Salient Invaders: A Young Adult Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Series (The Separation Trilogy Book 2)

by Felisha Antonette

  I grimace, faltered by the hostility in his tone. “Did I just make you mad or something?”

  “No, Ky.” Luke bows his head and rubs his temples. “It’s not you. It’s everything else. Get dressed so we can go. I’ll find someone else to do the morning sweep, now that we have day-walking Zombies. I’ll find you a shake too.” He leaves.

  I dress quickly, seeing as I’m late starting the day. Opening my door to leave my room, I hear Cory calling me from downstairs. I walk down the stairs and lean against the wall. He looks me over and just stands there, staring. So I stare back.

  “What?” he asks.

  “You are in my home, you called me, and you are staring at me not saying anything. Then you tell me what?”

  “I don’t want Luke to know about me.”

  Luke already knows about you, idiot. “Tell me the real reason Jord let you back. And why they’re letting you move back up the ladder.”

  He scowls. “You tell me what you think.”

  I quietly reveal, “I think anyone who is not only here as a Creation should get shot in their head for being an implant. Along with anyone who is willing to reveal our secrets to our enemies.”

  “That’s not what I’m here for.”

  “Then what are you here for, you and others like you?” I hold my breath, anxiously waiting to hear if his answer uncovers which Vojin’s side he’s on.

  “I’m here to establish a better life amongst the humans. Not Creations. Creations are to be terminated.”

  Thankfully, the wall is at my back. His words nearly knock me off my feet. Though he says it calmly, it’s in his eyes. Their somber expression reveals how much he agrees with that garbage. My brows furrow, and my nostrils flare. “What do you mean?” I snap.

  “If they make a better life, what would Creations be needed for? Creations were created to manage and enforce order. If the humans on this world are ordered and civilized, we don’t need to exist. There is no reason for Creations. We,” he points to himself and me, “are not peaceful. We are not manageable. We follow orders, yes, but if we were to disobey and go against the Trade, the Premier, and the Guidance, we would triumph over them, and possibly, if we wanted, destroy them. We could take over this place. But instead, we—and when I say we, I mean the Creations who are implants and are here and around other areas of the America and the world—we will show them,” he points up, “that we do not need to be destroyed and that we can help enforce peace.”

  I stare in awe. None of his words are those of a Creation, and because this has never showed in him before, I’m baffled. “Who are you?” I blurt in distaste. “Less than a year ago, you shot a girl in the face because she didn’t belong here, and now you’re talking about peace and better living.” I take a step back from him. I, too, have thought of not fighting in the wars for the rest of our lives. But triumphing over the Trade and the Premier, what we’ve known our entire lives? Working with the Vojin, who probably put this crap in his head and made him believe they would implement peace, when really, they are trying to take over our planet? Trying to rule over us, destroy us, and then reconstruct us? No way!

  What he’s saying doesn’t add up or match the other things he has said. If this is a fact, he would have never considered the thought of reconstruction. “I don’t believe you,” I tell him, squinting my eyes. He disgusts me. I don’t know him at all. And the person I did know was more of him than he is right now. Something has changed in him. Cory would never say this.

  Sadness makes his eyes droop. He frowns. “Why not?”

  Oh. He’s trying to convince me to side with him. Like the Vojin requested for Luke and me to do. He’s making himself sound vulnerable so that I will give in, because he’s telling the truth and puts his trust in me. But I know for a fact that is not truth. I don’t know what the truth is, but it isn’t this.

  “Kylie, fight with me against them.”

  “Them who?”

  “Who do you want to see fall?”

  Luke walks in. “See what fall?” He stands next to Cory, and his face of disgust mirrors mine. “This is a snake-free zone, serpent. Because you are working your scaly way back up doesn’t give you a pass to my sister. Stay away from her.”

  Cory shifts his gaze from Luke to me. “Think about what I said, Ky.” He marches from our house, closing the door behind him.

  “What did he say?”

