Revived (Revived, #1)

by Jodie Kobe

  Chapter fourteen

  V I V I A N

  Rob’s fingers continue to drum on the wheelchair’s arm as he watches me.

  I want to run; I just don’t know which way to go.

  “How did you get here?” I squeak out, backing away from him. I want as much distance between us as possible.

  The exit door is behind him so if I want to run for it, I can’t. He could jump out at me.

  Rob remains seated. “You’re not the only one with access to your room,” he says.

  My heart feels like it’s about to break out of my chest.

  “What do you want?” My voice trembles. “I didn’t do anything to you.”

  Rob shrugs and my eyes dart around the room, looking for a light switch. Maybe the cameras are watching.

  “You caused misery to someone else,” he says. “I don’t want to live in the same building as my father’s murderer.”

  “I didn’t kill anyone,” I say through gritted teeth. “You’re sick. I don’t understand why you’d think I’d do anything like that. I’ve only been here for four days. Why would I kill anyone?”

  Rob’s fingers stop drumming the wheelchair’s arm for a second. He chuckles, then his fingers continue dancing. “No, Vivian, no. You killed someone thirty years ago.”

  There is silence for a moment as I ponder over this.

  Then, “Thirty years ago?” I hiss angrily, pointing to myself. “You care that I killed someone thirty years ago?”

  Rob looks like he’s about to jump out of the wheelchair.

  I instantly fear for my life.

  “My father.” His voices raises. “You murdered my father.”

  I want to throw a pillow at Rob’s face but I know it won’t do much damage. It’ll just anger him even more.

  “For the last time,” I say, emphasizing each word, “I did not kill anyone.”

  His anger suddenly vanishes and a sinister smile replaces it. “Have you wondered why you’ve forgotten everything about your past?”

  I keep my mouth shut. Rob continues. “You don’t know who you used to be. You don’t remember how you died. You don’t remember your childhood. You don’t remember your friends. You don’t—”

  “I get it,” I cut in harshly.

  “Maybe because they don’t want you to know who you were. Maybe they want you to—”

  “Let go of the past and start over,” I finish for him, quoting Mr. Welds.

  “Precisely.”

  I know it’s not a very good idea to ask him this. He might not answer, but I say it anyway. “Then who was I?”

  Rob pulls a thin object out of his sleeve and I catch a glimpse of a glimmer of a blade. My heart stops.

  A knife. He’s brought a knife.

  Casually, he starts flipping it over in his hands. “It’s tempting to tell you, Vivian, it really is. But...I can’t. I was told to keep it quiet. That if—”

  “Y-you have no proof.” My voice quivers and I hate it.

  In the dark, I see a look of surprise cross Rob’s expression. “Proof of what?” he asks.

  I swallow. “That I—that I killed your father. That’s not possible.”

  My head is shaking from side to side and I can't stop it. It matches the quick beating of my heart.

  I skim the dark room, looking for something to use against Rob.

  Weapon, weapon, weapon.

  My shoes are by the door, behind Rob. I can’t reach those. There are no lamps, but there is a nightstand. I doubt I have the strength to throw it at Rob, though. There’s the cube-shaped phone. I could use that…

  My hand reaches for it and Rob hops to his feet. “And what exactly are you doing?” he asks.

  I suck in a breath and my hand freezes, hovering over the object. “What are you doing?” I ask him.

  Rob shrugs. “Standing.”

  “And so am I.”

  “I’m not too comfortable with you reaching for that phone over there.” He uses the knife to gesture to the phone my hand is hovering over.

  “I’m not too comfortable with you holding that knife,” I snap back at him, gesturing to the knife in his hand.

  He shrugs and says in a demanding voice, “Back away from the phone.”

  I disobey.

  I snatch the phone from the nightstand and fling it at Rob. He's expecting it so he leans out of the way as soon as I throw it. The cube misses him and crashes into the wall behind him, leaving a dent.

  Dang it.

