Glory

by Maureen McGowan

  “No. What. Do. You. See.” She enunciates each word separately. I don’t know what she wants me to say. I need her to trust me again, but I’m not sure how.

  My heart beats so loudly it’s like rocks slamming together in my chest. My blood rushes and I can hear the individual cells colliding inside my veins.

  I gasp. My Deviance has amplified my senses, my awareness of everything inside me. I can’t even blink. I can’t look away no matter how hard I try.

  Looking into my eyes, my own power has trapped me.

  The heat of adrenaline burns my blood and my heartbeat’s deafening. I draw a breath, and the sound and force seem a million times stronger than the rush of wind outside the dome.

  “I know what I see in this mirror,” Mrs. Kalin says. “I see an ungrateful daughter. I see a cold-blooded killer.”

  A chill traces through me, but my terror only makes things worse.

  “Did you think you could trick me?” she asks. “Did you think I was so stupid and weak that I’d believe your lies?” She shakes her head. “For a moment, I hoped you were sincere. I was a fool. But I am glad that I didn’t let them take your head in the Hub. I have a much more fitting fate planned.”

  I want to respond. I want to break away, but I can’t. As attuned as I am to every nerve, every cell in my body, I can’t seem to make any part of me work. And I can’t turn away from the mirror.

  “You must be so ashamed,” she says, “turning against me after I took you in. After I adopted you. After I accepted you as my daughter. It’s my own fault for having such an open heart. I should have known you were a monster. You paralyzed your brother, you killed your mother, and you let your father be expunged for your crimes.”

  Each one of her words is like a sharp stab. I can’t believe I’m not bleeding all over her soft carpet.

  “And now,” she continues, “after I offer you everything, after I offer you more power than you could possibly imagine, what do you do? You try to kill me.” Her hand tightens on my chin, fingers digging in with bruising force. “You deserve to die, you ungrateful brat.”

  My whole body shakes and pain spreads through me, yet I can’t look away.

  I struggle for a breath, but my chest is too tight. I’m squeezing my own lungs, my own heart.

  I’m killing myself.

  And she’s right. I deserve to die. I am a monster. I killed my own mother, and today I tried to do it again.

  I spread my power from my chest to my mind.

  In a flash, the image in the mirror changes.

  Instead of seeing myself as I am now, I see myself at thirteen. I see myself staring at my image in a much smaller mirror with my real mother beside me.

  “I hate you,” I hear myself say to my reflection. “You’re so ugly. No wonder Cal doesn’t like you. You’re ugly, ugly, ugly.”

  “That’s not true,” my mother says in the memory. “And you’re wrong. Cal does like you, but you’re too young for him. He’s nearly sixteen.” She strokes my back. “Don’t be in such a hurry to grow up. In a year or two, the boys will be fighting for the chance to take you to HR for a dating license.”

  “I don’t want those stupid boys!” I yell at my image—at her. “I want Cal. You don’t understand, Mom. You don’t understand anything. I hate you. I hate you!”

  “Glory.” My mother holds my shoulders and tries to turn me from the mirror. “Stop this. Calm down.”

  “No. It’s not fair. If I can’t have Cal, I don’t want to live. I hate myself. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly.” I feel my heart tightening. I feel my head screaming in pain. I feel my body shutting down.

  Then, in my memory, the mirror shatters—and I remember.

  I remember everything that happened the day my mother died.

  My mother wasn’t the first victim of my Deviance. She might have been the first person I killed, but she wasn’t the first person I tried to kill.

  Before I turned on my mother, I used my Deviance on myself.

  Without knowing what I was doing, without knowing I was Deviant, without understanding the power inside me, I almost took my own life.

  And my mother saved me.

  It was Mom who broke the mirror. She broke the mirror to save me from myself. I see the memory in front of me as if it’s happening now. I see blood dripping from her hand where she smashed our small mirror. I hear her voice. I hear Drake yelling at us both to stop.

