The Choosing

by Rachelle Dekker

  39

  Remko had been locked in Dodson’s office for the last couple of hours. He was sure Dodson was afraid he would run after Carrington . . . and the CityWatch commander was right to worry. Remko had tried to get to her, to touch her one last time, see her face up close, but Smith and another guard had blocked his path. They had dragged him here to suffer as he imagined a life without her. He had been a fool for believing the Authority would allow them to be together. But that’s what had happened. He had stood up there in front of all the leaders and refused to choose anyone else.

  He didn’t mind that he would be without a wife and a family. He had accepted that reality long ago. What he cared about was being without her, never seeing her again.

  The door behind him opened and Dodson walked in, filling the room with the smell of fresh smoke. He walked to his desk and sat with a heavy sigh in his worn chair. “Couldn’t just take the gift that was offered to you?” Dodson asked.

  Remko dropped his eyes, guilt clawing up his back. He knew Dodson had put himself on the line and he was sure there would be blowback because of Remko’s behavior.

  “I probably should have seen that coming,” Dodson said. He lit a cigarette and inhaled long and deep. “Just when I think I have figured out that group of men they surprise me.”

  “I’m sor . . . sorry,” Remko said.

  Dodson said nothing. He exhaled a large puff of smoke that swirled through the air and dissipated. His face held a pensive look, his eyes staring off as if his mind had dropped inside his chest to search for what to say. With plenty of cigarette left, he smashed it into the full ashtray and folded his hands in front of him on the desk.

  “President Carson wants me to ensure you understand the level of disrespect you displayed today. He’s a prideful man and doesn’t often face people who defy him so openly. He has experienced more of that in the past couple weeks than ever before and I think he’s dumping his accumulated anger on you.”

  Remko nodded. He understood and had accepted as much. He felt no fear for any punishment that might be headed his way; he couldn’t feel anything past the pain of losing Carrington.

  The room fell quiet again. Remko waited for Dodson to dictate his fate. Dodson seemed lost in himself again. Remko couldn’t remember a time when he’d seen Dodson so conflicted; clearly he was so disappointed with Remko that he was struggling to speak.

  Dodson opened a desk drawer and pulled out a microchip. He spun it in his fingers and studied it with intention. “When you are initiated into the Authority Council you are given a master chip that you are required to wear at all times. It allows you to move about the city without restriction. You’re also given an untraceable spare, so that if you ever feel truly threatened you can escape without being followed. It’s meant to be used in emergencies only and can be deactivated once you feel safe so that the other Authority members can come get you. We suspect Isaac was using his untraceable chip to capture his victims. Carson has demanded all Authority members turn in their secondary chips.”

  Dodson gave the chip a final look and held it out across the desk to Remko. “You are going to steal mine.”

  Remko went stiff. He replayed Dodson’s words, making sure he’d heard them correctly.

  “Go get her and get out of town. I don’t know if you can start a life outside the city walls, but it would be better to try than to die separated inside,” Dodson said.

  “I don’t un . . . un . . . understand.”

  “I always believed the Authority did nothing but good for this community. I watched my father and grandfather serve before me and always felt proud of the way the council led its people.” Dodson sighed and shook his head. “There are choices this council has made recently that I can’t condone and don’t want to be party to anymore.”

  He placed the chip on the far side of his desk. “Take it, get out, and don’t look back.”

  “But if th . . . they catch . . .”

  “Don’t get caught. As far as my fate is concerned, you stole it and no one can prove otherwise. Now go before I change my mind and throw you in a cell as I was instructed.”

  Remko hesitantly reached out and picked up the chip.

  “Give me yours. They won’t know you’re missing for several hours,” Dodson said.

  Remko slowly removed his chip from its holder on his sleeve and set the untraceable chip in its place. He stood and turned to leave. After a few steps he stopped and turned back around. Dodson was pouring a golden liquor into a small tumbler and was yanking another smoke from a white box.

  Remko looked the man over; saw the tired lines on his face, the wear of time and worry. He wanted to thank him for everything he had done, for the gift he was giving him now, for the risk he was taking, but words had never come easy to Remko.

  Dodson glanced up and the two men locked eyes for a long moment. Dodson nodded and Remko saw the point of his mouth twitch into an almost-smile.

  Remko nodded in return and made a promise to himself that he would never forget the kindness of his weathered captain.

  The moon was clear and bright against the dark sky. In a handful of hours the sun would replace it and Carrington would be escorted back to the Lint Stacks.

  She had spent much of the remainder of the day holding her baby brother, whispering words of love into his ears, trying not to burst into tears when she saw her father’s face. Now she sat alone in her room searching for her song of truth that faded in and out like a broken radio.

  The moments when she heard it strong and clear, she felt peaceful, reminded that no matter where she lived or what the world called her, her true worth was found in something deeper, something stronger. She would still be the person she was created to be, the perfect, loved, and chosen being. No one could take her true identity from her.

