Grey

by Kayley Barratt

  I lower the gun, struggling to get the words out as I glare into Duncan’s frowning eyes. “B-but that would mean t-that…”

  Duncan holds my gaze, his posture changing as he analyses the fear on my face. “I’m your father, Elizabeth.”

  Chapter 59

  “Is this some sick place for breeding?” I scream. “I don’t believe anything you say.”

  “You don’t have to believe it,” Duncan says as he stares down at Salome’s body. “We are all the product of one man’s vision to make us morally correct.”

  “You are not my father,” I cry, bringing the gun back up. “I am nothing like you.”

  “You should have been,” he says. “Amelia and Jonas did everything right. They isolated you, tortured you, you should have been ready to come back as one of us.”

  At his remark, Katherine glares at him.

  “I wanted you here with me,” he continues. “But Katherine—”

  “You were an abomination,” she shouts. “A product of sin. Born out of wedlock and born out of adultery. Two of the biggest sins. So, yes, I sent you away with that leach of a daughter of mine, who was also an abomination.”

  “You’re the one that had her out of wedlock,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “I’ve paid for my sins,” she says, straightening her body. “As has Duncan. We were shown the light.”

  “You’re delusional, both of you,” I say. “Why did you swap names?”

  “Because I wanted a piece of her with me,” Katherine says, the anger flashes out of her rounded eyes like bolts of lightning. “I wanted to take her name because I missed her. How messed up is that?”

  “Not very.”

  Katherine snorts, rolling her eyes. “Well, you wanted to know the truth. And there it is.”

  “You’re holding people prisoner here,” I say. “You bend their free will and you make them lose who they are, me included. You just killed someone because she avenged someone she cared about. Someone… I cared about. In what universe is that seeing the light?”

  I think of Mary’s little face—and her frozen, terrified eyes. She shouldn’t have died that way, she deserved better than to be whipped to her death. Salome deserved better than to be publicly executed. All these lives, all these people, they deserve better than to be trapped in this hell. I take a step closer, the gun firmly in my palm.

  “I don’t care about anything you say anymore,” I continue. “Have a nice trip to hell.”

  “Wait!” Duncan calls. “Don’t you want to see Ruth again? Don’t you want to see your mother again? Your real mother.”

  I hesitate, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “She’s still alive,” he says. “She’s been waiting for you.”

  This feels like a trick. I know in my head it must be a trick. I can’t remember anything about Ruth other than that she once saved me, but the more I allow myself to become less afraid of remembering, the more I succumb to the images that are coming slowly together.

  “Where is she?” I demand.

  “She’s safe,” he says. “She’s in group D.”

  “Where is group D?”

  “There’s so much she has to learn,” Katherine whispers. “She’s not ready to—”

  “She is,” Duncan snaps. “She’s ready.”

  I lower the gun again, frozen to the spot as they both just stare at me.

  “I told you, we’re not the bad guys,” Duncan assures me. “I would never do anything to hurt you. You have to believe that. Why else would I stop the guards from shooting you?”

  “Because you’re psychotic.”

  “Because I want you to see what we do here. And what we achieve. I want you to be a part of it. Killing us won’t change a thing. The things that are happening will still continue to happen. You’ll still be a member here.”

  My eyes widen just slightly. “This was your plan from the beginning. You wanted me like this. You didn’t drug me so I’d forget, it was a test.”

  “Yes,” Katherine says, clapping her hands. “Well done. Your intelligence succeeds you.”

  “What drug did you use on me?” I demand. “Was it experimental?”

  “I have someone that can answer that better than we can,” Duncan says, before he calls, “Elijah!” and grins to himself.

  I hear footsteps coming from the side of the chapel and I turn the gun in surprise as Elijah walks along the edge of the far wall. He doesn’t even look at me as he climbs the steps onto the stage and places himself beside Duncan. Elijah then turns his attention to me, his eyes are no longer bright and caring, they’re dark and twisted, plagued with a possession so deep that it fills the entire room with blackness.

  “No,” I whisper.

  “Elijah is one of our leading scientists in a classified program,” Duncan reveals, tapping Elijah on the shoulder. Elijah flinches for a moment and then stares at the hand on his shoulder. “And the creator of the X-Drone, a new kind of chemical designed to moderate a person’s personality and memories. Tell us, Elijah, was Elizabeth a worthy test subject?”

  “Yes,” Elijah responds, mechanically glaring at me as a tear rolls down my cheek. “She portrayed signs of short term memory loss along with long term that can be altered depending on circumstantial findings.”

  “Triggers,” Duncan translates, swaying gently. “The other subjects didn’t have the same reaction. They completely lost their minds. Fascinating.”

