The Unforgiven (The Propagation Project Book 1)

by Callie Bishop

  “A traitor?” I ask. “What did he do?”

  “I don’t know. But whatever it was, he must have thought it was the right thing to do.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “What about your mom?”

  “Affliction.”

  “Mine, too.” I leave the part out about dad.

  “Well, I’ve told you my secret,” he says. “Now, it’s your turn.”

  A sinking feeling creeps over me, sending every hair on my body standing up. “What do you mean?”

  “You talk in your sleep.”

  My heart skips a beat, hoping I haven’t given too much away.

  Chapter 43

  “My name isn’t Maria. It’s Hazel.”

  Jack blinks a few times, scrutinizing the sound of my name. “Hazel,” he says with a gentle smile. “Now, where have I heard that name before?”

  The wind picks up, and I grab the blanket off the ground and shake it off. I wrap it around my body, wishing I could sink into it and disappear.

  Jack squints his eyes until they become nothing but a dark line of lashes. “Hazel,” he repeats. “Not a name you hear too often.”

  Avoiding his gaze will only make him more suspicious. I keep my eyes on his, watching his expression change when he makes the connection.

  “You’re the one—"

  “I didn’t kill anyone. It’s all lies.”

  “Relax,” he says. “I don’t believe a damn thing they say on the news.”

  I let go of the air in my lungs and release my shoulders, feeling the tension lift with my confession.

  “Sorry,” I say, avoiding his eyes.

  “For what?”

  “For lying to you. You helped me and all, but you can never be too careful.”

  “It’s all right,” he replies. “No harm done.”

  I smile, thankful I don’t have to say any more.

  “We’ll rest tonight and then head off in the morning.”

  “Head off where?” I ask, looking around. My head starts to ache with the thought of never finding the group. Maybe I just shouldn’t look for them and head back to Eight by myself. Suicide mission. Not your best idea.

  “Don’t you want to get back to your friends?” Jack asks.

  “Yeah, but how?”

  “Easy,” he says. “We’ll send out a pigeon.”

  Jack purses his lips and whistles a short, staccato tune. From the corner of my eye, I see a small pair of wings hover down low from the dark night sky and perch to Jack’s outstretched hand.

  Jack smiles and coos a few sweet words to the bird, giving it a small piece of bread. The pigeon plucks it carefully from the tips of Jack’s fingers and nuzzles its head against his hand in gratitude.

  “This is Apollo. They’re given to Carrier Pigeons to help send messages back and forth. I kept him from the Officials after my dad disappeared.”

  “You stole him?” I ask.

  “I like to think of him as a souvenir.”

  Apollo cocks his head side to side, letting me know he’s scoping me out. He moves in jerky movements, the green and blue hue of his wings shimmering against the light of the fire. His eyes are like little black buttons, and they bear deep down. For a moment it feels as though he can read my mind.

  “Hi, Apollo.”

  With one quick swoop, Apollo flutters over to me, then lands on the tip of my shoulder. I flinch a little, unsure of how to react.

  “He likes you.” Jack laughs.

  Apollo’s feet dig into the material of my shirt, and he gently pecks at my hair. When he’s finished, he flies off until he disappears into the night.

  “I don’t understand,” I say. “How can he help us find my friends?”

  “With this,” he says. “Carrier pigeons have a special camera implanted in them. It transmits the image into a tiny lens I had implanted in my eye.” He points to one of his eyes. “And lucky for you, he’s also a tracking pigeon.”

  “What’s a tracking pigeon?”

  “Think of him as a feathery compass.”

  I laugh, and my side flames with painful heat.

  Jack grabs his backpack and fluffs it like a pillow. He lies down a few feet from the fire, facing my direction.

  “Get some rest,” he says. “You’ll need all your energy.”

  I do the same to my backpack, but not before grabbing the diary first. I lie down and hold it close to my chest, waiting for Jack to fall asleep.

  “What’s that?” he asks, looking straight at it.

  I hold it out in front of me, smoothing the front cover with my hand. “It’s a new book I’m reading.”

