The Survivor

by Dylan Steel

  Letting out a low growl of frustration, she slammed her hand down on the table and turned, sprinting toward the exit. Glancing in the direction of the Transfer, she saw a crowd forming around it and immediately pivoted in the other direction, deciding the stairs would be faster.

  Not surprisingly, the ground floor of the Peace was in complete chaos. Sage took advantage of the madness to make her way to the exit in the rear of the building, stumbling into the street.

  She wasn’t prepared for what she found.

  Smoke began choking her the instant she opened the door. She pulled the collar of her shirt up over her nose, forcing herself to move closer to the carnage. Noises unlike any she’d ever heard before pierced the air around her. People were sitting in the street, holding one another. Sobbing. Screaming. Wailing. As she neared the thickest parts of the smoke, the unearthly cries gave way to a deafening silence only punctuated by the occasional clatter of steel against concrete.

  For some inexplicable reason, the thought of Everett being stuck somewhere inside that silence tore her apart. She had no idea how she was going to find him, but she couldn’t just stand on the sidelines.

  Pushing deeper, Sage blinked against the smoke that stung her eyes. She spun in circles, desperately searching for any sign of Everett or anyone else she knew. Unlike her, most people were running from the smoke, not to it.

  As her gaze darted around, her eyes locked with a man standing across the street. At first, she didn’t notice anything unusual about him, but when he didn’t glance away, she took a closer look. He was young, maybe only a couple years older than she was, and he had a small box in his hand that he’d quickly shoved in his pocket when he noticed her staring.

  But she wasn’t looking at what was in his hand. She was looking at what was missing from his wrist. He wasn’t wearing a bracelet. He was a Rogue.

  Why was a Rogue just standing there, in the heart of the city, so close to what had just happened? Did he have something to do with this?

  Sage doubled over, unable to suppress the sudden urge to cough. Her stomach contracted violently as her shoulders shook, trying unsuccessfully to clear the smoke from her lungs. But there was no relief. Smoke smothered her from every side, spilling through her feeble attempt at a mask. By the time she recovered a little and managed to straighten, the Rogue was gone.

  Stars lined her vision. She turned back in the direction that she assumed was the Cabinet, but she could no longer see far enough to make out any familiar landmarks. There was nothing to reassure her that she was heading in the right direction.

  As she pressed on, the gray smoke in front of her eyes darkened until there was no longer a difference between keeping her eyes open or shut, so she squeezed them closed, giving them a small reprieve. Part of her knew that she was on a fool’s errand—if she couldn’t see, she had no hope of finding Everett or anyone else. The other part of her didn’t care—or at least, wasn’t arguing loud enough to convince her to turn back.

  Coughs shook her body as she stretched her arms forward, searching by feel for anyone or anything she could find. A wave of heat flared up on her left side, and she turned toward it. She had to be getting closer. To what, she wasn’t sure. Just… closer.

  She stumbled forward a few more steps. Her legs were unsteady beneath her. She was having trouble focusing on why she was there. The heat was getting more intense in front of her now. If she could just get a little closer to it, maybe she’d remember—

  A hand clamped firmly around her upper arm, hauling her backward at a startling speed as another wave of heat barreled toward her. Tripping over a pile of debris, she landed flat on her back with something heavy pressing down on her.

  Before she knew what was happening, the weight had lifted, and she felt herself being lifted into the air by a strong pair of arms. She opened her eyes but was still unable to see—but she knew someone was carrying her out of the smoke. A man, judging by his size and the dizzying sensation of his toned muscles holding her to him.

  Turning her head to the side, she buried her face in his chest until they’d put some distance between themselves and the building. The pressure of the smoke weighing on her lungs began to ease a little. Her eyes flew open again in an attempt to see who was carrying her. She looked up at him and blinked several times, trying to coax her vision into clearing. The face in front of her was still a blur.

