by Sarah Noffke
I turn back to Rogue, his features dark in these shadows. “Let’s just pop in there real quick,” I say.
“In and out,” he says, and just as I turn to fill the light with my presence he tugs me back. I freeze, afraid he’s stopping me from a danger I haven’t spied yet. He pulls my hand up to his shoulder and encourages it around. “Earlier when I had the headache. I had a premonition afterwards.”
I blink, trying to clear the dark between us so I can see him clearly. That’s right, after a headache he has several abilities at once briefly. Why didn’t he tell me about the premonition before now? “What?” I breathe. “What did you see?”
“I can’t tell you. I’m afraid if I do I’ll change everything,” he says.
“Then why are you telling me now?”
“Because I think there’s something you need to know,” Rogue says. I try to pull my hands away from his neck. He tenses and slaps a hand down on them, keeping me latched on to him. “I haven’t told you something about me. When you figure it out, I want you to use it to our advantage.”
“Rogue, what does that mean?” I say, pulling my hands off him and this time he allows it.
“Em, if I thought telling you the future would help I would, but I think this advantage comes only if you discover everything on your own.”
I shake my head at him. “You’re making me want to slap you right now.”
He pushes his face in close to mine. Challenges me with a defiant look. “Slap me, baby.”
I shake my head and turn. Pause for half a second and sprint into the bright overhead light.
The beeps the keypad sings after I press each number sounds too loud. I picture my father can hear it from our house a mile away. After the six-number code is entered the lock releases with a sharp click. The heavy side door shuts behind us with a gentle clunk. Ahead of us the long corridor is dark, lit by dim floorboard lights. There are more lab rooms than I realized. At least ten doors line this hallway. The meds could be in any of them and even then there are probably a dozen hallways just like this.
“I’ll search this room,” I mouth without a sound, pointing to the first one. “You take that one.” I indicate the one opposite. My hand is on the cold handle when at lightning speed Rogue’s arm blocks me and he turns me so I’m facing him. I’m frozen, staring up at his face which is arranged into an angry glare.
“No,” he hisses, a flare of fury in his word. Then I realize it’s not anger in his face but crazed worry.
“Rogue I’ll just be in the next room—”
He leans in so close that he’s whispering directly into my ear. “Em, I don’t care if this takes all night. You’re staying with me. That was the plan and we aren’t changing it.”
I pull to the side and stare back up at him. I want to shake my head, but as if he senses it he catches my chin and brings his mouth close to my ear again. “If anything happens, I want to be by your side.”
I nod against his face. “Fine,” I mouth.
Rogue turns at once and pushes into the first room, pulling me in behind him. I already knew it was unoccupied by peering through the window in the door, but I didn’t realize how unbelievably disorganized it is. It clouds my mind. Overwhelms the mission.
I’m just about to start searching cabinets when Rogue holds up a hand, stopping me. He shakes his head and points back at the door we just came through.
So not this room.
He leads me back out and down the hallway. When we arrive at the next door he pokes his head through and cranes it around. Then he backs out and shakes his head at me. Maybe he’s already searched these rooms. Or maybe he’s looking for something to match the premonition he saw. I wish he would have explained it to me. I don’t like the idea of fulfilling some destiny that I have to blindly walk into. What if I don’t make the right decisions? What if I don’t understand his cryptic words? What if I get us caught?
After he’s poked his head into every room on this hallway, he leads me up to the second floor through the stairwell. His every movement is quick, with a strange precision. Everything, from the way he reaches for a door handle, to the angle of his head as he searches the area around us, has a unique grace. I can’t pinpoint what it reminds me of, but it’s reminiscent of something.
When we reach the hallway on the second floor, Rogue’s back straightens. He’s sensed something. I’ve found that just by watching him, I understand my surroundings better than if I actually took them in properly with my own eyes.
