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Him_v4

Page 10

by Mazur, Caitlin


  Seraphine came forward, wrapping her arms around Amelia in a hug Ben seemed incapable of giving her. "Johan will do what he can," she assured her softly, releasing her body. "For now, you should get comfortable here." Her eyes moved from Amelia back behind her to Ben. "Show her to a room," she commanded him sternly, her demeanor changing sharply. "And give her an Omnis. Johan can look over you when he's done with the girl."

  "Of course." Ben sounded hollow.

  Seraphine turned on her heel and made off down the hall. Amelia half expected to feel better, or more reassured after the encounter, but she felt neither. Instead, she peered back over at Ben, who looked at the floor like a wounded puppy.

  "What was that?" Amelia asked, unable to help herself.

  "What was what?"

  "That." She nodded towards where Seraphine had disappeared.

  He shook his head. "She's angry with me." He turned away from her. "And she doesn't want me to worry."

  "About me?" she asked, following him as he headed down the hall.

  "Yes." He kept his pace steady. "About you."

  "Are you?"

  Ben stopped. "Am I what?"

  "Worried about me?"

  "Amelia," he said, an undertone of warning in his voice. "I can't…" He shook his head and pinched the skin between his eyes. She held her breath, but instead he said, "Come with me."

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  He led her back down the hall to the open room with the windows. At second glance, the details were mesmerizing. To the left was a handsome kitchen, complete with low counters that allowed the large windows to have the spotlight, and a long marble island in the middle. To the right, tables, chairs, and couches made up a lounge area. The glass windows on either side looked out upon a landscape, which confused her. As she inched closer to the right side of the room, she looked out at the nighttime skyline view of what looked like New York City.

  But that was impossible. They were in Nevada, and she was fairly sure they were underground.

  "It's not real," Ben said casually, as if he were reading her thoughts.

  She looked away from the window and over her shoulder at him. "Looks real." Just a glance downwards from the window ledge made her stomach drop.

  He shrugged. "Sometimes we get nostalgic," he told her. "Being inside and all. Seraphine likes to think this sort of thing helps."

  "Does it?" she asked.

  He gave a soft laugh. "Sometimes." Ben turned away from her, placing his hand on the glass. It flashed white for a moment, then turned a foggy grey. He stuck his arm through it, the entirety of his forearm disappearing through the wall. She watched him in horror.

  "What are you doing?"

  He looked down at his arm, then back up at her. "Oh," he said, with a small shake of his head. "Sorry. My Omnis," he explained. "I need it fixed."

  "So, sticking it through a wall is going to do that?"

  He grinned. "No," he said. "The mechanism behind this wall identifies the Omnis. Makes it functional. Repairs any problems. You know." He shrugged again. "Normal stuff."

  She actually laughed this time.

  Ben winced, then pulled his arm out from the wall, the inside of his forearm a raw red, like he'd gotten a bad sunburn. "Okay," he said, motioning towards the wall. "It's your turn."

  "Oh!" She put her hand up in protest. "No thank you."

  "Amelia," he said, seriously. "You need an Omnis."

  "Why?"

  His eyes narrowed. "It'll keep you safe. Plus, you'll need one to access anything in this place—your bed, the bathroom."

  "Seems invasive." Something about the whole process made her feel uneasy.

  He practically rolled his eyes at her. "It's not. It really is to keep you safe. It's just like your cell phone," he rationalized to her. "To stay in contact with us if you need anything. Only now you don't have to carry anything in your pocket."

  "Can't I just use my phone?"

  He shook his head. "Won't work here."

  Amelia knew when to admit defeat. She moved forward apprehensively, rubbing the inside of her left arm. "Does it hurt?"

  "For a moment."

  His fingers gripped her arm, gently pulling her towards the gray wall. Before she could protest, he slid her arm through. It felt like running water—cool and refreshing to her skin. A tingling sensation made its way from the tips of her fingers to her elbow, like the limb had fallen asleep. Then, she felt a pinch and finally, firm pressure pushed upon her hand. She retracted, sucking air through her teeth, instinctively massaging the sensitive skin as it reappeared from the other side of the wall.

