Enemy of Gideon

by Melissa McGovern Taylor

  ►▼◄

  I arrive at the abandoned building on Street H-31 with my white umbrella in hand. The umbrella serves two helpful purposes: blocking the sun’s rays and blinding the camera’s view. Construction work on additional housing keeps the district off limits. Seeing a camera dangling from a cord high above me, I close the umbrella.

  I journey down the crumbling brick staircase to the basement door which creaks open. Candles light the dusty room, and Arkin sits on a wooden crate with an open book in his lap.

  “You came,” he says, his face brightening.

  I close the door behind me and approach him. The glowing candlelight increases his smooth features. The guy from my sketchbook appears like he did in my drawings. He no longer wears the wig and glasses.

  “Take a seat,” he says, gesturing to a crate beside him.

  I follow his instructions, setting my umbrella down on the filthy floor. “I found the book and Petra’s letter.”

  “My prayers were answered,” he says. “The Lord is faithful.”

  “Where is Petra? What happened to her?” I ask, failing to mask the desperation in my tone.

  He holds up a hand. “First, we need to get you to Corinth. If you come there with me, Josiah can scramble the chip.”

  “What chip?”

  “The computer chip, the implant, in your neck,” he says. “I told Timothy about how you forgot me, and he said they put this implant inside of enemies who have been rehabilitated. It can wipe out your memories, whatever memories they want to erase.”

  I rub the back of my neck and feel the rough scar. “They erased my memories? They said I chose to forget the trauma.”

  “When CE raided Philippi, we fled together to Corinth. After that, you were arrested.”

  “What are Philippi and Corinth?” I ask.

  “Our villages in the outskirts,” he says.

  I nearly fall off the crate. “I’ve been to the outskirts?”

  He nods. “After your arrest, CE put you into the rehab center.”

  “Wait, did we run through the woods together?”

  His eyes widen. “You remember?”

  “I kept having this nightmare that you and I were running through the woods together.”

  He reaches for my hand, and I allow him to take it. “You were my friend. I promised you I would bring you back to be with us. You were a believer.”

  My mouth falls open as I stare at him. He speaks the truth, a voice says in my mind. Listen to him. The voice startles but comforts me at the same time.

  “I want my memory back,” I say. “Take me to Corinth.”

  ►▼◄

  A family farm sits on Gideon’s western border beyond the cobblestone pavement. A young couple with three wide-eyed children lives on it and tends the land. They welcome me and Arkin with excitement and guide us to a stable behind their farmhouse.

  “Fire has been looking forward to seeing you again, Raissa,” the farmer, Mr. Garvey, says.

  “Again?” I ask.

  “Don’t you remember? You flew into the stable on Fire’s back. She loves a nice sprint,” he says, strapping the saddle to the horse’s body.

  “I rode a horse?” I ask.

  “Believe it or not, you rode a horse,” Arkin says, stroking Fire’s neck.

  My nerves unravel. Who was I before I lost my memory? And what made me change so much?

  Mr. Garvey leads the horse out of the stable. “Time to mount him and get moving, you two.”

  He uses a key, illegal in a citizen’s possession, to remove our wristbands.

  “Now you two be back before sunset,” Mrs. Garvey says. “CE officers have been known to come snooping around, making sure both our horses are accounted for.”

  “Ever since the raid, they’ve been keeping a closer eye on the farmers,” Mr. Garvey says.

  What was this raid about? Maybe this man named Josiah will be able to remove the implant, so I can remember such details. Otherwise, what other hope do I have? Without my memories, can I ever become the Raissa who dares to ride horses?

  Arkin mounts the horse as if it is as simple as sitting in a chair. I struggle to pull myself up behind him. Mr. Garvey gives me a boost, and I ease up to Arkin’s back with much hesitation.

  “Hold on tight,” Arkin warns. “Fire is fast.”

  I move in closer and put my arms around his waist. I can smell his invigorating cologne again. My proximity to a handsome guy and the prospect of flying through the woods on a beast, a reckless combination, make my heart pump faster.

