The Separation Trilogy Box Set: Books 1 -3

by Felisha Antonette

  “Yes.” As if I would answer any other way.

  He opens a door to a room painted light green. The air is warm and sticky and smells of an odd chemical. Six posts protrude from the floor, and on their tops are domes inclosing infants. Carden goes to one of them, and on a screen connected to the post, he taps it. The glass of the dome opens, exposing the infant. Carden picks up the child and cradles it close to his chest, staining his black shirt with the slimy clear fluid dripping from the baby.

  I grab the nearest gloves available when he nears me with it.

  “No. Put the gloves down,” Carden orders.

  “I can’t touch that,” I say, shaking my head as I retract a step. I’m overcome with nervousness at just the thought of holding something so fragile. I’d break it or drop it or something.

  He wraps the baby in a blanket he grabs from a shelf on the post. “Here.” He cautiously passes me the baby.

  I’m hesitant taking it, cupping my arm around its tiny body as its head rests against my muscle. The baby yawns, and its tiny fist rises, breaking out of the blanket. The green-colored embellishment on its wrist glistens in the light above us. I gently brush my index finger over it.

  “It’s soft and smells like recycled oxygen,” I mutter. I’ve held a baby, but this baby is not normal. Its fist opens, and I take it, examining its unusual palm. It has the same large circle with the smaller ones scattered throughout its middle, like mine, but the color throws me off. “Why are this baby’s hands green?”

  “Are you being a Creation, examining the soft side of life when you are supposed to just accept it?”

  “I believe I should take that as an insult,” I say, watching the baby yawn again. I try to look down its throat, but its mouth closes too fast.

  “Are you comfortable holding the child?”

  “No, I’d like to understand more about it.”

  “He is a boy.”

  “Okay.” I hold its hand in mine, comparing our palms. “It’s a Creation?”

  “He is a Creation.” Carden takes the baby from me. I go to the dome beside me and cautiously take the baby from it like he did, using a blanket I take from the shelf. This Creation child is a girl. Her embellishments are colored yellow.

  “I didn’t bring you here to examine the babies. But I guess some things are not easy for a Creation to adapt or adjust to.”

  I put the baby back in the dome, and it seals shut. All six babies are calm, eyes closed, sleeping. “Excuse me,” I say, acknowledging his discomfort. “I don’t do well with things I don’t understand.”

  Carden presses his lips together and glances at the infants. He sucks in a breath and loudly releases it. “We should go. There is minimal time left for us to prepare for the celebration.”

  I soften my expression, asking, “Have I made you uncomfortable, Carden?”

  He goes to a sink and scrubs his hands clean. I do the same, looking for him to answer. “I guess I expected another reaction from you. Creations, they look like everyone else. Why can’t they be like everyone else?”

  Offended, I say, “What? You want us to embrace all the terrible stuff that goes on in this country? You want us to awe and be jolly? Do you want me to see these infants and wonder about their future or swoon over how cute they are? Because that’s what Normals do?”

  “No,” he snaps, crossing the floor to me. “I want you to see that everything isn’t structured. That everything doesn’t end in a period or a question mark. That everything is greater than this moment.”

  I snatch a towel from a nearby shelf and dry my wet hands. “Well, if you have a problem with the way we were created, then maybe you should change it.”

  He utters under his breath, “I did.” Speaking louder, he continues, “These beautiful boys and girls will not only protect and serve our country, but they will consider life. They will look upon babies and acknowledge their innocence and beauty because they’ll know they’ll have bright futures. When they see Waulers lying in the street, they won’t dispose of them, but build them a home and get them off the streets.”

  I throw my hand up, silencing his stupidity. “Have you ever thought, for a moment, that Creations follow orders? We don’t make the calls for population demolition. Those come from your people. If the order came for us to build houses and get every Wauler off the street, we’d do that. If the order came for us to feed the hungry, we’d do that too. If they trained us to look at babies and people as flesh and heartbeats instead of occupants of a falling country, we’d do that too. But your mother has desired the opposite. So don’t turn your lip up at me because I am the way I am. I was created this way, and they,” I point to his science projects, “will be this way too.” I stalk out of the room, breathing away my anger. I’m not the bad guy. They are. The Guidance, the Trade, the Vojin. I only follow orders. I only do as I’m told. All of them are the enemy.