  He looked down and caught her squinting at him, then lifted his chin again so that he could see where he was going. “You’ll be fine, but don’t try to talk,” he whispered hoarsely. “We need to get you out of here.”

  Her heart seized in her chest. She recognized his voice immediately and tightened her grasp on him even more. Everett.

  “You’re… ok,” she spluttered between coughs. The effort cost her precious oxygen, sending her vision spiraling into blotchy grays and blacks. Another few moments and she could no longer see or hear anything. The world went still around her.

  13. AFTERMATH

  Groaning, Sage lifted her head, trying to pry her eyes open. It took tremendous energy to do so, but at least now she could tell they’d made it back to their apartment. And Everett was still carrying her.

  He gingerly eased her onto the couch then headed straight to the kitchen, slamming open cabinets just as she fell into another fit of coughing. Sage held her stomach, her face turning red from exertion. Her head was killing her.

  Everett was at her side again faster than she would’ve thought possible, holding out a glass filled with a light blue liquid. “Drink this.”

  She pushed his hand away. Breathing was hard enough. She wasn’t about to try swallowing something that looked like cleaning solution, especially when she was pretty sure she was about to empty the contents of her stomach all over the floor.

  “No-o,” she wheezed. She tried to shake her head but only succeeded in bringing on a worse coughing fit.

  “I wasn’t asking,” he growled in a low voice, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

  Her eyes widened in fear. He pinned her tightly against himself, tilting her head back as he poured the liquid down her throat. She felt herself choking again, and after inhaling all that smoke, she was too weak to fight him. Or maybe he was stronger than she remembered. Either way, he didn’t budge, only grunted as she clawed at his arms, his muscles tensing around her.

  Only once the entire contents of the glass had disappeared did he relent and let her go. She sat up and gasped for breath, glaring at him.

  He set the glass down and glared right back. “Better?” he asked, exasperation leaking into his tone.

  “Loads,” she said sarcastically, scooting to the corner of the couch to get a little farther away from him. “Thanks for stopping before you drowned me.”

  “I wasn’t drowning you, I was saving you,” he countered. “And you’re not unconscious or hacking up a lung anymore, so I’d call it an improvement.”

  “I…” She stopped, mentally accounting for the different complaints in her body, suddenly coming up short. Much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She wasn’t sure how, but she was breathing clearly now, and all her nausea seemed to have disappeared. Somehow, she felt remarkably better.

  She looked at him in surprise. “What was in that?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he stood and paced back and forth in front of her, running a hand through his hair. “What in Eprah’s name were you doing out there, Sage? You could’ve been killed.”

  “So could you,” she said angrily, looking up at him. Urging her body to obey, she forced herself to stand up on legs that were still a little wobbly. “I felt the ground shaking and saw something happened at the Cabinet, and I thought you might be there. I was wor—I was looking for you.”

  Everett’s mouth fell open in surprise. “Why? You hate me.”

  “Well, if you say so, then.” Sage rolled her eyes. “I have a funny way of showing it.”

  “It’s just guilt. Over the other night,” he mumbled to
himself.

  “If you’re saying I feel guilty about the other night—well, yeah. But I don’t hate you, Everett. I just don’t get you.” She crossed her arms. “Although I might’ve hated you for a minute there when I thought you were trying to drown me.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “I know.” She waved dismissively, then tilted her head. “What was in that drink?”

  “It was nothing,” he said, brushing her question aside. “Just something that helps neutralize toxins, absorb excess gasses… part of an emergency med kit.”

  Sage’s eyebrow shot up. “And you just happened to have some of it in our kitchen?”

  He shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “Never hurts to be prepared.”

  “Right,” she said dubiously, “which is why I have an outfit that works for most occasions. Not a med kit that covers super rare, horrible… things.”

  “Rare? Please.” He snorted. “It was only a matter of time before something like this happened.”

  Her eyebrow shot up. “What do you mean?”

