The Similars

by Rebecca Hanover

  “The island is several miles off the coast—you can’t see it from the mainland. It’s completely man-made and ecologically sound; it doesn’t interfere negatively with marine life, and the entire foundation of it is made up of materials recycled and ground into sand. The compound where we lived is composed almost exclusively of glass and steel. Everything that happens there is guarded, planned. Every delivery, every visitor—they have to arrive via boat or helicopter. The keepers are not allowed to bring devices on the premises, and it wouldn’t be in their best interest to tell anyone what they know; they’re desperate to please him. Gravelle pays them well for their silence.”

  “How big is it?” I ask.

  “The actual structure? Big—but I don’t know square footage. I know the layout of the entire place like the back of my hand; every hallway and passage, even the restricted ones. But it’s difficult to have a sense of scale when you’re inside it. The only word I can think of to accurately describe it is that it’s floating, which in some ways, it is—the whole island is like some sea monster jutting out of the surf. But that much glass, I don’t know if that’s ever been done anywhere else. Gravelle paid the architect who designed the compound to keep the whole endeavor as top secret as a CIA initiative.”

  “That’s why there aren’t any photos of it.”

  Levi nods.

  “So if it’s glass everywhere, does that mean you never had any privacy?”

  “It’s only glass on the perimeter. Once you’re inside, unless you’re in one of the outer chambers, you could get completely lost in darkness. Our lessons were held in windowless rooms for hours at a time. There were days when I didn’t know if it was midnight or noon, morning, night, or something in between.”

  “He kept you locked up like prisoners?”

  “We had outside time. But it’s an island—where would we have gone?”

  Levi pauses for a second, looking at his tablet. He zooms in on a corridor.

  “We shared rooms—my roommate has always been Jago. Our bedrooms on the compound weren’t all that different from the setup at Darkwood, though they had every technological advance, whereas the Darkwood dormitories are, shall we say…”

  “Primitive?” I supply.

  Levi nods. “Our rooms had touch screens to operate every function, from the lights to the toilets. I never knew anything different. Now I see it was a little bit like living on a ship or a space station.”

  Levi highlights a section on his drawing. “Here’s where all the classroom areas were clustered: an art room, a room for martial arts, a dance studio, a theater, a science lab.”

  He hovers over another block of rooms.

  “What’s that area?” I ask.

  “Gravelle’s quarters. They were strictly off-limits. Code Purple, he called them. None of us ever saw the inside of where Gravelle lived and worked. Code Yellow rooms—the library, for example, which was glass on all sides, including the ceiling—were always open to us. That was my favorite room,” he adds, highlighting it in yellow on the floor plan. Levi fiddles with a setting, and suddenly the whole drawing changes perspective, from a flat, two-dimensional rendering to a 3-D view of the space. Even as a sketch, it’s beautiful. “Every book you could imagine was contained within those walls. The ceiling was twenty feet high. If you wanted to read a book that was shelved at the very top, you could request it, and the entire room would shift like a factory assembly line to bring the book down to you.”

  “Why weren’t they all just digitized?”

  Levi shrugs. “Gravelle valued physical books.”

  We spend the rest of the bus ride planning the next leg of our journey. I fall asleep with my head on Levi’s shoulder. I dream of the compound, of intricate mazes of hallways, and of Gravelle, towering over us, his face twisted and ugly. When I wake up, we’re at Bar Harbor.

  The bus ride has taken much more time than anticipated—most of the day, in fact. It’s getting dark now. We have to stop for the night. I find a nondescript hotel in town and pay for a room in cash. There’s only one queen-size bed that takes up most of the space. For dinner, we eat snacks from the hall vending machine—chocolate bars and chips.

  “Can I tell you a secret?” I ask Levi as I take a bite out of a candy bar.

  “Depends what it is,” he quips as he pops open a bag of pretzels.

  “Ha,” I say, allowing myself for one miniscule second to appreciate the simplicity of this moment. Us, here in this room together, acting, for all intents and purposes, like regular teenagers.

