The ARC 01: Tainted

by Alexandra Moody

  ‘On or off?’

  ‘Off! Off!’ I beg.

  ‘Okay!’ She laughs as she turns the light off.

  ‘Have a good day,’ I mumble sleepily, as the door slams shut and the hard, wooden doorframe shudders.

  I settle back down into bed. After several minutes of tossing, turning and rearranging I can tell I’m too restless to get back to sleep. I lie with my eyes open, wide-awake.

  Even with the light off there is no true darkness in the ARC. Deep blue sensor lights line the point where all walls meet the floor and a small night-light illuminates the door handle. What I’d give for complete darkness right now.

  I keep trying to get comfortable, but it’s pointless. I’m awake and there’s no chance of sleep now. Reluctant to leave the bed’s warmth, but unable to lie restlessly any longer, I get up, grab my towel and head for the communal showers down the hallway.

  The hot steamy water feels amazing, but for some reason I can’t relax. I feel fidgety and agitated, like bugs are squirming under my skin, making it hard for me to stand still. I should be relieved knowing Quinn’s okay. Instead I feel completely on edge. I keep replaying what she said last night over and over in my mind. Surely they didn’t want her to be tainted?

  I’m still restless when I get back to the room, and having to tear through my drawers to try and find a clean set of greys doesn’t seem to be making me any calmer.

  As I begin to brush a comb through my hair, my eyes fall down to the corner of a notebook that peeks out from under Quinn’s bed. Curious, I bend down to pick it up. The book is larger than I’d expected and has ‘Sebastian Scott’ written across the cover, in his heavy, messy scrawl.

  I have seen him with the thing countless times; it’s always tucked up under his arm, almost an extension of himself. On the rare occasions I see him draw, he will prop the book at such an angle to keep his work hidden. He’s never shared the book’s contents with me though, and I have to admit I’m curious.

  The book feels like fire in my fingers and, despite my temptation to open it and see what’s inside, I know its pages hold something deeply personal for Sebastian. I couldn’t open this book anymore than I could read his diary.

  I drop the book onto to my bed, intending to keep it there until I leave for school. It lands at an awkward angle though and falls open to reveal one of its pages. I find myself unable to look away and am captivated by the pictures that cover the paper.

  It’s not just one drawing, but many that fit in any and every spare space on the page. From afar the page is awash with charcoal, but looking closely I can depict each object. There are places like the Atrium and the library, but also drawings of things he couldn’t possibly remember, like the sun and the stars. They’re beautiful and so intricately drawn and interwoven between each other that anyone would admire his talent.

  I freeze when my eyes find their way to one particular sketch. There, drawn on the page, is a perfect likeness of me. I grab the book up to look at it more closely. The drawing is so detailed and it looks as though it must’ve taken him hours to do. He’s even managed to capture the small chickenpox scar on my chin. I touch the spot, almost as if to check I haven’t imagined it.

  Looking at the page, I start to feel uncomfortable. Why did he draw this? I quickly slam the notebook shut. I really ought to get this back to him.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  After a minute of knocking on the door to Sebastian’s quarters, he finally opens it. He’s rubbing his eyes and yawning as he stands in the doorway. He’s topless and his pyjama pants hang loosely off of his waist. I stand there speechless and can literally feel my jaw drop. His arms and chest have filled out, and his stomach is flat and firm. Since when has Sebastian gotten so grown up?

  His eyes, still glazed over with sleep, look down at me and he gives me a drowsy half smile in greeting. ‘Morning,’ he yawns.

  I realise I’m still staring at him and quickly look away, feeling slightly flustered. Nothing more awkward than being caught eyeing up your best friend.

  ‘Sorry about the early call but,’ I hold out his sketchbook, ‘I think this dropped out of your bag last night and wanted to make sure it got back to you.’

  He seems uncomfortable as he takes it from me, and a flash of worry seems to flicker in his eyes. It’s gone quickly though, replaced by his usual confidence. ‘Thanks. Do you want to come in?’ he asks.

  My eyes dart nervously away from his as I hesitate.

