“That’s a lot easier said than done,” I utter, then hesitantly place my lips to his, feeling the empty sentiment fill when he returns the gesture. I hug him as we kiss, but he doesn’t return it. “Please.”
He kisses me again as his hands slowly push over my back. His arms tightly wrap around me, and he breaks our kiss, moving his head beside mine, beard scratching my cheek. “I want to tell you I hate you…and I want you to leave me alone.”
“But you know who and what you are…and your wants don’t matter,” I quote. His hair blankets my face. It smells like desert air and the light scent of the conditioner they give us.
“Your wants matter,” he states, leaning away but keeping me in his arms.
“And I want to be with you.” I tug him by his neck to me and kiss him with the affection growing in my chest. My body goes numb as all the oxygen leaves it and quickly refills.
His body moves with the kiss, pushing me back until my back hits the wall. He grabs one of my legs, lifting it to his side before doing the same with the other. I wrap around him as his body wedges me against the wall.
I take short, shallow breaths. His room becomes hotter, and the jitters in my stomach kick in, telling me to stop and go at the same time. Pushing over his shoulder, I reach up his brawny neck to his long hair and seize it, letting it fall between my fingers. I yank him closer.
All without interrupting this kiss where our lips join and our tongues meet, he lifts me a little, lips moving lustfully against mine. I’m captivated, sensing he missed me as he tries to pull as much feeling from this kiss as I’m trying to give.
It sobers to a simple peck before he breaks away. “Ky,” he groans. His voice sounds like it’s forcing itself from his throat. “Stop.”
“Okay,” I say catching my breath. “Let me down.”
“Right.” He wraps his hands around my legs tighter, turning us, and carrying me to his bed. He lies over me.
I lightly touch his face, watching his eyes wash me over, from my hair to my neck and back to my eyes. I bite my lip to fight my smile, but it breaks through as I say, “I like how your actions contradict your words.”
“I don’t mean for them to,” he says, dipping beside me and lathering my neck with inspirational kisses. “You just got out the shower?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Nothing, you smell like that soap.” He leans back. “I haven’t done anything to you so you can’t leave me alone.”
But you have, Marc. By comforting me, showing me you care, kissing me, showing your feelings too, and saving me over your twin. I owe you my heart. “You have done enough.”
His purple eyes bore into mine. “You are not good for me, Kylie. You have to leave me alone.”
“You want to let me go?”
He looks off to his left, and his head falls forward as he says, “I can if you stay away from me. But when you come around me or address me first, I can’t.” He glances back at me, then back away. “I need to, but when you’re close and weak, I won’t.”
“I am not weak.”
“You are when it comes to me and your parents.”
I sink deep into his mattress, feeling the truth of that statement bombard me. Only my parents and him can cause that burn in my throat that brings tears to my eyes. They can make me feel like I’m a non-entity without them. Like I need them to survive and battle the world and its invaders.
His door opens, and Sean charges in, laughing. “Hey Marc!” He’s loud and cheerful before seeing us as we move from the bed. He turns, closing the door.
“I should go,” I say, looking myself over.
“You should go.” He takes my hand and comes closer. “Stay away, Ky.”
“Make me.” I lean forward and kiss him.
“Mmm…” he groans against my mouth. “I can’t.” He leaves me for the door. Handle in hand, he says, “But I’m working on it. Make it easier for me.”
I grumble. “Marc, stop with this! Even after this,” I point between us. “You still want that?”
“You don’t get it, Ky. I cannot go…any further with you.” His voice rises, and I flinch away. “I would put you…” he begins in too low of a whisper. “…before him.” He points toward the door. “And I can’t live like that. You are important and need to be avoided.”
Unfortunately, I understand, but he should have thought about this before he liked me first. Before he agreed to kiss me and kiss me again and hug me. Before he took away my nightmares―allowing me to rest peacefully without Luke—and held me while I cried without crowding me with questions, and…and…a lot of other things.