  “Is it any good?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “But I’m about to find out.”

  * * * *

  The fire has simmered down to a low flame, just bright enough where I can still read the words on the pages. Jack finally fell asleep, quiet dreamful moans emanating from his mouth occasionally. I stare at the diary lying on my stomach, watching it rise and fall with every breath I take.

  The questions start to swirl in my head. Doubt starts to seep into my memory. This is what she wanted me to find, right? It has to be. Bed blue. I flip to the baby blue pages.

  My curiosity pumps through my thumping heart, and yet it feels like such a violation to expose the pages to my eyes. A diary. A place where every thought, every memory, every word you’re afraid to tell anyone else can finally find a place to settle.

  Dear Diary,

  Hayden came home today with some major news. He’s getting married! Daddy didn’t know what to say at first. When the shock wore off, he told him to leave and never come back. Things are really starting to fall apart around here. I hate to admit that it’s making me scared, but it’s true. I don’t know what I’m going to do with Hayden gone.

  Dear Diary,

  Another day in this miserable Ward and nothing new to report. Dad came home from another day looking for work only to come up empty-handed. Hayden’s coming to visit tomorrow. Not really sure how I feel about that. Looking forward to seeing him but not so much to all the arguing that I know will happen. At least Dad has agreed to see him. I just hope he can keep quiet about the Officials. I don’t think he will stay very long.

  Dear Diary,

  I’m in love! William. Yes, Catherine’s brother. William is working with Hayden in First City. We talked about a lot of things today. Hopefully, I’ll be able to see him more.

  Dad and Hayden managed to have a short conversation. I could tell Dad wanted to start ranting, but he held back. After they left, I told him I was proud of him. I think he appreciated it.

  —I skim the pages. Uncle Will never told me he worked in First City. I skip ahead a couple of months and notice the entries become fewer and farther between—

  Dear Diary,

  It’s been almost a month since I’ve heard from William. I just don’t understand. He told me he loved me. He told me we’d always be together no matter what his parents said. I asked Catherine, but even she hasn’t seen him. I’m worried that something has happened to him. After what he’s told me about what’s going on with the Officials, I’m afraid he’s disappeared forever. I’ve been thinking about telling dad, but I already know he’ll flip out. I wish Mom were here…she’d tell me what the right thing to do was. But I guess she was tired of listening to Dad, too. I stare at the ring on my finger that Will gave me and wonder if I’ll get another chance to tell him I love him.

  Dear Diary,

  A Pigeon came to the house today. Dad almost shot him dead. He delivered a letter from Hayden. I handed the letter over to Dad, but he refused to read it.

  I have given up on hearing from Will. I finally had to tell Dad the reason for my swollen belly. I thought he was going to faint. I’m scared. I don’t know what’s happening and worse, I have no one to talk to. What do I do? How will I take care of this baby all by myself?

  Dad has warned me not to say anything about my condition, as he calls it. Every day, my belly grows a
little bigger. It’s the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t know what is going to happen. Are there any more like me out there?

  Dear Diary,

  Hayden has written to me once again, leaving any mention of Dad out of the letter. He’s reported me to the Officials. When dad read the letter, he ripped it into a million pieces. I don’t think he’ll ever forgive him for this. He won’t even let me leave the house, afraid that I’ll get picked up by Pigeons. They’ll take my baby. And what will they do with me after they have what they want?

  I fan the rest of the pages of the diary, but they’re all blank. When I turn to the last page, I find a picture tucked into the spine. It’s of Aunt Rhea and a boy, handsome, his arms wrapped around her neck. Their foreheads are touching, and they have smiles on their faces, looking straight into the camera. Uncle Will.

  They both look so happy, two people in love, probably for the first time. I tuck the picture back into the diary.

  What happened to Uncle Will and how did he find his way back to Aunt Rhea? Did they take her baby? More and more questions pop into my head as the effects of the sleep stick start to take over again. My eyes grow droopy. The last thought that pops into my head is getting into Ward Eight.