As he has with all the other rooms he pokes his head through a doorway and scans. I half expect him to close the door and lead me down the hallway. Instead he strides into the room, pulling me in behind him. “Here we go,” he says, walking directly into the room, confidence in each step.
“They’re in here?” I ask. He shakes his head. “No, but they will be.”
“What does that mean?” He’s hardly even whispering anymore, so I quit as well.
“Trust me,” he says. And strangely any complaint stays tucked in my mouth. Those two words send away all my hesitation. Of course I trust him. I step into the room mimicking his confident steps. It looks similar to the other ones I’ve seen. Lab tables sit in the center, cluttered with various objects. Cabinets line the walls. On the far side of the room is another door leading to another identical room. Rogue leads us in that direction. I almost bump into him when he stops. His hand points to a bottom cabinet which faces the back wall. “Search that one. I’ll look up top,” he says.
I nod and kneel down, opening the cabinet to reveal a hundred or so medicine bottles. All at once my eyes take in every label and I know the right meds aren’t here. I’m about to move to the next cabinet when I’m distracted by Rogue, who’s standing just in front and beside me, not moving. He’s not searching. Not doing a thing. He stands frozen. Staring. A hostile anticipation in his eyes.
I shuffle my feet underneath me, about to stand, when the door we entered through pushes open, hardly making a sound. I duck down low, my ears prickling from the patter of the soft-soled shoes on the linoleum floor, the sound of fabric rustling against fabric as the person who enters the room moves. His breath is like a steady stream of quick breaths. And I’m quite certain he had summer squash and goat cheese for dinner. All this information floods into my mind as Rogue’s words fill the air.
“Hello, Father. I’ve been expecting you.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Hello, Rogue,” President Vider says, that familiar growl in his voice a little more gravelly.
Beside me Rogue’s heartbeat speeds up. He swallows a lump in his throat. I hear skin run against skin and look up to see him rubbing his thumb against his fingers. I spy the pores on the back of his hands, the knitting of his shirt, tiny specks of dust on the floor on the other side of him. My eyes are like telescopes, zooming in and out at will. Again I have hyper senses. President Vider’s gift.
“Don’t you want to give your dear father a hug?” President Vider says, amusement in his voice. “We’ve been parted for so long. How good it is to finally see my son.”
He moves a step and a half into the room. He rustles a hand into his pocket. “I’ve missed my boy. And here you are, all grown up. And how much you have grown, Rogue. You’re as strong as an ox.”
“Give them to me,” Rogue says, his voice flat, unaffected.
“Oh, no hugs?” President Vider says, taking another step forward, running his hands along the marble countertop. My eyes are trained on the dark corner in front of me; even so, I perceive all of this and know my senses are drawing an accurate picture for me.
“You know why I’m here. Give me what I want,” Rogue says.
“How about we talk about what I want. There are a few things. For starters, I want to know where you’ve been.” President Vider sniffs the air. “In the woods, no doubt, and obviously without real plumbing. Tell me, son, have you found your years outside the society to be pleasurable? Or have you missed the comforts you took for g
ranted?”
Rogue slams his palm down on the countertop. “Do you have the meds?”
“In fact, I do. I’m hiding them,” President Vider says in an almost playful tone.
“Give them to me before I kill you.”
President Vider laughs; it’s a deep booming sound. “I’ll show you what I’m hiding, if you show me what you’re hiding. Because in this room I count, one…two…three heartbeats.”
My eyes flick up, but Rogue’s back is still facing away from me. “Show me the meds first. Then I’ll show you who I’m hiding.”
“Oh, you were always so tiresome. So irritating with your negotiations.” Fabric bristles. An object moves against the fabric. A medicinal odor hits me, one full of chemicals which is reminiscent of the injections.
“This is what you were looking for, right?” President Vider says. He shakes the bottle I’m sure he’s holding between his fingertips, the capsules in it clanging around the plastic. “This is why you invade my valley with your filth?”
“Yes, and haven’t you wondered what my gift is, Father?” Rogue asks.
