The Separation Trilogy Box Set: Books 1 -3

by Felisha Antonette

  I straighten my spine, bring my feet together, and repeat more sternly. “The same thing I was wondering, sir. It sounded odd to me too, sir,” I respond as a Creation would, without opinion, though I am withholding a more typical response. His words render suspicion, and he should be put to death. A Creation has proven he cannot be trusted, and an untrustworthy Creation is a malfunctioned design. Subject is failure and requires termination. I reserve this response because I believe Jord may know about Cory’s secrets, and I’m the one being tested.

  “What else did he mention?” Jord asks.

  Looking straight ahead, I answer, “He hopes to be working his way back up, sir.”

  Jord nods. I spot it in my periphery. “He might be,” he says slowly, looking off in the direction Cory ran. “Keep your distance, Captain.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  He marches off behind me. I sigh with relief, dragging my hand across my forehead.

  “Why are you standing in the middle of the road?” Fein asks at my side.

  Where did she come from? “Nothing, I’m walking.”

  “Well, where are you headed?”

  Somewhere everyone can stop sneaking up on me. “Um, to the training hall. You?”

  Fein tucks her fingers in her front pockets and shrugs. “I’m tired of looking at my group, and I want to relax for the rest of the day. Thinking about treating it like a day off. They’re pretty bruised up anyway.”

  Nodding, I say, “Good idea. Let’s give them the day off from training and have them watch the guides and Trade instructions.”

  Fein chuckles. “Those boring videos,” she drones. “I guess.”

  We can’t let the Normals just sit around. They must be learning something, but I agree they need some recovery time. If the Generals or, worse, Luke, were to walk into the training room and see the trainees lying around, we would hear it for sure.

  By the time the morning bell dongs, Fein and I have gathered our groups, and we pile into the projector lecture hall with the comfortable auditorium seats and air conditioning. We ask the cooks to serve breakfast and lunch in the hall, and we spend the entire day playing the Trade’s instruction videos from Introduction to Separation for Normals to How to Cope with Loss in Battle. I even play The Path Beyond Separated War, where it goes over how they can submit a division request to be shipped to another faction to be Breeders, Farmers, or even Construction Workers. None of which have I ever been interested in, but their one- to two-hour run time per video fills up the day.

  The ending bell dongs as the sky turns to dusk. Fein and I dismiss the groups and head into the cool evening breeze.

  “Let’s go to the mess hall and get dinner before it crowds and then head back home and watch a movie,” Fein offers. I’d think she’d be tired of staring at the projector light today. I’d prefer to lie in my bed and dissect that mysterious letter to try to figure out the illegible words, but I agree because I’m working on being more sociable.

  I turn on my heels, heading with her toward the mess hall. “We would have to make it home before Sean.”

  Fein bursts out laughing. “That’s so true. He will get back, kick off his musty boots, prop up his smelly feet on the center table, and hog the den and the movie player.”

  Sean is cool with me, but I can tell he doesn’t trust me, though he doesn’t let it show. He also never brings up that night or discusses Marc and me anymore.

  “Ky!” Fire calls, running over to us. “Hi, Fein.”

  “Hey,” we greet. “You’re done for the day?” I ask.

  “Yes, Marc made us stay behind for an extended training because we didn’t finish our trail in the time he wanted. He is extremely hard on us.”

  “Yep, that sounds like hardcore Marcain,” Fein states, chuckling.

  “You think they would mind if I came with you all? I don’t fit in with the others.”

  Fein and I share a glance, knowing they would, and we shouldn’t friend the Normals. It’s one of the first rules as a leader, but I was associated with Fire before Separation. I shrug, and Fein nods.

  “I’ll sneak you in. Don’t draw attention to yourself. We aren’t staying there long,” I say.

  “Just long enough to eat, then we’re headed home,” Fein finishes.

  Fein, Fire, and I enter the mess hall and head toward the food. We shuffle down the counter, grabbing our dinner with Fire between us. There aren’t many people here yet, so we should be able to sit before the others notice her.

  “Thanks,” Fire says again after we sit.

