Rebels

by Sarah Noffke

  We arrive at a modest room with a neatly made bed and a dresser, but not much else. To say it’s plain isn’t the right description. It’s stripped. Parker points to the bed, a nervous look on his face. “Lay him there.”

  Ungracefully we lay Rogue down, arranging him at once so he’s on the bed completely. It’s too weird to move his heavy, limp limbs. Everything is wrong about the act. But I’m somewhat relieved to have to only carry myself. I roll out my shoulders as I watch Parker dig into a suitcase behind the door, retrieving a stethoscope from it.

  “You were planning on leaving, weren’t you?” I say, unable to keep the hostile conviction out of my voice.

  “I did what you asked,” Parker says, rushing around the room looking for his instruments. “I documented the locations of the cerevitium.”

  “So now you’re going to run when you could help more?”

  He stops rummaging through a drawer. Pushes his glasses up on his nose. “I can’t help anyone,” he says, a cruel self-loathing in his eyes.

  “You can help him,” I say, pointing at Rogue. Then my throat catches as I look at him. Really see him for how he is right now. Fragile. Unconscious. Weak. Rogue’s head lies to the side, his body appearing to sleep but his consciousness locked away. I forget Parker and his cowardly behavior at once.

  The bed springs creak when I sit down next to Rogue. “What’s happened to him?” I say, grabbing Rogue’s hand, wishing he’d squeeze mine back. “Is he in a coma?”

  The clatter of Parker’s movements halts behind me. He walks slowly until he’s beside me, giving a tentative expression. “I don’t think so,” he says in a careful voice. Tucked into his shirt pocket is a syringe. He sets a tiny bottle full of clear liquid on the bedside table. Another drug. “I’ll need to examine him to know for sure though. You said he had a headache and that caused this?”

  “Yes,” I say, stroking my fingers over the top of Rogue’s hand. “He just passed out. He’s never done that. And he’s only been half conscious since then, coming in and out.” The tip of my finger draws dime-sized circles around his wrist and then up his forearm. And then quite suddenly Rogue’s fingers flex. His arm reaches forward, then retracts, seeming to be searching. His hand finds mine and he seizes on it with a gentle pressure. An almost smile gives new life to his drawn face.

  “Rogue,” I say, excitement in my voice. I grab the side of his face, bringing it forward from its resting position.

  His eyelids flicker, his head still angled down. And then he pulls his chin back, holding his head up without my assistance. Rogue’s eyes make three attempts to open, and then when they do I lean in close.

  “There you are,” I say, my voice a gush of relief.

  “Where have I been?” Rogue says, the act of talking coating his words with pain.

  “You passed out,” I say, moving in to look at his eyes more clearly, which still seem disoriented. He continues to blink, each one taking longer than it should. But then he stays focused on me, a smile finally reaching his lips. “There you are,” he says. “Damn eyes weren’t working.” His gaze slides up to Parker standing beside me and the smile drops from his face. Horror takes over his expression. “Oh, damn it, Em!” he says with a growl. “What have you done?”

  “I brought you here. We did,” I say, motioning at Zack and myself. “You passed out. What else were we supposed to do?”

  “Not take me to see him,” Rogue says, pointing at Parker like he wishes he’d disappear. “Hey there, Doc. Sorry not to be happier to see you.”

  “What’s your deal, Rogue?” I say, straightening.

  “I’m just not ready to see him,” Rogue says, his eyes cast low like the floor in the distance is particularly interesting. “I’m not ready.”

  “Em,” Parker says, his hand on my shoulder. “Can you please move aside so I can examine Rogue properly?”

  Rogue flinches from the idea. He looks ten times worse than usual after an episode. His eyes are bloodshot, puffy. Blotches of red mark his face and his hair is coated to his forehead from the sweat of the fever. Nonetheless he’s the most handsome man alive. A headache and a fever can’t take that from him. He gives me a weak nod. “Zack, will you take Em in the other room?” Rogue says, motioning to the door. The effort of only doing that looks to be too much for him. “The doc and I need to discuss something.”

