Salient Invaders: A Young Adult Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Series (The Separation Trilogy Book 2)

by Felisha Antonette

  “Yeah. I should.” He grabs his vest as he gets up and approaches the small group. He bumps Luke and Marc’s shoulders as he passes.

  I take in the sight of Luke’s loathing expression and look away from him to the floor. The heat slowly leaves my cheeks, and I drop my hands to my lap. “Luke.”

  “Ky.” He matches my resentful tone.

  “You know, Ky,”

  “Don’t start, Luke.” It was a thoughtless mistake, and I’m going to beat myself up far worse than he can.

  He turns away from me and leaves the room.

  I get up, following him.

  Marc grabs my waist as I walk past him. “I wasn’t serious, Ky, with what I said earlier.”

  “Marc, enough, okay. Leave me alone,” I say, turning away from him to continue after Luke.

  He pulls me back. “Why are your lips so red, Kylie?”

  “Excuse me,” I turn, and he turns with me. “You don’t have to follow me,” I snap.

  He snorts. “I need to talk to you.”

  When we make it to the top of the stairs, I whip around and have to keep myself from shouting. “About what, huh? You keep ignoring how frustrating this all is! It’s an obligation for us to keep each other at a distance. So do that.” I pivot but turn back to add, “Before you kill me, and you wind up getting killed.”

  Marc gently grabs me by my waist, stopping me from turning away from him. “Is that why you have been acting funny all day? Because of what I said last night?”

  “No. Just…” I grind my teeth and sigh, calming myself enough to say, “just go away. And I promise I’ll do the same.” In the shadows of the stairwell, his plum eyes shine softly as he glares at me. They stab me through my chest with his silence, threatening me to take back my words.

  Seconds pass, and longer than I like, we stand staring at each other. Then he hangs his head forward, nods, and walks away from me.

  I grab his arm. I’m not going to take my words back, but him having nothing to say and walking away from me isn’t acceptable. His arm slips through my hand as he continues away from me. When his hand reaches mine, it slips away too.

  I move my arms behind my back to prevent myself from reaching for him again, and I hold the railing of the stairs to keep me from going after him. When Marc is out of sight, I turn my attention back to my brother and go down the hall to his room.

  “Luke,” I call at his door.

  He whips the door open and turns away when our eyes meet.

  “Luke, I’m sorry.”

  “About what, Ky?”

  “I don’t know, but you’re angry.”

  “Not angry, just disappointed. I asked to swap out Marc and Sean for tonight’s sweep. We will go with Jord and Seits and Marshal and Danielle. Tomorrow is supposed to be hotter than today, and we will have training inside. It will be limited. We don’t want people dying from heat exhaustion. You really need to get it together, Kylie,” he scolds. He avoids looking at me. The smoke is practically charging from his ears though he keeps his voice even.

  “You’re not my dad. You don’t have to talk to me like that.”

  “I’m the closest thing to a dad we both have.” He slams a drawer closed. “I’m trying to help you. I’m trying to get you to understand. If you want, I could kill both of them to make it easier for you.” He finally looks at me, after the anger has washed from his eyes.

  I’m disappointed in myself. I sit on his bed. “I don’t want you to kill them, and besides, I would want to kill Marc myself. No one else could eliminate that distraction but me.”

  Luke sits beside me. “What are you going to do? You can’t keep going on like this.”

  “I’ve been trying to get information from Cory since we saw him leaving Jord’s office. He finally told me his name was on that list.” Luke’s eyes grow wide and quickly sober before he shifts his gaze to the floor. “And he knows who the others are. I don’t know―”

  Someone knocks on the door, cutting me off.

  He gets up answering it. It’s a girl I’ve frequently crossed paths with, but never gave her a second thought.

  I scoot from the bed. “I’ll go, Luke. Come get me when you go eat.”

  The girl steps away from the room’s opening and gives me a small smile on my passing. “Hi, Captain Kylie.”

  I glance at her from the corner of my eye. With a single hitch of my left brow and a slight smirk, I acknowledge her with my silent greeting and continue to my room.

