Jackson jumps to his feet and curses as he flicks a switch and pulls a box with a cord attached to his mouth. “This is Animal, are they taking the dog to the pound? Over.” I have no idea what they are saying, but from the expressions on Kit and Jackson’s faces it’s bad news if Cristan goes to the ‘pound’. My toes start to tap in my boots as the seconds pass. Jackson raises the box to his mouth again. “You receiving Hedgehog? Over.”
The static continues for a few more seconds, then Trey’s voice comes back, high pitched and frantic. “Receiving loud and clear. Don’t have eyes. Over and out.”
Jackson swears again and throws the box down. He runs a hand over his face and turns back to the screen. “If they took him, there will be a dispatch with the orders.” Kit still hasn’t moved, but her forehead is creased and she’s started chewing on her fingernails, staring at the back of Jackson’s neck. My heart is pounding when Jackson turns. His face is contorted as though he’s in pain. “I didn’t think it would play out like this. They had him locked up and nicely controlled for six years. There is no good reason to not throw him back in there.”
The blood rushes around my head, a dull thrumming starts in my ears as I take in the unspoken apology on Jackson’s face. The floor tilts underneath me, the questions spring from my mouth. “It’s because of me, isn’t it?”
Jackson turns back to the screen. His silence is answer enough.
Cristan.
After the rattle of the gate that allows the vehicle entry back inside the new city, we drive straight. I close my eyes and try to remember how long the journey took on foot. The medical centre is in the south quadrant, close to the wall and close to where the number sixes and below are herded into living quarters no bigger than what I’ve had in the Unit.
We jolt to a stop and I jerk against my restraints. Sweat is pouring off me now I know for sure where they’re taking me. I hear voices, one of which is so commanding I know it’s Derek’s. It’s no surprise he’s in charge. I can almost guarantee he ordered his men to beat me, probably as a G approved payback for the embarrassment I would have caused him.
It’s a pity no one knows who he is either, but as far as I’m concerned that is the only thing we have in common. Unlike me, he’s lived a life of privilege, had the best education. I had to scam every ounce of screen time from my tutors, and he lived in a luxury suite, free to come and go while I was confined in the hospital or locked up. He also wasn’t being used as a pincushion for every new drug they’d come up with just because he toed the line from birth, and then passed his Relevance Test on his eighteenth birthday. If there was a celebration, an exchange of gifts, or a pat on the back, and promise of promotion from our father, I never saw it. By then, they’d decided I was a lost cause. Fit for further trialling, visits on test days were nothing more than a skeleton in our family’s closet.
The doors open with a crack, bringing with it three armed defenders and the watery sunlight I hoped never to see again. Two of them haul me up under the arms, and one unlocks my feet. I’m tempted to kick them the second I’m free, only the long blonde hair tied up in a tidy bun and the delicate features of a woman under the uniform prevents me. Her pale blue eyes search my face with a coolness I’ve come to expect in numbers higher than sixes. She steps backward so the other two can drag me outside.
I smell the new city before I see it. Starch, chemicals, and the scent of the additive they put in the water to make everyone feel like the air is clean and fresh, but like everything inside the new city, the smell is false, and it masks something rotten spreading like a plague.
Tall buildings surround me. Endless blocks, slabs of colourless concrete and mortar over paved streets perfectly clean and ordered. I raise my arms to swipe the blood leaking from my head wound and am rewarded with a bark from the G man holding my right arm. I curse at him, and though he can’t know what the word means, his eyes widen.
Derek stands to one side of the empty street, a tablet in his hands. He looks as officious as ever when he waves a hand over the access panel and the doors swing open. I shuffle forwards, still firmly in my captors’ grip. The pain in my head is getting worse, and at this point, I’d count myself lucky if I pass out.
There are more uniformed G men inside, but the bland reception area is eerily quiet. Given this is a normal weekday and it’s the only clinic in this quadrant, it should be teeming with Relevants. The hairs on my neck stand to attention. There’s only one reason they would have cleared the clinic like this.
