Escape from Eden (Original Series book 2)

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Escape from Eden (Original Series book 2) Page 16

by Rachel McClellan


  Mr. Silent jerks my head back by my hair.

  "Answer me," Thomas demands.

  I don't know how I manage it, but all of a sudden words are falling out of my mouth. Maybe it's fear of more pain that causes my sudden strength. "I overheard Colt telling someone about a place in the Northern Mountains and an old highway that was going to get us up there. He didn't say the word Eden, but I got the impression that our final destination was somewhere up there. Please don't hurt me again. That's all I know.”

  "Why didn't you find Colt and the others?" she asks.

  I frown. "What?"

  Her lips purse together. "After you ran away from the fight, why didn't you go straight to Colt?"

  Grimacing, I try to think past my pain. I need a good answer, one that will put me in her good graces. I need to let my instincts take over like I did when I first met Ebony. I think of what I know. She likes to be flattered. She likes to feel like her brain is the biggest and brightest.

  I lift my chin a little, knowing exactly the direction I need to take this conversation. "After I found out that Colt turned in my father, I didn't want anything to do with him. We had a good life in Maine, but he ruined it. I would've left Colt sooner, but they had me in the city, and I didn't know how to get away. And then there was that Jenna girl. She almost got me killed twice. I figured I was safer without them so as soon as I had a chance, I slipped away."

  "But what about your brother?" Thomas asks. "Where did he go?"

  "The last time I saw him, he was running off with Jenna. I haven't heard anything since." I grimace at the pain still gnawing at me.

  Ebony snorts. "You want me to believe that you abandoned your brother to people you don't trust?"

  I swallow hard. She thinks she has me. I'm going to have to say something that goes against everything in my heart. My stomach twists in revolt and a burning pain sears my chest, but I ignore it. I have to.

  Looking her straight in the eyes, I say, "You met my brother, you know his limitations. If you were in my shoes, would you have tried to find him?"

  The chasm in my mind widens, but I fight its pull, afraid I'll lose myself altogether. It would be so easy to just tell them everything, the real truth, and let them take me to Enfield to be with my mother. The hurt would stop.

  But a new pain would replace it, I remind myself. I would miss Max and Colt. And all of my other friends. I would have to live with my betrayal.

  Thomas looks down at his pad and then back at Ebony and nods his head a fraction of an inch.

  "Did they take your brother to Eden?" Ebony asks.

  I cling to the part of me who wants to save the people I love and continue my lies. "I don't know, and I've no idea where to find Colt or the others to ask. It's not like I really tried though."

  My voice is stronger now, making the lies more believable. If it weren't for the T-vax, I'd surely be dead by now.

  "Explain," Thomas says.

  "Honestly," I say, "they didn't seem to know what they were doing. They weren't organized and made one mistake after another. It's taken me months to realize that I'm safer with you guys than I am out on my own or working with HOPE."

  Ebony takes her first step toward me. "Do you mean what you say?"

  "Of course I do." I ground my teeth together in both pain and shame. I really hope Colt and the others aren't watching me right now. Sweat drips from my brow to the gown I'm dressed in.

  The pressure in the air changes, making the room feel smaller than it is. If I wasn't in an intense amount of pain right now, I probably would have a massive panic attack from being in this place strapped to a chair, but my phobia has been pushed to the side by more important things.

  Ebony takes another step. "If you want help, you will need to do something for me."

  I have to take a breath before I say, "Anything."

  The corners of her mouth turn up slightly. "The city is under attack right now by terrorists claiming to be with HOPE, specifically against buildings we own, but we can't seem to find the criminals because Primes are hiding them. Somehow, they've been convinced that these terrorists are good, that HOPE is good, so I want you to tell them otherwise. I want you to say what you just told me, but to the whole country."

  Despite the anti-nausea medicine they gave me, my stomach spins a direction it wasn't meant to. I lean to the side and vomit clear bile. Why is Colt already trying to distract the Institute so I can escape? He's barely given me any time to get Ebony's DNA unless… He and the others don't think I'm strong enough to complete the mission. This leaves a sour taste in my mouth worse than the vomit I just upchucked.

