The Wanted (The Woodlands Series Book 4)

by Lauren Nicolle Taylor

  I shrugged. He wasn’t going to change my mind. Even if I had managed to save her, the ghosts of the men I killed and… Este… I gulped, feeling nauseous; they had a hold on me. I couldn’t forgive myself for that.

  I stopped moving. Frozen like their blood-spattered faces.

  “Joe?” Desh shook my arm.

  The image melted away as the glint of metal blinked at us from the top of the compound ahead. The walls of Birchton were before us, built out of huge bricks rather than one large concrete piece, as the rings lay over several levels, perched on the side of a mountain.

  Matt halted us with an outstretched arm. “This is where we stop,” he said, jerking his head towards a cave opening. He motioned to the two guys going into Birchton. “You two go on.” They tipped their heads silently. “You know what you need to do.”

  Desh handed them their projectors and the small explosive device for the wall. They patted their packs and waved. We wished them luck and filed into the cave to await their return.

  It was late afternoon when they left. It would only be a few hours and we would know if it had worked.

  We took turns sleeping.

  The cold never bothered me. But the others were shivering and huddling together. Rash especially.

  The cave was quite deep, but we stayed near the entrance, ready to watch the show. The snow piled up in front of us and every now and then, the watch would kick over the pile so we weren’t trapped inside. I liked the noise snow falling on snow made, like pouring sand.

  I took off my jacket and leaned forward, wiggling it in front of Rash’s glaring eyes. “Here, take this. You’re shivering.”

  “Piss off,” he snapped. I let the jacket hang there for a few more seconds and finally, he sighed and snatched it from my hands.

  I smiled, which only made him angrier. He pulled the jacket up to his chin and turned away from me, swearing under his breath.

  I tucked my back into the cold rock behind me, crossed my arms over my chest, and let my eyes fall. Faster than I expected, my mind crept towards sleep.

  I’m buried, and I can’t breathe. Weight is pressing down on me, warm, wet weight. I struggle to find a gap, pushing my hands up against obstacles. I suck in a shocked breath when my fingers get tangled in human hair.

  The need to break free is overwhelming, though, and I keep pushing, digging my way out. It’s dark, and I’m glad it is. Something warns me that I don’t want to see what I’m buried under. When my arm pushes out and then my head, I immediately shut my eyes. I stumble over soft, uneven ground. My arm shielding my eyes from the view. My clothes sweat soaked.

  “Wake up,” she says over and over again in that soft, husky voice of hers. “Joseph. Wake up.”

  I woke, struggling for breath. Would this ever end? Was I always going to hear her voice, see her face, even in sleep? Could I live with what I’d done? The questions were unanswerable, hanging in the air like half-deflated balloons. I hated that I had no answers. I needed to solve this one and I couldn’t. Breathing slower, I focused on my in breath and out breath. I just wanted it to stop for a while. Even it was only for a few minutes. As I breathed, my ribs felt soft, as if the weight of my guilt might actually destroy me.

  I let out a sigh of resignation. I would not sleep again tonight. I sat up and felt around in the darkness for my sleeping bag zipper. Light snores drizzled down the walls, the dark shadow of the watch the only movement. Their peaceful noises made me crave empty, fresh air. The watch’s shadow straightened at the entrance as he glanced at his handheld and checked the time. He stood up suddenly and motioned to me. “Wake the others. It’s starting.”

  JOSEPH

  She always said we were guests. Intruders. I believed her, but I didn’t really consider it. This world was not ours. It hadn’t been for a very long time.

  Sleeping bags rustled. People yawned. We were all frozen to our positions from cold but when the watch said, “It’s starting,” everyone jumped up and crammed their way into the cave entrance.

  A weak, shooting sound echoed across the rocky valley. A single firework shot into the sky, exploded, and fronds of silvery light cascaded down, fizzling before they hit the ground. The first Signing Day firework for the year was as pathetic as I remembered. One every week in each town, for the next eight weeks, culminating in one last blood-red firework on the ninth Sunday in every town. It was unimpressive, but it was our signal.

