Ominous Order

by Felisha Antonette

  A laugh cuts from my throat. “You’re threatening me, Sean?”

  He shakes his head. “Warning you.”

  I tip my chin and drop my hands on my hips. “We can go right now.” Maybe I can’t kill either of them, but I can definitely fight to the death. Boxing was Luke’s thing, and I’ll be more than happy to take it on.

  There are other things worse than death anyway.

  Mark steps between us. “That won’t be necessary.”

  I throw my hand up. “Send someone else to look after me. This way, you won’t need to worry about it. Out of sight, out of mind.” I push the door closed, forcing them to shuffle out of the room as it does.

  “Kylie,” Marc calls.

  “Just stop already, Marc,” Sean insists. “Please stop.”

  I pull my dry hair into a ponytail as I sit cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, shoulders even. My breaths are slow and deep as I try to overcome my anger. I remember Luke’s room at our aunt’s house, his messy handwriting covering his walls with quotes. One helps me. I recall this one was carved into the wall next to his bedroom door. “Anger buried is a man risen.”

  Anger buried is a woman risen. It won’t be easy, but I’ll find myself in this world as a single Creation, soldier or citizen. I won’t let his death kill me too. I’ll miss him, and I want him here. And in a way, he still is. His voice is still loud in my ears, barking his instructions and encouragements.

  I suck in a deep breath, and when I release it, relief washes over me, and again, I feel like I can conquer the world.

  Someone knocks. “Kylie? It’s General Jord,” he says in an orderly tone.

  I rise from my spot before the window. The sun is setting beneath the buildings, sinking below the horizon. The sky is a peculiar mixture of orange, blue, and purple, and I find it relaxing to take this moment to acknowledge the beauties of this planet. Opening the door, I say, “Sir?” and step aside so he may come in.

  Jord passes me to the desk stuffed near the corner, next to a leather chair. “What happened to Luke has taken us all aback. We are all saddened by the turn of events, and while none of us can fathom what you’re going through, we’re all here for you.” Jord looks down and wipes his hand over his shiny bald head. “Luke was a hell of a fighter.”

  I sniff, and flick my gaze up to the ceiling to ease the rising pool of tears.

  “That being said, his passing does not give you the right to go on a killing spree. No matter who you kill, it will not bring him back. Murdering your friends and associates in cold blood is not the way to go about your vengeance. They didn’t do it. Take your anger out on the ones who did. As a Creation, you know this. Stick to the plan, Kylie.” He leans against the desk, crosses his arms, and holds my eye contact. “There are other things out there that need your attention. Zombies are flooding the streets of the America like an angry wave. Cities are crumbling. Creations and humans are turning into those things, and we’re outnumbered.” His forehead wrinkles as his brows rise and eyes widen. “Fr-frankly,” he stammers, throwing his hand out as shock racks his smooth voice, “it’s gotten so far out of hand, it’s mind-boggling Highrum is untouched.”

  I look over my shoulder, out the window, at the peaceful city.

  “Our entire world has been affected by the Zombies, and The Vojin are still planning their attack on the America. We may be looking at the last of our kind.” He presses his fingers to his eyes then drags his hand down his face. “Get your priorities together, Kylie. We need you focused. We need you alert. And most importantly, we need you not to rid us of the best soldiers we have. We’ve lost,” he pauses, “a lot back home from the Zombies. Those who did survive are being brought here, and their numbers are small. We cannot afford to lose any more.” Looking me head on, he demands, “Give me your word this is over. It ends now.”

  I imagine this is how a father would reprimand his daughter, a stern talking to with an edge of warning to his voice and furrowed brows to emphasize how upset he is in her actions. He would give his instructions, and I would be obligated to obey. After coming to an agreement, we would smile and hug once.

  I exhale the thought away. My father’s been gone for a while as is the closest thing I had to one. “You have my word, sir. It ends now.” I nod once.

  Jord straightens, and I follow. “Very well,” he says. “You are no longer on lockdown.” He turns and walks toward the door.

