by E. R. Arroyo
“I do.”
“Can you tell us if you think this attack would be personal for you?”
I lace my fingers together. “Is it personal?”
“Is this effort based on any type of revenge or hatred? Are you asking us to act based on a grudge?”
I think of all the reasons Nathan deserves to fall. All the reasons he deserves to die. I think of all the people he’s hurt, all the people he’s killed. People who died because of me, but I push the guilt away and keep my focus on Nathan. Twig. Titus. Alyssa. And countless others. I think of the men they slaughtered in front of me. “Absolutely. It’s absolutely personal.”
They huff, but I continue. “Nathan Burke is a tyrant. A monster who thinks he can control a population--that people are as disposable as trade goods. He’s the man who orders the slaughter of anyone who won’t comply with his wishes. He’s the man who killed a boy who refused to hit me. He’s the man who threatened me, but couldn’t hurt me because his father protected me. He’s the man who I strongly believe killed his own father, so that protection would be gone. He’s the man who caused the deaths of my friends Titus and Alyssa. And he’s the man who left my father for dead and took me away from him.
“He convinced me there was nothing left outside those borders, outside those fences. But I knew. I knew you were out here. I knew humanity couldn’t exist without people who believed in justice. I had to sneak around to read books about people who fought for it, and I knew they had to still exist.” I take a deep breath to steady myself. Everyone’s faces blur together.
“I believe children should play, and women should not be violated because it’s their civil duty to bear children. I believe people should read poetry and admire artwork. I believe that people should be allowed to touch each other without punishment. That a fallen child should be embraced. That people should love, they should feel. They shouldn’t be chemically altered to behave like robots. I believe that human touch shouldn’t repulse me, and that I shouldn’t struggle to trust people, but both are true because of Nathan. I believe that I shouldn’t have spent countless childhood hours in laboratories, under needles and lights. I do not believe that a monster like Nathan Burke deserves to lead anyone. And I would very much like to see him punished for his crimes. So yes, this attack is very personal.”
I turn for the door, afraid of their response. I’ve never spoken so much in my life. Maybe all seventeen years combined. When I reach the doorway, Dylan stands there with my dad and the others. I walk straight past them, trembling and wondering how long they’ve been there.
I go back to the common room, shaking my hands and cracking my neck. My palms are so sweaty, wiping them off doesn’t seem to work. Only Dylan follows me.
I face him with both my hands dangling at my sides. A charming smile makes a glorious return to his perfect face, making me forget where I am for a moment. He wraps his arms around my waist. When he lifts me up, I wrap mine around his neck. “You were amazing. Absolutely amazing. I’m so proud of you.” I close my eyes and try to forget it, but it’s on replay in my head.
He sets me down and cups my face. “Human touch repulses you, huh?”
“Not yours.” It’s true, his doesn’t.
“Everyone else?” His thumbs graze my cheeks.
“I’m working on it, but it’s still a little touch and go.”
He starts to kiss me, but footsteps echo down the hall toward us. He settles for a peck on my forehead and pulls himself away, sitting down on a sofa right before my father rounds the corner.
“What did they say?” Clenching my fists, I hold my breath, preparing for letdown. I’m just a stupid girl with a chip on her shoulder--that’s what they’ve seen in me. I’m sure I blew it.
“The decision is subject to change, but they’ve decided to bring in their commanders to meet with us. If we can formulate a strategy each commander is comfortable with, we will launch a mission.”
I exhale and drop to my knees, burying my head between the sofa cushions and my hands. “Thank you.” Tears prick my eyes and for the first time since we left Antius, I genuinely want to return.
I think of my prison mate Pete, and of my caretaker Ginny, who distracted the guards to help me escape. Vance, who taught me to protect myself. Dottie, who fed me and Pete. I remember all the innocent faces that sat across from me in the Underage cafeteria over the years. These are my family. I never thought I’d see them again. It was stupid of me to think I could just walk away and live on my own. I no longer want to.
When I look up, my dad is gone and Dylan rubs my back between my shoulder blades.
“I can’t believe they listened. I thought for sure...”
He flashes a warm smile. “This is what I love about you.” Butterflies dance in my belly and the word love bounces around in my skull. “You don’t see it, but there’s just something about you that people are drawn to. People believe in you.”
“What? I’m nothing--”
“I saw the way those kids in Antius looked up to you. The way the caretakers smirked after they had to scold you. Even the guards liked you. And I saw the way The City people embraced you.”
“That’s ridiculous. They were looking at me like they wanted to kill me.”
“No, I’m certain those dirty looks were meant for me.”
I laugh. “You might be right on that one.”
“I’m right on all of them. Even here. Our story is completely ridiculous, but they believe you. You give people hope, even when they don’t want it.”
I lay my head against his knee while he runs his fingers through my hair. “I like your hair down.” I smile even though he can’t see my face. Dylan slides onto the floor and embraces me. I press my face into his chest as he rocks gently from side to side.
His chest rises with a breath, then a sound comes from his throat, though his lips are closed. His inflection changes rhythmically, up and down. Some sounds held out, some cut short. I think he’s done this before when I was sleeping.
