by J. L. Weil
“Are you ready?” Mom asked, smiling warmly at me, but it didn’t exude the same sense of security it once had. I no longer trusted my parents. What I had learned about them—their actions and what they did here—changed my perception of the two people I had loved most. They were strangers with familiar faces.
I nodded, my anxiety spiking at the sight of the needle in her hand. Why did tests always involve drawing blood? “I think I might faint again,” I murmured, my eyes unable to stop staring at the syringe.
“It’s just a quick pinprick and a little blood,” Mom assured me.
“Hey, look at me,” Dash said, slipping his fingers under my chin and guiding my face toward his. “You got this.”
The sting came and I winced, feeling the blood rush from my face and my fingers turn to ice.
Dash grabbed both of my cheeks, forcing me to look up at him. “Don’t you dare pass out on me a second time.”
If Dash demanded it, how could I disobey? “You better make that vial of blood last, because you’re going to have to sedate me to get any more.”
Mom chuckled. “This will do… for now.”
I shook my head. “Nope. Not happening. I’ve lost enough blood.”
A guy with shaggy gray hair poked his head in through the door. “The scouts have returned,” he told Mom.
Ryker is back.
Chapter Four
Mom gave a short nod to her assistant before turning her pointed gaze on Dash. “Make sure she rests and juice would be good,” she instructed, gathering her supplies, including my blood.
Ignoring the ribbons of dizziness circling my head, I sat up.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Dash asked me as I scooted to the edge of the table.
“Downstairs.”
He moved in front of me, blocking my path. “Do I need to have your hearing checked? They only place you’re going is back to your room.”
That’s what he thought. “I’m fine. It was just a little blood. Don’t be a baby.”
His dark brow shot up. “Me? A baby? I’m not the one who went white as a ghost at the sight of a needle.”
I rolled my eyes and hopped down, reaching for the doorknob. “Are you coming?”
He grumbled under his breath as we walked out the door and into the hallway.
The Institute was bustling with the return of the scouts. With frantic eyes, I scanned the crowd of guards, looking to find if Ember or Ryker were among them. Standing on my tiptoes, I stretched to see over the sea of people.
“Need a boost?” Dash said in my ear behind me. His hands came to rest on my waist.
I angled my head to the side to glance over my shoulder at him, worry snaking through me. “I don’t see them, do you?”
He shook his head. “No.”
I couldn’t let my brain contemplate what that might mean and refused to believe anything had happened to them. This was my fire-raging sister and a man who shifted into a bird; they weren’t easily killed. Ignoring the golf-ball-sized lump that had formed in my gut, I rubbed at my eyes to clear my vision. Where are they?
Dash grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers, and tugged me away from the crowd. The bow on his back slid down his arm, he didn’t seem to notice. “Where are you dragging me to? If you bring me to my room, I will just leave again.”
He easily ushered me down the hall. “Stop being such a brat. I have a hunch about where they are, and I’m never wrong.”
I didn’t know what his intuition was, but I stopped resisting as we walked outside into the courtyard, and over to a door tucked away on the back of the Institute—hidden unless you knew to look for it. To anyone else, it would have appeared like just another part of the exterior wall.
“How did you know this was here?” I asked.
“I’ve been inside before. Twice.” The door squeaked open when Dash pushed it—rusty metal needing oil. Inside was a set of stairs leading down into a dark, damp, and musty basement.
A chill skated over my arms, making the hairs stand up. “Are you sure we want to go down there?”
His gaze met mine, and I didn’t like what I saw there. “This is the Institute’s dungeon”—the place where my father had imprisoned Dash.
Unease raced down my spine at my first step inside. Do I really want to go down there… on a hunch nonetheless? My eyes glanced over at Dash, uncertain how he had the willpower to return to a place that held such nightmares for him. His face was rigid, the hand in mine tightening, and yet he pressed on because I was concerned about Ember and Ryker.
“Do you think my father locked them up?” I asked, while we rushed down the uneven steps, our footfalls echoing around the narrow stairwell.
He came to a sudden halt. “Shh. Do you hear that?”
My free hand steadied me against the cool, wet concrete wall. Then I heard it, a haunting shriek from deeper in the underground prison.
Dash’s expression hardened, his body going stiff alongside mine. We reached the bottom of the stairs, moving down into the tunnels, and in one quick swoop, I found myself shielded behind Dash. Was there another Forsaken within the white city? Had we missed one?
A high-pitched, tortured shrill I recognized followed our arrival. My head swung from side to side, trying to see around Dash. He wasn’t making it easy. From an awkward angle under his armpit, I suddenly saw Ryker. My eyes swept over him, checking to see if he was hurt, but other than a smudge of dirt on his cheek, he looked healthy.
A movement from the corner of the space diverted my attention. We appeared to be at the entrance of a holding room for new prisoners. A few metal chairs lined one wall. I stood up straight and weaseled my way in beside Dash. Ryker held the end of a rope, and it jumped in his hand. I followed the line with my eyes, unable to believe what was at the other end.
I blinked.
This wasn’t real, was it?
With another blink I came to the conclusion that it was very real.