  “So? What’s this big confession?” Levi asks, lying back on a pillow, his hands behind his head. My heart hammers as I look at him, lying there, and imagine all the things I would do…if I could…

  “My dad never let me eat this kind of stuff growing up. I think I was fourteen before I ever tasted soda.”

  “Wow,” says Levi, his whole face lighting up. “And to think, I almost went my whole life without knowing that critical fact.” I toss a pillow at him, and he ducks, laughing. After our sugar-laden meal, Levi sets up a cot in the corner, spreading out a blanket and rooting in his bag for his toothbrush. We get changed for the night without talking. I pull on a tank and shorts in the bathroom. It’s what I usually sleep in, but tonight, it gives me pause. The shorts feel short, and my shoulders feel bare. I climb into the bed; Levi takes the cot.

  “Levi?” I say, as I lie there in the dark.

  “Yes?” he answers back from only a few feet away.

  “Can you come lie next to me?”

  I don’t even know I’ve asked it until it’s too late for me to take it back. I hold my breath as I hear him move from the cot to the bed, where he lies down next to me, on top of the covers. I can’t pretend I haven’t been waiting for this moment, for us to be alone like this with no one to interrupt. No roommates, no curfews, no rules. Just us.

  “What did you mean,” I ask, my voice barely audible, “when you said you fell for me?”

  Levi turns on his side to face me. I expect to see lightness, a smile, or the hint of one. Instead, he is focused and intense. A fever builds in me, starting at my toes and traveling up my spine as he takes my cheek in his hand and leans in, pressing his lips to mine with fervor. I kiss him back, hungry, as he pulls me toward him, the full weight of his body against my own. It’s like I’m melting into him as we continue to kiss, arms and legs entwining, sparks traveling from his body to mine and back again like static electricity.

  We pull away, letting our bodies detach only as much as is necessary to look at each other. I am momentarily flustered.

  “So that answered my question,” I mumble. Levi laughs, the humor back in his voice as he brushes a strand of hair out of my eyes. The action is so tender, it’s hard to reconcile with the raw strength I know he possesses.

  “I’m glad you found that response acceptable.”

  I rest my head on his shoulder, suddenly tired. “Levi?”

  “Yes?” he answers back, his voice thick.

  “If something happens to us tomorrow…”

  “Yes?”

  I look in his eyes. He hasn’t tried to reassure me. To promise that I am safe with him. I am glad for his honesty.

  “I will never regret that you came to Darkwood.”

  * * *

  The next morning, we catch the ferry that will take us through the ocean to Queen’s Harbor. It’s a four-hour ride, but we don’t talk much. We’re both nervous—we’ve made it this far, but the last leg of our journey will be the hardest.

  We spend most of the ferry ride on the outside deck, our coats bundled around us as the wind of the open water whips at us. We leave the bay, lined with trees and dotted with houses. It feels like we’re entering another world, leaving behind New England for uncharted waters. It feels like we’re barreling toward the edge of the planet.

  “Will he be ex
pecting us?” I ask Levi, as I shove my hands into the pockets of my down coat. “The fisherman who can take us there?”

  “Yes,” Levi says. He’s explained that this man knows Castor Island well, and that based on Levi’s previous encounters with him, he won’t tip off Gravelle.

  At Queen’s Harbor—a quaint little fishing town untouched by time—we find the fisherman down at the docks. He’s ready to take us the two hours to Castor Island, but he warns us we’re in for a bumpy ride.

  Grateful for this man’s help, we climb aboard his weatherworn motorboat. I cling to the edge of my seat the entire time, biting back seasickness as we pound through the choppy water.

  When I finally see the island, I’m staggered. In all his descriptions of the place where he grew up, Levi never once mentioned its sheer beauty.

  Jutting out of the water like a majestic, if small-scale, city, Castor Island is a work of art. Wrought out of steel and glass, the compound where Levi and his friends spent most of their waking and sleeping hours glows in the sunlight, its steel hinges and supports sparking colors like a kaleidoscope. The angles of this structure are unexpected and somehow defy logic.

  “It’s stunning,” I say.