  ‘Dad’s not here,’ he says, guessing at my thoughts.

  My body relaxes and as it does a pang of guilt tugs inside me. I hate I’m relieved he’s not here. It’s not that I don’t want to see Adam. It’s just he’s so sad and quiet these days. It’s horrible to see him that way, especially when I know I’m one of the reasons behind it.

  ‘Well, I did bring breakfast,’ I say, nodding down to the container of porridge I hold with a mug of tea cradled precariously on top.

  Sebastian’s stomach growls in response and he laughs, taking the container from me as I follow him inside. The quarters are simple, like most residences in the ARC, but Sebastian and Adam have certainly managed to make it distinctively their own with small touches here and there that I love.

  A tattered football poster hangs from the wall next to Adam’s engineering degree and obviously loved books sit in piles atop one of the dressers. The backs of their spines are thoroughly crinkled from years of reading. Then across the room, sitting on the bedside table, my favourite item: a tarnished silver picture frame with a photo of Sebastian’s parents on their wedding day.

  I walk over to the picture and gently pick it up to look at his mum and dad. They seem so carefree and happy in the unnaturally green garden under the bright, blue cloudless sky. In the bushes behind them pink roses burst out at random matching Adam’s perfectly adorned tie and corsage. The only thing remotely similar to anything down here is the pure white of Isabel’s long flowing wedding dress that matches the pale walls that surround me. Sebastian’s dad is barely recognisable in the picture. He now carries the deep-set frown across his forehead that so many adults in this place seem to wear.

  As I set the picture frame down, my eyes are drawn to Sebastian’s unkempt bed. An assortment of grey clothing is strewn across it and spills onto the floor—Sebastian’s of course. My fingers almost itch with the need to clean the clothes up.

  He lives alone here with his Dad. They moved into smaller quarters after I moved in with Quinn. I always feel a sense of sadness when I come here. It reminds me of the gaping hole left in our lives. How unfair that both his mum and sister were taken. I’d like to think at least Sebastian is lucky he still has one family member left, but the way Adam has become completely withdrawn, I sometimes wonder if he feels like he’s alone.

  I take a seat at the small metal table that sits in the centre of the room. Sebastian throws a top on and then joins me. Sitting in the chair opposite, he clears his throat. ‘So what was the deal with Quinn last night?’

  ‘You know what she’s like,’ I mumble.

  ‘Yeah, but I guess I just expected her to be more considerate.’ He pauses to open the porridge container, which cracks loudly as he pulls off the lid. Looking up at me, he scratches the stubble across his jaw as though confused. ‘She could have at least answered your comm.’

  ‘Her heart is in the right place,’ I respond. ‘I’m just glad she’s okay.’

  He shrugs like he’s not too fussed, but I know it’s just for show. They may have a love-hate relationship, but he’s always respected her for the way she’s looked after me.

  ‘So what’s with the early morning wake up call? Did you miss me?’ he jokes.

  ‘Oh yeah, couldn’t spend another second without you,’ I say, my voice thick with sarcasm.

  ‘Thought so.’ He attempts to cover a smile, and offers the first spoonful of porridge out to me, but I shake my head and refuse. I’ve never had much of a stomach for the stuff and unfortunately it’s all they usually serve
at breakfast.

  ‘It may have been Quinn needing an early start,’ I explain.

  ‘Of course,’ he says, through a mouth full of food.

  I ignore his judgemental tone and take a sip of my precious tea, relishing the feeling as the warm liquid slides down my throat. It’s been such a long time since I’ve had enough points for one, and it tastes even better than I remember. After another sip I place the mug down on the table and allow my fingers to faintly trace the lip of the cup. ‘Quinn said something strange to me last night.’

  Sebastian looks up from his food. ‘Which was?’

  My fingers stop their tracing as I think of how to put it. ‘She seemed to think lots of people are about to be taken. That they actually want people to be tainted and acted like it during her testing.’

  Sebastian’s face doesn’t change and I wonder for a second if he’s even heard me. I wrap my hands around my mug and bring it to my lips again. ‘I don’t know, it’s crazy.’ I take a deep mouthful of tea and look away from him, regretting having raised the subject at all.