  To her surprise, her forearm lit up a light blue color. Mesmerized, she touched it, and it rippled, like water to human touch. A voice activated from it, soft and melodic, pleasant to listen to. "State your name," it commanded.

  "A-amelia," she stuttered. "Adkins."

  "Amelia Adkins," the voice repeated. "Female. Twenty-one years of age. Health: Stable. Blood pressure, 100/70. Blood type: A negative."

  The light faded, and she looked up at Ben, not sure whether to be completely terrified or impressed. "Thorough," she said.

  He grinned. "Yes, well, we're good at that." He held his own arm up. "To activate your Omnis, just press lightly. It's voice activated, so if you need something, or you need to contact me, you can just say so." He pointed to her arm. "Try it."

  "Uh." She awkwardly pressed her arm. The blue light reappeared. "Call Ben?" she said clumsily, feeling ridiculous.

  Ben still had his arm up and turned to show her that the light was pulsing. He pushed into his skin and the underside of her face appeared as a projection on his forearm. He looked into his own arm, and she adjusted hers so he could see her properly.

  "Hi," he said, his grin lopsided.

  She fought the urge to laugh. The sheer ridiculousness of all of this. "Hi," she answered.

  He led his arm fall to his side, and she mimicked his movements. "Now, let's get you to your room. I think we could all use a rest."

  "You read my mind." Her adrenaline was beginning to wear off, replaced with exhaustion. Her mind still raced, but she would welcome some rest.

  They returned to the long hallway. It looked the same as when she'd first entered, but the double doors where Faye had entered the medical area were gone. Desperately, she tried to find them, but Ben walked the hallway quickly, and before she knew it, they rounded a new corner. It would be easy to get lost in this place.

  "Here." Ben stopped in front of a single door with no handle. She was about to ask how they'd be able to enter, but Ben beat her to the punch. "Give me your arm."

  He held it out and he pressed her Omnis up against the cold material. The door blinked the same pale blue color as her arm and then dissolved. He motioned for her to follow him and entered the room.

  Low lights flickered on. To the left was another white door she assumed led to a bathroom. There was a bed to the right which looked normal enough, with white sheets and pillows. Beyond that was a plain white dresser. But perhaps the most peculiar thing was the large window that covered the entirety of the far wall. The landscape beyond the window looked like a dark forest, the backdrop a deep navy visible through what looked like large trees. It looked foggy, a little damp, like it had been raining. Amelia had to remind herself that they were underground and that it had to be a projection.

  "Everything you need you can find in the bathroom or the dresser," he told her. "If you're hungry, you can get something from the kitchen. I'll come back in a little to check on you," he said. "And I'll try to get an update on your sister."

  She took a deep breath and nodded at him. "Thank you. Where are you going?" While the thought of being alone for the first time in a few days was certainly appealing to her, she still wanted to make sure she knew where Ben was. She didn't trust the Omnis.

  "I have to take care of some business," he said. "Get some rest."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The door slid shut, and Ben lingered for a mome
nt. Amelia would be safe inside, and he hoped she would try and get some sleep. He had no idea what Seraphine's intentions for her were yet, but at least she was comfortable for now. She was his responsibility. He had brought her here. He was responsible for what happened to her. These were all unfortunate things.

  He still couldn't shake his overwhelming emotions. Things he'd learned to suppress years ago broke through the surface, surprising him at every turn. He was growing weak. The emotion crippled him. The anxiety brought havoc to his nerves. He felt twinges of sadness, of disappointment at Seraphine's slightly frustrated gaze. Worst of all, he felt guilt. There was something else too—lighter and unexpected. An unidentified feeling.

  It terrified him.

  Ben blinked. He needed to see Seraphine.

  He met the curve at the end of the hallway, the shuffling of his shoes echoing off the walls. The Compound was circular, and although it was built to house over fifty individuals, it wasn't necessarily a big place. Still, you could get lost. The hallways and structures often shifted. The Compound appeared in any time period, always at the same coordinates, no matter what. When he had first come to be a Migrator, Seraphine had described it as a limbo area, drifting between the past and future.

