I had successfully projected my ability. On purpose this time. The thought filled me with a heady sense of control. If only Brendan had been here to see, to know firsthand that I could stop whoever was out to harm me. And maybe that knowledge would give him a tiny sliver of peace.
A week flew by. Every day—even my free day of no duties—was spent training, each longer than the last until I was skipping my afternoon exercise routine in favor of more hours with Dominic. He didn’t seem to mind the extra time with me, even insisted that I was his number one priority per Dr. Moore’s instructions. My memories were still blocked except the one, despite Dominic’s continued attempts at freeing them, but my visions during virtual reality practice were coming more frequently, and my reactions to them were more steady.
There was one thing I was truly awful at though: shooting a gun. And if I wanted to compete in the bi-annual Abilities Competition in a couple weeks, I needed to up my game. Supposedly, with my experience contending in the Elite Trials, I excelled at wielding all sorts of weapons, plus several other useful survival skills. But apparently I’d never trained with a gun in any form, which put me at a huge disadvantage.
Jaxon was currently teasing me on my terrible aim, comparing me to a trooper of some kind I’d never heard of. He pointed at the white-armoured figure on his black tee for emphasis. “These dudes. They never hit their target. Although, in their defense, I don’t think they were ever given proper shooting lessons.”
Brendan abruptly stood from our lunch table and grabbed our trays. “Message Dom that Lune won’t be training this afternoon, Jaxon,” he threw over his shoulder as he slid our trays onto the washroom conveyor belt.
I frowned, surprised and maybe a touch annoyed at his bossy command. But when he turned and graced me with a mysterious smile that all but said Are you up for some trouble? I followed him without comment, a twinge of anticipation shivering through me. Since the night of the party, we hadn’t kissed again. Not that I didn’t want to. Crap, I wanted to so badly. But I knew that something still bothered him involving his past—maybe even his future. He was obviously having a hard time telling me, but instead of asking him like any well-rounded person would, I clammed up.
Because what if the thing that was holding him back ruined our relationship? I wasn’t even sure what we were. Friends, yes. But we’d kissed. And not just a quick peck to test the waters. No, we dove in head first. Where we stood now, I was content with. Perhaps I was selfish for not wanting that to end, but the thought of this sliver of peace vanishing froze my tongue.
If he wanted to change the dynamic, then that was his decision to make.
“Our schedules are all cleared,” Jaxon said, coming up alongside us. “What daring plan have you concocted, brave leader?”
“An extracurricular one,” Brendan replied.
My brows rose and Jaxon gasped. “You rebel, you. The tallest man in The Ridge going toe-to-nose with the shortest man. I love it.”
I snorted. “Can’t we like, I don’t know, get in trouble?” My assailant from the party hadn’t been captured, after all. He or she was still roaming these hallways, perhaps waiting for another unguarded moment to strike.
Dr. Moore said they didn’t have any leads yet but to proceed with daily activities as normal. “We don’t scare easily, Miss Avery,” he’d assured me earlier this week. “Terrorists thrive on fear, so we won’t give them anything to feed on.”
“I don’t think you realize how much clout Golden Boy here has with the big—I mean, small—man. He can practically do no wrong,” Jaxon said. Brendan sighed in mock exasperation.
We passed by the Ability Center as I asked, “And why is that?”
“Girl, don’t you know anything about your boy?” Jaxon’s voice rang out. Before I could point out that technically Brendan wasn’t my anything, he added, “Boy Wonder is a freaking DNA detector. Yeah, he’s also a Sensor with cat-like reflexes and superhuman strength, blah blah, but he can tell when someone has an ability and how potent it is. With him around, you can skip all the guesswork and go straight to dropping said mutant human into a category.”
“Jaxon,” Brendan groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “You make it sound like a science experiment.”
“Isn’t that what we are, my good man? What normal human can bench press half a flipping ton? Or hear thoughts? Or see something happen before it’s happened? And don’t forget that you were stabbed last week and now almost healed. This place may be our home, but you have to admit, they welcome people like us with open arms because of what we are.”
Brendan didn’t confirm or deny, but a muscle jumped in his jaw. Which had me thinking.
