by Miria Masdan
This is an impossible task. Mandy is as good as dead, and it is my fault. Why would they think that I could be able to do this? Atticus Benson is an important politician. A small army guards him, and his house is a fortress.
I curl up on the bed. I think about Quinn; it seems it’s all I do lately. I hear someone talking outside my balcony. I walk over and listen. It’s Adam. I hear him talking to a woman.
“I took care of Emma,” he says.
“Good,” she says. “Meet me at the cottage after everyone goes to bed.”
What are they talking about? I get down on my hands and knees and crawl out onto the balcony. I peer over. I can see her; she’s dressed in a uniform similar to the guard. She must be one of the laborers.
“I can’t wait that long,” he says. “I need to be with you.”
My heart is beating against my chest.
“Adam,” her voice is sweet.
“I won’t take no for an answer, I see the hesitation in your eyes,” he says. “Emma pulls away from me every time I come near her. I need to know you will be there for me.”
“I’ll always be there for you,” she says.
“But?”
“You’ll be married soon,” she says. “It’ll all change.”
“Nothing will change,” he says. “I don’t love her; it’s a partnership…nothing more.”
I crawl back into my room. I go into the bathroom and wash my face. I look at myself in the mirror. How did I become this person? Just a week ago I was feeling guilty because I was so excited to leave Agricultural, and now I miss home so much, I ache.
I had so much to look forward to; my life was just beginning, and now I can’t imagine myself lasting much longer.
My room is cold. I left the balcony doors open, and I just look at them; there’s a stiff breeze and the evening has turned into night. My face is wet, and the pillow beneath my head is soaked. My body shivers and my skin is covered in goose bumps. I hear footsteps on the patio below. I get up and look; it’s Adam. He’s heading to meet the women.
I look up at the stars. The sky is dark, and the stars are brilliant against its depths. I wish I could leap off the balcony and dance between their light.
I laugh; I must be losing my mind.
I hear more footsteps. I look down. I see her. She looks over her shoulder, back towards the house. I see her face.
“Hannah?”
I have a strange feeling that I have met her before; her name just rolled off my tongue. I think of the two women at the Galleria earlier. I knew their names too.
A sharp pain shoots behind my eyes. I drop to my knees. I can see Adam in my mind. I’m kissing him. I don’t remember this, and then I hear his voice, “Hannah…”
Did He call me Hannah? The vision changes; I’m looking out a window, and then I turn. I see a reflection, but it is not me…it is her.
I make my way back into the bedroom. This time I close the doors behind me. I pull the covers back and crawl into bed. I pull them tight over my head, and I concentrate on Quinn. I say his name over and over again in my mind. I can’t shake the image of Hannah. I cry.
And then a terrible thought occurs to me; what if my memories of Quinn are not actual mine? What if they are like the images of Hannah and the two women from the Galleria? What if I’m experiencing someone else’s memories of him? No, Maggie remembers me and him together. We knew each other. I’m confused, and almost certain that I am going crazy.
I squeeze my eyes closed and pull my knees to my chest. I try and make my body as small as possible. All I want to do is disappear.
I think about Mandy. I wonder if they have her or if they are waiting to for me to fail. I imagine her face; will she be afraid, or will she not know what happened and just fall? Will she know that it was my fault? Will she forgive me?
I can’t forgive myself. I won’t. I think about Grace, will she be next or Pam. What if they know about Quinn? He will fight for his life. Maybe he will be able to stop them and then I can go on. But will I ever be able to live again? I don’t think so. If all the people I love are gone, will I be able to go on, without them?
I won’t. I will find a way. I know I will find a way to join them; to leave this place.
I sit up and look around the room. I could end it all now. I get out of bed and walk to the balcony. I open the doors. The handles are cold in my hands. I walk to the rail and look down. It is only one story but the patio is stone and if I landed right; I would break my neck.
I look towards the cottage. I don’t see any lights. I imagine Adam and Hannah’s bodies entwined.
What would Quinn think? Would he miss me? He turned from me; he walked away. He doesn’t love me. Why would he? We just meet, and I’m a mess. I have no one, not even Adam. I am all alone.
But then I think of Pam, my brothers, and my parents. I think of home, the farm, and my orchard. I think of my tree by the meadow. It’s the one place that I feel safe and at peace with myself. To me, my orchard is my home.
I step away from the rail. I want to go home. I want my life back. I want to regain my innocence. I close the doors and get back to bed. I fall asleep and dream, not of Quinn but my trees.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Emma
The morning sun is brutal. It hits my face, and I cover my eyes with the blanket. My face is dry. I have no more tears. I sit up and head to the bathroom.
I turn the shower on hot and allow it to run over my body. It hurts, but I don’t turn it down. I step out onto the rug. I let the water fall off of me. I stand in front of the mirror. I see my face. I go through the motion.
I walk into the other room.
Adam is sitting on my bed.
“Why is your skin so red?”
