He sits forward, his face twisting oddly, his scowl conveying insult. “You were not created to question our decisions. We understand you have your own mind, your own thought processes.” He points his finger at me, elbow rested on his knee. “That does not mean you need to use it. You were created to fight for us, our land and our freedom. It is what you were designed for. Deserve,” he hisses with disgust. “There isn’t even a need to thank you for what you are supposed to do. We do not owe you anything special for doing what you were created to do. Your monthly payments to your depository and families are reimbursement enough.”
I’m insulted. We are nothing to them. To anyone. Not the Vojin, not our country, not the Trade. “As told by the Guidance, we are the best of what the America has to offer.”
“The best the America has. There was a requirement for the Trade. Things have changed, lives have changed, and people have changed. With the Vojin, more and more people are dying every day, including Creations.” I peep a word, and he shuts me up with the flick of his hand. “Your parents would be glad to know their child, unlike other Creations, has a voice. You are different from a lot of the other Creations. You and Luke. Which was expected.”
I scoot to the edge of the sofa. “What do you mean by that? Expected?”
He stands, grabbing his earpiece from the table. “Do not engage in relations with Cory Braden, the previous captain of this sector. A watch was placed, and he is the eye of many, not only the Trade.” He hits a button on his earpiece as he slides it back on his ear. “I am to return,” he says to whoever speaks to him. “Kylie Alexander has been spoken with. And warned.” He looks me in my eyes. “Do we have an understanding?”
Hell no! Absolutely not. We do not have any understanding! I stand, snap my boots together, and draw my arms behind my back. Holding my head high, I nod once. “Yes, sir.”
“Escort me to the door.”
“Yes, sir.” Grandin is a skinny man with blond eyebrows, showing his actual hair color is not the black he wears. His clothes are tailored to fit his body as all Trade members are. Usually, the Trade does not speak directly to soldiers. They usually do not address any of us. Messages, orders, and instructions are passed through the Guidance, from the Guidance to our general, and from the general to us.
He knows something; his insinuation revealed a lot, but too little. Everything and everyone keep bringing up our parents. Separation is supposed to be simple, like the life of a Creation. I shouldn’t have to deal with jigsaw puzzles, word problems, and pop-up visits. I’m getting all these questions with no way of answering them.
I stay in and wait for Luke to return. With everyone in our home gone for Citizen Management, it makes the house the perfect meeting spot.
The door opens and Luke says, “Luke.”
“I’m in the den,” I call. “You will never guess what just happened to me.”
He comes around the corner, eyebrows high and eyes wide, ready for me to tell the story. “You had even more of a day? After being turned into a Zombie,” he asks with knit brows.
“Trade Officer Grandin stopped by.”
“What?” his voice rises an octave. “I didn’t see anyone.”
“Well…” I roll my eyes. “He was here. It was pretty weird too, because the things he said didn’t seem important enough to bring them down from the island.” I throw up a finger, starting with my thumb, as I list off his topics, “Warning against relations, telling me to stay away from Cory. They know his secrets and must be using him. But forget about that,” I say, waving my hands as I sit up from the sofa. “In a light voice, he said, ‘You are different from a lot of the other Creations. You and Luke. Which was expected.’ That our parents would be proud I have a voice unlike other Creations.”
Luke grumbles, dramatically shaking his head. “Don’t tell me you spoke out of turn to the Trade.”
I purse my lips, shrugging. “He said we don’t mean anything to them.”
“Bullshit. We mean everything to them, or they would let us have lives and do what the hell we want to do. So…we are expected to be different…Do you feel any different?”
I shake my head.
“Did he happen to hint to you anything about that note? Did he mention our parents?”
“The only thing he said about our parents was what I just told you. But my voice, which I’m assuming he was implying I was expressive, effectively conveying thought or feeling.”
“I know what expressive means, Ky,” he drones.
“Right, well. He said I shouldn’t use it. The only other thing was he mentioned they were researching the Vojin, giving me even more reason to think that letter is connecting our parents with the Vojin and the Trade. We just need to find out how.”
Luke rubs his hand over his shaggy hair. He’s in desperate need of a haircut. Sean usually cuts it for him, but Sean is gone and there’s no telling when he’ll be back. “Are you, too, getting the feeling everyone else knows something about us we don’t?”
“More and more every day. And I think Seits is lying.” I lower my voice to a whisper, “When they turned me into a Zombie, they filled three vials with my blood, Luke. They know…”
Luke’s eyes narrow. He leans his shoulder against the doorframe of the den, drawling, “Questions will draw suspicion.”
“How do we get answers to questions we can’t ask?”
“We don’t. They’ll reveal it like they’ve been doing. Slowly? Maybe. But we’ll find out soon enough. Anything hiding in the dark is sure to come to light. Even us.”
“You’re talking crazy, Luke. If we’re discovered, it’ll be worse than death.”
Luke shrugs one shoulder. “Just be ready to fight, Ky. Because if you’re right, and Seits knows, there’s only a matter of time before they come for us.”
