There’s a man leaning over the body of a woman, who is most certainly dead. Or at least I hope so, because the man is ripping her apart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Relocation of affected parties from Sector Three to Sector Two to commence immediately. For record-keeping purposes keep audio/visual recording on at all times while in Sector Three.
—ORDERS FROM MOTHER TO GUARDS
Bile threatens to come up my throat when Gavin pushes me behind him. I don’t know if it’s to protect me from the man or the sight. Either way, I’m grateful. I press my forehead against his back. There is no click or its accompanying calmness. My stomach rolls and I really want to retch, but I’m too scared to make a noise.
Gavin gestures for me to walk backward, but I’m frozen in place. I can’t move. I recognize the man. He is one of the Guards from the Palace Wing. He used to help me carry flowers to the Science Sector before he was relocated to Sector Three.
Gavin reaches blindly behind him and grabs my arm, then he pinches me. Hard. I bite back a squeal, but the pinch has done its job. It clears my head and I slowly turn around to walk back the way we’ve come. Maybe the Guard won’t notice if we just go back the way we came and find another way around.
But when I turn around, there’s another man right behind me. I don’t recognize him, though it doesn’t help my fear any. And I almost squeal with fright again when I realize how close he is.
Gavin, unaware of what’s in front of me, bumps me and pushes me forward, almost knocking me into the blood-covered man.
“Evie. Back. Up,” Gavin hisses.
“I can’t!” I whisper back.
“Why no—” He turns his head while he’s talking and catches sight of the man. He swears.
Since that pretty much sums it up, I don’t say anything.
The man in front of me continues to smile, but he’s singing now. Softly under his breath. And what he’s singing chills me to the bone.
“Way down yonder, down in the meadow,
There’s a poor wee little lamby.
The bees and the butterflies pickin’ at its eyes,
The poor wee thing cried for her mammy.”
“What is he saying?” Gavin whispers.
“He’s singing,” I say, even though I know he’s more in shock at the words than not actually being able to hear what the man is saying.
“Singing? Singing what?”
“A children’s song. Does it really matter?”
“That’s a freakin’ creepy children’s song! Why in the world would you teach that to children?”
“We really don’t have time for explanations, but it’s a song to symbolize what the Surface Dwellers do to their own children. The lamb is a child who, even though he’s crying for his mom, has just been tossed aside to die. Happy?”
“Uh, no. I guess not. So? Got a plan?”
“There’s a poor wee little lamby.”
The singing is really distracting and I can’t think. I don’t know what to do. Gavin asks again, but I can’t really hear him over the buzzing sound in my ears.
“The bees and the butterflies pickin’ at its eyes.”
“Evie, what do we do?”
I start shaking and my head threatens to explode as the singing seems to grow louder and louder and Gavin’s voice rings in my ears. This time I can feel the change, the slight wavering in my vision and the burning in my nerves that signals my Enforcer programming is trying to take over. I can’t let it. Not this time. It’s stronger now and I know, if I give in, I could kill Gavin.
But if I don’t … he could die anyway.
I don’t know what to do. Either way could result in death. But I’ve been fighting my Conditioning almost my whole life. Maybe I can control myself enough.
I can do this. I can. I have to. There’s no choice. It’s the only way we can escape the monsters that have us trapped.
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and let the programming take over. The click in my head goes off and I know just what to do. I’m calm again. And I have to admit the calmness is welcome compared to the mind-numbing terror from just seconds ago. I’d much rather have this control over myself than the constant fear I’ve been living with.
“Evie?” Gavin has apparently noticed my change.
“Just don’t get in the way,” I say.
The man in front of me is bigger than me and possibly stronger. But, while he’s staring straight down at me, his eyes are blank. As if there’s nothing there anymore. But he’s still singing.
The man has obviously killed before, so I don’t know why he hasn’t attacked us, but I slowly reach into my pack for my gun and raise it to aim at the man’s chest. He doesn’t budge. Doesn’t even blink.
Gavin places his hand over the gun and pushes down, before whispering in my ear, “He’s not really there, Evie. He’s harmless. Just let him go.”
I don’t really trust that he’s harmless, but Gavin’s probably right. The man didn’t make any move to stop me from killing him.
So I nod and lower the pistol.
The sounds of grunting and tearing flesh let me know the man behind us is still busily attacking his victim and most likely hasn’t noticed us.
Even with the Enforcer programming running through my system, I shiver at the sounds surrounding me: Gavin’s gasping breaths. The thunder of my heartbeat. The ripping of flesh. And, making it all worse, the man’s rasping voice as he sings.
We turn slowly so our backs are pressed against the wall and then shuffle sideways down the hall, hoping the man tearing the woman to pieces won’t see us. But just when we get behind the man, he stops.
We immediately do the same.
He slowly turns, so he’s facing us, then tilts his head to the side, watching us.
A shiver runs down my spine, and Gavin’s breath catches. I tighten my grip on the pistol, preparing to raise and fire if need be.
“It is my privilege to follow Mother’s orders. We don’t question Mother.” Then he leaps toward us and I have no time to think before I’m raising the gun and squeezing the trigger. A ball of blue light emits from the gun and the man in front of me bursts into flames.