  “I don’t know, Luke. He wants me to trust and believe him about him working for the Vojin to implement peace. Then maybe, he wants us to overpower everyone as Creations. He was talking a whole lot of crazy, nothing like a Creation, nothing like he’s mixed, nothing like a human even.” I rake my fingers through my hair to pull it into a ponytail. “Are we still going on the sweep?”

  “No. Cory and Hanley will go. And I convinced the cooks to round us up a couple of shakes.” He flashes his big brother smile and pats my shoulder.

  “Good.” We head outside, and I pull the door closed behind me. “Let’s go drink them.”

  Gia sits with us in the rec hall. “I hate Separation on days like this. It’s too hot to go outside.”

  Luke and I drink the shakes he managed to get us. Mine tastes okay, but I’m still missing the diner, the basket of fries, and Marc. I shake my head. What I mean to say is, I’m missing the diner and the basket of fries…

  “It’s boring, and with everyone gone, it’s empty,” I say, observing the quiet space. “What’s on your schedule for today, Luke?”

  “Thankfully, nothing, until the afternoon when I have to follow up with the captains and privates that left to check in on how things are going with Citizen Management and when they expect to return.”

  “That should deliver some good news,” I say and take a sip of my shake.

  “Good morning.” Seits takes a seat.

  “Good morning,” we respond.

  “You all are trying to stay out of the heat?”

  “Yes,” Gia says loudly.

  “Luke, I need your assistance. Cory and Hanley seem to have disappeared. They went out for the morning sweep and are not responding to their radios. You will accompany Jord to look for them. Respond,” she orders kindly.

  “I understand,” Luke says, rising.

  “Excuse me, Gia. I would like to talk to Kylie.” I am not accustomed to these private and personal talks with women of an older age. They make me uncomfortable because they always want to get a little too personal.

  Gia nods and leaves, and I cringe at the thought of being left alone with Seits. She’s been wanting to discuss Cory recently when no one is within earshot. When we are not talking about Cory, she uses the time to teach me ways I can be more like her. That’s fine, but I do not want to be like the next person. I want to be better than them. Tell me your failures, your weaknesses, this way I can learn from your mistakes and avoid them. Tell me ways I can be better than you.

  Long story short, I don’t want to hear what she has to talk to me about right now.

  “Kylie, how has everything been going? After our talk?”

  I look her in her eyes and nod once. “I’ve kept my distance as you suggested.”

  “He hasn’t kept his.”

  I’m short. “He’s persistent.”

  “Would you be opposed to a few tests? Suspected implants are required to undergo a few we have set aside to weed them out.”

  “Is there some reason that I cannot be trusted?” Undergo a few tests? You can’t test for mixed Creations. Our blood is the same. The only way they could find out is if we admit to it or show them. My blood, however, is not the same as that of a mixed Creation. I’m a rebellious host, and my blood will give Luke and me away.

  “Should there be?”

  I take the last sip of my shake as the straw hits the bottom of the Styrofoam cup. Looking at her, I say, “Test me. I wouldn’t want there to be an issue. I’ve worked too hard to get to where I am and where I want to go. I am in support of your requirements.” I don’t have a choice…
<
br />   Seits nods as she stands. “There will be a truck arriving in thirty minutes. You and I will go to the labs. Don’t take this the wrong way, Kylie. We trust you, but there are instructions for us to test you.”

  I nod. When Cory gets back, I’m taking him to a training room, and I’m going to beat the life out of him. That son of a bitch set me up. He knows he’s being watched by everyone. This was purposely done. Maybe our names are on the list, and his way of chopping down my brother is getting me out of the way first.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The scientist sits me in a chair in a metal room. Metal floor, metal table, metal walls, and a metal chair. I was stripped of my weapons, vest, and shirt. I sit in a white tank, my black pants, and boots untied, watching the doctor approach me.

  My insides are boiling with anger, and I can feel my pulse jump in my arm as the doctor wraps a rubber tie around it. It looks like the one the nurse used on me when she gave us the vaccination that made our eyes change colors.

  I’m quiet. As a Creation would be. I sit here and let them do what is needed. A Creation wouldn’t fight back; they do as they’re told all the way to death. We don’t beg or give in. It’s not in our nature.

