wound turning into a scar. I have no idea where it came from. To me, it appears like someone attempted to dig something out of my skin, and succeeded.

  I shudder and turn back to the door. My lungs aren't working properly, and every breath that I try to take is painful. How long will I last? Oxygen has to run out sometime, especially in a tight place like this one, where all four walls of the container are touching me.

  I push at the wall to my left. It doesn’t budge. I try the wall to my right, and am surprised when it bends at the force. Maybe this is the door? The wall is weak on this side, which means I might be able to break it open. I lean into it as much as I can, yelling, “Hey!”

  No one answers, and I continue pushing at the wall. There’s a faint crack.

  I freeze, realizing what's happening. The wall is breaking.

  With new determination, I use as much force as I can to try to break the thin wall down. A few more bashes and there’s a loud snap.

  I tumble out of the container, hands outstretched in front of me to break my fall, my eyes shut.

  I land on a hard but sandy surface and gasp, my eyes flying open.

  My gut twists.

  Piles of black bags and large, white containers are scattered around me across the dirt. Strange thing is, all of these objects are big enough to hold a human being. Many are piled on top of one another, laying still. I try not to think about the contents inside the bags, but it just won’t leave my head.

  The container I had just fallen out of lays on top of several black bags and I shudder, scrambling to my feet. And for a few seconds, I take my eyes away from the bags to see what else surrounds me.

  I can see the sky.

  The environment around me is clearer than I remember it. I’ve been outside already, but I had been wearing a heavy suit. Thick, black dust had coated the air that time. This time, everything is almost clear. I can see what lies past me. I can see land. But it’s gray. But it's here.

  There is nothing keeping me from touching the air. There is no barrier, no mask, no suit.

  And I'm not dead.

  Why is the air like this, clean and cold? How long have I been here, buried around these bags and containers to miss what has happened?

  I look around me and spot something very familiar not too far away from where I stand.

  A glass hallway practically in the middle of a large, gray field. I’ve been in there before, locked out once.

  The glass hallway is connected to a small building just large enough to fit about three or four people. And attached to that small portion of the building is an even larger building. But it’s underground; not visible at all right this second.

  I’ve lived inside there for what, a week, and what’s happened to me now? Did they throw me out? Why aren’t they out here with me? Isn’t the air breathable again? I am able to breathe it? Can the people underground?

  I bend down in front of one of the human-sized black bags and tear it open slowly, curious to know what’s inside.

  Not a great sight to see for someone like me.

  There is a human body inside. Not someone I know. It’s a dead woman, her face pale and dry, her lips blue. The skin around her closed eyes is a dull, black color.

  The shriek I try to hold back comes out as a whimper. I push myself away from the corpse, only to bump into another bag behind me. I yelp and jump to my feet, trying hard to look elsewhere. My eyes concentrate on my bare toes instead. I take steady breaths, my hands over my head.

  What is this? I’m surrounded by possibly dead human bodies right outside the underground complex.

  Shakily, I hop over a bag and walk over to the container I had fallen out of. It’s white and completely smooth, just like that machine I had to help Fox and Rian with. Fox and Rian. Where are they now? Are they buried underneath all of this too?

  Small, black text catches my eye on the outside surface of the container. I bring my face closer to it and squint.

  The word I see confuses me and makes my head spin: DISPOSE.

  Dispose of whom? Me?

  I check another container similar to the one I had been in. It’s not too far away but I still have to step over bags to get there. The same word is in the same place on this container too. Surely the word doesn't mean that I need to be disposed of, right? They must mean the containers. The containers must be made of some sort of material that can’t be recycled.

  I let out a breath and look up at the sky. No matter how hard I think about the opposite of what could actually be possible, it keeps coming back, making my stomach twist. There is no avoiding the truth.

  They threw me away. They threw all of these people away.

  I break into a sprint, toward the glass hallway I see. If I can make enough noise to attract attention toward myself, I might be let back in.

  My breaths are raspy and struggled when I finally reach the glass. It’s self-healing, I learned back at the building. Jack Welds, the so-called leader of the facility, told me so. He had said this glass is weaker than his new and improved one. I had tried to break through this one when I had been locked out, but I hadn’t gotten anywhere. It was Janelle who had showed up to let me back inside the building. Rob had locked me out. He’s a crazy man, wanting to avenge his father’s death. And apparently, I am his father’s murderer. But where is he now? Where is everyone else now?

  I peek through the glass walls, spotting the door the glass surrounds. That door leads back underground and into the large building. I just have to find a way to get to it.

  I retreat a step and pull my leg back, about to swing at the glass with as much force as I can. I take a deep breath…and kick at the glass.

