Duplicities (Imaginations Book 2)

by Tara Brown

  Lyle looked torn. “We confronted our dads and their ridiculous plan to make everyone remember instantly. My father had fed a potent form of the memory-maker poison into the water source for the city. Everyone who’s had even a small drink of water has taken enough to bring back their memories. When we found out, we told them we were leaving the city and never coming back here. We came here to sabotage the equipment so the aliens would leave and not come here again, we thought it might give the people a chance.”

  Murphy scoffed. “Not likely, the bloody city is on fire. The people from up there aren’t coming back here anyway. Those transmissions we found were old. The scientist who looked like Gwyn was an adult and yet a clone? There must have been some time between that recording and now.”

  “Or a different time where they are, compared to here.”

  I got lost instantly but it didn't matter. I didn't need to know. I needed to go. “Where is your dad now?”

  Lyle sighed, scratching his dark-blond head. “I don't know. He and my uncle came here, saw the evidence we had found and called us freaks. Said the world needed to be saved from the things like us.” He looked disgusted. “I have to assume Tyler was the first person they came upon.” He gave me a look. “You were right, we never should have stayed. We should have just left it unfinished and walked away. I am sorry I didn't listen to you.”

  “I’m going to find Bran.” I glanced down the hall, wondering if Bran was sobbing and alone with Tyler’s dead body. The idea of that hurt me, and I didn't want to talk about their ridiculous fathers anymore. They had murdered our friend. I wanted to leave this city.

  I turned and ran away from Murphy and Lyle. I bolted through the library and down the long rounded corridor until I reached the foyer to the elevator.

  When I got there, it was as I feared. My hand lifted to my mouth as tears dripped down my cheeks. Bran was holding Tyler, his head was down but I could see from the movement in his back he was crying. I hadn’t even realized they were good friends. Tyler hadn’t seemed like the sort of guy Bran would befriend.

  I walked to him, knelt beside him, and wrapped my arms around him. We sat there, him hugging Tyler and me hugging him, for many moments before he spoke softly. “I convinced him to join us. I convinced him we would free the city before we left. I convinced Lyle that. I believed that if we finished this we could walk away and never think on it again.” He shook his head. “Who was I kidding? We’ve made it so much worse. Now my uncle is roaming the city killing us off, ridding the world of our filthy alien blood.”

  I stroked his dark hair, whispering to him, “This is not your fault. This is the fault of Lisabeth and the others like her. Who did they think they were to mess with us that way? Did they not think one day we would revolt and free ourselves?”

  He shrugged, sniffling. It dawned on me then this was the first death he had seen of our friends. This was the first true act of savagery he had been witness to, beyond Murphy killing the supreme engineers and planners. He had never lost a friend before. Not like this anyway. None of them truly had. Only Lyle and I had seen how humans could be at their worst. And this was his own family’s handiwork.

  I pulled away, standing up and dragging him away from the bloody mess that was left of someone we had always known. He slumped over me, breathing me in. His hands slid along my back, pulling me into him. The rusty smell of Tyler’s blood made me gag. I pushed him back, shaking my head. “You have to wash that off.”

  He looked at his hands, I think stunned by what he saw. The dark blood coated his skin. He started walking, not paying attention to where he was going. He opened a door, stopping when he got in the entrance. His back stiffened. I slipped around a corner, listening to the voices muttering softly. “Bran, you see what this is, right, son? You see that you have to die? Just come inside, we’ll have a little talk before I start the show.” He was dragged into the room and I could tell it was his uncle, Lyle’s father closing the door with a slam.

  His words brought a chill up my spine as the door closed, trapping me out in the hallway or him in the room, I wasn't sure which. I turned and ran back to the room with the sleeping Lisabeth, screaming for Lyle and Murphy, “HE HAS BRAN! HE HAS BRAN! YOUR DAD IS HERE AND HE HAS BRAN!”

  Lyle ran out into the hall, taking my hand. The warmth of his hand felt right as it enclosed on mine. From that moment on I could have sworn everything went slower. We ran but it didn't feel fast enough.

