by Amy Johnson
Every inch of me burns. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t move. My arms fall limp to my side as my vision swims. The room around me becomes nothing more than a shaking mirage of colors--the muddy water of the river as it swirls downstream.
I can’t look at Cyrus, dead, lying on the table as blood rains down onto the white floor around me. That’s my brother--the one who taught me how to swim by throwing me in the river. He’s my guardian, always standing up for me when the elders push me to go on mission after mission. He paints pictures with words more beautiful than anything ever written. He inspires me to be a firm leader on missions, reminds me never to give up, and pushes me past my fears.
He is long nights spent snuggling together for warmth and broken noses from ice-skating. His hands are the ground he digs through for work--the vitality of an entire population. His earthy green eyes are bedtime stories in Mom’s voice and shooting lessons with Dad. He is learning to dance by standing on his feet, waltzing around an empty tunnel way, and laughing until our sides ache.
He represents everything I have to live for.
When the machine tosses his brain into a trashcan, my stomach opens up and empties itself onto the white tile. I cup both hands over my mouth, gagging at the taste of vomit on my tongue.
I shake my head violently, body shaking as Knox grips me by the armpits and drags me away from the table. I grapple the ground, screeching inhuman sounds as my fingers squeal against the marble.
Without Cyrus, I have nothing.
I have no one.
I scream as Knox lifts me up and flattens my body on another table. His wide hands press down on my shoulders, but the energy to fight back dissipates with every passing second. Tears and blood coat my face and clothes; the weight of it bears down on me with no mercy.
I don’t want to live without Cyrus.
As a human or an Idyllic.
I close my eyes against the light that immerses me, greeted by the overwhelming calm of darkness.
✽✽✽
The sound of water dripping brings me out of my sleep. I peel my eyes open, grimacing at the intense pain moving sends across my body. My skin feels too tight, like a canvas stretched across a wooden frame.
I attempt to tug at the restraints, but the fire spreads through my body, forcing me to lay still. An elephant sits on my chest. Even breathing itself proves to be a chore as I turn my head and look down at myself.
I’m stark naked, stretched across the white mattress like a rabbit for slaughter. Where the gunshot wound was, a metal plate reflects the bright overhead lights. It blends seamlessly with my skin--a gradient fading from silver to white. Through the translucent transition, the new mechanics of my shoulder spin and turn, reacting to my sudden waking.
I move my eyes along my body. What I can see of my skin seems to glitter white, and I am paler than ever before. Peering at the shoulder skin closest to me tells reveals the micro fibers that Null explained would be threaded through my skin. Invisible to the human eye, the plastic fibers catch the light, gleaming like sweat.
“Don’t move too much.”
Null’s trench-like voice breaks my attention away from my new body. I roll my head toward him, fighting against the nausea that rises at the slight movements.
“How do you feel?” he asks, adjusting the restrains.
I open my mouth, only to find that my tongue falls useless in its enclave. The inside of my mouth has turned into a wad of dry cotton, rendering speaking impossible. I open and close my mouth a few times, but the moisture evades me.
“Well, can you at least nod?” Null asks, annoyed. I nod my head, gritting my teeth at the pain that splits my head down the middle.
Head splitting.
Oh, God. Cyrus.
My brother is dead.
“How. Long.” I manage to sputter, taking heaving breaths as the elephant on my chest jumps.
“Oh, you can talk,” Null mutters as he turns his back on me. “It’s been twenty four hours. Your first phase is complete.”
Only one day passed.
Cyrus couldn’t have possibly been so listless and groggy from one day of holding. Did I dream the entire scene?
No, that wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare. Every second of it.
“I’m about to inject the nanos,” Null says as he turns back to me with a syringe the size of his forearm. The silver and white liquids swirl together inside, creating a galaxy in the shades of gray. “You just spent the last twelve hours screaming in pain. Whatever you were dreaming about must’ve been god-awful. It’s only going to get worse from here.”
Cyrus is alive.
It was a dream.
My body relaxes as much as it can against the bed.
Null stands over me, holding the syringe in both hands.
“Brace yourself,” he says, then he plunges the massive needle into my sternum. The now reinforced bone snaps on impact, sending my mind reeling. It feels as if I’ve been hit by a train and am being dragged under it. Fireworks explode behind my closed eyes as liquid fills my chest.
Null yanks the needle back out, and my back arches along with the release. I crash back down onto the rocky mattress. My head falls to one side, void of all energy.
The large Idyllic walks away from me, toward the second table in the room.
What I see surprises me.
Knox lays on the second mattress. Restraints wrap around his shoulders, arms, wrists, legs, and ankles. The extra straps must’ve been added sometime over the past few hours. As I watch, his body shakes and jerks against the soft fabric, and even though his eyes are closed, the creases on his forehead tell a story of horrific pain.
Sweat coats his bare skin, flattening his messy hair against his forehead. His face is pale white; his lips are tinged blue in the bright lights.
Did I look like that?
Null stands over Knox, dangling a long, slender knife in one hand. In one swift motion, he plunges the knife into the boy’s abdomen.