  He has a knife. Why not just throw it at me? What’s he waiting for?

  He takes a small step toward me and I take a small step back. There’s no more room for me to back up so I run into the nightstand. He doesn’t move again.

  And I wasted my only weapon.

  “W-what do you want?” I ask, sidling closer to the kitchen.

  I could grab a knife from there. I could run at him. I could poke his eyes out. I could—

  “To avenge my father’s death,” he says. Those words nearly bring my beating heart to a complete stop as I'm reminded why he's here in the first place.

  “I...I didn’t kill him.” I’m trembling so hard I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself up any longer. I never killed anyone.

  He takes another step forward and all I’m doing is focusing on the knife grasped in his hand.

  “Evidence says otherwise,” he says.

  “What evidence?” I inch to the side again.

  Rob sees me but he doesn’t try to stop me. He raises his eyebrows instead and counts off on his fingers as he says, “Documents, possible witnesses, cameras, audi—”

  Hold on. “Cameras?”

  “Yes. So once you see it with your own eyes, you’re bound to believe it,” Rob says.

  I shake my head. They’d kept thirty-year-old footage of a murder? I'm crazy to be believing the words of this maniac. I didn't actually kill anyone. I know I didn't.

  “But don’t worry,” Rob continues. “After you assassinated my father, they got rid of you. But I want you out of this world forever.”

  Assassinated. That’s the only word that stays in my head after Rob finishes his sentence.

  “So,” Rob lets out a breath, sounding as if he’s concluding a speech. “I have the power to take your life away.”

  “You have no authority.” I attempt to spit at his face but it doesn’t go far. He just laughs and takes another step toward me.

  “I do.” A pause. “I created your heart.”

  Whether it’s true or not, I suddenly feel like I’m suffocating...because I have a heart that was formed with Rob’s hands.

  No, he's lying. He's lied to me before, and he's lying now. How could he have created my heart? What is that supposed to even mean?

  “Surprised?” Rob asks. “You could think of yourself as special, but only because you are one of the seven people who had their heart made for them. And I’ll give you a hint. Your tattoo is involved.” He points to my hand.

  I take a quick glance at the tattoo on my right hand. Such an intricate design. But how is it involved?

  It suddenly comes to me. I’ve only seen seven people with these tattoos. Rob just said seven people had man-made hearts. So these do mark us in some way. We had hearts made for us. How—?

  “You’re experiments.” He lifts his knife into the air and takes another step forward. I move to the side again until I’m only a foot away from the kitchen.

  There are no knives in sight. There's no time to do anything else.

  I look at him, then back to the kitchen.

  Rob peeks into the kitchen too and clicks his tongue.

  If he’s going to kill me, why not do it now?

  He decides to stroll into the kitchen. To turn his back on me.

  A mistake.

  I’m instantly on him, wrapping my hands around his neck. He nearly drops the knife he’s holding in surprise.

  I cling to his back and squeeze his neck harder as he thrashes around, trying to pry me off of hi
m. I slam a fist into the side of his head but he still remains standing.

  “Let go of me!” he screams, running backward into the wall.

  “You leave me alone!” I shriek into his ear.

  He slams me into the wall so I’m forced to let go. As soon as I do, he takes a wheezing breath.

  He starts swinging the knife at me and instantly, my life flashes before my eyes.

  This is it.

  I roll toward him with my eyes shut. In a second, I’ve collided with his legs and he falls to the floor. I’m up on my feet and my fist manages to meet his face three times before he kicks me off of him.

  I stumble back and run for it. There’s no blood. I got lucky.

  I have no scratches on me.

  Rob is still struggling behind me but I have enough adrenaline in my veins to sprint out the door and into the hallway. It's dark in here, but I don't stop.

  My destination is Rian's room.

  I glance back once to see if Rob is behind me.

  He is not.

  I’m out of breath by the time I reach Rian’s door. Rob still has not showed himself, and I don't know what's he's doing.