“What is that?” I ask.
“It’s music.” He smiles and then makes more music with his voice. I wonder if he learned this from his mother.
Beautiful.
The next day, Refuge army groups start arriving. The place is bustling. The dining room is always full of chatter and laughter, as if they weren’t summoned here for matters of war. I’ve never heard so many grown men laughing, and it’s refreshing. There’s joy here.
Most of the commanders appear around my father’s age, and the soldiers accompanying them range from my age and up. Their personalities are each different, their hair, clothes, demeanor. I’m happy to know the citizens of the other colonies are just as free as Mercy’s.
Late that evening, the final group arrives from a colony called Lakeview. The next morning, the commanders convene. For my sake and Dylan’s, they introduce themselves; everyone else already knows each other.
Mercy’s commander is Max. Max wasn’t present when the leaders convened yesterday. In addition to his dark skin, a long scar from his hairline to his eyebrow sets him apart from the others, who are mostly indistinguishable, even though each is unique. A sea of skin, eye, and hair colors. Different clothes.
John leads the army of Lakeview. He appears to be the oldest man in the room, with gray hair and deep wrinkles around his eyes and mouth.
Delilah’s military is led by a man called Robert. He’s tall and kind of reminds me of my father. Joel represents Shiloh, and Greg is from Smyrna. Emilio hails from Dannah. The only female amongst the military commanders is Michelle from the colony Wisdom. She’s younger than the others, and she looks strong. She looks wise.
Seven colonies are represented. Seven whole colonies.
My father opens the dialogue by explaining the situation and explaining the wishes of the leaders of Refuge. Dylan has drawn up a map of Antius, and it hangs on the wall in front of the commanders.
I point to a spot on the map. “This is the Underage building, our targ
et. It houses roughly one hundred fifty minors of varying ages.” I point to another building. “This one houses women, many of which are pregnant. The infants and toddlers are also kept there.”
“Population?” Michelle asks.
I glance at Dylan, unsure of the number. He shrugs. “About sixty women.”
Max sits forward in his chair. “The Underage building should be the closest point of breach. If we can press farther in, we’ll attempt the women’s building, as well. Which direction does the Underage building face?”
“I’m not sure. How do I tell?” A few people laugh, but stop when my father shoots them a look.
“The sun rises from the east and sets in the west. So if we’re looking at this map, east would be to our right, west to our left. Up is north. Down is south.” He points as he explains to help me visualize.
I close my eyes and imagine the light in the morning. I picture myself standing right outside the front door of the building on a brisk morning. The sun is to my right when I’m facing the center tower. I open my eyes and point to the map to help myself make sense of it. “It’s on the north side of the compound.”
My dad flips the map upside down from how we hung it, and circles the minor building in red.
“You’re sure?” Max asks me.
I think it over again. “I’m sure.”
“Then we attack from the north. Tell us about security.”
Dylan explains the force perimeter, the access codes, and the electric fence. I explain the guard towers, and the weapons, scopes, and cameras.
After an hour of discussion, the questions fly and Dylan answers. I sit in the corner with my knees pulled to my chest, exhausted.
“The perimeter, can we bomb it?”
“No, it will deflect the impact and tip off the entire Guard.”
“Can you hack into the security poles?”
“Only from the inside.”
“Can we create a diversion?”
“We won’t be able to distract all ten towers.”
“Can we dig under the forcefield?”
I clear my throat. “I can jump it.” Voices continue around me, so I get up and walk to the front of the room. “I said I can jump it.” I say it louder this time.
“She’s right.” Dylan rubs his temples. “I have an idea.”
Chapter Nineteen
“I don’t like it.” Dylan sits on the counter. This tiny bathroom is the only place we can find privacy around here.
It’s been three days since we agreed on a course of action, and Mission Antius Rescue was approved. Dylan has been designing and constructing nonstop since then, and the crude materials in Mercy have left cuts and scrapes on his hands.
He reaches across his chest, rubbing his bicep as though it was sore, or he simply needs something to do with his hands. He holds the other hand in the air, gesturing as he speaks, pointing at nothing in particular. “Sending you in there alone. I don’t like it.”
“I won’t be alone for long. Just the first part.”
“That’s the hardest part.” He scratches his head.
“Don’t you believe in me, Dylan?” I tease, laying my hands on his knees.
“That’s not fair. Of course I do. It’s just--”
“Then trust me.” I rub both of his arms up and down the way he does to me sometimes, to assure him.
“Just don’t get caught, okay?”
“You mean, ‘don’t get killed’?”
“No.” He clears his throat. “Don’t get caught.” Right. Dylan thinks they won’t kill me. If he’s right, maybe it’s a good thing I’m the one going in first.
“I’ll be careful.”
“Let’s get some rest.”
I opt against sleeping in Karen’s room tonight. The energy in this place is electric, and I can’t help but dwell on the danger ahead. So I don’t want to be separated from Dylan tonight.
