by M. A. Phipps
Inhaling a deep breath, I redirect my anger into a simple question. “Why abandon what you worked so hard for? It must be exhausting to keep starting over.”
Although we’re alone in the room, I’m aware that others are bound to be lingering nearby. Quinn, in particular. As if in response to this thought, I notice him hovering by the doorway.
Bilken turns away from me, and his heavy footsteps resume as he begins to pace the length of the floor behind my chair.
“The world is always changing,” he says. “The ones who survive are the ones who know which side to choose when the time comes.”
I gawk at him in genuine bewilderment, following his every movement.
Shaking my head, I whisper, “You couldn’t have anticipated this. You couldn’t have known it would get to this point.”
His footsteps abruptly cease. “Couldn’t I? The signs were all there.”
He carries on with his pacing, and I notice the distance between us shrink as he moves closer to the table. I watch him, never once allowing myself to miss even a single breath.
“Perhaps you don’t know this . . .” He hesitates, seeming to rethink his words. “Or maybe you do, and you simply don’t wish to accept it. The State was once no different than PHOENIX. They were a group who desired change and saw the opportunity to rise up and make their mark. Unfortunately, not every organization has good intentions.”
Disbelief floods my system, spreading throughout my body like venom rushing through my veins. “The State was once no different than PHOENIX.” I roll those words over in my head, trying to determine their validity.
Is it true?
Could it be true?
I recall my own epiphany when I first noticed the similarities between PHOENIX and the State. How I had compared them to two sides of the same coin.
Is it true? I ask myself once more.
Of course, it is, a small voice in the back of my head answers.
“Like many radical regimes of the past, the very thing the State wanted would be the thing to destroy it.” He pauses for effect, lowering his voice as he breathes that single all-important word. “Power. They wanted too much too quickly, and it was always inevitable that it would lead to their destruction.”
I scowl. The hatred I feel intensifies in this moment, consuming my body like a sickness. With each passing second, the feeling grows, feeding that loathing until it’s the only emotion left within me.
“What next, then?” I ask. “PHOENIX takes over and ten or twenty years down the line, they’re heading in the same direction. Do you abandon them, too?”
His jaw tenses, and I notice a hint of a human emotion seep through his otherwise inhuman shell.
He takes a step forward, and similar to a menacing storm cloud, his broad figure looms over me. I don’t rise from my seat, but I don’t look away either. Unlike the frightened girl he met all those years ago, I refuse to turn away from him now. To be intimidated.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice his hands ball into fists.
“Do not confuse ambition with loyalty,” he growls. “Men like me get into positions of power because we do what must be done to survive and get ahead.”
Labored breaths escape his lips, and in a strange way, he reminds me of W. P. Headquarters—the very organization he once represented. The day I went to take my placement exam, the building towered over me—much like he does now. He’s a terrifying and even somewhat threatening entity, but in reality, he’s nothing more than an obstacle that must be overcome.
A smile curves along my lips as I picture him as the small, pathetic man he really is. The trouble is, as he said himself, men like him do whatever they have to. They step over people and destroy anyone blocking their path to success.
My eyes widen as his voice cuts through the air like a knife. Each syllable drives the blade deeper into my chest, opening my heart and slicing it in two.
“Your father chose loyalty over ambition. Look where that got him. Maybe if he’d been smart, he’d still be alive.”
His words engulf my very existence, wrapping around my body and turning me into ice. I can’t speak, move, or think. All I’m able to do in this moment is feel.
And what I feel right now is anger.
The rage bubbles through my veins, coursing through my body like an unruly fire. The heat of it melts through the ice within seconds—freeing me of its hold.
Without thinking of the consequences, I leap out of my seat. The metal clangs to the floor as I push against it, pouncing like a wild cat. The last of my humanity falls along with the chair—discarded in this flash of madness.
Bilken stumbles back when I land on his chest. His heavy frame crashes to the concrete floor, sending a tremor throughout the room. I’m light and quick compared to him, and I pin him down in spite of the fact that, if the roles were reversed, he could overpower me with ease. My legs straddle his torso as my hands reach for his neck.
I consider using my powers on him, but it would be far too easy—too unsatisfying. No, in this moment, I want him to feel me—to feel my hands extinguish the miserable life he has betrayed so many others to cling to.
His large body struggles beneath me, and I know with one wrong move, he could throw me off. I’m small compared to him. Minuscule even. But what he didn’t anticipate—and still doesn’t seem to understand—is my ferocity. The animal caged within me is finally freed, clawing in savage hunger at his throat.
Unfortunately, my fight only lasts for about thirty seconds.
A pair of strong arms wrap around my waist, tearing me away from Bilken before I can do any real damage. A sharp pain rushes through my hip as I’m thrown onto the floor.
I look up, ready to pounce again, only to find myself at the end of a gun. Reeling back, my eyes land on the person standing behind it.
On Quinn.
“Enough,” he hisses through clenched teeth.
When I make no attempt to move, Quinn holsters his weapon and reaches down to lift me up. His grasp is firm around my arm, and his fingers tighten further once I’m back on my feet.
