Ominous Order: A Young Adult Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Series (The Separation Trilogy Book 3)

by Felisha Antonette

  I open my eyes and look the crowd over. The girl who was in the video stands near Seits. She’s a few inches shorter than me. I shift to the others looking upon us with shock in their wide eyes, jaws dropped. Their expressions go ignored. A couple of them, though, are relaxed, familiar with the embrace.

  “Gia!” I say, joy heightening my tone.

  She slings her rifle from her hand to her back and crosses the ground to me. We greet with a handshake, though I can see in her eyes that a hug would enhance her relief. “They told us you were all dead. And for a while, it felt like something was missing with you all gone. Zombies thrashed through the base, and we were scooped up and shipped here. A lot of us didn’t make it.”

  “Supposedly,” Marshal approaches with a smile. We bump fists. “We were about to walk into a massacre, and Marc steered us away.”

  The girl from the video comes over and steps in front of me. Her blonde hair sweeps her shoulders, and she looks up at me with furrowed brows and a curled lip.

  I shuffle out of Marc’s arm. “Excuse me,” I say to the girl. “Do we have a problem?”

  She flicks her gaze to Marc and back. “Marc has endured a lot trying to find you. You must be Kylie,” she says with an edge of repulsion.

  “And?” I cross my arms, waiting for the chance to throw a punch in her face.

  “You better not be a manipulative Creation implant, here to kill or capture Creations, or you will have to answer to me.” She jabs her index finger against my shoulder, shoving me back. “You hear me, girl?”

  My right shoulder pushes back against the pressure of her contact, but I stand my ground, trigger finger twitching. The seriousness in her twisted lips and tipped chin isn’t as intimidating as she may expect. I bark a laugh and hold myself back from slapping her in the face and shoving her away from me. I look at Marc, smirking. “You’re out here making friends?”

  He shrugs. “I have that effect on people.”

  I shake my head, holding his gaze. “You do not, Marc. Not even close.” I scan the empty streets. There’s no telling how long they will stay this way. “Let’s get off these streets. Your brother will be happy to see you. And General Jord will be happy to see all of you alive,” I say to Gia and Marshal. The group splits and out walk Jesail and Amber.

  I bounce on my toes once and quickly cross the ground to meet them. I throw an arm around each of their necks and reel them near me as they wrap their arms around my middle. “Thank you,” they say together. “For the training,” Jesail follows. “We wouldn’t have made it out of there without it.”

  My cheeks hurt from the smile stretching my face. I pull away from them, saying, “I’m happy to see both of you.” I pat their shoulders once. “Good job, girls.”

  I lead our group down the street to the stairs I climbed to make it above ground. Seits is at my side as we clear the stairs and march through the sewers toward the underground bunker where Jord and Sean are waiting their arrival. She bumps my shoulder with her fist. I meet her peaceful gaze as she says, “We thought you were a goner. There are all types of stories about how they’re racking up Creations like test subjects. When you stayed, I started thinking they had you brainwashed.”

  My hand is clutched in Marc’s, an action he initiated like a magnet when we started our march. I’d usually be uncomfortable about public affection, but I’m unaffected. And for some reason, it relieves me that I don’t care. My breaths are freer, seeming to enter in and out of my lungs so effortlessly they, too, are alleviating.

  I admit my intentions to Seits, saying, “I was privy to information about the Vojin and the Guidance, and I needed to figure out what was going on. I also needed to do this independently, seeing as I’d lost my twin. I needed to prove to myself that I would be fine without him, and I realize now that I will be.”

  Seits pats my back twice. “Good for you, Ky. Know, though, you never have to go at it alone. We’re all here for each other.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  We make it to the stairs, a group of twenty-two Creations, hastily making it through the sewer entry that leads to the tunnels that takes us to a well-established bunker. There are two parts: the first is the primary living area, it seems, and beyond it is for aid.