  “The Lawless? Attacking Eprah?” He waited for some sort of acknowledgment, but she just stared back at him blankly. “Oh, c’mon, Sage. You know the Lawless hate Eprah. That’s not news.”

  “No.” She frowned. “I mean, yeah, I know that. But they don’t attack people in Eprah. That’s not what they do.”

  “It was the Lawless,” he said again, more firmly this time. “Who else would it be?”

  “Why would they attack the Cabinet?”

  “I don’t think they did exactly.”

  “Um, were you there?” she scoffed. “What would you call that if not an attack?”

  “Oh, it was definitely an attack,” he agreed quickly, “but I don’t think it was on the Cabinet. I think they meant to attack the Quorum.”

  “What?” Sage’s lips parted in surprise. An attack like that would be a really bold move.

  “Think about it. They could’ve picked any time, but they chose the morning—just before everyone got there for the day. They obviously weren’t going for casualties. There wasn’t anyone inside the building—except the Quorum was supposed to be meeting early today, and the Lawless probably knew about that somehow. It wasn’t exactly a secret.”

  “I didn’t know,” Sage mumbled.

  “You don’t work at the Cabinet.” Everett shrugged.

  “Ok, but the Lawless have nothing against us. Just Eprah. They don’t attack us,” she protested again.

  “Yes, they do,” he said slowly, his forehead wrinkling in confusion at her reaction. “This has been going on for years—they just never talked about it in the Institution because it doesn’t fit in the neat and tidy box they’ve made for Eprah.”

  “Oh, sure. Right.” She rolled her eyes. Mr. Walsh had never said anything about attacking people. “And you know all this how?”

  “I keep my head down and my ears open,” he retorted. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

  Sage’s mouth fell open. Indignation and anger bubbled up inside her, but she wasn’t sure how to respond to his slight. It wasn’t like she could defend herself without confessing her previous involvement with the Lawless.

  Forcing herself to ignore his biting comments, she focused on what he’d said earlier. “Do you think they killed the Quorum?” she asked quietly.

  “No idea. But I’m sure we’ll know soon enough if they did.”

  She nodded thoughtfully.

  “The explosion was too big to ignore or explain away. They can’t use their usual methods to address this,” he explained matter-of-factly. “If the Lawless wanted to make a point, they did a good job.”

  “You shouldn’t—” Sage swallowed nervously. “If you keep saying this kind of stuff, I’m going to have to report you.”

  Everett stared at her for a moment, studying her. “No.”

  Sage’s nostrils flared. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

  A weary look crossed his face. He rubbed his forehead. “I mean, we’re not in the Institution anymore. We’re adults. If you don’t like what I’m saying, you don’t have to report me because you can use that.” He pointed to her bracelet.

  Sage recoiled, pulling her wrist to her chest. “You want me to strip your Chances?” she asked, horrified at what he was implying.

  “Not particularly.” His lip twitched. “I didn’t really like it the last time you did.”

  “I told you I was sorry,” she said, lowering her eyes as her cheeks burned with shame.

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t threaten me after I save your life.”

  “I was out there looking for you,” she reminded him. “And I’m not threatening you. I’m just saying—”

  “You’re just saying you’ll turn me in or strip my Chances or both,” he said evenly. “I mean, that’s just what you’re supposed to do, right? As a law-abiding citizen? Maintain Eprah’s laws and ensure loyalty?”

  She clenched her jaw. “You want to talk about loyalty? Duty? The law’s on my side here.”

  “Please. You’ve already started picking and choosing which laws to obey.” He threw his hands up in the air, raising his voice as he continued. “Like us. You know we’re not supposed to just be roommates. But for some reason, you’d rather get me killed than follow the rules.”

  Sage glared at him, her breathing turning shallow. Eprah was probably listening to every word they said. This conversation had officially become dangerous. Her mind raced. She needed to put a stop to this for both their sakes. Now.

  “Ev—I—wa-ter,” she croaked, putting a hand to her mouth as she sprinted to the bathroom.

