Irreverent: Young Adult Dystopian Romance (The Relevance Series Book 2)

by Sarah Addison-Fox

  Her voice is pinched as she leans forward. “Perhaps he cannot answer?”

  Jackson’s expression turns sour as he drops the box with the cord attached. “Drew and I made a deal. Any real interference, he opens communication. He hates me, but not enough to risk losing our assistance.”

  My eyebrows rise, and I voice one of the many questions I haven’t dared to ask. “Why does Drew hate you?”

  Jackson’s lips twitch in a shallow smile. “Let’s just say he likes things neat. And I’m a little too messy.”

  The box crackles before I can ask for him to elaborate. It’s obvious Drew and Jackson have a history when Drew’s angry voice comes out the speaker. “Animal, what the feck have you done? Cockroaches everywhere. Over and out.”

  Despite the anger and what sounds to me like a dismissal, Jackson bursts out laughing. Even Kit and the woman are hiding smiles I don’t understand. It’s Kit that gives me the explanation once again I’m sorely in need of. She wrinkles her nose at Jackson and answers me out of the side of her mouth. “Drew’s okay. If he can use the radio, they aren’t watching him as closely as we thought.”

  I’m still not sure if that means Jed is safe, or what that means for us. “But the cockroaches?”

  Jackson grins as he unbuckles his seat belt. He slides a look out the door cavity. “The thing about cockroaches is that you can’t get rid of them by trying to kill them. They’re almost indestructible. But what we can do is make them scatter.” He winces as he reaches for the gun on the passenger seat. “And that is precisely what we plan to do.”

  He jumps out of the vehicle, and Kit and the woman next to me do the same. The noise of the vehicles approaching drowns out my question. “But what about Jed? Will he be safe?” I stand, dust billowing around me as vehicle after vehicle pulls to a stop. I shield my eyes from the bright lights aimed in my direction. The ghosts start to appear, faces shimmering ghoulishly against the black night closing in around me.

  Jackson raises a hand in greeting. “It’s showtime! Grab your masks!”

  I hear a loud crack, then the sound of humming above us. Kit grabs my arm, tugging me closer to her. “Cover your ears. It’s going to get loud and they will drop chemical gas on us. When I tell you, you run as fast as you can through the graveyard and back towards the old city. Got it?”

  She shoves a mask into my hands and I stumble as I try to nod, still blinded by the bright lights surrounding us, my heart rate speeding as I try to process what is happening.

  Another crack comes so loud, so close, my eyes start to ring. Kit shouts at me but the words are lost over the multiple cracks of what I now recognise as guns firing. I can hear angry shouts, and drones coming towards us. Dozens of feet start to break off in opposite directions, fear is choking the breath from me, but when Kit starts to run off into the black night after Jackson, I know I have no choice but to follow.

  Cristan.

  It’s the height of irony that my mouth is parched but the small amount of water in my body has decided to collect in my bladder. I scowl at the nurse who’s come in, sure she’ll say to hold it, that she doesn’t care, but surprisingly, she smiles at me when I mention it.

  I’m so shocked when she taps on her time slide and asks for assistance to move me, that I gape at her. Her blue eyes crinkle into lines as she smiles. Her teeth are all perfectly even, white, and like all the other nurses here, she’s incredibly pretty.

  I flinch as she raises one groomed eyebrow, her voice like a purring kitten. “I’ve never met an Irrelevant man before. Do they all look like you?”

  A shudder of unease shoots through me. There is no way she’s interested in me like that. She’s one of Frankenstein’s lackeys. Probably sent in to sweet talk me. A good cop to his bad cop. She is, however, going to get me out of here to use the toilet, so I bite my tongue and force a smile.

  The guard arrives. He’s burly, sullen with a lined face and hard eyes, which makes me think he’s probably seen the worst of what can happen in this ward. The nurse leans over me to reach the monitor above my head and unlike the last one who was obviously disgusted by me, she makes a show of hovering so her breasts are directly in front of my face.

