“Great.” Sean claps once. “Mission one, completed.”
I raise my hand. “Can I start by asking for a shower and some real clothes?”
“Of course. Each of you can help yourselves to the amenities here. I will have the receptionist make sure you get some comfortable clothes.”
I slouch into the chair, sighing with relief.
“So,” Grandin carries on, propping his clasped hands on the table. I continue to avoid looking him in the face as to not be disrespectful. “Kylie, I’m inclined to believe you may feel at a disadvantage, discovering your origin so late in life and at such a trying time. On behalf of the entire Trade council, I sincerely apologize for the loss of your parents and your twin. In every war, there are, unfortunately, casualties, and some hit closer to home than others. We,” he again presses his five fingers of his left hand to his chest, “have lost many in our attempt to expose the Guidance, specifically, Richard and his partner, Arletta. Everyone has been murdered with their deaths covered by the flaws of the country.”
I lift my gaze from his hands to the T stitched onto the chest pocket of his shirt. Neither his condolences, nor his comparison draws a response from me. All I want is for them to be straight with me. Give me my mission, let me choose my weapons, and watch me work.
Grandin leans forward, propping his elbows on the table. Marc and Sean sit back on their chairs, looking in Grandin’s direction, but also not looking in his face. Lovett, the virtuous woman I’m discovering she is, stares Grandin in the eyes. She sits on the chair, legs crossed, bare foot tapping the air, nails rapping against the marble top of the table. Her lips are pursed. She’s also unmoved.
“There are a few of you the Guidance had their eye on.” Grandin starts slowly, tone on edge as if the information is classified, and he’ll reap some consequences by telling us. We each lean in, noticing his discomfort, though interested in what he is about to reveal. “You and Luke were to be made into ultimate weapons, so once of age you could breed more weapons. The Guidance have known you were Itteix from the day your parents were murdered. They’ve known you all were, even when your husband was murdered, Lovett.”
“And it was your job to protect us,” Lovett says, slamming her hand on the table. Her gesture, though aggressive, doesn’t result in a slapping sound against the marble, but a pat. As though she were purposefully trying to lighten her anger.
“Itteix are extremely important to us. During the destruction, when the alien invaders disrupted our planet, it was the Itteix that tried to save us from the Vojin’s attack.” I sneak a peek and see his downcast gaze and tightly drawn eyebrows match his distressed tone. “The Vojin convinced us it was the other way around, and unfortunately, our defensive efforts were used against the Itteix, helping the Vojin win.”
Grandin presses a button on a remote, and in the middle of the table, a small black semi-circular object projects upward, showing what I suspect to be a time in the past when illuminated spheres fell from the sky, burning and exploding in the sky like fireworks. Their residue hits the ground and contributes to the eruption of the land like catastrophic bombs. The video fast forwards to a few humans shaking hands with a Volones and two blueish-green Vojin. They sign a paper. “We agreed to letting the Vojin help protect the Earth because they had us convinced this was their desire, protecting our little planet from other extraterrestrial life that intends to harm it. We signed the treaty. Vojin didn’t get free reign on Earth, but we appreciated the help from outside our atmosphere.”
Lovett sits forward and says, “And the plan went to shit, kids. The Vojin was the real enemy, and they,” she throws a point at Grandin, “found it out fairly quickly.”
Grandin opens his hands and rests them on the table. They splay as he says, “We intercept every communication that’s passed from space to Earth and from country to country. One was peculiar; it was forwarded to Richard a decade ago from the Vojin reading, verbatim, ‘As you have now been voted in as Leader of the Guidance, you are in a position of power. Repay the Vojin the debt you owe, or they will take it.’ There was no response to our knowledge, until five weeks later, when Arletta responded how they would work something out. So we needed eyes on the inside, which is how we had so many people dedicated to work with and for us to protect our country from people who want to harm it.”
