by E. J. Mellow
“What are you doing?” Dev’s worried voice filters through the barrier of fog. “Molly, stop! You’re hurting yourself.” But I don’t stop. I can’t. I keep going until bits of burning orange flesh fall away from him and I can see a glimpse of Alec underneath. My chest flutters in hope, and even though I’m sagging, my body tapping out, I push forward. Almost, almost—
I’m thrown to the side, my vision blinking back to normal. Dev is on top of me, severing my connection. “What’ve you done?!” I frantically try sitting up, but I’m too weak.
“You were killing yourself!” Dev’s eyes are panicked. He’s about to say something else, when a new Metus charges toward us. I forgot we were still surrounded. With an impatient growl, Dev presses a button on his Arcus, shifting it around to be a double-ended sword, and in a blur of lethal blue-white movement, decapitates the creature. He turns back, our gazes locking before his slides to something next to me.
I shift around to see a half-charred body lying in the sand. Parts are still covered with glowing orange mucus, while others—the more human parts—are singed black and smoking.
I crawl toward it, bile rising in my throat, terrified of what I’ll find.
A disfigured face stares up at me. Its ears are missing, part of its lips are burned away revealing skeleton teeth, and the entirety of its skin is charred black, cracking on each of its labored, shallow breathes. The only thing recognizable is its eyes, its deep-caramel eyes.
“Alec.” My voice sounds distant, like I’m floating above myself. “Alec, I’m so sorry.” I want to press my hand to his face, but I’m scared it will cause him more pain. “It’s my fault,” I say on a sob. “I left you open. It’s my fault.” He tries to move his mouth, but only a gurgle comes out. His gaze flashes in agony. “I tried.” I keep talking like that will make things better. “I tried. I’m so sorry.”
A sound filters out of him—words, barely a whisper. I lean in to make them out, and what I hear sends a knife straight to my heart.
“Kill…me,” he wheezes. “Kill me.”
— 25 —
THERE MUST BE a circuit malfunction that happens in the human body right at the moment of trauma. Some synapse that doesn’t fire, doesn’t connect, allowing the person to be momentarily suspended in a void of nothing. No feelings. No thoughts. No reality. Nothing. But then, like a marionette’s strings being cut, the bad, the horrible, the nightmares—they all come crashing back, and you fall. You fall and you never get up.
I barely register Dev gently sticking Alec in the chest with one of his arrows. Barely hear Alec taking his last gasp, one filled with relief, before he bursts apart. And I barely feel Dev lifting me into his arms, holding me like a child.
The sound of fighting still wraps around us, and with dead eyes, I take in the scene. Five Metus remain, and the two Nocturna guards continue to hold them off.
I’m so over it. The fighting, the Nocturna turning into our enemy, having to kill them once they do. I need it to stop. I need them to stop! Stop, stop, STOP!
Without meaning to, an ear-shattering wail channels out of me, and I’m momentarily consumed by a dark, powerful force that seeps out of my remaining energy.
I blink to time frozen. Dev, the beasts, the Sea, and sky—all of it—stopped. Looking out of eyes that are not my own, I step out of Dev’s embrace. My past Dreamers are with me now, and they guide me forward—us forward—closer to the monsters. I see through them, feel their hate and anger toward the creatures that only live to destroy, my empathy long gone. With new vengefulness churning inside me, I sense the power of it as well as the warning of what it can do to me, but at this moment none of us care. We raise my arms—our arms—and let it out and the slick satisfaction of retribution in. Too easy now, we lock on to the small speck of light within each creature, and our lips curl into a smile as we watch the remaining Metus get blown apart, one by one, like patterned timers going off. Until they’re gone and I’m alone and finally, with great relief, I collapse.
—∞—
“How long has she been like this?”
My body is being carried, my limbs deadweight in someone’s arms.
“The whole ride here. What’s wrong with her? Is she okay?” Dev’s voice—panicked.