  Desh pushed his way to the front of the group, gripping his handheld tightly. He swiped the screen, typed in a code, and an enormous rectangular screen of light appeared in the sky over the town.

  We all stared down at the movie hovering over the town, holding our breaths and wondering if the citizens of Birchton were looking up. Would this be a night marking the beginning of change or would they shy away from the images and return to their homes? Matt put his hand on my shoulder, and I stepped forward until he could no longer reach me.

  The video started at the Classes. A student stepped out of line; a Guardian with a face as blank as an empty notebook strode forward and touched a stunner to her neck. She jolted once and collapsed in a heap at the Guardian’s feet. He stepped over her, indifferent, and then the camera panned to the frightened faces of the other students. No one moved to help her. I remembered being that kid, wanting to intervene but completely unable to. I remembered the look on Rosa’s face when it happened, the way she moved out of her chair but just managed to stop herself. I thought of all the time I’d lost when I walked away from her. I was an idiot.

  The video moved on to the breeding facility. Quick clips of girls screaming, fighting against restraints. A baby was born and taken from the young mother. She barely noticed as it screamed, her eyes glazed over, her limbs floppy and weak.

  Finally, the video pulled back to show at least a hundred pregnant girls walking in line. I stepped forward out of the cave, my feet sinking in the snow, halfway up my calves. Cold air hit my face, but I couldn’t really feel anything. A pungent smell wafted towards me from the trees beside the cave, but I ignored it. I was chasing a ghost. She was there, up in the sky, her head dipped, staring at her feet as she shuffled through the queues of pregnant girls, her stomach, small, round, and perfect. I took another step, begging for her face—I needed to see her face. The somewhat transparent image wavered under the moon; the stars sat in her hair and across her bowed head like a crown. She was beautiful. As always.

  I put my hand to the air, imagining touching her, feeling her soft skin beneath my fingertips, and I thought I might cry. Where are you now?

  I had strayed several meters from the cave entrance. The others hadn’t noticed my exit. Their faces were on the images too. Watching. Waiting. Listening for a roar, a cheer, something.

  The only sound heard was of snow being compacted underfoot, which momentarily distracted me from the image. I glanced down for a second, but I didn’t want to lose her yet. Beneath me, three figures frantically climbed upwards towards our cave. My eyes returned to the sky and her face was still downcast, her dark hair clumped together and knotted, her hands twisted together in an almost-prayer. Then a woman wearing a white coat blew a whistle and Rosa’s head darted to the camera. I grabbed that picture and held on to it. Rosa’s incredible eyes blinked back at me as big as houses. I gasped and took another step forward, my legs sinking deeper. Losing my balance, I fell forward onto my chest, cold ice spraying into my face.

  The three people were closer now, clambering over the rocks towards me. It was Bataar, Willer, and the Spider.

  From my position lying in the snow, I looked up and Rosa’s face disappeared. My hands fisted and wrapped around the ice. Was I always going to lose her? Over and over again.

  I couldn’t hear the words from here, but I knew them. I helped write them. After the video playback, Pelo’s voice would say, “The Superiors have been lying to you. They have poisoned your water to make you sterile. They are taking what little control you had away from you. You are not safe. Your sons
and daughters are not safe. This breeding program is only the beginning. It’s time to stop them. Fight. For your families. For the grandchildren you never got to meet. Tell them NO. We are the Survivors—we were not chosen, but we choose to live. There is a life for you on the other side of the wall. We wait for you to join us.”

  The light flickered and dissolved into the air. I stayed in the snow, my chin resting in the ice. I wanted to bury myself until my whole body was numb, but I had to get up, keep moving, and find my way back to Orry, no matter what kind of father I would be when I got there. I pushed up, about to jump out of the snow, when I noticed the three people were no longer running. They crept towards the cave just below me like they were afraid to approach it. I narrowed my eyes. What was going on? It was hard to focus, my brain still clinging to the image of Rosa floating in the sky.

  They all stopped near the outcrop just below me. A girl’s voice hissed in my direction, “Don’t move!”

