“No. No,” she says waving her hand. “It’s my pleasure.” She scurries down the hall to the stairwell. I wanted her to hurry, but she could’ve taken the elevator.
I disassemble and reassemble my weapons, aggravated by the glittering residue of the fallen Vojin we took out. I drag my scarf over the metal, and the shit won’t scrape off. I’ll probably need a toothbrush and alcohol. Giving up, I put them away and slump against the wall.
The generals should have some information soon. We need to get back to base and gather as many reliable troops as possible to prepare for this alien storm coming. There are so many traitors in our camp. No one is sure whose side is the right one.
The days before we left for our raid on the Vojin plays over and over in my mind. Maybe it wasn’t the best decision. But it’s the only one I saw working.
A couple of days before we left, Collins asked if I would fight with her against the invaders, the Vojin. She said there had been discussion about a selected few going against them on their turf, and she wanted to know if I would help. Just the night before we left, Kylie and I shared a night that is worth reliving every time I close my eyes. She asked for me to fight with them too, to which I agreed. Not because I needed convincing, but in her eyes, I read she desperately wanted me in. Collins, however, I ignored. There was always something she wanted or needed, and my response was always the same. “Enough, Collins. Fuck off.” She didn’t take me seriously.
A few nights before, Collins and I were out of sight, just beyond the homes of the leaders, a yard from the vegetable gardens. I was heading back for our house when a coyote trotted up to us. Coyotes in the desert are common, but after seeing one appear when Luke called to the Vojin with the glittery mist he blew toward the sky, I’ve begun to suspect every one of those animals are under the aliens’ guide. Thinking back to that night, I remember that Luke incriminated himself for Sean and I in that moment. I never got to repay him for that.
The coyote yapped once and regurgitated a golf ball sized glass sphere. It was dimly illuminated, and inside it, churned blue and green in clockwise swirls. The coyote looked at Collins and me, yapped again, and nodded toward the ball.
Collins and I swapped a glance, unmoved.
The ball spoke. A gentle, echoic, feminine voice said, “If you want to save your planet, you must agree to an alliance with us, going against your fellow Creations who intend to attack our dominion. Should you decide otherwise, the lives of your twins are on the line.”
Again, unmoved, Collins and I swapped a glance. I nodded for us to leave and Collins followed me. We pivoted but beyond the coyote we saw two Zombies charging toward us. Sean’s unconscious body was being dragged by one, and Cecilia was being dragged by the other. Both were bitten on the cheek and changing. The walking dead threw our twins to the ground and stood over their seizing bodies, watching them transform.
Flashbacks hit me, knowing only the Vojin could help.
The ball glowed maroon, and the gentle voice turned hostile. “Side with us or lose them.”
The ball burst and evaporated into the air as the walking dead straightened, looking more human than monster. “Collins,” the one said, standing over Cecilia, “Your twin or your death?”
“You know the outcome here, Marcain,” the one near Sean said.
The longer we waited, the worse they became, turning into the walking dead before our eyes. Collins lurched at them, unable to take the sight of her sister snapping and growling at her. I held her back. Those gangling aliens may appear scrawny, but they’re strong as hell and pack a punch.
We nodded, having no other option than giving the “yes” we regretted. Our twins’ lives were on the line.
“Very well,” the host said, nodding slowly as it stood over Sean. The two reached down to our twins and worked their magic to remove the infection. Sean and Cecilia rose as the Vojin departed.
On his feet, Sean threw a punch against the air and kicked the dirt. I could read his mind. Dammit! Not again! And I felt the same way.
Collins and Cecilia quickly left us, and we were right behind them, but another line of pink mist zipped through the desert, heading our direction.
“We could make a run for it,” I told Sean.
“And if it follows us? We’d be accused of being traitors, and we’re probably the most normal Creations here.”