  “Kylie, they will take your blood.” The walls speak with Seits’s voice. I don’t see a speaker from where it’s coming from.

  The doctor sticks a needle in my arm and draws three tubes of blood. It’s dark red as it fills the tube, as it has always been.

  “Kylie, they will check your blood pressure,” Seits’s voice informs me as the doctor wraps my arm with a black band that stays in place with Velcro. She squeezes the attached pump, and the wrap expands and tightly squeezes my arm. My circulation cuts off. She turns a small metal nob on the black pump and looks at her watch. Seconds later, she turns the same nob counterclockwise, and the band loosens, deflating. My blood rushes, pumping the pulse in my left arm faster.

  “Kylie, they will inject you with a substance that may show a change in you.” My heart rate kicks up, but I try to keep my breaths even. This, I am worried about. The last time, it made me sick, and I regurgitated on the side of the rec hall. But I can’t object.

  The doctor wraps another rubber band around my arm and ties it tight. She thumps the vein in the crux of my arm twice with her middle finger, causing my trigger finger to twitch. She brings forth a syringe with black liquid in the tube. In the black liquid are tiny yellow balls that move around, becoming more visible as they swirl inside the glass syringe.

  I take in a breath as the big needle pinches my skin upon insertion. “Your vein may change colors. In most Creations, it will change the color of your eyes,” the scientist informs me.

  The liquid burns as it’s pumped into me. My vein turns ice blue, the color of my eyes. I squeeze my right hand, handling the pain so I don’t let it show.

  The scientist pulls out the needle. She shines a flashlight in my eyes as she asks, “How do you feel?”

  “I feel like I want you to take whatever you put in my arm out,” I growl through my teeth.

  “Good. It is supposed to feel like that.” She grabs her supplies. “We will be back to check on you in an hour.”

  “Why an hour?”

  “That’s how long it takes.”

  “How long what takes?”

  “For you to change.”

  I sit forward in an attempt to get up. Abruptly, restraints shoot out of the metal chair and over my wrists and ankles. “Change into what?” I shout angrily.

  “One of the undead.”

  What? Silenced, I stare at her as she leaves the room. Why would they want to change me into one of them? There is no cure to be changed back! What about my brother? What about me?

  What can I do now?

  Nothing.

  Only wait for them to get what they want. Seits could have at least warned me, let me tell Luke goodbye, and kill Cory, and tell Marc that what I felt for him was love. And thanks to Separation, it doesn’t mean anything.

  I grow nauseous and have to swallow hard to keep down the hurl. Fire is coursing through my veins, and I ball my hands into tight fists, trying to fight the discomfort.

  It’s no use.

  My brain is melting, and it becomes hard to focus. My eyesight blurs, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t think clearly.

  There’s a sound, “The transformation is taking effect. Remove the shackles and observe.”

  Foam forms in my mouth.

  I slither from the chair, crouched and ready. I’m alone. A growl that starts in my chest escapes from my slowly drooling mouth.

  My fingers move. I look down at my hands. My flesh looks appetizing. I force myself not to bite into it. I want to, but I don’t want to inflict pain upon myself.

  I growl again, growing hungry and impatient. I’m frustrated and sick of being alone. I can smell fresh flesh, and my mouth waters. I smell warm blood, and my throat itches to swallow it.

  Angrily, I flip the table and kick the chair I stood from as I snarl through my teeth. White fog is sinking down on me from the ceiling.

  I cough, hurling up tar as I crumple over, blacking out.

  I squint against the blinding light. A chilly breeze rustles my loose-fitting shirt.

  I’m lifted off my feet and slammed to the ground. Dirt clouds around me, briefly shading me from the sun. It hovers before settling slowly.

  Dropping into a crouch, I scan my surroundings. Nothing but land. I growl, hunger ratcheting up my anger.

  I stride across the red ground, heels dragging with each step, until something catches my senses. In the cool breeze, heat wafts past my knees. Its iron aroma carries me toward the tantalizing scent. A soft thumping sound propels me forward and makes my mouth water.

