by Eliza Green
Warren slipped his hands out of his pockets. He held them up, his eyes wide. ‘No, I didn’t mean that. I just meant...’ He huffed out a breath, dropping his hands to his side. ‘I came to apologise. I know that doesn’t mean much now, but I wasn’t myself in Arcis.’
Somehow, Anya didn’t believe him.
He continued. ‘Arcis was like a pressure cooker. We were all under a lot of stress.’
She’d take his word for it because she couldn’t remember. But she wouldn’t tolerate his excuses.
‘A difficult situation didn’t give you the right to treat me the way you did. A crisis isn’t an excuse to behave like an animal.’
Her words made Warren angry. ‘Don’t pull that crap with me, Anya. You behaved badly too.’
She squared up to him. ‘When?’
‘When Tahlia died. You had a hand in her death. You delayed her from reaching her machine and scanning the barcode before the clock ran out. She died from electrocution.’
Tahlia—did the name mean anything? A streak of pink flashed in her mind. A memory?
She folded her arms. ‘That doesn’t sound like something I’d do.’
‘Exactly!’ He tugged on clumps of his strawberry blond hair. ‘Arcis turned us into people we didn’t recognise.’
Having Warren near, chatting to him like the last three months never happened, disturbed her. But her fight was with the city now, not Warren.
She leaned against the wall. When Warren came closer, she put her hand up. ‘That’s close enough. I still don’t trust you.’
He stopped where he was. She pinned her gaze on him. ‘Why did you do it?’
It was a simple question, and she expected another excuse. Arcis hadn’t turned them into anyone they weren’t already. She didn’t remember how they’d met, but she knew it was before the attack, and that she’d had her doubts about him even then.
Warren dropped his gaze to the ground, working the tip of his black boot through the gravel. ‘Not my finest moment.’ He looked up at her; it surprised her to see tears in his eyes. ‘I needed to get to the ninth floor. That is the truth. June was impeding my progress on the fourth floor.’
Yes, she remembered. Canya’s release of that memory had unlocked some of the events that took place after.
‘It was a shitty thing to do to me.’
‘It was.’ He worked his jaw as if he were trying to hold back the tears. ‘And I know that now. I couldn’t see past my own problems.’
‘What were you looking for on the ninth floor?’
Warren shrugged. ‘I didn’t find it.’
‘Not what I asked.’
Warren sighed. ‘My parents spoke about a place that existed beyond the towns and Praesidium’s control.’ The Beyond. ‘They abandoned me to go there, left me to deal with this crap alone. I needed to find them and tell them they were wrong about me, that I could handle the truth. I stupidly thought the control centre in Arcis might have the coordinates.’
Anya recalled nothing about Warren’s life before her amnesia. Had he told her this story before? She didn’t think so. But the common denominator between all their stories was the Beyond.
While she would never trust Warren again, she would try to get past what he did to her—not for his sake, but her own. Right now, the Collective posed a bigger threat to her safety.
‘Vanessa thinks I know where the place is, that my parents may have mentioned it in some conversation at home.’
Warren’s eyes lit up, enough to confirm his story was real. ‘But you don’t remember.’
She shook her head and stared at the red-bricked building opposite her. ‘I heard a lot of things that didn’t make sense. But I don’t remember them ever mentioning that place.’
Warren relaxed his stance; it reminded her to keep her own guard up.
‘Just because we’re talking doesn’t mean we’re friends.’
Warren’s body stiffened again. He wiped away a tear with the back of his fist.
‘I meant it when I said I was sorry. I used you to get to the ninth floor. I thought you’d be a good ally. You were, until Dom distracted you and you allied with him instead. I was left with no one.’ He turned away and shook his head. ‘It’s no excuse for what I did.’ He turned back. ‘All I could think about was how to get off that floor. I didn’t think of anyone but me.’
If Warren’s story about her helping to kill Tahlia was true, perhaps that made Anya no better than Warren.
