ANOM: Awakening (The ANOM Series Book 1)

by Jason R. James

  In theory, her problem was a simple one: Once you take off your anchor, how will you remember to put it back on again? As for the solution, it would prove more difficult. At first, Lara thought she could write herself a note, but then she realized there were too many variables. A note could be lost. In her panic she might not see it.

  So instead Lara began her new morning routine. Every day for the next two weeks she did the same thing: wake-up at four, go to the bathroom, see the locket on the mirror, and put it on. There was no danger—at least not yet. She was still wearing her bracelet and ring to bed, but by day 11, when she was putting the locket around her neck before she could even think about what she was doing, Lara knew she was on to something.

  Then a new thought: What if she freaked herself out when she first woke up? Any sign of panic could ruin the whole routine. So she started her affirmations: My name is Lara Miller, and it will all be fine.

  She said it over and over in her head for a week, every time using the same slow, commanding voice: My name is Lara Miller, and it will all be fine.

  It was the last thing she said before she went to sleep and it was the first thing she made herself say when she woke up: My name is Lara Miller, and it will all be fine.

  After four weeks, there was nothing left to do but try it. She pushed the table in her room in front of the door—one last barricade to slow her escape in the morning if she woke up and none of it worked—and she wrote herself a letter explaining everything and left it on the table. Then she put her ring on top of the note. One last failsafe, just in case.

  She hung her locket on the bathroom mirror like she had been doing for the last month. Then she got into bed and turned off the lights. She waited until she was completely exhausted, blinking in and out of sleep, and then she took off her bracelet and tossed it on top of her alarm clock. She thought, at the least, her hand might hit the bracelet when she turned off the alarm. That was the last thing she remembered.

  The next thing Lara remembered, she was staring at herself in the bathroom mirror, holding her locket, and she felt…good. It wasn’t a perfect system—she knew that much. There were gaps—variables she would need to address in the future—but still, it was better than what she had before. That was four years ago.

  Lara looked across the bed at Ellison, his back facing her as he pulled the sheets tighter around his body. The major wasn’t perfect either—she knew that too—but he was the answer to at least one of her problems.

  Lara was always concerned about what she would do in an emergency at night. What if a siren went off? What then? Her routine would be lost, and so would she, but not with Ellison. If nothing else, he would take care of her. He would get her out of harm’s way and back to Reah Labs. She would be safe with him, even without her anchors. Lara trusted him that much.

  Ellison mumbled from his side of the bed, “We have time. Come back to bed.”

  He reached back, groping for Lara’s hand, but before they could touch Lara stood up from the bed and walked away.

  She refused to touch Ellison while she was wearing her anchors. It was a self-imposed restriction that the major resented, but Lara refused to compromise. In her opinion, it wasn’t worth the risk. It was a lesson she learned from experience. Did Ellison have secrets? Lara was sure he did, and that was exactly how she wanted it. She had seen too much in her short life—too many dark thoughts and impulsive urges. Knowing someone like that was seldom worth it.

  Lara dressed in her skirt, blouse, and jacket from yesterday.

  She turned back to the bed. “I need to go, and you need to wake up. We’re going to be late.”

  Ellison answered with a grunt.

  When Lara walked out of the room, he was still in bed. She went quickly down the hallway to the elevator and up two floors.

  If Lara had actually cared about the opinions of the soldiers or the other scientists from Reah Labs, she might have been embarrassed to be seen in her clothes from yesterday. As it was, she didn’t care. Most of them already knew about her sleeping arrangements, so why did it matter? Even so, as she reached the door to her room, Lara felt a sense of relief at making the brief trek without passing another soul in the hallway.

  She walked into her room and opened her closet. It was filled with skirts and jackets in various shades of blue, black, and gray. She thumbed through the hangers.

  “Morning, love.”

  Lara spun around. “What the hell?”

  Hayden stood inside her room, dragging on his cigarette. “Sorry about that. Maybe I should come through the door and add to your reputation instead?”

  Lara bit her tongue; she kept her voice even. “What do you want, Ghost?”

