My thoughts tangled together. The words sounded genuine, but . . . “If I don’t know you, how can I trust you?”
At the question, his expression fell even more. His fist now rubbed at his chest. No. At his heart. He was miserable and in pain. A small tug of sympathy urged me to comfort him, but I pushed the feeling down. He might know my name, but he was still a stranger who caused me endless confusion every time I looked at him.
He cleared his throat and the pain disappeared, replaced with determination. “You do know me—at least, you did. Not well, though. Not the way you or I wanted. Things were, are complicated, but I’ll tell you everything I wasn’t able to for the last four months. Please, Lune, just give me a chance.”
A chance.
Did I give chances?
It was his voice that made my decision easy. The deep rolling timbre continued to comfort me for some odd reason. It was like a possession I valued but had forgotten about, yet still unconsciously searched for. The strangeness of it all should have scared me but didn’t.
I awkwardly stuck out my hand as if greeting him for the very first time. “Hi, I’m Lune.”
He stared at my outstretched fingers, then my face. Understanding dawned. A smile slowly widened his mouth as he took my hand and gave it a warm shake. “Brendan Bearon.”
I smiled back.
All too soon, I discovered why having a guard was necessary.
No one approached, but eyes tracked my every movement. Not in a curious, friendly way either. Maybe I should feel nervous, even afraid, but how could I when the most fearsome person I knew was walking beside me? Brendan kept peeking at my reaction, but when I pretended to ignore him in favor of viewing our surroundings, we continued in silence.
There wasn’t much to see. Curved, pale stone hallways bearing simple, round light fixtures every handful of feet. Slate blue doors identical to mine. The rooms were probably exactly alike too. Something about this place felt off though, as if missing an important element. We turned a corner and I sucked in a quiet gasp, unconsciously slowing.
Straight out in front of me was air. Across the expanse, people strolled along the same waist-high metal and glass railing my hands had reflexively grabbed. There were actually several railings outlining the impossibly large man-made circle, all on different levels. I counted fifteen total.
As my eyes traveled upward, I expected to see blue for some reason, but found endless pinpricks of light instead, so intense I had to look away. Blinking to clear my vision, I realized now what was missing. Windows. The sky and sun. The outdoors. Instinctually, I knew about these things without having concrete memories of them.
Then I looked down and had to bite my lip as a grin threatened to split my face in two. Far below was a cluster of trees at the circle’s center. Their color matched my shirt. But what sent a rush of tingles up my arms and legs was the deadly drop. I was so high off the ground. At least ten floors were stacked beneath this one.
I leaned over the railing. My braid slid over my shoulder as I took in the circular bottom with its bustling activity. Tiny people of all colors wove this way and that, like a chaotically coordinated dance I didn’t know the steps to. From up here, their voices had dulled to a steady drone. Some sat at little red tables while others formed long lines to what looked like breakfast.
For many minutes, I was lost in the foreign sights and wonders of this place. I was pretty sure this was my first time seeing it. An urge to throw my arms wide and pretend I was flying stole over me. I laughed at the ridiculous feeling.
With a start, I remembered that I wasn’t alone and quickly straightened. When I glanced at my guard, I found him watching me with a soft smile. My chest tightened. Before fear or who-knew-what emotion could take hold of me, he cleared his throat and casually placed both elbows on the railing.
As he peered below, Brendan said, “This is the Communal Circle, or ‘The Circle’ as most of us call it. The residents come here three times a day for meals. Community announcements are held here, too. Every person over the age of ten is given a job. Each position is valued, so we’re all given the same rations and accommodations. We are all equal.”
I immediately liked this place now that I knew how things worked. But . . . “Where is here exactly?”
“Blue Ridge Sector. A safe haven, I guess you could say. Welcome to my home.”
That word again. Home. It didn’t feel so empty this time.
“What’s wrong?”
“Huh?” I side-eyed him as he studied my profile.
“Your nose did that flaring thing it does when you dislike something.”