There are a lot of other things I can’t figure out either. “You made me this way. You did do something to me, and it started with you pinning me to the floor and not taking me out when you could have. You initiated the point of interest.”
“No, you did. With your hidden glances and passionate stares as you watched me. You asked me to kiss you. Remember?” He leans into the corner next to the door.
I do remember, and what a kiss. He gave me everything without giving me anything in that moment. And now, he’s trying to take it away, replace those memories with either hurt or anger as I regret ever experiencing them with him. He changed a lot for me in that moment, and I won’t let him steal this from me. “I’ll go. Make sure you don’t make me stay or kiss me again,” I say, now at the door.
There’s a sigh as he drawls, “I’m going to make you stay.”
“But you don’t want me to.”
“No.”
“And you hate me.”
“Yes,” he answers matter-of-factly.
“But you like me…”
“Sometimes.”
Chapter Five
We rose early this morning. The rain brought cooler days, and though we know it’s temporary, we soak it up. Still, rushing to meetings before the morning bell dongs makes me regret being a Creation after the long, quarrelsome night I had.
General Jord had Luke and Marc wake the leading Creations and ordered us to meet immediately. He stands before us, leaning over on his knees, clutching a communication device in his hands. “They are building labs on the other side of the hole. The Guidance wants to start dissection of the undead. They think it’s more than an infection,” he says to the small group of us. It’s about time he comes out and explains that the Vojin put forth the threat. Secrets should not be kept from us, the Creations who are fighting against these things. We have the right to know exactly what we are up against, and it shouldn’t be by happenstance.
Jord allowed Cory to sit in on this meeting, but in the back of the room. Maybe only as a courtesy. Jord continues, “After the construction is completed, they are going to bring in two bridges they will build to cross over the hole.” Those are going to be two very long bridges. That hole was the length of a football field and crowded with Zombies. Posts will need to be built into the hole, among the Zombies. Or maybe they will use a stabilizing structure to handle the stretch. “There will be frequent sweeps by us to make sure the undead do not crowd or hollow in the labs while construction is under way. Because construction will only be permitted in the daytime, they require us to go out and make sure nothing is there in order to keep it secured for the workers. After these labs are completed, there may be a couple of you stationed there permanently.”
Jord pauses. We wait for him to finish while he looks over the communicator, sliding his index finger upward on the screen. Over the past month, Cory has been able to sit in on discussions and be included on territory sweeps. He and I haven’t talked, so I’m not sure what’s going on yet, but I assume he’s working to prove himself, and Jord may be susceptible to these actions.
As though he could sense my thoughts were centered on him during the pause in our leader’s instructions, Cory takes the available seat next to me.
“They do not have a date yet,” Jord continues, “for when the new facilities will be completed. Once they are, we will start sweeps over there
. It will be after the bridges are installed.” He nods, and we nod in agreement. “Attend to your day as usual. Luke and Marc, meet me in my office in one hour.”
We relax once he’s out of the room. Cory stands in front of me, smile as wide as his shoulders. “Hey,” he greets, extending his hand.
I take it, allowing him to help me from the floor of the auditorium hall. Narrowing my eyes, I question, “What’s got you in such a good mood?”
“C’mon.” He turns, grabs my hand, and pulls me from the hall. “I can’t get my spot back, but I’m no longer an outcast,” he reveals once we’re outside and out of earshot.
“Or,” I sing, unconvinced, “that’s what they made you think so they can see what you’re up to because we’re leaving for war soon.”
“They are pushing off the war. Remember the Creations went out to the other countries?”
“Yeah,” I nod, knitting my brows, confounded he knows about this before me. We’ve never pushed off a war deployment for any reason. We should be relieving the other Creations who’ve been fighting the past ten years.
“Well, they have Zombies tearing through their land as well. Everyone wants the same thing right now. To save humanity.”
So the Vojin are to blame. Seems their plan for the Zombies to be a distraction and start the demoralizing of humanity is working out the way they desired. I chuckle, realizing, “We’re stopping killing each other so we can kill them first.”