Soldiers are sprawled out all over the common room, but we find a vacant sofa, which I spread out on. Dylan lies on the floor beside me. I roll onto my stomach and hang my arm over the edge. When Dylan gets comfortable, he takes my hand and lays it flat on his chest. For at least an hour, I visualize the jump while Dylan caresses my hand. I run through the instructions he gave me. We went over it a dozen times today, and I won’t forget. He’s right, I just can’t get caught.
I focus on the steady rise and fall of Dylan’s chest, and eventually sleep takes me.
“Are you worried?” My father’s voice from across the room. “No, sir. It’s just...” Dylan’s voice. I force my eyes open and look down where my hand is now propped up by a pillow instead of Dylan’s chest. I stay put. “Even if this mission fails, we can’t let her get captured.”
“Son, I agree, and I appreciate that you care about her.”
Dylan clears his throat. “I’m sorry, I just...”
I hear a sipping sound, and I assume it’s my father. “Dylan, I have this...gift. It’s called intuition. It helps me read people. Do you know what I mean by that?”
“Not really.” Dylan laughs uncomfortably.
“It means I can sense when someone has information they’re afraid to say. I can also tell when they’re lying.” There’s a silence and I almost look up to see, but Dad goes on. “I don’t take you for a liar, Dylan, but if you need to get something off your chest, now’s the time. If there’s something I should know before we launch this mission, I need you to tell me.”
Another pause. Dylan’s voice comes out more confidently than I expect. “Your daughter is special. She’s unique, and not just figuratively. Literally, her DNA is unique.” This part I know. “Her brain produces a chemical that Antius has been harvesting. To their knowledge, she’s the only person who produces it--it doesn’t even have a name. They use it in their population med, and it helps suppress anxiety and other negative emotions. It has been the most effective compound they’ve created.
“I don’t know if she told you anything about her time in Antius, but she had a tendency to risk her life and get herself in a lot of trouble. That hormone is produced more abundantly when she engages in violence or other activities, like climbing tall structures and jumping off them. So you can imagine, when they put her in training for the military, her levels spiked as she was exposed to physical activity daily and violence almost as much.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying they needed her to behave exactly as she did, even though it defied their laws. It means they couldn’t make her a lab rat, like they had wanted when they brought her in. Actually, they tried, but her levels were depleted when she was confined. Especially when she was unconscious. So they had no choice but to aid in her recklessness. Even though Nathan tried so hard to harness her rage, he had no choice but let her be who she was. Who she is.”
All these years I thought I was getting away with something. Was I just a rat in a maze? A wave of nausea slams into my stomach, and I swallow acid back down. I want to hear the rest. He didn’t tell me this much. And I need to know the truth.
“But a scientist named Gerard created another drug that he believed could trick her mind into continuing production without allowing her any physical activity at all.”
My father takes a gruff breath. “So, if they catch her...”
“They can make her a vegetable and continue using her DNA to manipulate the population of Antius.” My heart races, and I think I might actually vomit. “We can’t let that happen. She can’t be Cori if she can’t be free.”
“How do you know so much about this?” That’s what I’d like to know, too.
“I can’t...”
“I’m not the kind of man you want to lie to.”
“She’ll never forgive me if she knows.” His voice is weak, like he might be crying. My heart is beating so fast and so loud, I can barely hear him.
“Just tell me the truth. It’s going to eat you up until you do. It’s already eating you up, all this time. Whatever it is.”
“Mr. Cole, before we left Antius I had been drawing the chemical off her brain for two years. I interned in chemistry since I was fifteen, and I volunteered to perform the harvest. The other guy was too rough with her, so I asked to do it. They were impressed by my initiative, that’s the only reason they let me do it. But I swear, I did it to protect her. I would never hurt her. As soon as I found out what Gerard was working on, I transferred to technology to find a way to help her escape.”
Before I even realize I’ve gotten up, I’m running toward Dylan, rage fueling every step. My father drops a cup of dark brown, steaming liquid on the table, and it topples to the floor, shattering on impact. I slam into Dylan, knocking him to the floor. When I get my legs across his chest, I wrap my fingers around his neck and squeeze. “How could you? I trusted you with everything.”
He doesn’t fight me, he just holds his hands in the air, granting me access to anything I choose to injure, but I’m not really squeezing his throat hard enough. As tears spill over my cheeks, I slam the bottom of my fist against his chest. “How could you do that without me knowing? How come I never knew, Dylan?”
Still straddling his chest, I reach to my head trying to find a hole, an incision, anything. My finger lands on a rough patch, like a giant callous, just inside my hairline behind my ear. It’s maybe two inches from where my chip was. “Is this where you put the needles, Dylan?”
“I’m sorry, Cori. I’m so sorry.”
“No, you tell me. Tell me how.” He doesn’t speak and I slap his cheek, hard.
Arms wrap around me and yank me from him, and I flail against the person behind me. And it’s not my father, because I see my father helping Dylan to his feet.
“Tell me!”
“Cori, we smoked your room in the middle of the night, and did the extractions while you were unconscious. I didn’t want you to wake up during a procedure like that. It would be excruciating.”
Smoked my room to knock me out? Was anything I ever did my own choice or was I just their puppet all along?