My jaw slackened. What the what now? Before I could stop them, my fingers touched my nose. Brendan clamped his lips together to hide a grin. How well did he know me anyway? “Uh, I think it’s the name. Did I used to dislike the color blue?”
“You don’t like blue,” he corrected. “You once told me it reminds you of . . . Wait, you remember?” His eyes did that lighting up thing again.
I forced myself to hold his gaze even as my pulse quickened. “I sometimes have likes and dislikes when things are mentioned, a feeling or emotion. That’s about it though. No memories.”
His expression fell. I was starting to hate that look. I had the craziest urge to tell a joke so that unmistakable pain would go away, but nothing came to mind. I must not have been a funny person before my memories disappeared.
“What’s it called again?” I eyed the silver box suspiciously. He wanted me to get inside while it did what?
“An elevator,” Brendan repeated, this time with a touch of laughter. “I promise it won’t hurt you. I’ll hold your hand if you want though.”
My face and neck grew uncomfortably warm at the bold invitation. But it was the way he’d said the words, as if to challenge me, that captured my attention. My spine snapped straight and I marched inside the box, then whirled to face him. His brows ticked upward, nearly disappearing into his hair. I didn’t know who was more surprised: him or me. Did I like challenges?
He smirked knowingly and strolled in to stand beside me. With a press of a button, the door slid closed, sealing us inside. It was just him, me, and a tiny box that seemed smaller than it’d been a moment ago. Out of nowhere, a cold sweat beaded my forehead. My stomach roiled.
The walls. They were closing in. Suffocating me.
I felt . . .
Trapped.
As I thought the word, deep-seated panic set in. My voice shook as I said, “Brendan, I don’t think I like—”
The ground jolted, throwing me off balance. With a surprised gasp, I fell backward. Before I could hit the wall, Brendan’s arms surrounded me and pulled me close. His hand gently pressed my cheek to his shoulder. And instead of shoving him away like they did earlier, my hands latched onto his shirtfront as if he was the key to unlocking this moving nightmare.
“I’ve got you, little bird,” he murmured against my hair. I could feel his warm breath, smell him as my nose brushed his neck. Sunshine. He smelled of sunshine with hints of leather and pine. The combination . . . I almost liked it. My stomach flipped uncontrollably.
No, not again, I was tempted to groan aloud. What was happening to me?
I flattened my palms against his chest and broke his hold on me, then grabbed a railing along the back wall. My fingers squeezed the metal as I tried to rid myself of his touch, his scent, his very presence that made me equal parts confused and exhilarated. The elevator ride lasted an eternity as I fought to slow my rapid pulse. I refused to look at him. He was watching me though. I could feel it. I could feel him everywhere. And if I had to be trapped in this box with him for one more second, I was going to—
Ding.
The door slid open.
My legs trembled as I lurched forward and deeply inhaled unboxed air that wasn’t stuffed with tension. A second later, Brendan strode past, but not before I heard him mutter, “Thank heaven and earth.”
We were on the very top floor now. I only c
aught a quick glimpse of The Circle fifteen floors below as we moved at a much faster clip than earlier. My ankle started to complain and I slowed, not knowing if I should call out to my “guard” or let him walk off whatever was bothering him. Because something definitely was. I was savvy enough to realize that something was me, but what could I do?
I didn’t remember him even if my body did. My body wasn’t allowed to call the shots, though. It was way too impulsive and needed to be kept on a short leash.
Brendan stopped and waited for me in front of a door with a sign above that said . . . I frowned as my mind stumbled over the letters. D-O-C-T-O-R. Okay, I understood that part at least. Why couldn’t I read well?
Embarrassment heated my face and I studiously avoided his gaze when I caught up with him. I focused on a white eagle stamped on the door that held arrows in one claw and a branch in the other. Words circled the symbol, ones that would take me too long to read, so I didn’t try. I snuck a quick peek at Brendan. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one avoiding eye contact. He stared at the stone floor as he said, “Dr. Moore can be blunt. He means well, but mincing words isn’t in his genetic makeup. He wants to help you though, okay? You have nothing to be afraid of.”
