Escape to Eden

by Rachel McClellan

  She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right. We’re going to have to watch you like we would a baby. And wipe your nose and change your diapers. Poor, poor Patch.”

  Heat rushes to my face. I’ve never been spoken to that rudely. I don’t think so anyway, but if I have, I’m pretty sure I didn’t take it.

  I lean over the table and say, “I mean it. I don’t need you. I escaped from the Institute without you holding my baby hand, didn’t I?”

  Jenna smirks. “Look who suddenly has a backbone? And you’re right. I didn’t hold your hand, nor would I ever want to. I’m out.” She stands and says over her shoulder, “Wait here.”

  I stare after her, wishing my glare would burn a hole in her back. She disappears into the swarms of people, bouncing up and down like she plans on having the time of her life. I lean back against the cold steel wall and cross my arms to my chest. Periodically a flash of light shines into the crowd, and I think I catch sight of the back of Jenna’s blonde hair.

  I pull my hat further down over my forehead to shade my eyes and survey the people in the room, specifically looking at their eyes. Most of them glow a bright maple color, but others flash a bright green, yellow, and even purple. I’m instantly afraid of the ones who don’t flash gold, but I’m not sure why. I slide my hands into the sleeves of the black shirt, and hunch lower into the seat, wishing I could melt into the hard metal.

  All of a sudden I shiver, the kind of shiver that makes me know I’m being watched. I look around to find the reason for the hair on my arms standing to attention. Across the room is the tall, dark outline of a man. Lights flash over him, illuminating electric blue eyes, making me think of lightning. I feel the power in them as strong as thunder. He sees me watching him and moves forward.

  Straight for me.

  He moves slowly, deliberately.

  I search the crowd, my fingernails digging into the bottom of the chair, but it’s metal and doesn’t give. Jenna and Anthony are nowhere to be seen. I look back at the approaching man, hoping an instinct will kick in as to what I should do. Nothing comes. Maybe he’s harmless, I hope. But the way he’s moving through the crowd, not touching anyone, slipping through them like a ghost, makes me doubtful.

  I stand up, contemplating my options. Follow Jenna into a crowd of dangerous people or after Anthony into a black tunnel? Despite my earlier aversion to being in a dark space in the car, I decide to follow Anthony.

  I move to take a step, but the man is suddenly upon me, his hands on my shoulders, pressing me to the wall. The stool is in my way, making my feet slip, but I don’t fall because he’s too strong. I stare at the ground, afraid to let him see my eyes.

  He takes hold of my chin with a cold and firm grip. “Look at me,” he says.

  When I begin to struggle he presses harder on my shoulders until I cry out in pain.

  “Look at me or you’ll regret it.” His voice holds a threatening note all the way to his fingertips.

  Because nothing comes to me as to what I should do next, I do what any sane, life-wanting person would do: obey. I stop struggling and slowly meet his gaze. His incandescent blue eyes hold even more power this close, and a shiver shakes my whole body, but he doesn’t notice.

  “Your eyes,” he says, frowning. “Are you an Original?”

  I don’t answer. I’m too afraid of being sent back to the Institute.

  He glances all around us while still maintaining his tight grip. “Who sent you? Is this a test? Answer me!”

  I gasp when the pressure on my shoulders becomes too great. “You’re hurting me!”

  He searches my eyes, his dark eyebrows drawn together. The rest of his face is shadowed from the lights above, or maybe that’s just what he is—an extension of the darkness, some abnormality that shouldn’t exist.

  His grip lightens, but he still holds me against the wall. “Why are you here?”

  I try to look beyond him, hoping to see Anthony or Jenna, but he is blocking my view of anything else. A thought comes to me, not so much an instinct, but more common sense. He is a man after all.

  I bring my knee up between his legs hard. His steel blue eyes widen, and he falls to the floor moaning. I scramble around him and dive into the crowd of moving bodies that’s like a turbulent river, twisting and swirling. I spin around until I’m spit out the other side, next to a bar lit up by the same illusion of fire that’s on the ceiling.