  I open my door and nudge it closed with the heel of my foot. It’s nice and cool in here. I sigh, flopping down onto my bed on my stomach. My muscles relax, and I quickly grow tired.

  But sleep is never good alone.

  I scream at the Vojin as they beat my parents and at my uncle as he pins me down, forcing me to watch. With no fair warning, I cry, consumed by my weaknesses, by my memories, by my sadness and hate. Everyone is torturing me, and I’m not strong enough to break free alone. I can’t save my parents or myself.

  “Ky,” my name calls out from the light in the ceiling that I shift my gaze to when my father’s neck is snapped. The heavy arms pinning me down become consoling, and the bright light fades to a comforting, warm purple.

  I relax and hold the shoulder of the arm that holds me. “Thank you,” I tell Marc. I don’t have to open my eyes to know it’s him. I’m familiar with the hold of his body, the touch of his hands, the smoothness of his skin, the scruff of his beard scraping my forehead, and how the soap that we all use smells different on him.

  He kisses my head once and says, “You’re welcome,” as he holds me, rubbing my back.

  I fall back asleep in his arms until there’s a knock on my door. I act like I don’t hear it.

  I hear the door open, and Luke walks in.

  “I didn’t know if it was you or not,” Marc says.

  “What happened?”

  Marc’s shoulders move. “She was screaming and doing that jerking thing she does when she sleeps alone. I’m helping her calm down so she can get some rest.”

  “She probably appreciates that.”

  “I don’t know,” Marc says in a mellow tone.

  Fabric scrapes against plaster, likely Luke sliding down a wall. “You can’t have this. It’s getting too serious for her.”

  “We don’t need to have this conversation.”

  “Why don’t you just,” Luke pauses, likely thinking of the right word to use, “stop?” The stress in his tone as he releases the word is heavy with frustration and defeat. A tone he’s often used with me but not with others because he wouldn’t reveal his concern to anyone. But he lets his guard down with Marc.

  Marc calmly says, “I do, but she comes back.”

  “If you walked away, she would too.”

  “Luke, we do not need to have this conversation, and you know that is not true.” The gravelly tone of his voice mixed with his rasp makes his statement sound angered. But that’s just Marc.

  There’s a constant knocking on the floor, likely Luke warding off his irritation. “I’m adding in my thoughts and opinions. I understand you know, but I’m giving you another perspective. I think Ky has, um, certain restricted feelings toward you, and if she does and you hold the same type of fondness…Sean and I are out on a limb.” Luke stands up. “Let’s keep this family-oriented. We’re cool, and I don’t want to force you to stay away from Kylie.”

  Marc snickers. “Got it, Luke.”

  The door opens and closes.

  “He’s right,” I say against Marc’s neck.

  “I know that.” He adjusts, forcing me to move as he gets up from my bed. “I came in because you were miserable. I intended to leave when you got up.”

  I hug my knees to my chest and look away from him as I ask, “Why can’t we shake this?”

  “We can.” He crosses the floor to the door.

  “Hold on,” I say when he grabs the doorknob.

  Marc faces the door, head hung low. “No, Ky,” he says in an apologetic to
ne. “Remove the temptations, overcome the obstacle, and eliminate the distraction. And you live.” He breathes. “It’s straightforward. Plain and simple.”

  I scoot to the foot of my bed and resist the urge to go to him because I don’t want to battle with him pulling away from me. “I know you are right. I know Luke is right. And I agree. But we see each other every day and sleep in this small house with only a few feet separating our rooms.”

  He looks over his shoulder, staring at me with a hint of anger lingering in his solemn expression and a question in his eyes. “What were you doing with Cory earlier?” He looks away from me. “And if you don’t mind, I would appreciate it if you told me the truth.” He faces me, full-bodied, leaning his back against the door. His left hand is still clutched around the doorknob.

  I rub my index finger over my lips, maybe wiping off the proof or clearing the lie I was preparing. “Why?”