  But then the song would fade and the fear of being labeled, of being alone, would creep back in and her entire world would feel like it was falling apart. Life really was a cycle of remembering and forgetting, and Carrington longed for the day when she would no longer forget.

  A soft knock sounded on her door and she turned to see her father poking his head in through a crack. She sat up in bed and smiled at him as he pushed the door open and stepped in. He moved to sit beside her on the bed and wrapped his arm around her small shoulders.

  “Can’t sleep?” she asked.

  “I find rest harder and harder to reach some days,” he said.

  She felt for her father, felt his pain and weariness. She wished she could keep him from harm; but she knew he was on his own journey that would lead him to his own truth. She laid her head on his shoulder and enjoyed the moment of being together. There would be no coming back to this moment, she knew. She would have to soak up every second.

  “I hope you know how much I love you, how much your mother loves you. Even when it seems all she cares about is herself, you don’t see the way she weeps for you and thinks of you constantly,” he said.

  Carrington felt tears sting her eyes. She had seen her mother in a different light since receiving her own truth. She wondered how often her mother had felt she wasn’t good enough, felt she wasn’t beautiful. They were the same, Carrington realized. She had just never seen it until recently. Carrington had always felt that her mother didn’t love her the way she deserved, but maybe the truth was that Carrington hadn’t loved her mother properly either.

  “No matter where you go, you will always be our daughter. We will dream of you, wish for you, love you. You will always have our hearts.”

  Carrington pulled her head up and faced her father. She saw tears slowly sliding down his face and she wiped them off his cheeks. “We will see each other again, Father. I know it.”

  He smiled. “One day, yes, we will. Remember when I told you if I could save you from this place I would?” He stood and stretched out his hand. Carrington gave him a curious look and took his hand. He pulled her off the bed and out through her bedroom door. He guided her down the stairs and to
ward the door that led out to the backyard and the woods beyond.

  “What is going on?” Carrington asked.

  Her father put a finger to his lips and opened the door. Cool air rushed over her. The backyard was dark and she saw something shift in the shadows. Her first instinct was fear, but as the form moved into the light her fear quickly transformed into joy.

  Remko stood a couple of yards from her, a pack slung over his shoulder. He smiled and stepped closer. Carrington felt her feet moving before her head had connected with what she was doing. With fast, long strides she was in his arms, encircled in his warm embrace, her face buried in his neck, his hair tickling her cheeks. She’d thought she would never see him again; yet here he was, holding her to him, his skin igniting her own. She wanted the moment to last forever, to freeze, to replay over and over so she would never have to be without his touch.

  But the moment did end and she felt him pulling away. It was hard not to feel as if she were losing something as he did. “How are you here?” she asked.

  Remko brushed her hair behind her ear and smiled. His eyes were brighter than the moon. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you everything after we go.”

  “Go? What are you talking about?” A hand lightly touched her shoulder and she turned to see her father had moved to her side. “Father?”

  “He can take you away, give you a different future than the one waiting for you here. If that’s what you want,” her father said.

  “But if we get caught . . .”

  “We might,” Remko said, “but I will protect you with my life.”

  Once again Carrington marveled at the strength in his voice, at the confidence that caused his stutter to vanish as if it had never existed. She gave him a curious look and he smiled.

  “You give me strength,” he said, understanding her wonder.

  “We would be risking so much,” Carrington said.

  “Sometimes life requires a risk,” her father said. “It’s your choice, Carrington. This is your journey.”

  Carrington tried to get her mind to digest what they were saying. Remko was asking her to leave, to follow him, to walk with him out into the land beyond the city. He was asking her to risk her life for love . . . and he was asking, giving her the choice, letting her choose him.

  And she did choose him, did love him. She loved him in a way that she never would have been able to before she had learned to love herself.

  Come to the mountains and follow me, beautiful daughter.

  Like a new part of her song, the words filled her soul.

  Come walk with me; come be my seer.

  Carrington faced her father and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her tears dripped onto his shirt and he responded by pulling her closer. “I love you,” she said.

  He kissed her forehead and held her tightly for a long time before letting her go. “No one will ever love you the way I love you,” he said. “I pray you will enjoy much love—” he glanced meaningfully at Remko—“but the love of a father for his daughter can never be replaced.”

  “Tell Mother I love her. And kiss Warren for me every day,” Carrington said, new tears filling her eyes.

  He nodded and handed her a pack along with a jacket she hadn’t even noticed he was holding. She wrapped the coat around herself and threw the bag over her shoulder. She gave his arm a final squeeze and turned back to Remko.

  Come to me, beautiful daughter. Help me create true seers.

  She smiled at the man who was yet again offering her a physical rescue. She wondered at his sweet eyes and kind smile, his strong hands and warm touch. He chose me, she realized anew. We chose each other.

  “Will you follow me somewhere?” Carrington asked, her inner song ringing in her ears.

  “Anywhere,” he answered.