  "What is this?" Thomas asks, his nose wrinkling. "I thought you guys gave her something."

  Ebony steps back until she's pressed against the wall. "I want this mess cleaned up right now!"

  Thomas stands slowly, glaring and snarling at me, before he exists the room.

  "I'm sorry," I say, acutely aware of Mr. Silent behind me. "I didn't mean to. I'm just so sick."

  Ebony inches her way to the door. "Well if you do exactly as we say, we will make you all better and take you to a place where you will have food and shelter. Not only that, but you will be with your own kind."

  My head snaps up.

  She keeps speaking. "We used to advertise that we had a place for Originals, somewhere they could be safe and protected, but we stopped doing that about a decade ago because it became too crowded. Since then, however, the population at Enfield has declined, giving us room for only the best Originals, the ones who truly value what we're trying to accomplish."

  My stomach lurches again at the thought of the population declining. What were they doing to Originals there? Maybe my mother isn’t alive.

  Ebony sneers. "I think you especially will find this place appealing."

  "Why is that?"

  She chuckles. "I don't want to spoil the surprise, but this place holds something dear to you."

  My gaze lowers to the floor, a spark of hope igniting inside me. My mother must be alive, but I can't let Ebony know that I know.

  "Is that where my father is?" I ask, lying as innocently as I can.

  The corners of her mouth turns up as if she knows a big secret. "Do we have a deal? You must tell everyone about who you are, how we are helping you, and how we want to help all Originals."

  "You'll make me better?" I ask, my voice soft.

  "I swear it."

  "Then I'll do it."

  The door opens. Two small women scurry in holding cleaning supplies. Ebony takes a step away from them. While they clean up my mess, Ebony huffs. "Your father. He started this whole mess and now he's turned parts of the city against us. They just don't understand how much we are trying to help Primes. Did you know we are close to finding a cure?"

  "You've been saying that for a long time." The words escape my mouth before I can stop them.

  "Slap her," Ebony says to Mr. Silent.

  My head jerks forward so hard I think I might have whiplash. The two women cleaning up the floor jump, but don't look at me or anyone else.

  "Forgive me," I gasp. "I didn't mean to complain."

  Thomas appears in the doorway. To Ebony, he asks, "What would you like to do next?"

  She doesn't look at him when she says, "Get the media room ready. I want her there in the next hour, refreshed and looking fabulous. Our guest is going to announce to the world just how kind and generous we really are."

  26

  Thomas injects a clear fluid into my arm. In a matter of seconds, all the pain I was feeling goes away and a surge of energy pulses through my body.

  "I'm going to release these restraints," he says. "Are you going to behave?"

  I nod. "Thank you for whatever you gave me."

  These are challenging words to say to someone who just tortured me. Because of him, I may never be the same.

  "It's only temporary," he says. "Follow me."

  I rise slowly to my feet, expecting to be dizzy, but I'm not. The back o
f my gown sticks to me, and I'm afraid to find out why.

  "Quit dirtying everything up," Ebony snaps.

  I look down. Blood drips from my missing fingernail and onto the floor. Thomas tosses me a small cloth, which I press to my finger. It no longer hurts, but the sight of it makes me grimace. I can still remember the pain and that hurts more than anything else. It's going to leave a nasty scar on my mind.

  I follow Thomas out, and my pulse races as I draw near to Ebony. This might be my only chance. If I'm quick and jump, I should be able to grab her hair. But one thing stops me.

  Pain.

  She will have me beaten senseless, I have no doubt, and I'm so afraid of hurting again. I lower my head, ashamed, as I pass by. I am a coward.

  Thomas leads me down a long hallway. It is mostly empty except for the sound of two deep voices speaking just up ahead. As we pass, I peer into a small room. Two male Speeders are saying something about an explosion on the west side of town. By the tone of their voices, they sound scared. The whole city probably is. It's been decades since anyone attacked on a large scale.