  My mother’s eyes fill with pain as I yell, transferring all the hate and anger from myself to her. I see her clutch at her chest. And collapse.

  I see the terror in Drake’s eyes and how he dives between us as his armor rises for the first time. His legs collapse as I stare into his eyes and accidentally crush his lower spine.

  Sadness flows into me. Guilt. Shame.

  But also love. Love for my brother for his forgiveness, love for my mother for saving me, and love for my father for the sacrifice he made to protect me.

  Their love doesn’t erase my guilt, but knowing how Mom tried to save me—how she saw what was happening—my love for her expands and fills me completely.

  The memory fades and the image in front of me changes.

  Once again I’m looking into my eyes in the present, with Mrs. Kalin standing beside me, eagerly waiting for me to kill myself. I deserve to die, her thoughts say in my mind.

  My Deviance comes back under my control.

  I blink, then twist and kick the mirror with all my strength.

  The glass shatters. Mrs. Kalin shouts. I might not be able to kill her with my Deviance—she might be able to use hers to talk me out of it every time I try—but that doesn’t mean I can’t kill her.

  Lunging, I pick up a long shard of the mirror and thrust it into her chest.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  BLOOD POOLS ON the floor near Mrs. Kalin, but I can’t look at the body. I bend and put my hands on my knees. I can’t catch my breath.

  Come on! I think. Not now. I can’t pass out. Not now. My friends and my brother need me.

  I suck in breaths, fighting to maintain consciousness, and finally my mind starts to clear.

  I stagger out into the main part of the room and cross to the wall of screens. Sitting in the chair, I place the audio bud in my ear but hear nothing beyond a slight hiss. I scan the controls and notice a red light at the corner of one screen that shows the corridor outside this room.

  Footsteps sound in the audio bud. On the screen, the man who delivered me to Mrs. Kalin paces in the hall. Will he come inside? I might not have much time. I study the controls.

  How can I find the room that my friends are in?

  Without a map, it’s like searching for a single grain of dust in a drift. And I need to stop the constant loop of Mrs. Kalin’s recordings that are broadcasting on all the screens in Haven. We might not know if we can free everyone from Mrs. Kalin’s control, or how long it will take, but removing the constant bombardment of her messages will be a start.

  I shift my focus to the screen showing her image, and I shuffle through menus until I find an option labeled “Broadcast Channels.” I touch the words “Transmit to All” and they fade. I’m hoping I toggled the transmit option from on to off.

  Simultaneous motion on almost all of the screens catches my eyes. All around Haven, people are stopping to turn to the screens. Some people were already watching, but now everyone’s attention is riveted on what I hope are blank screens.

  I spot a camera in the center of the console. I don’t see a microphone, but perhaps it’s built in. I find the magic words in the menus: “Broadcast All.”

  I press it and instantly my face appears on the screen that previously showed Mrs. Kalin. My stomach flutters. I pressed the button without thinking about what I should say.

  “Hello.” I clear my throat. “My name is Glory Solis and I’m here to tell you that everything is going to be okay. You’re going to be free. You’re going to be happy. You’re going to have more choices about where and how you live and what you d
o every day.”

  Some people shout and shake their fists at the screens, and I have no idea what they’re saying. I choose a screen that looks like it’s in a factory and switch on the two-way audio channel.

  “Hello,” I say. “Can you hear me?”

  “Where’s the President?” a man asks. “Why did you stop her message?”

  “Mrs. Kalin’s message won’t be broadcast again. It’s time to think for yourselves.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell everyone that she’s dead, but if they’re still brainwashed, that will cause riots.

  A woman steps up beside the man. “You’re her daughter,” she says.

  “Mrs. Kalin adopted me,” I respond. “But she’s not my mother.” I look around at the other screens, and based on the reactions I’m seeing, my answers to these questions are being broadcast to everyone.

  “Please,” I say. “People of Haven. Go back to your business. And concentrate on what you really believe. Think about what you know to be true, deep in your hearts. More information will follow.”

