“Marc told me.”
My jaw drops. “What?! Marc told you I was sitting with Cory?”
“Yes. Calm down, Kylie,” he barks. “He should’ve told me. You’re losing your damn mind.”
Smoothing my hands over my head, I breathe. “Okay, Luke. I won’t associate myself with Cory,” I say, hoping he will leave me alone so I can now go yell at Marc for being a tattletale.
“Good, don’t do it, Ky. We’ll talk later.”
“Okay, where’s Marc?”
He shrugs. “I think he went walking toward the privates’ rec hall. Don’t get back in that either. I’ve never seen you this emotional, Kylie. All because of Marc. He was right to end it, and you know that. Leave him alone.” He grabs my shoulder. “It’s not important. You need to leave him in your past. He’s just another bystander in your journey.”
I throw my head back. “I wish. But I get it. And right now, I’m going to ask him why he told on me,” I say, annoyed.
Luke grabs my arm as I pivot and turns me back to face him. “Seriously, Ky, it’s not important. Leave. Him. Alone,” he states slowly. “You already can’t take it. Stop it before it gets too serious. I know how you feel. I promise I do,” he says softer. “It’s a bad place, I know. It’s new to you and confusing, and you took it there and then decided to fall back. I get that. But believe me when I say this is better. Before you go further, and you fall. It’s better to drop it now than to have it be the last choice, and you drop him or he drops you. Then I’ll have to drop him and his brother. Got it?”
My hope and strength plummet. I haven’t felt this bad in a long time. My throat burns, and the inner corners of my eyes cringe, waiting on me to give in to my sadness. I clear my throat to remove the burn as I stare at the ground.
“Go run it off, Ky,” Luke says sympathetically, rubbing my back. “I’m sorry it sounded cruel.”
I run off to the obstacle course and hit it full speed. Thunder booms, shaking the wall I’m climbing. As my boots hit the dirt, the rain pours by the buckets. I squint to see through the blur, looking to head back.
A small figure is running for me, charging through the pouring rain.
A coyote. I make it out as it gets closer. It sits in front of me, fur muddy and drenched. It looks behind him and back to me. Its eyes flash the familiar mixture of blue and green, and I grumble heavily. What could the Vojin want with me now?
“You want me to go with you?” I ask. Its head lowers, staring at me more directly.
I check my surroundings, grateful I’m still alone. As fast and hard as this rain is pouring, no one can see me from this distance. I check my guns. Today, I’m carrying a regular gun and one for the Zombies. Both are fully loaded.
“Okay,” I say. “Where?” It turns and runs off toward the distant hills. I follow behind it across the wet open land to the tall hills. Minimal grass and a few trees at my height cover the land.
The coyote runs down into a burrow underground, a bit wider than my width. It’s enough I’m following a coyote and talking to it. Following it into this hole would be too much. “No.”
It snarls, baring its teeth. It barks once.
“Hey,” I tell it. “You could get shot.” I firmly clutch my gun in my hand and line up my finger along the barrel. “I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” I mutter under my breath, cautiously approaching the mouth of the tunnel. Stepping toe then heel, I creep through the burrowed opening, crossing one leg over the other as the hole narrows to a dome-like center.
One way in and one way out. I flick on my flashlight. The pounding rain beats on the ground above my head, and I wait for it to eventually make its way through the softening mud and pour into this hole.
“Now what?” I ask the coyote, readying myself to shoot whatever comes through the hole behind it.
Thin lines of blue and green particles soar into the opening, forming three circles just above the ground. The center of each circle glows with a dim mixture of the colors and rises, forming three human-like silhouettes.
Vojin. I lower my gun, wondering about their weird entrance and why the coyote.
They materialize, and colors of blue and green dimly fuse through them, head to toe. They view me with dark, mirrored eyes the size of miniature avocados. The nose- and mouth-like human features do little to distract from the over-sized eyes and rubber-like, hairless flesh. The three of them are identical, nothing but the frame of man and woman to differentiate their appearance.
“Yes?” I say, placing my gun in its holster.
“They’re tracking the implants,” the three inform.
“The Trade,” I offer.
The America’s Trade just delegates the tasks taken on by each section of the country; Breeders, Farmers, Developers, Order Enforcers. To keep order in the development of Creations, the Trade established Breeders for Creations and disbursed them throughout The America so they’re heavily involved in the organization of Creations. They also took over management of life forces outside of Earth. They keep things together throughout the world and establish what needs to be done and what new law needs to be enforced. They’re responsible for transferring information throughout the countries as a neutral party but are to keep all the countries’ private information sustained. They know about everything that goes on in and outside the world. So really, their involvement may not be that farfetched.
The Vojin nod, but only the man follows. “I am Talock.” He lifts his hands, palms up, in greeting. Before lowering them back to his sides, he gestures to his left at the two females. “Elihu and Kyp are my companions.” His thin lips part a little wider and stiffy forms his words as he explains, “There are some here, weeding them out. Stay safe and undiscovered.”
“You don’t have to worry about that.”
“We are simply advising,” he informs with a single nod.
“Can you tell me about this new plan?”