  “It’s home,” Levi responds. “If home is the place where you’re locked up without a key.”

  “Was it that bad? Always?”

  “Not all of it,” he admits, as the fisherman steers the boat toward the shore. “I had the others, and they cared about me. We were a team of sorts. A motley crew. But a team, nevertheless.”

  “So.” I stare, entranced, at the compound before us. “How are we going to do this?” After all the travel, all the planning, I suddenly feel foolish. The compound mocks me with its grandeur and otherworldliness, and the truth is, I’m afraid. Can we do this? Is it even possible?

  Levi doesn’t answer. He reaches out a hand, and I take it. Clasping his in my own gives me an instant boost of confidence. We disembark from the boat, paying the fisherman generously for helping us. He wishes us luck—we’re going to need it—before he turns for the mainland.

  As my feet hit the sand, I notice that the beach doesn’t feel at all man-made. It’s like a vacation destination. Well, except for the fact that the Similars were never allowed to leave.

  “I know the security codes,” Levi explains, as we make our way toward the main building. “It took me years to figure them out, but I had a feeling they might come in handy someday, so I memorized them. They have a regular rotation, but Gravelle won’t have changed them. So as long as no one’s tipped him off that we’re coming…” He shrugs. “We’ll be able to walk right inside.”

  “That’s it?” I ask, losing all my bravado. We’re minutes from entering the lion’s den.

  “That’s it,” he says. I detect fear and panic in Levi’s voice, even though I know he’s pretending, for his sake and mine, that he’s in control. Before I can respond, he kisses me. Our lips mash together, our teeth banging. It’s not a kiss, really, so much as a last, desperate connection.

  “Let’s go,” he says. I take his hand, and we do.

  The Compound

  We race down the labyrinthine halls in the compound. I follow Levi, trusting him implicitly.

  “I’m hoping Pru’s in a dorm room,” Levi says. “Or in the dining hall or study. Otherwise—”

  “What?” I ask, watching carefully as he tries the handle of a door, finds it locked, and peers into a small, squat window at the top.

  “Nothing,” he answers. I don’t press him.

  Declaring the room empty, Levi moves on, peering through the window of the next door. I do the same with the one across from it. We repeat this pattern all the way down the hall, until I find a door that’s ajar and cautiously push it open. Inside is a bare bed and the touch screens Levi described on the bus ride here. There are countless machines and 3-D printers, a wall completely covered in steel cabinetry, and a glass shelf filled with needles in hard plastic cases.

  “What’s all this for?” I wonder.

  “Most of it was for me and my friends.” Levi glances over a couple of readouts from a printer. “But with us gone, I can’t imagine what Gravelle will use it—”

  “Surely you have some idea,” says a voice. I turn to see a figure standing in the doorway. It only takes me seconds to realize who it is.

  Sagging skin covers 80 percent of his face. His forehead is traversed by a deep and abiding scar. This is the man formerly known as John Underwood. This is Augustus Gravelle.

  “Emmaline Chance.” Gravelle lifts a hand to his face and rubs his chin. “You’re as beautiful as you were as a little girl. Please. You need sustenance and rest.” Gravelle claps his hands, and in what feels like no time, two guards appear behind him. Under their identical white uniforms, they have stocky, hard bodies. Their faces, free of any lines or expression, look almost inhuman.

  “Show our guests to the lobby,” Gravelle orders the guards. Levi and I have no choice but to oblige as we are led forcefully by our elbows into the heart of the compound.

  A guard pulls me along, and my breath catches as I notice that he wears a gun in a holster. We reach a vast, minimalistic lobby, decorated tastefully with sprawling modern sofas and low glass coffee tables. A million things are rushing through my mind: I’m terrified that we’ll never find Prudence, that this man has already done something terrible to her, that he’ll do terrible things to us. But I try to stay present and keep my bearings.

  “Sit,” Gravelle says as he directs us to a couch. A tray of cheese, crackers, and sparkling water waits on a nearby side table. “Eat. As your host, it’s my job to keep you fed, watered, and laundered.”