  Thomas nudges me forward, making me stumble. He takes me to the elevator and up to the next floor where he tells a pretty lady dressed in white to get me ready for media. The next thirty minutes are a blur. I'm brushed, plucked, groomed, smoothed, creamed, and dressed until I barely look like myself. In fact, I look more like my mother then I ever have, almost as if they’re copying a picture of her. Regardless, I definitely don't look like I was just tortured. My hair has been curled and hangs loosely to my breasts. They've applied makeup on my face covering my few freckles. On the outside, they've covered all evidence of my suffering, but the inside of me bleeds from a wound raw and black.

  Even though only thirty minutes have passed, I've grown weak again until I'm slumping into my chair. The Kiss is stronger than the drug they gave me, but at least there is no pain.

  "She's ready," a petite woman with blue hair says to someone behind me.

  "Come this way," Ebony's voice says.

  I push up on the armrests, but my legs give out. I slump to the floor, a pathetic sob threatening to overwhelm me.

  "Get her something," Ebony demands.

  Thomas arrives a moment later and presses a syringe into my thigh. Like before, the effects are immediate, and I come to my feet. Ebony leaves me behind. Only when Thomas shoves me do I go after her.

  The media room isn't what I expect. It has a floral sofa pressed against a light yellow-colored wall. In the corner, a soft light fills the room with warmth that can't be found elsewhere in the building, or anywhere else I've been for a long time. A few magazines are scattered along the top of a coffee table in front of the sofa, and to my left is an ornate wooden mantel surrounding a tall fireplace. A fire burns low inside. I can't tell if the flames are real or not.

  "Have a seat," Ebony says. She slips by me, close but not close enough, should I have found a moment of bravery. She stops at the back of the room and leans against the wall.

  I walk around the small, narrow table and sit on the sofa. My eyes pause on the title of the nearest magazine's cover article: Finding the Courage Within. I shift my gaze away from it, swallowing hard.

  A woman, slender and tall, but not freakishly tall like the Techheads, glides into the room. Her movements are graceful and make me think of a dancer. She smiles at me coolly and lowers herself into a plush chair next to me. Her eyes are a light lilac color made brighter by her long platinum blond hair. She is a Blithe, which aren't typically dangerous Primes in the obvious way, but I can't see what's in her heart. She is here to interview me, which doesn't make me trust her.

  "My name is Diamond," she says. When I don't answer, she leans forward and pats me on the knee. "Don't be nervous. Just sit back, relax and answer my questions the best you can. Try not to look at the cameras."

  I lift my gaze and for the first time notice several small black cameras barely the size of a quarter placed strategically throughout the room. One is pressed into the wall across from me. I stare into it. Can Colt see me now? Is he disappointed that I haven't achieved my goal yet? I lower my head.

  The woman giggles suddenly. It might've been a pleasant sound, but it's laced with ice. I look up at her questioningly.

  She lifts her fingers to cover her smiling mouth. "I apologize. I don't mean to laugh, but I never thought I would be interviewing an Original. I may as well be interviewing a dinosaur!" She laughs again.

  I decide that I don't like her. Hate her, in fact. It's a strong and sudden emotion that swells inside me, and I gasp for air. I glance at Ebony, leaning against the wall behind her. I hate her too, and I hate this place.

  Diamond presses a few buttons on the silver pad in her hands, then looks up and smiles even wider. "I think we are all ready. Can I get you anything before we begin?"

  I shake my head.

  "Are you sure this will be live?" Ebony asks.

  "Absolutely. Soon as I say go, the whole country will hear us."

  Ebony's eyes flash to mine. "Remember our arrangement. All you have to do is tell everyone how much we've helped you and denounce HOPE, and then you may live out your life in peace. I will have you taken somewhere where you will never be cold or hungry again."

  "I remember," I say, pain from the black box still fresh on my mind. I never want to feel that searing heat again.