“Yes. There will be destruction here,” Talock answers. “There is no need to dominate over such a nuisance. Over these people who don’t care enough about the life on their own planet.”
The woman in the middle, whom I assume is Elihu, nods and adds, “If they do not care for and cherish it, they do not deserve it.”
“Who are we to determine that?” I ask accusingly.
“Who are you to question us?” Talock shouts, color flashing maroon. His voice shakes the burrow, causing the dust from the dirt to fall around us.
I lower my head, ashamed I questioned them and caused them offense. “No one.”
“We understand you may have a connection to this place because you have spent so much time here, but this is not where you belong,” Kyp, the female on the far end of their line says.
“It was, yes. But it is not anymore,” Elihu follows.
Talock nods once, and he adds, “Remove your comfort from it. Soon it will diverge.”
I look up, seeing his featureless face. “And the threat?”
“The threat was a courtesy. A heads up that something worse is coming. Minimizing their population will make the transition easier. We’ll wipe them out with the rest, and there will be less fuss.”
“That’s why it’s okay for us to kill them?”
“Correct. There are enough of them now, it no longer matters. They will spread, and many will find themselves fighting for what’s left of this waste-land. What’s in store for those remaining will be far worse than the last destruction.”
“We were not the reason for the last destruction,” I tell them, feeling separated from the we I used. “What happens if they decide to fight back?”
“Let them. We will have you all to fight for us. There are hundreds of you here, and soon you won’t have to hide. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you’ve gone through such rigorous training. The day is soon coming, and we will rage war on them all.” He looks to his nodding associate and then continues, “After we were obliged to care for them, we started watching them. Watching their ways, unde
rstanding them, and for years, they have grown worse.”
Elihu, still standing in the middle, adds, “One would think if destruction came once, they would learn and teach their offspring to do right, to become a better race of people, do away with the ways of hate, devastation, and the taking of lives. We hoped they would enforce love and correct the errors they made the first time.”
“But they did not,” Talock takes over. “They invented things like Creations, ruthless monsters generated to harm innocents.”
“We protect these people and this—”
“They,” he emphasizes in a corrective tone, “do as they’re told. They use Creations to fight their wars, lessen the overpopulation, and control the weak.”
Sounds familiar to me…
“Comply with our decision, Kylie Alexander,” Elihu orders. “Or there will be two others considered for the reconstruction.”
“Reconstruction?” I question. Lafren, the Vojin-Zombie who helped me in Chicago, mentioned nothing of a reconstruction.
“Reconstruction of this planet. It is not the globe that causes issues, but the people who walk upon it. After it is all destroyed, we will reconstruct and place four upon it as firsts to establish a new life. A better life.”
I cross my arms, eyes narrowing as I survey them. “You’re saying you’re planning to kill every person on this planet?”
“And plant a new being to grow and rebuild this place.” They revert into atoms, sinking into dimly lit circles.
“Wait.” I approach them. The coyote jumps in front of them, growling. “I’m not afraid of this miniature wolf. I have more questions!” The coyote continues to bark. I pull out my gun ready to shoot it. “Shut up,” I shout.
The blue and green particles zip from the hole through the tunnel.
“Wait,” I shout after them, over the barking coyote. I go ignored.
They trail out. I fire my gun twice. It’s silent.
The blue and green particles rush back, quickly forming a body. The hand of the man wraps around my neck, choking me as he lifts me off the ground. I grab his wrist and grit my teeth as I tighten the muscles in my neck. His grip worsens, and I drop my gun to wrap my free hand with the other.
“You killed that animal,” Talock angrily accuses, his glow taking on a livid red.
“You all were influencing it. It wouldn’t stop barking.”
He slams my back into the dirt wall, grip tightening. “That is not a reason to kill that innocent animal.”
“Reason…enough, if you…can’t…answer my questions,” I manage through staccato words with his hand around my throat.
He pulls back and slams me against the wall again. “There was no reason!” He throws me to the ground. “If you become like them, your future will be like theirs. You and Lukahn. Your placement mother and father would not look upon your behavior well if they were here.”
Holding my throat, I heave for air, knees planted on the dirt. “My parents would want me to know and understand.” I jump to my feet, charging in his direction. “To fight for what I believe and know what is the right thing. To stand up for what they believed in,” I state angrily.
He stalks toward me with anger in his stride. “And when someone or something like yourself goes against us, they end up like your parents did. Like they are. And how they were.”
I lunge at him.
Quicker than I, he has me in the air, his hands around my neck so tight he cuts off my air. My blood rushes, angered by his sudden reveal. Betrayal. “Do not destroy what you have established, Kylie Alexander. You have done well so far.” He shoves me down to my knees, forcing me to look up at him as pain shoots through my spine. “Do not mess it up,” he warns. “There was reason in what happened to your parents. Do not make the same mistakes they did.”
This is where the authority lies, and in order to make it out of this burrow alive, I must swallow my pride and play them as they have played us for all these years.
In his choking hold on me, I nod. He releases me. I pant, grabbing my neck.
On my knees, I watch him transform into blue and green particles and quickly float away like a breeze blowing sand, back through the hole.
My eyes burn and an acid-like sting works through my chest.