  Chapter 44

  Jack shakes me awake, and I scurry away from him, my back scraping against the hard gravel. I’m still disoriented from the dream I was having. I was back at my house, desperately hoping to find Netty. But there was nothing, not even furniture, just an empty house filled only with the echoes of my screams.

  “Hey,” Jack says, raising his hands in surrender. “Time to get up.”

  I squint my eyes, the throbbing pain in my neck radiating up my skull. The sun is just peeking up through the mountain valley, streams of orange streaking the early morning sky.

  I rise to my feet slowly, feeling light-headed for a few seconds as all the blood rushes toward my feet. My whole body aches, a nasty side effect of having to sleep on the ground.

  I watch Jack collect all his things and repack his bag. He moves effortlessly and with enough energy for the both of us.

  I dust myself off and find a hidden spot to use the bathroom. When I come back, Jack throws me a cereal bar for breakfast. We sit quietly for a few minutes, staring into the ashy remains of last night’s fire.

  “Where’s Apollo?” I ask.

  Jack purses his lips and whistles, and Apollo glides down a few seconds later.

  After we’ve had something to eat, Jack checks to make sure the fire is completely out. “Ready?” he asks.

  I nod my head as I watch him release Apollo back into the air. Apollo swirls in small circles high above us as Jack stands statue still, the only part of him moving are his blinking eyes.

  “See anything?” I ask.

  “There’s a clearing south of here. Looks like a camp site.”

  “Can you see what they look like?”

  He shakes his head. “Not this far away. There are five of them.”

  “That’s probably them!” I say, not doing much to hide my excitement. “They’re probably looking for me.”

  “Well all right then,” he says. “Let’s move!”

  He moves quicker than me, probably used to running in this overgrown, rocky terrain. I trip and stumble a few times while Jack looks back every once in a while to laugh at me. I shake my head, silently scolding myself as I’m reminded of Shane’s first trip to Razor Pointe.

  “Almost there,” Jack says, looking up. Apollo is barely visible in the sky. “They’re not moving, so they must still be asleep.”

  “That’s not surprising,” I say breathless, looking at my mother’s watch. It’s been frozen at 8 o’clock for years. “It’s probably five thirty in the morning.”

  Jack laughs. “Haven’t you ever heard the early Pigeon catches the worm?”

  “Or something like that,” I reply.

  “Just a little longer in that direction,” he says, pointing.

  After about a half hour more of hiking, Jack abruptly stops. I stand behind him, waiting for him to do something, anything, besides breathe.

  “What is it?” I whisper, so low I’m not sure he can hear me.

  He blinks over and over, his expression telling me what he’s seeing isn’t anything good.

  “A jackal,” he whispers, “left behind from yesterday.” He looks back at me with terror glaring over his eyes. “It’s found the group.”

  My breath catches in my throat. I whip around, hearing rustling far out beside where we’re standing.

  “Pigeons!” Jack whispers. “What the hell are they doing way out here?”

  The rustling gets louder as the sound of crunching leaves and cracking twigs gets closer. I’m frozen in fear, knowing that not moving from this spot will put us right in the line of the Pigeons’ vision.

  A shot of adrenaline bursts through me, and I start off in a sprint toward the direction Jack pointed to.

  “Hazel!” he calls out to me in a low scream.

  I ignore him and keep up my pace. The jackals are bred to sniff out human flesh, and they crave to sink their teeth into a leg or arm. They don’t let their victims die easily, but rather keep them alive enough to bleed to death. It usually gives the Pigeons enough time to get some information before it dies along with whoever it is they’ve sent the Jackals after.

  I run, trying to ignore the searing pain in my side, until I reach the edge of the clearing. The pain is so intense that it muffles the edges of my vision, and for a second I think I’m going to black out. I turn three hundred and sixty degrees but still don’t see any sign of the group. Jack trails behind me.

  “Where are they?” I ask.

  “They should be close,” he says, using his second vision to zero in on them. “This way.”