“I took a hot shower,” I say. I don’t look at him. All I can see is him and Hannah together. I will never be able to look at him, without seeing her. I hear his words; he doesn’t love me, he never will.
I’m naked. I feel him looking at me. I wonder if I compare to her, I sigh and smile.
“The guest will be arriving for brunch,” he says. “You’ve been…odd, lately. Try and keep it together. There are going to be some important families here today. We need them.”
“Odd,” I think to myself, “that doesn’t even come close to what I’ve been.”
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes,” I smile and lie. “It’s been difficult to adjust and with my ankle and the pain. I’m sorry, I’ll do my best.”
He returns the smile, gives me a kiss on the check and walks downstairs.
The rest of the morning is filled with polite conversations and false smiles. I’m quiet during the ride back to my apartment. We enter the city center; my place overlooks the town square and the park. It is a lovely location; everything is within walking distance, and it’s filled with activities and entertainment. If my life wasn’t such a disaster and my future not so dismal; I’d enjoy living here.
Adam walks me to my door and kisses my hand. I feel nothing. Today, despite my inability to dull my emotions, I feel numb.
I change out of my dress; I throw on a pair of jeans and a plain gray tee-shirt. I grab my bag and my overcoat. The shuttle to the Galleria is empty; most people are enjoying the sunshine and the activities in the park.
I find my bench and wait for the man to return.
I’m looking around, an occasional shopper scampers past and a bubbly laugh from a store someplace to my left breaks the quiet. I look towards it, but I don’t see whoever laughed. I’m scanning back to the rail when my eyes stop upon a man standing at a vendor selling coffee.
He looks my way. I see his face, and I recognize him, his name is David, and he has no number, no component, and no occupation. He is an Under.
The sharp pain I felt the night before returns. I grab my head and close my eyes as tight as I can. I keep repeating in my head, “I don’t know him, I don’t know him, I don’t know him.”
I can’t see any images. The pai
n is too intense. I bend over, resting my head in my hands, squeezing as hard as I can bear.
“Emma?”
I hear him; the man. I feel him touch my back.
“Emma!”
The pain stops, so abruptly that it feels like it tears a piece of my mind along with it.
“Are you okay?”
I look at him. I recognize him from yesterday, but I don’t know him, I can’t envision his name. Why do I keep having these flashes? What is wrong with me? I am broken.
“Emma?”
“I’m fine, I just need a second,” I say.
“Did you get the information?”
The question, I’ve been dreading since I realized I was locked in my room last night. I don’t say a word. He can see it in my eyes, on my face.
“You were right in the house,” he says. “How did you not get it?”
He looks over my shoulder and shakes his head. I whip my head around. I see the man, David, walk away.
“Please don’t hurt her,” I beg. “She has nothing to do with this.”
“I warned you,” he says.
“I couldn’t do it, I tried.” My voice is quivering, and I can feel the panic rise. “They locked me in my room.”
“What?” he looks at me.
“I don’t know who you think I am, or what influences I have on him…but you’re wrong,” I say. “I don’t mean anything to him. I’m just the perfect wife on paper: my scores, my family…nothing more.”
“I won’t be able to get any information from them…ever!”
He walks away.
I sit there for a moment and try to understand what is happening. I think about Mandy. I get up and look around. He is gone. I take off after him. I run down the hall and stairs. I see him enter the shuttle. It’s getting ready to leave. I push harder. I make it just in time.
I sit and rub my ankle. It’s throbbing. I can feel it start to swell. I stand up and look into the car ahead of me. I see him sitting. He’s looking out the window; he hasn’t noticed me.
I ride the shuttle until he gets off at a station in the Technology sector. I follow him for about a half an hour, but my ankle is excruciating. I watch him disappear but before he’s out of my sight, he looks over his shoulder and smiles at me.
He knew I was following him. Which means he just led me on a wild goose chase; now, I’m alone and not sure if I’ll be able to hobble back to the station all by myself. I turn around and take my first step back. The pain shoots up my left and into my hip. I cry out. I take a few more steps and fall to my knees.
I look around, and the street is empty. I push myself up and grab the wall of the building next to me. I slowly make my way back.
I stop at an intersection. There is nothing to hang onto, and I know I won’t be able to go across it quick enough to avoid traffic. The pain is making my head dizzy and my stomach upset. I try and take another step, but I wobble. I feel myself start to fall, but someone grabs me from behind.
I twist myself around and see a familiar face. It is Chris, one of the men who helped us out of the Under, just a week ago.
“Why are you here?” he asks.
“It’s a long story and I don’t care to tell it,” I say. “Can you help me across the street?”
“Yeah, you should be taking it easy on that ankle.” He says. “I don’t want to have to fling you over my shoulder again.”
“Ha, funny,” I say. “I just need to get home and rest it.”
“I’ll take you,” he says.
We ride the shuttle back to my station. I’m looking out of the window towards the buildings, but Chris is looking out the window that faces the park.
“What is going on?” he gets up and looks out the window behind me.
I turn and see what he is talking about. There are several police shuttles in the square. My heart sinks; I know exactly what’s going on…they killed Mandy.