“No, I don’t wonder about you, but to hope you’re dying alone in a ditch. Imagine my disappointment at seeing you here now.”
I almost stand and charge the President, but somehow force myself to stay crouched as I know Rogue wants me.
“I imagine you’re in store for more disappointment, then,” Rogue says. “This will not be your night.”
And I hear the clang of the capsules as they clink against the plastic bottle followed by silence. A gasp from the President’s mouth. And then an object collides with Rogue’s hand.
“You really should have cared, Father, what my gift was. Otherwise you wouldn’t have showed an apportational the object they most desired,” Rogue says.
The President grinds his teeth. “Nice trick, boy. You can keep your meds. It’s a fantastic exchange for what you’re harboring on the other side of that cabinet.”
From the door closest to us, I hear movement. Thunderous footsteps. I want to reach out for Rogue, warn him somehow, but I know I shouldn’t break his concentration on his father.
“There will be no exchange,” Rogue says, drumming his fingers on the bottle.
A tired breath shoots out of President Vider’s nostrils. “Stand up, Em Fuller. I want to see you.”
Rogue’s eyes finally cast down on me. He gives the slightest nod and I push up at once and turn to face the President, trying to also keep my attention on the approaching presence. However, at the sight of President Vider my focus crumbles. The wicked grin on his face makes a shiver escape my lips. He’s wearing a black suit, his hair the same color and perfectly parted on the side and pushed back in a neat arrangement. The smile twitches on his face. He sniffs the air. “Oh yes, I heard your heartbeat, knew you were here, but I smelled you first.” Again he takes in another inhalation, like he’s smelling a rose. “Even with the camouflage my son so cleverly put on you I still smelled the sweet essence that is Em Fuller. It’s delicious.” He licks his top lip from one corner to the next. “Rogue, before I tell you about my big plans for Em, let me introduce you to Maurice.”
From the doorway behind us a teenager who’s almost seven feet tall steps in. He ducks his bald head under the doorway as he enters. He’s wearing a gray suit. “Maurice came to me shortly after you abandoned me, Rogue. And he’s been ever so useful for dealing with those who stepped out of line. I really wish he would have been here for you as a child, maybe then you wouldn’t have been so disobedient.”
“Father, what does this have to do with us?” Rogue says, eyeing Maurice, who blocks the doorway on one end of the room and then swinging his head around to President Vider, who blocks the other exit. “Just step aside and let us leave. We don’t want trouble.”
“Oh, but I believe you do. And you aren’t going anywhere with Em. That’s why Maurice is here. She belongs to me now and he’s going to ensure that she goes home with me.” President Vider turns and looks directly at me, his eyes reminding me of a ravenous wolf. “You see, I think before you become a poster child for the Defects, you should be tied to the post of my bed. How does that—”
Rogue rushes forward, so quickly his motions blur. But simultaneously Maurice lunges out and claps a single hand down on his shoulder. Rogue’s in the process of deflecting it when he drops in a series of convulsions, pain screaming in his voice. A single touch from Maurice and he appears to be frying from the inside.
“Rogue!” I say and rush forward, but Maurice throws out an outstretched hand. I halt inches from the splayed fingers, eyeing them and then Maurice’s threatening stare. He has Rogue pinned on the ground, his hand hovering a few inches from his neck, his other hand extended to me.
“You see, my dear sweet, Em,” President Vider says, taking a step in closer to me. “Maurice’s touch is lethal. It’s quite the unique gift. An embrace from him would stop the heart of his lover. Poor boy hasn’t been hugged since he hit puberty, but I’ve loved him the best I can, given him a job. I do care about my people. Aren’t I kind?”
I step away from Rogue and Maurice lowers his hand. Anger boiling my insides, I turn and face the President. “Your manipulation doesn’t work on me.”
“No, I see it doesn’t.” He steps forward, reaches out, and almost strokes a single finger down my dirty cheek, but stops himself, holds back. “And I do love a challenge. And more than that I love that you, my pet, are going to encourage an entire population of Defects to rush toward their fate.”
