Remember Me

by Stacey Nash

Dad.

  I sprint up the other side of the hill. We’re almost there now. The black shapes emerge into figures standing outside the house—dark pants, dark shirts, black from head to foot—circling like predators in a hunting ring.

  Collective.

  Jax stops.

  I can’t let them get Dad again, so I run even faster.

  A thwack to my stomach jolts me to a stop and Jax’s arms swoop around me just in time, thick and strong, breaking my fall inches from the unforgiving earth. Squirming, I try to break free, but he restrains me from running on.

  I struggle against him, for once not wanting to be in his hold. I have to get to my father. “Let me go.”

  “Look at them, Mae,” Jax hisses near my ear. “They’ll overpower us.” His words rush out through puffed gasps. “We’ll be more help if we scope it out first.”

  He doesn’t get it. He just doesn’t get it. I twist against his hold, wriggling downward in an attempt to escape. There’s no way I’m letting them take Dad again. Will skids to a stop beside us with Lilly hot on his heels. And like he hasn’t noticed everyone else stopped, Ace keeps powering past us.

  A series of curse words I never realized she knew slide right off Lily’s tongue.

  Anger, desperation and need drive my elbow toward Jax’s stomach, but it doesn’t connect with its target. His hold is too tight. “Let me go.”

  He leans close, whispering in my ear, “You’re not rushing into a hopeless situation which, I’d bet is an ambush.”

  The harder I try to break free the tighter his hold becomes.

  “They can’t take Dad again.”

  “You don’t know that’s what they want,” Jax says. “Manvyke’s probably after the Tarlequin.”

  Tarlequin, cover-up, my pendant.

  Crap, the outhouse with peeling flecked paint. My breath barely has time to hitch before I notice no agents are near it, not yet. My tech is safe for now, but Dad’s not, nor are any of our people.

  “How did they find us?” Lilly says, eyes wide, breaths bursting in and out. “They shouldn’t be able to find us. It’s not right that they found us.”

  “The hide-all, maybe … Relax Mae.” Jax’s arms loosen slightly as I stop struggling. “We won’t let them take him. We need to work out what to do.”

  He’s right, even though I don’t want him to be, and even though everything inside me screams to run, logic kicks in. We need to figure it out. I close my eyes and his hold loosens from the tightness of restraint to the firmness of support. Relaxing against him, his chest steadies my trembling body.

  A grunt and scuffle beside us, draw my attention to Will’s flushed face. If not for the creases along his brow, I’d think the redness was from our mad dash. “Let her go,” he practically growls.

  Jax doesn’t.

  “Come on, we can’t stay in the open, they’ll see us.” Without another glance, Will sinks to the ground and scurries along on all fours, his back well under the height of the swishing grass.

  Jax grunts and pulls me down, spinning me around to face him as we sink to our knees. His fingers trace my jaw, cupping my face. “I won’t let them take him,” he says. “You won’t lose him again.”

  I nod. Even though Dad is here in body, he’s still not with us in mind. Manvyke and the Collective robbed me of my father when they altered his memories, erasing me from them. Jax’s lips brush my cheek then move to the other one, dropping a soft kiss. He lowers his arms and slips his hand into mine, his touch calming my mind and my nerves, making everything clearer.

  Jax gives my hand a quick squeeze then releases it, darting away on all fours like Ace when he slinks through the grass. Frig, Ace. Glancing around for the dog, my attention catches on the outhouse which holds the workshop, and again I hope to God that my cover-up is safe. We can’t afford for something that powerful to fall into Manvyke’s hands and, regardless of its power I can’t lose it. The pendant is my only tie to my mother. I huff out a breath, wishing there was tech that could split me in half so I could go two ways at once, and rush after Jax. As much as I don’t want to risk losing it, there’s really no question. Right now, Dad’s more important than the Tarlequin.

  The grass swishes around us, at least two feet above my back. Being so close to the ground fills my nose with dust, its rich, earthy scent tickling my nostrils. A held breath suppresses the threatening sneeze, thankfully.