A light touch to my wrist. A slight tug in my core. “Yes, but her power is extremely low. She’s drained herself.”
“What do we do?”
“Follow me.”
We run. Wind passes over my skin, and my head bounces back and forth, back and forth. Then I fall away again, into the place where nothing matters.
—∞—
I blink my eyes open to emptiness, a white ceiling so blank and stark that I know I’m in the Dreamer Containment Center. I stay like this, staring. Pretending that I’m just a head without a body, because if I have no body, then I have no heart, and if I have no heart, then I have no pain. But unfortunately I know the reality—I’m whole even if I’m Swiss cheese. And pain, it occupies every drilled-out cavern in me.
“She’s up!” I hear a man’s voice call, and then a hand is in mine. “Molly.” I turn to Dev standing beside the bed I’m in, his brows pinched, face stretched with exhaustion.
“You look tired.” My voice comes out hoarse, broken. “Are you sure you don’t need sleep?”
His relieved smile puts youth back in his eyes, if only momentarily. “You gave us a scare. How are you feeling?”
I really wish he didn’t ask me that. When people ask how you’re feeling, you have to then think about why they needed to ask in the first place. More holes, more pain.
“He’s gone,” I whisper, “and it’s my fault.” Tears gather in my eyes again. “I told him I had it and then left him wide open.”
“Shhh.” Dev sits on the edge of my bed, stroking my hair. “That’s not true. Each of us did everything we could. We were outnumbered.”
The image of Alec’s disfigured face flashes before me, and I know it will never dim. “I tried to help him, Dev. I tried, but I…I made it worse.” I bunch my hands into fists. “What’s the point of having me here if I can’t even protect my friends? What’s the point of learning any of this?!”
“Life’s the point.” Elena enters my room.
“Life?” I ask incredulously. “How is life the point when there’s only been death?”
“To live is to sacrifice, Molly. We all must do our duties in our universes.”
“Why? Who makes these rules? Can’t we just live to live?”
“Some can, but not you. Not any of us.” She glances at Dev before looking back at me. “Some of us have roles that need to be earned with the gifts that are given.”
“Gifts?!” I choke out. “I never asked for any of this! Never asked to have these powers!”
“Didn’t you?” Elena’s eyes lock with mine, and my heart patters in my chest—a rabbit’s foot gone crazy. How many times had I thought about wanting to be more, about doing something that really mattered? Her gaze tells me she knows the secrets I barely tell myself, and I hold back a shiver before looking away.
“Alec will be missed,” she says in a softer tone. “He served Terra bravely. His duty was always one of risk, but he carried it out loyally. He was a Vigil to aspire to and will be remembered by us all with honor.”
“It’s not fair,” I say more to myself. “He didn’t deserve this end.”
“It’s not how you die that’s important, Molly. It’s about what you did in the time that you lived.”
I stay quiet, too tired to fight any more. Even though I wish they would have a wake or a service for those lost, I’m relieved to hear that Elena genuinely feels sadness for Alec’s death. Sometimes I wonder if she’s not filled entirely with apathy.
I track her movements as she crosses the room to sit. Her bodyguards trail behind, remora fish following their shark. “We must discuss what happened,” she says, smoothing the fabric of her white dress.
“We were ambushed.” Dev stands. “Dozens came out
of nowhere. I have no idea why scouts on the way to the Sea didn’t see them coming. I haven’t had a chance to talk with the ones at the outpost yet.”
Elena nods. “Yes, it’s disconcerting that so many could have moved such a great distance undetected. Their advancement in cognitive thought seems to be greater than we predicted.”
Something in her tone makes me think there’s more that she’s keeping at bay. I sit up straighter, ignoring every screaming muscle as I do. “You have another theory to this, don’t you?”
“Yes, but…” Elena’s brows pinch in slightly. “It’s too uncertain to entertain at the moment. Something’s definitely off though.” Her eyes grow unfocused for a moment. “I can feel it.”
