by M. A. Phipps
“When I went to try to pacify the situation, I overheard Nolan say they won’t have any further need for you once everything is in place.” He bends his fingers in the air to emphasize the end of this statement. Sneering, he adds in a quiet voice, “Or us.”
My heart drops.
“It’s all my fault,” I breathe. “I should’ve never come to you for help in the first place.”
I can’t escape the feeling that everything that’s happened since I first met PHOENIX is because of me. Rai’s death. Ezra’s and Jenner’s imprisonment. It’s all because of me.
The people I love always get hurt.
“Hey.” Ezra reaches out his hand and grabs hold of mine, forcing me to look at him. “Don’t say that. We’ll find a way out of this. We always do.”
Pulling away from him, I hang my head, and my hands tighten into fists as my helplessness looms over me. For someone who has experienced such terrifying power, it’s maddening how limited I am by it.
Is there nothing I can do to stop this? I ask myself.
I did what Nolan wanted me to do, exhausting my usefulness in the process, and it doesn’t surprise me at all to hear they no longer need me alive. Even if they did, they would just continue to use Ezra and Jenner as leverage, which is the exact reason Nolan wanted me to regain my memory.
Why else bring Bilken into it? Why else allow me time with Ezra? Without them, I was nothing more than a mindless drone. A killing machine created by the State with no reason to turn against it.
Trepidation moves through me as I grasp Jenner’s words.
If I’m no longer needed, they won’t be either.
I can’t let that happen.
I can’t let anyone else I care about die.
A peculiar feeling of déjà vu swallows me whole. It points out the irony of my thoughts—how the very idea that made me leave them before is now the one thing holding me here and pressuring me to do nothing.
To let the pieces fall where they may.
Once again, Ezra groans in frustration. Leaning forward, he glances between me and Jenner. “So, what now?”
I stare off into the nothingness of the room, aware that we only have one option.
Mimicking Jenner’s statement from yesterday, I mutter, “Now, we wait.”
My eyes dart up when the door swings open. The metal screams, shrieking with agony as it seems to reach out to grab us where we sit huddled in the corner. Ezra and Jenner stumble to their feet, and I follow suit, sliding my hand along the concrete wall to guide me up.
Quinn steps over the threshold with his fingers wrapped around his gun. “It’s time.”
Ezra takes hold of my hand, and I feel Jenner touch my shoulder. We move forward together as one cohesive unit.
As we walk, I’m unnerved by Quinn’s blank expression and stillness. The entire time, I wait for the inevitable drawback.
I discover what it is as soon as we reach the doorway.
Extending his arm to block the entrance, he growls, “Only her.”
Ezra’s arm tenses, and his hold on me tightens until the grip of his hand is painful. Leaning forward, he brings his face within an inch of the ex-Enforcer’s.
“If you think there’s any way in hell—”
Remembering what happened the last time he pissed off Quinn, I shove my body between them, eager to defuse the situation.
“It’s okay,” I mutter.
In truth, I’m apprehensive about going through this alone, but I can’t allow Ezra to get into any more trouble because of me. At the rate he’s going, I’m surprised he hasn’t already gotten himself killed.
His hazel eyes meet mine, incredulity and anger burning within them. My fingers squeeze his in an attempt to calm those raging emotions.
“I’ll be fine,” I reassure him.
He doesn’t respond, but he also doesn’t try to restrain me when my hand slides away from his.
Turning away before I can change my mind, I follow Quinn through the open door—never once looking back as the metal clangs shut behind us.
Trailing after him, I trace his every footstep through the corridors in silence, following like a shadow. Although I’m unfamiliar with the route he takes, I’m well aware what awaits me at the end of it.
The meeting Nolan spoke of with the other Heads of PHOENIX.
I try to visualize their faces, wondering if they’re as twisted and manipulative as their leader, but all I can imagine is a sea of masks. Identical, emotionless, and hiding their true intent.
A grimace twists my lips as pins and needles attack my skin, and a ball of anxiety forms in my stomach, making me feel sick and even more unsettled than I did only moments earlier.
Why not look? I ask myself.
I consider that option for a few steps. Even if I did look, it wouldn’t do any good. I can’t change what’s going to happen, no matter what I see.
Plus, there’s the added issue of Quinn. I know how he feels about me. After all, he’s made no secret of his contempt for my existence. With that in mind, it’s a very real possibility he may view any attempt to use my power as a personal threat against him. I could handle him with ease, but the truth is, I don’t want to. At the end of the day, he’s an innocent in this. I may not like him, but that doesn’t mean he deserves to die.
Glancing up, I pass a few minutes studying the back of his head. I’m overcome with a genuine feeling of curiosity, and so I quicken my pace until I’m walking beside him. The rigidity of his stride becomes more apparent when he casts a suspicious look at me out of the corner of his eye.
Now or never.
“What’s your problem with them?” I ask. “With Ezra and Jenner?”
A small mocking laugh rises up from his lungs, and for a brief instant, I’m amazed that he’s going to answer.
“They don’t respect authority or the rules,” he grumbles.
“Spoken like a true Enforcer,” I note. I ignore the scalding look he flashes in my direction.