Knox roars in pain, but the gag covering his mouth muffles the animalistic sound. Null places a firm hand on his chest, and his body stops thrashing. The man leans down and carves into Knox’s stomach, hand moving in short, jerking motions.
I force myself to look away as I taste bile rising in my throat.
Am I still in my nightmare?
Knox’s screaming drifts over to me, and a knot of tears join the bile in my throat. After all he did to me, he deserves to hurt. He asked for this. Yet, I wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone. I can’t bring myself to want him to suffer this much.
His betrayal sits in the middle of my chest like a black hole, sucking every happy memory we had built into the abyss. I can see the edges of color as they disappear. The sound of his singing voice hums along with the screeching of the wind inside the endless hole. The feeling of his fingers entangled in mine stings my palms. The heat of his lips on mine burns.
I cling to the corners of time we spent on the grass under the dome, to the words of the poems we shared, and to the feeling of his arm around me in the Underground. His scent lingers on every inch of me as a permanent fixture.
I feel like an idiot for trusting him in the first place, but I can’t forget everything we did together and everything he helped me overcome.
Without Knox, I would have faded out in the Anthros long before I escaped.
“She wasn’t supposed to be harmed. It was part of the deal.”
It was the perfect sacrifice. Everyone I loved for the eternal safety of the one person Knox cared for.
His dull screams bounce around in my head like eternal echoes, only driving the nail home.
I still love him.
I can’t escape it.
Suddenly, pain erupts in my chest. I gasp for air, pulling at the restraints. The liquid that filled my chest before morphs into ants, crawls across my skin, and bores into my new muscles. The tiny organisms spread across my body like glowing embers of fire coating my skin.
I cle
nch my eyes closed tighter as the nanos reach my throat. They block my windpipe like fiery fingers closing in. They drag down my arms and legs, leaving searing pain in their wake. I’ve been doused in acid, shot by a thousand paralyzer bullets, and stabbed on an endless loop.
As the pain increases, I black out again, deafened as Knox’s screams harmonize with my own.
✽✽✽
I’m running through the tulip field, away from the smoke of the city towards a horizon made of cotton candy colors and confetti stars. The flowers part to make room for me, bowing at the waist as I barrel past, pumping my arms at my sides.
Sweat beads down my back.
Behind me, the sounds of the Artificials cascade through the field. The hum of paralyzers, the minute hiss of hydraulics, and the chirping of their language chase after me. Occasionally, a bullet will fly past me, always missing. The air grazes my skin, though, making me only run faster.
With every step the noise grows louder, until mechanical arms wrap themselves around me and I slam into the soft earth under me. The hands surround me, rising up out of the ground and pulling me down, down, down, until I fall through the earth.
When I land, I’m running again.
This time, I hear the maniacal laughter of humans, the pounding of flat feet on the solid ground, and the racing hearts that match my own pounding life force.
I can outrun humans, though.
So, I push myself faster and ignore the burning in my legs, ribs, and lungs.
Still, they catch me, descending upon me with their human hands. Fingernails dig into my skin, rip my hair out of my scalp, and gouge out my eyes. I flail against them, but my hands just sink through theirs, grasping at empty air. A prism of eyes appears in the space around me, and they blink in bloodshot unison as mouths begin to devour me.
I close my eyes and feel myself being pushed into the ground.
I fall again, hitting the ground running.
Now, I limp. My clothes hang off my small frame in ragged ribbons, dripping with thick blood that pours from the scratches that cover me. I stumble blindly though the flowers that have morphed into vines and are grabbing at my ankles.
Dragging my left foot behind me, I glance behind me to see who is chasing me this time.
The decomposing faces of my parents greet me.
My father’s eyes sink into his cheeks; the flesh of his face falls away from the bone like skin peeling from a bad sunburn. His toothless mouth gapes at me as he chases after me, skeletal hands reaching out towards me.
My mother’s midnight-black hair rests in matted patches across her scalp. A gaping hole in her cheek is filled with wriggling maggots and flies. The smell of death breathes from every move she makes. Gaping, fleshy holes litter her arms and legs, revealing ashy bone and rotting muscle.
No matter how fast I run, the horizon evades me still. Something tells me that safety lies on the other side of the field, away from the city and everything I fear. If I could just get there, everything would be okay. I would be safe and happy. Alive and free.
That’s just it, though--the field doesn’t end.
It stretches farther with every clumsy step, every drop of sweat, and every terrified scream.
A vine catches my ankle, sending me face first into the ground. I roll onto my back and scramble backwards on all fours as I watch my dead parents stop running and loom over me.
My entire body trembles as they grab at my legs and arms, digging their nail-less fingers into the fresh wounds from the last chase. They lower their faces and tear through my skin with their toothless mouths, biting off chunks of flesh and muscle with intense strength.
As I scream and thrash under them, the ground becomes mud, and I sink into it. They roar in rage, grabbing at empty air as the ground devours me, depositing me into a new scene.
I’m not running.
I’m burning.
I glance around the room, taking in the sight of my final room from the Anthros. The single bed with its blanket and pillow sit by the cutout window, covered in a thin layer of ash. Blinding walls of fire cover the white concrete bricks and lick the ceiling tiles with demonic orange tongues.