  We circle around, coming to the small orchard behind the vegetable gardens where Will crouches behind an orange tree, peering around the trunk. He points to the ground indicating we should stay low then holds two fingers up, balls his hand into a fist, and opens up five more. Seven agents. Seven of them and four of us. Those odds aren’t good.

  I mouth, “Anyone else?”

  He squeezes his brows together. Is that a no? If only we had the telcom, I’d be able to speak into his mind. Are our people out there too, or is it just agents? So hard to tell. The yelling, the shots, the single scream. Anything could have happened.

  Jax scurries past Will to the next tree, crouching behind it with his back to its trunk, then he peeks over his shoulder at the dreaded scene.

  Lilly shuffles beside me, her breath still loud and labored, obviously concerned. Her hands fist so tightly her knuckles whiten. The realization of what she has at stake—her mother, father, little brother, and all of her people; the only home she’s ever known—slaps me out of my self-centered worries. This is about more than just me and Dad. I give her arm a gentle squeeze. “We’ll get them out, Lil.”

  Her dark eyes jerk to mine and I greet them with a smile, trying not to let my half-hearted hope show. Right now my friend needs to believe. My attention swings back to Jax. His weapon still in his hand, the clarinium blade shining in the sun now it’s released from the hilt.

  Will sneaks away from the tree and drops onto the ground between me and Lilly, his stomach flat against the hard packed dirt. “There’s seven of them but I can’t see any of ours. They must all be inside.”

  “What are they doing?” I ask.

  “No idea, and hell knows how they found us.”

  “But there was a scream—”

  “And yelling. Dad and Sam would’ve fought,” Lilly says. “Where are our people?”

  I glance at Jax, who’s still surveying the situation. “Yeah, whe—”

  “I told you I don’t know where he is.” Beau’s voice cuts through the afternoon, loud and clear.

  Lilly tenses. Her arm trembles, just a little, and I place my hand on it. Four of us, seven of them. We have no tech and only Jax has a weapon. How the heck are we going to help Beau? I keep my expression calm, for Lilly.

  “On your knees,” commands a voice I don’t know.

  A sharp glance at Jax reveals his face masked with anger. I rise onto my heels and peer over the grass like a farm cat stalking a field mouse. A cluster of people, our people, resistance people, march out of the house and form a small group on the lawn surrounded by agents. Beau stands a little away from the group, an agent pointing a tech gun at his chest.

  “I said, on your knees.”

  Beau continues to stand, glaring at the agent even though his eye level is a full foot lower. The agent brings the butt of his pistol down hard, and a loud whack followed by a thud crumples Beau to the ground. Lilly whimpers and shoots to her feet.

  Damn.

  “Lilly, no!” Will grabs her by the ankle and she face plants the ground, her hands barely breaking her fall in time.

  A scream comes from the group followed by a grunt that sounds loud even from here. I peek up again and Martha’s hands cover her face as if to protect herself from witnessing the beating Beau’s surely about to take. My stomach crumples. We’ve got to stop this, but who have they got? Scanning the small group, I count faces. Martha, a few guys from the other safe house, only half a dozen people in all. No Dad. No Sam. Where are they?

  Lilly growls into the ground. “Get off me. They’ve got my dad. They’re hurting him.” />
  A gunshot sounds and it’s like lightning follows thunder. She rolls onto her back and kicks. Her foot connects with Will’s jaw.

  “Oww.” He grabs his chin and, released, she runs.

  “Lilly!” I jump to my feet, darting out after her. She needs to stop or she’ll just join the small group, becoming another hostage or worse.

  “Dad.” Lilly screams.

  The agents turn at the sound of her voice, giving Beau an unguarded moment. Blood dripping down his face, he jumps to his feet. His fist rises quicker than the agent can turn back and he slams it into the man’s chin.

  Shouts come from behind me. I know it’s Jax, but it sounds like he’s running in another direction and I can’t spare the moment it would take to see what he’s up to. I need to stay with Lilly; help Beau. Sam darts from around the side of the house, Will’s favorite techified stun-mace in hand as he hollers.

  The agents twist and turn like they don’t know which threat to face first. Sam’s mace meets an agent’s chest and the man stiffens, falling to the ground.