The time to think was over. Before us stood a pink alien with a feminine frame. She tried to convince us to side with her over the two who had just threatened to kill us. That Kylie and Luke would need us because these Volones, monarchs of their species, had known about the invasion and planned to kill them. She said it would take a fake alliance in order to save them. We owed Luke and Ky that at the least. The Vojin didn’t request our agreement, seeming to already know we’d agree. And before we could respond, she dispersed into the pink mist and zipped away.
Sean and I got caught up in one scheme after another: the generals’ raid, the evil Vojin request for an alliance, and the pink Vojin wanting us to back up Luke and Kylie. It was a lot to keep up with, but the one thing we knew for sure was we wanted to keep our friends safe. We were all supposed to make it out of there alive. I hate that we didn’t, and even more I hate the fact that Kylie is the one suffering from it all.
I tap my toe and beat my thumbs against my helmet to get a tune to pass the time. My stomach rumbles, and I slump forward, growing bored.
“Excuse me.” Corbin or whatever his name is pulls me from my thoughts. He skips down the hall, arms gleefully swinging at his sides. “Marc the Creation, you are not at attention. You are slacking in your duties as a Creation, and this behavior is unacceptable,” he says, aggressively sweeping his arm in front of himself. His brows draw inward, but his smile stays put.
Looking at the cream-colored carpet, I shake my head. If I were to kick this guy’s ass here in this hallway, they’d put Sean and me on the chopping block. “I am doing my job. I’m not one of these punk Creations you all have strolling the streets and cleaning windows here in Highrum. Get off my back.”
“I am very familiar with who you are, Marcain Creation two-eight-four-seven-nine, brother of Seanabe. The second strongest young male Creation in second generation Creations. There is a total of six of you high-performing Creations. Two who were once in Chicago, you and Sean, Kylie and Luke in Desert Hills. Now it’s the three of you registered there. And Aaron and Costello in New York. It is very interesting how Creations can all be made the same, and yet, one set can exceed another.” He lifts his wide-eyed gaze to the ceiling. “Maybe there is more human in Creations than we desired.”
“Look, Christian, I’m not in the mood to talk. Excuse me, and finish your stroll.” My ass has to stay glued to this spot, though I’d prefer to slam Crockett into the floor, choke him until he passes out, and jet down the hall to avoid being prosecuted for attacking a future Guidance member.
He chortles. “Marcain the Creation, I have arrived at my destination. The stroll is completed.” He laughs harder, slapping his knee. “Creations’ cluelessness is quite amusing. You all have a sense of humor, I see. I didn’t know you all could be so much fun.” He sighs loudly, laughter settling. “My name’s not Christian, it’s Carden.” Wiping his eye, he continues, “I’ve come to talk to Kylie the Creation. I’m interested in convincing her to move here with us. Release her of her role as Creation to be Guidance leader at my side.”
I scoff. “She can’t do that.”
His brows furrow, “I beg your pardon, Marcain the Creation. Once I am leader, I am changing the rules.” He nods once. “Because my mother likes Kylie, she is our first test subject. She,” his voice rises an octave as he sings, “gets a free pass.” He takes a step forward to knock on the door.
“Take a walk, guy,” I tell him. He better not make me stand up.
“I’ve done that.” He stares down the hall, smiling at his accomplishment. “It was utterly refreshing. Now, I will talk to Kylie the Creation.” He thinks for tw
o seconds and adds, “She is a nice girl. If she stays, she could be my consort. I will make her happy, and she will look beautiful on my arm.”
His consort…Wife? I stand and look him head on. “Your wife? You want to force Kylie to be your wife and wear her like a purse?”
He folds his hand in front of his hips. “Well, if you choose that word,” he spits, “wife,” as though it leaves a sour taste in his mouth. “I do not choose to use such a word. It’s degrading.”
My neck practically breaks from how hard it jerks at his statement. I press my lips into a thin line to keep my words restrained and grit my teeth to manage my frustration.