  “Sir?” I call.

  Jord pivots, drawing his arms behind his back as he spins on his heels. His sober gaze rests on me.

  “How did you all discover Luke and I were implants?” Luke and I agreed to not admit to this, but if we played our cards so well, how’d they find out?

  “Seits,” he says, shifting so his arms are crossed in front of his chest. “She reviewed your blood work and saw the traces in your sample. We’ve known since the first round of tests. We knew you two may have been disrupted implants because hosts don’t leave a trace. But it was in your DNA.”

  I lean my hip against the desk and tuck the hair that slips from my ponytail behind my ear. “We’ve been this way since we were ten.” I tilt my head to the side and drag my finger down the inch-long scar that starts behind my earlobe. “Luke and I tried to remove the implant. It was taking over our brains and felt wrong. Our thoughts were different from the other child Creations coming up with us, and we didn’t have much control over the dust escaping our throats when we got upset or too excited. There was something that changed in our parents around this time, and when our mother saw Luke cut me open with this scalpel and bum-rushed us, we thought she was going to stop him. But she finished the job, saying, ‘You can’t remove it, it’s latched on to your brain stem. But you can kill it. They will still be part of you, but they can’t control you.’ We became full Creations in control of our every thought and movement. But the Vojin remained a part of us.”

  “A rebellious host,” Jord calls the name of those of us who still possess Vojin properties but are not hosts. He looks to the left. Just below the shadow of his ear, I see his faint scar line. He says, “I can relate.”

  I chuckle. “Then why would Seits force me to forgo those tests in the labs if she already assumed this?”

  “There was no assumption. We knew. Seits was required to follow orders. Because she knew, she interceded and made sure no one else discovered your secret. Which, by the way, seems to only be half of your story.” Tilting his head back, he squints his eyes and surveys me through his lashes. “There is only one species in this universe whose death causes a nearly supernovae eruption the way Luke’s did. Kylie, you understand we are on your side, but are you on ours?”

  I am on my side. “Yes. I have taken this moment to revamp, and I’ll return in a calmer state.”

  Jord huffs. “We will connect later with more information about our departure, Kylie.” He turns halfway and looks at me from the corner of his eye. I sense he knows I avoided his insinuation about Luke’s death, but I don’t have the answers he’s looking for. All I know is Luke and I have always been different from everyone else, and maybe only our parents knew why. I avoid his stare, and he continues to the door, leaving the room.

  I fall onto the chair and rake my fingers through my hair. Only Jord and Seits witnessed Luke’s death and know we’re more than what we’ve led them to believe, even beyond being mixed Creations. But as clueless as they are, so am I. The only clue I have are those letters that mentioned my parents.

  I lurch from the seat to my vest, thrown across the bed. I search through my pockets for the letter I found under the pillow in Luke’s cell. It’s the same dingy cream-colored paper as the others we received back at the base. Unfolding it, I see it’s only a third of a sheet of paper, maybe ripped from the same one as the others. Rushing to my pants I took off before showering, I snag the other two pieces of paper from the pocket and go back to the desk. I’ve been carrying these things with me since the first one, and I’m grateful I did. In what I believe to be top
to bottom, I place the pieces of paper in order, the most recent first.

  I turn on the desk lamp and bring it close to the paper to make out the words.

  Dear Lukahn and Kylie,

  I hoped to reach you before your parents’ passing. There was so much we needed to tell you about your future, and I’m sorry we never got the chance. By now, approaching your fourteenth birthday, you’re probably aware there’s more to you than what you’ve been led to believe. You ARE Itteix. Light of the universe. Like your parents. Unfortunately, the Vojin stepped in and required your parents give the two of you for implementation. They thought if they snatched you up first, they could mold you into their liking. Your parents didn’t want to, but they had an image to uphold as they were a part of a greater mission.