Cory snorts and shrugs once. “And then back to the same old same old.”
I laugh, shaking my head. Another day in the life, although this slight change may shake up our country, our world. “You think it will ever be over?”
“What? War?”
“Yes.” Will we ever be peaceful like the aliens planned?
He snorts. “Yeah, after it’s destroyed and reconstructed.”
My steps falter, though I avoid tripping. I crane my neck to look at Cory. “What?” I snap unintentionally, shocked by the similarities of his statement and the Vojin’s plan. I swallow hard and force a smile.
His wide-eyed gaze meets mine, bewildered, aware of his mistake, but he laughs it off saying, “I don’t know, probably not. I need to go.” Without another word or glance my way, he runs toward the fields behind me.
Only a Vojin would say that. Those are their words. A Creation would never say ‘destroy to reconstruct.’ There is only destruction. We do not try to reestablish what we have destroyed. There would be nothing to reconstruct. Whatever it was, was abolished for a reason. Why would we waste funds and time putting it back together?
“Reconstruct?” A voice comes from behind me, causing me to jump as I turn back around. Jord’s exiting a nearby training hall.
My mouth goes dry. Unsure of how much he’s heard and how damn good his ears are as we were over ten feet away and speaking low enough our voices would whisper. I hurry to answer, “The same thing I was wondering, sir.” I force my brows to draw inward and my upper lip to curl in disgust. I have played my role well my entire life, and I’m accustomed to lying and covering things up.
“That’s odd for a Creation to use that word. Reconstruction.” Jord strolls toward me, hands clasped behind his back, shoulders square, and eyes piercing through me with his brows knit tight to their middle. “What do you make of that, Captain?” His casual tone leaks suspicion. His brows relax, and his once accusing scowl flips interrogatively with narrowed eyes, a strict tilt back to his head and lips in a tight line as he glares down at me.
I straighten my spine, bring my feet together, and repeat more sternly. “The same thing I was wondering, sir. It sounded odd to me too, sir,” I respond as a Creation would, without opinion, though I am withholding a more typical response. His words render suspicion, and he should be put to death. A Creation has proven he cannot be trusted, and an untrustworthy Creation is a malfunctioned design. Subject is failure and requires termination. I reserve this response because I believe Jord may know about Cory’s secrets, and I’m the one being tested.
“What else did he mention?” Jord asks.
Looking straight ahead, I answer, “He hopes to be working his way back up, sir.”
Jord nods. I spot it in my periphery. “He might be,” he says slowly, looking off in the direction Cory ran. “Keep your distance, Captain.”
“I understand, sir.”
He marches off behind me. I sigh with relief, dragging my hand across my forehead.
“Why are you standing in the middle of the road?” Fein asks at my side.
Where did she come from? “Nothing, I’m walking.”
“Well, where are you headed?”
Somewhere everyone can stop sneaking up on me. “Um, to the training hall. You?”
Fein tucks her fingers in her front pockets and shrugs. “I’m tired of looking at my group, and I want to relax for the rest of the day. Thinking about treating it like a day off. They’re pretty bruised up anyway.”
Nodding, I say, “Good idea. Let’s give them the day off from training and have them watch the guides and Trade instructions.”
Fein chuckles. “Those boring videos,” she drones. “I guess.”
We can’t let the Normals just sit around. They must be learning something, but I agree they need some recovery time. If the Generals or, worse, Luke, were to walk into the training room and see the trainees lying around, we would hear it for sure.
By the time the morning bell dongs, Fein and I have gathered our groups, and we pile into the projector lecture hall with the comfortable auditorium seats and air conditioning. We ask the cooks to serve breakfast and lunch in the hall, and we spend the entire day playing the Trade’s instruction videos from Introduction to Separation for Normals to How to Cope with Loss in Battle. I even play The Path Beyond Separated War, where it goes over how they can submit a division request to be shipped to another faction to be Breeders, Farmers, or even Construction Workers. None of which have I ever been interested in, but their one- to two-hour run time per video fills up the day.
