Naturals (Lost Souls)

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Naturals (Lost Souls) Page 18

by Tiffany Truitt


  James reached forward a hand and ran it through my hair. I closed my eyes, leaning into his touch. His hand slowly moved to my cheek, his thumb grazing my bottom lip, and my breath hitched. The waiting was slowly killing me. Painfully, blissfully slow.

  James moved forward and pressed his forehead against mine. “Are you sure?” he whispered. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “Shut up and kiss me,” I said.

  James’s lips lightly touched mine. I sighed, my heart fluttering. I pulled away slightly and looked up at him. “I’m not letting them take you away from me,” I promised.

  James brought his lips back down on mine. Our mouths moved together haltingly—each of us wanting to savor every sublime second of contact. My mouth parted, and his tongue grazed mine. I gasped. I could feel him smile under my lips, and I smiled back.

  I leaned back from him only to shift my position. I moved so I was sitting in his lap, facing him. His arms encircled my waist. “Who knew imprisonment could be so much fun?”

  I couldn’t help but giggle. “Maybe if we’re lucky, they’ll trap us in here together forever.”

  “Ahem.”

  I twisted around to find that we were no longer alone. “Why does this always happen to us?” I grumbled as I detangled myself from James. I hoped the darkness hid the blush that had crept up my face.

  I had to squint to see who had joined us. The only light in the room was a small lantern that Lockwood had left outside the cell doors when he came to deliver his news. The last person I expected to see now was McNair.

  “I’m not here to comment on your love life, but considering how people are feeling about this whole mess, I’d be careful who catches you two acting like that,” he replied, lazily pointing between James and me.

  I brushed a strand of hair out of my face. “According to Eric, our fate has already been sealed, so why not have a little fun?”

  McNair chuckled and shook his head. “You sure are ballsy. You do know I’m one of the leaders? Might want to check the sass.”

  I leaned back against the wall and crossed my arms. “So, did you vote in favor of killing an innocent man or not? ’Cause that’s really going to determine my level of sass.”

  “You really think if I voted in favor of the execution I would be here?” McNair asked.

  I shrugged.

  “Let me tell you something about most people. They can make tough decisions, vote to do something they know is wrong, as long as they don’t have to look in the eyes of the people they’re hurting. Not saying that you’re quite what I consider a person,” he said, looking at James. “No offense,” he added.

  “None taken,” James replied, his voice hard.

  “Besides insulting James and letting me know your voting record, what are you here for?” I asked.

  “I’m here to help you.”

  There were a million guesses I had for why McNair was there to see us. Offering to help our situation was not one of them.

  McNair and I had an interesting relationship at best. We hadn’t talked since my first day in the community. And while I would always be grateful for how he stood up for me in front of Al and the others, I didn’t think he thought much of me.

  And it certainly wasn’t because he was a secret supporter of the chosen ones.

  “How can you help us?” James asked.

  “By giving her this,” he said, thrusting forward a knife.

  “Wh-what do you want me to do with that?” I stammered.

  “Take it with you when you go before the leaders tomorrow,” he said, shoving the knife through the slits of the cell door.

  “Showing up with a weapon seems idiotic,” I said. “One, I’m certainly not going to use it. Two, even if I were, how do you think my knife would match their guns?”

  “I don’t intend for you to use it, girl. But they don’t need to know that,” he replied, shaking the knife at me.

  I still didn’t reach for it.

  “Then what is she supposed to do with it?” asked James.

  “Remember that conversation we had in the woods about you being important?” McNair said.

  “Yeah. I remember how you told me I wasn’t,” I replied.

  “I lied.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re very important. Or, at least what you can do is. They all might treat you like you aren’t, but you’re the most important person here. Sharon’s getting older, and you’re all they got.”

  I shook my head. “No. I won’t play that card. I won’t ever be like her.”

  “I know this. They know this. They just hope you’ll change your mind. They figure if they treat you like everyone else, make you think you’re free, you’ll eventually do what they want,” he explained.

  “Then why didn’t they give me any meds?” I countered, finding it hard to believe I had any power over these people.

  “Because they really didn’t have any to give. That’s the only reason they let this abnorm in. They’d do anything to save you. If it hadn’t been real serious, they would have killed him on the spot. Now stop being silly and take this knife.”

  I reached out a hand and grabbed the knife. It felt heavy in my hands. “I still don’t get how this will help me.”

  “I heard a real interesting story about your mom,” McNair said casually.

  My mother. How could anything about my mother help me through this?

  I stared down at the knife in my hands.

  And then I understood.

  I looked up at McNair. I couldn’t help but ask. “Why are you helping me?”

  He sighed. “What can I say? It’s about time some things around here changed. Just ’cause we’re better than the council doesn’t mean we’re perfect. Now I should leave. If anyone asks—and they will—you didn’t get that from me.”

  I nodded. “Thank you, McNair.”

  “Don’t thank me till it works,” he replied and headed back through the door.

  “What was he talking about? What are you planning on doing?” James asked, alarmed.