  Nothing happens, and I’m not surprised. The only thing I get is a shot of pain through my foot. I pound on the glass with my fist, calling, “Hey! I’m here! Let me in!”

  There has to be at least one camera here, watching what’s going on outside. They have to see me.

  I don’t want to be stuck here forever.

  Tears have started in my eyes, but I wipe them away with a finger.

 
A soft breeze blows my tangled, frizzy hair in my face. I swat at it, trying to get the strands out of my mouth.

  I slide down to the ground, my back against the glass walls of the odd dome structure. My legs pull up to my chest, and I shiver. The temperature's dropping. Is it possible for me to freeze to death like I did last time—?

  Last time?

  Oh, no. Maybe that’s why they threw me away. They think I'm dead.

  No, no, no. I’m not dead, I’m not dead. I’m right here. I’m alive!

  After shaking my hands around to get my adrenaline going, I jump to my feet, voicing my thoughts aloud. “I’m not dead!” I rap against the glass several more times. Someone has to hear me.

  I continue to pound and kick it. Even though I get no results, I still try. I need to get some kind of signal to them, and this is the only idea I have.

  A frustrated groan escapes from the back of my throat. I spin around, my back to the glass again. There is another entrance somewhere. I had used it with Rian and Fox for that “saving the earth's air” mission I had to completely. I know I failed, but have they? How long ago has that been?

  I search the large, empty field for any sign of another portion of a building.

  There’s nothing to see for miles. The whole field is flat and endless. What exactly could be out there? More humans? Homes? Another underground facility?

  A few seconds pass as I think over my options. I take a hesitant step forward, toward whatever empty land lies ahead of me.

  Will it hurt to find out what’s out there?

  CHAPTER 2

  V I V I A N

  My feet strike the rocks and dry weeds.

  I run, fumbling to keep my thin skirt down. It flies after me, and it doesn’t help that it’s so short. At least I’m not naked.

  Somewhere along my run, my feet start to throb from the sharp rocks. I decrease my speed to a walk, grimacing as rocks and sand still dig into my toes. I’ve been running for a while, but nothing has come up on the horizon yet. There is no sun visible, so I can’t be sure what time of day it is. The sky looks like it's getting darker, so maybe it's late in the afternoon?

  I look around at the empty space around me. It feels like mankind has vanished. Earth looks dead. Has the machine we planted done its job? Has it actually cleared the air? It couldn’t possibly have been one or two years already.

  I stop to stretch, then sit down. My rest will only be a few minutes, I tell myself.

