Conflicted: Book Two of the State Series

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Conflicted: Book Two of the State Series Page 8

by M. J. Kaestli


  “Is this your new routine?” Chastity asked as Freya opened the door.

  “Sorry. I’m not making you late, am I?”

  “No, it is fine. I was actually curious how you are getting up so early with no alarm.”

  “I don’t know,” Freya responded, genuinely starting to question this herself. “I guess I should request an earlier alarm as I need to exercise in the mornings now due to my evening trainings.”

  “Perhaps it is time for us to move back to our own apartments,” Chastity said.

  The statement surprised Freya. It was not as though she expected to live with Chastity forever, but she had become so accustomed to having her there.

  “The purpose of us living together was so that I could help care for you. I think you are perfectly capable of caring for yourself now,” she explained. “I noticed that you stopped taking your medication.”

  “I didn’t even realize I had stopped. I must have forgotten about it or something.”

  “It’s not a bad thing, Freya. If you haven’t been taking it, it means you don’t really need it. You have bounced back from the dome attack so quickly—I think you must be healing well from everything else also.”

  Freya thought for a moment. It was true, she was feeling much better. Every time she thought about Colin, there was a stabbing pain in her gut. The pain was still there, yet it was not constant—as consuming as it had been before. She felt as though her life could not possibly go on when he had first left. Now, it was more like an injury that she became aware of when she moved in a certain way.

  “It’s kind of weird. I have gotten so used to having you around, I’m kind of sad to not be with you all the time anymore.”

  Chastity smiled and grabbed her hand. “I have grown so attached to you also. Sometimes I think this is what it would be like to have a sister, and sometimes when you weren’t doing well, I thought it was what it would be like to have a child. I care for you deeply—I will miss having you so close also. Even if we live in separate apartments, we still live in the same house. I will be right down the hall if you ever need me.” She pulled Freya into a hug.

  To Freya’s own surprise, a few tears crept up on her and rebelliously escaped her eyes. “Thank you for everything. I don’t know how I would have gotten through this without you,” she said into Chastity’s shoulder. “You have been there for me in ways my own mother has never been, and I do often think of you as my sister.”

  “We are family now, living in the same house, even though we will have our own space.” Chastity grabbed her hand, giving a reassuring squeeze. “Off with you now, we both have busy schedules to attend to.”

  Freya nodded and headed out to the grounds, working at a quicker pace than usual. It was not that there was a pressing need for anything in particular to get done; she just wanted to ensure that she did not fall behind on her work. If she could learn to quicken her pace, then perhaps she would have more time for training in the evening.

  The day passed quickly, and it was time for her to change and head down to meet Lewis. The new apartment assigned to her was the very apartment which contained the secret stairwell. She scanned in and the door opened for her. Clothing had already been brought in, and was hanging in the small closet, which made her feel as though this apartment was truly hers.

  It only made logical sense to move her into this apartment, she would be heading down for training every single night—to an area which Security had no domain over.

  The apartment was standard for independent living. There was a sofa that changed to a bed, a kitchen area, a desk, and small bathroom with a shower stall. The desk was placed right in front of the window.

  Freya had never really used the desk when she lived in her apartment while being educated. She usually preferred to sit on the sofa. As she gazed out the window that overlooked the gardens, however, she knew this would be where she would spend what little free time she had.

  She changed clothing quickly, opened the trapdoor, and headed down the stairs. The hallways were beginning to look more familiar. She didn’t question herself as much finding the training area this time. Once at the door, she knocked, and Lewis called out to her to come inside. He was at the desk, working on a tablet, which he placed on the desk as he greeted her.

  “Good evening, Freya,” he said formally and then stood. His clothing was different today than it had been before. Instead of a military uniform, he wore exercise clothing just like she did—but it didn’t quite look the same. His t-shirt clung more securely to his muscular frame, leaving a little less to one’s imagination. It’s probably difficult to get clothing in his size, she surmised, and tried her best to keep her eyes directed at his.

  “Hi, Lewis.”

  “Are you ready for tonight?”

  “I think I would have to train with someone else for a few years before I was ready for a fight with you,” she replied, dripping with sarcasm.

  He rolled his eyes, gave his head a shake and smiled. “You don’t have to beat me—you just have to get past me.”

  “Thanks, but that doesn’t sound any easier to me.”

  “Let’s get started then.” He gestured for her to follow him into a different room near the shooting range. The room had a soft, matted floor, and other thicker mats piled up against the wall. There were other items around the walls; some of the things she could guess what they were for, and others she could not even imagine. He instructed her to start to jog in place as he did also. After a few minutes, he started to do jumping jacks. She was starting to wonder whether they were just going to exercise, which naturally made her feel disappointed. She had already exercised today; she wanted to learn to fight. He finished the jumping jacks and then started to lead her through some stretches.