  ‘I’ve heard similar things,’ Sebastian eventually says. ‘But I never thought it was true.’

  His words are thoughtful and I get the impression he’s spent some time considering the rumours. I look back to find him staring at me. ‘What do you think now?’ I ask.

  He sighs and places his spoon down on the table. ‘I think I’m sick of all the secrets in this place.’

  ‘That’s hardly something new…’ I venture, uncertainty clawing at my insides. He’s acting so serious and I worry what he’s thinking.

  ‘No. It’s not.’

  The room falls quiet. The silence is filled with tension and the atmosphere heavy with words unsaid. I clasp my tea closer to me and take several long drinks of it to fill the void left by the lack of conversation. We’ve always been so easy around each other, but I don’t know how to deal with him when he acts like this.

  ‘Ahh!’ I jump up quickly. Somehow I’ve completely missed my mouth and poured hot tea down my top. I try to hold the material away from my body so it doesn’t continue to scold me.

  ‘Shit,’ Sebastian swears under his breath as he jumps up and throws me a towel. I catch it and try to dab the wet top dry, but it’s soaked and from the looks of things it’s also stained.

  ‘It could be worse. At least the tea had cooled off a bit,’ I say. ‘I’m just sad I didn’t get to finish it.’

  Sebastian walks over to his drawers. Bending down he pulls out a regulation grey top and passes it to me. ‘Here. It’s going to be too big for you, but at least you won’t be wet.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I clutch the top awkwardly in my arms, waiting for him to look away. ‘Where should I…’

  ‘Oh,’ Sebastian flushes and hastily turns around. ‘I promise I won’t peek.’

  I can feel my cheeks redden in response, and try to laugh it off. ‘Sure you won’t,’ I joke, hoping he doesn’t, but also uncertain how I’d feel if he did.

  As I lift my top off to replace it with his I glance over my shoulder. Sebastian stands determinedly facing the opposite wall with his hands over his eyes. I smile to myself and quickly pop his top over my head.

  It’s massive and the sleeves hang to my knees. I guess it was to be expected considering how much larger Sebastian is. ‘So what do you think?’ I ask seriously.

  Sebastian turns back to me and bursts out laughing. His laughter almost makes being scorched by my drink worth it. At least he’s snapped out of his mood.

  ‘I think we’re going to need to roll those sleeves up!’ he says, walking over to come and help me.

  He stops right in front of me, gently holds up my hand and starts rolling the ridiculous sleeves. I take in a deep breath, trying to ignore how uncomfortable I feel at his proximity, but he stands so close that as I breathe in I can’t ignore how good he smells.

  ‘All done,’ he says quietly, his voice is rough and he clears his throat as though uncomfortable with the sound. His hand still holds mine and he begins softly tracing his thumb over the back of it, just like he’d done in the library.

  ‘Uh—thanks.’ I pull my hand from his and take a quick step back. I can’t let him get close like that again. Confusion touches his eyes and he seems upset by my reaction.

  ‘That’s done the trick,’ I mutter, frowning. I don’t know what’s gotten into him or me. He’s never acted this way before and I’ve never been so jumpy around him. ‘I should go,’ I continue.

  I start to walk towards the door, but as I reach my hand towards the door handle I turn and say, ‘I’ll catch you at school.’ It’s said as light heartedly as I can muster, like everything’s normal, but he merely shrugs in response.

  As the door bangs shut behind me, I am overwhelmed by the feeling I’ve done something wrong, but that’s not what worries me the most. It’s the feeling something has changed between Sebastian and me—and I’m not sure if it’s a good thing.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘Wake up Elle!’ Gemma calls at me. I look over in response and realise she’s just thrown me the basketball and it’s sailed straight over my head.

  ‘You could at least try to help us win!’ she jokes, as I run to retrieve the ball.

  I can’t blame her for being frustrated by my lack of enthusiasm for the game today. I’ve been seriously distracted all day by Sebastian’s absence from school.