I clear my throat and sit up straight in my chair. “The Vojin discovered the advantage of having Creations on their side; you all discovered the advantage of having the Itteix on your side, likely once you all made amends, and then the Guidance discovered the advantage of fooling everyone into making their perfect being. A mixed Vojin Creation, courtesy of the Vojin implants in Creations, with the heart of an Itteix, courtesy of the Trade covering up Itteix in Creation breeders and their own sick desire to experiment with genetically altered humans. All for one to understand the depth of emotions, have the guts to battle, and easily latch a host for controlling purposes.” Nodding, I say, “I get it,” and shrug, because it ultimately means nothing at this point in the game. It’s too late to stop them. “How do we fix it?”
Marc and Sean scoot closer to the table and lean forward as the projector flicks off. Sean says, “The Vojin got the jump on us the last time we took them on. Before we even had the plan together, they had us by the balls.” He gestures between Marc and him and says, “And we still ended up getting played. The guns and bullets did some damage, but we were outnumbered. Aliens, Zombies, Creations…” Sean angrily blows his breath past his lips, making them rumble as he throws himself back against the chair.
Grandin sighs heavily through his nose, holding the stress of the situation in his pinched lips. “Since the first destruction, The Vojin have been plotting how to finish the job, and in time, they figured out the perfect combination.” With his hand pointing straight forward, he taps the side of the table, saying, “Zombies make the inhabitants that the Vojin believe to be a murdering virus of our planet an actual virus to each other. Then,” he moves his hand over and taps the table again, as if spacing out their plan. “Using your connections, you take out your enemies’ defense, our army of Creations. The Vojin convinced Richard to eliminate Creations by making them believe many of their Creations were Vojin-implanted hosts. This makes Creations seem vulnerable, a risk to us. A failure. Now, lastly.” This time, his hand shifts outward another three inches, but it doesn’t tap the table, as if the final part of the plan is incomplete. Looking at the table, his brows furrow, and his voice trembles as he says, “Invade.”
Lovett, speaking in a grim tone with a line etched between her brows and hands balled in tight fists says, “All of them at once will fill the sky and descend on us like prey. We won’t be fast enough; we couldn’t become fast enough to stop them. With few Creations, we won’t have the manpower to fight them.” I expect her words to sound worried, but there’s anger in her eyes, a desire to fight. But there’s no way she can battle, not in her current state of weakness, though she hides her discomfort very well.
We look to Grandin for answers, discarding our instinct to show respect by avoiding his gaze. The corners of his eyes wrinkles as he squints. I wonder about the information he has hoarded in his mind. If the Vojin and Itteix aren’t the only extraterrestrial beings that are out there. If the America has some secret weapon tucked up their sleeve that they can use against them. If they have some solid plan to terminate the Zombies and turn the country—the world—back to normal again. But Grandin’s face falls, muscles relaxing so every feature in his face frowns, and he looks at me. Dead in the eyes, he stares for what feels like a long time, and I realize he may actually have the answer. It just may be one I’m not ready to hear.
Grandin sighs heavily and says, “Our only option is to meet them in the sky. Set off an explosion big enough, directed at their mothership, take out enough of them so they flee. If we will have such an impact, they will never think to come to earth again.”
“What could create an explosion that big?” I ask
.
Everyone looks at me, as though the answer is obvious.
Marc says, “A star.”
“The light of the universe,” Sean follows.
An Itteix…
“And what about Arletta and Richard? They aren’t going to give up on making their perfect Creation. And I know for a fact they want me. I saw it in their eyes when they witnessed me take on a mob of Creations.”
Grandin gives me a smug smile. “Nobody has ever come across a Creation that has the DNA of a Vojin and the heart of an Itteix. You’re a rare breed, Kylie. Thanks to your mom for removing your implant. You’re their perfect combination. You can’t be made. Regardless of how many they try to create, the scientists will take years to come up with something even remotely similar. There is only one way for them not to get their hands on you…” his words trail off and stab me in my chest.
Death.