I nodded. Blunt was preferable to Dr. Stacey’s careful, placating words. I desperately needed to know why I had no memories. Brendan knocked on the door, and when a male voice answered from the other side, he motioned for me to enter first. I didn’t know what to expect of the supposed leader of this place, but the man bustling around his desk to greet us wasn’t it.
“Miss Avery! I’m so glad to see you awake and looking well. We were worried there for a moment.” He stuck out his hand and I received a quick shake before he moved to clap my guard on the shoulder. “Any problems?”
Brendan shook his head, “No, sir.”
Their exchange continued, but I was too busy studying Dr. Moore to pay attention. Not wanting to get caught staring, I pretended to inspect his office which contained a simple desk with the same eagle symbol on it, a few chairs, and three solid walls of books. The books piqued my curiosity, but their owner even more so.
The first thing I noticed was how incredibly short he was. Standing next to my guard, he looked like a child, except his face was anything but. Thick glasses rested on a balloon-shaped nose, enlarging light gray eyes that didn’t linger on one spot longer than a second or two. His cheeks were ruddy, practically red next to a thick shock of white hair—“shock” because it looked like he’d stuck his finger in a light socket.
“Sit sit sit, Miss Avery,” he said, waving at the metal chairs stacked against the right bookcase. “Your leg must be tired. You went through quite the ordeal out there on the mountain.”
Mountain? Brendan grabbed two chairs and held one for me as I sat. Before I could murmur a thanks, Dr. Moore was already speaking again, rapidly, as he took a seat behind his scuffed walnut desk.
“It’s unfortunate you lost your memories, and I’m sure you have many questions, but I wanted to assure you that we’re doing everything we can to create an antidote. When Dr. Stacey removed Bren’s chip, there were no ill side effects, so it came as quite a surprise when yours contained a memory-erasing serum set to release at the implant’s removal. I guess your adoptive father didn’t want you revealing all the family secrets.”
He chuckled, and I gave him a weak smile, not understanding the humor. In fact, I had no clue what he was talking about. I was adopted?
Brendan shifted in his chair. “Maybe you should start at the beginning. The very beginning. She wasn’t taught much history while living in the city.”
Dr. Moore folded his hands in front of him and I braced myself to be bombarded with a heap of confusing information. “Quite right, quite right. You’ve heard of the Silent War? Well, I suppose you wouldn’t remember even if you had. Anyway, everything was quite different before the war one hundred years ago—The Tech Age, they called it. People could access the entire world with the press of a button and travel the globe in a matter of days. For the first time, unity and inclusivity were within reach.
“But that much power comes at a price. Bad people became more knowledgeable, dangerous weapons became more attainable. Soon, conspiracy theories and fear-mongering infiltrated the news system of their time, whispers of war at the helm. People formed opinions before knowing the full truth, spreading the lies to anyone who would listen. They turned on each other, took sides—always hatred over respect. Dark outshone light, hope in humanity was lost. Fear ruled the world. And fear has a tendency to turn into violence, wouldn’t you agree?”
I blinked, belatedly realizing he’d asked me a question. “Um, I—I don’t know.”
He glanced at Brendan, saying, “I suppose it’s a good thing she can’t remember him.” But Brendan was watching me—I could feel his stare like a touch. Curious how I was taking this history lesson, maybe? But I didn’t have an opinion yet. I needed the full story.
Dr. Moore plowed on. “The citizens of this country tried to overrule the government—they hated and feared those in power at the time. Anyone who opposed this takeover had the weaker voice, and as threats of violence grew rampant on every street corner, they feared leaving their homes. They quit their jobs, pulled their kids out of school. Word spread quickly and unrest formed in other countries as well.”