  Not once did I see him today, and I always manage to bump into him, or at the very least see him during breaks. Even tonight, when school finally finished for the day, I would’ve expected him to turn up for a game. Maybe he’s avoiding me?

  ‘Are you throwing that ball back anytime soon?’ Gemma yells. I still hold it absently in my hands.

  ‘Oh, right.’ I snap out of my troubling thoughts and throw the ball back to her.

  ‘You’re fighting a losing battle there Gems,’ Cam, one of the boys on the other team jests. ‘If you want to win you should come and join the better side.’

  ‘What can I say, I just love an underdog,’ she retorts. He raises his eyebrows in response, takes two long strides over to her and hoists her over his shoulder.

  ‘Put me down Cam!’ she squeals with laughter.

  The game is pretty much over after this as the two of them chase each other up and down the court flirting. The rest of us retreat to the side of the court.

  ‘I don’t think you’re the underdog,’ Jase, one of the boys from the other team, says to me.

  ‘Thanks Jase, but I really was playing pretty atrocious tonight,’ I respond.

  ‘True,’ he laughs. ‘Hopefully you’ll be better next week.’

  ‘God I hope so!’ I take a seat on the ground next to Amy.

  ‘I’m surprised you came out tonight,’ I say to Amy, as I ease myself onto the polished wooden floor. She never plays sport unless it’s during school hours, choosing to use most of her time studying. I practically never spend any time with her outside class.

  She looks out across the court, her eyes almost sad as she smooths down her long, black ponytail. ‘My parents are insisting I immerse myself in all aspects of my education.’

  I wrinkle my face up at the thought. It must suck having to constantly live up to parents’ expectations. I can’t imagine Amy ever being a disappointment though.

  ‘You’re pretty good you know. You definitely have the height for basketball,’ I say.

  ‘Just a shame about my two left feet,’ she grumbles. ‘Speaking of left feet. You coming to the dance?’

  ‘Yeah. When is it again?’ I’ve completely forgotten about it with the stress of Quinn’s testing.

  ‘A few weeks time. It should be good!’

  ‘Mmm,’ I agree. The school hosts a dance for all the high school students a few times a year, but I’m not really into the dancing bit so much. I do like the outfits we’re allowed to wear though.

  Usually straight after school on a Friday everyone heads to the costume room, where donated clothes from before i
mpact are held. Each student is allowed to rent one outfit to wear to the dance instead of our greys. While the ARC doesn’t have enough outfits from before impact to use for everyday wear, the school does have enough available for special occasions.

  ‘I just hope I’m lucky enough to get a good dress for it,’ I say. So many of the clothes have fallen into disrepair, it can be a struggle to find something half decent.

  Amy nods eagerly in response. ‘Yeah, I probably wouldn’t go if I ended up with something bad. Some of the girls can be so mean.’

  She doesn’t need to elaborate, I already know exactly who she’s talking about: Kate Evans. I’m pretty certain she made two girls and a teacher cry at our last dance. That girl knows how to create trouble and, with her dad on the Council, she’s not afraid of anyone.

  Amy checks the time on her cuff. ‘It’s getting pretty late. I’m meant to meet my parents for dinner, and I really need to get started on that English assignment.’

  ‘I thought it wasn’t due until next week?’

  ‘It’s not,’ she shrugs.

  ‘You’re such a nerd,’ I laugh. ‘I should probably head off as well.’ I turn to the court and see Gemma and Cam have stopped chasing each other. Instead she stands there with her eyes riveted to him, her fingers twisting unconsciously through the ends of her hair. She looks completely infatuated, and he looks like he has it just as bad.

  ‘Gemma!’ I call out. ‘I’m going! You coming?’

  She looks back and forth, torn between Cam and me. I try not to appear too pleased by the situation. It’s nice to see him finally making a move.

  ‘You know what?’ I continue. ‘I’ve got some homework I need to do, I’ll just catch you in class tomorrow.’

  ‘Okay, see you in the morning,’ she responds happily, unable to keep the excitement from her voice. We wave goodbye to each other and I follow Amy out.