The ending bell dongs as the sky turns to dusk. Fein and I dismiss the groups and head into the cool evening breeze.
“Let’s go to the mess hall and get dinner before it crowds and then head back home and watch a movie,” Fein offers. I’d think she’d be tired of staring at the projector light today. I’d prefer to lie in my bed and dissect that mysterious letter to try to figure out the illegible words, but I agree because I’m working on being more sociable.
I turn on my heels, heading with her toward the mess hall. “We would have to make it home before Sean.”
Fein bursts out laughing. “That’s so true. He will get back, kick off his musty boots, prop up his smelly feet on the center table, and hog the den and the movie player.”
Sean is cool with me, but I can tell he doesn’t trust me, though he doesn’t let it show. He also never brings up that night or discusses Marc and me anymore.
“Ky!” Fire calls, running over to us. “Hi, Fein.”
“Hey,” we greet. “You’re done for the day?” I ask.
“Yes, Marc made us stay behind for an extended training because we didn’t finish our trail in the time he wanted. He is extremely hard on us.”
“Yep, that sounds like hardcore Marcain,” Fein states, chuckling.
“You think they would mind if I came with you all? I don’t fit in with the others.”
Fein and I share a glance, knowing they would, and we shouldn’t friend the Normals. It’s one of the first rules as a leader, but I was associated with Fire before Separation. I shrug, and Fein nods.
“I’ll sneak you in. Don’t draw attention to yourself. We aren’t staying there long,” I say.
“Just long enough to eat, then we’re headed home,” Fein finishes.
Fein, Fire, and I enter the mess hall and head toward the food. We shuffle down the counter, grabbing our dinner with Fire between us. There aren’t many people here yet, so we should be able to sit before the others noti
ce her.
“Thanks,” Fire says again after we sit.
I nod and dig into my lasagna. The food in Separation is far better than the food back home. Danny was right to look forward to this. They give us a variety of options throughout the week, and it’s always cooked to perfection.
Luke comes up next to me, sticking his fork in my lasagna before his butt fully hits the bench. I roll my eyes, ignoring him and the full plate of food on his tray. My lasagna tastes just like his! But Luke, who wishes to be in control of everything, always has to eat my food and drink my beverages. He wouldn’t be Luke if he didn’t.
“Hey.” Luke reaches around me to tap Fire. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m an outsider with the others. I wanted to sit with friends.” Fire shrugs and shrinks into her frame.
Sean sits on my other side, forcing Fire and the others beside her to scoot over. I don’t know why Sean always has to sit by me, but he does at every opportunity. If we are in the mess hall, the rec hall, the auditorium, anywhere he finds a seat beside me, he will take it. “I would not take you as an outsider, Fire,” Sean says. His voice is a replica of Marc’s raspy tone. The sound of it would usually make my heart jump for Marc, but it twists my stomach coming from Sean.
“Sean?” Fire inquires, smiling.
Sean smiles at me. A wink causes his purple iris to flash, and he turns back to Fire. “No.”
“Yes, you are.” Fire cracks a flirtatious smile.
“Then why ask?” Sean adjusts to whisper in my ear. “I think she likes your boyfriend.”
I nudge him with my elbow. “Stop.”
As if on cue, Marc strides over, Collins tight at his side. They sit a little too close for my comfort. She smiles, quietly saying something to him and turning into his shoulder as she chuckles.
“Her too,” Sean adds, whispering again as he bows a nod toward them.
I stop chewing the lasagna I’ve just shoved into my mouth and swallow hard, irritated he’s pointed them out. “Thanks.” I glare at Sean from the corner of my eye. “I was trying to ignore that.” Poorly, but trying. Appetite gone.
Salient Invaders: A Young Adult Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Series (The Separation Trilogy Book 2) Page 4