I turn my attention to Lovett, remembering how I overheard her say that I don’t know what I am. I swallow hard. My throat scratches from being so dry. The effects of fear. My hands shake, and my ears ring. I usually wouldn’t fear death. I often chase it. Loving the thrill and getting high off the risk of pushing death to its limits, I usually jump at the opportunity to take it on. But that’s when I know there’s a chance I’ll make it. Even just a one percent chance. But when the chance for survival is none, count me out. I want to live.
Chapter Thirty
Showered, dressed, and in dire need of fresh air, I sit on the ledge of the roof of the Trade headquarters. At the back of the building, there’s nothing but a straight drop to Earth.
I breathe in through my nose and release from my mouth, processing the information I’ve waited days to find out. I thought we could stop them by taking out the Guidance, but that would mean nothing if the Vojin have the numbers to back them up. If the Itteix are possibly the greatest threat to Vojin, and that pink Vojin knew I was Itteix, why didn’t she kill me, or try harder to convince me to side with her? If Arletta and Richard know I’m Itteix, why did they so easily let us leave?
Could they be planning something worse? And if so, what? What could be worse than Zombies? Forget about the alien invaders. Zombies stink; they’re hungry all the time; they’re contagious; they completely change the structure of the world. They were enough of an attack! It will take years, decades to come back from this.
In a matter of days, my life has changed so much, I struggle to keep track of where I was a week ago. A moment where I thought it was important that I was finally free, that I was finally accepting my emotions, something I’ve struggled with all my life.
And now, it doesn’t matter. The Trade wants me to sacrifice myself, not to save our planet, but to keep more like me from being created. To keep Richard and Arletta from accomplishing their weapon.
I must wait for my cue, because it would be useless for me to simply take a blade to my neck and get it over with. No. I must wait it out. When the Vojin attack, my death will kill two birds with one stone. Me and them.
“Argh,” I sigh, slumping forward, clutching the edge in my hands as I kick my heels against the side of the building.
“Hey,” Marc says from behind me.
I look over my shoulder and find myself smiling when our gazes meet.
“I was looking everywhere for you,” he says, crossing the roof to where I sit.
“You’ve been successful in finding me.” I nudge his shoulder with mine when he gets settled beside me.
Marc wraps his arm around my waist, and I scoot closer to lean my head against his shoulder. He doesn’t say anything else as we sit. The sun begins to slope through the sky, the large mass sinking beneath the clouds, changing the blue of the sky to the color of Marc’s eyes. We sit on the roof until sky goes dark. When the clouds part, we can make out the lights of the city beneath.
“I’ll take your spot,” Marc says. “Richard, Arletta, and whoever else knows about you who want to breed you will chase you down until they get their hands on you. And the Trade will have you hunted down until you no longer exist. You’ll have to run forever, but at least you’ll still be breathing.”
I huff and remain silent as I wrap my arms around his middle.
“Maybe we can find another one like you. Convince them to do it.”
“We don’t have that kind of time, and there’s no way to find them, Marc.” I get up from the edge, pulling him with me. “Let’s go before the stars come out.”
Marc glares at me as he rises. He grabs my hand, and when I pull him to walk with me, he doesn’t move. “You want me to say this is okay? That I’m okay with losing you? You want me to be okay with telling you goodbye? Because I’m not. I won’t,” he says, shaking his head, charging past me. He stops five feet from me and turns around. “I can’t.”
The wind whips through his dark hair and flaps his grey, long-sleeved t-shirt. His frequent blinks make the shine of his eyes flash, and every second they do, I think about seeing him as an Itteix and why he was just as gorgeous as he is in his more familiar form. Not that it matters at a time like this. I’ve just grown used to Marc, and my infatuation for him is out of this world. I don’t want ‘goodbye’ to be our last word either.
“What do you want me to say, Marc?”
He shrugs, throwing his hands up and shoving his fingers through his hair. “Nothing. I just don’t know what to say, Ky.” His shoulders lower, and he huffs long and heavy. “Any day now, right?” His brows rise as though he gets an idea.