  “Sure,” Zack says, stepping to my side.

  I rise from the bed and step softly, each movement feeling strange, like I’m suddenly outside my body. There’s something in Rogue’s eyes. A odd haunting expression. It chills me even now when I’m not looking at him. Again and again I’ve had the impression that he’s not telling me something, but now it feels like he’s doing more than that.

  Once in the hallway I slide down the wall and sit on the wooden floor as Zack closes the door behind him. The hallway is narrow and smells like the floors have been recently polished. Across from me Zack takes a seat.

  “Was it successful, otherwise?” he asks.

  I know without him saying it that he means the task at the labs. “I think so,” I say, my eyes pinned on the door. Waiting for it to open. For my opportunity to be back beside Rogue. “We left before I was certain the detonation of the major supply happened, but I destroyed everything I saw and I think so did Nona.”

  Zack nods. “Now we wait to see what comes of it.”

  My mind is a million miles from the lab and the destroyed bottles of cerevitium. “Zack, he’s going to finally get help,” I say, finally allowing enthusiasm to enter my voice. “Parker will be able to do something, don’t you think?”

  “I’m hopeful if anyone can it will be him.”

  We sit in silence for another minute before Parker opens the door, a strange expression on his face. That was fast. I rush to a standing position, ready to enter the room, but Parker holds up a single hand. His long skinny fingers make an unassuming stop sign.

  “I need to talk to you before you see him,” he says.

  “What? Did you examine him? Did you give him something?”

  Parker makes to nod and then shakes his head. He steps out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. “I tried to examine him, but he wouldn’t let me.”

  “Damn it, Rogue! What’s your problem?” I say loud enough that he no doubt can hear me through the closed door.

  “He did allow me to give him a sedative, which will relieve some of the residual pain and tremors from the headache. Let’s let him rest. Please join me in my office.” Parker turns and holds out a hand directing me. I exchange a skeptical expression with Zack. Swallowing down something sharp in my throat, I consent by walking forward.

  Parker’s office is as bare as his bedroom. There’s a long couch, an empty bookcase, and a desk, but not much else.

  “Please make yourself comfortable,” Parker says, indicating the couch. Zack takes a seat alongside me.

  It’s Parker’s pacing that immediately makes me rise back into a standing position. “Tell me what’s going on?”

  The doctor pauses, his hesitant eyes flicking up to mine before revolving on the floor again. He pinches his mouth together. Opens it. And then snaps it shut again.

  “Oh, curse the gods, what the hell is going on?!” I yell, my words and tone making Parker jump. No one in their right mind would curse the gods, and I’m definitely meeting that definition right now as anxiety overwhelms my thoughts. “Why wouldn’t Rogue let you examine him? What have you done to him in the past that he hates you so much?!” Zack’s hand touches my shoulder, but I shrug it off. Step forward.

  After another few seconds of deliberation Parker locks his eyes on me. “I have done many things wrong. I have hurt Rogue in the same and different ways that I unknowingly did to you and other Defects for years.” His words are unhurried and I’m seconds away from electrocuting him to get answers. “But those are not the reasons that Rogue was against seeing me.” He pauses, his gaze swiveling to Zack beside me and then back on the ground. My e
yes bulge with frustration.

  “Parker!” I say his name with frustrated contempt.

  He nods, seeming to gather himself. Brings his chin up. “From everything I can gather, this headache Rogue had tonight is causing brain swelling. That’s the reason he passed out,” he says, now talking in a quick, matter-of-fact tone. “It was really only a matter of time before the headaches progressed to this point. I’d been suspicious of this since you explained what he was experiencing. The brain damage must have caused—”

  “Wait,” I say, stepping forward and feeling my knees almost falter under me. “Did you say brain swelling?” I feel like I’ve walked into quicksand and it’s overwhelming me, about to suffocate me.

  Parker clasps his hands behind his back. Nods, his head low as he does. “Yes. I’m afraid so.” And there’s no trace of actual fear in his voice.