  I switch the broadcast feature off and then scan all the screens, changing the feeds over and over, hoping to find the room where they’re holding Drake and the others. I finally find a sequence of screens that are clearly in the Hospital, and I cycle through each choice.

  Some of the images are chilling, but I force myself to search each room for my friends. Scanning room after room, I can’t find the right one. Then I do.

  I stand, and the chair clatters back onto the floor. On the screen, I see my brother. He’s limp, in restraints, and his armor is down. An area on his chest, about four inches square, is raw and bleeding, like they cut away a section of his skin.

  Not far from him, Jayma is strapped down on a metal table and appears to be unconscious. I can’t see Burn. Or any techs. I have to get there. Fast. I’ll figure out something to say to my guard outside.

  I race for the door, but then I hear Cal’s voice calling my name. I spin back to the screens.

  “Glory. We’re at location SE41-63. Please contact us.” He repeats the words again, slowly, as if he has no idea whether or not he’s being heard. I find the screen Cal’s on, then press “Broadcast Private.” As soon as I do, the image of Cal appears on my main screen.

  “Cal!”

  He looks over his shoulder. “I got her.” He smiles into the camera as Larsson appears on the screen beside him.

  “You did it!” Cal says. “We saw your broadcast.”

  I nod. “But I need to find the others. They’re in one of the research rooms in the Hospital. They’re hurt.”

  “We’ll come. I knew we shouldn’t have left you guys alone.”

  Larsson shakes his head at Cal. “Glory, you have to find them yourself. Cal and I have other business. Remember, taking out Kalin was only Step One.”

  Cal frowns but doesn’t argue.

  “Where are you?” Cal asks me. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine. And I’m not sure where I am. Somewhere below the Hospital, I think. I was blindfolded and led a long way.”

  “Are you alone?” Larsson asks.

  “For the time being. But it won’t be long before someone comes in.”

  “We found a group who aren’t affected by Kalin’s mind control,” Larsson says. “Some of them never looked at the screens; others seem immune.”

  “That’s great. What’s the plan?”

  “Cal suspects that dust exposure helped him when he was brainwashed. We sent maintenance workers up to the vents. As soon as you appeared on the screens, we gave them the signal to reverse the flow.”

  “Reverse the flow?”

  “We’re going to let some dust into the dome and see if it helps.”

  I scan the other images. In a few areas, closer to the perimeter of the dome, people are shouting and pointing at the vents above them.

  “It won’t be long before there’s widespread panic,” Larsson continues. “Cal and I need to head out and help keep the peace.”

  “People are already noticing the dust,” I tell them. “In the Hub, they’re rushing the exits, pushing one another, covering their mouths with their clothing.”

  “You need to say something,” Larsson says. “Calm them down.”

  “No. You do it. They won’t listen to me and I have no idea what to say.”

  “I can’t. Not from here. We’ll spread the word on the streets, but the broadcast—it’s got to be you.” He leans closer to the camera until his image fills my screen. “You can do it, Glory.”

  A noise distracts him. When he turns back to me, he says, “We’ve got to go. Aim for our originally planned rendezvous. If you’re not there, we’ll try to find you.” He spins away from the camera.

  I’m left all alone.

  Someone pounds on the door to the room.

  I press “Broadcast All” again, and my image appears on the main screen.

  “Don’t be afraid,” I say into the camera. “The very small amount of dust that’s entering Haven is perfectly safe. Management lied to us. Humans—even Normals—can tolerate dust in small quantities. It’s one of the discoveries that Mrs.—that President Kalin made in her experiments. Don’t panic. The dust will help you think more clearly.”

  “President?” The guard’s voice comes through a speaker near the door. His image is on a screen above it. “Is everything okay?” he asks. “Do you need my assistance?” I wait, hoping he’ll leave.

  “Please respond, President Kalin,” he says. “If you do not respond in ten seconds, I will sound the alarm.”