He holds me in place as Bilken steadies himself. I watch as my victim pushes himself off the floor and straightens his clothes with a few aggressive strokes of his hands. Without another word, he storms toward the doorway, only pausing to give me one last heated glare.
“Loyalty will be your downfall as well. Like father like daughter. At least your mother had the sense to know which side to choose.”
His words are sharp, plunging the figurative knife even deeper into my chest.
“What?” I gasp.
He ignores me as he crosses the threshold, taking any answers with him.
A fog of confusion muddles my brain, disorienting everything around me. What does he know about my mother or about her loyalties?
“Wait, what did you just say?” I scream after him.
Quinn steps in front of me, barring me from moving. Instead, my eyes follow Bilken until he disappears from view. The entire time, every fiber of my being focuses on one emotion and one emotion only.
Hatred.
I never hated anyone or anything before all of this happened. It wasn’t a natural part of life as dictated by the State, and as such, it was an unfamiliar feeling to me. When I met Dr. Richter, I thought I understood what it felt like, but now I realize I was wrong.
I will never despise anyone as much as I despise Wren Bilken. With one exception, of course.
Me.
When it really comes down to it, what Bilken said is the truth, and it makes me hate myself even more than I hate him. Because loyalty did kill my father. Not loyalty to his country or loyalty to PHOENIX. Not even loyalty to my mother, his wife.
It was his loyalty to me that caused his death.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. All the while, I register Quinn’s grip on my arm. Without meeting his gaze, I nod my head, allowing him to lead me from the room in silence.
My feet drag in a repetitive,
slow trudge through the corridors, trailing behind Quinn as we retrace our steps back to the room where Ezra and Jenner remain imprisoned. The extreme rage that took hold of me only moments before has dissipated, leaving me feeling deflated and weak.
My thoughts revolve around Bilken. I could’ve killed him for his callous remark about my father, but how would I have felt afterward when I know what he said is true?
My father.
My father . . .
I knew his loyalty had killed him from the moment I read his journal. One more burden of guilt I now carry on my shoulders. Bilken believes the same thing will happen to me, but the only future I’m aware of is the one I first saw at my work placement exam.
The thought of it haunts me, and once again, I’m reminded of what will happen in the Heart when the State is attacked.
Which future awaits us? One of them?
Both of them?
What’s stopping me from finding out? I wonder.
After everything I’ve done, after everything I’ve seen, maybe I just can’t stomach the idea of any more death. I’ve witnessed enough destruction to last me at least four lifetimes, and quite frankly, I’ve had enough of it. At this point, I would rather carry on blind than experience another vision.
Perhaps, I simply don’t want to face the harsh truth that made me leave Ezra and Jenner before. The reality that would make me leave them again in a heartbeat.
The cruel and tragic irony that I will be the one to kill them.
I’m not clear on what the future holds for us anymore, but from the unsettled feeling clawing and twisting my gut, I can say with near certainty it’s not one I want. That comprehension makes thoughts of my death more appealing. If my death means Ezra and Jenner will be safe, if it means they’ll stay alive, then I’ll do what has to be done.
One way or another.
Quinn comes to a sudden halt, and glancing up, I see that we’ve arrived at the room. I take a step forward, ready to be reunited with Ezra and Jenner, and to face whatever future stands in front of us together. At least, until I can find the right time to end things.
Seconds pass, but Quinn doesn’t move to open the door. A cloud of suspicion muddles my thoughts when he spins on his heel to face me.
“Why didn’t you use your powers back there?” His voice is hushed, and a rare reluctance shows in his expression.
The last time I saw it, he was still an Enforcer.
I furrow my brow, bewildered by his question until I realize he’s referring to the altercation with Bilken. With my bloodstained track record, I don’t blame him for feeling confused.
A heavy sigh escapes my lungs as I drop my eyes. “I remember who I was before. That inhuman puppet you met a few months ago? That’s not who I really am.”
I lift my gaze. The look on Quinn’s face tells me that he’s considering my words and trying to determine if I actually mean them. A smile pulls at one corner of my mouth.
Of course, I mean them.
Just not in regards to Bilken.
“Or maybe I wanted to know how it would feel to choke the life out of him with my own two hands.” The savage words breach my lips before I can stop myself from saying them.
Quinn steps away from me as his face contorts with an unmistakable revulsion. Without uttering another word, he pulls open the metal door.
I’m not the least bit surprised when it slams shut behind me.
Ezra and Jenner leap off the floor despite their injuries and close the distance between us before I can even take a breath.
“Wynter!” Ezra’s fingers clutch my face as his eyes search my body to ascertain if I’ve been hurt.
I pat the back of his hands, assuring him countless times that I’m fine.
Exhaling a deep breath, I brush between them, nudging the tops of their arms with my shoulders. I can feel their eyes watching me as I plod across the room, but I say nothing as I slump to the floor in a tired heap.