  “Do something about it,” I say. Each word is forced through my clenched teeth.

  Again Parker’s eyes rise to Zack before returning to me. “I can’t.”

  “You can’t or you won’t?!” I say, almost springing forward, attacking Parker.

  Parker shakes his head, not backing away from me, looking more concerned by something plaguing him from the inside. “It’s progressed too far.”

  “No,” I say in one long whispered voice.

  “Em, there’s nothing I can do.”

  “What are you saying, Parker?”

  “I’m saying that it’s too late to stop the swelling.”

  “But you haven’t even examined him!” I yell.

  “No, but it’s an educated guess based on everything I know about Rogue and everything he’s shared with me just now,” Parker says, his words sounding heavy, like they’re coated in lead.

  “What? Tell me everything.”

  Parker breathes deeply with his eyes closed. When he opens them there’s a sharp discomfort so accurately expressed in one single gaze. “Rogue wouldn’t allow me to examine him because he knows it’s already too late.”

  “Damn it, Parker. He’s not a doctor,” I say, my tone quiet, but my words harsh. “I order you to go back and give him a full examination.”

  Parker shakes his head at once. “Rogue has had a premonition about tonight. It’s the reason he never wanted to see me. He believed the next time we met would be right before he died.”

  “He’s wrong!” I scream, and it feels like it’s enough to shatter my throat.

  Parker’s mouth twitches. “I’m afraid he probably isn’t.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  A blackness starts to creep into my vision, carrying with it spots. And second by second an anxiety so pronounced I think it will tear me in two takes over. So to battle this, to survive, I explode. “You did this to him!” I shriek and bolt forward until I’m in Parker’s face.

  He doesn’t move, but does cringe from my sudden proximity. “I didn’t know.”

  “You injected poison into him. You can’t plead ignorance and think that will pardon you from fixing him.”

  “I would if I could, but there’s no way.”

  “You can’t let him die.” And I gulp on the last word, my chest suddenly shuddering from a cold weight. The hands gripping Parker’s shirt are mine, but I don’t remember using them. I don’t remember making the decision to push him into the wall. My feet race forward without my consent, my fist ready to assault Parker. And then hands grip my forearms from behind, pulling me away, off the cowering doctor who now has his hands obstructing his head.

  Spinning me around in one movement, Zack pushes in until his eyes are level with mine. “Em, he can’t do anything.”

  Immediately I dart my eyes to the floor. “But he…” I stop. Suck in a shallow breath. Gulp down the acid rising in my throat. “He has to do something. How can you allow him to give up?” I say, staring intently at a baseboard, my eyes like polarizing magnets to Zack’s.

  “Em, please look at me?” Zack asks, each of his hands pinned on one of my shoulders.

  I shake my head. Bite my lip.

  “Fine, but don’t waste your energy being angry. Don’t waste this time,” he says.

  This time. The brutal implications in those two words strike me like a bulldozer. “Don’t waste this time,” I repeat in a shocked whisper. We only don’t waste what is limited and soon to run out. Confused outrage makes me swivel my gaze up to look at Zack. The brutal pain in his eyes does exactly what I knew it would: it makes my own grief erupt to the surface. The hot anger I felt toward Parker is now engulfed by a searing ache. And then the strangest déjà vu hits me. Four years ago I stared into these same blue eyes and witnessed the identical tortured expression on Zack’s face. Back then the same disbelieving sorrow took residence in my chest that is starting to pulse there now.

  “We can’t accept this,” I say to Zack, and strangely my voice sounds calm, unmarked by the tears plaguing my throat. “Not this time. We have to fight.”

  Zack flicks his eyes over my shoulder to where Parker stands. “Is there something you can try? Something you can give him?”

  “Not at this stage and even if there was, Rogue won’t allow it. He made that exceptionally clear,” Parker says, his voice so clinical I want to tear it out of his throat. Maybe Zack senses this because his hands stay firmly wrapped around each of my shoulders. “The pain medicine I’ve given him is all he’ll allow, but it will keep him comfortable until—”

  “Finish that sentence and I will kill you Parker,” I say, my vengeful eyes on Zack’s. I see a similar anger in his, but he’s so much better at containing it.