I stand in the center of the room, surrounded on all sides by the ring of fire.
“Eden!”
Knox’s voice fills the room, a window of hope in a dead end situation.
“Knox! Help me!” I scream, inhaling a lungful of smoke. I choke from the inhalation, falling down on my knees as I gasp for breath. Sucking in mouthfuls of poison air, though, only makes the situation worse.
“I’m coming, Eden!”
I smile despite myself, wrapping two sweating arms around myself as I cough. Dry heaving wracks my body in succession with the coughing. The walls close in on me, and the heat from the flames burns my skin. My hair curls at the ends from the proximity, filling the room with the horrid smell.
“Eden!”
I glance up to where Knox stands in the doorway in his Anthros uniform. His multi-colored eyes go wide as he runs over to me, lifting me to my feet and pulling me toward the door.
“Thank you,” I sputter, gripping his waist as I limp beside him.
“Don’t.”
Then, he stops, pushing me away from him and into the nearest wall of fire. The flames jump onto me, walk up my back, and envelope my head. My skin melts under the heat, rolling off the bone as I fall to my knees.
My vision is orange, red, yellow, and black, all at the same time. I blink back the smoke and cover my mouth with a shaking hand as the fire engulfs me. The pain rolls over me in crippling waves. It takes every ounce of strength that remains in my body not to fall flat on my face and give up.
“You should have never trusted me,” Knox says, but the flames muffle his voice. “I’m a human, Eden. Humans are weak.”
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. He continues talking.
“Humans are ignorant.”
“No,” I repeat, a little louder.
“They’re cowards and liars--filthy and disposable.”
I shake my head violently, but the fire wraps itself around my throat.
“All humans deserve to be harvested, Eden. You’re doing the world a service. You’re doing them a service.”
“No,” I croak, falling forward onto my hands as the pain increases. My clothes lay around me in charred black piles.
“As an Idyllic, you will hunt humans.” I shake my head, unable to take my eyes off of him. “You will capture, torture, and harvest humans because the machines need them to pay off their debt. Then, we can truly be free. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
I swallow back the desert in my mouth and attempt to form words with my lead tongue. When I open my mouth, he smirks, raising his eyebrows at me.
“Got something to say, Eden?”
“Yes,” I say, forcing whatever air is left in my lungs out. “I never wanted this. You’re wrong.” I take a shaky breath, spitting a mouthful of ash onto the ground. “Torture me all you want. I will never do what you ask. I’ll never be one of you.”
Knox laughs, throwing his head back toward the ceiling.
The flames sprout higher around me and I clench my eyes closed tight against them. Every inch of me melts away and I fall against the seared carpet of the floor. The blackened threads dig into my blistered skin that oozes as I let it take me.
Like before, the solid ground turns into a softer surface, and I sink into it like falling through cooling water. The fire goes out around me and I float on my stomach, eyes still closed. The water around me pulsates gently like tiny streams, turning the blisters into scars and then pushing the scars away.
My body comes to rest on a hard surface coated in coarse fabric. My hair drifts down to crown my chilled face.
I open one eye at a time, taking in the smiling face of Null--my creator and master.
Chapter 18: Rejuvenated
Eden
“Don’t move.”
Null’s voice echoes between my ears,
too loud for them to handle. He takes a step away from me and reaches to pull back the restraints. The weight falls away, but my body remains glued to the table.
“My name is Null,” he says, and I narrow my eyes at him. Why is he telling me things I already know? “Your name is Drei. From this moment forward, you will introduce yourself as such. The name you held as a human doesn’t belong to you anymore. Forget it. Understand?”
I grapple through the files of memories in my head, desperate to find the name he’s talking about. ‘Drei’ doesn’t have the right ring to it; that’s not my name.
Now, it has to be, though.
Whatever I was before slipped away like a vapor curling out of the street grates in the cold winter air.
“What’s your name, Idyllic?” Null asks, gripping my shoulder and pulling me into a sitting position.
My tongue sits in the bottom of my mouth like an anchor. I curl it a few times and re-orient myself with the profound muscle. As I open my mouth, the thoughts rearrange themselves into letters and sounds. They sit on the edge of the anchor, waiting for me to shove them out.
“My name is Drei,” I say, in a voice that can only be described as velvet. It isn’t my voice, not the one I remember anyway. In the memories pushed back to damp corners of my new information library, my voice used to hold an uneven tone, sometimes dropping octaves and other times jumping into major tones.
This voice, though, is designer. My voice box drips with honey and sweet smelling nectar, breathing forth shades of violet and salmon pink.
“And how old are you, Drei?” Null asks, one hand still clamped on my shoulder.
“Seventeen,” I say, blinking at him. The weight of my eyelids surprises me, and I blink several more times in order to feel the pounding of the two together.
“Good. Now, stand, but be careful.”
Null holds my elbow in a firm grip as I swing both of my legs off the bed and place them on the cold tile below. I wince against the ice shards shooting up my legs, but Null only laughs and pull me into a standing position. The cold air of the room wraps itself around me and goosebumps spread across my body.