The Returning

by Rachelle Dekker

  “Brock,” Cece said in surprise. “What is it?”

  “We just got reports from some of our scouts that there is unusual movement coming from the Authority City,” Brock reported.

  “What kind of movement?” Kate asked.

  “An army, seemingly headed this way,” Brock said.

  The entire group erupted, talking all at once.

  “What?” Kate said.

  Eleanor: “No!”

  “Are you sure?” Peter asked.

  Brock nodded. “We sent another scout to confirm; we are sure.”

  “How many?” Wire asked.

  “What do we do?” Alisha asked.

  “The Father help us,” Cece whispered.

  Remko sat back against his chair, letting Brock’s report settle as the rest of the group continued to chatter. He could feel the familiar rise of fear and panic in his chest. Trylin hadn’t seen serious trouble for over twenty years; they were small, hidden in the side of the mountain that both protected them and kept them thriving. They’d never faced an enemy with as much power as the Authority City.

  For years after Aaron had led the Seers to Trylin, they’d been on constant alert. They’d been running for their lives for so long, and those instincts and habits were hard to change. The original Trylin One Hundred, already living in the city by the mountain, had eventually helped Remko and the rest of the Seers let go of the daunting sense of threat that they all carried with such vigor. It was time to practice peace and trust, to stop running. To switch their focus to battles of the mind and heart rather than of the body.

  That transition had changed them all, and now, looking at the faces of those he’d fought with so many years ago, Remko could see the fear. None of them wished to return to that way of life. At times, those old memories seemed a lifetime away, but some of the pain could still be found freshly stored right under the surface.

  “How will we fight them?” Kate asked.

  “We need to start gathering our supplies,” Smith said. “Place people in sectors with allocated weaponry and a squad leader to keep everyone organized.”

  “We should start daily sweeps of the outer walls,” Peter said.

  “I can rig something up quickly to assist with the electrical wiring that runs through the buildings,” Wire said.

  “Yes, that would be helpful,” Alisha added.

  Remko’s mind couldn’t help but be transported back to a time when conversations like this happened daily around fires and in tents as they tried to make the right moves to get them through the next day safely. He’d brought a child into that kind of life. And it was there, in the midst of hatred and chaos, that his child had been taken, the woman he loved had been broken, and he himself had been destroyed. All of which had been necessary. Because in order for his new life to begin, the old one had to be ruined. In order for the woman he loved to be healed, she had to be shattered, and he had finally understood that Elise had always been called to leave so that she could lead them all home.

  None of them were the same as they had been, and they couldn’t go back to where they’d come from. This time they were called to more.

  “I don’t think any of that is necessary,” Remko said. His voice broke the chaos of voices and all turned to face him.

  “What?” Kate said.

  “What do you suggest, then?” Dalen asked.

  Remko took a moment as the familiar tune played through his mind. A song he heard often, a voice that came with joy and pain as it filled his soul with warmth and cut open his heart all at once.

  When peace like a river attendeth my way,

  When sorrows like sea billows roll,

  Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,

  It is well; it is well with my soul.

  “I know the natural reaction is to be fearful, to want to fight back and protect ourselves, but that is what we would have done before, and we are not those people now,” Remko said. “Think of all we have learned since then. Think of the ways our minds and hearts have been changed. I don’t think we should prepare to fight—”

  “We should be prepared not to,” Kate said, finishing Remko’s sentence.

  Silence filled the room as the idea of going against the natural instinct to defend themselves sank in. Even Remko could feel the panic blossom as the thought of letting go truly seeped into the meat of his mind. Not to fight was an unnatural reaction for the body, but then it was just a body and had no ownership over his soul. It was from his soul that he was learning to react, and his soul sang, It is well.

  “So we just let them come kill us all?” Dalen asked.

  “We let them come, and then we practice faith and forgiveness,” Remko said. “We show no resistance and hold no judgment, and then we just see what happens.”

  “Or we could leave,” Eleanor said. “Take everyone and travel farther into Trylin Mountain.”

  Several heads nodded in agreement, but Remko shook his. “As the Seven, many of them our children, were called to be brave and go, I believe we are called to be brave and stay. Running is just another form of resistance. If we run, we might as well fight.”

  More silence wrapped them in its clutches, each mind turning over what the future might hold, working through the emotions of what that might mean, and deciding what to do next.

  “I suppose the time to practice all we have learned has come.” Wire’s voice was small and filled with concern, but it was resolute. He reached over and took Kate’s hand. She gave him a soft smile and a nod before Wire turned his attention back to Remko. “Let them come.”

  Remko smiled at his dear friend.

  Dalen was also nodding. “Let them come.”

  Eventually all sitting around the table were of one heart and one mind. They would not run, and they would not fight. They would live by their faith, and when the fear came, they would walk through it.

  Or at least they would try.

  March 21, 2273

  Sweet Elise,

  I’m not sleeping again. Your sister was called to join the chosen Seven. She’s the last one to be called, but I think I knew it was coming long before she told us. Your father is thrilled, as is your sister, Kennedy, but my heart is broken. It seems I am the only one who senses the danger she will now face, or maybe I’m the only one who cares.