  Arkin thanks the Garveys and then whispers in the horse’s ear. The mare takes off like lightning, and I squeeze Arkin so tightly I fear he may not be able to breathe. He doesn’t complain but instead leans forward as the horse bounds through the forest. I might fall off of the horse at any moment. Although we move at a phenomenal speed, time slows for me. The ride carries on and on until we arrive in a clearing among the pine trees.

  Modest cabins are scattered about in clusters before us. The windows of the buildings are open, allowing a few summer breezes to pass through. Corinth bustles with activity. Oddly-dressed people mingle about carrying baskets of fruit or clothing. Children run about, chasing one another and laughing in multi-colored clothes. I slip down from Fire’s back, stumbling as I land. Arkin leaps down, landing like a bird from the sky.

  “Raissa! Raissa!” a high-pitched voice calls.

  I turn to see a rail-thin, red-headed girl in a flowery dress running at me. The girl wraps her arms around my waist.

  “You’re back!” she yells. “You came back! I missed you!”

  I furrow my brow at Arkin.

  “Saphie,” he says, speaking to the girl but staring at me, “of course, I brought her back to see my favorite little sister.”

  “I’m your only little sister,” Saphie says, releasing me. “Where’s Ogden? I want to see Ogden.”

  My heart could’ve stopped. “Ogden? He’s been here?”

  He shakes his head. “Not here, but he’s been to Philippi.”

  This is crazy! Ogden, the son of the CE chief, went to the outskirts?

  “Saphie, we have to talk to Elder Timothy, so go play with your friends,” he says.

  Saphie groans but follows her brother’s instructions.

  “Who is Elder Timothy?” I ask, following him to one of the cabins.

  “He’s the leader of Corinth and a member of the council which governs our people,” he says. “You met him right before you were taken to rehab.”

  He knocks on the cabin door, and a woman with dark skin and hair opens it.

  “Hey, Sarai,” he says. “This is Raissa.”

  “Praise God,” she says, giving me a warm smile. “Has anyone seen her?”

  “Just Saphie,” he said, glancing over his shoulder.

  “Elder is inside. I’ll get Josiah.”

  Sarai hurries outside, and we step into the cabin. It consists of one room with some black contraption I don’t recognize sitting in the middle. A pillar connected to the top of it appears to go through the ceiling. Three corners hold a bed and a nightstand. The fourth corner looks like a make-shift kitchen. Woven rugs are scattered throughout the room. Two of the beds are empty, but a man sits in the third bed.

  Fully dressed with gray, disheveled hair, the pale man uses a cane to help himself rise from the bed. Why does he seem familiar to me? Is my memory returning? Maybe the more I explore the places Petra has been, the more I will remember.

  “Raissa,” the man says, offering his free hand. “I’m Elder Timothy. We met briefly before. I know you can’t remember.”

  I shake his cold, trembling hand. “I think I remember you. You look familiar.”

  Elder Timothy and Arkin exchange glances.

  “The memory erasing can sometimes be spotty. I’ve met people who remember faces, but nothing else,” the elder says. “Others can remember names, but most who get a chip don’t remember anything about us.”

  “I don�
��t understand,” I say. “Why was Sarai asking if anyone saw me?”

  Arkin’s eyes drop to the floor, avoiding mine.

  “It might be easier to explain once your memory returns,” the elder says.

  “Can you at least tell me why I became a believer?” I ask. “And why did my sister become one?”

  “You should have answers very soon,” he says. “Josiah is a genius. God gave him a real gift for undoing the harm of Code Enforcement.”

  The door opens behind us, and Sarai and Josiah, a man in glasses, enter. He carries a peculiar-looking electronic device in each hand.

  “Okay, take a seat, Raissa,” Josiah says.

  I follow his instructions, tapping my foot while I wait.

  “This won’t hurt at all, but you do need to stay still,” he says, setting one of the instruments on the bed. “First, we confirm the implant’s location.”