  “What do I want or why am I here?” Hayden’s lip curled as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth; he didn’t wait for Lara to answer. “I’m here because we’ve got a change of orders from Reah. Seems they’re interested in your newest recruit.”

  Lara’s face twisted. “Why?”

  “Some connection between the kid and his father, some scientist they misplaced.”

  Lara shook her head. “G-Force’s father is dead. He died in the Philadelphia hospital bombings.”

  Hayden shrugged. “I couldn’t care less. I’m telling you the orders.” He dragged on his cigarette and looked at her. “You able to get anything from him yet?”

  Lara’s eyes went cold. She understood the implication—it had followed her since Kingman. When she answered, her voice held an edge. “No. I told you, he’s spiked.”

  “Keep trying then, at least for now.” Hayden flicked the ash from the end of his cigarette. “Reah’s sending in Heatsink and Squid. You know ‘em?”

  Lara shook her head. “Who’d they put in charge?”

  Hayden poked himself in the chest. “Still me.”

  “Then keep those two on a leash. I’m just going to need time—”

  Hayden dragged on his cigarette. “We all get what we get. Best I can do, love.”

  Hayden turned and walked toward the wall, his body becoming translucent as he stepped through. Then Hayden was gone, and Lara was left alone.

  Chapter 18

  Jeremy knew he was still asleep. He knew his eyes were closed and he was lying in his bed, but he was also strangely conscious, aware of the room around him—the quiet and the stillness and the dark. Something had roused him from a deeper sleep. A noise, maybe? A feeling? It didn’t matter.

  “Jeremy.” A loud voice—familiar—filled the room. Then a blinding flash of light from behind his eyelids, and just like that Jeremy was awake. He was more than awake. He was up, on his feet, dressed, and standing in the emergency room of his dad’s hospital. He could see the beige walls, and the beds with white sheets filled with patients, and the pale fluorescent lighting. He could smell the stale, citrus cleanser they used on the floors. And he could see his dad standing in front of him, staring into the distance.

  It was all somehow real—impossible, he knew—but real. It was strange and familiar, both at the same time. It was like he had stood there a thousand times, only he couldn’t remember when…not entirely.

  “Dad?”

  “Hey, bud,” Jonathan Cross answered without turning to look at his son. “How’s it going?”

  “Dad! This is— There’s so much I need—”

  “Listen, Jeremy, I don’t have much time,” Jonathan Cross still didn’t turn, but his voice changed; it was hard now. “What are you still doing at Fort Blaney? I told you to leave.”

  Jeremy could feel his own smile fade. “I don’t know. It’s not that easy to leave, I guess. I mean, I can’t just walk out—”

  “Why not? I saw what you’re capable of, Jeremy. No one on that base can stop you now.”

  Jeremy laughed. “I don’t know about that, Dad. The explosives they stuck in my head might disagree with you.”

  “You think I don’t know about that too?” Jonathan’s voice was thinner now—urgent. “You control gravity, Jeremy. Crush the damn chip
and walk yourself out the front door.”

  “I can’t.” Jeremy lowered his eyes. “I can’t do that. I can’t control my powers like that. I don’t know how.”

  “That’s an excuse. I already told you: You make your choice and then you live with it. That’s how this works. That’s how it’s always worked. Your power—your ability—it’s there when you need it. And you know that too. So what’s your real problem?”

  “I don’t… They’re helping people here, Dad. If I stay, I can help too. Isn’t that what you were trying to do when—”

  “Who are you helping, Jeremy? Who?” Jonathan still didn’t move; he stared straight ahead. “You don’t know these people—not like I do. I’m telling you now, the only people they want to help are themselves. They want money, and power, and control, and they will use you to get it. And when they can’t use you anymore, then they’ll kill you. That’s what this place is. It’s a factory, and you need to leave. Today.”