  She’s only eleven. I know it could be years before the time for them to leave comes, and I know that those she would travel with have been training since they were children. I know this is the path chosen for her—I fear I’ve always known—but to think of her actually leaving . . .

  And so I can’t sleep. The wheels in my head won’t stop turning. The voices that call from the dark corners of my bedroom and haunt me while I’m awake won’t leave me alone long enough for me to forget. Then, once I start down the road of fear and worry, it always leads me to one place.

  Back to you.

  I’ve been writing you these letters for nearly fourteen years, hoping one day I’ll hand them all to you and you’ll see that I never stopped thinking of you. I still turn my head toward the cry of a baby only to remember that you wouldn’t even be a child anymore.

  If you’re alive at all. My hand trembles even as I write the words on the page, but no one can confirm that you are, and I am starting to wonder if holding on to an image of you living and thriving is wreaking havoc on my mind. They tell me to have hope and faith, but faith for them is easy because none of them are your mother. None of them carried you for nine months or slept while you were snatched from their side. None of them know this pain. So faith seems impossible.

  I’m trying not to give up, because I’m your mother. And after all the ways I’ve failed you, to give up on you as well would be terribly cruel. So I’m trying to have hope and faith, but what if I can’t?

  Your mother

  10

  Elise woke with a start. She inhaled and lifted her head and shoulders toward the sky but was stopped in her tracks. She tried to use her arms to push hers
elf up, but she couldn’t move them. She glanced down to see she was strapped to a chair, the same kind she had been strapped to for her execution.

  The thought gave her pause, and her mind searched for data. The last few hours of memories swirled back into place all at once. They had tried to kill her and something had happened to her. No, from her. Light, piercing and hot, filling her with power and rattling the minds of those around her. The images she had somehow seen from each of their pasts crashed into her skull again, and a pulsing ache started in the front of her brain. What was that? How had she done that?

  The rush of questions was nearly as painful as the rush of memories. She recalled Dr. Reynard entering the room. What had happened afterward? Where was she now? Why was she alive? Shouldn’t she be dead? She remembered the look in Reynard’s eyes and shivered. He’d seen her do whatever it was that she had done. Again the question of what she had done flitted through her brain.

  She yanked at her restraints and knew within seconds there was no way she could get herself free. The leather straps were thick and tight enough that they were leaving marks against the bare parts of her skin. She moved her eyes around the room, noticing that although the space was very similar it wasn’t exactly the same as the one she’d been in earlier.

  The walls were light but not quite as white as the other room’s. The chair she sat in was not as modern. This floor was dingy from time and use. There was a single door—steel, not white. The ceiling was made of large, square metal plates. And she was alone—no guards or doctors in sight.

  Her mind returned to the events of earlier. She glanced down at her skin, half-expecting to see singe marks from the way it had felt like it was on fire. She searched inside for the spark that had lit her inner flames and found nothing. She listened for the voice that had been present. Nothing.

  The door in front of her creaked to life and she tensed. It opened slowly, two guards stepping inside first, followed by the Scientist. Elise trembled as he walked into the room, followed closely by a smaller man in a lab coat. None of them looked familiar except for Dr. Reynard, and for the first time she wondered what had happened to Sam and the two doctors she’d affected.

  She’d affected? The thought seemed preposterous. It was preposterous, but she struggled to find any other description. Whatever had happened to her—through her—had done something to those people.

  “Elise,” the Scientist said.

  His voice sounded as evil as his presence felt. Every encounter she’d ever experienced with him had left her with a sour taste in her mouth. She was repulsed by the way his skin barely hung on to the bones in his face, by his ashen complexion and dried lips. She feared the way his eyes seemed to drill holes into her soul, as if he were looking to extract whatever he found.

  “Well, well, aren’t you a surprise,” the Scientist said.

  “Where am I?” Elise asked.

  “The Capitol Building.”

  Elise looked around, confused.

  “A part you’ve never been to. There are many unused sections of this grand building, as you are quickly discovering,” the Scientist said.

  “Why?”

  “I needed to have you close enough to monitor constantly without causing suspicion. And there is no closer place than under my own roof. See, Elise, I was surprised by your . . . reaction earlier today. Do you know what I’m referring to?”

  Elise swallowed and kept her mouth shut. The darkness playing over his facial features wasn’t encouraging her to speak.

  “How did you do it?” the Scientist asked.

  “How did I do what?” Elise said.

  Dr. Reynard inhaled, studying Elise with intensity. “I always told Jesse you were a stupid girl; don’t prove me right.”

  Elise didn’t know how to respond. Equal parts fear and anger rolled around in her chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The Scientist considered her words for a second. “You broke their minds.”

  “I broke . . . ?”

  “Yes. You brought back memories they shouldn’t have. More troubling, you reversed critical components of the Genesis Serum in all three of them. A serum I know extremely well with effects I was confident couldn’t be erased.”