  The music is louder here, and it vibrates my insides. Someone grabs my arm. I breathe a sigh of relief, thinking it’s Jenna by the smaller grip, but when I turn around there’s a girl with black, spiked hair. I think it’s spiked anyway, but as I look closer I notice that the four-inch spikes are actually horns lining the center of her head all the way down to the back of her neck. Her eyes shine nothing, only blackness, and this lone fact, not the spikes on her head, terrifies me to the bone.

  “Sorry, I thought you were someone else,” she says and is about to let go of my arm, but at the last second she sees my face. “Hey, what’s wrong with you?”

  I stutter as I try to think of something to say.

  She frowns and her eyes turn darker, if that’s possible. “I think someone’s looking for you.”

  “She’s with me,” a voice says from behind. The voice is loud enough to be heard over the blaring music.

  I spin around, almost running into the man who had me pinned to the wall moments ago. He’s standing beneath a glowing light now, revealing that he’s just a regular man, or really a boy. He looks only a little older than me, with hair as black as the shadows he just came from. He’s tall and wearing a long, dark leather trench coat that fits him snugly across his wide shoulders. Like everyone else, his skin is flawless, but I do discover a flaw amongst his perfectly broad chin and high cheekbones. His nose. It’s crooked. I find it oddly comforting to find fault in a world that seems so perfect.

  “How can she be with you?” The horned girl says, sneering. “You’re never with anyone. And what’s with her eyes?”

  “She’s tripping on something. Addict.” The muscles on the side of his face bulge, exposing a dark vein running the length of his neck. He looks ready for a fight.

  I remain quiet, not sure how to react. My instincts, however, know to stay away from the girl with the horns.

  “Let’s go,” he says and faces me the other direction. To the other girl, he says, “See you around, Spit.”

  I don’t look back and let the boy push me back into the waves of people. I keep my eyes down. I can’t forget that I don’t belong here.

  When we reach a break in the crowd, I spin around and say, “I have to go back to the table.”

  He shakes his head and continues to push me across the room and to the entrance of a long hallway. He’s strong, stronger than a normal man. I sense it in the way his arm is nudging me forward, gentle like he’s afraid I’ll break in two if he’s not careful. I bet if he wanted he could toss me to the other side of the room. I have to find Anthony.

  “Stop, please!” I say again.

  He cuts in front of me so fast that I stumble back. “It’s not safe here for someone like you, don’t you understand? What are you even doing here?”

  His features have softened, but there’s still a sharp edge. The kind only deep pain creates. I wonder if I have the same expression on my face because I feel pain inside me too, but don’t know what’s created it.

  He sees my hesitation and possibly my fear. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not like them.” He motions to the crowd over my shoulder.

  “Then what are you?” Words are all I have to go by with this boy. I’m hoping I’ll be able to discern the truth.

  He frowns, like he’s not sure how to answer the question. “I’m just me,” he says. “I don’t belong in this world. Neither do they. But you”—he swallows, his Adam’s apple going up and down— “you belong.”

  But I don’t belong, I want to say. Not even close. Instead I blurt, “I escaped from the Institute. A man named Anthony bro
ught me here so he could talk to someone named Bram.”

  The boy stiffens and clenches his jaw. “Come on,” he says. He guides me into the same dark hallway Anthony disappeared into moments ago. It smells like sweat and fresh paint, and the air is sticky like it’s been sitting too long with nowhere to go.

  The boy stops at a door and swings it open wide without knocking. “Did you lose something?”

  Anthony turns around. His eyes go from me to the boy.

  “How could you leave her alone out there?” the boy asks.

  “Calm down, Colt,” Anthony says. “She wasn’t alone. Jenna’s with her.”

  Colt looks around sarcastically. “Do you see her anywhere?”

  “Where’s Jenna?” Anthony asks me.

  “She had to go do something, but I’m fine. It’s okay.”

  Colt scowls. “It’s not fine. Spit saw her.”

  Anthony’s eyebrows lift, and he looks at a man who is sitting behind a desk. “Bram?”