  “I’m going to bargain with them,” I answered.

  I was going to bargain with my very life.

  Chapter 23

  I didn’t bother trying to look presentable before I stood in front of the leaders of the community and most of its inhabitants. That was my first mistake. Apparently in this new land where life was a daily struggle, a public execution was something to get excited about. As I was ushered before the crowd gathered together in the dining hall, I began to notice how different they all looked. The dirt and pungent odor still remained, but the community members had put on their best clothes. Men replaced their sweat-stained shirts with crisp collared shirts and vests. The women wore a variety of earth tones, and their dresses were ironed and cleaned. Their hair was artfully pinned up. I, on the other hand, looked like I had spent the night in jail. And that was because I had.

  The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

  It wasn’t the first time I’d been through something like this. Back in the compound, I had stood up for Julia—Henry’s Julia—during a wrangling. Protocol dictated that all of the naturals were forced to gather together to watch one of their own publicly arrested and sentenced for a crime. Julia was held responsible for the deaths of the children at Templeton. The cords that kept them alive during their incubation period had been pulled.

  There was no trial for anyone summoned during a wrangling. No matter what Julia or anyone said, she would be put to death. I could only help lessen the pain that she went through in the process. With no one else volunteering, I announced to the entire room that I would take on some of Julia’s punishment. Instead of being slowly tortured to death, a ceremony the council called purification, Julia was decapitated.

  The event earned me my second slash mark and a permanent residency at Templeton. I would be forever grateful to fate that I’d never discover what receiving a third slash mark would entail.

  I had been t
errified every second of the wrangling. But standing before the community, I felt strong. I had leverage. It didn’t matter what I looked like—I didn’t have to impress them, I just had to outwit. A dangerous game of chicken.

  I didn’t expect my questioning to be so public, but there was still a lot I had to learn about the people I now shared a home with. The people I had come to know over the past few months—people I worked side by side with on the farm, played games with during the rain—were packed into the dining room to listen as I was drilled about my actions and about James.

  Maybe they didn’t call it a wrangling, but it sure did feel like judgment.

  The community leaders filed in, including Sharon, McNair, and Al. Eric and a few other men were stationed behind me with guns in tow. Did they think I was planning on running? If they wanted a fight, I was more than game. I was exactly where I wanted to be.

  I cleared my throat.

  I was ready.

  As the community leaders took their seats in a row of wooden chairs placed in front of me, the room fell quiet. These people didn’t need a council to be afraid of; they had their own gods pulling their strings in whichever way they so desired.

  “You understand why you’re here, girl?” Al asked me. I hated the way he said girl. It was the same way people had been saying the word my whole life. Like I should be ashamed of the fact that I was one.

  I nodded. “Yes. I understand. You all have a really distorted sense of justice. That’s why I’m here.”

  The crowd began to whisper and murmur. Al looked over the crowd and nodded like he was confirming some unspoken proclamation against me. I would have to tone down the attitude. I sighed and looked at the crowd. “I apologize. That was out of line.”

  “You’re free to speak your mind, Tess. We just ask that you do so in a respectful way,” Sharon said.

  Yes, I was free to speak my mind…as long as I didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings in the process. Why did freedom always come with stipulations?

  “Why don’t we get straight to it. Did you or did you not disarm Sharon and threaten Eric with a gun?” Al asked.

  “I did.”

  Al stopped short. It was clear he wasn’t expecting me to answer so honestly. He coughed into his fist, no doubt to give himself enough time to regroup before his next attack.

  “Can you tell us why you felt the need to do such a thing?” Sharon asked, her voice kind. It must have been obvious to anyone who listened that she was on my side. I still wasn’t sure why. If I made it out of this, I needed to have a talk with her.

  I nodded. “Yes, I can. I was trying to see James—”

  “You mean the abnorm,” Al interrupted.

  He was trying to get under my skin. I could see that. He wanted me to blow up, show everyone that he was right about me. Then he could kill James and send me packing. Or maybe he wanted me dead as well.

  “Yes, I meant the chosen one,” I corrected, praying that I could continue to keep my voice calm. “I heard that he was being detained for saving my life.”

  “He was being detained, as you say, because he shouldn’t be here. He is the fist of the council itself,” Al said.

  “If that were the case, why wait until now to show up? He could have followed us in the woods, learned the location of the community, and gone back to the council with the intel. He’s not like you think he is. In fact, he was demoted because he couldn’t comply with the council’s hatred of our people. He would have won a lot of favor selling us out, and this place would be swarming with chosen ones if he did,” I countered.

  “And are we so sure it won’t be?” the man with the longish dirty blond hair asked.

  “If the council makes its presence known here, I can swear on my very life that it won’t be James’s doing,” I assured them.

  “Your theory is a bit far-fetched, Al,” said Sharon. “The girl was deathly ill—no one can question that. Unless you are suggesting she was faking it. Which would mean that you’re accusing me of going along with it.”

  The crowd began to stir again.

