My gaze flicks back and forth from the door, hoping no one walks in on us. I also can’t help eyeing the Vojin behind the other, waiting patiently with her hands at her sides and dark, large, almond-shaped eyes widely looking upon Luke and me. She remains quiet while Noranti does all the talking.
“Over the last few years, many other planets have been taken over by the Vojin,” Noranti says with an edge of fear lacing her tone. She raises her hands, palms up, four fingers splayed out; two center fingers fused together, and what would be the thumb as long as the other three. “When the talk of domination came, many misinterpreted the actual plan.” She walks to us, followed closely by the other. “We were to dominate Earth to enforce a change, to make them a better people and have them live happily among each other. Not to overthrow them.”
“Or turn them all into the walking dead?” I add.
They nod, but only Noranti says, “This is beyond us, and we have become as bad as what we were set out to change.” Her hands lower. “Our leader has been locked away, and many of us have allied and will go against the Volones, but it will not be before the destruction they plan to initiate against this planet.”
With a lazy drawl, Luke says, “So this is why you’re here. You want us to step in to help you.”
The Vojin’s thin lips press together. She nods, and the nod turns into a headshake as though she’s uncertain of the correct gesture to relay her response. “Right now, we are here to inform. Your parents were a part of our alliance, and when they, alone, tried to take back our home from those who are destroying it, they came here for them. We cannot do this alone. When it is time, you will know. You will gather your fellow Creations and welcome us here using the transports. If we can stand alongside the Creations and whoever else is willing to fight against them, we can save this planet, ours, and others that may be affected in the future.”
“Neither humans nor Creations will ever side with the Vojin.” Luke tightly crosses his arms in front of his puffed-out chest. “You can count your losses now. Let us worry about Earth.”
“Actually,” she raises her first finger. “Whereas the mixed Creations were originally placed here to convince other Creations and Normals into siding with us for domination, instead we are asking that you now convince them to stand with us. All it takes is a simple change in words. With the human qualities you have attained and the relationships you’ve built here on this planet, this should be easy.” The Vojin do not wait for us to respond. Turning back into flowing particles, the two sink into the dissolving pit.
I sigh, throwing my head back.
Luke does the same. “What do you think?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I say, voice strained from the stretch of my neck as I peer at the ceiling. I pull my head forward and meet his eyes. “They can’t expect us to do that, just the two of us.”
“They won’t. They’ll probably want us to connect with the others.”
“No one who is mixed will be willing to…admit that,” I say uncomfortably.
“Except you,” he drawls mockingly.
“Luke,” I drone, pursing my lips. “Don’t be an asshole at a time like this.”
Luke heads for the door. “You heard what they said about our Mom and Dad? They were resistance. That’s why they killed them. We’re their legacy, Ky. Our decision is already made. The real matter is whether we will eliminate them.” He taps his throat. “Because let’s be honest, who are we, really?” He leaves, closing the door behind him.
I pack the marbles back in a pair of socks and stuff the socks into the drawer. I pause, hand clutching the knob of the drawer. Luke had opened the door to our parents’ room that day we’d rushed home from our first big win. They’d missed it, and they never missed supporting us. Crowded by four Waulers, Luke and I were surprised by two hiding behind the door. Before our eyes, they beat our parents to death before knocking us out. We woke up days later in the hospital, Trade member Councilman Luckett advising that guardianship over Luke and I was being transferred to our aunt. But now I know that Waulers did not murder our parents, but instead implants, Vojin are responsible. How dare the Vojin ask us for our help? We are our parents’ legacy, and we should avenge them.
I grab my clothes for a shower.
I open my door and see Marc passing. He doesn’t look in my direction. He sees me though. He keeps his shoulders back, spine straight, chest pushed out, arms swaying at his sides, and head held high, facing forward. Not once glancing my way to acknowledge my presence. I wait until he hits the stairs before I enter the hall.
Seeing him makes my breath stutter. A heaviness weighs on my chest, and from my heart, cement pumps through my veins. Marc and I weren’t together. Togetherness or companionship are not gifts Creations are granted. I’ve never wanted this, but I may have wanted something with him. What that something may be... I don’t know. Not yet. But I hope I’ll get the opportunity to figure it out.
On my way to the shower stalls, I pass Fein, Floyd, and Sean sitting in the den laughing and talking loudly. Some dispute they’re having about sourdough bread versus whole wheat bread.
Collins is in one of the stalls singing a familiar song I never learned the name of. I’ve missed out on many luxuries most have reveled in, never concerning myself with music or the little things, though I wish I had. I don’t interrupt her.
Her singing stops once I cut on the shower. “Who is that?” Her high-pitched voice rings over the water patter.
“Ky,” I say, hating that she’s asked. I’m not in a chatting mood.
“Hey Ky. How do you feel about some of the others leaving?”
“It doesn’t bother me.” She thinks she should be picked for everything. “We weren’t supposed to be picked for that. We are supposed to stay here and train our teams for Separation.”
“You all went to Chicago,” she says matter-of-factly, waggling her finger over the stall’s wall.
“We were only gone for a day. Not weeks, like they are going to be gone for now.”