  Bram, who looks a little younger than Anthony, rises. He’s not tall, but he’s well built and has eyes a soft caramel color. He circles around his desk and comes toward me. I back up.

  “Don’t worry, girl. I mean you no harm.” He grips my chin lightly and stares into my eyes. “Remarkable.” He lets go and steps back. “You must protect her no matter what happens. It’s up to you. I can’t help. I’m sorry.”

  “What? Why? That’s why I came here!” Anthony says.

  Bram shakes his head. “The Institute is watching my every move, even at my house. She’s not safe with me.”

  “Then what am I supposed to do?”

  “Leave. Right away. If Spit’s seen her, then others may be on their way.” He goes to his desk and scribbles on a piece of paper. “Go to this address. You’ll be safe there for a short time.”

  He tears the paper in half and writes something else on the bottom portion. “And here’s the code to get in. You keep one and give the other to Jenna. I’ll contact you soon with where to go next and how we can get her to Eden.”

  My head snaps up. “Eden?”

  Something about the name sparks a fleeting memory. I struggle to hang on to it, and then, just like that, it’s gone.

  Bram gives the papers to Anthony who, in turn, gives one to Colt instead of waiting for Jenna.

  Colt raises his hands, refusing to take it. “Whoa! I can’t take that. I’m staying out of this.”

  Anthony says, “Colt, I need your help. She needs you.”

  “Sorry, but you’ve got the wrong person.”

  “No, we don’t. You brought her here. You could’ve just as easily taken her to the Institute and received a huge reward.”

  Colt steps toward the door. “I can’t just pack up and go.”

  “Why not? What’s holding you here?” Anthony asks.

  The room is quiet yet loud at the same time. I don’t know what to think. Colt had felt so threatening before. Had he really been trying to help me?

  Bram sits down. “Why would you trust him, Anthony?”

  Colt glares at him. “I can be trusted.”

  “Then prove it,” Anthony says. The room goes from heavy to aggressive.

  The tension breaks when Jenna appears in the doorway. “There you are, Patch! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  Anthony grabs her arm. “Why did you leave her? What were you thinking?”

  She shakes his hand off. “She told me to. Said she could take care of herself.” She notices Colt. “Maybe I shouldn’t have left. I didn’t realize a snitch was in the house.”

  I take a small step back; my stomach churns as I realize that two people now have both said they don’t trust Colt. I need to keep my guard up with him.

  Colt moves toward Jenna, but Anthony steps between them. “We have bigger things to worry about, Jenna. Spit saw her.”

  Fear replaces her smirk. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s bolt.”

  Anthony turns and addresses Colt one last time. “Are you going to help?”

  Colt hesitates, probably afraid. They probably all are. I may not know them well, but I know their lives aren’t any more valuable than mine.

  I clear my throat before I speak. “It’s okay. He doesn’t have to come. None of you do. You’ve already helped me so much. I don’t want you putting your lives at risk anymore. If you can just give me directions to get out of the city and to this place called Eden, I can make it on my own.”

  The room does the whole quiet/loud thing again, and I squirm under their intense stares. Colt’s stare is especially uncomfortable, like he’s seeing beyond my eyes and all the way inside me to a place I don’t even know about.

  “Let’s go. Now,” Colt says, making me think he saw something.

  After leaving Bram’s office and hurrying down the hall, Anthony pushes open a back door leading into a different alleyway than the one we parked in. It’s as clean as the one before and smells like lilac bushes. I look around for them but see none.

  “Wait here,” Anthony says and jogs to the corner of the building.

  I stand close to Colt and Jenna, glancing sideways at Colt. He’s looking down the alleyway, opposite of Anthony. His whole body is alert and tense.

  “Thanks,” I say to him, my voice low.

  “Don’t thank him just yet,” Jenna mutters, and again I wonder what Colt has done to make her hate him so much.

  Anthony jogs back. “The Institute is here.”

  “How many vehicles?” Colt asks.

  “Just two, but more will be coming. Jenna, can you bring your car back here?”