Before I can even think, I’m already turning and dragging Gavin along behind me. We rush down the hallway until we get to another junction that’s lit on both sides. The state of the hall is evidence that those two Guards are just the first of many.
I skid to a stop and spin around to face Gavin.
“Grab the plasma pistol. It has less of a kick and will be easier to handle.”
“You think there’s more of those … things?” he asks, and although I’m sure he’s scared—I would be if not for my training—his eyes don’t waver from mine.
“I don’t think. I know.” I gesture to the bloodstained walls on either side of us.
He stares wide-eyed at the corridor to our left. “What are they?”
“More of Mother’s victims, I think,” I say, turning to face him, then stumble back as a huge black wave of hate flows over me. I give myself a mental shake. “The one tearing up that girl was spouting off Conditioned responses. Apparently Nick wasn’t the only failed experiment. She must be experimenting on all the Guards.” I pause as another idea comes to me. “That’s why she wanted to shove that Guard on me to couple with. He must have been the only one who hasn’t gone crazy!”
Gavin gives me a sad look and I clench my teeth as rage rolls around my head.
He’s a manipulative, dangerous Surface Dweller, my mind screams at me. Why am I trying to save a Surface Dweller? His kind destroyed the Surface. He hunts for fun. Life means nothing to him. You’re nothing to him. Kill him. It’s your duty.
I close my eyes and take deep calming breaths. No. That’s not true. He’s not like that.
Surface Dwellers are all the same.
I squash down on the thoughts. My fists clench and I bite down so hard on my bottom lip I taste blood.
Finally the voice inside my
head quiets and the only things I hear are my somewhat uneven breaths and the sounds of metal clinking against metal.
When I open my eyes, Gavin is kneeling next to his pack and digging through it.
“What are you looking for?” I ask. He glances up and suspicion surges through me. I struggle to ignore it.
“Ammo,” he says after a second. “I want to make sure I’m prepared.”
“Plasma ammo is in the things that look like small air tanks.” I press a hand to my now-aching forehead.
He quickly grabs two of the silver cylinders. They’re the size of his hand, but fit in his pocket. Then he grabs his Reising and slings it over one shoulder and an ammo belt over his other.
He looks just like the pictures of the Surface warriors that were part of our training, and I suddenly want to shoot him. To attack him with my bare hands. Anything to bring down the threat my body is convinced he poses before he does the same to me.
“The plasma is probably more than enough,” I say through clenched teeth.
He gestures for me to hand him my pack. “It’s better to be safe than sorry,” he says, and hands me the Reising from my pack without even looking up. He doesn’t realize how hard I’m fighting with myself.
Knowing he’s right, I take it and dig through my bag for my own ammunition. I slip a gun belt out of the pack, hook it around my hips, and fill the pockets full of ammunition for both guns, before shoving a fresh clip into the Reising and hooking it around my shoulder.
When we’re both finally ready to go, I make him stay behind me. I can protect him easier if I’m in front … and it’s easier to forget he’s a Surface Dweller if I can’t see him. Not to mention I don’t need the light anymore. Somehow the click has made it so I can see easily in the dark. And I figure it’s safer not to use the light in case we run into more of Mother’s experiments.
We continue down the darkened hall and little noises make my ears twitch. There’s a scuttling noise ahead of us, as if there’s a large rodent infestation in the walls. I’m not particularly surprised when I realize it’s another of the failed experiments; this one is by himself but covered in blood like the others. He seems even worse, though, scrabbling on his hands and feet instead of walking, and his tongue keeps flickering out.
He tilts his head when he “tastes us,” and Gavin and I come to a wary stop.
“Help me,” he whispers. “Mother promised … to make me smarter … pain … so much pain.… please.” He looks at Gavin and alarm crosses his face. “Surface Dweller … protect Elysium…” He crouches lower to the ground.
Without warning, he springs up, growling with his teeth bared.
I don’t hesitate. I raise my gun hand and bring him down with one shot of the plasma.
Then we’re running from the screaming mass of fire-soaked flesh.
“He wanted to be smarter,” Gavin says.
“Only whatever they did, it obviously didn’t work,” I finish for him.
“So, Nick went ballistic because she messed with his head.”
“They all went crazy because she ‘messed’ with their heads.”
There’s silence behind me, and the only proof I have that he’s still with me is the slap of rubber against concrete and the wheezing of his breaths.
“I heard about soldiers going crazy during Vietnam. Collecting scalps and teeth and stuff like that.”
“Vietnam?” I ask.
“Never mind. I’m just saying people can do a lot of crazy shit if you put them under enough pressure. I bet the Conditioning makes it easier for these people to go crazy like this,” he says, almost to himself. “Like your brain is made of clay and it can be shaped into anything. Even a monster.”
We finally reach the dead end and turn left. Both sides are dark, but that’s not what stops me in my tracks. It’s the pile of bodies littering the floor. More bodies. Wonderful.
After a quick study, I realize that most, if not all, of the bodies are no longer living, and we walk quickly through the mess. It looks like another massacre, but this one was not merciful. Most of the bodies are torn to pieces and their parts strewn about as if a child has had a temper tantrum and torn apart her dolls.