  I pointed at the door with the bloody handprint, but my hand seemed to lift so slowly. Murphy kicked the door in.

  My lips parted with a scream but my throat was tight and the scream couldn't get out, not in time. Lyle’s dad raised a hand with a black gun. He looked at me as he pulled the trigger.

  For the rest of my life I would say I saw the bullet with my own eyes. Everything else had slowed down in that moment that I saw the bullet twirling through the air for its target. I saw my whole life in that moment.

  I cried before it even happened. Before it struck him in the chest, making a bloody spot spurt from his pale-blue shirt. The design was of a cloud I had seen once or a flower.

  Lyle’s screams matched my own and Murphy’s hands moved, chopping with the sword. The gun fell, maybe Lyle’s dad’s hand too. More blood filled the room but I didn't see it. I couldn't see the color red. I couldn't see any colors, just his green eyes. They blinked once before he lowered his face and looked at the dark spot on his shirt. His hand lifted to it, covering it as if that would make it better.

  I leapt at him, catching him as he coughed and dropped to his knees at the same time. The dark color I couldn't see coughed out of his mouth, landing on his lips. I cradled him, letting him cough as he gripped to me. Spasms filled his body. I could feel him tighten when they landed.

  “You chose him without giving me my chance.” His green eyes filled with tears as he lifted them and met mine. “What it might have been was a life with you, with the sun on my face and your hand in mine.” He reached for my hand, smearing his and Tyler’s blood on my skin. It was so dark compared to the pale skin of my hand. But I squeezed, hoping it wasn't a serious bullet wound.

  I shook my head, sniffling. “I never chose—I chose you. Stay with me. Don't leave without me.” The words were the ones he had said to me in the club the last time he kissed me. They were a lie leaving my lips, a kind lie because I couldn't imagine him hurting and believing I hadn’t chosen him.

  He coughed again, closing his eyes. I knew if I didn't see the green of his eyes again I would never recover from the loss of such a color. I bent forward, brushing my lips against his. The rusty taste of his dying body coated both our lips. “Don't leave me,” I whispered.

  He shook his head, suddenly incredibly calm. “I’ll be waiting for my turn, Gwyn.”

  My insides twisted as I realized why he was so calm—it was coming for him, death was coming for him and he knew it.

  A smile crossed his beautiful lips. “I see the light, the one they said I would. In the book of the old ways they said there was a light and it would come and take your soul to Heaven. And Heaven is a place where dreams become reality.”

  I sobbed harder, knowing what his dreams might have been. He had dreams of us, something I could have given him, had he been the one to spend all that time with me out in the world. But he had chosen the city, the same choice I had made.

  Suddenly I realized he was being pulled away from me and I turned to see Lyle. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, and words left his lips but I couldn't hear them. He too was covered in the dark blood. I knew it was red but I couldn't see it. The only color I saw was in his blue eyes as tears dripped from them. His face twisted and contorted as hands dragged me back, pulling me along the floor. Someone held me tightly as I watched as Lyle screamed over Bran, gripping to him and shaking his head fiercely.

  It somehow grew worse, as if seeing Lyle so upset made Bran’s injury more severe. Lyle, who managed to stay calm in everything, was lost in grief and fear
. I glanced over to see his father’s mutilated body on the floor across from us. Another man lay dead beyond Mr. Getty. I couldn't see who it was but I had to guess it was Bran’s own father.

  I didn't understand a single thing, not a single one. I didn't know how they could kill their own child, their own nephew, his own brother. I didn't understand how any of this had happened. My tears blinded me, attempted to keep me that way. I wished it could be true. I wished I could go to sleep and wake to a new day.

  But then I would forget him, Bran. And Tyler. I would forget the amazing parts of my life that included them.

  Lyle screamed, bringing back all the noise and all the color at once. The room moved at a normal speed and there was blood, so much blood. Lyle bent over Bran. I tried to scramble to them but the shaking person behind me held me so tightly I couldn't get away.