Don’t cry, Ky, I tell myself. You cannot have weakness. Now more than ever, you cannot show weakness.
I pull myself from the ground and dust the dirt from my knees. Cracking my neck, I work out the growing sadness. No. This isn’t sadness I’m feeling. It’s sorrow; a feeling of deep distress caused by loss, disappointment, or misfortune suffered by oneself or others. I have to throw a punch in my gut to remove the remainder of it lingering in the pit of my stomach that makes me want to hunch over and scream at the top of my lungs as tears fall faster than the rain.
The water from the storm is pouring into the hole. I climb out of the slippery burrow and run back to the base, drenched and muddy.
“Kylie,” Jord calls, authority booming in his request. “Where have you been?” He looks me over with shock in his wide-eyed gawk.
I take quick breaths, tired from the long run back over here. “Sir, I was at the obstacle course. I thought I saw something in the hills. I checked it out.”
His hand flies to the gun on his hip. “Do you think it was more of them?”
“No, sir. Whatever it was, it ran from me,” I lie.
“Okay,” he says, muscles in his face relaxing. “You’re covered in dirt, Captain.”
“I fell, rolled down the hill, sir.”
He nods. “Night’s coming. Clean up for dinner, and find your brother. He’s looking for you.”
“Okay, sir, thank you.” He turns on his heels and marches toward his office.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Where have you been?” Luke jumps off the couch in the living room when I’m coming through the door of our home. “I’ve looked everywhere,” he snaps.
“I could tell you,” I tilt my head back so he can see the distinctive slender fingers marking around my neck, “but then I’d have to kill you.”
Luke’s hand lifts halfway to my neck but falls away. Calmer, realizing I’ve had a hell of a day, he asks, “Where are you going?”
“To shower and change into a different suit.”
“I’ll come with you to your room.”
“Okay.”
Luke closes the door of my room and quickly crosses the floor to me. Hand reaching for my neck but still avoiding making contact, he whispers, “How did that happen?”
I go over the story, from the coyote to their heartbreaking reveal. “They killed mom and dad.”
“What?” he huffs. “No way, Ky.” He takes a step back then forward as he’s crossing his arms and grabs his upper muscles. “No way…” he whispers under his breath.
“I said I believe in what they believed in and will stand for what they stood for even if it’s not what the Vojin stand for and now believe. And he said people like our parents died for doing that. That I shouldn’t make the same mistakes.” My throat burns, and this time, tears fill my eyes. I hold my head back, keeping them in until they go away. Once settled, and after swallowing hard, I mumble, “That’s twice today,” I put up two fingers, “that I wanted to let go.”
Luke leans against the door. “This. That. This is,” he stammers. “I don’t know.” He drags his hand down his face. “Are you sure, Ky?”
“Yes,” I say, pulling another suit off the rack. “I’m going to shower, change, and go to dinner. Are you done for the day?”
“Yes.” Shoulders slumped forward and tone dry as the mess hall’s bread, he drones, “I’ll meet you for dinner.” Then he leaves.
While I shower, I let the tears fall, hiding them in the water running down my face. We’ve put our trust in these beings, we’ve dedicated our minds, bodies, and genetically beating hearts to them, and they’ve played us since day one. How could we have been so blind?
I sniffle and hate myself for doing
so. Crying is a stupid ability of this body.
What’s the point in it? It’s not helping. It doesn’t make me feel better in the least.
I dress in another suit and take my clothes to my room. Upon leaving, I run into the other person life has made me want to shed tears over today, and I fight them, seeing him.
I back into my room, closing the door.
It reopens and closes.
Marc pulls me to him, wrapping his thick arms around my neck. “You’re shaking again, Ky. And you promised.”
I let go, his consoling lets me be myself and not some hard-core army chick designed to destroy things and people. In silence, I cry against him. He rubs my back and holds me tighter, furthering my comfort. I squeeze him in my arms, wishing I could literally bury my face into his chest, wishing he could soak up my sadness and replace it with joy.
Joy: a feeling of great pleasure and happiness.
I take back my control until my bad-ass exterior is once again intact. Turning away from Marc, I wipe my eyes. He leaves. I slip on my vest and head outside, going to the mess hall.
“What have you come up with?” I ask Luke, sitting at his empty table after I’ve grabbed my dinner.
“I want to destroy them. Period.”
“How do we take them down?” I want to destroy them too. “How can we confirm that, about Mom and Dad?”
He thinks as he eats a roll. “I don’t know, Ky.”
“Luke,” Jord calls.
“I don’t get a break from this shit,” he mumbles, leaving to see what the general wants. I sit alone, shoving mashed potatoes into my mouth.
Cory takes Luke’s empty seat. “What’s wrong with Luke?” he asks.
“Nothing. What’s up?”
“Nothing. I was waiting on him to leave so I could sit with you.”
I finish my chicken sandwich and wipe my mouth. “You are now the enemy, Cory,” I say low. “Why do you think they didn’t kill you?”
He shifts uneasily. “I suppose to not draw attention. To not have questions asked.”
“Questions are being asked.”
“Right, but not the questions that would’ve been raised if they had killed me.”
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