Silence fills the corridor as I ready myself for what I’m about to do. It’s risky, but it’s the only option we have.
“You abandoned the State because you don’t agree with their methods.”
He looks startled by my statement but manages to maintain his composure. After a few seconds, he clears his throat—immediately firing back, “It’s you I don’t agree with. What I’ve seen you do. No one deserves that.”
A rush of anger overtakes me. Throwing myself in front of him, I block his path. He reels back as every part of his body freezes in place, except the hand clutching his gun.
“And I deserve what the DSD did to me? I never asked for any of this.”
Inhaling a deep breath, I calm myself down and refocus on the task at hand. I can only hope what I’m saying will eventually get through to him.
“Do you honestly think I would’ve killed those people if I had another choice?” I whisper.
His expression is vacant, although his lips are pursed together. With the unresponsive way he’s reacting, they may as well be sewn shut.
My hands squeeze into fists as the anger returns. “You say it’s me you don’t agree with. If that’s the case, why did you leave the State just to join an organization that intends to use me as well?” I meet his cold gaze with a fiery glare of disgust. “Where’s your conscience now?” I spit.
My words seem to hit a nerve because his expression transitions into a resentful scowl. His sharp tone bites back at me. “My conscience is clear.”
I cock an eyebrow in doubt. “Will it still be clear when thousands of your countrymen lay slaughtered in the streets?”
His upper lip twitches. Instead of responding, he raises his gun and shoves the front of the barrel into my ribs with a rough jab. “Keep walking.”
His threat doesn’t faze me. That weapon is nothing more than a mere toy I could rip away and turn back on him without even having to lift a finger. I only refrain from doing so because of Ezra and Jenner. Like I’ve told myself
before, I can’t allow them to pay for my actions.
We continue our onward trek in silence. The sound of our footsteps echoes throughout the corridor like the gentle ticking of a clock, counting down to the fateful moment that ultimately awaits me. Quinn stops beside yet another metal door, bringing that moment closer.
I linger behind him as he bangs the side of his fist against the steel. When it creaks open an instant later, he takes a reflexive step back.
My expression remains unchanged when he turns around to face me. For a split second, our eyes meet, but he looks away as he elevates his chin and presses his back against the wall. Lifting his arms, he signals toward the door with the end of his gun. When I don’t budge, he jerks his head to reiterate the action.
Sweat breaks out across my palms as my hands ball even tighter, and breathing in, I take a reluctant step forward. I can feel Quinn’s eyes following my movements as my body crosses the threshold, but I’m far more concerned with what stands in front of me.
My first reaction is alarm. Figures surround me on all sides, and I would have been astounded by the number of people present in the room if I hadn’t expected it based on what Nolan said earlier. This would be an important meeting. Paramount to the future of PHOENIX.
Armed guards line the walls—at least six for each of the Heads sitting along the rounded edge of a table that spans the entire length of the room. A large half-moon construction made of steel, it’s the only piece of furniture in the otherwise barren space. With the exception, of course, of the single chair facing it.
The chair meant for me.
A hum of chatter settles around me like a cloud of smoke. It only dies away when, one by one, the people acknowledge my presence. The legs of a metal chair scratch across the floor, drawing my attention to Nolan, who now stands to welcome me.
“Ah, Wynter,” he says in a pleasant, surprised voice.
Ironic considering he’s the one who called me here.
He waves his hand in a dramatic gesture, ushering me to the solitary chair positioned across from him. My every step is confident and steady as I march toward it.
Nolan returns to his seat once I’ve lowered into mine. He then claps his hands together before spreading them out in front of his chest, indicating the others sitting beside him.
“Allow me to introduce you to the Heads of PHOENIX.”
He rattles off a string of names, but I don’t hear a word he says. Instead, I focus on their faces.
Six men of varying ages sit across from me, accompanied by one woman who looks to be in her late forties.
Probably around the same age as Mother, I muse.
I rest my gaze on her, trying to determine if she’s someone we could look to for aid or if she’s all that more terrifying because of her ability to infiltrate this world of men. A faint modicum of respect for her swells in my chest, but it disintegrates the second I remember why she’s here, and even more so when I remember that she supports Nolan’s plan.
His voice pulls me back to the reason for this meeting.
“We were just discussing what you told me before, but why not let them hear it from you? While you’re at it, perhaps you can enlighten us on the details.”
I suck in a sharp breath. My jaw tenses, preventing me from speaking. After what feels like an eternity of silence, I reposition myself and clear my throat.
“I’ve already told you when it’ll happen. What more do you want to know?”
Nolan holds out his hand to stop me, causing my apprehension to grow. My stomach twists with a sensation similar to the one I often felt around Dr. Richter.
In a casual tone, he suggests, “Why don’t you start by telling us what sort of attack we should expect? What will the fallout be?”
It takes everything I have to suppress my anger. These are people we’re talking about. People are going to die because of his planned inaction, and here he is, acting as if they aren’t important. Mere pawns to be used.
As if they’re the same as me.