  I knew Bran had died. I knew the light was gone and I would never see that shade of green again. I would never see that smug grin. I would never fight him off for being inappropriate. I would never live a full life without him. It would always be missing one small piece. The one he had taken with him. The one he had kept.

  Tears stopped falling. I dried up. Lyle didn't move. He stayed on top of Bran, holding him. We sat there for several minutes, maybe hours. Time didn't matter. The death of the most important person in our lives mattered. It was like losing my brother. I couldn't imagine Lyle’s pain, mine was unbearable.

  I realized I was being held by Murphy when he stood and carried me from the room. His back stayed against the door he had closed, letting Lyle say his goodbyes to his family in private.

  The screen in the hall flicked on, showing the chaos in the streets. A man’s voice narrated over the footage.

  “We believe the superior engineers have been holding us captive for many generations. Rodger Getty has made the hard decision for us all and ended the life of his young nephew, Brandon, the last of the superior engineers. Here is the footage here.” Suddenly the image of Rodger holding a gun on Bran flashed on the screen. I tensed with Murphy. We both froze watching it. Rodger fired and the screen changed views, showing Bran taking the hit. Suddenly a pale hand reached out to Bran and the transmission stopped. It didn't show me or Lyle or Murphy. “As you can see, he has done his duty as a decision maker to help us, the people. He has freed us from the tyranny of the superior engineers. They treated us like slaves and that time in our history has ended. We are free. Free from tyranny and the filthy monsters that we reported earlier were using us to recreate their own people. We all know the last two generations of children must be eradicated for us to be pure. They do not belong, we must save the earth and the last of humanity from them.”

  Cheering filled the background of the transmission as it cut out.

  I wanted to gag but Murphy screamed, slicing the screen with his sword. I had lost mine in the chaos or I would have joined him in destroying it and the lies it spread.

  The door behind me opened. Lyle’s bright-blue eyes stared down on me. I spun, cupping his face with my hands and holding him so he could see my eyes, my honesty. “I am so sorry.”

  He blinked, releasing a tear down his cheeks.

  “I wish it was a sand story and we were in the desert heat, barely surviving and all this was a lie.”

  “Me too.” His lip trembled a little when he spoke.

  Murphy pushed past me, taking Lyle in his arms. They hugged like brothers, even though they had never been close like brothers. It was more like they had each just lost their brother.

  I turned and walked down the hall, not even certain of what to do at this point. Where did you go from complete and utter destruction?

  The fork in the road

  I galloped the horse with the wind in my hair and stars protecting me. I didn't care that the stars had once betrayed us, bringing our doom down upon us. I didn't care at all. There in the desert, on the back of a magnificent horse, I saw them as guardians. I believed Bran’s Heaven, the one I had read about in the book in the library, was true. I saw the point now. When you lost someone, the belief that they lived on in the stars was better than just knowing their light had gone out.

  My hair flapped against my back like a drum, my legs ached from the ride, and my fingers burned from gripping, but I didn't care. I wanted so badly to be under the same sky as him. I wanted to pray to the God that the old world believed in and ask him or her to watch over Bran. I wanted to ask that they keep him safe and happy, but even more, I wanted to ask them to make him forget me. I wished he could have a happy life, free of the selfish girl I had been.

  The truck I followed with Lyle and Murphy in it reminded me of the selfishness that lived inside of me.

  I vowed, there on the horse in the desert, to never be that girl again.

  When we rode into the small camp Michael had helped them build, my mother and father came running at me. Lyle and Murphy were behind us walking. They had abandoned the truck since it was likely one of the few things these people recalled if they had not slept yet. I jumped off the horse, handing the reins to Michael and hugging my weeping mother. Lyle walked up, taking my father in his embrace as if they were old friends.

  “Lyle, my son. How are you both?”

  “We narrowly escaped the city. It’ll be in ruin in no time.” Lyle grinned at my father but there was no expression in his dead eyes.

  My father winced. “I tried to warn them.”