I glance over my shoulder to see if Derek is following, but he’s disappeared like the coward he is. Fear coils in my stomach, making my legs leaden. My captors think I’m resisting, but I’m incapable of moving by myself. They have to drag me across the spotless floor some poor number five will end up cleaning as soon as the building is cleared.
A guard is waiting at the lift. He doesn’t even look at me when I stop beside him. I’m nothing to these Relevants. I’m a bug, an insect, something they don’t understand and don’t care to. My guards don’t exchange small talk, they’re conditioned not to. Not that I want to talk to them. If I did I’d probably earn another punch. Maybe if I did, I’d not make it upstairs and wouldn’t have to face whatever they’ve deemed suitable punishment?
Self-preservation and the thought of Jed and Mallory keep me from doing something stupid and ultimately pointless. We step into the lift and the guard swipes at the panel. My muscles all tighten as we move. The floor number isn’t illuminated the way the others are. I’m one of the few who know it’s a hidden floor. Top secret, clandestine operations aren’t exactly broadcast. Even if anyone was looking for me here, there’s no way for them to access a floor that can’t even be seen. Not that anyone will come for me. If Jackson knows where I am, I can’t see him risking his neck to come break me out. Even if he caused all this, and I still don’t fully understand his motives, he can’t have prepared for me to be taken back.
The lift stops seamlessly and the doors open. Everything is the same as when I left it six years ago. Everything is either grey or whitewashed. There is nothing vibrant. Nothing that might provoke a reaction. No one here even knows there’s something vital missing. No one knows because they’ve grown up without colour, without choice, and they know if they question it, they’ll risk their status, their social standing, and no one except me would be dumb enough to do that.
We pass closed doors of soundproofed rooms. There was only one time in my stays here I was grateful for soundproofing, and that was the day I walked out of here. I know where they are taking me. Nausea is starting to rise; my palms are slick and sweat is pouring freely down my face. My breathing starts to come in quickly, lights spark in my vision. Chills wrack my body and I know fear is starting to take control.
If I didn’t know what they are capable of, if I was going into the room at the end of the corridor blindfolded, maybe I’d be better off, but each step closer is one step closer to the doctor I‘ve started calling Frankenstein when I recognised the similarities to an old horror story I found.
I try to swallow but my mouth is devoid of any moisture. The guard swipes his wrist and I try and fail to steel myself for seeing the chair again. My knees give out and all resolve not to fight leaves me as my brain registers the chair in the centre of the empty room. I struggle, yanking backwards, pulling with all the energy I can muster. My breathing is so rapid I’m starting to hyperventilate, but even my desperate surge of strength isn’t enough.
The guard’s baton is off his belt and in his hand in a split-second. I try to dodge the blow, but he strikes the back of my neck hard enough for my ears to ring. Stars dart before my eyes, and I sag in their grip. Blessed blackness closes in all around me as I can’t find even one breath to fuel my starved lungs.
The first indication I’m awake comes with the lights blazing into my eyeballs. Pain screams through my skull, I flinch and try to move but my legs and arms have been bound to the chair. I’m strapped in, electrodes on my temples, chest
tight with fear like I never left. My ears are buzzing but I can make out hushed voices in the room. I squint against the light they’ve purposely left bright. Another familiar tactic. What’s not familiar is that there’s a tray within reach filled with various med boxes.
If that wasn’t enough to convince me of their intent, the recognition a voice brings, stirs every nerve ending to respond. “Clear the room. Camera off,” he says.
I know then I’m not coming back from this. I’m a dead man walking. He needs the cameras off because he’s going to give me a lethal dose of something. I take a gulp of air. He shifts the light so I can see the green eye and the artificial one he must have gotten after I stabbed him. I didn’t think I could hate anyone more than I hate my brother Derek, but as Frankenstein smiles, he’s the closest thing to evil I know exists, and with anger surging through my veins, I clench my teeth together to stop from cursing the room down.