  “Taking into account, they haven’t been granted the same treatment,” Katherine reminds him and then she looks at Elijah. “Given by Elizabeth’s results, if they were returned into modern society, then they too would begin to remember again, no?”

  “I’m working on that,” Elijah says.

  “Work harder,” Katherine mutters.

  “What the hell is this place?” I whisper, trembling backwards.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Katherine answers, walking closer to her husband after becoming bored with pacing. “You said it yourself once, to Ruth, all those months ago.”

  “Cult,” Duncan says, the word rolls off his tongue as though it’s just a feeble name. “I’m afraid you were just a test to us, Elizabeth. We needed to see how a subject would respond when put back into general population and when—” He glances at Elijah. “The subject is reminded of the truth by someone they trust and how they’d react. The experiment was not due to finish yet, but you began healing quicker than we anticipated. And damage control must be carried out effectively to prevent exposure.”

  “You proved something useful though,” Katherine says. “That the subjects should never be returned into groups. Our goal is to erase their free will, not suppress it. We will continue to perfect the experiment until our goal is reached.”

  “What does that mean?” I say. “For me?”

  “As my daughter, you can be exempt from group D and can rise through the rankings until you, one day, inherit the academy for yourself,” Duncan says. “After completing your assessment, of course.”

  “You want me to take over you?” I demand.

  “He wants you to understand,” Katherine answers for him, her face falling angry at his proposal. “The ones that we take, that we remove from the groups, they are not innocent. They weren’t placed at Cross Academy because they kissed a boy or smoked a few cigarettes. They committed crimes. Evil crimes. They were sent to us for punishment, for justice. Are we evil for eradicating a greater evil?”

  “So, you use these people for your experiments?” I say. “What about the ones that are suffering every day and haven’t done a damn thing wrong? What about the children that are being forced to work in forty-degree heat without water? What about the lives you’ve ruined and the beautiful souls you’ve brainwashed by offering them nothing!”

  “Occupational hazard,” Duncan responds, grinning. “Most of the members were born in the academy and were merely returned home. Like you. We give them the chance to know where they came from and who they are. Why would you want to go
against that?”

  “I thought you were a good person, Elizabeth?” Katherine says. “Preventing others the chance from discovering their true DNA is cruel. We all deserve to know where we come from. It’s selfish of you to try and refute that right.”

  I shake my head, attempting to drop the words out of my ears. I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know what to do. The only thing I know is that holding this gun feels right and I use that feeling of power to guide me.

  “I will never be a part of what you do here,” I say, staring at the gun that I hold against my thigh. “You can change a thousand minds, but you can’t change mine.”

  “You’re never getting out of here, Elizabeth,” Katherine says. “Your life is already written, it belongs to us. So, you might as well just drop the gun and accept it.”

  My fingers tap against the gun. There’s so much going on inside my head, there’s so much information that I’m fighting to stop from breaking me. The truth about my parents, Ruth, Elijah, the truth about this place—that something strange and mysterious was going on behind the scenes. That they’re performing experiments on people they believe to be evil, that they are fighting to erase free will that they deem to be the cause of it.

  There’s so much. Too much. It’s tearing me apart.

  But then, I remember Nathan. This boy, this person that I hardly know and yet, I love completely. I don’t know where he is in the world, I don’t know if he still remembers me, or if he’s given up on me. I’m not sure what it even means to give up, except that I can’t.

  My eyes fall onto Salome one last time and her last words to me come crashing back again, reminding me of the one thing that matters, the one thing that keeps the presence of hope fluttering in my chest like a bird; freedom.

  Just like Mary said to me in her final moments on this Earth that I have dreamed about, I am strong. I believe it, I have to, I have to keep believing it to give me the courage to do what I’m going to do next. This place has taken everything from me and it’s time to fight to get it back.

  I don’t know what fate awaits me for the consequences of what I am about to do. I may die. I may go to hell. I may never see the light of day again. I may never fully regain my memories—or myself—again, but I choose to allow that to be my reality.

  I don’t need to remember to know that I’ve been hurt. That I’ve been burned. Tortured. Scarred. Left behind again and again for someone else’s rise. Perhaps, the universe merely viewed me as a stepping stone, never truly stable enough to adapt to my own will.

  There is no cure to being a stepping stone. There is no adaption, nor evolution. I will always be their toy, their piece of forgotten rubble. I am a shade, I am grey.

  I will be grey no more.

  “This is silly now,” Katherine shouts. “We all know you’re not going to use it, so just drop it, and we can take you to Ruth and everything will make sense.”

  With Mary and Salome’s faces inspiring me to push forwards, I raise the gun back up to my eye level.

  And I shoot.