  "Let's get started, shall we?" Diamond asks. She presses on the pad and then stuffs it beside her, out of view. She mouths the word, "one, two, three" and suddenly her whole face lights up as she stares into a camera across from her.

  "Good evening! I apologize for interrupting your regularly scheduled program, but in the light of recent attacks against Boston, the Institute has asked me to make a special announcement. We live in scary times right now. Many of you living in Boston probably heard the explosions in the city today, and on a Saturday no less, our busiest shopping day."

  Saturday? My heart skips a beat. They kept me asleep for three days? No wonder Colt is exploding things. He probably thinks I won't be able to get out without some sort of distraction, but what he doesn't realize is that I may be too afraid to try and escape now.

  Diamond keeps talking. "These terrorists, and make no mistake about it, they are terrorists, have been spreading lies accusing the Institute of harming Originals for their own personal gain. They claim the Institute isn't working on a cure, and is instead lying to the public, but I want to reassure everyone that the Institute is doing all that it can to protect our Original population. We give them upscale housing, safety, food, all that we have, and in return, they provide us with access to their precious DNA. It's a mutually beneficial relationship."

  She takes a breath. "With me today is an Original who would like to attest to this fact, and I think many Primes would love to hear what she has to say. She can shed light on much of what's been going on and expose the truth against a secret organization that’s trying to attract sympathizers. I applaud her for standing up to these terrorists, a frightening thing for an Original, no doubt."

  She turns to me all smiles, as if nothing is wrong and I hadn't just been tortured. "Could you please tell us your name?"

  I straighten in my spot on the sofa, unsure where to look. When Diamond doesn't give me any direction, I focus on the camera across from me.

  "My name is Sage Radkey."

  "A little bit louder, please?"

  I clear my throat, trying to find strength when I feel none. "My name is Sage Radkey."

  "Could you please tell us who your father is?"

  "William Radkey."

  "And what exactly does he do?" she prods, her voice and body language urging me to give more.

  "He's a brilliant scientist who has been trying to find a cure for the Kiss."

  She snorts. "Well that's up for debate. The Institute scientists have done far more than Mr. Radkey in their quest for a cure."

  I look over her shoulder at Ebony. Her lips are tight with brows drawn togeth
er. I've said the wrong thing. I'm going to need to be more careful going forward.

  "Some say your father is the cause of this rebellion. Is that true?" Diamond asks.

  I nod my head a little. "I don't think he intended it to happen. He just wanted to help people."

  "But you know the Institute is the only one that can develop a cure, right? They are the only ones with the intelligence to solve such a complex problem."

  "I realize that now," I say, the lie simmering against my tongue. "My father meant well, but his actions have caused a lot of violence against an otherwise peaceful people."

  "Let's talk about the violence," Diamond says and uncrosses her legs only to re-cross them on the other side. "What do you think of the recent attacks against Boston?"

  "Honestly, I'm not sure what's going on. I've been ill for some time."

  "Let me fill you in," she says. "During the last forty-eight hours, there have been ten explosions across the city with dozens of people injured and several killed. The Guard can't keep up with the amount of violence. The terrorist organization HOPE has claimed responsibility, and they are declaring war on any Primes who don't come over to their side. Lots of people are going to die."

  I shake my head in disbelief. Colt would never demand that people fight for him, and he definitely wouldn't hurt innocent people. Diamond must be lying, not only to me, but to the public too.

  She points a finger at me. "Including Originals. Doesn't that go against the message HOPE was founded on? Protecting Originals? And here they are trying to destroy the one group who can actually help them—the Institute."

  She leans forward, her elbow resting on her crossed legs. "So tell us, as an Original, has the Institute harmed you? Have they not treated you with the utmost respect?"

  My gaze shifts to Ebony. Her eyes are boring into me, threatening to break me if I don't speak. The lie fills my mouth but won't come out.

  Diamond senses my hesitation and quickly asks, "You mentioned you've been sick, is that correct?"

  I nod.

  "Who is taking care of you?"

  Clearing my throat, I say, "The Institute."

 

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