  I nod and dig into my lasagna. The food in Separation is far better than the food back home. Danny was right to look forward to this. They give us a variety of options throughout the week, and it’s always cooked to perfection.

  Luke comes up next to me, sticking his fork in my lasagna before his butt fully hits the bench. I roll my eyes, ignoring him and the full plate of food on his tray. My lasagna tastes just like his! But Luke, who wishes to be in control of everything, always has to eat my food and drink my beverages. He wouldn’t be Luke if he didn’t.

  “Hey.” Luke reaches around me to tap Fire. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m an outsider with the others. I wanted to sit with friends.” Fire shrugs and shrinks into her frame.

  Sean sits on my other side, forcing Fire and the others beside her to scoot over. I don’t know why Sean always has to sit by me, but he does at every opportunity. If we are in the mess hall, the rec hall, the auditorium, anywhere he finds a seat beside me, he will take it. “I would not take you as an outsider, Fire,” Sean says. His voice is a replica of Marc’s raspy tone. The sound of it would usually make my heart jump for Marc, but it twists my stomach coming from Sean.

  “Sean?” Fire inquires, smiling.

  Sean smiles at me. A wink causes his purple iris to flash, and he turns back to Fire. “No.”

  “Yes, you are.” Fire cracks a flirtatious smile.

  “Then why ask?” Sean adjusts to whisper in my ear. “I think she likes your boyfriend.”

  I nudge him with my elbow. “Stop.”

  As if on cue, Marc strides over, Collins tight at his side. They sit a little too close for my comfort. She smiles, quietly saying something to him and turning into his shoulder as she chuckles.

  “Her too,” Sean adds, whispering again as he bows a nod toward them.

  I stop chewing the lasagna I’ve just shoved into my mouth and swallow hard, irritated he’s pointed them out. “Thanks.” I glare at Sean from the corner of my eye. “I was trying to ignore that.” Poorly, but trying. Appetite gone.

  Sean laughs.

  “Ignore what?” Luke and Marc ask.

  I look at Marc, biting the inside corner of my bottom lip to keep from telling the truth. “Nothing,” I say with a quick shift of my gaze to Collins and back to him. He averts his gaze and scoots away from Collins. Marc gets on my nerves with the back and forth we so often have. Though Collins appears to be so infatuated with him, giggling and whispering to him, Marc saves those intimate interactions for me.

  I turn to Luke, after catching Collins reclaim her closeness to Marc. “You want some?” I ask, picking up my canned soda to cover up my grimace.

  “No, I got one.” He taps his soda can with his fork. Over the sound, Collins’s cackling and moans tempt my attention. She won’t get it.

  I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Um,” I divert my attention back to Luke, “You sure? Because you’ll say no and still take it.” Honestly, I want the distraction to take my focus away from Collins’s obnoxious snickers.

  Luke turns down the corners of his mouth and shrugs. “Yeah.” Unconcerned with Collins’ sudden change from him to Marc. “You like your food?” he asks.

  “It’s fine. You apparently like it too.” I wipe my mouth before whispering in his ear, “Why is Collins on him when she wants you?”

  He turns my head and says in my ear, “I was finished with her, so I guess she moved on
to the next one.”

  I nod, turning back to the others. Fire is casually flirting with Marc, asking him a million and one questions. Fein is sitting on the other side of her, flicking her peas at Sean. A couple of them scatter onto my tray. The front of her is damp and cola drips from her chin, likely Sean sprayed his soda at some point while I was distracted. Floyd’s sitting on the other side of Fire, also flinging food at her.

  Luke talks to Marshal and Marc, and Marc tries to hold up the conversation while ignoring Collins and Fire.

  I finish my food while the kids play. Someone behind me squeezes my shoulders, and I am so over people sneaking up on me.

  Striking a glance over my shoulder, I find Cory looking down at me. He invites me to talk with a welcoming, crooked smirk. I shake off his hands and stand. “What?” Cory swipes his thumb over the corner of my mouth. “Don’t do that.” I swat his hand away, feeling awkward that he did that in front of everyone.