Once again, they’re beside me within seconds. They both crouch so they’re on my level, bringing their bodies in a close huddle toward mine. Although I don’t look up at them, I can sense their concern.
“What happened?” Jenner asks in a quiet voice.
My hands shake as I press them against my chest. Just thinking about what I know makes my stomach churn, threatening to bring up every last shred of self-respect I still possess. Leaning forward, I hang my head between my knees, hoping the feeling will pass.
When I finally speak, the sound of my voice reverberates off the floor and reflects back in my ears as if to mock me.
“The other Heads support Nolan’s plan,” I whisper.
Glancing up, I watch as they exchange solemn glances.
Ezra runs a hand across the back of his neck. “I thought they might.”
The exasperation I’ve felt so many times in the last few weeks returns to swallow me whole. It runs through my body, infecting me until the madness has all but taken over.
“This is so messed up,” I breathe in a bid to maintain my sanity.
Curling into a ball, I look up at Ezra and Jenner, thinking of the differences between now and where we were just two short years ago.
“Isn’t there anything we can do to stop this?” Shaking my head, I put forward the one question I’ve been too afraid to raise before now. “Where’s everyone else? Where are Duke and the others who were living in the compound? I haven’t seen any of them here.”
Nolan was probably well aware of where their allegiances would lie, should he try to take over. Although the people looked to him, they looked to Ezra even more, and I’m willing to bet he knew that. Still, the nature of this place is nothing like the PHOENIX I once knew. Or at least thought I knew. These people are far more like Enforcers than refugees, and that worries me to no sensible end. The thought of where our potential allies might be troubles me even more, especially considering they may be the only ones who can help us.
“When we relocated Outside, the majority were redistributed to the other sects,” Ezra reveals. “We assumed it was because this base is smaller and meant to be operational more than anything else. But it quickly became clear that this was always intended to be a haven for the more radicalized members. The ones who truly matter to PHOENIX.”
Well, that explains the militarized feel of this place, I muse.
“Yeah, and now that we know what Nolan was up to, it’s obvious he did it to stop a rift from forming. Avoid any chance of mutiny by keeping us apart,” Jenner adds.
So, as far as we know, they’re alive. Hopefully, we can use that to our advantage, should it ever come to that.
“You know I really do wonder sometimes.” Ezra licks his lips as he turns his eyes to the floor. “I wonder if we really are any better than the State.”
His comment resonates with me, and I find myself remembering what Bilken said about the State and PHOENIX. A part of me is tempted to tell them, and yet, I don’t feel like it’ll do either of them any good to hear it. It certainly won’t boost anyone’s morale in this situation.
I breathe in, fighting back a scream. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. PHOENIX was supposed to be good. They were meant to rise up and save our ruined country.
Not make it worse.
A faint whisper tickles my ear as Rai’s voice comes to life in the back of my brain. She said those very words to me about PHOENIX being the good guys. Would she still believe it if she could see them now? Would she insist they’re doing what is necessary for the common good? That their actions are warranted?
Rai sacrificed love.
Ezra abandoned his family.
Jenner carried on in spite of his pain.
My father gave up his life because he dreamed of a better world.
However, this isn’t what any of them wanted.
A part of me wonders what Nolan was like before he became the cold, calculating monster he is now. Did he have a family? Did he actually want the better world that PHOENIX was created to fight for, o
r was he like those organizations Bilken spoke of? The ones like the State who didn’t have well-meaning intentions for our world.
The sound of Jenner’s voice diminishes my distress as his words pierce through the futile doubt and indecision we all seem to be feeling.
“Did you see it?” He clears his throat before looking away from me. “PHOENIX. Did you ever see a single thing that suggested it was good?”
My eyes widen in response to his question, and my chest aches as my heart falters, working to accept what I’ve failed to grasp this entire time.
Growing up, we always heard about everything the State blamed on PHOENIX. The terrorist attacks. The fear that surrounded our everyday lives. I know they were never responsible for those crimes because Jenner told me as much, and even Dr. Richter admitted it.
Still, what more do I know about them?
I’ve been blind. Fooled by the friendships and love I found within their ranks. I know the people I met in that compound two years ago. I know they were good people—are good people. However, I’m beginning to realize that, while they found refuge with PHOENIX, they were never truly a part of it. Not really. Not when there are people like Nolan running the show, deciding and dictating their every move.
This whole time, they were the real victims. Instruments to be used for someone else’s gain.
Just like me.
I suppose, on some level, I always knew this was a possibility. It would’ve been naïve of me to think that power can’t corrupt even a worthwhile cause, especially after everything I’ve been through and seen. I just never questioned PHOENIX’s motives because there were people like Ezra, Jenner, and Rai serving as the face of it and assuring me their actions were morally guided.
“No,” I finally answer, shaking my head.
Jenner slams his fist hard against the floor, and I’m taken aback by his unexpected show of anger.
In a trembling voice, he growls, “Everyone who died . . . it’s all been for nothing.”
As I stare at him, it occurs to me that he must be thinking of his family, who died because of his affiliation with PHOENIX.