  Murphy lifted a skin of water. “Each person here needs to have some of this water. It comes from the city. It will stop the reset from here on out. They might recall a few things from a few days back but that's it. But at least they won’t be resetting out here.”

  My father took the waterskins and started explaining what Murphy had said to the people who been asleep and were now waking slowly in waves.

  Michael slapped Lyle on the arm. “Found your way back out here, huh?”

  “I did.” Lyle swallowed hard, his eyes landing on me. There was something in his eyes but it was bad. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what it was.

  Michael sighed, stretching and inspecting his horse. “Can’t believe you kept your word, Gwyn.” Murphy gave him a look; it was a frightening stare that confused Michael but he just brushed it off. “What’s the plan? Back to the river folk maybe?”

  Lyle immediately started in on the questions, “What happened in the kingdom? Where is the king?”

  “Fled for The Lost City, I imagine. His soldiers would have gotten him and the family out as the invasion hit.”

  The Lost City was a name I knew. “Your dad—” I paused, not sure I wanted to finish the sentence. Lyle gave me a look. “It’s fine.”

  I furrowed my brow, hating that his dad had told me anything, ever. “He said The Lost City was the place people tried to reach when they were kicked out from The Last City. The Lost City was for the lost souls.”

  Michael nodded. “’Tis true. The Lost City is huge. Makes The City of the Undead look paltry in comparison. There are inns the size of the kingdom there. Bit of a hike though.”

  Murphy wrinkled his nose. “The Lost City is not a good place.” His words reminded me of my father’s when he had told me to steer clear of that place.

  “It’s not an ideal place but it’ all we’ve got besides the river folk.”

  “I need to follow the slavers. I need to find my brother and Amber and Brooke.”

  Lyle reached for me, taking my hand in his and squeezing slightly. “We will.” I could see neither of us wanted to lose anyone else. Greg and Amber were family in the same way Bran had been. Lyle pulled me into him, making it awkward for Murphy and Michael. They walked off, leaving us alone. I was sort of grateful for that. Michael was making me angry. I hated the way he was all about saving his own skin.

  He pressed his lips against my forehead, lingering there. “If I could wish one thing, it would be that I hadn’t used you as a pawn, ever. I wish I hadn’t put you in the situation where Murphy had to live with you, watched by the
superior engineers or planners. I wish I hadn’t made Bran ride the tram with you, stalking your footsteps. I wish I had just been man enough to risk it all, risk the city and the possibility that you might not have ever loved me back, and told you of my feelings and intentions.”

  I wished the same things, but I didn't speak them. I just looked into his blue eyes and got lost.

  “I wish I had been brave enough to bare my soul and let you choose.”

  I swallowed the words I wanted to say. I swallowed the feelings I felt for him. I forced them down so I didn't make a bigger mess than the one we were in. I couldn't be the girl he needed me to be, not right now.

  I needed to free him so he wouldn't ever be staring at me from the brink of death, regretting anything. No one should die with regret on their lips. I stepped back from him, nodding my head. “I know.” And I did. I knew he needed to let me choose for myself. He needed to let me fall in love with him the way I had in the desert and in the kingdom. I stepped back in, kissing his cheek and whispering, “Let’s focus on the people we’ve let down before we worry about the feelings we have.”

  “Sounds like a solid plan.” The look in his blue eyes would haunt me the rest of my life. It didn't match the words he spoke at all.

  I turned and walked to where my parents were. My mother drinking the water made me scared for her. The loss of a new day did sting in some ways. Some serious ways.

  Michael nudged me. “What happened?”

  “Bran died. Lyle’s father killed him. Made up some lie about Bran being part of the governing engineers because he was technically one of them. He made it seem like he was doing the city a favor, saving them from the engineers. He boasted like he had killed the others but it was Murphy.” I didn't want to tell him the truth, or anyone. I didn't want anyone to call us names or think we should die because we had alien DNA.

  He whistled softly. “Wanted to make himself a savior of the people, the natural choice for a new leader, huh? Good way to protect his place in society.”