Awoken (The Lucidites Book 1)

by Sarah Noffke

  “You.” I point at him with my eyes. “You saved my life.” I pull breath from the back of my aching lungs. “Again.”

  “Just doing my job.” His eyes beam behind his glasses. He looks happier than I’ve ever seen him as he rushes in and presses his lips against mine. For the second time that day, electricity pulses through me. Drawing back he smiles and winks. “Now you owe me big.”

  I reach for him, but he simultaneously turns, sensing an approaching noise. The door slides open and faces pour into the room. Aiden retreats. Before I settle myself I’m engulfed by hugs and crowded by concerned faces. Their gazes reach out at me, but don’t truly connect. Sorrow traces the edges of everyone’s expression. These are faces which have just felt death.

  Samara forces a weak smile to her lips. Trent pushes his hands into his pockets, maintaining eye contact with the floor. George—the only one to look directly at me—pierces me with remorse. “George!” My heart jumps into my throat. I push off the GAD-C, rushing to where he stands. My unsteady feet make me stagger forward. He catches me in his arms and wrenches me close, closer than I would have anticipated. Our faces meet, but only briefly before he senses my unease and lets me slide away.

  “So, you’re all right?” I ask, gripping his strong forearms.

  A twinkle shoots through his brown eyes. “More than ever.” He clutches me with urgency, pressing me against him. I awkwardly hold his neck and torso with my arms. His breaths are ones of strained relief and open the wound in my heart.

  Shaking, I push away. He lets me go, but stays firmly gripping my hand. The look in his eyes makes me feel fragile. “But… I thought Zhuang had…”

  “No.” He shakes his head in a deliberate manner. “I got away.”

  The words flex in my mouth, but I haven’t the strength to say them. Whitney. Joseph. They didn’t get away.

  Trey clears his throat. “Welcome back, Roya.” His voice steady, eyes red.

  The others stare awkwardly.

  “We know you’ve just awoken and need rest. The team just needed to lay their eyes on you first. We’ve all been very worried.” Trey’s voice catches on the last word.

  “Where’s Joseph?” My voice is desperate, scared.

  No one answers. They all look away. They’re cowards who won’t tell me what I now know to be true.

  My nostrils flare. I urge the tears to remain inside. I hold my breath. Zhuang really did kill them…

  Trey continues. I can’t focus. His words pass through me as the inevitable truth sets in. Eyes locked on the ground, I make no attempts to listen to Trey. All I manage is to give audience to the thoughts racing in my crowded head. My only family—gone. How could this happen? Wasn’t I the one who was supposed to die? Why Joseph? Without him how will I make sense of my life as a Lucidite? Without him, without him, without him…I’m alone.

  The long inhale I took moments prior is running out. Trey is silent now. Pain around my heart rises until it settles as a lump in my throat. I’m not going to cry, not here, not in front of everyone.

  “I’ve got to go.” I rush out of the room. Trey calls after me, but I ignore him. Tears are already clouding my vision. The drain is evident in my body. I lean forward. Will my legs to move. My steps are slow and clumsy. I can hardly manage walking; running is out of the question. Each step seeps my reserves. The thought of crawling to the elevator crosses my mind. The lump is now in the back of my mouth. Any second, emotion will spill out of me. I already miss him so much.

  My pride is the only thing willing me forward. Without it I surely will pass out in the hallway. This pain is mine though. I need to be alone with it. The elevators appear in my cloudy vision. Only ten feet or so. I can make it. Soon I’ll be in my room, with a door and solitude. Then I’ll let go.

  The light radiates from the elevator button, a welcome sight. I blink back tears. The button, smooth under my fingertips, clicks when I press it. Steadier now, I glance back over my shoulder to make sure I’m not being followed.

  I am.

  I’ve heard of ghosts visiting their loved ones soon after their passing to offer comfort, to ease the pain. I’m not ready yet. It’s too soon. He should know that. Twenty feet away, standing squarely in the corridor, Joseph’s ghost stares at me. Swallowing back a piece of the tears, I tap the button rapidly. I bat my eyes, believing the extra moisture is playing tricks on me. He hovers in place for a second, then labors forward.