  This place was special, the Migrators only constant and Ben realized, with Faye and Amelia here, how lucky they were to have this place at their disposal. Seraphine had always demanded that the place be stocked to the brim with up to date medical supplies, food, vehicles, and now Ben knew why. It was a precaution.

  He stopped again at a new door, identical to the rest. Lifting his arm absentmindedly, he let his arm be scanned, and the door slid upwards. Inside, in a small sitting area sat Seraphine, cross-legged on the couch with Esau next to her. They spoke in hushed voices, both with silver canisters in their hands that Ben knew were filled with sustenance. His stomach growled on instinct.

  Seraphine looked up as he entered, offering him a smile he knew may or may not be genuine. "Ben." She pointed to the table in front of them where a third canister sat. "Drink up."

  He came forward, grabbing the cup but not drinking it. He felt unsettled, and although he was hungry, he wanted to talk to Seraphine first.

  "Seraphine," Ben greeted her, then turned towards Esau and nodded.

  "Esau," Seraphine said gently, not moving from the couch. "Would you give Ben and I a minute to speak, alone?"

  Esau jumped to his feet obediently, sucking the rest of his canister dry before he placed it back on the table with a hollow clink. "Of course," he replied, leaving the room.

  Ben stayed rooted to his spot, clutching his drink, watching Seraphine, almost too terrified to move. He half expected her to jump up on the couch and tear his throat out. But her smile was back, warmer this time.

  "Come sit," she offered, patting the space on the couch next to her.

  He obeyed, moving around the table to sit next to her. He was hot, sweat forming at his hairline. Seraphine shifted so that she had a straight view of him. Her heart-shaped face was freckled, complimenting her green eyes. When relaxed, her face looked young, inviting, and beautiful. In anger, she transformed into something not as pleasant. Right now, she was somewhere in between.

  "Ebenezer." She shook her head. "What am I going to do with you?"

  "Seraphine," he said, his voice coming out in a whisper. "I'm so sorry."

  She put a hand up to silence him. "Oh, Ebenezer. I don't want an apology. I just want to know what happened."

  "What happened?" He was confused by the request.

  "Yes." She nodded encouragingly.

  "Everything was fine," he began, thinking of his blundered trip. "The migration went off without a hitch. The route was as planned, and then," he tried to recount exactly what happened in the moment of the crash. "I felt a pull." He stopped himself there, though there was more to tell. He wouldn't tell her everything that had happened afterwards—the explosion of emotions, this peculiar feeling towards two people he didn't know. He couldn't dare tell her those things.

  "Was your mind wandering?" she asked sternly.

  "No." But he wasn't sure that was the truth.

  She smiled at him knowingly. "Ebenezer," she said. "You made a grave mistake."

  He looked down at his lap. "I know."

  "The girl could die," Seraphine pressed. "Do you know how serious that is?"

  She was speaking to him as if he were a child. Irritation prodded him, but the treatment was warranted. He deserved it, the worst she could give him. His guilt returned, washing over him like a wave. He thought of Amelia crying, her face as she looked up at him for an answer when Faye disappeared in the RV. "I know."

  Seraphine sighed, folded her hands, and placed them in her lap. "You were sent here to fix the timeline." She frowned at him. "As any migration, Ebenezer, this was of utmost importance."

  "I understand." Ben was unable to meet her eyes.

  "Now," Seraphine said, her voice rising slightly, "we have a whole different set of circumstances to deal with. There will be glitches in the timeline from the days you've spent in this period. So much work has been undone." She shook her head.

  Amelia. Faye. The days he went missing from The Compound. All of the interactions he'd had with Predecessors on his way here. The ambulance. All of it would make an impact; everything would have a ripple effect. Work that Migrators before him had done could be erased. He may have undone years' worth of work.

  "Esau was pulled from the mission to come find you and the Predecessors. I was forced to migrate with Johan to fix your mistake. Ebenezer, do you realize what this could do?"