  An alarm sounds, but from the look on his face, he didn’t do it. A huge bang comes from out in the hall.

  And something crashes to the floor—inside the room.

  Mrs. Kalin staggers around the corner, holding one hand to her bloody chest. Her other hand is holding a gun.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  YOU’RE NOT DEAD!” Blood rushes in my ears.

  “Do you think I’m ever without dust?” Mrs. Kalin says. She stumbles. The laser light from her gun flicks around the room, but she quickly recovers and trains it on me.

  She removes her hand from her wound and grips one of the couches for support.

  “You don’t want to kill me,” I say, keeping my voice even.

  “You have no idea what I want.”

  I focus on her forehead. “Then shoot me.”

  She steps forward, leaving a bloody handprint on the pale-yellow sofa.

  I move in front of the door. “Is that gun even loaded?”

  She reaims and fires the gun.

  I jump at the blast. Stuffing from one of the chairs explodes, and the acrid smell of the spent shell fills the air.

  The door flies into the room and slams into me, knocking me facedown, the door on top of me.

  “Mrs. Kalin?” the guard calls.

  “I’m fine! Keep her down.”

  The pressure from the door increases, and it gets harder to breathe as I watch Mrs. Kalin’s high-heeled shoes walk toward the panel of screens. She’s going to turn her messages back on. She’ll undo all we’ve accomplished.

  I can’t let that happen, but I can’t move. Whether the man’s using his own weight or his Deviance, the door has me pinned.

  I feel the alarm’s vibrations through the floor, but something else is repeatedly slamming the concrete, and the intensity increases with each crash.

  There’s a roar. The man shouts. I hear another crash, and then the pressure from the door releases.

  I start to slide out from under the door, but I decide to use it as a shield until I know what’s going on. To my left, the man lies in a heap, buried under the shelving unit. Books, broken glass, and pottery are scattered around him. He groans but isn’t moving. I look toward Mrs. Kalin and see Burn. He’s changed.

  She points the gun at him, but Burn leaps toward her and swats the gun away.

  He picks up Mrs. Kalin and flings her. She arcs through the air, slams into the ceiling, then drops st
raight down.

  I stare at her body. The point of the obelisk sculpture is jutting out through her chest. Her head turns to the side, and blood drips from her mouth.

  This time, dust won’t save her.

  Burn strides over, his footsteps shaking the room.

  I step between him and the bodies. “Burn. Calm down.”

  His face twists with anger and he swings one of his arms. I cringe, fighting the urge to duck. He stops himself and lets his arm drop to his side.

  I climb onto a chair so that I can look into his eyes. But I don’t use my Gift.

  “It’s over,” I tell him. “She’s dead. And you saved my life. Thank you.”

  I see understanding in his eyes and the shift begins. First his skin softens, then his height and bulk diminish. I step down off the chair, and his hands, still large, land softly on my hips.

  One of my hands drifts down from his face to his bare chest, still hard and broad even now that it’s back to normal. I hold my palm over his heart as he breathes heavily.

  “What—”

  “Shh,” I tell him. “Wait until you’re ready. Deep breaths. Look into my eyes.”

  His eyes are the last thing to change back. Warmth returns to them, and in spite of everything that’s just happened, a smile spreads on my face.

  Burn’s bleeding in a few places, and from the precision of the cuts, I’d guess they were inflicted by the Hospital workers.

  “Do you need dust?” I ask.

  He shakes his head.

  “We have to get the others.” I peek into the corridor. “Were you followed?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “How did you find me?”

  He scans the room for weapons and takes a shard of the broken mirror. I take Mrs. Kalin’s gun. Burn looks vulnerable without his coat and with only one weapon.

  “I’m not sure how I got here,” he says. “I think I was chasing someone.”

  I look back at the fallen bookcase with the man buried underneath. Part of me thinks we should help him, but we can’t risk it. “Let’s go.”

  We head into the corridor, and at the end, I push the door open slowly, trying to see what or who is on the other side.