  I froze, not understanding why but understanding the urgency in her voice.

  Then everything happened at once.

  Colliding. Smashing. Loud and confusing.

  An explosion shook the ground. Debris spewed from the side of the outer wall of Birchton. I instinctively threw my head to the ground quickly and covered it with my arms. Everyone from the cave and in front of me shouted, “No!” Which confused me further.

  Guttural, grunting sounds. Closer and closer. The snow crunched under something enormous. Legs as thick as tree trunks. I turned back to the cave from where I lay. Everyone stood outside, waving their arms and yelling. Rash’s voice pierced through the other noises.

  “Run! You idiot! Run!”

  The screams of my friends faded into the background as my ears tuned to deep, loud breaths that seemed to echo inside a barrel. I scrambled, my legs grazing the rock underneath the snow and slipping back down. I couldn’t get a hold. I pushed up with all my strength to standing and then fell to the ground on my back.

  That was when I saw it from my upside-down position, hurling towards me, white as snow. Thick, wiry, white hair glistened under crisscrossed torchlight as it charged at me with gigantic paws that seemed to run over the snow and not sink into it. It was bigger than a bear, the shape of its head more dog like but with smaller ears. Its black lips pulled back to reveal massive white teeth—threatening, angry teeth. I couldn’t move, for fear, for fascination, for lack of will.

  “Get up!” Desh screamed.

  It slowed as its head swung towards the people screaming at the cave entrance. But their shouts only enraged it further, and its eyes trained on me as it set into a calculated stalk. It was close, steam pulsing from its wet, black nose, its dark eyes wide. Fur bristled along its back, thick as straws. Its mouth opened in a threatening growl, showing gums pulled back in aggression and teeth ready to tear me apart.

  Fear took over and whatever had stalled me released its grip. I tried to get up, to run, to escape this enormous animal. But I was out of time. It was over the top of me, and I could do nothing but stare as it reared back slightly, standing on its hind legs. Its body stretched to the sky, almost ten feet tall, its control almost human—its face nothing of the sort. I closed my eyes as its paws rammed my chest and its full weight came down on me. A rib cracked and my breath was thumped from my lungs. My arms flew up to cover my face. It snapped at me, but my feet planted in its chest, pushing against its heft. I barely held it back and its teeth dragged across my wrists and forearms without really digging in. I screamed in pain.

  A shot would alert guards in Birchton of our location so the others approached from the cave, waving their arms in an attempt to scare it off. It took no notice, still straining against my arms to reach my neck. Its mouth knocked against my forearms with such force that it took every part of me to fight it.

  Every part of me quickly lost the fight. I couldn’t hold it back any longer. It was too strong. I was too weak. My arms fell down. My body exhaled and went numb. The urgency to flee left me.

  The creature’s saliva dripped into my eyes; its rancid, hot breath flooded my senses. Long, claws sharp as scalpels sunk deep into my chest, slowly piercing my skin and working their way deeper. I let out a sigh that hardly had any breath left in it. It was going to rip me open, and I wasn’t sure I cared. Warm blood ran down my sides and into the snow, turning to pink ice.

  I closed my eyes, saw the faces of the people I killed, the woman I left behind, and I made the wrong choice.

  Just for a second, I gave in.

  I let go.

  And that was all the creature needed.

  Words blinked overhead: I have a son. His name is Orry. He needs me. And then they floated away on the snowflakes with my life.

  ROSA

  We were ordered to leave. Grant barked it like a dog. Camille jumped to his side, placed her jeweled fingers on his shoulders, and his hand reached up to pat her. The younger ones left. I understood his pride. He didn’t want his children or me to see him being carried to the wheelchair.

  I was relieved. Dinner was over. I couldn’t have taken one more second of it before I jumped up on the table and kicked the plates into Grant’s face. I pictured it now as I leaned against the smooth-as-butter door of my bedroom that the guard closed and locked as soon as I stepped inside. I still wanted it. Pressing my hands into the reassuring timber, I took a breath. I imagined his face dripping with gravy, a mushroom stuck to his brow. He would kill me. No, first, he would smile, and then he would kill me.

