by M. A. Phipps
“What is it?” he whispers.
His presence manages to seep through the impairing cloud, giving me the energy to lift my gaze. I stare at him, noticing the stunned concern in his eyes and wanting nothing more than to lose myself in their hazel depths. To swim in their warmth. To escape this pain.
Tears continue to slide down my cheeks.
“It’s my fault,” I breathe.
His eyes narrow, but I shift away from him before he has the chance to speak. Curling into the fetal position, I retreat into myself, unwilling to expose this feeling to anyone—especially to him. No one should ever feel this way.
Richter’s face appears in my head in response to that thought.
No, I tell myself.
I wouldn’t even wish this on the person I hate the most.
Ezra’s hesitation expels from his body like a wave of heat. Still, after a few seconds, he rises to his feet and bending down in front of me, scoops me up into his arms. He holds me against his chest, and for the first time in a long time, I actually feel safe.
“Come on.” His voice is a soft muttering breath in my ear. “We’re getting out of here.”
The feel of his arms is secure and reassuring—everything I’m only now realizing I need. I don’t struggle. I don’t fight against him in any way. Instead, I give in to everything he’s been telling me, finding solace in the inescapable proximity of this moment.
His stride is steady as he carries me toward the door, but when he touches it, the scream of the metal might as well be an alarm. As if to reinforce this notion, Quinn appears in front of us, barring our exit and preventing us from taking a single step over the threshold.
Raising his gun, he points the barrel at me. His gaze and question, however, are both directed at Ezra.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Ezra’s grip on me tightens. “Solitary confinement isn’t doing her any good. She needs to be around familiar faces.”
Quinn moves forward, sliding his body a few paces sideways to block our escape.
“How many times do I have to tell you she’s dangerous?” he snaps.
“She will be if you keep her in here!” Ezra bites back.
Repositioning his hold on his weapon, Quinn’s finger dances across the trigger. His jaw tenses as a vengeful growl climbs up his throat.
“Don’t think I’ll have any qualms about shooting you. Or her.”
An unexpected click resounds in my ears, and looking up, I see Jenner standing behind Quinn, holding a gun to the back of his head. His eyes are hooded and full of an emotion I don’t think I’ve seen from him before.
“I’d really rather you didn’t do that,” he murmurs.
As I watch him, standing there with his weapon upraised, I find myself remembering another moment in time. I see Jenner, flashing his typical carefree smile as he offers me one-on-one shooting lessons.
My fingers tingle as I recall the feel of my hand around a gun.
Quinn’s anger is visible in the twitching of his cheeks, but he doesn’t show any intention of moving. Another click pierces the silence as Ezra redistributes my weight, and I can just make out the sound of Quinn inhaling a sharp breath. I follow his gaze to see a second gun pressed against his abdomen.
His tongue curls up on the inside of his bottom lip, jutting it out. Muttering a string of indistinct curses, he reluctantly lowers his weapon. Jenner reaches around to take it from him, never once lowering his own.
Quinn casts a livid glare at each of us in turn before muttering, “Nolan will hear about this.”
Ezra removes his gun from the ex-Enforcer’s stomach, returning it to the holster on his belt.
“I’m sure he will,” he says indifferently.
He takes full hold of me again as we exit the room. My body is weak, and I cling to him in a desperate need for support. It’s strange. I can’t remember the last time I felt this way after a vision. Ever since Dr. Richter installed the collar, it’s been effortless. As easy as breathing even.
Not this time.
I can feel the ex-Enforcer’s eyes following our every movement. As if goaded on by his expression, Ezra stalls beside him. Leaning in, his face lingers an inch or so away from Quinn’s ear. I can only just hear the menacing words that breach his lips.
“Threaten her again, and I will kill you.”
Jenner keeps his gun raised until Ezra and I have passed, maintaining his sight on Quinn until we round the nearest corner. The three of us then progress through the network of corridors, unfollowed, and even more surprising, undisturbed. I expect at least one of Nolan’s lackeys to come after us, but so far, nothing.
After a few minutes, Ezra stops outside the entrance to another room. Unlocking the door, he files inside, signaling for Jenner to bolt it again behind us.
As we cross over the threshold, I’m alarmed by how much this space reminds me of my quarters at the DSD. A small cot is pushed against the far wall with a single chair tucked in the corner beside it. Other than that, the room is empty.
Ezra helps me over to the bed, only unhooking his grip on me once I’m positioned on top of the mattress. His touch is cautious—almost as if he’s worried that the slightest caress might cause me pain. He tucks a pillow behind my back, and I immediately sink into it, resting my head against the wall.
I close my eyes, but I’m aware of the increasing distance between us as he lowers himself onto the chair. I hear Jenner plonk down on the floor beside the door.
Silence descends between us, but I’m not sure how long it lasts. Exhaustion creeps over me, drowning out my surroundings and making it difficult to focus on anything apart from the itchy clamminess of my skin. All I want to do is sleep, however, the strange tension flooding the room is like a blaring horn. I can’t ignore it, no matter how much I try to.
My eyes peek open when Jenner’s voice prompts the unavoidable conversation.