  “Not nice to make me chase you, but I’ll do it if I have to.” There’s a rattle to Joseph’s voice. A wheeze as he limps.

  My disillusions meet my reality head on. I scan the approaching figure. White bandages wrap around his bare torso. Exhaustion contorts his face. A mischievous smile is tucked at the corner of his mouth.

  Determined, Joseph pushes forward, alternating between focusing on the ground and my stunned face. I have just taken that walk. I know it took all the strength I had to complete it. Now I stand renewed at the end, watching and trying to piece it all together.

  “You’re not dead,” I say, bewildered and grateful.

  “’Course not.” Joseph laughs and immediately grimaces in pain. “I told Trey and the team not to tell you about me. I wanted to surprise you.”

  I shake my head. The urge to slap him in the head courses through me. “Surprise!? Are you out of your mind? I thought you were dead.” A tear edges to the surface. I blink it back. I swallow.

  “I’m sorry. Poor decision on my part. I wasn’t thinking clearly obviously. After I heard you returned…When they said you were awake….Well, I tried to get to you as fast I could.”

  The ache in my throat has returned, but it’s different. Joseph stands in front of me, his form solid and real. He’s hurt and weak. But alive. “You almost got yourself killed, you stupid idiot,” I say. I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze extra hard to ensure he’s real. His arms around me squeeze back.

  “You’re one to talk, Stark.” He laughs and then yelps in pain. “Watch the ribs, will ya, sis?”

  I pull back and look him over, taking in the edge of a smile on his face coupled with the tears in his eyes.

  “Are you all right?” I ask.

  “I’m as good as a bullfrog on a summer’s night,” he sings.

  “Whatever that means.” I smile broadly, relief spreading over the pain.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  I arrive first for the debriefing in room 222 the next morning. Bagels, fruit, coffee, and juice make the room less bare. Soon everyone arrives and they adorn the room with life. The sound of Samara and Trent chatting, Trey stirring his coffee, Joseph scribbling on paper; these are the sounds of life. Gratitude encircles me in a way I have yet to experience. My face flushes with warmth.

  “Before we begin,” Trey says, “will you please join me in a moment of silence? Yesterday we lost a talented Lucidite and a wonderful member of this team. Whitney’s memory will not be forgotten.” Trey’s words are formal, yet sincere.

  Just hearing Whitney’s name for the first time after the ordeal makes my insides burn with disgust. What Zhuang did to her was cruel. Heartless. Cowardly. The backs of my eyes prickle with tears when I think about her alone in that room, dying quietly as Zhuang’s blade cut into her. I shake my head and push back the emotion. Right now I haven’t the energy to grieve.

  During the debriefing I learn we don’t really know whether to celebrate or not. Apparently, they were able to follow the events of what happened during the battle from the camera footage I provided. Once I returned to the Institute, Ren and Shuman traveled to the water treatment plant where they didn’t find Zhuang’s body.

  After the fight thousands of hallucinators were released and are apparently regaining their consciousness. Conversely, an equal number of sleepwalkers, those further under Zhuang’s control, died within hours following the battle. The public doesn’t know how to interpret the events and are calling it a viral epidemic. This was a big news day, coupled with the tsunami in Hawaii, which devastat
ed that area.

  Trey thinks it’s most likely that Zhuang has survived and taken the lives of those sleepwalkers to recover. However, his energy reserves would have been depleted and therefore his connection with the hallucinators severed.

  “Nevertheless, it’s just as likely that the opposite is true and Zhuang is in fact dead,” Trey says. “In time, we’ll know for sure. He never stays quiet for long.”

  Trey is the only one who has spoken so far. It’s nice when George, Trent, and Samara are given a chance to speak. Each explains individually how they returned to the Institute once they knew Zhuang was on their trail. Then they gathered around a screen in this meeting room and watched the battle.