  My cheeks heat at the obvious attempt to manipulate my emotions. I look away so I’m staring at the guard rather than the nurse. His lips quirk, and for a second I think he’s amused, but when the nurse turns, his face is back to hard. Her fingers linger a little too long on my inked forearm as she starts to remove the restraints. The guard steps closer, his glower intensifying as he grabs the nurse’s slender wrist.

  Her eyes widen as he shakes his head at her. “I’ll do that. You should be more careful. These Irrelevants are nothing more than animals.”

  I’m used to the insult but it still makes my body tense and heat travel through my veins. The nurse lifts her nose, irritation etched over her perfectly symmetrical face. Like most Relevants, she’s probably unused to being manhandled by a lower number than her. I reassess the guard. If he’s here, he wasn’t picked to guard me just because he can break every bone in my body with the baton he carries, he’ll be here because he knows what I’m capable of. And what to expect.

  He meets my gaze. “Don’t even think about trying anything. You make one wrong move, you lose the right to leave this bed even to use the sanitary facility. If I have to, I’ll insert the catheter myself.” My eyes pop open a fraction as he grabs my hand and punches in something to the wristband. I strain to see what it is, but he’s too smart. He doesn’t even look at me as he moves to the other side of the bed. “It’s activated by DNA recognition software, as well as a pin that changes every hour.” I frown at him, wondering if he’s intentionally given me information I can possibly use, or just telling me it’s hopeless. My eyes flick to the door and he speaks without looking at me. “Three more guards in the hallway.”

  My hope continues to deflate as the door swishes open and Derek steps inside. He exchanges a look first with the nurse, then with the guard. If they all know each other, nothing registers on Derek’s face. It wouldn’t do. He’d never lower himself to talk to a lowly grunt like the guard must be, and as far as I know, he’s likely paired off with another number ten who works in something equally Relevant.

  The nurse approaches with a bio box in her hand. She passes it to Derek without another look and disappears, seemingly finished in whatever the task was that brought her here. When I make a move to shift, the guard grabs my arm and yanks so both my hands are together. He snaps a restraining band that tightens automatically and grabs my arm. I shuffle forward, trying not to show the pain the movement causes until my bare feet are on the floor.

  Derek gives me a wide berth as he comes alongside me, the bio box still in his hand. He doesn’t take my arm the way the guard did, but he makes sure I see the weapon on his belt, but it’s not the weapon he carries that frightens me the most. It’s what will happen when the dope passes through my system and they finally get permission to open me up again and mess with my head.

  I can’t think about that. I need to focus. I need to put one foot in front of the other and just keep plodding on until I can find a way out of here. The sanitary cubicle isn’t big enough for us all, so the guard deposits me in front of the urinal and Derek steps to one side.

  He stretches out his hand. “Sample.”

  With a mutter I grab the box from his hand and awkwardly go about my business, ignoring the sinking feeling growing as more of my freedom is stripped away. When my hands are sanitised and dry, the guard grips my arm again. He starts to lead me back to my bed, but Derek’s time slide illuminates with an urgent blip. His frown grows as he stares at the tiny screen.

  When he lifts his gaze, Derek stares so coldly at me, I can almost feel a shiver running through my body. “There has been an event involving Irrelevants in the old city.” I strain against the guard as I try to see the information on Derek’s time slide. He jerks his crisp shirt sleeve down so I can’t see and heads to the door.
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br />   It takes every bit of resolve not to ask him if it’s my old Unit. It’s too much to hope Drew or Jackson or anybody will be able to help me, so I grit my teeth and clench my fists in their bindings. “Damn it.”

  The guard beside me exhales slowly as if my brother’s departure is a great relief to him, but he says nothing about my curse, though it’s likely he’s never heard the word before, as he pulls me back to the bed I’m about to be tied down to.

  Panic starts to make my chest tighten. The walls start to press in a little closer. The ceiling seems too low and the air lacking the right amount of oxygen I need. Fear is bubbling to the surface. I’m helpless once I’m strapped into the bed. They can do anything they want, but it’s futile to fight. Not now anyway. Not with three guards right outside the door, and my brother still close.

  I try for a smile and keep my tone as calm as my raging heart can manage. “Don’t suppose I could just sit?”