  I march down the hall to the elevators. The doors part as soon as I smash the down button. I step in, still feeling the infant cradled against my arms. “Lobby,” I say, and the elevator descends. The softer side of life? I guess this is really moments that makes someone happy, that slows them down and makes them embrace the experience. That, for me, isn’t holding infants. Carden playing the piano, though. This took me out of the havoc of this world to a place of peace, if only for a second. Tranquil: free from disturbance; calm. But like everything else that brings me joy, it couldn’t last.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “I cannot believe the Premier got that intoxicated,” Seits laughs, plopping down onto her seat of the jet that’s flying us back home tonight. She’s had five glasses of wine too many.

  I am the only sober one on this flight besides the pilots.

  “Shh, Seits,” Jord hushes her. She giggles. “That is the last time you will be taking a drink.”

  “I think you should say,” Luke belches, “that is the last time you will consume any alcoholic beverages.”

  We were cordially invited to a charade of music and drinking. Minimal dancing, and I was happy for it because it reduced the opportunity for Carden to touch me. The party started off calm and informal. The music was peaceful, and if it had played in my bedroom, I would have fallen asleep to it. A sinless melody of pianos and violins, which Carden assisted in playing. I thought it was going to be a nice relaxing event with swaying dancing and pleasant greetings. It wasn’t.

  Carden and I walked through the oversized double doors of the ballroom after Luke and Sandy. Everyone made it their business to speak to us, expressing kind words, constantly touching my exposed arms, hugging and kissing me after mentioning how beautiful Carden and I were together and how phenomenal I looked out of my suit.

  They were constantly in Luke’s face, and my cheeks burned with extreme embarrassment. When I wouldn’t change from the color of Jord’s date’s hair, people finally thought it would be a good idea to relax. Carden constantly rubbed my arm or my back as Arletta instructed him to do so, and he wasn’t opposed to it.

  It was when everyone started drinking that things went haywire. I don’t know what was in the punch, but it had them acting like wild animals. They were dancing on the tables, stripping, singing off-key to wordless music, gyrating on their dance partners. I’ve never seen adults act this way. I’m blaming it on the alcohol.

  After the heated discussion with Carden, I thought the evening would be awkward with him, but it was kind of fun. We laughed together, making fun of the crazies and sharing snacks. He talked more about some of the pictures on the walls and discussed his upcoming role as Citizen Guidance Leader, where he will be required to maintain and keep track of the citizens of the America. He would have power over how they’re managed and protected.

  Carden was good company; he just has an unusual way of thinking. He is passionate about his idea of minimal destruction to have people establish their own reconstruction, where the America will bring itself together as he’d seen it done in the past. If it does work, the past has also
shown those moments are only temporary. So what will he do, destroy something else?

  It’s late now, a couple hours after the ending of the Premiers party.

  Highrum’s helper Creations finish loading the last few crates packed with the new guns and bullets that we’ll need to kill the Vojin. We’ll soon be preparing for takeoff and will land back in Desert Hills at the butt crack of dawn. Jord will call a meeting tomorrow to discuss our mission, and my adrenaline is pumping with anticipation to take out the Vojin.

  “Did you all enjoy yourselves?” Jord asks as the jet starts to move.

  “I did,” Luke says calmly. “I may have…” his words slur into jumbles that I can’t make out.

  “Um-humph,” Jord says. “Me too.” We sit in sets of two, Jord and Seits sitting across from Luke and me.

  Luke’s head hits the window. I lift and gently adjust him to lean against my shoulder.

  I can’t wait to get back and see Marc’s face when he sees my dress and the outfit I got him. I have this crazy idea that maybe we can sneak out to one of the smaller rec halls and have dinner, then we’ll go to the hall for a movie, then climb to the roof of one of the buildings to lie back and look at the stars. All with Seits’s help, which she agreed to.