“Why would I do that? Even if you convert me, I won’t be happy about it. Promote it for your evil agenda,” I say, disbelieving the rebellious tone I’m daring to take against the President.
“Oh, my fine young lady, you seem to think I’d leave you with the memories you have now.” He shakes his head, his eyes trailing over me, making me want to step behind the counter again to shield myself from his prying gaze. “First you’ll be converted to Middling and then your memories will be receded using the modifier. You’ll believe what you’re told, as you should have from the beginning. I do love the opportunity to create model citizens. And I love that I’m giving you a chance at redemption.”
Down on the ground, Rogue lies, flinching from his recent pain. His eyes connect with mine and I want to drop to my knees and shield him from anything Maurice can do to him. But his eyes seem to be communicating a different message to me. “Let him up,” I say, my eyes firmly on President Vider.
“You’re not in a position to make demands,” the President says.
I turn and take in the scene at my back. Maurice hovers over the prone Rogue who is unable to negotiate a single inch without being touched by him. I’m too far from Maurice. Five feet. I take a few steps backward and President Vider holds up a hand. “Stay away from my son.”
“You lost the right to call him that,” I say and take another step backwards.
“Maurice,” President Vider says, and the giant pain-inducer places his fingertips to Rogue’s cheek, making him jerk wildly and scream out like he’s on fire suddenly.
“No,” I yell, but remain frozen.
“Isn’t that the way it always is,” President Vider says, “you hurt the ones you love by trying to help them. That’s my unfortunate plight. I tried to help my poor son, make him a usable member of this society, but he didn’t appreciate my efforts. But you, Em, it’s not too late for you. You’ll have the distinct honor of being the poster child for Defects. I gave you that honor. You will prove to them that they have a salvation. They will worship you. And I assure you that honor is better than anything my son has promised you.”
“Freedom! That’s better than my freedom?!” I yell.
“Em, don’t be goaded by him. Just ignore him,” Rogue says from the ground, his voice shaky.
President Vider gives a minute nod to his minion. Maurice pokes Rogue, sending him into a series of screaming howls.
“Stop!” I scream. “I’ll go with you. I’ll
do whatever it is you want.” My hands vibrate by my side. “Just let him up. Let me look at him and say goodbye.” And President Vider nods at Maurice, who motions to Rogue. And he shuffles to a standing position. I look at Rogue and open my mouth to say something, to apologize, but then I feel his thoughts in my mind. A thought I know is his. Gods above, Em, you’re beautifully impossible. I smile at him and round on the door just as my father enters.
Chapter Thirty-Six
My father strolls into the room, a coolness in his self-satisfied expression. He takes the place next to President Vider, unbuttons his pin-striped jacket, and slides his hand into his pocket, not even making eye contact with me. He removes a watch on a gold chain and then slips it back.
“As Lyza foretold, they’re right on time,” my father says to the President, looking at him with a prideful expression. My own mother. She’s the one who told them when we’d be here. She must have seen it with her clairvoyance. Damn bitch.
“Father?” I say, waiting for him to look at me with his crisp blue eyes. Finally he brings his gaze to mine, an indignant look on his face. He always seems too young, with his polished look and head full of blond hair. He ages, but not enough. Not enough to feel like he’s that much older than me. It’s wrong and I hate that about him. I hate how he makes everything feel wrong.
“Em, did you really think you were going to get away from being converted?” He looks at me with a sneer, his nostrils flaring. Oh gods, she stinks, I hear him think.
“And you’re wearing entirely too much cologne,” I say, pulling my chin down low to my chest. I sniff the air once. “Oh, and a bit of perfume too, but that’s not the kind mother wears.”
My father’s eyes widen with horror. “Why did you say that? Where did that come from?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I say.
How does she know I smell like a perfume? I changed my jacket, it should have been enough.