“What if someone wanted to leave The Ridge?” At the question, both men zeroed in on my face. Okay, this is awkward. I hurried to add, “I haven’t seen the sun yet. I just . . . I have this strange urge to feel it, if that makes sense.”
A hand brushed mine, then Brendan was lacing our fingers together. My heart skipped a beat at the public display, the first he’d initiated since our dance. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said quietly.
We took a left and walked to the end of a hallway I’d never been down before. As soon as the door opened, I recoiled at the sharp bang, bang, bang.
Jaxon started laughing. I threw a glare at him but he was too busy thumping Brendan on the back. “I like how your mind works, man,” he shouted over the repeated banging noise. It was then that I noticed a long row of human-shaped targets.
I couldn’t help groaning. “Really? Guns?”
“They’re my weapon of choice,” Brendan said in a way that had me peering up at him quizzically. He winked. Was I missing something? That look he was giving me though, like a little boy barely containing his excitement. I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t grin like an idiot. “If guns are your weakness, then I’ll help you fix that.”
A man ushered us through when he spotted Brendan, passing him and Jaxon black handguns and a case of bullets. He side-eyed me warily. Apparently word hadn’t spread that I wasn’t a threat. Or maybe it had, but they didn’t like my abilities. They seemed to accept Dominic just fine though . . .
“They don’t know whose side you’re on,” Jaxon whispered in my ear even as he gave the man an extra friendly wave. “They think you followed Bren here to exploit their home.”
“I—” What was I supposed to say to that? What if they were right? “Why did I leave Tatum City? Why did Brendan?”
“The Supreme Elite sent me on a mission,” Brendan explained. “Said it was a chance to prove my loyalty and worth after we—after I failed to follow the rules.” When we reached the far corner of the room where curious ears couldn’t eavesdrop, he continued with, “Apparently he sent you on a mission too. To spy on me, actually.”
Jaxon snickered and I frowned at him. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat and unsuccessfully smoothed his expression. “Highly classified inside joke that I can’t talk about.”
Brendan shot him a warning look. Okay, weird.
“So we both failed our missions then?” I asked Brendan.
He sighed, then began loading his gun. “No. I’m not done with my mission. Here, you should learn to do this.” He placed the gun’s cold handle into my hand. My first instinct was to let go, but he wrapped his fingers firmly around mine. “First rule: don’t drop your gun.”
“I thought it would be ‘don’t shoot yourself in the foot’ or ‘don’t stare down the bullet chamber.’”
His lips twitched. “Smarty-pants. Just for that, I’m not gonna make this easy for you.”
“I don’t want you to go easy on me,” I couldn’t help saying, gratified when he threw me a wicked grin.
“Well, can you two go easy for my sake?” Jaxon said with a grimace. “‘Cause this flirty ooey-gooey stuff is making me nauseous. I’ll be in the booth next door, drowning out any noises you decide to make. But can we keep this episode PG-13?” He didn’t wait for a reply, already slipping on noise-cancelin
g headphones and sauntering around the partition.
Right on cue, heat rushed up my neck and scalded my face. I tried to pull away but Brendan wasn’t having it. The hand not currently grasping mine reached around me, effectively trapping me between his arms, then finished loading the chamber. Slowly.
“That was the magazine,” he murmured, his mouth brushing the shell of my ear. “Slide to engage the firing mechanism.” His fingers guided mine to the right spot and I struggled to pay attention. His chest pressed against my back, thoroughly distracting me. “Trigger.” Our fingers moved again to who-knew-where. I wasn’t paying attention to the lesson anymore. His scent surrounded me and before I knew it, I was leaning into him with a soft sigh.
He chuckled, then slid away, leaving me cold and alone with the gun. “I told you I wasn’t going to make this easy. Gun pointed at the ground, newbie.”
I gaped at him. Did he just use his charm on me as a—a test? My eyes narrowed. “I hope you know that two can play that game.”
“I’m counting on it,” he purred, then twirled his finger at me to face the target. I did, gladly, as my cheeks reddened further. He didn’t touch me again, which helped with focus at least. And even though he warned me about the gun’s kick, I still chomped down on my lip, holding back a curse when it jolted in my hands.