I nod. “That’s what he said. We’re just waiting on their invasion.”
He marches over, grabs my hand, and yanks me with him as he charges for the exit from the roof. “We’ve got a lot to do in a little time.”
I jerk at his side, keeping up with his bouncing steps. “Like what?”
Marc rips the door open, and we hustle down the stairs. “Everything we never got the chance to do together, and everything we never will.”
Chuckling, he puts a pep in my step, and I hurry with him to wherever he’s leading us. We won’t cover everything; there’s so much of everything. But I’ll enjoy whatever’s left that we can do at the Trade’s headquarters.
Grandin departed to a meeting with the Trade council to discuss a plan for the betrayal of Arletta and Richard and what they will do about the Zombies. The problem is, they must still provide implicating proof of Arletta and Richard’s wrongdoing so the Guidance will revoke their membership and open the door for a prosecution. Grandin instructed us to not get involved because an assault against a leader of the government is an offense that renders the highest punishment.
Marc picks up the pace, and we jog through the main floor to a set of revolving doors that leads into the night. The moonlight glazes the patio where a table and chair set sit. On the table nearest the door, a game of checkers is set up. A few feet beyond the patio is a glistening pool, surface gently waving in the cool breeze.
“Sit,” Marc says pulling out a chair at the table with the checkers game. “A second date.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Why is a second date so important?” I ask as he sits.
“Because,” he shrugs. “It means I did something right the first time.”
I laugh. Taking a second to settle, as my laughter fades, I say, “You did do something right.”
“I know. Which is why we’re here.” He pushes the game to the middle of the table. “Red or black?”
“Red.”
He spins the game around so the red is in front of me. I look up from the game to meet his eyes and say, “I like checkers. I had never played a board game before or had the time to sit and chat with anyone other than Luke. I’m not happy with the way things turned out, and I want a different future. But I’m happy I met you.”
Marc puckers his lips, and if it isn’t the cutest thing I’ve ever seen him do. I jump across the table and kiss him, causing his chair to tip backward. We hit the concrete, laughing.
“Wow, Ky.” He chuckles, throwi
ng his hand to his chest.
“Sorry.” I jump to my feet and help him up from the ground. “You were really cute, and I wanted to absorb it.”
“Whelp,” he says, dusting off his jeans. “You did good.” Grabbing me by the front of my shirt, he tugs me to him and wraps his arms around my neck. I return his hug, laying my head against his shoulder. “You’re going to have to pick all those checker pieces off the ground.”
I breathe, melting in his arms as the contact lifts the pressure from the toughest moment in my life and relieves the stress. I never knew this feeling, or any other feelings I experienced with him existed. How am I so lucky, and yet so unlucky?
“You okay?”
I nod. “If we could teleport to anywhere in the world right now, where would it be?”
Marc rests his head against mine. I wait minutes for his answer. When he seems to have it, I feel his head nod. He says, “I had to do Citizen Management in the state of Wyoming. Well, what used to be Wyoming. A couple years ago, before they stopped recognizing it as its own state. There’s this place called Union Falls there; I think it’s still there. We’ll have to hike up to it, and it’s surrounded by all kinds of trees that are thin, short, and tall. This waterfall reminded me of the shape of a diamond, rushing so quickly over the rocks, it turned white and fell to a short river beneath it that rolled into a small lake. It was the sound, the rushing and pounding of the river. It was sprinkling on me with how close I stood. There. I want to go there and stand under the water to see if its thunder would drown out the world and my thoughts while I hold you like this.” He kisses the top of my head.
I want to rip away from him. I’m dying to cut this short now so it won’t hurt him later. But I also want to stay because I want as much of him as possible, and this I can get. And I don’t know which desire is more selfish. I hug Marc a little tighter. “Thank you for wanting me as much as I want you.”
Ominous Order: A Young Adult Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Series (The Separation Trilogy Book 3) Page 26