  Elise saw a flash of rage wash over Dr. Reynard, and she felt more fear. He was surely going to kill her right here. “I didn’t—” she fought.

  “I watched you. I saw you connect to something and attack my men!”

  “I don’t even know—”

  “I watched you strike them all down without lifting a finger. How, Elise? How did you do it?”

  “I don’t know! . . . I just . . . You were trying to kill me!” Elise swallowed, trying to control her trembling emotions.

  Again he paused and considered her. “I’m still going to kill you.” There wasn’t a bead of emotion in his voice, as if taking her life would be nothing at all. “But not yet.”

  He nodded toward the guards, who left the room only to return carrying a steel crate. Elise’s instincts raged under her skin at what could possibly be inside. The man in the white lab coat removed the top of the crate and took a small package from within. Then he started for the right side of Elise’s chair. He set the package on the ground and pulled a small controller from his pocket. With the press of a button, the chair beneath her started to decline.

  Her heart roared to life inside her rib cage. She struggled against the straps securing her, but to no avail. The chair lurched to a stop and the back of her head smacked the hard headrest. Lab Coat opened the package, yanking out small, flexible patches connected to long wires. He started placing the patches all over Elise’s bare skin, under her shirt, along her arms, on either side of her neck, and on both ankles. The patches were cold and menacing. She couldn’t move; she could hardly breathe.

  “Science is simple, Elise. For every action there is a reaction. Some neurons lie dormant until the correct input comes along and activates them. They need just the right amount of push to fire properly,” Dr. Reynard said.

  Lab Coat pulled a metal box out of the crate and connected the ends of the wires running from her skin into the box’s top along with different-colored switches. He flipped one, causing the box to buzz to life and sending Elise’s body into a panic.

  “Please—I don’t know anything about what I did!” Elise cried.

  The Scientist cocked his head and gazed over her. “I believe you. So let’s find out, shall we? Let’s see just how hard we have to push.” He nodded to Lab Coat and the man flipped another switch.

  Electricity fired through each wire and into the pressure points where the flexible patches met Elise’s skin. Her entire body tensed, razors of pain exploding across every inch of her flesh and digging into her bones and muscles. Her jaw locked in agony, her head rattling like the tail of a snake. Her eyes rolled back into her head so she could only see darkness; her lungs felt as if they might burst. Lab Coat flicked the switch off and the lightning shooting through her joints eased, but the pain stayed, silent tears escaping the corners of her eyes.

  “We just need to find the right stressor,” the Scientist said. “Again.”

  Willis felt like his blood had been replaced with ice. The air around him was dark and freezing. He didn’t know where he was, but his heart knew enough to pound maddeningly inside his ribs. An uneasy tension stirred his bones, and he tried to recall where he’d been.

  Searching through his memories, he remembered entering the Authority City earlier that day, following Aaron to a safe location where they would be staying, and settling in for the night. He probably had gone to sleep soon after that, though he couldn’t remember doing it. If he had, then this darkness was all in his mind.

  He must be dreaming. Though this dream felt odd and unfamiliar. He held his hands up to try to make out something in the darkness, but he found nothing. He’d never experienced such blackness. Through the dark he heard a whimper and froze. He wasn’t alone.

  He waited for i
t to come again. It did—soft but painful. The noise was too small and faint to ascertain who was making it. Female, male, child, adult, he couldn’t tell. All he knew was that it was filled with suffering.

  Willis felt a rush of anxiousness. If he could just see something, maybe he could find his way toward the person and help. A shiver passed through him as the chill in the air sank deeper into his skin, and the whimpering came again. This time Willis determined it was coming from straight ahead of him.

  The darkness continued to disorient him and kept him from getting his bearings. He needed a plan. He couldn’t just start walking blindly in the direction of the whimpering and hope there was ground to meet his feet and not a huge black hole. He edged forward slightly, slowly, one toe at a time, his hands outstretched. He’d hardly started moving when his hands brushed up against something ahead of him in the dark. The sudden presence of something solid caused him to jump, and he was relieved no one was there to see him.

  Willis used both hands to explore what was before him. It was smooth but filled with tiny bumps and imperfections. Plaster, perhaps. He slowly worked his hands down toward the bottom and found that it met the floor where he stood. Moving his hands upward, he found it stretched farther than he could reach. It was a wall. Good—where there was a wall, there was a floor. Usually.

  He followed the wall for a while, and then the darkness started to lessen and fade to gray. There had to be light somewhere to make such a thing happen; with this realization, Willis quickened his pace. The whimpering grew stronger, and he knew he was getting closer. The mysterious light shining in the dark was strong enough now that he could make out his fingers against the wall, and he could see that just ahead of where he stood, the wall ended in a corner.

  A long cry rang out, close enough to him that he was now certain it was female. A thought crashed into his skull out of nowhere. Elise. He rushed forward and around the corner to see a single spotlight, twenty yards ahead, hanging from the ceiling above a long white medical chair. The rest of the room was empty, all a black void except for the light, the chair, and the girl strapped to it.