We’re all quiet, wrapping our heads around this new development of Metus movement. The idea that their advancement could all be caused because of the new breed of sickos on Earth makes me even more depressed than I currently am. It also makes me angry, really angry. Don’t we have enough problems to deal with? People living in starvation, trying to fight terminal diseases, natural disasters leaving humans homeless. Do we really need to be fighting each other on top of that? Killing one another? The thought makes me see red. All of these actions leading up to tonight and…Alec. A simmering heat swirls in my belly.
“Careful.” Dev places a calming hand to my cheek, and I blink up to him. “You were making the lights tweak out. You only do that when you’re feeling one of two things, and since I’m not lying in that bed with you, I can only assume which one it was.”
“Dev.” I flicker a glance at Elena as I redden.
A hint of a smile plays across his lips. “I was worried I’d never see color in those cheeks again.”
I clear my throat, ignoring the flustering state Dev still manages to put me in, and during a moment like this, for Terra’s sake. “So what can we do?” I ask.
“A lot,” Elena says. “But that’s not what we’re going to discuss right now. There’s something else we need to take care of first.” She stands. “I know you’ve been through much today, but I’m going to ask for a little more.”
“A little more of what?” Dev moves closer to me.
“You tried doing something to Alec tonight, didn’t you Molly?” Elena asks. “Tried to get him back?”
I swallow and nod.
“No other Dreamer has attempted to do that before. Has ever known they could.”
“So?”
“So, you’re more powerful than any Dreamer we’ve ever had.”
The world tilts. “H…how?”
“My theory to this is why I called you back for another Memory session. There’s something you need t—”
“She can’t do a session right now,” Dev interjects. “She’s barely able to lift her head, let alone mentally take on someone else’s thoughts. She needs more time to rest.”
“Unfortunately, more time isn’t a luxury we have at the moment. She’ll be woken up soon, and then we won’t get another chance until she’s locked in again.”
“Then we’ll wait.”
“Dev.” I grab for his hand, but he pulls it away.
“No, Molly. It’s too dangerous. You’ve been through too much. Do you have no sense of self-preservation?” He turns to Elena. “Can’t you tell us your theory? Why all the dramatics of her needing to get another memory?”
“Because this is something she deserves to see firsthand.”
Deserves? My heartbeat quickens. “Which Dreamer is it?”
Elena meets my gaze. “The last one who was here.”
— 26 —
ALEC’S ABSENCE IS a consistent punch to my heart as we walk down the halls. I keep expecting him to be waiting around every corner we turn, but the hall remains empty, a void not even his ghost can fill. Besides my grandmother passing, I haven’t experienced many deaths of the people closest to me, which I know means I’m extremely lucky, but as I lay my head against the soft material of the Dreamer Memory Chair, I have a sinking feeling that’s all about to change.
“I still think this is a bad idea.” Dev frowns, watching Elena set up. After an intense debate that, I’ll be honest, was more of a fight, Dev conceded to me receiving the memory, but only on the condition that he could be there, which, if I am to be honest again, I prefer.
“She’ll be perfectly fine.” Elena connects the floating box filled with my predecessors’ memories into the screen that wraps around my head. “We are monitoring her vitals and can bring her back in a second.”
I interlock my fingers with Dev’s, and he looks down at me—worry and frustration evident in his features. “And you’re here,” I say. “I’m always okay when you’re here.”
“You heard that, right?” He glances up at Elena. “Because I’ll be using you as a witness when she denies it later.”
I tug on his arm. “Well, don’t make me deny it so soon after saying it.”
He grins. “I wish your face wasn’t covered.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to kiss you.”
I can’t help it. I smile, and it momentarily dulls the pain.
Elena clears her throat and looks between the two of us and then down at our connected hands. Whoops, I guess that cat’s out of the bag. She doesn’t say anything, but glances back to Dev, a silent conversation passing. His brows furrow and he nods, to which Elena quirks up the side of her mouth, seemingly pleased.