  The guard eyes me frostily. “My orders are to confine you to this bed. I may be a seven, but I’m not stupid enough to disobey them and lose credits.”

  I shake my head and grimace at the pain that tears through my skull. “It’s them that are stupid. The entire Relevance system is critically flawed. If you knew the truth—”

  He cuts me off with a wave of his hand. “I’m not interested in your conspiracy theories.” His eyes flicker to the door, then to the camera blinking as a constant reminder I’m once again a prisoner. He isn’t gentle when he shoves me towards the bed again. My hip connects with the metal at the side and sets my aggravated ribs to throbbing again.

  With no alternative but to comply, I hop up and use my stomach muscles to lower myself down. He stands expressionless while I huff and grunt to get comfortable again. When I’m breathing too fast, I hold out my hands ready for the restraints, but he only pulls the tablet from where it hangs at the foot of the bed. He taps away, as though he’s filing a report of some kind.

  With nothing else to do, I stare at him, assessing whether I might be able to overcome him if I needed to. He places the tablet back and narrows his eyes as he catches me watching him. His eyes flick back to the door and he turns slightly so his back is facing the camera.

  My hands are shaking, fear is close to taking its hold so I take my chance. The only chance I might get. “Do you know what they do to test subjects in here?”

  He doesn’t respond immediately. Not verbally anyway, but the corner of his mouth begins to twitch. “We had a son,” he says.

  And I know by the flash of anger that crosses his face for a split second that I may have just found an ally.

  Mallory.

  I pump my arms and legs, but I’m still falling far behind the others. I’m gulping in breaths of air, but I can’t seem to fill my lungs. Nausea fills my stomach and tears are stinging at my eyes. My body is failing me, refusing to acknowledge the commands I’m desperately trying to send.

  My leg buckles and I slam into the rocky ground beneath me. Dirt slides under my fingers as I grab at the dusty floor, alternating between retching and sucking in air that doesn’t seem to reach my lungs. Over my choked sobs, I hear shouts and the sounds of government men behind me. They draw closer with each heaving breath.

  It’s so dark, I can barely see my hand in front of me. With a strangled cry, I rear back from the mound of dirt I’ve accidentally disturbed. Vomit rises at the graves surrounding me. More tears spill over as I try to pull myself upright. My limbs shake from fatigue and they’re almost as useless as I am. My heart is thrashing in my chest, sweat is making my clothes stick to me. With trembling legs and cautious steps, I start to pick my way through the centre of the graveyard and try not to think of what lies beneath, but no matter how my body is failing me, I can’t stop moving. Without Kit to guide me, I have no real direction to travel in.

  Panic starts to make my throat close over, and my legs move more from fear of being left out here than fear of the government men discovering me. Ragged breathing comes from over the nearest cross. A slight figure scrambles over the dirt and nearly slams into me as she slides down.

  Relief swims through my veins as Kit’s voice comes in a whisper. “Thought I’d lost you.” Her eyes are wide in the dark as she peers over my shoulder and whispers. “Let’s go. Jackson and Trey are moving the 4WD. We’ll meet them inside.” She starts to jog away and I have no choice but to follow. Fear carries me as we run towards the barricade that borders the old city. More drones buzz overhead and Kit curses loudly and swivels just as a streak of light falls from the sky. “Mallory, put your mask on!” she screeches.

  Terror rips through me as I fumble with the mask I’d wrapped around my wrist. An acrid smell fills my nostrils as I start to choke. My eyes sting and what little sight I had is lost as my eyeballs blur. Kit’s voice comes from far away as my ears start to ring and pressure builds unbearably in my burning throat.

  Rough hands grab and pull my fingers away. I feel pressure against my face, then tightness as a band is snapped into place, securing my mask, complete with visor and air filter. I shudder through trying to breathe in the clean air. I should be grateful someone put my mask over my face, but my gratitude is short lived when Kit pulls my hand again and my fingers link with hers.