  He did. She knew he did. They were reminded on a daily basis, between migrations, before migrations, after migrations. Any altercation in time can have an effect on the future. That's why it was always important for Migrators to not have contact with anyone in the past. It was time travel 101.

  "Of course I do," he answered respectfully, finding the courage to meet her gaze.

  Her face was empty. He couldn't read her at all. "Lucy and Cheyenne have completed the original mission," she advised him. "So our time here was not wasted. But now we'll have to go back, reevaluate what's happened. We may be forced to take a new trip, before this time, to fix what you've done. And moving that far into the past will take some…" She paused, looking for the word. "Effort."

  "Seraphine—"

  She held up her hand again, to silence him. "Do you remember what happened when Lucy Affected those Predecessors from 2209?" she asked him.

  "Yes."

  "He died. We lost thirty-five people from our time." Seraphine's eyes bore into him, stressing the importance. The guilt seeped through him. "Divergences from the timeline with two women from this time, much farther back, could have devastating consequences. It will be near impossible to keep them here in this time."

  "I'm...so sorry." Ben was unsure of what else to say. He knew nothing else would make this right. This was a mistake that was impossible to come back from.

  Her eyes narrowed. "I know you are." She thought for a moment, then said, "You'll apologize to Lucy and Cheyenne before I see you next."

  "Yes," he answered, then paused. "What are you going to do with them? The girls?"

  "Nothing yet." Seraphine looked away from him now. "I'm going to try to fix your mistake."

  "Seraphine," Ben found himself pleading, "what can I do?"

  She stood, leaving him to watch her from the couch as she crossed the room. "Absolutely nothing," she answered. Her voice was soft, but the words cut through him. He felt like he could fall apart.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Seraphine left Ben to his own thoughts. His stomach had settled, but he was no longer hungry, so he placed the canister down on the table and stared at it angrily. He thought of his journey, counting the number of mistakes he'd made as he squeezed the skin tight between his eyes. Shame, guilt, and disappointment flogged him from every angle. He deserved to feel this. A mistake this large was devastating.
/>   Feeling defeated, he hung his head, closing his eyes as if to try and melt the circumstances of the past few days away. Seraphine's words hung heavy in the air around him and he hated them. He hated what had happened, what he'd done.

  He hated himself, with every ounce of his being.

  Ben stood abruptly. He felt the blood pumping through his veins, speeding up the beating of his heart. His fists clenched. All that confusion and irrationality he'd been feeling was finally focused into one emotion. Anger.

  Touching his forearm, he held it to his lips and whispered, "Lucy." It rippled, searching for the woman, then blinked an angry red. OFF GRID, popped up across his arm. Behind it, a map appeared, finding her location. He scowled at it. Nothing with Lucy was ever easy.

  A short shower later, Ben was still just as mad, if not more. He'd laid down on the bed, trying to quiet his thoughts, to steady the shifts in his emotions, but nothing seemed to work. If Seraphine didn't make her way into his mind, it was Amelia. If not Amelia, it was her sister. He was nauseous, exhausted, and afraid. But he couldn't lie there any longer. It was time to go find Lucy and Cheyenne. He would have to heed Seraphine's command, whether Lucy was at the Compound or not, and there was no better time than right now. Plus, a little fresh air might do him well.

  He stepped into the hallway, his hair still damp from the shower. His door closed behind him swiftly, ruffling the edges of his pants. He looked to his right, a whoosh of another door catching his attention. A head peeked out from behind the frame. Dark black hair, slicked back into a ponytail, and large cocoa eyes came into view. Amelia caught one glimpse of him and slid back into the room just as quickly as she'd emerged.

  His anger subsided slightly. "Amelia?"

  Her face popped out again. "Hi," she responded with a guilty grin, fingering the end of her ponytail. She had changed her clothes to a simple pair of black pants and a white t-shirt. As he came towards her, he could tell she'd showered too. The blotchiness of the emotion had disappeared from her face, but she still seemed restless. She looked at the floor, avoiding his eyes.

 

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