  “He’s not the enemy,” Zack says, his chin low, eyes piercing into mine.

  “No, he’s a follower. A doctor who injected innocent children without investigating what the drugs were.” I flip my head over my shoulder, only able to catch Parker in my peripheral. “If the gods actually exist I hope they make your life long and one that is riddled with torturous guilt.”

  I don’t catch the exact look in his eyes, but I know shame when I see it. Each word I speak out of anger smothers the pain. I realize now how people choose this ugly emotion. It’s the lesser of two evils. At least with my anger burning in my veins I have energy, whereas pain robs me of motivation and the desire to move and act.

  “Em, look at me,” Zack says. He’s going to try and convince me to calm down. To stop being so hostile. And if I look at Zack again he will mirror my pain, which I can’t see right now.

  “No,” I say, and using every ounce of strength I own I rip out of Zack’s grasp and march forward. I feel him at my back, ready to pull me off Parker again, but he pauses when I stalk past the doctor and out the door.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The sound of Rogue stirring against the bed linens rips across the room when I enter. I keep my eyes low, trying again and again to arrange my face into something that isn’t tragic.

  “I’m gonna go out on a limb here,” Rogue says, his voice raspy and deep, “but I’m guessing you’re pretty pissed at me right now.”

  My eyes clasp shut. I squeeze them so hard it makes my head hurt. “Please don’t joke right now.”

  “Later doesn’t work for me, Em.”

  I snap my eyes open, dark spots crowding my vision for a second. “Is this a game to you, Rogue? How are you so flippant?”

  He lies in the bed propped up by several pillows. One of his arms rests casually behind his head, but the look on his face contradicts his position and his words. Written on Rogue’s face is a raw tragic knowingness. I see it so clearly now that it knocks my breath out of my chest. That look was there all along. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me?”

  He nods, a minute motion. “I knew before you brought me here. I’ve known I was going to die tonight for a long time.”

  “Don’t. Say. That.”

  “I can reword it a hundred different ways, but the implications are the same.”

  “Tell me everything,” I say, reversing until the wall is firm against my back,
holding me up. “Don’t leave out any more secrets.”

  He waves me forward, a gesture that I’ve seen him do a hundred times and now looks too slow, too weak to belong to him.

  I shake my head, plant my hands behind me, trying to grip the wall for support.

  Rogue seems to think my distance is entertaining judging by the look on his face. “Em, I saw what happens tonight in a vision I had years ago after a headache. This one vision has been persistent. It’s why I chose to live alone. I knew I’d die young. And it’s also why every trip to the Valley has been so tense for me. I always saw myself with Dr. Parker in my vision, explaining to him that this was my last resting place. Tonight that conversation came to pass.”

  “That’s why you never wanted to see Parker? You connected your meeting with him to…”

  “Exactly, I knew the next time I saw Parker would be my last.”

  “Rogue, I’m sorry. I brought you here. I didn’t know,” I say, pressing more firmly into the wall.

  “How could you have known? I didn’t want you to, that’s why I didn’t tell you. There’s no way on the gods’ green earth I was gonna torture you with this knowledge. You would have been miserable. But no matter what I knew it would happen. Running from fate will only make you run into it.”

  “But you say that all you’ve seen is some stupid conversation with Parker. How can you be so convinced?” And I know what Parker just told me about Rogue’s brain swelling, but I’m not going to accept this. Not now, maybe never.

  “I’ve seen past my death. I know.”

  “Rogue, this is absurd. You’re piecing together visions. All this could be a mistake.”

  The corner of his mouth draws up with a partial smile. “I’ve seen so much past my death. I’ve seen you, and the rebellion, and change,” he says, conviction in his voice. “Thing is that I’ve seen my death for so long, but I never saw you and me together. The gods must have kept it a secret so as to not spoil the surprise,” he says too casually. “I always assumed I died alone.”