He laid his palms flat on the desk and chuckled. “You’re probably wondering why it was called the Silent War then. Because as the world teetered on the cusp of anarchy, as the ruling governments threatened to nuke each other to obliterate the chaos, the end was already upon them and they didn’t even know it. A mysterious airborne virus was released and”—his hands shot out as if holding an invisible ball—“poof. Ninety percent of all living things perished in an instant, and freedom of speech died with them. So, I guess you could say fear silenced the world.”
My brain struggled to digest this unbelievable event of the past. “Who—who would do such a thing?”
He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “Some say it was a secret military branch who wanted the world thrust back into the Dark Ages to more easily control the populace. Others say it was a terrorist attack led by mad scientists who wanted to see the world evolve into something other than hate and violence. But the real question is why a virus, and why this one? Did they know it would decimate so many? Did they know it would alter the seasons, make the cold temperatures colder and the hot temperatures hotter? Did they know that many of the remaining organisms would start to adapt, to mutate, to change into something . . . unnatural?”
“Maybe they wanted to throw chaos at the world so the world would stop its chaos. Change the chaotic outcome from violent individuals to group survivalism.”
At my theory, his thin lips split into a grin, revealing a wide gap between his front teeth. “You’re smart, Miss Avery, even without your memories. You’ll be a fine asset to our community. Which brings us to our next topic: what to do with you.”
My heart skipped a beat at the abrupt subject change. I looked down to see my leg bouncing. I still wasn’t connecting the dots—how I had gotten here, why I’d been on a mountain, and what the world’s devastating history had to do with it all.
Brendan placed one booted leg on top of the other, distracting my thoughts. My leg stopped moving. I snuck a glance at his face to find him smirking. Was he teasing me? I allowed my leg to bounce again. His smirk grew. “What the good doctor means is we won’t be putting you on kitchen duty anytime soon. You have untapped abilities that shouldn’t go to waste. Blue Ridge Sector isn’t just a safe place—it’s a program for people like us who adapted to the new environment and became something else entirely.”
I turned to him. “Something else. As in, not human?”
“At our core, we are still human, just enhanced. No two people are exactly the same, but we’ve started to group abilities into categories for less confusion. Dr. Moore is an Intellect, I’m a Sensor, and you . . . well, I have someone for
you to meet before we can know for sure what you are.”
“Scientists have discovered the main component of the virus that mutated our genes,” Dr. Moore added. “It’s called CRISPR—clustered regularly interspaced short palindromic repeats. In other words, DNA fragments that can edit genes. The fact that this component was added to the deadly concoction makes me believe that whoever released it was hoping for survivors. The splicing had to be intentional, but how and why they formulated the mutations and abilities we see today is still a mystery.”
His gaze turned speculative as he leaned forward once more. “It’s also why the others are uncertain of you, Miss Avery. The virus changed so much of the familiar, mutating even the tamest of creatures. Have you ever stumbled across a wererabbit? Nasty little things.” He grimaced as if reliving an unpleasant memory. “Fear of the unknown has been a curse upon this earth since the beginning of time. What we don’t know can harm us, so we lash out first, ask questions later. But once we figure out what your abilities are, people should start to relax again.”
“What if I’m . . . dangerous?” I glanced at Brendan again but couldn’t read his expression.
“We strive to accept all individuals, Miss Avery, unlike the city you were raised in. Everyone deserves a chance to thrive in this new world, abilities or no. But if your abilities prove to be unstable,” he said, his large gray eyes practically glittering with what looked like excitement, “we’ll help you. Safety is our number one priority.”
Our meeting ended soon after that, with Dr. Moore promising to answer any more questions I might have, but I had plenty to dwell on for the time being. Brendan offered to show me around Blue Ridge Sector—or “The Ridge”, since apparently everything here had a nickname—but I declined. If they were going to test me for hidden abilities I knew nothing about, then I needed one more day of rest and solitude. Because after today, I doubted I’d be spending much time in my simple, quiet room.
Adaptive: A Young Adult Dystopian Romance (The Elite Trials Book 2) Page 11