I’m about to ask what exactly just happened, when she lays a gentle touch to my arm, testing my energy. Every cell jumps, my body indicating it’s restored. “We’re ready,” she says. “Dev, I’ll need you to stand back.”
He doesn’t look happy about this but moves away nonetheless. My attention is pulled from him and refocused toward the Navitas now seeping across my gridded screen. Two swirling blue points drip down directly above my eyes, and I hold perfectly still as they latch on to my pupils, locking me in and sending me away.
Most of these memories start out the same. I learn my name—Robert. Learn the year—1926, and that I’m a very young American boy not yet introduced to Terra, my life still normal. Then there’s the storm, and everything changes. I find out what I am, experience the shock, and then quickly accept it, as I have no other choice. Time passes, my nights consumed only with the Vigil and training and the stark white walls of the DCC.
Robert never experiences Terra like I do, never sees the outside until he has to, until there’s something in need of protecting.
Time leaps forward again, and we’re no longer a boy. We follow two Vigil guards down a dark hallway, the only illumination coming from strips of Navitas that run its length. We stop in front of wide chrome doors with a glowing lightning bolt in the center—the symbol indicating that whatever lies beyond we cannot access on our own. Our curiosity piques. After one Vigil verifies our identities, the giant door huffs open in the middle, and we’re immediately hit with the euphoria that only comes with an excess amount of Navitas. Walking forward, both Robert and I take in a scene that neither of us has ever laid eyes on before. Standing on a second-floor railing, we look down upon a massive dark expanse. Rows upon rows of glowing Navitas orbs are evenly patterned throughout the space and seem to go on for an immeasurable distance. Some pulse blue-white in color, while others are a sickly, swirling sludge of red and black. Each is double the height of the average human and has a monitoring Nocturna circling its perimeter, rapidly touching the liquid surface in random patterns. I know them as Nocturna, but Robert sees them merely as Vigil dressed in black. To him, they are no different than the man and woman leading us. Descending stairs, we’re guided between the mazes of orbs, enabling us to take a closer look. Dozens of images float across their expanse, and the longer we watch we come to realize these are people’s dreams. Some scenes seem like everyday life, others are beautiful and bright, while the ones in the slow-churning black and red are mutated and strange—nightmares. The monitoring Nocturna pay us no mind, completely consumed with tapping on certain images t
hey find of interest. When their hands make contact, the selected scenes glow brighter for a moment before vanishing, being replaced by something new. Glancing from blue-white mass to blue-white mass, our jaw grows slack with awe taking in the vastness of the things imagined, the energy in our core humming to join.
We travel deeper into the heart of the cluster before our guides stop. Looking away from an image of a little girl with butterfly wings, we glance forward, and our breath catches. There before us, surrounded by a ring of thick pulsing Navitas, is Elena. She floats several feet above the ground, golden hair moving as if in a gentle breeze, eyes unfocused and glowing white as thousands of tendrils of energy connect from the circle around her to every part of her body. Robert has no idea who she is other than the most freakishly beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and I—Molly—am completely mind blown. Holy cosmic goddess! This is what Elena is? And I was just yelling at her! We stand there for several minutes, watching Elena frozen as if in a trance, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist…or, uh, a Navitas scientist…to understand that she’s taking in every single image the Nocturna are tapping. What does she do with all those dreams?
Eventually the circle of energy surrounding her begins to spin faster and faster, sending off a gust of wind and a low hum. Slowly Elena floats down until we can no longer see her behind the swirling ring of Navitas, and Robert cranes his neck in an attempt to keep her in his sight. We jump back in surprise when the energy suddenly suctions in like an implosion and filters straight into Elena. She glows inhumanly bright for a moment before the light in her eyes fades to a startling blue, and she stands staring at us. We hide a shiver at the connection, and Robert uses all his strength to remain still as she walks forward. She seems younger than I, Molly, know her to be now, but only slightly.