  I sit still as a statue while Josiah hovers a box-shaped instrument over my neck. The object makes unusual beeping noises with a noise like rushing water. Arkin, Sarai, and Timothy watch on, leaning close with brows furrowed. Sarai closes her eyes and whispers, clasping her hands over her chest. Is she praying?

  “That’s odd,” Josiah says.

  “What’s wrong?” Elder Timothy asks.

  “I’m not finding it in her neck, and her scar is higher than …” The device beeps in rapid succession. “It’s not in her neck.”

  “But they always put it there,” Sarai says, opening her eyes.

  Josiah shakes his head. “It’s at the base of her brain.”

  Arkin gasps. “Can’t you still fry it?”

  “I can try, but if they’re placing it somewhere new, it may not even be the same type of chip,” Josiah says. “It might be something more advanced. I’ll do the best I can. We have to leave the rest to the Lord.”

  He puts down the first device, picks up a blue, rectangular device, and places it over the base of my head.

  “You shouldn’t feel anything,” he says. “Stay still.”

  I hold still and wait. Three seconds pass before Josiah removes the device and steps back from me.

  I look up at him. “How long does it take to remember?”

  “A matter of seconds,” he says. “People say the memories start to come at you in waves.”

  I wait for the first wave to hit. I wait a full minute, but it never comes.

  “Anything?” Arkin asks.

  I sigh. “No.”

  Sarai cries, pushing the tears away with the back of her hands. “Lord Jesus, please help her remember.”

  I search my mind for a single memory to hang on to, something from the past. I take myself back even farther than I need to go. My father took me to fly a kite once. The memory exists in flashes. The kite tore, and I cried over it. My dad said, “I don’t need a kite. I have one right here.” I remember Daddy lifting me up on his shoulders and running with me. I stopped crying and laughed with him.

  “I can’t remember you,” I say to Arkin, my hope slipping away.

  “Then we know what we need to do,” Elder Timothy says.

  “What?” Arkin asks.

  “Gather the village together,” he says. “We’re going to pray.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “Elder, I don’t think this is going to work,” Arkin says as we walk toward a clearing in the village.

  “Have faith,” he says.

  “But many people are still upset about the—”

  The elder raises a hand, silencing Arkin, but he says nothing to counter his point.

  The people of Corinth, nearly two hundred of them, gather in the clearing where crude, wooden benches are set out for seating in front of a podium made of tree logs. Old and young take seats on the benches. When room runs out on the benches, people gather around the edge of the clearing. Arkin and I stand beside the podium where Elder Timothy waits for everyone’s attention.

  “Friends, we come together for an emergency,” he says in a commanding voice I don’t expect to come from such a sickly body. “Raissa is here with us, and she needs our help.”

  “Why is she back here?” a man asks, standing at the back. “She compromised Philippi!”

  “We don’t know for certain who compromised Philippi,” Elder Timothy says.

  “What about our safety? She could be bugged,” an elderly woman says from the second row.

  Elder Timothy raises his hands. “The Word of the Lord says, ‘Fear not—”

  “The raid happened after she brought the CE chief’s son to Philippi!” a woman yells, standing and pointing at me.

  More voices join in with hers and murmurs echo through the crowd. Some people shoot accusing glances my way. Others look at me with pity. What’s happening here? I don’t know what they’re talking about! Arkin steps closer to me and places an arm over my shoulders.

  “Did I cause the raid?” I ask him.

  He shakes his head.

  “Enough!” Elder Timothy yells, banging his fist on the podium.

  His voice and the bang startle the crowd into silence. Arkin releases me and steps to the podium. He whispers something to Elder Timothy, who backs away from the podium to let him have the floor.

  “My name is Arkin of Philippi,” he says to the crowd. “I was sent on a mission to Gideon to bring Raissa Santos to my village. I thought I felt God leading me to bring Ogden Penski, the CE chief’s son too.”

  The crowd murmurs.

  Arkin swallows, and his eyes redden. “Raissa is not the one who caused the raid. That was my fault. With my father’s permission, I invited Ogden to Philippi and compromised the entire village.” He pauses to take a shaky breath. “The deaths of our fellow believers, the deaths of my mother and father, were my fault.”