“Kylie and I will be companions, brightly displayed for the America to see. A Creation and a Guidance leader together will reflect equality, proof our country is growing in the right direction. It will boost the morale of lacking Creations, and the humans who have been swaying and causing trouble will see her here and look toward the Guidance because they’ll believe if we can put a Creation in a place of power, we must love every citizen of the America. Kylie will be able to leave her life as a Creation and start a new one. I believe since her twin is dead now,” he says lightheartedly, accommodating the statement with an indifferent shrug, “this would be an ideal change for her. She’s a special one we’re interested in unpacking.”
“His name was Luke. And you’ll give him your respect by speaking his name. He wasn’t just ‘Kylie’s twin who’s dead now’. He was a damn good solider and my friend.” I press my fist to my palm and crack my knuckles. “And Kylie’s not some political trophy you can pick up and put down as you please. You want her to leave everything to come live here with you for your gain. Not hers.”
“She will love it here, Marcain the Creation.” He reaches again to knock.
I step in his way, refusing to allow him to lay a knuckle on this door. I doubt Kylie will answer, but I don’t want her to talk to him, not even to tell him fuck off. This goofball will not try to smile his way into convincing her to be a pawn on his chessboard. She’d probably say yes just to get back at me, and I don’t want her to move here for any reason. I want to keep Ky bottled up, for myself only. I’d keep her in my pocket, hiding her from everyone, and in secret, I’d take her out and have her to myself. The rest of the world is lucky they even get to lay their eyes on her. “You can talk to her later, Christoph. She’s on lockdown right now, an order by General Jord. No one goes in, and no one comes out.”
“Oh,” he chirps, hand flying over his mouth. “She must have done something bad. What happened?”
I groan, pushing my hand through my hair. “I’m not at liberty to discuss that with you.”
“I understand, Marcain the Creation.” He props his hands on his hips and lifts on to his tiptoes as he looks over my shoulder as if the door opened. “When she is free, have her look me up please. I have a lot I must discuss with her prior to your departure.” He smiles and nods, turning away. “And by the way. My name is Carden,” he informs me and trots down the hall.
He’s entering the elevator as the housekeeper I sent on a run exits. One foot in front of the other, she walks steadily down the hall, carefully juggling my items.
With a cheerful smile that brightens her brown eyes, she says, “Here you go.”
Taking the glass and bags, I whisper, “Thank you,” before she grabs her buggy and continues down the hall. The vanilla shake is filled to the rim with whipped cream and two cherries. I set the bags to the floor and knock on the door. “Kylie, if you don’t open the door, this shake is going to turn into vanilla milk with floating cherries.”
A second passes, and she cracks open the door. She sticks out her hand.
“You are displaying your immaturity greatly today, Ky.”
“Stop talking and put the shake in my hand.” Her fingers spread and her hand stretches.
I kiss the tip of her middle finger, then her index finger, and let another kiss rest against her ring finger before placing the chilled glass to her palm.
I wait for the door to open.
I’m using Ky’s irresistible attraction towards me to gain her forgiveness. I don’t have moves or a plan. The majority of the time, I have no idea what I’m doing with her. It all just works. Everything just happens, and it feels good. It puts a smile on my face and settles her nightmares. It all makes sense while not making sense. And I’m finally okay with that, and I don’t want to lose it.
I prop my forearm against the wall to lean in and whisper, “I’m here for you, Kylie.”
The door pulls open. She looks at me, eyes red and puffy. Her nose is raw and her bottom lip trembles.
I sigh, hating that I’m unable to hug away her misery. “Here.” I grab the bag from the floor and hand it to her. “Shower and change. Let me in whenever you’re ready.”
She turns and walks away, leaving the door open.
Damn. It worked! I step in and nudge the door closed with my elbow.
“I don’t want to look at you.”
“Then don’t,” I say to her back.
She grumbles, crossing her arms. She faces a window where I’m able to see her face through the reflection. “You have other responsibilities. You mentioned before you have a purpose here, and that’s not me. Remember that and stop.”
Nodding, I hold my spot near the door, resisting the urge to cross the room to her. “I did. I also hated you for a while. But that’s all changed. The reason I was created is very important to me. My purpose is the most important part of who I am, and it’s why I fight so hard to stay alive every day. And that purpose…is you.”