She goes back to her song, louder than she was originally.
Collins can be an acceptable person in passing. Not a friend. She is manipulative and conniving. And she’s heads over heels for my brother. No girl in their right mind should be that crazy over Luke. He doesn’t care about her, and yet, if he offered her a doggy treat, she’d bark and do tricks. I wonder what her feelings are for him. Does anyone else here love? I wonder if I’m the only person who actually cares about someone here other than their twin. We are not supposed to. Luke did. But I’ve never heard another Creation say it. It could be because we aren’t supposed to; those are feelings we keep concealed. Taking away our human emotions, which they should have stripped from us, instead of conditioning us to believe what we should and should not feel.
These feelings are an inconvenience.
I wash my hair, and I’m out before Collins. She takes long showers. Her water has got to be cold.
A folded note lying on my bed catches my eye as I close my bedroom door. I rush to my bed, snatching up the wrinkled, cream-colored paper.
I glance over it.
The words are in cursive, hard to read. The bottom is signed with a fancy T. A T I know well enough to be the Trade. I sit, trying to decipher the minuscule handwriting. I make out the words parents, death, Vojin, and Creations. The word Implanted stands out in all caps. I can make that out clearly—the clearest word in the short paragraph. This isn’t even a full sheet of paper, but a scrap likely torn from an eight by eleven.
Luke is also legible.
I study it longer, trying to put together the puzzle. I wasn’t born for cracking jigsaw puzzles.
…Implanted your parents were put with the Vojin. They were created to…as Creations, they bred to continue their mission to destroy the Vojin. Successful in discovering the Vojin’s plan for destruction…their death after you two were old enough. Luke…untold plan for reconstruction…
T.
I don’t understan
d. I know how my parents died. The Vojin told me they killed them. But I didn’t know they were implanted into the Vojin. I thought they were Vojin who were implanted into Creations or Breeders, humans. How many roles did my parents play? They were implanted by the Vojin to breed for Separation. But this paper that I assume is from the Trade is saying my parents were also implanted into the Vojin. Which means the Trade must know about Luke’s and my association with the Vojin.
The Trade holds the most power on this planet. They know about everything that goes on in and outside the world, from delegating tasks among the factions, keeping order in the development of Creations, maintaining a level of communication between the countries that’s enough to mitigate but not enough to invoke peace, and they monitor life force outside Earth.
It would make perfect sense if they had a hand in this. They have all the resources. But why? What was the Trade trying to figure out, and why were our parents important to this plan? Did the Trade know the Vojin would use them as implants and send them to Earth to infiltrate Separation?
I don’t know if I’ll find the answers to these questions, but the Vojin knew, and that has to be why they murdered them. I guess the greater question would be, if the Vojin couldn’t trust my parents, why are they trusting Luke and me?
I knock on Luke’s door, hoping for his help.
A girl snickers, and he shushes her. “Luke, I need to talk to you right now. She can see you later.”
“Ky, wait.”
“No, Luke. Now.”
The door opens, and Luke steps out. “Wassup, Ky?”
I show him the letter. “Look.”
He glances at it. “I can’t read this.” He grumps at me and snatches the paper from my hand. “What is this saying?”
I point to the words as I quietly read the ones I was able to make out. “What do you think that means? Can you try to make out these other words?” I point to scribbled lines that are supposed to be letters.
“Implanted?” he whispers, crossing the floor from his room to mine just across the hall.
I follow behind him. “I get that part. I know what that means. But I don’t understand what it’s trying to tell me.” I close my door after we’re in. “Why is your name on it?”
He sits on my bed. “Luke…” he reads, trying to make out the words. “What is this, a fancy C?” he asks disgruntled. “No, a B. Dammit!” He stomps. “Who wrote this, and why don’t they know how to spell?”
“Calm down, Luke. You’re too loud.”
“This is frustrating. I don’t know what it says. Luke knows…maybe. Luke blows… Luke follows…Ky,” he shrugs. “I don’t know. Our parents were implants from the Trade. You think the Trade wrote this? It’s signed with a T.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
He stands. “It’s not enough for us to go by. The words are smudged, we can barely read what it says, and the paper is old and crinkled. Who knows how old it is?”
“What’s more important is where it came from. Who would leave this on my bed, and how do they know about it?”
“That is a damn good question, Kylie.” He heads toward my door. “But we aren’t going to find out the answers to these questions now. We’ll try to figure it out later. Keep an ear and an eye out. Make sure we aren’t being watched. No more talk about this until we figure it out. No talk about anything, with anyone. You hear me?” He looks at me head on with his brows high.
His insinuation is far too clear. “Yeah.” I plop down on my bed. He leaves, and I lie across the mattress, holding the letter over me as I reread its cipher.
Luke will go back to that girl, and I’ll wait until he comes and gets me so we can sleep. He should stop letting those girls in his room. They are going to catch him, and then we’ll have to sit through a lecture about relations among Creations and how they are not permitted. And if we do revel in such actions, there will be consequences. Luke says our government won’t care about his actions. But even if they knew you wouldn’t choose someone over your twin, that doesn’t mean the other person wouldn’t choose you over theirs.