  When it comes to Cory, Marc forgets what role he actually plays in my life and will take up the torch of a big brother, forgetting I already have one of those. He’ll run and tell Luke when I won’t listen to him telling me to stop. Then there are times when he gets jealous and wants to play the boyfriend. Don’t do that with him, Ky, he’ll say passively, a look of resentment sticking in his violet eyes.

  “There was food on your face, and it was distracting. I need to tell you something. Walk with me.”

  Then there’s Luke…The big brother who thinks he’s my father.

  Luke stands beside me, an inch taller than Cory, shoulders also wider than his. He crosses his arms and looks Cory over. “Why do you insist on talking to me in front of him, knowing he’s going to have a cow?” I sigh heavily, knowing one of the three of them is about to start a fight.

  “You shouldn’t be talking in front or behind me,” Luke states.

  I thought we were talking low, but once Luke says this, the room quiets, and everyone turns their attention on us. “Cool out, Luke,” I tell him kindly.

  Luke looks from Cory to me. “No, you cool out.” Since Luke overheard Cory’s confession of working with the Trade to sneak the names of the implants from our general, and Cory lost his position, Luke has zero tolerance and no respect for him. We’re supposed to be loyal to each other. If our generals were under investigation, as a Creation, Cory should’ve brought the concerns to Jord before sneaking around his office. Or at the very least, he shouldn’t have gotten himself caught.

  I look away from Luke to Cory. “I’ll, um, talk to you later,” I say, scratching the outer side of my left eyebrow. My cheeks burn.

  “Ky, everything okay?” Fire asks. She’s the only one of our close group who is not used to the disputes between Luke, me, and Cory like everyone else.

  I roll my eyes. “This is normal. It’ll be over in a sec,” I whisper over the table.

  “Why is she in here?” Cory blurts as I’m turning back around. He points to Fire, raising his voice. “Why are you allowing her to be in here, Luke? It’s your responsibility to keep one party separated from the other!” He shakes his head and marches off, shoving the mess hall’s doors open on his exit. They slam against the walls and swing on their hinges.

  “See what you do, Ky,” Luke accuses, following after Cory, likely to prevent Cory from telling on him.

  I roll my eyes and throw my hands on my head. “I didn’t do anything,” I say childishly, hurrying outside after them. Dusk deepens the red color of the dirt road and brick homes. I see Cory charging for the General’s office, kicking up dust with every step. Luke’s a few feet behind him. “Cory,” I call once the doors to the mess hall are closed behind me. “Where are you going?”

  “To have a talk with the general.”

  Luke laughs as he slows his pace until I make it to his side. “He’s going to tell on me.”

  I match his laugh. “Cory, you cannot be that childish. I’m the one who told Fire she can come. Tell on me, not him. I thought you wanted to talk anyway, why waste the time. The talk with Sir Jord will take too long. Let’s talk now.” Cory stops, and I mutter to Luke, “Got it.”

  He laughs again. “No. Let him tell on me. We can all go sit in the general’s office and tell him everything, including that conversation you had late night with Ky.”

  Cory whips around, charging across the dirt. “You told him,” he accuses, jabbing a point in my face.

  I smack his hand away, and before I can defend myself, Luke says, “Ky didn’t tell me anything.” He shoves Cory away from us. “I can read snake in your eyes. I know the sneaky shit you do to get back on top. You’re low.”

  “What does he do?” I ask Luke, tugging at his shoulder.

  “Nothing,” Cory cuts in, giving Luke a warning glare.

  Luke laughs loudly, holding his middle. “You think I’m afraid of you. Regardless of you being good or bad, Ky will never side with you over me. It doesn’t matter if she knows or not.”

  “What did you do, Cory?”

  “Nothing, Ky. I’ve always been on Luke’s bad side because you like me. He’s threatened by me. Thinks I’ll become your first pick.”

  I hold in my laugh, though I snort. Pick Cory over Luke. That will never happen. I wouldn’t even pick Cory over Marc, let alone Luke. “The three of us know that will never happen, and you cannot try to sway me from the side of my brother. Are you insane?” I ask but don’t wait for an answer. I tug Luke’s arm as I turn us around to head back to the mess hall. We ignore Cory’s rebuttal as he stomps off, but I don’t hesitate to ask Luke, “You’ll tell me about what you were talking about later?”