  Her soul, not her feet, led her out into the woods behind her house, into the vehicle waiting there, far beyond the city limits toward the distant mountains. She followed the feeling of her spirit, and Remko followed her directions.

  It didn’t take them long to come upon him standing in the light of the rising sun and fading stars. She could feel him, his love and comfort.

  Carrington didn’t know what the future held and for the first time in her life didn’t care. The moment she was living in was perfect, the man she loved sitting beside her, the man who had saved her from herself standing in the distance, sending out the Father’s call to follow. A call meant for her and for Remko and anyone else who would listen to the truth. He was calling her to help others see the way she did now.

  Seer. That’s what the Father had called her, and now she truly was—a seer of truth, of love, of worth; a beautiful daughter who saw her own intrinsic value. She felt like she held a secret that everyone needed to hear.

  Whatever else happened in the days to come, she knew a couple of things for certain. She would follow Aaron, she would listen to the Father’s voice, she would love Remko, and she would see. The rest would come and go, but the truth would be her strength and she would forever be a Seer.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I feel as though I couldn’t say thank you enough to the people who helped this story come to life and helped me survive the process. No one writes a book alone, and I owe everything to the beautiful hands that helped shape this one.

  To everyone at Tyndale for seeing what I saw in this story and believing in its message, as well as in me. To Jeremy Taylor for making it shine while staying true to its origins. To Cara Highsmith for holding my hand in the early stages and walking me through to the end. To Esther Fedorkevich for being the best agent on the planet, and Whitney Gossett for bringing so much excitement to this project.

  To all my Blue Monkeys: I could never put into words the gratitude and love I have for each of you. You were the first to believe that this crazy dream of writing was possible, and then continued to support and encourage every step of the way. A specific shout-out to Kelsey Keating and Stephanie Pazicni Karfelt, my beautiful blue sisters. I owe you so much. It’s a beautiful thing to know I’m not on this journey alone.

  To Katy Austin: woman, I love you. You probably have no idea the positive impact your friendship has had on me this last year. When I say I couldn’t have made it through without you, I mean it.

  To my parents: my mom for being a rock. A constant voice of encouragement. A beautiful place I could go for release when the journey got too heavy. My biggest cheerleader who honestly never doubted me. I love you. My dad—thank God you have walked this road before me. Thank you for letting go of this world and in doing so showing me how to walk on water. I would have drowned without your example and love. I love you.

  To my husband: I don’t even know where to start. Thank you doesn’t feel like enough for the strength you give me. When doubt, fear, and worry threaten to storm the gates, I can always find you standing beside me in faith. You remind me that I am capable of all that I dream. Your excitement, commitment, drive, creativity, encouragement, and love help me face the dark days and rejoice in the ones filled with light. I love you with my whole heart.

  To the One who gave me the gift to write and entrusted me with stories and dreams, to you alone I give my soul. I am yours and you are mine. Lead me through the darkness so I can know the light. It is well with my soul.

  Thank you all,

  Rachelle

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  The oldest daughter of New York Times bestselling author Ted Dekker, RACHELLE DEKKER was inspired early on to discover truth through storytelling. She graduated with a degree in communications and spent several years in marketing and corporate recruiting before making the transition to write full-time. She lives in Nashville with her husband, Daniel, and their diva cat, Blair. Visit her online at www.rachelledekker.com.

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  In the very first chapter, the day that Carrington Hale has prepared for her entire life goes exactly the opposite of the way she imagined. Has anything like that ever happened to you, for better or for
worse? How did you handle it?

  The Choosing is a dystopian novel. What is it about dystopian fiction that most intrigues you?

  Did you notice any elements of Carrington’s futuristic society that reminded you of twenty-first-century life? What would be the most challenging aspect of Carrington’s world for you, if you lived there?

  In chapter 7, Carrington dreams of her mother telling her, “I’ve heard stories of a time when the Choosing didn’t exist. Everyone chose for themselves. People were joined and then ended their commitments. . . . People in committed relationships were unfaithful; people fought over one another. . . . Society lacked peace, and the people were full of jealousy and hate.” Do you think Vena accurately describes today’s society? If so, what might be the source of these issues, and how can our society—or our churches—better address them? The Authority believes the solution lies in the Choosing Ceremony. Are they right?

  One of the main themes of this novel is the source of our worth and value. What determines a person’s worth, according to the Authority? According to Aaron, the prophetic voice in the story? According to modern American culture? According to Scripture?

  Truth Six teaches girls that “not to be chosen would yield a cruel fate of [their] own making.” But if we are followers of Christ, God sees us as blameless, worthy, and completely forgiven. Why is it often difficult for people to accept this reality? Read Romans 8:1-4. How would your life look different if you truly understood that, in Christ, you are free from condemnation?

  Can you think of a time in your life when you weren’t “chosen” (professionally, academically, romantically, etc.)? Looking back, are there ways you wish you would have dealt with the situation differently? What would you say to a friend or family member who feels like he/she wasn’t chosen?