“You caused a mess when you left here,” he says like I spilled a drink. I don’t bother to reply. Just work my jaw and clench my fists in their bindings. His eyes shift downward and he pokes at the tattoos on my arm. “I see you embraced the Irrelevant culture.” I look over his shoulder and keep my eyes on the machine against the wall. I ignore him. I know he hates it, he always did. He’s used to being listened to. That a pip squeak like me wouldn’t answer him used to make a vein twitch at his temple. Those twitches. That tiny amount of control I had was what kept me going. Maybe that’s how Frankenstein’s monster felt too? I don’t know why, but the thought seems insanely funny. My nostrils flare as I try to keep a straight face. His voice is tight. “Something is amusing you, Cristan? Or perhaps you are more injured than I realised?”
I stay silent and picture his twitch growing when I tell him some of the things I’ve discovered about human nature, things that six years living in a large box with some of the most unbalanced Irrelevants has taught me. I’m not the naïve boy who left here. I know there’s a whole world out there that he can’t be privy to. That gives me power I never had before. I just need to find the best time to use it. And given the number of med boxes he plans on using on me and that the EST machine is in the room, my time is running out.
Chapter 11
Mallory.
Night is creeping in as we return to the common room. I’m hot, sweaty, and my thoughts are so tangled, I can barely form a coherent thought. All my muscles are knotted and tense, and though Kit and Jackson don’t tell me why Trey still hasn’t returned, they don’t seem concerned.
The aroma of savoury food, like the meals we had before, wafts around the room. I frown at the heating element and wonder how and when Trey or Kit had time to prepare it. Jackson grabs a bowl and gives Kit a weak smile. “Could you give me a hand?”
She takes the bowl with a nod and points to the table. “Sit. Both of you.” I take a seat, my toes tapping on the floor as I think. There is no explanation for meals appearing out of nowhere. There must be others here. Unseen hands make the food, wash the dishes and clothes. Hidden people who I’ve not seen or heard in the time I’ve been here. Kit places a steaming bowl of food in front of me and smiles. “You look like you have questions?”
My nod is feeble. I’m too consumed by thoughts of Cristan and whether he’s safe. I look to Jackson and ask a question I should have before we came upstairs again. “Can’t you look in on the Unit? Or find out where he is?”
Jackson is shovelling his food down as though he’s worried someone might steal it from him. He takes the time to swallow before he answers. “We can look in on the Unit to check on Jed, but your boy isn’t with them. He’ll most likely be back in the new city by now.”
My hands carry a shake so I place them in my lap. “Aren’t we going to do anything?”
Kit’s forehead wrinkles. “I know it’s hard, but you need to eat something. No offence, but you look like a stick insect. If you’re going to help me in the garden, you’ll need to build some muscle.”
She’s staring at my arms, causing me to examine them. “A stick insect?”
Jackson chuckles. “Long skinny arms and legs. Like a stick. I guess you’ve never even heard of a stick insect, what with living in the perfect city all your life.” He says it so matter-of-factly as if he knows for certain. Knows I’m just like every Irrelevant he’s met.
I bristle as I dip my spoon in my bowl and swirl it around. “I’m still learning about everything they banned.”
Jackson’s eyebrow rises and he nods slowly. “Sorry. You are. And I didn’t mean anything by it. I just forgot you’re different.”
I’m so unsettled, I sit back in my chair and drop my spoon in my bowl. “What do you mean?”
Jackson’s eyes widen and he looks at Kit. A smile twitches at her lips but she looks at me as she chews. “Not all Irrelevants appreciate beauty. And not all of them want to learn. They usually go back to pretty much the same life they had before.” She keeps talking as she eats, talking out of the side of her mouth. “Take Cristan’s Unit for example. Almost three hundred inside and only around ten percent use the library on a regular basis.” She swallows and takes a sip from one of the three water canisters someone thought to place at the table. “Most of them are happy enough doing their jobs, keeping entertained, staying distracted, having as much fun as the G allows them.”
Jackson eyes me. “You should eat. Soon as Trey gets back, we’ll need to move in a hurry.”