Holy buckets.
Next to Ryker stood Ember and two other guards—Shane and Reed—each holding a rope. The four thick braids wrapped around a mother-freaking zombie.
Ryker’s gold eyes fell upon my face. He wasn’t as happy to see me as I was to see him. It might have had something to do with his prisoner.
My mouth gaped open. “Oh my god. You captured one?”
Ryker and Dash shared one of their famous looks. It was a silent promise between them to keep me safe. “We were instructed to bring one back,” Ryker informed me, keeping his end of the rope tight.
I bit the inside of my cheek, tasting the metallic tang of blood. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Ordering a capture sounded just like my father, and I could guess what he had planned for the seized creature. Tests. Tests. And more tests. He would want to study them, find out how they survived, how they were able to interact with the toxic mist, and many other analyses all in the name of science and for the “greater good” of the Heights.
I called bullshit.
My father always had a personal agenda, so what was his reason behind this?
Around the Forsaken’s torso were two ropes, and the other two bound each wrist. The being hadn’t come willingly and now bucked and tugged on the ropes. If given the chance, I thought it might kill itself.
“Is this a good idea?” I asked. How much did the Institute really know about them? How did we know we weren’t inviting a zombie war to the doorsteps of Diamond Towers?
Dash’s spicy scent teased my senses as he gently wrapped an arm around my shoulders, making me steer clear of the Forsaken. “I don’t really think we have a say in the matter. It’s been done.”
“We’re taking it to one of the cells, and you’re holding us up,” Ember added in her crisp tone.
“And then what are you going to do with it?” I prompted, even though I knew the guards were only acting on orders they had no control over.
Ryker began moving along a corridor to the right of the holding area with slow, deliberate steps, p
ulling the zombie and the rest of us with him. “I can only imagine what terrible things Dr. Winston has planned.”
My father could be such an asshat sometimes. “What happened to the village? Is everyone okay?”
Ryker’s eyes sobered. “There were a few casualties before we were able to contain the situation and secure this guy. The other Forsaken fled back into the mist.”
“There was more than one?” Dash asked.
Ryker nodded. “Four at least. They seemed to be able to communicate with one another.”
Dash forked his fingers through his hair. “We had our own zombie visit while you were gone.”
Ryker’s eyes grew wide. It was unheard of for a zombie to have made it this far from the mist borders. “Since you’re still here, I assume you killed it.”
Dash smirked. “That’s the only way I operate.”
Not true, but I held my tongue. Every so often the creature would throw its head to the side and stare right at me. It gave me the heebie-jeebies, but at least it was no longer struggling or screeching. “Will the cells down here be able to contain it?” I asked as we approached a row of barred doors.
Ember indicated for one of the dungeon guards to take her rope, as she opened the metal chamber. “We’re about to find out.” The keys she pulled out of her pocket clattered as she turned the lock.
The creature’s skin bathed the semi-dark hall in a green glow. Sensing what was about to happen, he went mad as a hatter. Jerking back its arms, he screamed, proving to be stronger than its fragile form had led us to believe. The guard who had taken over for Ember wasn’t prepared for its vigor and the rope snapped out of his hand. It might overpower four guards.
We only had a moment to decide the best course of action.
Dash reacted on pure instinct. Reaching for his bow, he dropped to one knee, and promptly had an arrow pulled back.
“Don’t!” Ember yelled, throwing herself in the arrow’s path. “We can’t kill it.”
“The hell I can’t,” Dash snarled. His fingers twitched. He was itching to let the arrow sink into the flesh of the Forsaken.
“We can’t afford for you to go Rambo at the moment. This is too important. We need to learn more about them to know how to deal with them,” Ember said, holding her arms out in a t formation.
Dash rolled his shoulders and stood up. Aggression bounced off him in waves. Between being back in the dungeon and the zombie, he was wound up tight. Who could blame him?
The loose rope flopped around on the ground as the zombie continually tried to stretch his free hand out to grab one of us. He was like a fly buzzing into a light bulb that couldn’t look away. “Keep it distracted,” Dash ordered. “Ember, grab the door.”
For once, my sister did as she was told, running back to shove open the iron door. Halle-freaking-lujah. Ducking under Ryker’s rope line, Dash made his way behind the zombie and did his best Chuck Norris boot-in-the-ass kick. The altered human went sailing face first into the cell. Clang. Ember slammed the door shut. Click. The lock turned, trapping the zombie inside. Now all that was left was to see if it held it.
We gathered in a line, staring into the cell, while holding our breaths. The Forsaken jumped up and rammed full force into the bars.
I flinched.
A chorus of exhales sounded in the corridor. The metal had held, not bending a fraction under the weight of the creature, but that didn’t stop it from trying again and again.
Holy crap. It worked.
“It’s going to get tired eventually, right?” the dungeon guard asked.
No one answered.
My father might be crazy, and now he had himself a toxic zombie.
Later that night, I had the strangest dream. A little boy, maybe ten or eleven, lay flat on a slab of cold, gray granite. His hair was in desperate need of a trim. I wanted to brush a lock of hair out of his eyes but couldn’t.