Chris walks me to my apartment and helps me get settled. He looks nervous, and he doesn’t say much. He makes an excuse to leave, and when I’m sure he is gone, I hobble over to the window. The police shuttles are still down there, but they’ve been joined with a Medical vehicle too.
I close the curtains and slide down the wall by the window. I did this; I failed her, and I will fail all the rest of them. My head is spinning, and I can feel my stomach heave. I reach for the waste basket by my desk and vomit.
I fall asleep on the floor.
I hear pounding on the door. I sit up, hitting my head on the desk. I look around, unsure of where I am. The room is dark, and I’m cold.
Again pounding on the door; I get up and a half jump, half walk across the room. I turn the light on in the foyer. I look at myself in the mirror above the hall table; I’m a mess.
Pounding but this time it is harder and more urgent.
I unlock the door and open it slowly. It’s Grace. She’s been crying. She doesn’t wait for me to open the door; she just pushes past me and lets herself in.
I don’t say anything because I know I won’t be able to convince her that I didn’t have anything to do with Mandy’s murder. I don’t think I will be able to convince anyone. I close the door and walk into the living room.
She’s crying. She looks up at me. “Mandy is dead.”
I know; I killed her is all I can think. I don’t say anything.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes,” I say. It is all I can manage. I feel like falling apart. I take a deep breath and sit next to her.
“Someone killed her,” she says. “They stabbed her and left her to bleed to death in the park.”
“She suffered?” I say. I regret saying it because it was not appropriate. It seemed obvious and uncaring. I’m not very good at this.
“Max said she tried to crawl for help,” she was sobbing. “She was alive when she was found, but she died before they could save her.”
She was alive; my heart is racing. What if she knew? What if she told them it was me? I have the sudden urge to leave, to go as far away as possible. I’ve already lost everything. Maybe if I leave, none of the rest of them will be harmed. I can go to the Under and live with Maggie and Ben. They were nice, and I’m pretty sure I can find my way back to their house. But the people who killed Mandy are from the Under. The only other choice is the wastelands. I don’t know what’s out there, but I’ve heard the stories. I’m terrified of the wastelands.
I could end it. I could go home and fall asleep under my apple tree and close my eyes forever. I could. It would work. They wouldn’t be able to harm any of them if I were no longer around to care. I look at Grace. She is a mess.
“Max?” I say. “You still talk to him?”
“What?” she looks at me, confused. “I do. We’re friends.”
“I see,” I say.
“Why would someone kill her?” she asks. “She was a good citizen.”
“I don’t think I ever remember a murder happening in our territory,” I say.
“Max said there hasn’t been a murder since the beginning of the Federation,” she says. “It’s why we are linked with the system and why our emotions are dulled.”
“It’s supposed to keep us safe,” I say.
“There have been breaches,” she says. “Max doesn’t want me going any place alone. Crimes have been happening all over the city.”
“A laborer at the Galleria told me someone broke into one of the stores and stole things,” I say.
“Max thinks the rebellion is behind all the crime,” she wipes her face. “He thinks the Mandy was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“They’ll do their best to find out what happened,” I say. “Max is probably correct. You shouldn’t be out on your own, especially this late at night.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I just needed to talk.”
“I would feel better if you called him,” I say, “maybe have him come and get you.”
“I will,” she says. “How are you?”
; “I’m in shock,” I say. “I can’t believe something like this happened.”
“No, I mean,” she says, “how are you?”
I look at her confused.
“Quinn?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” I lie, again. I seem to be getting good at it. Now I need to work on hiding my emotions.
“Good, I was worried.” She says. “I kind of got the feeling that you were going to be upset for awhile.”
“I have Adam,” I say. “He’s keeping me busy.”
“You’re so lucky.” She says. “He’s so amazing and so loving.”
If she only knew, the Hell I’m going through. I would trade my “amazing” life for her dull romance with the over protective Defense officer, any day.
We chat for just over an hour and then she calls Max to come and get her. He insists that he meets her at my door; so we wait. It takes him a half an hour to arrive.
I answer the door when he knocks. He looks at me. I think I see a hint of sympathy, mixed with a touch of pity. I guess everyone is worried about my well being after Quinn walked away.
“How are you doing?” He asks.
“I feel numb,” I say. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”
“No…” he starts.
“I know, what you meant,” I say. “I’m good. It was too much emotion, too much drink, and awful judgment.”
“Good,” he says. “Quinn’s good too.”
“Wonderful,” I choke on my words. I want him to feel terrible, just as bad as I feel.
Grace meets us at the door. Max smiles at her and her at him. They don’t touch, but I can tell from their movements that touch is not something they are unfamiliar with.
They say goodbye and they leave. I’m alone again. I sit at my desk and write a letter to Quinn. I explain to him why I’m going to kill myself. I confess. I tell him that I would rather die than have anyone else die because of me. But lastly I tell him that I love him and that I know there is more to us than that one day. I say goodbye to him and all the others.