  “Ugh!” I banged the door softly. Scared to attract attention.

  I still didn’t understand what the purpose of the dinner was. If it was meant to make me feel inferior, it did, but not in the way Grant would have wanted. I felt inferior to myself. Disgusted at my own behavior. If Joseph saw me now, he wouldn’t know me. I ran my hands through my hair and let my imagination settle on his face. My mind always went back to home. What was once my home. Joseph in a chair with Orry, sleeping, safe, warm. I reached out to touch him, to feel a curl of his gold hair in my fingertips. I tucked the memory under my skin. He was always with me. They couldn’t take that away.

  I shook my head. At least they were both far away from here.

  I moved towards my bed, kicking off my shoes as I walked. I paused, grunted in frustration, and picked them up, tucking them neatly under the chair by the door. I didn’t want to annoy Red any more than I already had. Well actually, I did, but I knew I shouldn’t.

  Pajamas were laid out on the bed, pink and yellow, made of fabric as soft as a rabbit’s ear. Pink daisies spotted the pattern, and it made me sick. What kind of nightmare was this? It felt like they were wrapping me in silk only to light it on fire. This comfort was a lie, and I was deathly scared of what my true treatment would be. I picked up the pajama top. Its pink, daisy-shaped buttons were nauseating.

  I got into bed fully clothed, ignoring the toothbrush and other toiletries that had been put on the bedside table. I kicked the pajamas with my feet under the quilt until they fell in a heap on the floor.

  My one pathetic attempt at defiance.

  My chest began to rise and fall more rapidly, and panic crept up my arms like spider webs and wrapped around my throat. My eyes darted to the camera trained on my wreck of a body. I was trapped. Turning my head, I screamed into the pillow. How was I going to get out of this?

  Sleep played with me. I’d close my eyes to nightmares. Something hurt deep inside, and I couldn’t name it. I woke up in pain, and I slept in pain.

  When the door opened, I was not surprised, as I’d woken up screaming so hard my voice was hoarse. When I saw who it was, though, I shrank back.

  It was Judith. She walked in, barefoot, looking smaller, more fragile than she had at dinner. She rolled her head around, taking in the position of the camera, and then casually collapsed at the foot of my bed like she done it a million times. I immediately sat up and pulled my feet away from her.

  “Ya don’t need to be scared of me,” she said, he
r words stretching out lazily, her hair falling in perfect waves over her shoulders.

  I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not,” I lied. She was maybe the scariest thing I’d ever come across.

  “Dad sent me in to check on you. We could hear you screaming all the way down the hall.” Hall sounded like haul, and it was grating my ears. I tried not to cover them at the sound of her voice.

  “What do you care?” I snapped. I stared down at her legs, haphazardly folded over each other like she didn’t know where they should go. She put her head down and stared at her hands. They shook, and she placed one over the other to still them.

  “I care because I was told to care,” she whispered at her lap. “I’m supposed to make friends with you.” She tucked some of her golden brown hair behind her ears, and it fell forward again anyway.

  She reached out to pat my leg awkwardly, and I sharply withdrew. I didn’t want her to touch me.

  “Please,” she pleaded.

  Her eyes were wide, blue discs of fear. A tear slid down her cheek like it didn’t want to be there anymore. Don’t feel sorry for her, I told myself. Look at her. She has everything. Even as I thought it, I knew it wasn’t true, but I couldn’t let this girl in. It was too dangerous.

  Judith withdrew her hand, put her orange-tipped finger to her mouth, and started chewing at her cuticles.

  “Dad says you won’t break easily,” she said with a mouthful of picked-off skin. I suppressed my gag reflex.

  “He can’t break me,” I whispered, searching her eyes for something other than preened, parrot-like features. “I’m already broken.”

  She was so anxious, shaky… but there was something in there, maybe something I could use. Her face changed like someone was arranging her facial figures for her, from sad, to amused, and my hopes dashed against the wall and shattered.

  She lulled me. I bought into her delicate, scared routine, then she said, “He will enjoy trying though,” and I saw her father in her.