“I don’t think I like guns,” I muttered under my breath, but Brendan still heard through our synced noise-cancelling headphones and chuckled. I checked the target for a hole. Brendan peered over my shoulder and shook his head, saying there wasn’t one. Ouch. I was even worse at shooting in real life than in virtual reality.
“Keep practicing. You’ll be a crack-shot in no time.”
Planting my feet the way I’d been instructed, I lined up for another shot. “Why are you teaching me to shoot anyway? Will I be using a gun anytime soon other than on aliens?” Bang! Crap on a cookie, I hated the recoil.
“With your luck, probably.”
When I looked up at him, I was expecting a teasing expression, not a serious frown. “What?” I lowered the weapon like I’d been taught and flicked the safety on. “You said you’re not finished with your mission, but what about mine? Am I supposed to go back?”
With a sigh, he picked up the discarded gun and leveled it at the target. Bang, bang, bang. I couldn’t help searching for holes. And found three dead center. I rolled my eyes. Of course he was good. Wasn’t he good at everything?
He excels at kissing, that’s for sure.
I struggled to erase the images popping into my brain, focusing on crossing my arms and jutting out my chin instead. Answers. I needed them and he had them. I wouldn’t be brushed off this time.
Brendan must have seen the determination on my face because he put down the gun and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Yes, you were meant to go back, Lune. But I can’t send you into that lion’s den without your memories. Even if you did have them, you’re finally safe from Renold. You’re finally free, just like you always wanted. The old you wouldn’t want to return.”
I mulled over this new information about myself, about what I had wanted in life. But one thing was bothering me . . . “What about my sister Iris? Would the old me just leave her there?”
He pressed his lips together as if frustrated by my line of questioning. Too bad. When my eyes narrowed, he grunted, replying, “Of course not. Before I left Tatum City, I told you about her to make sure someone was protecting her. But you’re here now. When I return, I’ll keep her safe. I promise.”
“When will you return?”
“Soon,” he said evasively, reminding me that I still knew practically nothing of his past or future plans. My teeth ground together. “I can sense your annoyance, little bird, but everything’s changed now that you’re not in the middle of all the danger. This is a complicated mission and only a few people are allowed to know about it. If we don’t play this right, a lot of innocents could get injured, or even killed.”
“Then why do it? Why did you enter Tatum City in the first place?”
He looked down at his hands, which slowly curled into fists. His forearm nearest to me flexed, drawing my eye, and I wondered at an oval scar there. Who had bitten him? Finally, he answered, “Because I’m righting my wrongs. And because I’m the only one foolish enough to enter while knowing I may never come out.”
My lips parted. So if he returned, there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to leave? That I would never see him again? Out of nowhere, fury rushed through me. My fingernails gouged my palms. I wanted to shout at him, scream that he couldn’t go back. Because . . . because a terrible pain was crushing my heart, and . . .
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” I choked out, then whirled, marching for the exit.
I managed to avoid Brendan for the rest of the afternoon, and when he didn’t show for dinner, I assumed he was avoiding me too. My fork stabbed at a mound of mashed potatoes. “Why? Why does he do the missions?” Stab. “Aren’t any of you upset that you might not see him again?” Stab stab.
Jaxon, Yukiko, and Bells all stared at me with mixed expressions—Jaxon with sympathy, Yukiko like I was insane, and Bells looked . . . guilty. “I’m so sorry,” Brendan’s sister began, tears forming in her eyes. Jaxon held up a hand, then stood, gesturing at me to follow suit.
“It’s okay, Bells, I’ve got this,” he said, a rare softness in his tone. She nodded but continued to stare at her plate. I opened my mouth, wanting to apologize for upsetting her, but Jaxon grabbed hold of my shirt sleeve and tugged me after him.
I had no idea where he was taking me, but when the elevator stopped on the third floor and he had to key in a special code before the doors would open, curiosity overrode some of my anger.