  Epilogue

  Nathan

  Two Months Later

  I throw the remainder of my belongings into my suitcase, zipping it closed with one quick flick of the wrist. Today is the day, the next chapter of my life, the first day of a new beginning.

  College.

  After celebrating my birthday yesterday, surrounded by my friends and family, being forced to smile and laugh, I’m ready to get away from this town. It isn’t without difficulty; there are many things I’ll miss, many memories I’m finding hard to let go.

  Alcohol can only help for so long until you have to realise you sober up at the end of it and then all you’re left with is a hole of misery.

  I put on my jacket and I grab my suitcase, moving towards the doorway. I turn, glancing around my room for one final time while unleashing a giant breath of something euphoric. First to the window ledge where we sat on, listening to music between us while glancing up at the stars, the one of many occasions when she would sneak out of her house to be with me.

  Then to the black, wool carpet; where we would sit with hot mugs of hot chocolate and she’d read me pages from her favourite books, while I held in a laugh at the voices she’d make. She’d look so beautiful—this girl with dark, wavy curls and sharp, bright brown eyes. Wearing her shorts and her plain black shirt, that showed off her long, shiny legs; that would occasionally reach out and kick me. She would be any guy’s dream to have, and whoever he is, should count himself lucky each and every day.

  I did.

  I close the door and I pull up the suitcase as I tread carefully down the staircase. My family are waiting for me, standing in the archway to the lounge like goons with big grins on their faces.

  “My boy, off to college,” my mother despairs, blowing her nose. “Just give me a moment to look at you.”

  I raise an eyebrow as she cocks her head sideways at me and I turn my attention to my father. “Please don’t be as awkward as her.”

  My father laughs, crossing his thick, muscular arms. “You’re her baby, she’s gonna want to look at you.”

  “Yeah, but it’s freaking me out.”

  “Oh, come here!” my mother exclaims, opening her arms to jump me. I freeze as she wraps herself around me, squeezing the life out of me. “I don’t care if you don’t like hugs, I’m giving you a hug.”

  She, eventually, lets me go and I mould back together; then I begin looking for my brother, who I thought would be here.

  “He’s still asleep,” Mum says. “Night shift, but he told me to tell you goodbye and that he’ll be up sometime in the next couple of weeks to kick your… bottom.”

  Dad laughs. “Ass,” he says. “She means ass.”

  “Yeah,” I laugh. “Okay. Well, I better get going, I need to be there for the enrolment.”

  “I’m so proud of you,” Mum whispers, almost on the edge of tears.

  “It’s college,” I say. “I haven’t won an Emmy. If I graduate, then you can say you’re proud.”

  “Deal!” she shrieks, clasping her hands together.

  I lift my suitcase as I walk towards the door, I step out into the cool air of autumn and I take out my car keys, unlocking the trunk. I got a reprieve on my driving ban; I attended an alcohol awareness course and got four months taken off it, meaning that I can officially drive again, not that it stopped me before.

  I throw the suitcase into the trunk and I slam it closed, clicking my tongue across my mouth as I walk to the driver’s side.

  “Call us when you get there!” my mother shouts from the doorway. “Be careful! No drinking!”

  “She means no drinking and driving, son!” my dad shouts. “Drink all you want.”

  I laugh as my mother gives him a death glare and playfully slaps his shoulder. I fall into the driver’s seat and I close the door, turning the key in the ignition. As the car roars to life, I adjust my rear-view mirror to glimpse my parents one last time. They’re stood in the doorway, waving, with sad looks on their faces.

  Going to college has been their dream for me since I was a child. They never pressured me, but they’ve waited many years to be standing in that position. Proud.

  But, I’m not going to college.

  I lift the clutch, turning the car off the driveway as the sun shines directly into my eyes. I squint as I merge with the traffic along the street and my hand eagerly searches the glove compartment. I feel it, pulling it out with a twisted smile on my face.

  I retrieved the address from the cop last week, after finally making up my mind. I couldn’t lose her, I can’t lose her.

  I don’t know what this place is, or how it’s run, or how I’m going to get into it, but sitting around at home and wondering isn’t going to get me anywhere.

  Beth is at this place because of me, because of a reckless choice that I made at that stupid party. Because I was stupid enough to trust someone that I shouldn’t have. It’s almost as if the entire thing was stag
ed. The car, the party, the police turning up. I’ve been doing some of my own digging and the more I learned, the more the truth scared me to death. It was still my fault, but the events that occurred that night were all about her.

  Nothing happened that night by coincidence. Someone wanted her there, someone wanted me to get arrested, to get me out of the way. I was set up, she was set up. There’s something big going on and I won’t rest until I figure out what it is.

  I’m going to find Beth and I’m going to bring her home.

  TO BE CONTINUED…