‘Seems like we both did things we’re not proud of.’ The statement shocked her to say, but she felt in her gut that she’d behaved badly, even though she couldn’t recall her actions. ‘How about we try to be better people?’
Warren dried his eyes and nodded. ‘I never wanted to hurt you. You were my friend.’
Were. They would never be more than politely civil to each other.
‘Well, we’re both intact. We made it out of there, even if we lost a part of ourselves doing it.’ She couldn’t believe what she was about to suggest. She thrust out her hands. ‘Truce?’
Warren stared at her hand, then at her. ‘Are you sure?’
She nodded. ‘As long as you swear never to put anyone through that again.’
‘I promise,’ said Warren weakly, looking embarrassed.
He shook her hand once. She pulled it back before the feel of him brought her back to that place.
Charlie bolted out of nowhere, grabbed Warren by the shoulder and yanked him back. ‘Stay away from her.’
Shocked, Anya stood frozen to the spot. A livid Charlie gripped Warren’s arm and dragged the boy along with him.
‘Get your hands off me!’ said a panicked Warren.
He shot his gaze back to Anya.
Anya raced after them. ‘Charlie, what are you doing?’
The old man stopped. She’d never seen him look so angry. ‘Did this boy hurt you in Arcis?’
Her mouth opened and closed like a fish. ‘Who told you? Was it Dom?’
She would kill him.
‘Sheila did. She couldn’t stay silent any longer and I’m glad she told me. What were you thinking, Anya?’
He resumed his walk, dragging Warren along. Warren kept up to avoid tripping. He looked fully resigned to his fate.
‘That is my business. We were sorting it out.’ She stumbled along after them. ‘Where are you taking him?’
‘To see Max. We can’t have a rapist in the camp.’
‘I’m not a rapist.’ Warren’s voice shook. ‘It was a mistake. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I swear.’
Fat tears dropped from his eyes. Anya almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
Her hands and body shook from the shock.
Jason came out of the workshop, looking startled. ‘What’s going on?’
Without looking at him, Charlie kept pulling. ‘This hooligan attacked your sister in Arcis. I’m taking him to Max.’
Jason’s eyes rounded. ‘What? When?’ He grabbed Anya’s shoulder turning her to him. ‘Are you okay?’
She shucked him off and ran to catch up with the others. ‘Yes.’
She was more than okay. This single event had proven that. Better still, those traumatic events no longer imprisoned her.
Charlie jerked a resigned Warren inside the town hall. Anya kept close to the pair, who moved fast along the corridor. A few soldiers in the town hall frowned as they passed.
Charlie opened the door to the strategy room and pushed Warren inside.
Max looked up in alarm. ‘What’s this, dad?’
Charlie breathed hard. The mild mannered barber’s face scrunched up in anger took Anya aback.
He pointed at a shaking and fearful Warren. ‘You tell him.’
‘I attacked Anya in Arcis,’ he whispered.
Charlie continued. ‘Almost raped her, according to Sheila. And he’s wandering around this camp like he did nothing.’
‘It’s not like that.’ His voice rose in protest.
Max slid his angry gaze to Any
a. ‘Is this true?’
She nodded, caught up in a strange haze. This was her business, nobody else’s. If she’d wanted anyone to know she would have told them.
Movement fanned her hair around her face as Jason rushed forward, fist raised. He punched Warren square on the nose.
‘Ah!’ yelled Warren, scrunching up his eyes.
‘Jason, stop it!’
Anya’s cheeks burned.
Her brother pointed at a bent-over Warren. ‘If you so much as look at her the wrong way, I’ll kill you.’
‘Enough!’ said Max. He focused on Anya. ‘I should lock Warren up for this, but I can see Charlie’s intervention came as a shock to you.’ That was an understatement. ‘So, I leave the punishment up to you. What do you want to happen here?’
Warren straightened up, his hand covering his nose. He met her gaze briefly before dropping his to the floor.