  Sean and Jord are waiting in the living area, sitting around with local Creations. Sean jumps to his feet when we enter, and I let Marc go so he can meet his brother. Jord and Seits also share a greeting with a handshake that turns into a hug. Their reunions with their twins are both pleasing and disheartening. But I stuff the negative thoughts in a deep place. Now is not the time to give those remorseful feelings access. I know I can’t stuff them down forever, but I’ll give the sorrow attention at a later time.

  Now, we have work to do.

  I cross the room to counter near the far end of the bunker. I climb on top of it and whistle to grab everyone’s attention. “I’m Kylie Alexander, Creation number two-six-seven, Arizona, Separation Base One. I know I look silly with these flimsy shorts,” I pull at the torn hem and let it go, “and this battered tank.”

  “I was going to asking you about your new look, Ky,” Sean interrupts me to say. “But I was waiting on the right time. I don’t like it,” he adds, turning down the corners of his mouth.

  “Hush, Sean.” I grumble. My hair is all over the place, sticking to my lips, heavy on my shoulders. I rake my hands through it from my forehead to my neck to pull it out of my face. As I do, I glimpse the dirt, bruises, and scars on my arms, but know they dress my entire body. “I know I look like I’ve already gone to war, but don’t be intimidate or judge me by my appearance.” I find solace in the smiling faces of those who look up at me. “These are crazy times. For us,” I gesture to those of us who are from Arizona. “Our lives have been turned upside down. Our base is getting raided without reason; our travel is being interceded and shot down, and we didn’t know why. For you all,” I look over the Creations accustomed to living in the bunker. “You’ve been dealing with this for some time. It’s catastrophic to live with the cloud of death swirling over your head. And I understand we’ve played a part in your fear, why you live this way, why your freedom seems in the past. But it’s time we turn the tables. We all have something in common, and it’s not that we’re all Creations, but that we’re all targets. Let’s change this.”

  I’ve grabbed everyone’s attention. Nearly a hundred bodies stretch from where I stand to the rear of the bunker. They’ve crowded around the counter, and many have poured into the living bunker from the aid area. The many eyes looking up at me with interest and calm encourage me to keep going.

  “The Guidance have already begun their battle against the subject,” I spit the word with disgust for their inept ability to see us as less than human, “they want to wipe out. Well,” I throw out my arms and let them fall. “It’s time we start ours. We’ll need more of us.” I pause. Raising my voice, I shout encouragingly, “We’re going to wreak havoc on Highrum. We’ll show everyone that we are not monsters. We are not test subjects or experiments. We are not only mindless emotionless bodies. But that,” I say low, “we’re people.”

  Marc, Sean, Jord, and Seits step in front of the counter, facing the crowd. “If you’re with us,” Jord says in a deep voice accommodating his authoritative tone, “disperse and acquire as many Creations as you can. We’ll round back up in the sunlight, in the square, hundreds of Creations, ready to go to war against the Guidance and whatever else tries to get us. Should you encounter Zombies, the only way to stop them is by putting a bullet through their skull or chopping off their heads.”

  “Do what you can, and we will meet up in twenty minutes,” I say when he finishes.

  We take a knee in front of Jord as he stands before us Creations from Desert Hills. A few locals are here: Gwendoline, Napoleon, and the brave Ellie, who won’t leave Marc’s side. It’s adorable, her mocking every move he makes. They have an arrangement: he’ll help her make it into the Guidance building, and maybe she wants t
o make sure he keeps his promise.

  Jord rubs his hand over his bald head, mutters under his breath, then says aloud, “I can’t believe this is even going on. We’re actually contemplating taking down the Guidance.”

  I raise my hand and say, “I doubt it’s every member of the Guidance, sir. Arletta mainly.”

  Jord shakes his head and drops his hands on his hips. “Arletta is the face of the Guidance, the smile. The order has to be coming from Richard. Not even the Premier’s order can make it over his big mouth.” He looks at me. “How long where you on the inside. What’d you see?”

  “Things went haywire from day one, sir. I briefly spoke with Arletta, and she mentioned she was making a new Creation. The last time we were here, Carden showed me these babies. They had colorful hands.”

  Marc cuts in and says, “The children helping kill Creations had colorful hands. They also have some exclusive self-rejuvenation powers.”