  We’re there. Lilly pulls her arm back and drives a fist between the shoulder blades of Beau’s assailant. His gun drops to the ground and Beau grabs it. I scan the small group, which is breaking up fast as fighting erupts, each one of ours against at least one of theirs.

  Dad.

  Jax screams up beside me and thrusts his blade toward a dark haired agent I never saw coming, knocking the man away. I can’t see my dad. Will’s here now too, kicking, punching, and throwing his weight around.

  There he is. Dad, sitting on the ground, rocking back and forth like a small, scared child. Relief settles the roiling nerves weakening my knees.

  I rush toward him but, before I get there, an agent grabs him by the arm and hauls him to his feet.

  “No!” Red swallows my vision, tinting the world around me. They can’t have him. An image of Manvyke porting him out of the council room burns my mind. No way can it happen again.

  I dive at the agent. My hand thwacks into the man’s back and my whole body clashes into his, knocking him to the ground. He rolls beneath me, bucking to rise, but as his head comes around I punch him in the face. The agent splutters and his hand clamps around my throat. His stabbing fingers squeeze. But a sneakered foot slams onto his chest, pinning him down, and when I look up, Will’s scowling at the squirming agent whose hand drops. Will shouts, “Get your dad to safety.”

  I spring off the agent and grab Dad by the arm, his vacant eyes looking through mine. “Annie?”

  Clenching my jaw, I ignore the hurt his delusion brings and guide him through the fighting, careful not to let him come close to any swinging weapons. We move away from danger and onto the veranda where I plop him on the wooden bench seat. And Jax, oh God, he’s stepping backward, slowly losing ground as his blade clashes against an agent’s wicked scythe. “Stay here,” I tell my father, “I need to help.”

  “Help? What’s happening?”

  He’ll be safe here, out of harm’s way. “I’ll be back. Just sit … sit here. Please.” I lower both hands, patting the air, and hoping he understands.

  Damn Collective, I’ll make them pay for robbing me of my father. Pushing aside the thought that maybe he’ll never be right, the heat of anger sears through me as I spin around and run. Past Will who still has the agent pinned.

  Past Lilly helping Beau with another agent. There’s still a trickle of blood still running from Beau’s nose into his mouth. I scan the fight, arms, legs, weapons flying wildly. Blood and screams and grunts cut through the still afternoon air. It was a nice winter’s day, but not anymore.

  Sam has an agent jammed against the trunk of the big oak. Where’s Jax though? Skidding to a stop at the end of the veranda, I slowly step down the stairs, scanning the group again.

  No Jax.

  The agent Beau’s fighting blinks into nothing, and Beau and Lilly both crash to the ground, off balance. Lilly squeals, and Will spins from his place holding the man down.

  “Where’s Jax?” I’m not sure when or how the agent’s hand got free, but Will yells as he grabs it, pinning the man back down. I can’t hear another thing; my heart’s beating too loudly in my eardrums as I rush onto the lawn, spinning around wildly. I need to find Jax.

  An almighty crack sends pain shooting through my head. My legs and arms stiffen. The pain spears my whole body. I can’t move. I fall. Black dots swallow my vision as the world spins into darkness.

  Chapter Three

  Mae

  My eyelids feel as heavy as lead weights. I can’t lift them even though my will to is strong.

  “It was a nasty bump to the head,” a male voice says.

  “Mmm hmm.” It sounds like a woman, close by. Her hand brushes against my shoulder, smoothing warmth around me. My eyes flutter behind their closed lids. I’m awake, lady. The words won’t form on my lips because my mouth is as solid as if it were cast in concrete. A jab into my arm, sharp pain—my eyes spring open then roll back. It’s no use. Sleep overcomes me.

  “Stupid kids should know better than to knock each other unconscious with tech,” says the same voice as before. He chuckles and it sounds kind of muffled—the voice and the laugh—like it’s floating, disconnected from an actual person.

  The woman laughs too. “You know what teenagers are like, no regard for safety. I’ll talk to her.”

  He grunts. The noise feels like it vibrates through my aching head, cutting through the fog, even with my eyes closed. Nausea tugs at my stomach and sits heavily in my throat like a bad taste. But all feeling fades again as I slide into the blackness.