  “I felt helpless watching,” Samara says. “I knew he was about to hit you with a dart too, but there was nothing I could do. He actually chose the forest because he knew that would slow down your clairvoyance and block my telepathic link with you.” I remember the feelings of apathy I harbored when I used to visit the woods by my house. This was from Zhuang’s influence. Ren had said it was a form of hypnotism.

  “Watching him beat the crud out of you was the worst for me,” Trent says with a sigh. “I’m just glad we couldn’t see your face.”

  “Yeah,” I agree, feeling a realization surface. “Why don’t I have a million bruises and internal bleeding right now?”

  “You can thank Mae for that,” Trey informs me. “She’s the lady who hooked you up before you traveled last night. She’s a powerful healer. Under the right circumstances, if she’s quick enough to act on an injury, she can reverse it. Aiden called her right after he revived you. She was able to remove and mend most of the injuries, with the exception of the burn.”

  The burn on my forearm is exactly the length of my bracelet, which I’m now wearing on the opposite wrist.

  “I suspect,” Trey continues, “the severity of that burn was so intense that Mae was not able to mend it. You’ll have a scar there forever, but your protective charm will cover it.”

  George has been sitting quietly in the corner with his arms crossed the entire time. He’s hardly looked at me since he walked into the room. Finally his voice splinters the air around me. “For me”—he pauses and swallows—“the hardest part was once you realized the bracelet created an electrical force when it touched Zhuang. I knew you were going to throw yourself into the water to ensure he was electrocuted. I thought you were going to die too.” There’s a rough edge to his tone, like sandpaper.

  “But she didn’t,” Trey says at once.

  I want to ask about the bracelet, to find out why it reacted the way it did, but Trey speaks first. “Joseph, will you fill us in on how you obtained your injuries?” he asks.

  “Oh,” he laughs and points at his ribs. “This? It’s nothing. You see, I accidentally traveled to Madrid during that running of the bull event. Imagine my surprise when this animal rammed his horn up my—”

  “He’s lying,” Samara interrupts him.

  “No, really?” I say.

  “All right, well, there isn’t much to tell. I was in the room where George had been stationed, trying to stay close to Stark. Zhuang appeared before I could travel. His attack was pretty swift, but I did my best to try and fight him. We dueled for ages. I was just about to deliver the last devastating blow to finish him when I noticed my shoestring was untied.”

  I roll my eyes and force away the urge to laugh. “All that sounds very entertaining, but will you get on with what really happened.”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Joseph says, offended. “Zhuang stabbed me. I’d never experienced such pain. As soon as it happened I felt my energy completely diminish.” Shame coats Joseph’s eyes and I want to stop him, tell him it’s a useless emotion. “With my last bit of reserves I returned to the Institute. I knew immediately I’d failed you.”

  “Joseph—” I manage in a half whisper.

  “I already know what you’re gonna say,” he cuts me off. “You don’t have to. I’m just recountin’ the events. That’s what happened and I don’t like it, but I can’t change the past.”

  At this point we should just be glad we have a future.

  “I’ve never met anyone as demonic as Zhuang.” Joseph shivers, staring at the table. “He has the eeriest eyes. They’ll haunt me for the rest of my life, I’m certain of that.”

  “I hope they don’t,” Trey says matter-of-factly. He clears his throat as if he’s going to say something else, but doesn’t get a chance.

  “It’s like he stared into my soul when he plunged the sword into me. I’m afraid of what he saw,” Joseph says, locked on the table.

  “Is that why you fled?” Ren says from the back of the room. As usual, he’s eyeing his fingernails like the present conversation is boring him to death. I wish it would.

  “I was injured,” Joseph retorts, venom in his voice. “I thought I was dyin’.”

  “Roya almost died numerous times, but she didn’t desert the mission,” Ren says coolly, although the accusation is full of fire.

  “Joseph did what he thought was right at the time,” Trey says, slightly dissolving the tension building between Ren and Joseph. “He wouldn’t have been any good to Roya if he was bleeding to death.”

  “And he didn’t do her any favors by abandoning her, taking power she could have used to fight Zhuang,” Ren counters dully.

  “I thought I was helping her!” Joseph shouts. “If I was still alive then he couldn’t have her consciousness.”