Beside him sat a woman with flaming curls much like my own. I couldn’t see her face, but there was something familiar about her. She wore a white puffy Cinderella dress with so much tulle that it made her look like a fairy princess.
As I watched the young boy and woman interact, I couldn’t help but wonder if they were related. The smile that easily crossed the little boy’s face led me to believe the woman wasn’t a stranger. Maybe a sister? Or his mother?
Were these people important?
One thing I’d learned about my dreams since the slumber was they often were prophetic. The visions frequently came while I slept but could also appear during the day, leaving me unsettled.
Recently, I’d been having dreams of zombies, so this was a refreshing change.
“You’re safe,” the woman reassured softly, sweeping aside the strand of hair I had wanted to brush off his forehead. “I’m going to take you somewhere they can’t hurt you.”
“I’m scared.” The little boy’s voice trembled.
“I know you are. I am too, but if we stay together, we’ll never be alone again.”
He nodded, trying to be brave, and kept his tears at bay.
The woman held out her hand, and the little boy slowly put his fingers in hers. Together they stood up, and she turned. The vision chose that exact second to dissipate in a puff of smoke just I was about to see her face.
My eyes popped open and stared at the white ceiling. Shadows from the window danced with different shapes of zombies, their arms stretching out to attack me. My mind was playing tricks on me.
It was in the wee hours of the morning, and there weren’t any signs of real zombies, just Dash sleeping soundly beside me. I tried to banish all thoughts of the vision, but it stayed with me throughout the night.
Chapter Five
“Charlotte, we need to talk.” My father had caught me alone, and I didn’t think it was a coincidence. He took a seat in the chair across from me in the common area.
I was taken aback to see him. He didn’t often mingle with the guards, usually hiding away in his office or the top floor of the tower. This must be a real treat. My gaze lifted from the tattered and musty romance book Dash had surprised me with the day after the attack. I didn’t know who he had begged, borrowed, or stole from, but I was thoroughly enjoying the treasure from the past. And my father was interrupting my few moments of pleasure.
“Can’t it wait? I’m just getting to the part where—”
“No,” he said. “Things are escalating, and we need to be prepared.”
“For what? A zombie war?” I set the book aside. “Do you really think it will come to that?” I had my own assumptions about where the state of the Heights was headed, and it wasn’t paradise.
“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. His green eyes were serious. “We’ve only scratched the surface on these toxic beings that somehow managed to survive a hundred years in the mist. There is still so much for us to learn, including why they can suddenly breathe clean air. Why they’ve unexpectedly come out of hiding? And how have they been able to live for so long?”
I was sure we could speculate all day long. Loss of food source? Changes in the environment? Boredom? “So what did you want to talk to me about?”
His eyes glanced over the cover of my discarded book. “Now that you are settled in, it’s time to put your abilities to good use.”
“I thought we were scaling back on the rainbow powers until we figured out what’s triggering the blackouts.”
“I wouldn’t ask this of you if it wasn’t important. And of course, I’m not expecting you to start today, but I wanted to run it by you and see if you are open to the idea.”
I gnawed on my lip. “What do you have in mind?” I had figured he’d be consumed with his little pet in the basement. The fact that he was ready to move onto another phase in his grand scheme of world domination made me nervous. I didn’t trust my father—not by a long shot—but maybe by immersing myself further into his program, I would gain his trust.
He nodded, pleased I was being so obliging. No doubt he�
�d been anticipating an argument. Or Dash. I didn’t doubt that this little visit was initiated because I was alone and without my guard-dog boyfriend. “We need more manpower. There aren’t enough guards in the Institute to protect the borders, and the people within the Heights.”
“You still want to build an army, and you need me to wake up more recruits,” I guessed, keeping my voice leveled.
His gaze brightened, and it scared me. I didn’t like what I saw there. “You’re the only Gifted I know of with such an ability. You have no idea how unique you are.”
I kind of did. I was reminded every time I looked in the mirror. These eyes weren’t easy to get used to, no matter how long I stared. “Dash is never going to agree. He has this thing about me not using my powers.”
“I trust you can sway the Slayer. His feelings for you cloud his judgment. If he understood the magnitude of our situation, he would comply with the Institute’s security measures.”
Was he actually suggesting I use my womanly wiles to get Dash’s approval? I scoffed in my mind. The joke was on him. I didn’t have those particular gifts. A wisp of unease curled in my belly. The Dash I knew was no longer the soldier my father remembered, but it sounded like my father was convinced he’d still obey.
“I doubt it matters what I say, and although I don’t condone the choices you’ve made, I do believe in saving what little of the world we have left.”
He clasped his hands together on the table. “Good. Your mother wants to do a physical, and a few tests to see how your body responds to the shifting of your abilities, if you’re up for it later.”
The string of unease in my stomach turned to a ball of acid. “Sure, why not.”
He laid a hand on mine. “Bring the Slayer if it makes you less nervous.”
I snorted. “And risk him knocking someone out? Nah. I’ll come alone. No needles, right?”
A rare smile devoid of cunning spread over his lips. “Behind the eyes, you are still very much the daughter I remember.”