  Jeremy looked up at his dad. “You don’t know anything about it. You don’t—”

  “I know enough. I know you need to leave—”

  “You’re dead!” Jeremy finally screamed, and all at once the anger and hurt and regret—all of it poured out. Jeremy hated himself for saying it, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. “You’re dead, dad. You don’t know anything about this place because you’re dead. You left mom and you left me, and this is nothing but my sick dream because I’m so desperate to talk to you again—to get your approval—but even here…you’re dead.”

  “No, bud.” Jonathan Cross turned his head and finally looked Jeremy in the eye. “I’m not.”

  Suddenly there was noise and motion and life in the emergency room. From his right, Jeremy heard a voice yell, “For the Red Moon!” and next to him, his dad whispered, “Jeremy.”

  Then came the explosion.

  *****

  Jeremy bolted out of the bed and onto his feet, slapping his hands against his chest. His breathing was ragged, but he was all right. He knew he wasn’t just torn apart in an explosion—the same blast that killed his dad. Whatever else he doubted, he was certain of that.

  Jeremy tried to slow himself down. “It was just a dream. Only a dream.” Even as he said it, Jeremy knew that was a lie. Maybe it was a dream, but it was also something more. He was certain of that too.

  A pulsing alarm filled the room, and neon blue numbers flashed on the video screen. Five o’clock, time to wake up.

  Jeremy waved his hand in front of the screen, and the buzzing stopped. He stumbled to his right, into the bathroom. He showered, shaved, and brushed his teeth, and by the time he was done, he was feeling better. Maybe it was just a dream. He could try and make himself believe that.

  He walked out of the bathroom and got dressed. He wore another blue compression shirt paired with black cargo pants and boots. Apparently, like it or not, this would be his uniform.

  Finally he stepped out of the room and walked toward the kitchen. Just like yesterday, Nyx was already there, leaning against the counter with a white bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. She only raised her eyes, shoveling another spoonful of the oatmeal into her mouth.

  Jeremy smiled. “Morning.”

  No answer.

  He took a glass from one of the cabinets, filled it halfway with orange juice, and drank it down, still staring at Nyx.

  Jeremy shook his head. “So that’s it? Even after yesterday? I stood up for you, you know.”

  “No one asked you to.” Nyx turned away, dropping her bowl and spoon into the sink.

  “Are you kidding me?” Jeremy’s face twisted. Maybe he and Nyx would never be best friends—Jeremy could concede as much—but this? She seemed angrier today than before. It didn’t make sense.

  Nyx walked out of the kitchen and back toward her room without another word.

  Jeremy turned to watch her go. He didn’t get it—couldn’t make himself understand. When they won the game yesterday—no, when Nyx won the game for them—it was like she was a different person. She was happy—excited. Then Ellison crushed all that. He ripped it away from her, and Jeremy was the one who stepped up. He was the one who made it stop.

  Another door slid open, and Talon stumbled into the Rec Room. He was rubbing his hand up and down along the back of his head, yawning and still trying to wake himself up. He spotted Nyx just as she reached her door.

  Talon plastered on a fake smile. “Good morning, sunshine.”

  Nyx looked over at him and gave him the finger. Then she stepped inside her room.

  Talon walked into the kitchen, nodding and laughing at Jeremy. “Morning.”

  “I don’t get her problem.” Jeremy poured another glass of orange juice. “I stood up for her yesterday when she needed it, and now she’s angry at me, like I did something wrong.”

  Talon reached into one of the cabinets, fumbling with a box of coffee pods. “Well, she’s right in a way. You did do something wrong.”

  “What?” Jeremy felt his stomach twist over.

  Talon turned around to look at him. “You don’t get it, I understand that, but yesterday wasn’t good—not for any of us.”

  “You saw how Ellison was yesterday. You heard how he talked to her. I’m not just going to stand there and watch that!” Jeremy could hear the anger in his own voice.

  Talon shrugged. “That’s how he is, but we still have to live with the guy. More than that, we have to take orders from him. We all just gotta find a way to make it work.”

  Talon turned back to the coffee machine. “You got frustrated yesterday, and so you said something. It felt good at the time, I’m sure, but whose life did you make better? Yours? Hers? Mine?” Talon shook his head. “No, you did the opposite, man. You’ll see. Like I said, it wasn’t good.”