She wanted to see him suffer more than he had, but they’d come to an agreement before Charlie had interrupted their discussion. Having more than just her knowing the story gave her a weird sense of calm. A calm she hadn’t felt since her Copy had passed the memory back to her.
Max, Charlie and Jason watched her carefully, waiting for her answer. What would she gain from further punishment in the middle of preparations for an upcoming battle? She had defended herself that night. She was no victim.
Anya pulled in a breath and released it. ‘We need everyone ready to fight for when the machines come. You can lock him up if you want, but it doesn’t matter. He can’t hurt me anymore.’
Warren looked relieved, while the others did not.
‘How much of a danger is he to others?’ asked Max.
Anya couldn’t say; she told him the truth. ‘Arcis made us do some crazy things, and while that doesn’t excuse Warren’s behaviour, he wasn’t acting in his right mind. We were under a lot of pressure.’
‘We were. I was,’ said Warren.
Anya glared at him and he stopped talking.
Her cheeks burned hotter with the attention on her. She was sick of thinking about it. ‘Warren’s punishment is to live with his guilt. Plus, it’s enough that you all know.’
Max folded his arms. ‘Are you sure?’
Anya nodded. She was, and grateful to Sheila for doing something she’d been too weak to manage.
She glanced at a relieved Warren, who nodded at her.
Jason growled. ‘What did I just tell you?’
Anya placed a hand on his chest and shot him a warning look.
To Warren she said, ‘I didn’t do it for you. I’m doing it for me.’
Max gave her a tight nod. ‘The lady has spoken. But I want Warren supervised at all times. He won’t be left alone with any of the females.’
Jason pointed at him. ‘If you look at anyone for too long, I’ll personally put you in the hospital.’
Warren, in good sense, didn’t reply.
What Anya saw in the almost man was another victim of their tragic circumstances. She hoped he could live with his choices. She had to live with hers.
When this was all over, when they defeated the machines, she vowed to have nothing else to do with him.
There was no room left in her heart for enemies in this camp. Bigger dangers were coming and Anya had to prepare for them, like everyone else. Memories or not, she would help the rebels as much as she could. They had rescued her from Praesidium and, based on her only recollection of Arcis, they had helped her there too. Not to mention they’d kept her brother alive. She owed them.
But turning over a new leaf meant leaving the last three months behind. If she got her memories back, great, but it could no longer be her sole focus. That meant also leaving Dom behind.
From his interaction with the mystery woman, it appeared he’d already moved on.
23
Carissa
Her conversation with Anya had distracted Carissa from her wilful actions for only a short time. She returned to the workshop, hoping for a better diversion. Jason and Thomas continued to work under the Inventor’s supervision. It surprised her that he wasn’t the one sat in the chair working on the orb. He knew more about Praesidium’s machines than either of the Originals.
The Inventor noticed her hovering by the door. If he was still angry with her since she’d told him about Quintus’ promises to punish them, he didn’t show it.
He hooked a finger at her and pointed to the chair in front of the worktable. ‘We need you, miss. We need to record your command frequency again.’
Carissa had recorded her whistle for Thomas, but each time it failed to command the orb. She didn’t know why. It sounded the same as the last time.
She sat in the chair and the Inventor pushed a recording device under her nose.
‘Whistle into it.’
All eyes were on her as she puckered her lips and blew for the tenth time that day.
The Inventor clicked off the recording and hooked the device up to one of Thomas’ machines. It played back her whistle, but the orb, which they had left intact, failed to react.
‘Why isn’t it working, Jacob?’ she said.
‘It can happen, miss. We’re putting you on the spot. Maybe you’re nervous.’
He rubbed his chin and studied the screen that Jason and Thomas monitored.
Jason looked up at the Inventor. ‘We have the seven numbers that make up their frequency. Can’t we just guess it?’
The Inventor shook his head. ‘Too many variables with seven digits. We must hit this one on the head for it to work.’