  She’s siding with me so that I’ll side with her on the Vojin thing, or maybe she’s just this nice. The dinner and movie were her suggestions, and she made sure to warn me to be careful of the Zombies and the cameras. I appreciate her help because I want the night to be perfect for him.

  I lug Luke into the house, trying to keep it quiet because it’s so late. We enter noiselessly. The horn may blow in the next five hours, and I am aching to get some sleep. My feet hurt from the heeled shoes I was obligated to wear. I was more than happy to trade them for my boots after the party, but hauling Luke’s two hundred and ten pounds brings back the sore memory.

  Dragging Luke to his room, I take off his vest and boots after I’ve laid him on his bed. He turns over on his stomach and breathes deeply, out like a light. I shed my vest, outer shirt, and boots before lying next to him and placing my head against his shoulder.

  The instant I close my eyes and drift, the horns blare.

  Luke groans loudly in my ear. I match his irritation. “Come on, Luke.” I pry his arm from my head. “Let’s go.”

  He grumbles indistinct words.

  “I don’t understand, Luke. Get up.” I pull his leg after I’ve moved from the bed.

  He sits up, holding his head with one hand and rubbing his eye with the other. “What’s today?”

  “Monday.”

  “Not Wednesday?”

  I shake my head. “And not Thursday. Get up. We have work to do.”

  After I shower and dress, I head back to Luke’s room to make sure he’s up. He’s sitting on his bed and has changed at least.

  “Are you ready?” I ask. We have training today.

  “No,” Luke says, standing.

  “This is what you get for drinking and making me help the four of us off the jet, into the truck, drive us to the base, and carry your heavy ass up those stairs.” I shove him from his room and down the stairs to the front door.

  “Thanks for all that, Ky.” He’s sluggish, and I want to slap him across the face to wake him up.

  We walk to the mess hall, and he goes straight for a table, laying his head down. I gather him some food and two bottled waters. “Here, Luke,” I say when I sit. “This should help with your hangover.” He takes the contents. Getting back up to get my own food, I run into Seits.

  “Kylie,” she says cheerfully. “I wanted to let you know the Guidance will be away tonight.” She raises her eyebrows and tips her head down a bit. “You still wanted to go out?” she asks slowly before looking away. I follow her gaze, and it lands on Marc. He’s sitting, talking to Sean.

  We turn back to each other. I get it. Tonight is the night to go on my ‘date.’ I nod, smiling. “Okay.”

  “Do you know when?”

  I pinch my nose. “I’m not sure. Haven’t talked to him yet.”

  She nods quickly. “Tell him nine. Everyone will start winding down by then, and you can sneak out,” she whispers.

  I fight my smile, but I can feel my cheeks blush. “Okay. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll see you later. Oh, I’ve added a little twist in the movie room. No roof.” She leaves the mess hall, humming to herself.

  I have a well-thought-out plan for this evening, and with Seits’s help, I hope it will be perfect. I pile my breakfast on my plate and squeeze between Marc and Sean at their table.

  Marc wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me to him while turning me in to his hug. I hug him as he says in my ear, “Hey. I missed you.”

  I kiss his neck and say, “I missed you too.” I lean away slightly so I can speak near his ear. “Don’t get weird about it, but I got you something.”

  He leans back, holding my eye contact. “What?”

  I can’t fight the smile, so I look away from him, whispering, “I’ll give it to you at a quarter to nine, then we are going to leave the house.” I look back at him. “Just say okay.”

  He licks his lips, and after gazing at me for too long, he says, “Okay.”

  I eat as the jitters in my stomach make me aware of their presence.

  “You were gone, Ky,” Collins says, pointing her fork at me.

  “I know,” I tell her, drinking my milk. Blinking, I hold back my smart remark.

  “Well, where’d you go?”

  “Don’t talk to me.” I don’t like her. She shot my brother, she’s disrespectful, and she purposely tries to push my buttons.