  I start to run, tripping and stumbling away from the noise. My own shaking breathing is loud as my breathing echoes distorted in my mask. A loud boom rattles the earth, causing the ground to split beneath me. I scream into my mask as I lose my footing and crash to the dirt. As I try to pull myself up, blue light lands on me that’s so bright I have to shield my eyes. Kit shoves me hard and pulls a gun from her waist. She’s cast half in shadows by the large drone hovering over us.

  “Irrelevants. Remain where you are,” a mechanical voice says through the drone’s speaker.

  I peer up at Kit, and through my impeded vision see her looking in the opposite direction. A roaring noise speeds towards me. Two lights like eyes are pulsing in the darkness. More gunshots resound, and the drone suddenly dips and starts to spiral downwards. I let out a squeak as arms tug me backwards just as the lights bump over the uneven ground and come to a sliding stop right beside me.

  “Hurry up! There’s three divisions on the way,” a masculine voice shouts over the sound of gunfire and drones.

  Kit appears in the fogging vision of my mask and she nearly wrenches my arm from its socket when she drags me towards the lights. “It’s Jackson,” she shouts at me.

  My relief is short lived when I clamber inside the passenger seat of the vehicle, but it’s not Jackson in the driver’s seat. It’s Trey looking sidelong at me as he speeds off. I tumble into him as we bounce over the ground and grip the seat beneath me, only to have my hand come away wet. “Are we going back to the New City?” I shout past my mask.

  Trey doesn’t turn as he shouts his reply. “No. There’s been a change of plan. Jackson needs help.” He jerks his thumb backwards confusing me further. With a frown, I twist in my seat to check on Kit. She doesn’t look at me as she rips off her mask so she can cradle a fallen figure lying in the back seat.

  Light from one of the drones hovering over us, splashes in the windscreen, illuminating the dark stain growing on Jackson’s chest. My mouth opens in a silent scream as I twist back to hang on to the hand grip. Trey dodges debris and fallen buildings littering the old city. He curses as more lights from ground level find us.

  “Feck. That’s a G vehicle heading our way.” I close my eyes tightly and yank the mask from my face so I can see better. My hands are shaking almost as much as the vehicle as Trey turns the steering wheel so he’s directly in the larger vehicle’s path. “Hold on to your knickers, ladies, gonna play chicken with the roaches,” he yells.

  I’m too scared to ask any more questions, and even if anyone could answer me and tell me what playing chicken involves, I’m not sure I really want to know the answer. The oncoming vehicle is getting closer and closer. My breathing starts to speed along with my pulse. I grip the handrail as
tightly as I can, and as the lights get so bright they hurt my already tender eyes, I squeeze them shut and scream.

  Every muscle in my body tenses at the sounds of a collision. It’s so loud, I’d have thought we were involved, were it not for the momentum we still have. I open my blurry eyes to a grinning Trey. He shouts something incoherent out the window as if he’s talking to the drone. He slides a look my way. His grin increases and he adds in a wink. “Don’t you worry. Drew knows we’re coming. Everything will be okay now. You’ll see.”

  I want to believe him. I really do, but when I look back at Kit and see her tear-streaked face and Jackson’s blood on her hands, I don’t believe that anything will ever be okay ever again.

  Chapter 14

  Cristan.

  Somewhere between the third and fourth IV flush, I decide thumb screws would be a better alternative to this. Every time the nurse comes in, every time the door swishes open, every muscle in my body clenches and the heart rate and blood pressure monitor’s register spikes.

  Though I have no way of knowing exactly how long I’ve been in here, it must have been hours since Derek disappeared. I’ve stopped trying to think about how long Frankenstein has been gone. I’m definitely doing my best not to think about my brother, or Mallory, or what the hell is going on outside the wall. The next chance I get, I’ll see if I can prise some info from the guard. I know something about him now. And that something makes him a little bit more human than the rest of the robots in here.

  The nurses have come and gone, leaving me alone again. Alone with not just one but two IV’s hooked up to each arm. Only one contains the saline they are using to flush the Irrelevant drugs from my system, the other hovers ominously, lurking as a stark reminder of what’s to come. As soon as I’m classified as Irrelevant, they’ll dose me up again for surgery, and given that they’ll be using intravenous meds rather than the med box or gas, Frankenstein won’t muck around.