  “So…when am I going to try to take you?” she said in mid-stretch.

  He started to laugh but held his position. “This is how we always start. You need to warm up before training to make sure you don’t strain anything. If you get injured, we would have to take a break.”

  “If you were really attacking me, straining muscles is the last thing I would be worried about. I won’t get a chance to warm up if I really have to fight someone,” she replied with a bit of cheek. Freya for a moment wondered where all this attitude was coming from. She was once so compliant, and just went along with everything. Yet here she was, challenging everything he said—when participating in combat training had been her idea!

  “You know, that is a valid point. But being that I am your instructor and not actually attacking you, the instructor says you need to warm up.” Although his tone was stern, he didn’t seem the least bit angry with her. “First we are going to start with defensive moves. I will run you through a few scenarios of what to do if you are attacked.”

  Freya knew that it was time to quit being cheeky and get down to business.

  He approached her from different directions, explaining how if someone came at her from a certain angle, what would be the proper countermove. He would tell her, and then help her understand the movements she would do; she would try the movement and then he would pretend to be the attacker.

  She was enjoying the learning, but didn’t feel as though she could actually stop him if he was really attacking her. They kept practicing for a while until he told her it was time to stop for the night.

  “Seriously, that’s it?” she replied, nearly outraged.

  “One lesson at a time, Freya. You did really well tonight. I can tell you have kept yourself in good shape, which will help you.”

  She couldn’t fight the smile which crept onto her face from his praise. She looked down at the floor, trying to suppress the grin—shifted her weight from foot-to-foot, and then looked back up at him.

  “Alright. Same time tomorrow?” she asked hopefully.

  “Yes, same time.” He paused, and looked down. “I know you must be really frightened by what happened. I have to say, I am quite surprised it happened at all. You are armed now, and you
know how to use it. The chances of something like this happening again are slim, but even if it did, you will be well equipped. We are also patrolling that area now—which we didn’t do before the attack, until the proper surveillance equipment is set up for Security to monitor.” He paused again, and looked back at her, right at her. “I am more than happy to train you, but please, don’t be afraid. There is no cause for fear. It will take you some time before you will be able to engage in combat, so don’t get frustrated by the pace we take. I need to make sure you make it to the other side of this training safe, and healthy.”

  The reality was, she wasn’t frightened. This training was not about her needing to protect herself. In the beginning it was, but she had already become aware that it was so much more. She wasn’t there to fight; this was the first thing that had made her feel like herself since Colin had left. It was so much more than a distraction—it gave her purpose. She had made Colin the focal point of her life. Once he had taken that spot, she couldn’t just go back to her life before him. She needed something new, something to excite her. Before the training, she had gone completely numb, and this made her feel again. It made her feel excited and happy, and even scared—but it made her feel. It was something to look forward to, something that make her unique, that set her apart from others—it was just hers, her own special thing.

  She made her way back to the apartment and shut the trapdoor. It really was such a handy way for her to commute to training. Freya looked at the positioning of the door and figured that it had to be there as an alternative route for Victor to take if needed. Now that she thought about it, his office must have one also. She started to map out in her mind theories of where these trapdoors were hidden in the house. How many other workers could be Councilmembers? Were there more people in this house using the tunnels other than Victor and Chastity? What other buildings would have an access like this?

  Once she had changed into sleeping wear, exhaustion caught up with her. She hadn’t realized how depleted she was until now. Getting up far too early the day before, in combination with intense physical activity, had really drained her. It felt kind of nice, in a way. Her entire body was heavy. She lay down on the sofa without changing it to a bed and was asleep almost instantly.

  The alarm woke her up the next morning from a dead sleep. Chastity must have set them for the new apartment; perhaps that was why she had wanted Freya to get her own space. Today her muscles were a little sore, her body still tired; it was more difficult to get out of bed when it wasn’t absolutely necessary. She did, however, know that those stiff muscles needed to be worked out before the rematch with Lewis tonight. If she couldn’t keep the consistency with her training, then she would be disappointed with the results. Freya made her way to the exercise room and had a satisfactory workout. She did not push. Today was about loosening up and being limber. A nice, steady pace on the treadmill in a light jog with no fast sprints, and a lot of stretching without focusing on strength training.