  He laughs, arm dropping on my shoulder. “I know nothing. It just makes sense. He has to be doing something under the table. I don’t know for sure though.”

  Chuckling, I nudge his side with my elbow. “That’s deceitful.”

  He shrugs. “Must be true by his reaction.”

  “He definitely gave himself away,” I say, realizing that what Luke is saying is true.

  Luke laughs louder as we head back into the mess hall. “The best was that bit about you picking him over me, your twin.”

  I snort. “Like that’ll ever happen.” I shove his arm from my shoulder, and we shuffle back to our table where we left our food trays.

  Fein stands at my approach. “You ready to go?” she asks.

  “Yeah.” I scoot my tray to Luke as he sits. “Throw that away for me.”

  He nods.

  “Thanks.” Passing Luke to meet Fein, a cold feeling strikes me in the chest, sending a freezing scorch blazing my veins. Collins’s lips connect with Marc’s. Seconds crawl by before I’m in position to lurch across the table and shove her away from him.

  Marc calmly breaks away from her, and Sean says, “Exactly, Fein. Let’s go.” He coolly wraps his arm around my shoulder and shuffles me from the room against my will. Fein follows close behind.

  I’m fuming, skin boiling red.

  The nippy breeze cools my flesh but does nothing for the rage within me. “What the hell was that?” I shout. I maneuver out of Sean’s grasp and turn back for the mess hall. Sean and Fein catch me by my arms and push me toward our house.

  “It’s cool, Ky. He didn’t want her to. Don’t be jealous,” Sean tells me, hands wrapped tightly around my shoulders, still pushing me.

  “Am I acting so unruly that I needed to be shoved from the mess hall and escorted to the house?” I snap.

  “The fingers you shoot with are twitching and you turned red with anger in an instant, Ky. Sean grabbed you when you took a step toward them.”

  I wasn’t even able to take a step forward. “Why would she do that?” I burst. “Did he let her?”

  “Don’t sweat it, Ky,” Fein begins. “I’m sure he didn’t want her to, like Sean said. I thought you and Marc were over anyway.”

  Sean nudges our front door open, and Fein and I walk in before he does. “Right. I mean, we are. We weren’t something to be over. I just didn’t need to see
that.” We amble to the den and toss our vests onto the table.

  “Ky and Marc are not over,” Sean states halfheartedly, plopping down on the sofa. “He’s into her, and she is equally into him. That’s why they look at each other like that. Googly eyes, as though they were destined to be Dyads instead of Creations.”

  I sit on the table in front of Sean, and Fein sits beside him. Crinkling my nose, I scoff, “I’m not at all beautiful enough for being a Dyad, and Marc’s too rough for being aired on some billboard and ogled at by onlookers.” I wouldn’t want that anyway. The broadcasters in charge of the America’s entertainment and developing culture match the most captivating individuals, whom they can portray as loving, intimate couples in efforts to encourage the Normals to mate and have families. They use them as an example to imitate, and I believe they’re indirectly conditioning Normals to want companionship so that they will be inclined to increase the population. The more people in the America, the greater the economy.

  Fein fake gags. “Those well-shaven god and goddess fakes!” She kicks her heel against the table and dust works from the sole of her boots. “They give Normals hope they’ll one day look like them and have camaraderie. Ha!” She barks a laugh. “I think they’re created in a tube too.” Disgust turns up her upper lip. “No one can relate to their beauty.”

  Sean leaves the couch to shuffle through the movies. “The Trade models those fake couples on purpose. It’s for hope and to give those lonely Normals dreams. Just like they make war look fun and sway volunteers with building strong relationships with Creations and Normals before one magical day returning to their normal family.” Sean closes his eyes, viciously swipes across the screen, and smashes down his index finger. The projector flickers on, and a movie plays. “While you two may not be Dyad material, that doesn’t change the way you two look at each other and walk around, acting like no one knows, or we don’t see it.” He slumps back down on the sofa.