“What did you see?”
I notice Ezra flash an annoyed look in his direction, and I drop my eyes to the floor as I remember what I saw, too ashamed to meet either of their expectant gazes. Instead, I stare at a small thread coming off the blanket underneath me.
“I saw my father, back when he was still alive.” Fresh tears burn my eyes, threatening to spill over. “He died because of me,” I breathe. “He wanted to leave . . .” A lump swells in my throat, and for a few seconds, I struggle to speak. It takes my remaining strength to push out the final words. “But he stayed when he found out my mother was pregnant.”
Once again, I find myself thinking of my mother and what I learned about her from my father’s journal. How she put her loyalty to the State before her family—a loyalty which alienated the husband who once loved her. A loyalty which got him killed.
A loyalty which turned her daughter—her only child—into the equivalent of a walking corpse. Or grim reaper.
Or both.
The sound of Ezra’s voice distracts me from my thoughts. His hand presses against mine, compelling me to meet his awaiting gaze.
“I’m sorry about what happened to him. I swear I didn’t know of his involvement until recently. Still, I should’ve told you.”
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “It was something I needed to see for myself.”
I stare at the far wall, although I don’t really see it. The truth overwhelms me, followed by the memories.
“Besides,” I grumble, swatting away the painful images, “for all you knew, I wouldn’t have remembered him anyway.”
“Does that mean you remember now?” Jenner asks. I can hear the hope behind his words.
Glancing at him, I ponder that question, turning it around countless times in my head.
Do I remember?
“Some things. I remember everything before I was initially taken to the DSD, and there are some things I remember since, like—”
“Rai,” Ezra interrupts.
“And Wren Bilken,” Jenner adds.
I nod, wondering why t
hat is until I come to the only possible conclusion. Guilt. Having suppressed my responsibility for Rai’s death for so long, it was only a matter of time before something would cause it to re-emerge. An unseen presence haunting me, now suddenly too real.
“What about us?”
My eyes lock with Ezra’s, and I can’t help feeling uncomfortable with this particular question. I don’t want to keep hurting them.
The words tumble from my lips as I withdraw my hand from his.
“Everything is coming back slowly, in bits and pieces. But what I remember is usually in response to something, kind of like a reaction. I’m not sure there’s anything I can do to speed it up.”
For a while, no one speaks. Ezra and Jenner don’t question me further, and as the minutes pass, we each become lost in our individual thoughts.
I may not fully remember them or what we went through together, but I remember enough—I feel enough—to want to keep them safe. The trouble is that I don’t even know what we’re supposed to be doing or how I can achieve that with everything going on.
Before, I only ever used this power to destroy. I never once thought of trying to protect someone with it.
What if I can’t?
What if by trying to protect one, I inadvertently cause the death of the other?
I no longer find it surprising that I left them when I did. Notwithstanding the risk of what this power might do to them, it’s become clear that Ezra and Jenner have no limits when it comes to me. I can understand it—they’re afraid they’ll lose me, just like they lost Rai—but that doesn’t mean I accept it.
I can’t just stand by and watch as they self-destruct.
“So, what’s the plan?”
Ezra and Jenner exchange glances in response to my irate tone.
My eyebrows pull together as I let out a heavy, exasperated sigh. “You’re going to keep getting yourselves into trouble because of me.”
“It doesn’t matter. Everything’s gone to hell anyway.” Ezra’s face and voice are oddly empty of emotion. “Besides, I don’t think Nolan will bother you anytime soon.”
“What makes you say that?” I ask.
He runs a hand along the back of his neck. “I think Bilken was a test. In fact, I’m sure of it. I think Nolan wanted to see how you’d respond under pressure. To see how you’d react.”
A grimace twists my lips. “You mean, he wanted to see if I’d kill him.”
I sensed it then, and now I know that my suspicions were right on target. What game is Nolan playing at? What does he hope to accomplish by using me?
Jenner leans forward, his expression darkening. “You heard what he said before. Bilken is only useful as an informant. Now that he’s out of the State completely, it would be no big loss to anyone if, you know . . .” He drags a finger across his throat while making a nauseating sound with his mouth. “Plus if you did it, Nolan would have someone to blame to keep his own hands clean.”
I choke out a breathy laugh. “All this from someone who claims to want peace.” My head jerks back and forth in stunned disbelief.
Ezra repositions himself in the chair, drawing my attention to his rigid movements.
“Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be the first time Nolan said something that didn’t add up.”
I give those words a moment to work through my brain. A sour expression distorts his features, making it clear that he’s upset. Tilting my head, I examine his face, wondering what the problem is.
“Is this about my collar?” I whisper.
Ezra’s eyes seem to flicker, but at first, he doesn’t respond. When he finally meets my gaze, there’s a sadness in his voice that I find unsettling.
“He knew, didn’t he? What it’s for?” He glances at my collar as if he can’t physically speak the word. Straining his jaw, he looks away from it and me. “Just makes you think, if he lied to us about that, what else has he lied about?”