  Jeremy stood up. Even if he knew what to say, he could tell the words would be a waste of time. Talon had resigned himself. Apparently Nyx had too. They were both willing to live with it Jeremy couldn’t.

  He turned and walked out of the kitchen.

  Talon called after him, “Don’t worry. It was just one day, right?”

  Jeremy kept walking. He stopped in front of the second door on the left, the door to Gauntlet’s room. He raised his hand, ready to knock, but before he could start, the steel door slid aside. Gauntlet filled the empty doorframe.

  Jeremy stood his ground, staring up at the armored face. “I don’t want to get trapped here.”

  Gauntlet lifted his chin, and his words rumbled from behind his mask: “Too late.”

  A wave of panic crashed over Jeremy. What was that supposed to mean? Too late for what?

  “Everyone at the table! Now!” Ellison’s voice thundered from behind him, and Jeremy turned to look. He was just in time to see Ellison step out of the elevator and march to the table, his fists clenched and his jaw set tight. Lara followed behind him. She was a picture of calm in contrast to Ellison’s storm, but somehow she was too perfect—too controlled. It looked like an act.

  Gauntlet had said before that a trap only worked if you don’t see the danger. Jeremy understood that now. Ellison was far more dangerous than he realized, and yesterday, Jeremy tipped his hand. Any advantage he could have hoped for with the major was gone now. Is that what Gauntlet meant by “too late”?

  Gauntlet stepped forward, brushing past Jeremy and advancing toward the table. Jeremy followed.

  Ellison was already in his chair, and he wasn’t waiting for anyone; he started just as Nyx stepped out of her room. “We have a full day, and we need to get started. This morning we’re going to run individual research training. The baseline numbers from yesterday were way off from what we expected, especially from G-Force.” Ellison looked directly at Jeremy now. “You need to figure things out and stop wasting everyone’s time. This isn’t some kind of daycare.”

  Jeremy looked away, staring up at the far corner of the room. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Regardless of yesterday, whether it was a mistake or not, there was
no reason to antagonize the major now. Still, Ellison was waiting for an answer.

  Jeremy grit his teeth and looked back. “Yes, sir.”

  Ellison seemed to take the answer as some small victory; he continued, “This afternoon, all organized training is canceled. There was an incident last night on base that resulted in the death of one of our men—a Sergeant Marcus Mandel. A memorial service is planned at 1300 hours if anyone wishes to attend. Otherwise, training rooms will be available for optional free exercise. I expect everyone to take advantage of that opportunity. Are there any questions?”

  Ellison didn’t wait for an answer. He was already standing up from the table and retreating for the elevator. Everyone else followed.

  A quick ride up the elevator, a walk down the hallway, and just like that, Jeremy stood in the same room as yesterday. Dr. Langer was already there, waiting for him. The whole thing felt routine.

  Langer greeted him with a wide smile. “All right, G, let’s start right in. Up on the docket for today is individual research training. Yesterday was baseline. On a baseline day, everyone goes back to square one and works their way up as far as they can go. IRT’s mean we start where you already are and try to push you even farther, but, since you’re starting at zero, there’s really nothing to build on—” Langer caught himself, “What I mean is you’re already starting at a level zero. You don’t have the skill to, uh… You know what, just forget about it.” Langer turned back to his screen and punched a few keys. “Let’s just—let’s calibrate the sensors. Go ahead and hit the bag one time. No gravity.”

  Jeremy stepped forward, turning his shoulders and raising both of his fists. He threw a weak punch into the black shield. Then he turned to look at Langer.

  Langer tapped the keys again on the computer without looking up. “Good. That’s perfect, G. I’m registering zero gravitational fluctuation, which is exactly what we wanted.”

  Jeremy could understand what Langer was trying to do. It was the scientist’s way of offering some words of encouragement, but the end result was something else. Langer might have been saying, “Good job,” but Jeremy heard something else: his own voice reminding him he was a first-class screw-up.