  After several of unknown seconds, I declare myself ready to go again. When I'm on my feet, I run a quick hand through my t-shirt and skirt. I take one more look around, then let my feet take me forward.

  ~~~

  The temperature drops.

  I wrap my arms around myself, teeth chattering. I know a run will do me good, but I am too numb to speed up.

  Keep moving, I tell myself. There aren’t any warm places to hide myself in so another rest is going to have to wait.

  Far in the distance, something dark and flat appears. I keep moving as I rub my hands together, squinting at the flat thing.

  Is that...is that a road?

  If my chin and mouth weren’t frozen, I would smile. Even though this cold stings a lot, this is nothing compared to the one I felt when Fox, Rian, and I had stepped outside for that mission. That cold was much worse. I had collapsed and fell unconscious. I can live through this cold, hopefully.

  Cracks line the backs of my hands. My skin has turned purple. I curl my fingers into fists and gradually start jogging, hoping the road I see leads somewhere. I’m not expecting it to guide me to people, but maybe there is an abandoned city somewhere out there. Maybe I can find a place to camp.

  I pull in a few sharp breaths and run, doing my best to dodge as many rocks and sharp objects in my way. But I don't do a very good job of it.

  My feet start feeling numb, and the spinning of my head follows. A faint, white color appears in my vision, but I don’t know what it means exactly.

  I’m thinking too much about what my next meal is going to be. I'm thinking too much about how I'm going to die from the cold. The thin material is not very protective.

  My feet hit the surface of the black road. I continue to follow its path at a run until finally, I give up and start walking again. That’s when I notice something.

  Grass and plants have started appearing in large clumps all around me. And they’re green. They actually have a color!

  I crouch down and brush my fingers over the leaves of a small plant. These plants are growing out here, but not in the field with the underground complex. This environment is obviously more habitable. What if there are humans here?

  My heart leaps with hope. I jump to my feet, snapping my head around to look at my surroundings. I could be right. The road must lead to something. A town? A city?

  The large field around me is no longer as flat as before. It curves several times into hills. If I can get over those hills, I might be able to see what’s on the other side of them. Human life, perhaps?

  I touch a few flowers and continue moving toward the green hills. The amount of grass increases, and I find myself walking on softer, greener earth. It has been a long time ago since I last walked on something like this. How long, I don't know specifically.

  I stumble up the rest of the large hill on all fours, standing up and brushing dirt off my hands and knees when I reach my destination. The sight around me makes my breath catch in my throat.

  A field of green plants stand there, half my height. Across the tall grass, a gray brick tower hangs out. Right behind the tower is a small town. Light smoke rises from the rooftops of buildings, disappearing into the air. I can't believe. People live here? Who is welcome, though?

  A metal fence winds around the whole town. I spot the entrance to the gate. Even though I’m far from all of this, I can see about half a dozen figures standing watch right outside the town, gathered by the gate doors.

  There is no way they're letting me in.

  But how is this town here? How are all these people here?

  My nose is running from the cold. I sniffle, wiping it using the inside of my shirt. I brush my clothes off one last time and move forward, hoping I don’t look too dead. The better I look, the greater chance I have of the figures letting me in. I don’t think they want a sick human being living in their town.

  My graceful entrance doesn’t go as planned. As I near the gate, the guards catch sight of me. I startle them and they startle me. But I'm the only person who looses her footing and collapses to the ground, teeth chattering.

  My eyes close. Every part of me is too numb to respond, to attack. Or even to move.

  I hear one of the guards’ voices. “Hey!”

  A crunch of footsteps follows, and the voices get louder.

  “Is she dead?”

  Another voice, a low, male one answers with, “I don’t think so.”

  “Ma’am?” This voice startles me because it’s so close to my ear. It’s a female voice. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

  “Don’t come too close. She doesn’t look so good,” another guard says.

  A long cylinder-like object pokes me in the back. I tense but keep my eyes closed, knowing what it is. A gun.

  I don’t want to make any sudden movements. If I startle them, they might shoot. I start with a whisper, struggling with forming words because of my numb mouth. “P-p-please h-help m-me.” I open my eyes and find myself staring up into six soldier’s faces. They are wearing black vests over dark blue uniforms.

  A long, silver gun is pointed at my head.

  They take a step back simultaneously while one of them says, “She just said something.”

  I slowly raise my hand to my mouth, trying to massage it so it doesn't feel as frozen. The guards stay where they are, and I try again. “Please...help me.”

  One of them raises another gun at me, and I hold my breath. Two weapons are pointed at my body, but I don’t know if the triggers are ever going to be pull
ed.

  “Help you?” one of the male guards who’s pointing a rifle at me says. “Help you with what?”

  I rub my hands over my arms as a cold blast of wind hits my skin. “I’m c-cold. Please.”

  “She looks purple,” a female guard says, glancing at the five guards around her. She looks to be the youngest out of all of the six. She glances at me. “Where’d you come from?” Then her gaze shifts to the field behind me. “Have you lived here before?”

  Teeth still chattering, I shake my head.

  The end of a rifle jams into my right hand, where a black tattoo winds around my fingers. It's the tattoo that's supposed to mark me as one of the projects. The projects who have synthetic hearts.

  I breathe in and pull my hand to my chest, glaring at the man who has just poked me.

  “What’s that?” he spits.

  “Looks to be some sort of tattoo,” another says, crouching low to examine my tattooed hand cradled against my chest. He snatches my arm and yanks me painfully to my feet. “Up. Now.” He spins me around to face the gate and jams his rifle into my back. I nearly fall over again. “Move it.”

  Two of the guards push half of the gate doors open, and I’m shoved toward them. One of the female guard’s voices whispers, “What if she’s a spy?”

  A low laugh follows. “In the condition she’s in, I don’t think so. Besides, if she tries anything, I’ll shoot her.”

  Two guards accompany me through the gates while the rest stay behind. The youngest one, and the guy who rammed a rifle into my hand. He pushes me forward, and I nearly gasp as I see what’s in front of me.

  I’m through the fence and in the town.

  Short, beaten up buildings surround me, roads winding past and around them. The town is alive. Vehicles on wheels pass me, and the smell of exhaust reaches my nostrils. I cough and wave a hand in front of my face, aware that I am not used to this sort of stuff.

  The temperature has risen here, but I’m still shivering. Pedestrians turn their heads my way as they see me, a stranger, being accompanied by two guards.

  People actually live here. That’s incredible. How long have they been living—?

  I’m ripped out of my amazed state with a poke to my spine by the end of a rifle. I grimace but keep walking. If only I could snatch that gun out of the guard’s hand. But then I’d get shot down by someone else, and it won't be a good ending for me.