  “On it.” She sprints down the long alleyway the way we just came.

  My head spins, and I nearly stumble as I realize how close to the truth my earlier statement was—their lives are at risk because of me. “Anthony, I mean it. Just tell me where to go. I can find my own way.”

  “Nonsense. You would never make it. At least not until your memory comes back.”

  “Where do you think she came from?” Colt asks, his voice low.

  Anthony rolls his shoulders back trying to relieve tension in them. “From a raid. Nothing else makes sense.”

  “Raid?” I don’t like how the word fits in my mouth.

  Colt’s shaking his head. “But they didn’t find anyone at the last one. At least that’s what I was told.”

  “When was their last raid?” I ask. My stomach feels rotten and twisted inside. I inhale deeply to smell the lilacs.

  “A month ago,” Colt says.

  “Do you think—”

  “It wasn’t you,” Colt interrupts. “No one was there.” The way he says it, all forceful, makes me think he’s trying to convince himself more than me.

  “Then where did I come from? Where did the boy come from?”

  “What boy?” Colt asks.

  I explain about the boy, remembering how he had held me around the neck. With every word, the sick feeling in my gut spreads until I think I might throw up.

  “I talked to Bram about the child,” Anthony says. “He knows someone at the Institute who will find out more.”

  “Can I stay in the city until I know he’s safe?” I ask.

  “No. It’s best we get you to Eden as soon as possible.”

  “Eden,” I say. “You said it before. What is it?”

  “The only safe place for Originals. Its location is secret. I don’t even know where it is.”

  The sounds of tires squeal from around the corner. I expect to see Jenna’s car, but it isn’t. Not even close.

  A vehicle approaches us fast. It’s a small sports car that looks as liquid as black ink. Beneath a streetlight, the metal shimmers, making me think it can change its shape.

  “Run!” Anthony grabs my arm and pulls me forward, but within a few steps I’m already ahead of him, fear overriding my stiff muscles. Colt is faster and leads the way deeper into the alley.

  “Where do I go?” Colt calls.

  “Ashton Street,” Anthony says.<
br />
  “See you soon!” Colt turns into an adjacent alley, leaving us alone.

  I stay close to Anthony, my heart pounding louder than the sound of my over-sized shoes slapping against the shiny pavement. One of them flies off, almost tripping me, and I quickly abandon the other and run barefoot.

  The shimmering vehicle is almost on us when out of nowhere Jenna’s car appears, blocking its path. I expect to hear metal crunching against metal, but when I look back the hood of the ink-colored car looks like it’s buckling even though it hasn’t touched anything. It must be the car’s reaction to stopping suddenly.

  “Get in!” Jenna yells.

  I barely get the door closed before tires are clawing at the road again. I wonder if they’ll leave a mark against the perfectly constructed pavement. Anthony and I look back at the black car. It’s following behind us dangerously close.

  “It’s just a tag,” he says. “I don’t think anyone’s in it.”

  “But how do we lose it?” Jenna asks.

  Anthony swivels forward in the passenger seat, rubbing the back of his neck, but doesn’t say anything. I’m still staring at the vehicle; its hood shimmers again as if it knows I’m watching. There’s something familiar about its behavior. I think hard until my brain hurts.

  “We need a charging station,” I say. Another instinct.

  “What are you spouting?” Jenna asks, eyeing me in the rearview mirror.

  “A charging station. You know, for cars. Surely there are some around here.”

  Jenna lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Balls, Patch! Of course I know what a charging station is, but what good will that do?”

  “If we can reverse the cables and shock the power system in your car—”

  “It will reboot the whole system, dropping the tracking,” Anthony finishes, his voice excited.

  Jenna turns a corner sharply. “And you say you can’t remember anything. Are you messing with us?”

  “I can’t explain it. I don’t have control over the things that come back to me.”

  Anthony taps on a lit-up screen on the dashboard. “Talk about it later. Let’s just get to a charging station before a real vehicle with a lot of angry Institute employees shows up.”