Destined
THE ARC BOOK FOUR
Alexandra Moody
http://alexandramoody.com
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 by Alexandra Moody
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Edited by Pete Thompson
Cover Design by Alexandra Moody
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For Phoebs, everyone deserves a beautiful best friend like you.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER ONE
I shouldn’t have come.
It’s all I can think as I approach the busy market square. I can already make out the brightly coloured canopies of market stalls and throngs of people moving between them at the end of the alley. Their movements are stilted and disorderly as their indecisive eyes move from one stall to another.
It’s busier here than I expected, but I shouldn’t be surprised. I glance up at the dark clouds that gather overhead. Their presence feels like a bad omen and a chill runs down my spine. What if something goes wrong?
I harden my expression and attempt to dismiss my fears. Nothing will go wrong. April has been planning for today ever since Joseph announced this appearance last week. This will work. It has to.
I pull my hood up over my head and step out from the alley and into the crowd. I keep my head down as I wind my way cautiously between the men and women, and move towards the large square where people are gathering.
‘Hope City is our chance at a new beginning,’ a man’s voice echoes across the square. He stands atop a rickety looking platform that’s been hastily erected.
There’s a cautious, almost distrustful air to the people watching him in the square. Fear practically radiates from them, emphasised by their stiff postures and furtive glances at their neighbours. There’s almost a question in their expressions as they face the man—what do you want now?
I find a spot to stop near the back of the crowd. It’s close enough to hear, but far enough back that I shouldn’t be noticed. As I scan my surroundings, I catch sight of April standing at the foot of a crumbling wall near the stage. I pull the hood of my jacket further forward, cloaking my eyes in shadow. If she recognises me, I’m dead.
I allow my gaze to drift across the people who have amassed. There’s desperation in so many people’s eyes, but it’s tinged with caution and fear. No one seems impressed by the pretty speech they’re being given. The words are another set of empty promises and these people need more than that right now.
A woman in front of me moves so I can clearly see the man speaking to the crowd; the leader of Hope City, Joseph. Surprise registers on my face as I take him in. His usual cool demeanour has somewhat changed. There are bags under his eyes and his skin is ghostly pale. It’s hard to ignore the authority in his voice though and his eyes are as cold as ever.
The sight of him causes me to take an involuntary step backward. Fear slowly licks its way up the back of my spine as I remember the things this man has done to me. The things I have done to him. My hands tingle as a mixture of anger and talent ripples down into my fingertips.
I slowly exhale, trying to ignore the sound of his voice and calm myself. All I can hear though, is him. All I can think about is the weeks I was held hostage in the West Hope hospital and experimented on. All I can see is Will’s cold, dead body as we lowered him into the ground just a few weeks ago. I tighten my hands into fists. I was right. I shouldn’t be here.
I feel movement at my side and glance to my right to see Sebastian looking down at me. ‘I thought you’d been told not to come,’ he remarks, with an approving grin. His expression changes as he catches sight of the look on my face. ‘You okay?’
‘Fine,’ I respond, through clenched teeth. His presence relaxes me enough that I no longer feel my talent awakening inside me. I take a breath in and then slowly blow it out. ‘How did you know it was me?’ I ask, feeling a little calmer.
I’d done my best to disguise myself, but clearly I haven’t done enough. I glance at the people around me, but no one has noticed I’m here. There’s certainly no one cowering away from me or shouting out in fear.
‘I could feel your body calling out to me from a mile away,’ he jokes, causing me to roll my eyes. ‘Also, you’re wearing my hoodie.’
‘I’m not wearing…’ I peer down at the dark grey hoodie I have zipped up to my neck. He’s right; it’s his. I cross my arms over my chest before looking back at him. ‘Why are you here? I heard April give you the exact same speech I got.’
He gives me a conspiring smile. ‘And miss this? Never.’
The smile drops from his lips as he looks out at the crowd that has gathered to listen to Joseph. His eyes are serious, and as he scans the people around us he moves slightly closer to me. He places a hand on my lower back and leans in. ‘When do you think they’ll start?’
The sound of a hundred chimes rings out over the crowd and I lower my voice to respond. ‘Now, apparently.’
Every head in the crowd moves down to look at their CommuCuff, and I do the same.
‘Everything Joseph has told you is a lie…’ is written in glowing blue font across the glass cuff’s display. ‘Our chance at a new beginning is being wasted…’
The people around me utter several mumbles of agreement. I glance up to gauge Joseph’s reaction. He hasn’t lowered his head to his cuff, but his eyes are like ice as he stares over the crowd. He continues his speech though, barely missing a beat.