  Pink light shines through my closed eyes. I will them to open but I’m too tired, as if I haven’t slept at all. I need to wake though. I’ve slipped in and out for too long. Don’t sleep, don’t slee … don …

  The click-clack of footsteps jolt me back just in time. They sound like they’re drawing closer, as if approaching from a long corridor. Papers rustle like someone’s flicking through a large pile or maybe a newspaper. There aren’t any voices now thought, just a long sigh followed by the snap of a tutting tongue. My stomach grumbles and every ounce of my being aches. Especially my calves, they feel like I’ve exercised too hard, my arms and my stomach too, my thighs and oh, my aching head. I pry my still heavy eyes open and pale green walls greet me. They aren’t painted: they’re covered in diamond patterned wallpaper, and a curtain partition runs partway around the slender bed I’m lying in. There’s no door in the room, only a break in the curtains. Two cushioned chairs rest under a window to my left, also mint green. All of this soothing hue isn’t helping my roiling stomach. In fact, it’s making it feel even more icky.

  Where the heck am I?

  A deep pressure burns low in my stomach. Great, I need a toilet. I pull myself into a sitting position, but my temples pound like they’re going to explode. Moaning, I lie down again, allowing my eyes to slide closed. The pounding lessens. Just a little.

  “You’re awake,” a girl says. Is it the same voice as before? I don’t think so.

  Peeking through slitted eyes, I see a pale face poking around a curtain the same color as the walls. Her slender hand holds back the billowing fabric and flame-red hair surrounds her petite features. “They said you’d wake soon. I’ve been waiting for hours.”

  I don’t know her, so it’s weird she’s waiting.

  She shoots me a smile that spreads across her whole face. “Are you hungry?”

  I glance down at myself and I’m in some sort of hideous white dress. Looking back to the girl, I give my head a slight shake. I’m not taking food from her, that’d be downright stupid. How did I get here anyway?

  “I need to use the restroom.”

  She watches me with a friendly smile set in place. I’m not sure where the toilet is though, and I’m not sure who she is, but her smile is like a good friend’s.

  She cocks her head to one side. “Oh sorry, silly me,” she says. “Do you need help?”

 
; Help. Help to move? Help to sit up? Help to use the ladies? Not likely. I shake my head, push myself up with my hands, and swing my legs over the narrow bed. The pounding immediately resumes, loud thuds that feel like my brain is building to spontaneous combustion. Squeezing my eyes closed, I try to figure out what happened, thinking back to the last thing I can remember. But I can’t make it past the fog of half wakefulness.

  The thumping lessens to a dull throb; maybe the closed eyes helped. They certainly block the harsh fluorescent lighting.

  Not sure if I’ve been here before, I scrub a hand across the back of my neck and flinch when it brushes a stinging egg-like lump. Ouch, that hurt like hell.

  “Mmm, you took a nasty hit, it’s going to be a bit sore,” she says. “Can you stand up?”

  I keep my eyes closed, too wary of the thud to open them again. “I think so. What do you mean a nasty hit?”

  “You know … the accident …”

  Accident?

  Soft footsteps move across the room with a muted thud, thud, thud that stabs at my headache. Maybe I should just lie down. The burning pressure in my bladder is unrelenting, though. I have to go, and right now. My eyes open again and her pale, freckled face is mere inches from mine as she crouches beside me, invading my personal space.

  “Here, lean on me.” She holds her arm out, crooked at the elbow. I rest my hand on it and push down as I rise, focusing on her voice with the image of her face in my mind. I must know her from somewhere, surely.

  We walk through the curtain dividers, and several empty narrow beds just like mine fill the rest of the room. She steers me past them toward a closed door, but those other beds … Is there anyone else here? I heard voices earlier, so it’s not just the two of us. I can’t see any signs of other people though, not even a crumpled, slept-in bed.

  She reaches forward and pulls the door open to reveal a small tiled bathroom. “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No.”

  Come with me … she wants to come with me to the toilet. That’s way too weird. I walk through the door, now steady on my feet, lower myself onto the seat and stare at the blank wall. An accident. Some accident, it must have knocked the last few hours right out of me.