  He starts off on a quick trot but slows as we get closer. It’s not long before I hear the blood-curdling scream that resonates through the sky in an eerie echo.

  Jack stops dead in his tracks. “The jackal. It’s got someone.”

  A gunshot reverberates through the woods, sending a flock of birds fluttering into the sky.

  My heart is pumping so fast in my chest and through my ears I can barely hear the words. I hold my breath. Breathe, breathe, breathe!

  But with every breath I take, I feel like I’ll throw up.

  “The Pigeons are getting closer,” Jack says. “What’s the plan?”

  I look to him, surprised. “Plan?” I say. I have no idea!

  I throw my bag off and rummage through it but don’t see my gun. “Shit! Where’s my gun?” I ask him.

  He looks back at me, confused. “What gun?”

  I let out a heavy breath and throw my bag back on. Covering my face with my hands, I swallow the lump in my throat. The screaming echoes through the woods again, cutting through me.

  “Hey!” I hear behind me. It’s an unfamiliar voice, and my heart drops at the sound of it.

  Pigeons.

  “Don’t move!” the voice says.

  I slowly raise my hands in surrender but refuse to look back. Jack does the same but looks over to me from the corner of his eyes. He nods subtly, and I nod back, hoping I can read his mind.

  Jack makes a break for it and I do the same, running in the opposite direction.

  “Hey! Stop!” the Pigeon yells.

  Gunshots crack through the air, but I keep running, refusing to look back. Flecks of red splatter in the air as a bullet grazes my arm. Pushing through the pain, I reach the clearing where I see Riley’s face, white as snow, hovering over a lump on the ground.

  Shane and Luka are kneeling.

  “Hazel!” Sarah says, running toward me.

  “Pigeons!” I shout. “They’re coming” I look behind Shane and see a bloody, crumpled body on the ground.

  “No!” I yell.

  I rush over to Justin, his glassy eyes following me as I approach. Luka is cradling his head in his arms, his skin and shirt stained with blood.

 
“It came out of nowhere,” he says to me, nodding toward the lifeless jackal sprawled on the ground. Its lip is snarled, revealing glossy, bloodstained razor teeth.

  “It was too late,” Luka says. “It got him while we were asleep. Riley fell asleep…and it was too late.” His voice cracks.

  “Justin,” I say, no longer able to fight the tears. There’s blood everywhere, making it hard to locate his wounds. “We have to get him out of here!”

  “We can’t move him!” Luka says.

  I look back at Shane and Riley, who both have their guns drawn.

  “We have to,” I mutter. “We have to hide.”

  “Just leave me,” Justin whispers. “Leave me.”

  “We are not leaving you!” I help Luka lift Justin, and he lets out a painful bellow.

  “Back in the woods,” I say as we scurry to the edge of the clearing where the tree line is the thickest.

  “How many were there?” Shane asks.

  “Two,” I say.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes!”

  In the distance, I see the silhouette of someone running toward us. My heart skips a beat. I’m quickly relieved when I see Jack’s face.

  Riley and Shane raise their guns.

  “No!” I yell. “It’s okay. He helped me.”

  Jack comes dodging through the trees, Apollo fluttering close behind him. He looks down at Justin, who I have cradled in my arms.

  “They’re close,” he says. “They should be popping up any minute now…from that side.” He nods to the other end of the clearing.

  Shane, Riley, Sarah, and Luka crawl closer to the tree line, doing their best to stay hidden while maintaining their line of sight.

  Justin sputters in my arms, and I hold him close, pressing my hand to one of the gaping holes in his legs. His warm, dark blood flows through my fingers.

  “I’m…I’m so sorry, Justin.” I cannot hold back anymore. The tears fall thick from under my eyes. The color is gone from his skin; his eyes are glassy and wide. I know he is dying, and so does he. I force myself to look him in the eyes, not wanting to ever forget this moment.

  “Hazel,” he whispers to me. The tears wetting his face are my own. Luka is kneeling on his other side, his eyes red and desperate.