  He glares at me, eyes squinting into tight slits, lining their purple. My cheeks burn, and my neck grows hot from his scowl, the anger I can see boiling in him from my evasion. His shadowed eyes lower, matching his thick eyebrows, lips in a thin line, his nostrils flared.

  I remain silent.

  He scratches his beard with the bed of his nails and pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. He bites it hard before letting it go and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Fine,” he blurts. “I’m not playing this game with you, Kylie. Are you going to answer the question or not?”

  I shake my head. “Not.”

  He twists the doorknob. “If you were trying to find a way to push me away and cause me not to trust you, you picked the right thing to do.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He grumbles before saying, “I asked you not to do that with him. I’m not stupid, Ky. I don’t get what you’re doing, what this is you have with him and me. Or maybe you don’t even know, and you just go after whichever one of us is available for your convenience.”

  I jump to my feet and fight the urge to shout. “Don’t be rude, Marc. You know it’s nothing like that.”

  “Whatever, Kylie. I’m done. This is stupid. And how I feel about you…you’re not worth it, or my negligence in saving you over my brother.”

  My legs grow heavy, and an odd feeling attacks my chest. The knife of his words cut me deeper this time, jabbing me right into my spine. I think I just felt my heartbeat stop and stall before beating again.

  “Marc, that is not fair,” I mutter breathlessly. My throat closes tightly around the words.

  “Whatever, Ky. If you were innocent, you’d say so.” He shakes his head. “So if you are going to continue to do that, I can’t continue to do this.”

  “This? Just earlier you were pushing me off on him, begging to have nothing to do with me. Now, we’re what, breaking up? You wanted us to be apart. You wanted this.”

  “Right, Kylie. I don’t argue.” He opens the door. I rush to him as he’s walking out. “You don’t have to follow me,” he says, looking over his shoulder, and he stops me in my tracks.

  Dammit!

  Chapter Nine

  “The meteorologists have announced a heatwave for the next five days. We’ve been instructed to limit training until it has passed. Luckily, some of you will be heading out. The Guidance is requesting Creations for Citizen Management. I’ll have the list of who will be leaving before dinner. The ones chosen will leave in forty-eight hours,” Sir Jord states before leaving us.

  He carries a notepad in place of the tablet he’s been carrying around. The paper clipped down on the wooden plank is black. Maybe he has concerns of his information being hacked, so he’s resorting to written notes.

  Could it have been Jord who left the note on my bed?

  The past three days have been quiet. The heat has been putting a damper on training, so we’ve been indoors. I’ve stuck to myself; the less contact and communication with the others, the better.

  I sit quietly at the table in the rec hall. The others ramble, and I nod when addressed, but everything has felt wrong and out of place for the last couple of days. I know I’m to blame, but Marc really knows how to lay it on thick. For three days now, this pang has persisted in my chest and back. What would be a good name for this? Maybe, heartbreak? Yeah, that’s a good tag I can put on this, because that’s what it feels like.

  Heartbreak: overwhelming distress.

  Well, I’m not distressed, and the pangs aren’t overwhelming. It just hurts. So maybe it’s not heartbreak, but disappointment. Marc is back to ignoring me, but he looks at me like he’s waiting on me to say something to him first. But I won’t. I have to let him think whatever it is he’s thinking and leave it be.

  Everyone hangs out in the rec hall. The snacks are out, and the air is cool. But what I wouldn’t give to lie around for a day. But that would lead to sleep, and sleep alone leads to nightmares. It’s not like me to think like this, but if someone could grant me one wish, I would wish to be able to sleep by myself without my dilemmas. Just one night, I’d like to know what it feels like to sleep alone and be calm.

  Collins rants on about how she wants to be picked for Citizen Management. Luke’s out with Marc and Colonel Harold. Harold is quite mysterious, never allowing his face to be seen, stealthily walking the grounds as though he’s waiting for something to occur. He rarely speaks, but when he does, the information he reveals is always useful, as though he cherishes his words.

  “Hey,” Sean sits next to me.

  “Hi.”

  He runs his hands through his hair. “You two give me a headache.”

  “Me too.”

  He dissolves into a fit of giggles. “How long is it going to last this time?” he chaffs.