  I’m running, chasing the pleasure. A howl sounds behind me, something of a warning, but it means nothing to me now.

  The source of the smell and sound reveals itself in the short distance. A snarl erupts from my throat as I race toward it.

  “Kylie,” the flesh says as it tries to escape me.

  I run after the body with blond hair and green eyes, mouth foaming, watering, and thirsting for a taste. I leap in the air and land on top of the flesh I’m dying to sink my teeth into. I growl as I claw at the arms that are restricting me from attacking it.

  “Ky, stop! Let me help you!”

  I screech again, bowing to take a bite out of the hand holding back my arm. I’m punched in my face. I fall and have to scramble to my feet.

  “What happened to you?” it hisses.

  I growl and charge. There are two blaring snaps. I hit the ground.

  A sharp pain attacks my legs, but I stand against it. The flesh holds an object, two blaring snaps echo the open land again, and two bolts of lightning blasts from the object in its hand. I stumble back, the effects of something thrashing against my chest. I drop to the ground, growling.

  My arms are moved, and I am dragged backward, scrambling to get up. It’s impossible.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I heave, taking a lungful of dusty oxygen. When I part my lids, I’m looking up at the arms of a Vojin leaning away from me. Before they notice I’m conscious, I shut my eyes.

  “She’s still bleeding,” Cory says.

  “We can remove the infection, but we can do nothing to heal her wounds. It was not an infection created by a bite or by us. I would be careful if I were you, Cory.”

  Behind my closed lids, the sun beams down directly on top of me. It’s baking my exposed flesh. I am lifted and carried, presumably by Cory, who walks us away. Tires screech to a stop and a few doors open and close. I’m gently laid upon on the ground.

  Luke grabs my hand, squeezing it far too tightly. The kneecaps of my left and right knees and center of my chest radiates with heat as the wounds heal. The pain alleviates, and though I was already awake, so as not to tip off anyone watching, I allow my eyes to flutter and my lips to part as I exhale in relief. We stand in open desert land, not covered by hills or an
y structures. Luke pulls me from the ground, and I feel normal, thankfully no longer wanting to eat myself or anyone else.

  Looking me over, Luke snaps, “Shit! Are you okay, Ky? What happened to you?” I see worry in his eyes. Fighting back the tears lining his lower lids, he wipes his nose with the back of his hand. Luke’s not one to show his soft side publicly, and he’s resisting the urge to throw his arms around me and exhale in relief. I rub his shoulder to reassure him that I’m okay.

  Another truck pulls up beside us. Seits jumps out. Too focused on Luke, I didn’t notice Jord standing next to Cory. Maybe he got out with Luke. Seits walks to his side, and with her back to me, she whispers to him. Twisting around to face me, she urgently says, “Kylie, you are fine! It was a part of the test and proved nothing but what you’ve confirmed.”

  “What fucking tests?” Luke shouts, partly charging at the twin generals.

  I grab his shoulder. While we all understand his anger, it wouldn’t be in our best interest to take on the generals. “Luke,” I go to explain to prevent his assault. “After you left—” I cough once. It feels like sandpaper is scraping my throat. I’m thirsty. “—Seits informed me that because Cory practically stalks me, I was suspected of being an implant, and I needed to undergo tests to ensure I was not. They took my blood and pumped me with this black and yellow stuff that turned me into a Zombie. It was very odd, Luke. But I don’t know how I am no longer one. I woke up after you healed me.” I point to the ground that still has the slight imprint of my body where I was sprawled. “I remember changing. I remember trying to attack Cory. I remember him shooting me and blacking out.” I look at Seits. As I replay the events, anger boils in my gut. “Am I finished being tested?” I ask, keeping myself from shouting. “Or,” I continue, partly hissing through my teeth, “must I continue to leave myself open to being turned into a Zombie and getting killed?”

  Seits clasps her hands behind her back, looks me dead in the eyes, and says, “You are clear, Kylie. You, Luke, and Cory can take the truck back to the corridors. Jord and I will ride back in the others.”