‘It’s going to be a long winter and, as such, we will be installing measures to ensure that everyone is well fed,’ he says.
‘In other words, expect to go to bed hungry every night for the next few months,’ Sebastian says, grimly, in my ear. ‘Did he even notice the comm everyone received?’
I watch Joseph as his eyes fall on one of his recruiters. He gives the man a small nod before he looks up at the crowd again.
‘Oh, he noticed,’ I reply.
A small girl holding her mother’s hand in front of us turns and looks directly at me. A hint of recognition lights her eyes and I quickly t
urn away. Even wearing this hood low over my face, I’m too easily recognised.
My face has been broadcast all over the city for weeks since we infiltrated Headquarters. I would be much safer back at our new camp. If that girl has noticed me, maybe she’s not the only one.
I can easily picture the looks of fear people would give me. I can clearly imagine the panic that would fill their eyes if they realised the rebel girl who terrorised Headquarters and nearly killed Joseph, their leader, was among them.
I hazard a look back at the girl, but she has turned away from me. I let out a small sigh, but the tension in my shoulders refuses to let up. I suddenly feel aware of how many people there are in this square; of how open it is and how easy it would be for recruiters to blockade us in. Towering buildings of glass and steel line the square and their shiny faces feel like watching eyes.
Another round of chimes rings out and the square goes deadly quiet as people look down at their cuffs again. ‘How can we start a new life when we are separated from the people we love?’
The comm is closely followed by another: ‘Joseph is building an army in North Hope.’
And then another: ‘He’s experimenting on children in West Hope.’
Gasps rattle through the audience and, as one, they slowly lift their heads to stare accusingly at Joseph. Joseph stares back, his face the picture of innocence.
More chimes sound off in an endless barrage. Ringing across the square, they grow louder and louder, drowning out the sound of Joseph’s voice. Again and again the same message appears on everyone’s cuff: ‘There is no Hope for us under Joseph’s rule.’
‘What is the meaning of this?’ one man yells above the commotion.
‘My son is in West Hope, is he being experimented on?’ cries another.
Joseph slowly lowers his head to his wrist. He blinks at his cuff before raising his head to the crowd.
‘I can assure you these comms are fabrications. This is a cyber attack by the callous terrorists who bombed our celebration day.’ His attempts to appease the crowd fall on deaf ears. The individual shouts from the crowd are joined by others, and as one the angry mob begins to surge towards the stage, demanding answers.
Sebastian’s blue eyes cloud over as he eyes the three alleys that lead from the square. With this many people it will be nearly impossible to reach them and make a quick escape.
‘That’s our cue to leave,’ he says.
A high-pitched shout rises up from the crowd and I whip my head around to look at where it’s come from. Two recruiters are wrestling a man to the ground as he attempts to climb onto the stage. As one pins him down, the other spins a ring of flames from his hands, hovering it dangerously close to the man’s neck.
I stumble backwards, moving to get away, but the people behind me are pushing forward. I glance up at the stage to see more recruiters appearing beside Joseph.
He appears agitated as he looks out over the crowd. His eyes are calculating and his lips form a hard line. Recruiters move to create a circle around him, trying to get him to leave before he gets hurt, but he continues to survey us like he’s waiting for something or someone.
His eyes dance across the mass of people who fight to reach him. But he seems disinterested in them, barely bothered by the shouts they hurl at him. This look of disinterest continues until his eyes fall upon me.
My body goes cold, like I’ve just been doused in frozen water, and a familiar crackle ignites in my veins. His eyes light with recognition and, despite the hood I wear low over my face, I know he can tell it’s me standing here. I feel hooked by his stare, unable to move and unable to look away.
‘Elle!’ Sebastian shouts at me, but even his voice sounds like an echo from far away.
My body is thrown forward as someone hurtles into my back and I’m finally able to break Joseph’s stare. My hands and knees slap against the hard concrete as I hit the ground, but I quickly scramble back to my feet.
I stagger sideways, my pulse racing, as people continue to barge past me. He knows I’m here. Joseph knows I’m here. I look to where I’d last seen Sebastian, but he’s gone. I stand on my tiptoes to try and see his head over the crowd. I catch sight of him being pulled away in the current of people.
My heart beats faster as I try to move towards him, but I struggle to make my way through the surging crowd. We need to get out of here and I need to stay calm, which is becoming increasingly difficult. With each step I take, unbridled energy seems to pulse faster and stronger though my veins.
‘Elle!’ I hear Sebastian shout again, though I can no longer see him.