  The crowd’s murmurs fade. People wipe away tears and reach out to comfort each other.

  His parents are dead because of me and Ogden? I couldn’t wrap my mind around it all. He was a stranger to me, and yet, he and I had been through something traumatic.

  “It’s not your fault, Arkin,” a woman says from the front row. “You were doing God’s will.”

  “They were too careless!” a voice shouts, but I can’t find the owner.

  “She doesn’t belong here!” another adds.

  “How can we allow this boy to take the blame?” a man says to the crowd. “He’s grieving like all of us!”

  Others shout in protest as two women from the front row stand and approach Arkin, hugging him as he wipes the tears from his face.

  The believers continue arguing with each other. Elder Timothy tries to shout over them, but he coughs, unable to control the crowd.

  “Quiet! Let the elder speak!” a woman shouts. Others join her, and soon the entire clearing falls silent.

  Elder Timothy clears his throat. “Friends, we cannot allow our feelings to divide us. Raissa and Arkin need our support. I have gathered you all together to lift up Raissa in prayer because Gideon has erased her memories of us.”

  Some believers murmur in disapproval, shaking their heads and offering expressions of pity. Others make their way out of the clearing, and more follow until only half remain.

  Elder Timothy looks at me and Arkin with a somber expression. My gut twists. I wish I could leave this place. They don’t seem to want anything to do with me. Why should I stay?

  “We must pray for God to restore her memory,” the elder continues, “because our technology to restore her memory has now become obsolete. Our only hope is in the power of the Lord, so please join with me as we pray.”

  The people bow their heads and close their eyes. Citizens always rise in unison for the anthem of Gideon or to honor the founder but not with this level of reverence.

  “Heavenly Father, we praise You and honor You for bringing Raissa back to us,” Elder Timothy prays. “This young lady is very important to us and to Your Kingdom. We pray right now that You would restore her memory. You can do all things, so we ask in Jesus’ name that You wou
ld heal her mind and help her to remember us. Help her to remember the day she gave her life to You.”

  I can’t understand what Timothy means by those words, but a strong impulse to pray overcomes me. I bow my head and close my eyes as Timothy’s arm falls around my shoulders. Warmth envelopes me. Other hands fall upon my shoulders and back. Hands cover my head and neck. All around me, voices whisper.

  Please, God, give me back my memory, I pray. I want to remember these people. I want to remember who You are.

  My mind returns to the dream of dancing with Arkin. He laughed. I stepped on his toes. He wore a blue shirt and brown shorts. A violin played amazing music.

  “Raissa! I’ve never seen you smile so much,” he said.

  Why was I smiling so much?

  Mom cried herself to sleep in the bed. They bruised Petra’s face. Arkin taught me about the Bible and God months ago. The city-state executed my father as an enemy. They executed Petra too. Ulysses Gideon was a traitor. CE captured Arkin’s parents during the raid on Philippi. Hunter was a spy for CE. Dr. Harget lied to me about not working for Code Enforcement. They strapped me to a bed at the rehabilitation center and drugged me. They made me memorize the Code by shocking me. Arkin held me while I wept on the floor during worship. My sins were forgiven. Jesus entered my life and set me free.

  “I remember,” I say, opening my eyes. “It worked! I remember!”

  The crowd backs away, faces peer over shoulders at me. I even recognize some from Philippi.

  Arkin stands in the crowd. “You remember?”

  “I remember you, Arkin,” I say.

  “Hallelujah!” Elder Timothy yells and other voices echo his.

  Arkin wraps his arms around me and lifts me from my feet. I hold him, not wanting to let him go. Every conversation, every moment with him becomes fresh in my mind again. Everything I love about him, everything I know about him all comes flooding back.

  Some believers lift their hands to the sky. Others weep with joy. Some fall on their knees. Somewhere in the crowd, a person sings a lovely melody about the awesomeness of God. The rest break into song too. Arkin pulls back and sings with tears in his eyes.