Carissa understood what they planned to do with the recording of her voice: use it in a playback device that would be buried in the land beyond the anti-magnetic barrier, and attract the orbs to it. The digging machines couldn’t pass the barrier, but the orbs could fly over the top of it, as this one had proved already. But why it was still active confused Carissa.
From her seated position, she looked up at the Inventor. ‘Why haven’t you destroyed this orb?’
The Inventor met her curious gaze. ‘We’ve disabled its connection to Praesidium, miss. Now we want to see if we can reprogram it to listen to our own set of commands.’
‘Use it to record like the city does?’
The Inventor nodded at her. ‘That’s the plan. It will give us eyes on the city. But it won’t be much use unless we can get your command frequency to stop more orbs from coming here. The orbs can be reprogrammed if they’re isolated from their pack. But when other orbs are around, they go into a hive mind formation. Like worker bees.’
Carissa understood. Similar to how the Copies listened to Quintus and the Collective ten. Independent in thought until his command, delivered through the NMC, called them to the Great Hall.
Similar to how she had behaved while in this camp, searching for a connection like a worker bee hunting for her queen. Feeling lost without her pack.
‘Can’t you just hook me up to one of your diagnostic machines? Find the code in my security file?’
‘I wish.’ He shook his head. ‘The camps and towns are not equipped with the same tech that you’d find in Praesidium.’
‘Why not?’
Both Jason and Thomas glanced up from their work.
‘Because the city kept the best tech for themselves. By handing out old, worn tech to the towns, the city could keep the folks there reliant on them.’
The Inventor’s criticism of the Collective’s ways irritated her. She puffed out her chest. ‘Maybe the towns weren’t deserving of the technology. Maybe the Collective was worried they might break it. It took a lot of work to put the designs together.’
The Inventor perched his fists on his hips and glared at her. ‘And who do you think built those machines, miss? Who do you think built them before that? Everything in that city came from people like me who were taken prisoner and forced to work there. The Collective only designed what it wanted. I and others before me had to build it.’
Carissa recoiled from the Inventor’s ha
rsh words. He’d been more subdued in the city. Both Jason and Thomas dropped their heads to hide behind the monitor.
Her own shoulders drooped. ‘I just meant the towns weren’t ready.’
‘That’s not the point, miss. You know the Collective was keeping humans prisoner there. You reasoned away your feelings about it by saying we were useful to the city. But we were also expendable.’
Carissa dropped her gaze. ‘I’m sorry, Inventor. I’m worried, that’s all.’
‘At least she has remorse,’ muttered Thomas.
She flashed her eyes up to see the Inventor shoot him a look. Thomas slid farther down.
Jacob let his fists fall to his side and huffed out a breath. ‘Why are you worried, miss?’
Her heart raced as she looked up at him. ‘What will Quintus do to me when he comes? What will he do to the people in this camp? Will he make me go back?’
The Inventor shook his head, but it didn’t put her mind at ease. ‘No matter what he promised you, he won’t take you back. You’ve shown independent thought. He won’t want you upsetting his or the Collective’s plans. Most likely, he will terminate you.’
She shuddered hard at the thought. ‘And you, Inventor?’
Quintus had already said he would return the escapees to the city and make them work until they were of no further use.
He nodded. ‘And Rover. Everyone in this camp.’
She feared for the beast who had become her friend.
She steadied her nerves and sat up straight. ‘I want to try whistling again.’
‘Okay.’
He took the recording device from Jason and she whistled into it. He handed it back to Jason, who hooked it up and played a direct feed to the inactive orb. But at a shake of his head, she knew it hadn’t worked.
‘Miss, you’re too nervous. The whistle, the command frequency, it’s a part of you. You need to relax, not think about it.’ The Inventor glanced at the door. ‘I have an idea.’
He pulled her up to stand and took the device from Jason once more. He set it to record. ‘Miss, I want you to call Rover.’
Thomas stood up fast, knocking over his chair. ‘That thing’s coming here? I don’t think so.’