  “Forever, I hope.” I mean it, but then I don’t mean it too.

  Looking away from me, he says, “Me too.” I knit my brows. “Or until I don’t need him anymore. Or until you’re sixty-five.”

  That’s out of the question. With this destruction that’s to come, I doubt any of us will be seeing our next year’s date of birth. “I doubt that either of us will make it that long. And even if we do, we’ll probably want to continue fighting after. Or maybe we’ll forget about each other.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” He looks around. “Aren’t you tired of hearing Collins blabber? I don’t see how anyone could enjoy listening to her with her constant nagging. Collins,” he yells. “Shut up!”

  “You shut up,” she shouts back.

  “There is an announcement from the Guidance,” a robotic voice calls over the speakers of the mess hall.

  The back wall of the rec hall blacks out, revealing its screen. It flickers on, and a woman’s avatar face presents itself, a smile making the animated figure more cryptic than friendly. “Thank you for being available for this announcement,” the woman states in a kind voice. “It has come to the Guidance’s attention that there are banned actions taking place, involving Creations of Separation.” The woman’s head looks left, then right, as though it were looking the crowd over. “These actions that display attractions and affection with others are not permitted in Creations. Creations should not become fond of one another or involve themselves in actions that demonstrate fondness. If you are not aware of these restrictions, please locate your nearest Live by Creation Guide.” The head looks us over again. “I am sorry to have to remind you of this. I am sure many of you exceptional Creations are aware of the restrictions. We are very proud to have amazing Creations such as yourselves fighting for our country. Thank you for your dedication and your understanding of the restrictions placed upon your kind to keep each of you safe.” The woman smiles happily, stretching her lips up to her cheekbones. “As you were. Please excuse the interruption.” The screen flickers before turning back into the windowed wall.

  “Blood over love!” A group of girls sing, laughing.

  “Hey Collins,” Sean laughs. “I guess that means you need to stop dunking.”

  She jumps up and punches him in his chest.


  I can only imagine what dunking is, and I don’t ask. “What do you think they’ll do to us if they find out? Lock us away in a dungeon?” I ask Fein and Sean.

  “They bring us to a secluded area with the opposite sex and expect for us not to be attracted to them.” Sean moves from the bench to sit on the table. “If that was really the way they wanted it, they should have created us without hormones and the things that attract us to each other,” he complains.

  “They could only do so much. It’s how they made us,” Fein adds. “They put these things on our hands.” She raises her left hand, looking at her embellishment.

  Sean and I look at ours. “If they could strip us of fear and guilt, they should have been able to strip us of attractions and affections,” he says, pulling my hand next to his. He looks back and forth between them.

  “Then why do you think they didn’t?” I ask, snatching my hand from him when he sniffs my palm. I shove him away from me with my forearm. “If we are only supposed to be here for our twins, why wouldn’t they strip us of all feelings, saving our need to have our twin?”

  “I think,” Cecilia starts, “they need us to also care about our twin in order for us to want to keep them first. So without that feeling, we would be selfish and only care about ourselves. We have to love our twins, you know? They couldn’t strip us of all our feelings. It would be inhuman.”

  “Are you human?” Fein asks.

  “I am a Creation,” Sean proclaims. “I am more than human, and I keep my brother at my right hand and my gun in my left. And we are better than all of you puny affection-possessing humans.”

  Gia comes behind him and yanks him off the table. “No, you’re not!”

  He hits the floor, taking her with him.

  We laugh, watching them scrap. Gia tries to get up, and Sean keeps her pinned down. Watching Sean is always entertaining. Danielle, Marshal, Cory, Fein, Gia, and I sit around a table in the rec hall chatting as we try to stay cool. Danielle and Gia have been in Separation for two years, and like all Creations, they look comfortable with their position. They take orders and do as they’re told, only breaking their character when in the confines of the rec hall around other Creations. We know our secrets, we know we’re not mindless or affectionless robots, we know we have these flaws. But we know the Guidance doesn’t want to know that because to them it means we are defective. It could mean, just maybe, they made us wrong.