  I nod. “Well, this girl called Carla, she risked her life to help me get out of there. A Creation shot her dead for doing so. She’s been privy to their new design of Creations, and she said they want to mix multiple genes to make these new Creations. Creation, Vojin, and another alien species.”

  I reserve what that species is for my safety, but someone blurts it out from the back of our crowd. “It’s Itteix. They are supposed to be a pretty nifty alien.” I turn and look at Ellie, standing next to Marc, always somewhere posted against a wall instead of among the crowd. She says, “They’re exactly what the Guidance needs to curate what would be the perfect Creation in their eyes. They’ll use them to help influence, rather than intimidate, the citizens. The Vojin aliens think humankind is to blame for the destruction of the world. The irony of them employing Zombies on the planet and the scientists calling it a virus is that they made humans the virus that’s destroying Earth.”

  Shock lifts Jord’s eyebrows as he rubs his hand over his gaping mouth. He manages to ask, “How do you know that?”

  Ellie says, “I used to guard for the Guidance. Carla and I were together most days. I was indoors during an exchange with the Vojin aliens, Richard, and Arletta.” She shrugs and rolls her eyes as if her answer should have been obvious to us.

  Ellie’s voice is perky and high. Every word out of her mouth is matter-of-fact, and I expect her to roll her neck and jab her fists on her hips, but she doesn’t. It’s all in her eyes, no reactive body language to support her annoying twang. With the exception of when she shoved my shoulder.

  A hush falls over the bunker, and the silence builds tension. I sense it has something to do with the mention of this new species. The one Jord, based on previous conversations, seemed to already have knowledge of. His eyes meet mine, and he stares long and hard. His bore is so intense I can’t break away from it. In his eyes, the furrow of his brows, and twist of his lips, I can literally see the wheels turning. Then he gets it.

  Jord charges over and snatches me from the ground by the shoulder strap of my vest. I stumble to my feet and struggle to stay upright as he practically drags me from the living area to the aid bunker. He shoves me in and turns to close the door but is stopped by Marc keeping it open. He barges in, hot on Jord’s heels with Sean right behind him. Seits isn’t far behind, and I realize that in some way we have formed a kind of family. Where one goes, the rest follow. I know what struck Jord. And though we’ve all grown closer because of the events that’ve bombarded us over the past few days, everyone won’t know.

  Jord fights with everyone, telling them to get out though they don’t budge. He whips around. “I know,” Jord says to me.

  I cross my arms and nod. “I realize that.” Everyone’s eyes are pinned on me, but I risk the slightest shake to my head to tell him not to mention what he thinks in front of everyone.

  Jord sighs heavily, and his swelled frame sinks a couple of inches. He throws up his right hand, and he looks away from me, saying, “Fine.”

  I lick my lips and look at the ground, dragging the toe of my boot over the smooth concrete. When I look back up, I meet Marc’s eyes. “Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”

  The aid bunker isn’t empty. Doctors silently attend to their patients, unfazed by our ruckus.

  Marc nods for me to follow him, and he heads out of the aid area to the living space. I pass Jord, avoiding his glare as I leave to the tunnel.

  As I come up behind Marc, he’s asking Gwendoline, “Is there a room I can borrow back there?” he gestures to a dark tunnel with a curtain hung in front of it.

  Gwendoline, points her finger, saying, “Third door on the right. It’s open.”

  Marc waves for me to follow, and I stay a foot or two behind him as I do. A heavy weight falls on my chest as I drag my feet. Marc’s patient. He holds open the curtain, waiting for me to meet him. Once past, I walk into the dark hall, make it to the third door on the right, and push the steel door open. He closes it behind us, and the room is even darker than the hall.

  Marc causes ruckus, items clatter about as he searches around for a light so we can see.

  “Can you stop and listen to me for a second?”

  There’s a couple of steps, and then I can make out his eyes in the dark. He nears me. “What’s up?”

  “Um.” I take a single step away from him. “I…”

  “What’s going on, Ky?” he says in a kind tone that softens his rasp. “You can tell me anything.”