The thought gives me enough motivation to heed his warning. I swallow down a small spoonful of the colourful bowl of food. It burns my tongue and brings heat to my mouth. I reach for water and Kit smiles up at me. “First time eating curry? They made it mild, but it still packs a punch.”
I take a gulp of the water and take in as much food as my knotted stomach will allow. I don’t want to be sitting here, waiting for Trey to return. Waiting to act. I want to move, to help Cristan, but I have no way of doing so. Without Kit and Jackson’s assistance, I can’t do anything but think. And thinking about him, about what he withheld from me, makes my chest hurt all over again.
I attempt to distract myself by asking the obvious question they skirted around. “Who is they? And where are we going?”
Jackson pauses, spoon mid-way to his mouth, and pulls a face at Kit. “Can’t I eat first?”
Kit shrugs and pushes her bowl away. “You eat. I’ll talk.” Jackson mumbles into his food, earning him an eye roll from Kit. She dabs at her mouth with the linen napkin on the table. “Okay. Let me start at the beginning. You know that fifty years ago the government took the radical move to start segregating its citizens…” I nod and lean forward, my hands trembling as I wait for the answer to the perplexing question I wish Cristan had been here for. “What you don’t know is that along with introducing the Relevance system, they also started running a bunch of trials involving the first of the Irrelevants.”
My brows draw together. “Drug trials you mean?”
She nods and toys with her spoon. “Some were trials for vaccines, but when the results were less than stellar, they started experimenting with a lot of other things. Some of which I didn’t know about until Jackson showed me.” With a huff of air, she drops the spoon. “They started messing with DNA, tried lots of drug combinations, all with the then Prime Minister’s permission.”
A wave of nausea flows through me. “What happened to them?”
Kit’s eyes flick to Jackson’s then settle on me. “Most died, but a few were granted permission to leave and managed to survive, but what they didn’t know was that there were lasting results that would pass down to their children. A lot of kids born out here aren’t medicated like they would be in the Units. So neurological problems are prevalent, plus, because their DNA has been messed with, they all have low skin pigmentation, which means they don’t stand a chance outside the protection of the UV shield.”
A chill sweeps down my spine. “Where are they?”
Kit looks over her shoulder. “Out past the Zoo wall. You saw the street
s, how clean and ordered everything is? That’s down to their hard work over the last five decades.”
Jackson finishes his food and swipes at his mouth. “They are essentially living proof of what the government is still trying to do. And they deserve more than a life in the shadows. I’ve made it my mission to do what I can to see them allowed back in the city.”
Kit leans forward. “The government has left them alone because they are completely self-sufficient, but times are changing, questions are being asked about the drain on resources. Any Units showing signs of outward rebellion will provide further evidence that tolerance and ongoing support is dangerous.”
My voice comes out as a whisper. “But what can we do?”
Jackson pulls his gun from his holster and places it on the table. “We couldn’t do anything until now, but your boy, if he has the right motivation, which he does now, he’ll do pretty much anything he can to get back out here.”
Kit eases away from the table. Her eyes narrowing, a question in her voice. “That wasn’t in the plan, though. He was going to go back and tell Drew he’s going to join our side.”
Jackson doesn’t look at her, just fingers the gun so it slides on the table. “Yeah, well. The plan has changed. Maybe he can find a way to contact us?”
Kit’s cheeks pink and she’s taking rapid breaths. “You can’t be serious? How’s he supposed to do that? How’s he supposed to get out?” With every word out of her mouth, numbness spreads around my body. I should have stopped him. I should have gone with him.
Jackson’s shoulders slump a little, but his voice is still as unyielding as ever. “He’ll do it because he’s got double the reason now.”
Kit slams her fist down on the table and makes me and the bowls jump. Curry splashes over the table. “What the hell, Jackson? You know what they’ll do to him. If he doesn’t make it out, I’ll never forgive you.”
Irreverent: Young Adult Dystopian Romance (The Relevance Series Book 2) Page 13