Chapter Eighteen
Time drags as we train and wait for the return of the Creations who departed for Citizen Management around the America and those who left to call a truce with the other countries. A month is too long for them to be gone and Luke won’t give me any updates except, “everyone is doing fine and getting their jobs done.”
I’m stuck here, training the Normals on how to fight Zombies. I wish I could tell them about the Vojin so I can hear their ideas on how they would take down such creatures. But the generals haven’t given us the okay for that yet.
In order for us to go against the Vojin, we’d need to side with them so we’d get the opportunity to learn their weaknesses. The Vojin are intelligent beings, never allowing us to travel to their home. They limit the information provided about their kind, only keeping us privy to the plan. Our training material has taught us to know our enemy, be an insurgent if needed. The Vojin never gave us that opportunity. And it’s sad we’re just now realizing they’ve been dragging us along with empty promises and misleading orders.
The excessive heat warnings continue for another week. We’re seeing temperatures as high as one hundred and twenty. Without the obstacle course, track, and target course, I’m running out of things to teach the Normals. They need to get dirty, lose their breath, fight in the field until someone draws blood. They’re getting bored too. Honestly, we should be gone by now, off to fight for the America. But the Zombies have changed everything.
Since they bombed the hole, there haven’t been any daytime Zombie attacks, and the constant day and night sweeps have been successful in keeping them away from the base.
It’s so safe, the Trade made an appearance. I am in awe that a Trade Officer stopped by. They never leave their sky towers in Highrum where their base-sized island hovers over the busiest city in the America where the wealthy and gifted reside.
Scientists, doctors, and educators roam their crowded streets, smiles washing their neighborhood as they carry out their daily tasks without a care in the world. Their children are raised without a concern of Separation or fear of death. They have children, the normal way. These Normals have the privilege of caring for their offspring fro
m birth to adulthood, and those privileged ticks live a life that more than half of this world could never dream of. They hug their parents, relax their shoulders as they stroll the streets, laugh freely, don’t care about being watched or seen doing something restricted, they love…They love their person of interest freely and forever if they want.
A freedom such as that is too far out of my reach.
I sigh, looking over the crowd of privates staring up at me. “Review?” I ask them.
“No,” Christian says. “Can you tell us what you expected when you came to Separation?”
A lot of chatter erupts following his request, agreeing with his query. They’ve been training all day, hand to hand combat and target practice here in the training hall. Most of them are drenched in sweat, others are ready for another round, getting a little antsy as they encourage me to answer Christian’s question.
“Okay, calm down,” I say loudly. “I will discuss it.” Once they quiet, I offer, “It was expected that we would train and then fight in the wars. The wars are against the other countries so we can keep our land and our power. It never stops. As the sea water continues to rise, citizens of the country continue to destroy their towns, and population increase, land is becoming sparse. The other countries are greedy, and if the America lets up for a second, our country will be wiped right out from under us. We didn’t know about the Zombies until weeks after we arrived to Separation.”
“What was your first reaction to the Zombies?” asks a girl wearing a big puffy ponytail.
“Shock,” I say wide-eyed, rubbing the front of my neck. “They were like nothing I’ve ever seen before. They’re monsters I don’t understand,” I add, an edge of uneasiness creeping in my tone and raising my voice an octave.
“What do you think will come of us if we go against them?” Renae is her name, I think. She’s from Sean’s group. Sitting on her knees, she crosses her arms. “After what happened with the Zombies on base, we’ve all been wondering.”
I ask, “Us? You mean you? Non-Creations?”
“Yes,” Multiple people respond.
“The same as Creations. If you are scratched, bitten, spit on, or infected by them in any way, you turn into one of them.”
“And you kill us?”
A large black figure in my periphery catches my eye from the only window in the training hall. A bus is pulling in. Turning back to the impatient faces, I say, “Yes, we will kill. And you shouldn’t feel bad about that. Because if it were our own twin…we would kill them too.” Another bus pulls up behind the first.
My friends and the other Creations are back! It’s going to be so nice to get rid of this large team. There are too many people to keep up with.
Although Fein thinks I hate her for being a traitor, she’s missed too.
A slender boy with draping blond hair raises his hand, asking, “If you lose your twin, then you are like us, right?”
Uncontrollably, my gaze flicks to Edward. Though his eyes are still blue, where they were once as vibrant as a bright blue sky, they’re now cloudy—in pain. I swallow hard and force myself to answer, “Yes.” Sweeping my hand from left to right, I instruct, “Talk amongst yourselves. I’ll be back.”
Creations are pouring out of three buses, filling the air with red dust and crowding the open roads. I scan the faces, spotting Fein as she spots me. I smile, waving to her. She runs over. “Hey,” she hugs me quickly.
“How was it?” I ask.
Nodding, an indifferent smile smooths her lips into a thin line. “It was bad. But we took care of it.”
“Where were you drafted?”
Fein’s orange eyes grow brighter as she smiles wider. “We went to Oregon. It was practically burned to the ground.”
“The entire state?”