I fold the crumpled paper over, following the indented lines. Someone here knows about us. Especially after reading this letter. We need to find out who.
Sean yells with Fein laughing loudly from downstairs. “What are they doing?” I head out of my room and catch Marc’s door close.
Don’t do it, Ky. Go downstairs like you planned.
I look left and right before I cross the hall on my tiptoes so I’m heard by no one. Placing my ear to the cold wood, I listen and hear no voices. I take in a breath of confidence and take a small step back so I can look at the doorknob. Grabbing it, I turn it and push the door open before I can change my mind. Stepping in, I shut the door behind me and quickly, but quietly, face him.
He’s lying on his back, his head facing the ceiling.
I walk to the side of his bed.
His head slowly turns to me with his left arm resting on his forehead. Even slower, he opens his eyes.
“I can’t,” I mumble, as I slowly squat down to be eye level with him.
He closes his eyes and returns to his original position. “You don’t listen.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, lifting my hand to touch his shoulder then deciding against it. I rest it on my knee instead. “Can I explain further now?”
He shakes his head. “I already know, Ky. I don’t need you to explain anything.”
“I can’t leave you alone,” I admit before he continues with his rejection. “Please stop telling me that.”
“Leave me alone, Kylie,” he orders, turning and sitting up. I move back, standing. “Don’t you understand that?” he fires off. “Whatever it is you think you want or need to explain to me, I don’t want to hear that shit!” He’s loud enough that if someone were at the door, they could hear him, but hopefully not all the way downstairs. “You need to get oughta here.”
“Marc, I―”
“No,” he cuts me off. “You are nothing to me.” He jabs a finger toward the door, rage darkening his eyes. “Get out.”
A rough breath thrusts from my lungs, charging from my throat. I cough from the feeling of the wind being knocked out of me. A fire blazes my throat, and beyond my control a tear falls.
He looks away from me, turning his head toward the far wall and his chest of drawers.
He’s hurt me, and I don’t like the way it makes me feel. The hurt is replaced with anger. I ball my fists, and a string of hostile words build in my throat.
I try to catch my breath, and I’m reminded of the sound of my cry when I watched my parents get killed. It softly echoes off the walls of Marc’s room.
Before it can happen again, I grab ahold of myself and walk to him.
Looking up at him, I whisper, “I only did it to save Sean. If it weren’t for me, he would be dead.”
Marc straightens his spine, and his frame somewhat towers over mine, but only by a few inches. He takes a step forward, forcing me back. My feet scrape against the rough wood floor. Heavy breaths heave past his nostrils, thrashing against my crossed arms. “No. If it weren’t for you, you would be dead,” he states devilishly, inches away from my face. It sounds more like a threat, that maybe if he didn’t have feelings for me, he’d take me out. His gaze shifts from my eyes downward then back before he pushes me. “Or maybe you wouldn’t be because they would save you.”
I scoff. “You are angry with me because you saved me?”
He stares at me, shadowed eyes peering through me as though I were a window instead of solid flesh. He’s tearing me apart with his silent glare. “You need to leave.”
“Talk to me,” I demand. “Tell me why you’re really angry.”
“You are one of them, Kylie. You aren’t supposed to be here. And because you are, there is only one explanation, and it’s not a good one.”
“I am a Creation. I am not one of them.” He shakes his head and pushes me to the door. I shove his hands away from me.
“Just hear me out, Marcain, and stop pushing me.” I continue when he backs away. “I have no allegiance to them. This is all based on a plan that started with my parents. The Vojin thought we could help in it to better this planet.” He gives me a disgusted look, and I correct, “Better our planet. They killed my parents and lied to us for years, and now things are worse, and they have a different plan that we are not trying to be a part of. We want to destroy them and their plan instead.”
“Why should I believe you?” he asks, purple gaze shifting around his room, continuously avoiding me.
“I wouldn’t lie to you. I am no different from who I was before. You cut me, I’ll bleed like you, and a twin will heal me as yours would. You look into my eyes and see them infused how yours are. I am like you, and my thoughts are no different than they were before.”
Marc runs his hands through his dark hair and leaves them resting at the back of his neck. “Even with that said, Ky, you still need to leave. And leave me alone.”
“I…can’t!” I say slowly. “I don’t know why, but I can’t. It was easier when you weren’t upset with me. Even then, I thought I could forget about you. But I can’t.” I grab his arm. His jaw works, bulking from the tension in the muscle. “There is…affection for you that won’t let me.”
His eyes shift to mine. “Don’t say that, Kylie.” His voice goes down an octave.
“Just stop…trying to force me away. I couldn’t tell you, and I wouldn’t, and you wouldn’t have asked because we won’t uncover and discover the bests of each other. But I can’t just let you go and see you every day. You know you can’t either.”
“Don’t try to uncover me, Kylie.”
“I’m uncovered,” I yell, shoving my hands through my hair.
“I’m in too deep with you,” he says as I walk closer to him. “You’re not good for me, and I need to stop this. You need to stop this.”
Salient Invaders: A Young Adult Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Series (The Separation Trilogy Book 2) Page 3