  Implanted, your parents were sided with the Vojin. They were placed on this mission to unveil their alliance with the Guidance. As Creations, their modified brains and bodies allowed them to go undetected. While they were unable to uncover the Vojin’s relationship with our government, they discovered something worse. They revealed their findings to the Trade, who they had been reporting to, but we could not save them in time. You were to replace them in this mission and expose the cause of their death after you were old enough. We needed to show to everyone who the Vojin really are. Murderers. They planned to take over our world. You and Luke would be a part of the rebellion against the race we looked to as saviors and help us take them down with help from the Creations you were to recruit for them.

  Unfortunately, things took a tragic turn.

  Now, to address what occurred with your parents. We gave them the implant for means of experimentation, and it was their idea to infiltrate the Vojin. Unexpectedly, they were accepted as part of the Vojin’s plot, being brought back to Earth as implants for Breeders in Separation. The experiment brought forth unknown information of the Vojin’s threat before the threat was initiated. We tried to warn the Guidance, but they wouldn’t listen. A legion of cannibals will overflow the earth to complicate our mission to stop them. They will then take over and colonize our world.

  It’s a lot to ask of young Creations who are late in discovering their true identity, but we believe in you. The Vojin must be stopped.

  T.

  The folded corner of the paper flaps from my rushing breaths. I lean back on the chair and take notice of my pounding heart as I try to process the letter.

  That word. Itteix. I heard of this before and by a Vojin a long time ago. The invaders who the Vojin saved us from and wiped out their race. Does this mean some of them may have escaped to Earth and are living here now?

  I thump my knuckles against the desk, looking over the hurried cursive writing. There must be truth to this letter. During Trade Officer Grandin’s unexpected visit, he mentioned Luke and I were different from other Creations. He knew our secrets too. But back then, I thought he might’ve been referring to being a mixed Creation. What if he was actually referring to us being this other species? That means this letter must’ve been written by them. And though that doesn’t reveal who left these scraps for us to find, it does tell me the Trade was involved in our parents’ dealings. And I finally know why we’re so different. Our parents were different. We aren’t one thing. We are all these things.

  Maybe someone at the Trade will tell me more.

  I flip the papers over, and there’s writing across the scraps. I turn the paper sideways and read a sentence that lines up when I place the scraps side by side.

  My silent loyalty is devoted to your parents. You should know why they were murdered. Like my brother, they knew who the real liars were. Join me to help take them down.

  Harold.

  I hold my hand up to my slacked jaw. My heart thumps faster as I realize why the Volones took out Harold and Luke. If it wasn’t for the nature of Luke’s death, the Volones likely wouldn’t have been caught off guard, and I, too, would’ve died. They knew at least Harold knew about their intentions and wanted the secret to die with us.

  I hated Luke for not fighting back, but maybe he did it because he knew his death could save my life. He had to have the first part of the letter. He must’ve known something I didn’t.

  Damn you, Luke. Always looking out for me.

  Because of the way the paper is crumbled and torn, I wonder if someone tried to stop Harold from getting this to us. But who?

  Chapter Twelve

  Night has fallen over Highrum. I look the room over, and my gaze rests on the bed when it lands there. Four pillows sit at the headrest of the large mattress, and the white comforter is folded down to welcome my body to lie upon its cotton sheets. I stretch my arms over my head but fight the yawn.

  I rub my eyes and head for the door in search of something to keep me busy for the rest of my life. Anything to keep me from sleeping alone.

  Carden suggested I come here instead of continuing my duties as a Creation. In light of this new information, it’s an intriguing opportunity. And considering I was specifically selected by Arletta, sticking around here for a while may allow me to get closer to the information I need to know. She must be holding lots of secrets.

  Speak of the devil. “Kylie Alexander,” Arletta greets when I’ve made it to the lobby of the Inn. Her black hair drapes down her back, and her warm, olive skin stretches over a shoulder-wide smile. The red lipstick that I’m starting to believe is tattooed on her lips instead applied daily, makes her white teeth stand out. Though her smile is pleasant, she clasps her hands in front of her belt buckle and pulls her shoulders back as if she expects me to challenge her.