  He took the bait. Grabbing the glass, he ran into the bathroom after her.

  Keeping her hand over her mouth, she stepped aside so that he could get to the faucet and fill her glass. But as soon as he reached for it, she slammed the door shut behind him.

  Everett spun around in alarm, immediately reaching for the door. Sage held her hand out to stop him, putting a finger to her lips as she shook her head. This was the only way to talk privately. Eprah’s prying eyes didn’t reach this far. Probably.

  She reached behind him and flicked on the water before grabbing a fistful of his shirt. His eyes widened in surprise as she jerked him forward. “You told me once that you weren’t an idiot,” she growled in a low voice.

  “I’m not,” he said stonily, peeling her hand from his shirt and flipping the faucet off.

  “Then stop acting like one,” she snapped, scowling as she turned the water back on, eliciting a look of annoyance from him.

  “I’d like to think I’m not an idiot for trying to help you. Glad you’re suddenly feeling better, by the way,” he added dryly.

  “I’m not talking about me running to the bathroom.” She leaned back against the sink, staying close to the sound of running water, hoping it would be enough to mask their conversation from Eprah’s eavesdropping.

  “Oh, really?” He rolled his eyes. “Then enlighten me.”

  “You’re being careless. Saying things no one should say. Saying things that only the Lawless would agree with.”

  “What’s the big deal? You’re trying to tell me that I can’t say what I think?” He let out a derisive snort. “It’s not like I’m gonna get shunned—and if you’re not going to take any more of my Chances, then what can really happen?”

  “What can happen?” she practically screeched, still trying to keep her voice low. “Have you been paying any attention at all? Do you know what Eprah does to the Lawless?”

  He crossed his arms. “I never said I was Lawless.”

  “Well, you’re acting more and more like you are, and I doubt Eprah will care whether you’re a zealot or a sympathizer. They’ll bleed you for information until they kill you. If you’re lucky. If not…” An image of Mr. Walsh flashed to the front of her mind, and her face twisted in pain. “I can’t protect you from it anymore,” she whimpered.

  Everett’s eyes widened for a split second, then narrowed. �
��What do you mean ‘anymore’?” His voice came out low, husky.

  Sage’s heart slammed against her chest. She’d said more than she meant to. “Nothing.”

  “It doesn’t sound like nothing.”

  “Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean a whole lot coming from an idiot,” she hissed.

  “Sage—”

  “Forget it! I’m just worried your stupidity is going to get me killed too.”

  “Not a chance. You know something you’re not saying.” He leaned over her, his expression darkening. “You owe me an explanation.”

  “I don’t owe you anything.”

  “You owe me the truth!” He slammed his fist on the sink. Sage cringed, closing her eyes. “I told you I’d wait—I wouldn’t make you—make us… Gah! If you’re going to let me die, you at least owe me the truth!”

  Sage opened her eyes slowly. Everett stood inches away, staring at her, taking shallow breaths. She stood face to face with his solid chest, watching it rise and fall quickly for a few moments before she got up the courage to say something.

  Swallowing hard, she lifted her eyes to his and said softly, “You wouldn’t even believe me.”

  His voice rumbled deep in her bones. “You constantly underestimate me.”

  Twisting her hands together, she forced herself to keep looking him in the eye. She needed to read his reaction to know the truth. If Everett was a plant—if this was some horrific trap designed by Mr. Gaztok—what she was about to say could get her killed. But he’d just saved her life. And she’d known him for years—he didn’t seem like the type of person that would spy for Eprah. Of course, that’s exactly what would make him the perfect spy.

  She bit her lip. She had to make a decision.

  “This isn’t the first time you’ve said things that could get you—us—in trouble.”

  His eye twitched, but he pursed his lips together tightly, letting her continue.

  “You’ve said things about Eprah before—bad things.” She let out a shaky breath as he inclined his head ever so slightly in acknowledgment. “I… made sure those conversations disappeared.”