Remembering Nick’s reaction, I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what happened.
Gavin starts gagging behind me, but surprisingly my stomach is like steel. I feel nothing. Not even sadness.
Enforcer training, I think. I guess I should be grateful for it this time.
“Just close your eyes and hang on to me,” I say.
Gavin grabs the back of my dress and lets me lead him to the other side of the pile.
When we do, he collapses to the floor and rests his head on his knees. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”
I tamp down my irritation. “Yes, it’s unpleasant, but we have to keep moving. Sitting here and crying isn’t going to help us.”
He looks up, surprise widening his eyes. “Excuse me?”
No matter how much I want to, I can’t swallow my reply. It’s like someone is speaking through me. “Get up, Surface Dweller. Keep moving. We don’t have time for theatrics.”
“Theatrics?” He starts to speak, but cuts himself off.
The look on his face makes my hand go to my plasma pistol. I draw it out and point it at him, my finger itching to squeeze the trigger even as I wish I could take back everything I said. My voice won’t cooperate, so I just glare down at him.
He lifts an eyebrow, and I see so many emotions whirling in his eyes that it finally breaks the hold my training has over me. I drop my hand to my side and shove the pistol into the belt. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m trying … I just … can’t. Okay? I can’t control this. You should just leave. Now. Without me, before I really can’t control myself.”
There’s a scratching sound as he stands and I squeeze my eyes closed even tighter. My heart breaks at the sound of his footsteps.
He’s leaving. I finally pushed him away.
Instead, he pulls me against him. I struggle to pull away, but he holds on tightly. “No, I’m sorry, Evie. I know that’s not you talking. And I’m not leaving you. We’re in this together. Remember? I’m not leaving you and you’re not leaving me. Got it?”
“This is so bad. Horrible,” I say, my voice cracking. The Conditioning is pulling at me again. “I can’t do this without my training. I have to let it take over.”
“I know. We need to keep going. There’s nothing we can do about those people. They’re dead. We’re not, and we have to remember that and keep going. The sooner we get out, the sooner we’re safe.” He squeezes me again, before letting me go. “You can do this. I trust you.”
His words chill my blood, but I nod and open my eyes. Even in the dark I can tell he’s pale, but I have to give him credit. There’s not even a tremor in his legs. He palms the plasma pistol again and says, “Ready?”
I straighten my shoulders and let the Conditioning in again. “More than ready. Let’s get going.”
There are more bodies along the way, but no one is ever alive. The farther we go and the more bodies we run into, the harder it is to keep my emotional side in check. To keep the Enforcer part of me going without giving in to my programmed distrust of Gavin.
We finally reach the dead end that should be where the subs are. There’s a small double sliding door with a sign that says, AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED.
Since “prosecuted” is Mother speak for executed, I’m not surprised no one has tried to get in here.
There’s a flat glass panel on the side for handprint access. I don’t want Mother to know where we are, so I open the back of the panel.
Less than thirty seconds later I’m replacing the panel and there’s a soft snick as the bolt unlocks. I nearly smile in relief when the doors slide open. I want to be safe—to go slow—but a sudden scream behind us propels me through the door. Whatever’s on the inside can’t be worse than what is outside.
I’m wrong.
The door shuts behind us with an ominous clang and we look out over the submarines’ bay … which is filled with Enforcers.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Way down yonder, down in the meadow,
There’s a poor wee little lamby.
The bees and the butterflies pickin’ at its eyes,
The poor wee thing cried for her mammy.
—CHILDREN’S SONG, PART OF PRE-SCHOOL CURRICULUM
So, this is where they’ve all been. No wonder they haven’t stopped us.
Gavin groans. “I don’t suppose any part of this escape could be easy.”
I have to laugh. “What’s the fun in that?”
Veronica, the apparent leader of the Enforcers, steps out of the group.
“We have been waiting for you,” she says.
Time to bluster. I spread my hands out to encompass the room. “Obviously. I can’t imagine why you would stay in here otherwise. Though the view is lovely.” I gesture to the clear glass door that leads to one of the submersibles.
Gavin snickers, but the Enforcer only bares her teeth. “This is not a joking matter. You’ve caused enough trouble and Mother has had quite enough of the both of you.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I exchange another grin with Gavin. “We didn’t mean to keep you waiting. We didn’t know you’d be here. If we had, we’d have gotten here sooner.”
She laughs, and it has this hollow sound to it that sends chills racing up and down my spine. “You don’t really remember me, do you?” she asks, but gives me no time to answer as she continues without pause. “I was recruited after you.” Her fist clenches and then unclenches. “Every training exercise I had to hear how I should look up to you. How all the girls should look up to you. That you were the best. The Governess’s little pet, and everyone else had to follow in your shadow.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“Oh, stop playing stupid. I know you’re not as dumb as you want everyone to think. I should know. You were constantly upstaging me. The child prodigy. You aced all your language classes. Broke all the training records. Had your first kill at the age of six. You were Little Miss Perfect.”
Renegade Page 24