‘I’m here!’ I yell in response, but my voice is lost in the crowd. Panic coats me in a cold sweat as I push my way forward. I need to get out of here. I can’t be caught by Joseph again. He’ll have his recruiters after me by now and if I don’t get out of here soon I’ll be trapped. My breaths come in short and sharp as I consider being captured. I can’t go back to the hospital again. k`1`2
My talent surges through me as my panic rises, growing stronger with each moment that passes. The danger posed by Joseph’s recruiters suddenly becomes the least of my worries as I feel the familiar tingle awakening along my skin. A dead certainty enters me; I’m going to lose control again.
I take a breath in and attempt to calm myself, but my tentative grasp on my talent is slipping. I can feel it thrumming through me, almost thirsting to be free. I shove my way past people, no longer attempting to be gentle as I try to move faster. I can’t lose control here with all of these people gathered. I don’t want to hurt anyone and that seems to be what my talent does best. The fear pulsing through me only seems to make my control slip further.
Power charges over my skin and when I look at my hands they are covered in tiny sparks of electricity. They spit and hiss as they slowly grow larger and wind their way up my arms until I am engulfed in the deadly raw energy. I hear gasps and shouts of fear around me. People back away, tripping over themselves as they attempt to flee the monster I’m becoming.
I have to get away. I close my eyes tightly, desperately needing to escape; frantically wishing I was anywhere but here. I can’t hurt these people. I feel a rush of frigid air hit my body, before it just as quickly disappears. My eyes dart open, and the crowd of people shying away from me are no longer there. The bright market canopies are gone, replaced with the foul stench of rubbish and the narrow, dark walls of an empty back alley.
I can still hear the commotion of people in the marketplace, but they sound far off in the distance. I’ve teleported to safety and must be blocks from there now.
I sink to my knees with relief and sudden exhaustion. Sparks still dance across my skin, but they crackle contently and ever so slowly they begin to disperse until they are totally gone.
I lower my head down into my hands, rubbing my eyes tiredly. That had been too close. I could have killed all of those people in the square. I look down at my hands, which now appear so normal, and tighten them into fists. Things have been better lately. I shouldn’t have lost control.
A chill works its way down my spine and I look up. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and I no longer feel alone. I slowly stand, looking up and down the alley. It’s just as empty as when I arrived.
‘Hello?’ I call out, wrapping my arms across my body. I can almost sense someone there, but there is no answer to my question. I take a step backward, glancing over my shoulder to the entrance that lies a few feet behind me. There’s a wide street there, which is brighter than the alley and certainly feels safer.
I take another step backward towards it, unable to fight the sensation of being watched. A glass bottle clangs to the ground and I jump. My eyes dart to a small gap between the buildings up ahead. I can hear the bottle rolling to a stop, and I’m certain the sound is coming from in there.
I go to run to the safety of the street behind me, but then an elderly man steps from the shadows where I’d heard the sound. He has greying hair and kind blue eyes.
There’s an old scar running through his eyebrow and he wears an easy smile that’s directed at me. I calm at the sight of him, but my heart still races from the fright he’s given me. I’m just glad he wasn’t a recruiter lurking in the shadows.
He walks towards me, leaning heavily on his rusted metal cane. His steps are painfully slow. ‘Hello Elle,’ he says, smiling widely as he approaches. He’s looking at me like I’m some sort of mirage.
I take a hesitant step back. ‘Do I know you?’ Something about his voice sounds familiar, though I can’t quite put my finger on what it is.
‘Yes. Well, no, you don’t know me.’
I frown and take a closer look at the man. I don’t recognise him; how could he possibly know my name? Fear races through me. ‘You’ve seen the broadcasts about me around town,’ I whisper, my eyes darting to the end of the alley. I have to run before he comms for a recruiter.
He raises a hand out to me. ‘Please don’t leave. I’ve seen them, yes. But that’s not why I’m here. I’ve come a long way to speak with you.’
‘Where have you come from?’ My mind races as I try to sort through the questions this man raises. Is he stalling me, waiting for recruiters to arrive? There’s something about his kind eyes that makes me disregard that idea. He looks at me like he knows me, like he actually cares about me. Who is this guy?
‘That’s not important.’ He pushes a hand through his hair and sighs. ‘Elle, I’m here to warn you…’
His voice is anxious and his eyes are darker, more serious than they were before.
‘Warn me about what…?
‘You are destined to bring great pain to the people of Hope,’ he says, with almost a tinge of sadness and regret to his words. ‘But, some destinies can be changed.’
‘What are you talking about?’ I ask him. I’m trying to decide if the man is crazy or if he’s for real—probably a mixture of both.
‘You are coming to a crossroads. One road will take you to your death, the other to the death of someone you love. The only way to change the future is by taking the wrong path.’
Destined (The ARC Book 4) Page 1