  I pound on Rian’s door and wait, counting to fifteen.

  It doesn’t open, and I pound on it again.

  Another fifteen seconds later, Rian stands in the open doorway, rubbing his eyes. His typical spiked-up hair is all over the place.

  “Waz goin’ on?” he mumbles, running a hand over his face.

  My eyes scan the corridor one last time before I squeeze past Rian and step into his room without asking for permission first.

  His room is dark too and I strain my eyes to see where I’m going.

  “Vivian, what’s going on? Why are you here?”

  He flicks the light on, completely awake now. The room instantly turns bright and I’m blinded for a second. The door slides closed, but I know I’m not safe yet. If Rob has access to my room, he would surely have access to Rian’s.

  “It’s—it’s Rob,” I breathe. “He tried to attack me. He’s in my room, Rian.”

  “In your—? Hang on.” Rian pauses and narrows his eyes. “You’re telling me he barged into your room and—”

  “I woke up in the middle of the night and he was there.” I pause to catch a breath, then keep going, not able to stop. “He started saying all of these things about creating hearts and the tattoos and how he made the heart I have inside of me and how seven of us have—”

  Rian puts a hand up, indicating for me to stop talking.

  I disregard it. “—those tattoos and he said I killed his father when I don’t even remember—”

  “Vivian,” I hear his voice say.

  But I’m too focused on finishing what I have to say to listen to him. “—killing him and he said there were cameras and—”

  My heart rate increases as I think of Rob bashing Rian’s door down. I take a step back to increase the distance between me and the door just as soon as Rian takes a step toward me.

  “Vivian,” he says again. “Stop for a second.”

  I’m not able to stop. I’ve gotten this far so I might as well finish it. “—they recorded me assassinating his father and it’s like I got paid for it and—”

  Rian closes the distance between us and grabs my wrists. “Stop,” he says firmly.

  I finally shut my mouth and he lets go, taking a few steps back to let me have my own space.

  “Sorry,” I whisper.

  “What happened to Rob?” he asks.

  I take a breath and let my words out slowly. “I left him in my room and ran.”

  Rian nods. “You said he attacked you and he had a knife.”

  Rob's going to hurt me sooner or later. He has a knife with him. I doubt he wants to use it to cook dinner. “I attacked him first,” I admit, grabbing my hair.

  Rian waves my honest reply away and says, “He's not supposed to be in your room in the first place. And with a knife.”

  The people who let Rob do this are crazy. Or maybe he planned it all himself? Does Janelle know that Rob wants to kill me? Does Jack Welds know? Does the other Welds know?

  I point to the door, feeling like a child who's afraid of the monsters under her bed.

  “Someone should lock him up,” my voice squeaks.

  Rian lets out a laugh and I don’t understand why he thinks this is funny. “Out of all people, you came to me as if I could solve anything.”

  “You were the closest one. I don’t exactly know where Piers’ room is. Besides...I’m hiding.”

  Rian frowns and sits down on the floor. I sit down on his bed.

  “Sorry if I woke you,” I say quietly.

  Silence. Then, “What did you mean by Rob creating your heart? I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

  I shrug and hold up my tattooed hand. “I don’t understand it either. Everyone marked with this has them. Rob said that.”

  “And you believe him?” Rian looks down at his own hand, then places two fingers on his wrist as if he is feeling his pulse.

  I nod and clasp my hands together.

  There’s a light knock on the door and Rian's head shoots up in the direction of the sound. I only stare at the ground.

  Rian stands up.

  Thoughts start running through my head. It’s Rob. How does he know I'm here? Is he using the glasses? It's not a good idea to open the door, but how long until he opens it himself?

  “Don’t open that,” I hiss under my breath.

  “I don’t want to,” Rian whispers back. He switches the light off and backs away until he’s by my side.

  The faint knocking continues. It’s so quiet it almost scares me.

  Then a familiar voice yells from the other side, “Open the damn door!”

  It’s Rob.