  “He was there to save me. His intentions were honorable. I know what I did was out of line, but I was desperate—”

  “Yes. Desperate,” a woman with long gray hair said. “You didn’t get what you wanted, and you took matters into your own hands without any regard for the people who live here. Our rules exist to protect everyone, you included. Our parents and grandparents worked so hard to build this place, a sanctuary from the iron fist of the council, and it will only continue if we live by the code.”

  “The code. Freedom. Personal rights. I’ve heard these words repeated over and over again every day since I first arrived here. But words are just that,” I said. “You can use them, but that doesn’t mean they hold any meaning. I held a gun on one of your—our—people, and you’re allowing me the space to speak, to answer for my actions. But James comes here and saves a life, risking his own in the process, and you lock him away without the same opportunity.”

  I took a breath. “Where is your code? Your freedom? Your personal rights? Do they mean so little that you can pick and choose when you utilize them and when you don’t?” I continued.

  “He’s not human. He doesn’t get the same rights we do,” Al sneered.

  I lifted my chin, looking him straight in the eyes. “That sounds a lot like the council if you ask me. Have you been so long away from that world that you’ve forgotten what they say about us naturals? They think we’re degenerates. Worthless. A waste of God’s power. They blame us for every failure, every sin. They accuse us of crimes without hearing us speak. They don’t let us speak.”

  I could feel every eye on me. This was my moment. I searched for Lockwood in the crowd, and once I found him, I gave him the signal. He nodded and stood up.

  “I ask permission to retrieve something from Lockwood.”

  “You think we’re silly enough to fall for that?” Al said. “You think for one second we trust a girl who challenged one of our people with a gun?”

  I gritted my teeth. His act was nearly flawless. And it was an act. I hadn’t even been searched before entering the meeting room, which was good considering I was carrying the knife McNair gave me. Al didn’t think it was possible I could do any real damage. He just needed to make it seem like I could.

  I’d seen the emotion on his face before—he hated me. He hated me for the same reason the council did: because I didn’t know how to be submissive.

  McNair narrowed his eyes. “I don’t see what harm it could do.”

  “Unless you’re afraid of a book?” Lockwood called out from the crowd. Al rolled his eyes and motioned him forward. Lockwood walked to the center of the room and placed the paperback in my hand. When he had stopped in to see me that morning, I knew it was a long shot. But I’d thought back to the day I had implied he couldn’t read and he’d laughed at me. So I figured if anyone had books, it would be Lockwood. I was right, and even more amazing was the fact that he had the exact book I was looking for.

  “May I read something?” I asked.

  Al chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “I’m not sure what good a book will do, but go ahead.”

  The crowd was getting restless. I furiously flipped through the book to find the section I was looking for. My hands began to shake as the words whirled by my eyes. Once I finally found the passage, I took a deep breath before reading.

  William Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice.

  I read the speech that had so captivated James and me during the early days of our relationship. It was Shylock’s speech—a speech about difference.

  The response to my reading was mixed. A few people in the crowd nodded, and I detected a smile from McNair. But there were some who giggled, no doubt thinking Shakespeare’s language odd.

  But Al, who had taken on the responsibility of group spokesman, grinded his teeth. . “What was that?” he managed to get out, clearly annoyed.

  “It’s called literature,” replied
Sharon dryly.

  “A man named William Shakespeare wrote it hundreds of years ago,” I said. “People are funny. We always like to think we’re so much more advanced than what came before us, but we’re dealing with the same issues explored by this work.”

  “Jews and Christians? No one here cares how you worship God, or even if you worship Him at all,” Al countered.

  “That’s not the point I was trying to make. Besides, even the council lets you do that. This isn’t about religious persecution; this is about difference: no matter how much time passes it’s the one thing mankind will always fear,” I said.

  I had succeeded at winning back everyone’s attention.

  “Shylock doesn’t list the ways he’s similar to those around him because he wants them to realize the same blood runs under everyone’s skin, the one undeniable thing that connects us all. He’s exposing their fear. The naturals’ fear has never been how the chosen ones differ from us; it’s the ways they are the same. They live, breathe, even feel like us, so why are they chosen and we aren’t? That’s where our anger comes from. That’s why you’ll always hate them. You can’t stand for a single second that they were picked over you.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man with the long hair gritted out.

  “Yes, I do! The council has marked every single person in this room. We’re all deformed and broken in their eyes, and we hate them for it. And yet you’re about to do the same thing!”

  The calm I had fought so hard to hold onto was beginning to slip away.

  “I don’t see how you can continue to compare us with them. God created us, and they were born in labs. They don’t have souls!” Al yelled.

  I shook my head, looking around me wildly. “That’s not true. If you spent an hour with him, you would know that’s not true. He has a soul—I swear it. He has a more perfect soul than any natural I’ve ever met!”

  The crowd was in an uproar now. I had taken it too far, but what I said was the truth, and they needed to hear it. McNair slowly shook his head. My eyes burned with unshed tears, and my whole body was shaking.

 

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