  I do as I’m told, and so does Levi. We sit. We eat. We are starving, not having eaten anything since last night’s candy bars. For a moment, I wonder if the food is poisoned or drugged. I guess we’ll know soon enough.

  Gravelle leans back in his chair, his cane on his knees, and watches us eat. “You were a beautiful child, Emmaline,” he muses. “But you’ve grown to be quite stunning.”

  “You keep saying that,” I say between bites. “But when did you see me as a little girl?”

  “Your father and I were roommates at Darkwood, Emmaline, or did you not know that?” He’s still staring at me. I meet his gaze and immediately want to look away from his intensity. But this last bit of information gives me pause.

  “No. I didn’t know that.”

  “I see,” says Gravelle. “We were close, your dad and I. I would have loved to have known you more as you were growing up. Now, I am nearly too late…”

  I meet Levi’s gaze with wide eyes. Too late? What does he mean by that?

  “The two of you have a lot to learn. That can be easily remedied.” Gravelle smiles to himself.

  “Where’s Prudence?” I demand. “We know she’s here somewhere—”

  Gravelle holds up a hand to silence me. Then he reaches for a bell on a side table and rings it. Its sound fills the vast, impersonal room. Moments later, a diminutive man rushes in. Unlike the guards, he is neither muscular nor intimidating. He bows to Gravelle and speaks in a foreign language I don’t understand. Gravelle responds in the same language. I look to Levi for some explanation. Predictably, he lets no emotion show in his face. He is as stoic as ever. My eyes flit to the door. The two guards stand directly in front of it, their bodies forming a blockade.

  Gravelle grins at the diminutive man—a servant, I assume—and the man bows.

  “Wonderful,” Gravelle says in English now, looking from me to Levi with a pleased expression. “Dominic will show you to your accommodations. Dominic?”

  Dominic reaches for my hand. Does he think I need help off of the couch? I stand, bewildered, looking to Levi for some guidance. The next thing I know, Dominic’s sliding a needle into my forearm. Suddenly I feel nauseous, like I’m back on that motorboat. />
  “What are you doing to me?” I manage to ask.

  “You requested answers.” Gravelle smiles. “And I aim to please.”

  After that, everything goes blank.

  * * *

  I wake up disoriented. I’m in a windowless room, so I can’t tell how long I’ve been out. As my mind starts to work again, it occurs to me that I must be in an inner chamber of the compound, in a room like the ones Levi and I searched when we first got here. I’m in a bed with white sheets, and nearly everything around me in this small, impersonal space is white. There are a few machines in the corner, and tubing…lots of tubing. It takes me a moment to realize the tubes are connected to me. I stare at them, not quite processing what I’m seeing. What are they for?

  I look down at my body. There’s an IV stuck in my inner arm. Screens and monitors buzz softly around me. Panic builds in my chest. My first instinct is to run. I try to push myself up to a sitting position, but I can’t. I slam back against the bed. It’s like there’s a force field around me. I can’t see or feel this invisible barrier when I reach out to try to touch it, but something is holding me back.

  I lie in bed, breathing in and out, trying to conjure the meditation exercises Dr. Delmore taught me from when Dad sent me to therapy after Oliver died. They don’t help. My mind is racing. Where is Levi? Is he being held like this somewhere too?

  I fight the invisible barrier again, and I’m slammed down against the bed. My panic morphs into dread. Surely Gravelle won’t keep me in this bed forever—will he? The thought makes my stomach lurch.

  There’s a tablet next to me. I can just reach its screen beside my bed, which I know is by design. He wants me to look at it, I tell myself. Gravelle has put it here, with me a captive audience. He knows I’d rather see what he has to show me than lie here with only my thoughts, bleak and desperate as they are.

  I reach for the screen, scrolling through the different icons. There are encyclopedias full of information on everything from botany and calculus to politics and languages. I click on “Botany,” and beautiful images of flowers pop up, not on the small screen, but in the air in front of me. They are luscious and three-dimensional, as if the plant is growing right before my eyes. Born of what is obviously the latest in virtual reality technology, the blooms are so vivid that I want to reach out and touch them. But they are just out of my reach.