  Maybe she’s witnessed a few of my outbursts since we arrived.

  I wave a white flag by offering her a soft grin. “Guidance leader Arletta. Would your son happen to be around?”

  Her gray eyes shift as she looks around the lobby. “He may have stepped out. When I see him, I will let him know you were looking for him. Is there anything I can help you with?”

  Carden said she was aware of his tentative changes, so I hope he won’t get into any trouble because I’ve mentioned it. “He mentioned Creations possibly changing positions.”

  “Ah, yes.” She flicks two fingers forward, gesturing for me to walk at her side. The ceiling light reflects off of her glossy red nail polish. “Not all Creations are being granted this privilege, only a selected few.”

  I nod and follow behind her.

  We stroll down a silver hall lined with marble posts. “I wanted to discuss this further,” I say. “What would a war-engineered Creation’s new meaning in life be if they were to be placed here in Highrum, with the Guidance? How does one give up their position as a Creation if it is how he or she is made?” I stroll uncomfortably beside Arletta, grabbing the upper part of my arms as we head who knows where. Arletta’s voice is the right amount of friendly and stern, and she genuinely smiles in a way that doesn’t seem forced, unlike her son. Like Creations, the Guidance must act as well. They must appear as though all news they deliver is good news, and as long as they deliver it confidently enough, the citizens of the America will believe them.

  Arletta places her slim hand on my back and nudges me to turn to our left, instead of simply telling me. I swallow my words and tense my muscles to fight the cringe.

  She says, “We have been considering offering multitalented Creations other options. There are not many to consider…however, you and three others have been recognized as applicable participants for this experiment.”

  I snort, jerking back at the word. “Experiment. Why do you call it an experiment? What happens if it doesn’t work?”

  She tilts her head from one side to the other as she says, “Well, see, Creations were designed to think a specific way. They do not take all the options into consideration before executing their plan.” She speaks with her hand moving in front of her, as if the words were in her palms. “In the Guidance ordinance, we are required to take all aspects of a situation into consideration before making a sound decision about a city�
��s abandonment, the life of the America’s citizens, the implementation of new laws, the America’s population, and if it’s properly regulated, and other things a Creation’s mind may not be well-rounded enough to consider.”

  Insulted, I halt. “Are you saying we’re stupid?”

  “No.” She turns a quarter of the way to face me. Her face remains even as she waves for me to continue beside her. “Not at all. I am stating Creations only look at one side of things. They find a way to maintain order, and when there is disorder, they find a way to terminate it. They are confined to this way of thinking. And this is okay because, well,” she lifts her shoulder in half a shrug, “it’s the way they were created.”

  My nostrils flare, and I lick my lips to avoid saying the first things that reach them. You’re an idiot, and you know nothing about it. “Creations follow orders. If we are maintaining order, it’s because we were instructed to by you. If a group of people or an individual is terminated, that instruction came from the Guidance, not a Creation.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. I’m both annoyed and shocked by her and her son’s lack of understanding. “And we are not confined to a single thought process. When we’re on duty and in the public eye, yes, we carry ourselves in a manner that is appropriate. But when we’re alone, we are no different from the average person.”

  We arrive to a set of double glass doors that lead outside to a sitting area within a garden. Arletta pushes the glass door open with her elbow and gestures for me to head out first. From her pocket, she retrieves a handkerchief and wipes it over her clean sleeve. She tosses it in a nearby trashcan. It was a perfectly good handkerchief! “Have you considered the complexity of your thought patterns, Kylie? As an individual, instead of a unit of Creations. Have you noticed anything peculiar about yourself that stands out among other Creations, which makes you different? Some Creations have quirks and features others do not. Like just now, you became emotional and passionate about being acknowledged as a functioning species that explores the evolution of humanity like humans, when Creations are not humane.” She sucks in what seems like a cleansing breath, shoulders rising and smile lightening her words as she continues. “Don’t be insulted, Kylie. Creations are very intelligent creatures.”