  It was a little lonely getting ready in the apartment by herself. Yet it was also kind of enjoyable in a way. She missed Chastity’s presence, but appreciated not having to take turns in the bathroom. This apartment was going to suit her just fine. Other than Colin, what she missed most about their apartment was all the windows. This apartment only had one, but if she could only have one, she simply could not ask for a better view. The dome wasn’t visible from her window, which was part of what made the view so spectacular—just the garden with a forested area behind it. She came to herself, realizing she should be working in the garden instead of staring at it from her window. Freya worked vigorously through the day and was pleased to see that so far, she was able to keep up with her workload.

  The alarm on the tablet rang after what hardly felt like a day, and she went back inside to wash up. As she got changed, the excitement about training started to fester inside her again. As much as Freya never wanted to be re-coupled, there was something she enjoyed about having male companionship. It was such a different interaction than what she currently had with any of her co-workers. It was a nice variety.

  When she arrived for training, she was disappointed when Lewis told her they were to work on target practice. She expressed her disappointment, and he informed her that training was to be every second day, as her body needed rest.

  Once the disappointment had subsided, when she was taking aim, she remembered how much she truly enjoyed shooting. It was almost as though all of the anger she had festering in her core would become centered, and then leave her body with every bullet. She had never felt more in control in her life. It invoked a strange sensation in her; usually when she thought of Colin, she felt pathetic and weak. But when she was firing, she felt as if there was nothing in the world that could hurt her. It was almost as though she envisioned his face on the target. It was not that she wanted Colin dead; it was more she wanted her feelings about him to die. If only she could have that chance to speak to him. If she could tell him she was better off without him, that she hoped he was happy in his new life without her. The gun started to make a clicking sound, and it brought Freya back to the present.

  “Whoa, where did you go there?” Lewis asked.

  “Sorry. Guess I got carried away,” she replied, not meeting his gaze.

  He sighed and ran his hand down his face. “Freya, I am going to be really honest with you. Please don’t be angry with me. I have been instructed to watch you for signs of post-traumatic stress disorder. I have reported you sound of mind, and I don’t want to have to change that report—as you may lose your firearm, or have restrictions put into place. You kind of went off there, and it makes me nervous.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.” She tried to reassure him. “I think I just really got in the zone. I like it, you know?”

  “I have one question for you, and I need you to answer it honestly,” he said. She nodded, trying to push down a panic that was rising in her about what he was about to ask, and what the consequences would be. “Were you envisioning killing an actual person just then?”

  Freya knew she was in trouble. This could ruin everything. She knew she had no option but to tell the truth. He had obviously been trained to assess people, read her body language and actions, so she simply nodded yes to his question.

  He let out a sigh. “Was it the men who tried to break into the dome?”

  “No, my partner,” she blurted without thinking.

  Lewis’s eyes bulged in surprise, and then he tried to suppress a smile, but was unsuccessful. He tried for a moment longer to repress the grin, and failed miserably, and broke into laughter he tried to hide with a cough.

  As soon as she saw his smile, the tension instantly released from her body. She had not intended to make a joke—she had genuinely been envisioning Colin, but even she could see the humor he found in the situation

  “Do you still think it’s post-traumatic stress disorder?”

  Lewis then abandoned the attempt at hiding his laughter. “Remind me not to make you mad at me,” he said. “Didn’t realize I was putting my life at risk by arming you.” He began to gain control of himself. “I’m almost afraid to ask—what did he do?”

  Freya paused for a moment, and reloaded her gun. She didn’t want to tell him, but she knew if she didn’t, he would start to ask questions about “her partner” and that seemed so much worse in her mind.

  “He left.” Gun reloaded, she turned back to the target and fired off another round, and Lewis didn’t try to stop her.

  “I don’t get it. How could he leave? You can’t leave a coupling.”

  “You can if there is a spacecraft you can hitch a ride on,” she responded, and reloaded the gun.

  “Shit, are you kidding me? He left—like he actually left you and the planet,” he responded, dumbfounded. “I can’t believe the State would separate a couple like that.”

  “He wanted to leave me. That was his option offered to get out of our coupling.” She fired again. She
was most definitely imagining Colin where the target was.

  “I can’t believe it. What an idiot,” he muttered and then fell silent for a moment. “Freya, can I ask you something?”

  No, I don’t want to play twenty-one questions about this, she thought, and took a deep breath—it would be easier to get it out quickly.

  “Yes, I thought he was happy; yes, I thought he loved me; no, I had no idea he had been lying to me the entire time we were together.” She fired off another round. Something in this combination, saying it out loud and then shooting, was intoxicating. She had spoken to only Chastity and Victor about what happened with Colin. She never imagined she could bring herself to speak of it. But somehow having a gun in her hand as she shared and re-lived her nightmare, it made it bearable, as if she wasn’t some weak, pathetic girl who had been messed around.

 

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