“Yes. It wasn’t as bad as I may be making it seem, but the humans there were out of control.” Oregon is—was—an average state. Only five males resided there with the females. Like the Dakotas, the Carolinas, and Oklahoma, they bred for workers whose occupation would be to construct and build. “It’s nonexistent. There was nothing to save. The remaining citizens who showed no signs of the infection and who didn’t go against management were transferred to California. After that, we had an emergency evacuation of Nevada. The undead had taken over. We dropped in, saved the remaining citizens, and burned it down. They haven’t said if they will keep that state or not.”
I shrug. “They may not.”
“How’s it been here?”
“Things have been quite interesting around here. We can get into details later. Come get your group so they can get away from me.” I turn on my heels, heading back to the training room.
“You had everyone’s Normals while we were gone?”
“Yes, I did. Who else is back?”
“Um, I’m not sure. Look, Ky,” she pulls me to a stop. “Thank you for what you are doing. I mean it.”
I turn away from her, continuing onward. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Fein.” I keep my back to her as I mention, “If I were you, I would stay away from Cory.”
She clears her throat, letting me know I was heard, but she doesn’t question it.
We walk into the training hall, and her group jumps to their feet, cheering as they run to her. She joins in, pumping her fists in the air as they hoot her name. Without waiting for my dismissal, they leave, and I couldn’t care less.
Two more buses pull in as Luke enters the training hall. With five long strides to the center of the room, he steals everyone’s attention. He announces, “The last of today’s Leader and Creation arrivals are coming in. If you are a member of Floyd’s team, he will meet you in here. He should be here shortly. If you are on Marc or Sean’s team, they will meet you in your recreation hall. Head there now. Joyce and Jace will meet in the rec hall too. Those of their groups can stick around for thirty minutes and then head over.”
Those instructed slowly climb to their feet but rush from the room. I’m relieved the pressure is off my shoulders. The twenty-some-odd group members of my own are enough, and I’ve fallen behind on checking in on their emotional states and strengthening progress.
Floyd comes in, and his group cheers as they go to him. Seems they were happy to get away from me as well.
“My group,” I call over the chatter, “is done for the day.” Turning to Luke, I ask, “What are you about to do?”
“I have to check in with the captains who are still gone to see when they will return. Then I’ll go out with Harold to check the new labs. Then I’ll follow up with the captains and privates. You’ll be in attendance for it. We have to discuss the game plan for the threat with Jord.”
“Cool. I’m going to lunch. Come find me later.”
Chapter Nineteen
Sitting on the floor with my knees propped up, I look up at Jord as he discusses the Vojin’s threat, and finally, what we plan to do about it. For years, living uneducated, I’ve taken everyone for their word. Now, I’ll study facial expressions. I’ll work harder to read between the lines. I’m tired of having this wool pulled over my eyes.
“We have confirmation the outsiders will attempt to go to war against us. No one is prepared for this yet.” Sir Jord takes a pause and looks over the unfazed faces of the captains and privates of our division. We sit among each other in the leader rec hall, each eagerly awaiting the ‘go,’ we’ve been itching to hear since we arrived. “Many other countries have agreed to fight with us against them. Over the next few weeks, we will strategize and come up with ways to defeat this enemy who was once our ally.”
Before continuing, he makes direct eye contact with a few Creations. His eyes narrow slightly when he does this, but I cannot look to see who they are without giving myself away that I noticed this brief gesture.
“The Trade believes there may be implants from the outsiders among us.” His voice rises an octave, grudgingly stating, “Creations who stand with us but not for us. And these implants,” he spits the word, “wh
o wear our numbers and spoke our vows, will fight against us at the time of war.” He bows his head, and his next words start as a murmur then rise with such triumph, it pumps adrenaline through my veins. “Here is a warning that will only be stated once. If there are any implants in this sector, and you are found out, the rules for a Creation’s protection won’t apply here. You will be executed publicly so everyone knows you will never come in our house, pretend to be one of us, all to turn against us! We do not tolerate traitors. Respond!”
“We understand!”
“As you were.” Jord leaves, and chatter erupts through the rec hall.
I move from the floor to the table as we all space out and return to our activities.
Collins is the first at our table to speak, as expected. “Implants with us?” she asks, staggered.
“Unbelievable,” Cecilia seconds her.
“Kylie,” Seits calls, standing behind me. “I’d like to speak with you after dinner.”
An uneasy feeling makes me queasy. “Okay,” I agree in a strong tone. Tonight, she might make me do a sweep with her, Cory, Hanley, and Jord. The four of them may hold me down while a Zombie comes to bite me, and they’ll leave me stranded in the desert as I turn into a monster until the Vojin come to save me. All so they can prove I’m an implant. “I will meet you in your office.”
She nods once and walks away. Luke, Sean, and Marc enter as she exits. They sit, lunch trays smacking the table. Marc sits next to me, and finally, the sun comes out and brightens the dreariness of my last few weeks. I suck in a lungful of this fresh air, and I hope. I don’t look at him or noticeably acknowledge his presence. I simply find his hand resting on the bench. He moves his fingers between mine and holds my hand tightly. I let out the breath I held and allow my shoulders to relax.
The Separation Trilogy Box Set: Books 1 -3 Page 44