“Did you know that this place was built before the Silent War?” Jaxon said as we passed door after door, each carefully labeled. L-I-V-E-S-T-O-C-K, read one of the signs. “This is the Agricultural floor, dedicated to keeping our community alive. Homeland Security, back when they existed, was prepared for an apocalyptic outcome such as this. Good thing, too. Thousands of people have been saved from a life like the one you were forced into.”
Forced. I was forced? Brendan hadn’t mentioned how I’d initially entered Tatum City. We arrived at a door labeled C-O-N-S-E-R-V-A-T-O-R-Y and Jaxon pressed his hand to a dark panel on the wall. After a beep, the door slid sideways. I blinked, not expecting the quiet area to be so high-tech.
“Perks of being born here and having both parents work on this floor,” he went on to explain. “Plus, my other job—not the teaching chicklets one that I do when I’m off guard duty—makes me a part of the esteemed ‘inner circle’. Stick with me and you’ll get a free pass to all the high security spots in no time.”
With anyone else, the words would have sounded like bragging. With Jaxon, they sounded like genuine pride for his birthplace. I liked him and The Ridge even more now. “So how many jobs do you have?”
“Eh, I kind of tinker in everything. Helps tire out my brain so I can sleep a few hours at night.” At my raised eyebrows, he added, “Downside of the Intellect ability. My racing thoughts drive me cuckoo if I don’t control them. It’s why Bren volunteers in Medical once in awhile and reads poetry. Keeps him in touch with his humanity so he doesn’t go wild animal. All Sensors have an affinity for animals though. Yukiko smuggles in little creatures and stashes them in her room. Don’t tell her I told you.”
“Uh . . .”
When the door whooshed shut behind us, several bursts of air hit me. I yelped, leaping sideways into Jaxon. He steadied me, then draped an arm over my shoulders as he belly laughed.
“S-sorry,” he wheezed, clutching at his stomach. “De-decontamination chamber.”
Did he think I would know what that was? I huffed and threw his arm off me, surprisingly okay with his touch despite my actions. “Isn’t this an extracurricular activity?”
“I got the green light.” He waved his handheld in the air with a sly grin. “
Because I’m a good boy, unlike that tall drink of water you’re currently drowning in.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Please don’t ever call him that agai—” My mind blanked as an inner door slid open and I caught sight of what lay within. A sea of green. Not paint or metal or material, but the purest of shades that only nature could create. Above was a transparent tarp of some kind that slightly dimmed the multitude of lights dotting the ceiling. The air was thick, tasting of earth and rain.
“Welcome to the Garden of Eden,” Jaxon said with a hand flourish. “It’s obviously not the real thing, but pretty close. There’s even a huge apple tree at the center. Everyone who eats the fruit gains immortality.”
When I continued to silently gape at our surroundings, he huffed and tugged me out of the doorway so it could close.
“I swear you don’t understand a word I say, Lu Bear. What did they teach you in that city?”
“Um. I know how to count and tie my shoes.” I was only half-joking. There were so many things I didn’t know, especially without my memories. Only my subconscious saved me from complete ignorance. But I wanted to know more. I wanted to know everything, starting with what made Brendan Bearon tick.
Thankfully, Jaxon was in the “let’s chat about my best friend” mood. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and began strolling down a stone path, saying, “I met Bren on one of my top secret missions three years ago. In fact, I almost shot him. Well, he probably would have shot me first, but anyway. He was being hunted by the Recruiter Clan boss who valued him more than all of his goons combined. The man thought his prized ability detector must have come to harm, but in reality, Bren was deserting. Did he tell you any of this?”
I shook my head. All of this information felt new to me and I yearned for more, even taking my eyes off the plant life around me so I could better capture his words. “Who is the Recruiter Clan and why would he leave them?”
The path forked and we went left, the distant sound of trickling water reaching my ears. “That particular clan claimed Asheville, the old city outside of Tatum City. It used to be vibrant, rich with history and eclectic lifestyles before the Silent War. Now it’s broken, used as a waystation for human trafficking. Anyone unfortunate enough to step inside the old city’s borders doesn’t usually come back out a free person.”
Adaptive: A Young Adult Dystopian Romance (The Elite Trials Book 2) Page 17