  Ren laughs bitterly. “He didn’t want you. You were just in the bloody way. As long as you’re close to Roya, she’s powerful. Zhuang needed you to get away from her. I’m certain he would have preferred to kill you, but you retreated before he had the chance. Either way, he knew he had done what he needed to.”

  “That’s enough,” I say sharply. “What’s done is done. Zhuang very well could be dead and that’s because of the efforts of everyone on this team. We all did our part. I did not fight alone.”

  Trey nods at me, a subtle look of approval in his eyes. He stands, faces Ren, and says, “I’m certain Ren is only trying to provide helpful feedback.”

  Yeah, right.

  “Thank you both for your efforts training this team,” Trey continues, directing his words to both Shuman and Ren. “Is there anything else either of you’d like to add?”

  Ren shrugs indifferently and continues staring at his nails. “You all weren’t as completely useless as I thought you’d be. And Roya, you survived, which completely astonished me.”

  Shuman narrows her eyes at Ren and then leans forward and bows her head. “I salute the effort you put into battle.” Then she lifts her head and stares at me with her dark amethyst eyes. When she says nothing else I smile weakly.

  “I think that just about wraps things up,” Trey says, redirecting our attention. “Two more things before you go and rest. We’ll be having a small and intimate celebration, albeit a bit premature in my opinion. Still, I know you’ve all worked hard and even if Zhuang isn’t dead, he’s seriously weakened, which would make Flynn proud. The party will be on Friday evening.”

  Trey turns and focuses his turquoise eyes on me. There’s a pain in them, so deep, like something dark hidden at the bottom of clear water. I had never noticed it before, not quite like this. “Lastly, Roya,” he says, his tone sullen. “It’s evident that when we elected you challenger, we made the right decision. Putting you in this dangerous role was not what Flynn wanted. I, myself, questioned the news reporters’ forecast. However, I know now it had to be you.”

  He stops, deliberating, staring off in the distance. Then his focus connects on me again. “If it’s in fact true, what Zhuang said about needing your consciousness, then you’re more powerful than I previously imagined.” He half smiles at this. A sharp tenderness edges his eyes. His new role as Head of the Institute must be getting to him. This guy looks like he hasn’t slept in ages.

  A cough escapes his mouth and he says, “Please guard this power, as i
t’s both a gift and a burden.” He nods his head once, then turns and leaves.

  I’m next to follow. More than anything I need to be alone to process everything I’ve just heard. Something’s starting to well up inside me. I fear it might breach the surface soon. Joseph calls out, and then when he doesn’t again, I assume he knows what I need. I walk with urgency until I’m safely behind my door. Alone with my emotions.

  Chapter Fifty

  That evening I hear the familiar rap on my door. Patrick is idling, waiting on the other side. He smiles broadly from underneath his ball cap. “Well, hey there, sweetheart. I knew I hadn’t seen the last of you yet.”

  “I’m like a bad rash,” I say, taking the package and letter from his hands.

  “Oh yes, terribly difficult to get rid of.” He smiles before trotting off.

  I laugh when I open the container to find my dinner. Even though Joseph is probably bleeding and in pain, he’s still figured out a way to get me something to eat.

  After I finish my salad, I open the letter. It’s from Bob and Steve.

  Dear Roya,

  We’ve been celebrating since we learned of your victory. There are no two prouder people than the ones who are writing this note. You’re incredible. Always have been.

  If you need a break from the Institute, you’re always welcome to come here and live. We would love to have you. We’re sure we could keep you busy, although we think public schooling is out of the question.

  Love,

  Bob & Steve

  It’s funny they think I was victorious. I wonder if that’s the news other Lucidites received. Since I don’t know if Zhuang’s dead or not, I decide not to worry about it.

  The next day I ignore the numerous knocks at my door. I want no company. I need more time than I imagined to process. I was prepared to die, and now that I’m alive I don’t know where I want this life of mine to go. I know I should be celebrating and happy, but my future came at a price and I can’t let myself forget that. People died. People I knew.