Once again, I’m reminded of how much Nolan seems to mirror Dr. Richter. The similarities between them are sinister, especially when I think back to that night in Zone 1. Particularly, the methods Richter used to trick us, and the way he killed Rai without hesitation or remorse.
So much of what happened that night rests on my shoulders. Yet, I still can’t make sense of why I was there in the first place. I was never a member of PHOENIX. I had never held, let alone used, a gun. Hell, I couldn’t even control my powers at that point.
What use was I going to be if things went wrong?
Which they did, a sarcastic voice sneers in the back of my head.
My eyes observe Ezra’s face as I try to figure out how to approach this topic. I’m just beginning to warm up to him, and heading into this territory could very well destroy that.
Regardless, I have to know.
“Why did you bring me into Zone 1 with you that night?”
Ezra looks up at me, but his expression says nothing.
Narrowing my eyes, I charge forward with my verbal assault. “I had no weapons training, and let’s be realistic here, I wasn’t exactly in the best shape. I would’ve been a hindrance more than a help. So, why was I there?”
“I told you why,” he says in a low voice. “Leaving you behind wasn’t a bearable option.”
It’s easy to imagine myself in that original moment, reacting to those words. Even without my memories, I can see how I would’ve believed what he said—how I would’ve caved under the pressure of those hazel eyes staring back at me, just like they are now. After all, it was so foreign to me. So tempting.
So different from anything I’d ever experienced before.
But I’m not the same person anymore.
“Stop it,” I breathe. “That might’ve worked back then, but it’s not going to work now. I want to hear the truth.”
His eyes widen as a soft gasp parts his lips. “That is the truth.”
“Not all of it,” I counter.
An unexpected darkness casts a shadow across his face, letting me know I’ve struck a nerve. Ezra breathes in before exchanging a glance with Jenner. When he turns back to face me, his expression is distant.
“It was better than the alternative,” he admits.
“Which was?”
His fingers interlock as he leans forward in the chair, arms resting in a strained position on his knees.
“You have to realize how things were. People were frustrated and angry. Everything was reaching its breaking point, and we weren’t sure how much longer we could sustain that way of life. Even the Heads of the different sects were fed up because we weren’t any closer to achieving change than when PHOENIX first started . . . .” He lowers his eyes, concentrating on his fidgeting hands. “Then, we got the transmission from Bilken, and it seemed like an opportunity had finally fallen into our laps. The trouble was that it didn’t go unnoticed that this opportunity only arose after you came to us for help.”
His words trigger a memory lodged in the back of my mind, causing the events to re-enact in front of me as if I’m reliving them. I see the compound where I first got to know Ezra and the others. I see the people who lived there, remembering the fear in their gazes whenever they looked at me.
“I tried to appeal to everyone’s sense of empathy to make them accept you, and at first, it seemed to work,” he continues.
I remember his speech.
His charisma.
The way they all followed him—even the middle-aged man who stood amidst the crowd.
Nolan.
“But during that week you spent in a coma, we heard speculation linking you to the transmission from Bilken. How would it have looked if we left you there and then never came back? Our disappearance. Our presumed deaths. They would’ve been pinned on you. The people would’ve wanted someone to blame, and it would’ve been you.” He pauses, taking in a single shaking breath. “Leaving you behind would’ve been the same as leaving a lamb in a lion’s den. It wouldn’t have ended well.”
How blind I was then. How stupid.
How could I have ever believed that those people would accept me, especially considering what they knew? Or even more so, what they didn’t.
Of course, they wouldn’t have trusted me.
Of course, they would have suspected I was involved.
I think of Rai—of her death, and how they all probably blamed me for it.
A lump rises in my throat. “But what happened could’ve been prevented if I hadn’t been there,” I whisper.
“Or maybe you saved lives by being there,” Jenner murmurs.
I peek over at where he sits by the door, feeling the full force of his gaze like a hand against my skin.
“Rai . . . that was unavoidable. She sought Richter out, so it would’ve happened either way. But there’s no saying what would’ve become of the rest of us if you hadn’t been there. Richter only called off the Enforcers because he needed you in one piece.” The material of his shirt scrapes against the wall when he shrugs his shoulders. “You might not have stayed that way if we’d left you at the compound.”
“You don’t know if that’s true.” My voice is weak, the words barely audible.
“No,” Ezra admits. “We don’t. But what we do know is that we preferred the idea of bringing you with us and knowing you’d stay alive over the thought of leaving you behind and potentially coming back to a corpse. At least then, even if the Enforcers had killed us, you would’ve made it out. To me, that was worth sacrificing the success of a thousand missions, let alone one.”
Those final words ring in my ears, deafening me to all other sound and once again reaffirming that he’s telling me the truth.
For the first time since arriving here, I truly begin to feel like I can trust him and Jenner. They wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to keep me safe if I couldn’t. They wouldn’t have compromised their safety for the sake of my own.
When I think of it like that, it’s no wonder I was willing to follow them blindly into danger.
Still, what Ezra just said feels unfamiliar to me, and I find myself speculating why that is. Try as I might, I can’t locate any memory of it in what little I remember.
“Why do I get the feeling this is the first time I’ve heard this?”