Bile rises in my throat as my stomach flips. Nolan’s attitude toward the impending death toll is so far beyond appalling that I can’t even think of a proper word to describe it. All I know is, for the first time in my life, I’m grateful that my father is dead. Thankful that he isn’t alive to see this—to witness what PHOENIX has turned into.
Biting the inside of my lower lip, I fight back the tears.
This isn’t the sort of world he wanted.
Swallowing the nausea, I straighten my back, trying to remain as calm as possible. “The attack will be isolated to the Heart, but it will be devastating,” I answer. “Thousands will die.”
I’ve said these exact words to him once before. I suppose on some level, a part of me hopes he’ll finally hear what I’ve been saying while another part of me—a far more sensible part—knows that he won’t. That he can’t.
Or maybe he just doesn’t care.
“And the State’s response?” he asks, proving the sensible part of me right. “What of the aftermath?”
My lips begin to move, but before I can speak, one of the other Heads joins in on the conversation.
“Martial law, no doubt.”
My eyes shift to the woman.
“The attack will result in chaos,” adds the man sitting at the far left side of the table.
I jump when the elderly man beside Nolan slams his hand down hard on the steel surface. “That makes it the perfect time to attack!” he barks.
Muttering their agreement, the other Heads second his statement.
All except for Nolan.
“Or a dangerous time,” he says.
He taps his fingers against the whiskers on his chin and stares off into the room behind me as if lost deep in thought. With the future of PHOENIX and our entire country standing before him, I don’t blame him for taking a moment to consider his options—assuming he hasn’t already made up his mind.
“Wynter,” he breathes suddenly. “What are your thoughts?”
I gape at him in shock, taken aback by his unnecessary need to include me in a debate I’d rather avoid at all costs. The fact that he’s forcing me to participate makes my disdain toward him that much more potent.
Why ask for my advice when he’ll only do the opposite? Why offer my opinion when I know he won’t listen to it?
“The entire Heart will be crippled. Isn’t that what you want?” I whisper.
I wince when his lips pull up into a smile. Either he finds my attitude toward him amusing, or he really is as sick and twisted as I fear.
In a graceful, fluid movement, he rises from his chair.
“It’s decided then. We’ll move out after the first strikes and penetrate the Heart before the State has the opportunity to respond. We’ll utilize the tunnel system to remain clear of the bombings, then go from there.” He claps his hands together while grunting, “That concludes this meeting.”
Noting the dismissal in his tone, the other Heads begin to stand. As the meeting adjourns and the sound of shuffling feet thunders throughout the room, Nolan makes one final announcement.
“Rest now while there’s still time.”
As he says this, his eyes land on mine. There’s a hint of knowing in his gaze that unsettles me beyond reason. I’m not quite sure what it is that I see there, but I can say with certainty that, for once, I’ve met someone even worse than me.
Someone with more blood on their hands than the very person responsible for causing this damn war.
I remain in my seat, staring at the spot where Nolan stood only seconds ago. The way he looked at me. The way he spoke those final words.
I could sense the warning hidden there.
The threat.
Breathing in, my lungs constrict when I hear the sound of heavy footsteps. They reflect off the floor, resounding around me and growing louder until they stop altogether, lingering like a shadow just behind my seat.
A slight stench wafts toward me, accompanied by a wave of heat t
hat radiates with such intensity from the person’s body that I can feel it like a hand pressing against my back. I tense, awaiting the confrontation about to descend on me at any moment.
“You must be relieved. Your part to play in all of this is coming to an end.”
Looking over my shoulder, I see Wren Bilken standing behind me. With a quick glance around the room, I realize we’re the only two still here.
His large frame blocks out the fluorescent light hanging above us. His stance is intimidating, but I remind myself that he’s human. He’s no different than the bodies that have piled up at my feet.
Still, I’d be lying if I said his words didn’t affect me. After all, there’s only one possible end for someone like me, especially now that I’m no longer needed. I’m too dangerous to keep alive, and despite the fact that I’m cooperating with PHOENIX and doing what Nolan wants, he’s undoubtedly aware that he can’t rein me in forever. Dr. Richter tried and look at how well that turned out for him.
There will always be someone else out there. Someone stronger who can take me away and turn me back on the person I belonged to.
The charade can’t go on for much longer.
My eyes narrow as I stare at Bilken, and a long moment passes before my voice breaks the silence.
“And what about your part?” I ask. “It seems your services are no longer needed here either.”
His eyes are dark as he stares at me, and in many ways, it reminds me of the first time I met him—back when I was being interviewed for my work placement exam. Back when my life still held some semblance of normality. The terrorizing fear he struck within me still lingers in the back of my brain, despite everything I’ve been through since that moment.
“I have many talents and qualities that will be indispensable when we build the new world.” His lips pinch into a tight, menacing grin. “There’s still use for me yet.”
“I thought the State was the new world,” I sneer.
He shrugs, keeping his tone indifferent. “There’s always room for improvement.”
An irritating expression crosses his face, and I’m overcome with an uncontrollable urge to hit him. It takes everything I have to smother that feeling. To remind myself of Ezra and Jenner locked away in that cell and how their very lives depend on the actions I take now.