  Collins smacks her lips. “Kylie, what happened was like three days ago. Stop holding grudges. I’m not holding a grudge against you after you tried to kill me. I didn’t even retaliate.”

  “When did you try to kill her?” Sean asks excitedly, fork dropping to his plate.

  “Before we left,” I tell him. “She shot Luke, so I shot her.”

  “The bitch didn’t just shoot me. She shot me in my head and almost killed me!”

  “And if you don’t watch your mouth,” I warn, “I just may do it again.” I leave the table as the horn calls the end of breakfast.

  My group is already walking to the fields. Today I want them to work out and include jumping rope and mountain climbing in their cardio routines. I run to them. “Hey! Weight room,” I tell them. We jog the half mile to the weight room and enter, immediately relishing the blasting air conditioning.

  “Who helped you all while I was gone?” I ask.

  “Collins,” Jesail tells me.

  “What’d she teach you?”

  “Nothing. Fought against Sean’s team all day,” Jesail says, rolling her eyes. “Collins didn’t care about what we did. She was barely paying us any attention as her team fought Marc’s, and she flirted with him.”

  “You should’ve kicked her teeth out. Bet that would’ve grabbed her attention,” I say under my breath.

  Jesail chuckles. “I hate her too.” She preps a barbell, and I stand behind the bench to spot her.

  Danny jogs over. “I think I’m ready to go out for the male leader position.” Danny has picked up a few pounds of muscle since he arrived; he sounds more confident and has won every battle I put him up against.

  I survey him and really consider if he’s ready for this role. “You look physically ready, but what’s your mental state? How bad do you want it? What are your fears? What’s keeping you from accomplishing your goals, and who or what is your priority? The reason for the last question is because you don’t have a twin. So the answer should be yourself.” He nods, and I continue, “Creations are all about our twins, but we are also arrogant, not self-centered but twin-centered. My twin and I are the best at what we do. Nothing and no one is stronger than us, and nothing and no one can overcome us.”

  He stretches his arms, watching Jesail press one hundred-sixty pounds. “And I would say, I am
the best at what I do, nothing and no one is stronger than me, and nothing can overcome me.”

  “Exactly. How strong are you?” He shrugs. “Strong enough to conquer any and all things should be your answer.” I tap my head. “Remember, as you think, so you are.”

  “Stronger than what I should be.” He tries his answer again.

  “That works too.”

  “Can you fight?”

  “Anything.”

  “Good response. How do you feel about implants?”

  He stalls. “Kill them,” he says with uncertainty.

  “They should be disposed of,” I correct. “You may be challenged to fight. They may want to make sure you aren’t afraid to shoot someone.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Good. Our general is not the easiest to persuade. I’ll put in a word for you the next time we have a meeting. There has been a lot going on with these Zombies and implants and the Guidance popping up, but once I’m able to talk to him, I’ll let you know. If there is someone else in line for the same position, you may have to fight for it.” Danny nods. “Okay, go convince one of the Creations to let you use them for target practice.”

  I pat Jesail’s shoulder, letting her know that’s enough. “Go jump rope for thirty minutes.”

  I spot Edward going a few rounds with a punching bag. Rounding the bag, I hold it for him. “You okay?”

  “No. But I will be. I don’t want your pity.” He jabs and jabs, throwing bone-breaking blows against the bag.

  “I’m not here to pity you. I’m being a friend. Here to let you let it out if you need someone to talk to.”

  He grabs the bag by its sides and rests his sweaty forehead to its ripped leather. “I miss my brother is all. I feel half empty.”

  “Sorry, Edward,” I say. I try to think of something else. Maybe I could tell him his brother was a hero, but that would be a lie. I could tell him he’s in a better place, like they do in movies, but I don’t know that for sure. Maybe I could tell him to focus on being alive, but that seems heartless as he mourns his brother’s death. Coming up with nothing, I rub his back. My touch doesn’t seem soothing. It’s rough at first, but I lighten it by letting my hand somewhat caress his back. “You’ll be fine. You’re strong and a fighter. He went in battle; he was strong and will not be forgotten.”