Her shoulders slacken. She turns around, and moves in my direction. For a minute, I get my hopes up, but she grabs the bag from my hand and heads left into the bathroom and shuts the door.
Chapter Ten
*Marc*
“You can grab a shower, Marc.” The first words Kylie has said in over an hour. “I assume that’s what you want to do, considering the male clothes in the bag.” She’s consumed the shake and ate both cherries without offering me a sip. She exits the bathroom in a towel, with another wrapped around her hair. I look away from her. “I saved you some hot water.”
I peel myself from the leather chair where I’m sitting in the corner of the Inn’s room next to a brown desk. There’s a clear view of rooftops of other nearby buildings from the window that stretches the length of the wall. I pass Kylie, refraining from yanking her to me to bring her body close to mine. She feels it. I can tell from her inhale and the way she leans a little toward me on my passing. She exhales loudly after I’ve closed the door to the bathroom. I can’t separate it from disappointment or relief though.
I shower and dress quickly, opening the door as I pull on my shirt to release the steam. Kylie is standing in the doorway. She speaks as she looks at me through narrowed eyes, but I’m distracted by the water dripping off my hair and wetting my shirt. I hate the feeling. I thought I dried it.
Kylie taps my shoulder. “Are you leaving?”
“You want me to?” I ask, searching the floor for the towel I used.
“I want you to die.”
“Look, Ky,” I grab a new towel from the shelf. “I’ll let you get one hit in.” Squeezing the water from my hair, I look her over, liking the blue jeans and purple shirt I picked for her and how perfectly they hug her curves. She glowers at me and dammit if she isn’t the most gorgeous species I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I hold in my compliment. “One hit.” I toss the towel in the tub, where I realize I left the other. “Then you’ll let me hug you, and I’ll keep my distance the rest of the time I’m with you.”
She shakes her head. “One hit isn’t enough.”
“Fine. Let me hug you. Then kill me.”
Her brows furrow, and she stands speechless.
I lean forward, grab her by her hips, and tug her to me. “Wrap your arms around me, Kylie Alexander.” I push my arms around her waist. Slowly, her arms curl around my back, and she exhales.
I release her and grab my gun from the counter. “Now,” I hand her the gun, “kill me. I’ll die for you if it’ll make you feel better.”
We stand in the doorway of the bathroom. Kylie takes the gun from me. She checks if the clip is loaded, and it is. Flicking her gaze to me and then away, she puts a bullet in the chamber. “Don’t speak,” she instructs.
“I won’t.”
“Shut up!”
“Shutting up.” I draw my lips in between my teeth.
“Now!”
My words drawl as I say, “You are dragging out my death, and I’d hope you’d have a little more respect for me.”
“You killed my brother. If I could torture you, I would.”
Shaking my head, I repeat for the millionth time. “I didn’t kill Luke. I didn’t even know that was going to happen. But if giving you my life will help you come to terms with losing him and possibly provide you with an ounce of relief, I’ll do that for you. Shoot me.”
“Your life won’t replace his.”
I know that but she’s the one hell-bent on killing everyone! I shrug. “I am ready when you are.”
She aims the barrel between my eyes. I could be wrong about her shooting me. She’s already done so once. Crazy girl shot me in my damn neck. Her finger twitches as it moves to the trigger.
Someone bangs on the door. “Marc,” calls Sean.
A smile twitches Kylie’s cheek. Her brows rise as though an idea occurs to her.
“Don’t do it,” I warn in a low voice.
In a swift movement, she backs into the hall, pulls the room’s door open and fires off two shots.
I race from the bathroom, shoving Kylie from the path to make it to my brother.
Chapter Eleven
“This is getting old, Kylie! There are innocent people milling around this building! What if you hit one of them?” Marc shouts, trying to snatch the gun from me. I hold it out of his reach. “You’ve lost your mind!”
Ominous Order: A Young Adult Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Series (The Separation Trilogy Book 3) Page 7