  I rub the back of my neck and grumble. “I’ve. Um…come to the conclusion Arletta wanted me to join them so she can use me. Maybe help her make those new Creations. I’m Itteix.” I step away from him and try to yield the light I did with Danny, but I only flicker. In the sudden flashes of light, I see Marc’s calm expression that I expected to be shocked. “I’m just now learning about this, and I can’t really do it yet.” I turn my back to him. It’s probably not working because he’s watching me. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to think over everything I did earlier. With the boost of energy Danny gave, I thought this would be easier than the first try.

  I tap my toe as I wait for the pressure to build and the light to explode from my body. Beyond my lids, a light beams, coloring my lids red. Excitedly, I shoot open my eyes and look over my hands, but I’m not illuminated.

  I turn around, facing a perfectly illuminated silhouette with Marc’s frame. “Like this?” Marc’s voice, smooth with no rasp, echoes through my ears like Danny’s did. “I’ve known from the night your chest was glowing.” He’s so bright, I can’t see his features, I only see his height and broad shoulders, and hear his voice.

  My eyes have a hard time adjusting, and I have to hold my hand in front of them. “Th- Th… This,” I stutter, “This entire time, you’ve had alien mojo?” I whisper. My heart pounds, and my eyes water as I stare at the figure before me.

  Marc fades out, for a brief second going transparent before he fades into full Creation form. “Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry we’ve had so many secrets.”

  I cross the floor of the small room and throw my arms around his shoulders. “I’m not alone.”

  His arms wrap around my middle. “Of course not.”

  It’s not that I need to have someone around or that I desire to have someone at my side. Granted, I miss my brother. I miss him always being around, him being there for me when I needed him and when I didn’t. We, Creations, are co-dependent on our twins. And being alone sucks. The idea is dreadful. But having someone I have something in common with, who can understand, means a lot to me. Shaking my head, I back away from him, looking him over. “How?”

  “My mom was the only and last senior of the original fallen Itteix Sean and I knew. They’ve been hunting Itteix down since they lost the battle against the Vojin and fell to the earth. That’s why I doubt she’s still alive because they’ve captured her and killed her. My dad, he died in a fight against some Vojin who were disguised as Waulers. We were all in the fight, actually, trying to protect each other when Sean and I were eight. They trie
d to kidnap Sean and me and insert these disgusting green glowing entities into our necks. They had long, flowing legs and moved like worms. So actually, the scars on my back came from that battle as did this rasp I can’t clear from my voice.” He clears his throat, and when he speaks again, it’s still there. “Sean and I do our absolute best so we stay off their radars and continue to have the protection from the Trade.”

  The similarities of the way his father died and how my parents were also killed by Vojin disguised as Waulers is eye-opening. I back away from him. My voice squeaks as I say, “The Trade,” with a jerk to my neck and widening eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Yeah,” he says in an obvious tone. “The Trade protects the Itteix. Those they know about. It’s why you’ll find a lot of Itteix born as Creations. The Trade makes sure of it, so we have the resources to learn this country, get trained on how to defend ourselves, and build bonds. We’re a species that thrives off togetherness and bonds with others. What greater unity than Creations, Separation, a twin.”

  My legs weaken, and I collapse, elbow smacking something hard before I fall to the ground.

  “Whoa, Ky.” Marc catches me and helps me to the floor as he sits beside me. “We don’t have room for sea legs aboard this trip.”

  “But. I. My…” I stammer over my words as it all slowly starts coming together.

  “Take it easy.”

  “My mom and dad were murdered by the Waulers. That’s what the Guidance said when they had our aunt put in as our placement guardian. The Vojin totally did it. Luke and I not growing up with the right parents has made us miss out on so much information.” I rip the letter from my bra, the only place I was able to keep it secret in this outfit. I couldn’t leave it in my suit because I didn’t want anyone stumbling upon it. I unfold the letter and try again to make myself light up, but I can’t get it. “Can you help me out? But not so bright.”

  Marc snaps his finger, and his hand dimly glows, providing enough light for me to show him the letter.