The Awakening (34 page)

I roam the halls aimlessly, my arms wrapped around my waist, until I end up in the common room. I expect to find Gabe by the door, but he’s not. Instead, the muted television casts bluish light into the dark room as Non sits on one of the couches, staring at CNN on the screen. I shuffle over and sit beside her. I think the numbness is finally starting to take effect.

The news anchor talks about a possible ceasefire between Egypt and Sudan, then moves on to the continuing decline in our nation’s crime rate and several key attributing factors. I don’t even try to listen. I just gaze at the screen with glossy eyes—impossibly tired but unwilling to close. The second they do, I will relive it all over again. Luka being dragged away.

A few words spoken by the anchor register in my mind. He’s talking about a new initiative by President Cormack to make mental rehabilitation centers available to all citizens, even if they do not have health insurance.

I wrap my arms around my shins. “What happened to all those people, Non?”

She blinks at me through the darkness, the light from the television casting a ghost-like glow on her face. “You saw the rooms.”

Yes, I did. They were empty. Every single one. “What does it mean?”

“You already know the answer.” I can practically see her shifting into teacher mode. “You studied the journals. You made the connection.”

I blink back at her.

“During the Age of Exploration, there was a high population of The Gifting amongst Native Americans. During the time of Nazi Germany, there was a high population of The Gifting amongst Jews. Right now, at this very moment, can you not think of a people group that contains a high population of The Gifting?”

It clicks. This puzzle piece that’s been shifting and wiggling about. But it brings no sense of satisfaction. “The mentally ill.”

“Curious, isn’t it?”

“You think the government is killing off the mentally ill to get rid of The Gifting?”

She taps her nose, but the gesture falls flat. “We are supposed to keep darkness in check. That’s why we exist—to keep it under control. Because uncontained darkness …” Non shakes her head and sinks back against the cushion. “That is a terror too unimaginable for words.”

I should care about this awful terror. I should care that Non is tiptoeing around the prophecy—about a time when The Gifting will face extinction and One will arise with the power to save them and restore the balance between light and dark. I should care that Cap thinks I am that One. But I can do none of those things. Not when my heart is cold and dead inside my chest.

“History has a way of repeating itself,” Non mumbles.

I stand from the couch and wander some more, until I’m standing at the threshold of Luka’s bedroom. Luka’s tomb. I’m not supposed to be here, at night. It’s against the rules. I step inside anyway and I crawl into his bed. I lay my head on his chest and listen to the steady thrumming of his heartbeat. Tears leak from the corner of my eyes, soaking through his shirt.

Please Luka … come back. Please don’t really be gone.

*

The sound of screaming awakens me—a blood-curdling scream that splits the air and raises the hairs on my arms. I bolt upright, heart pounding erratically. Where am I, and who is making that sound? It looks like a cold, dark basement. I rub my eyes and the scream comes again. A cry wrought with pain. A cry that belongs to …

“Luka!”

It’s him. He’s here. Straight ahead of me, lying on the cold, cement floor, bound by black tentacles of mist, surrounded by skeletal men with unseeing eyes. He arches up, the contortion reminding me of my mother in her bed when she was being tortured. His body flails as if trying to escape. The black mist lacerates his body and he screams again.

He’s alive. His soul is not gone.

I run toward him, this time unencumbered by Gabe or Cap. Nothing is stopping me from helping him, from fighting these men. Until Luka’s frantic eyes land on mine and his pain morphs into panic. “No.” He shakes his head, beads of sweat pouring down his face. “Startle, Tess! Please, startle.”

“Yes, by all means, startle.” The cold voice echoes off the walls, bringing me to a halt. It’s Scar Farce. He prowls around Luka like a lion ready to pounce. “Or are you unwilling to leave your friend behind?”

I look between him and Luka, my mind grappling for a solution. A way to get us both out of this. A way to bring his spirit back to his body.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Little Rabbit. We’ve been waiting a long, long time.” He smiles a hungry smile and takes a few steps toward me.

There’s a blast of white, hot light. It slams him against the wall. It was Luka. Even in chains, even while being tortured, he’s still protecting me. The man wipes at a trickle of blood that dribbles down the corner of his mouth. I run toward Luka, determined to break him free. Determined to fight every last one of these monsters with my bare hands. Until Luka is back or I am dead.

My body convulses.

It gives a giant, involuntary shudder. My eyes flutter, and then they open. Gabe stands above me with his hand on my shoulder. My clothes are drenched in sweat. My heart punches violently at my chest. I bolt upright in Luka’s bed.

I should be struck through with terror. I should be livid that Gabe shook me awake. But all I can feel is a flood of overwhelming relief. Luka isn’t gone. He’s still alive, held hostage by the other side. “Gabe, he’s alive.”

“For now.” Grim words from a grim face. He misunderstands.

There’s commotion out in the hallway.

Lights come on.

Cap shouts something indecipherable.

Gabe looks toward the noise.

“No, I mean he’s really, really alive. I saw him! Just now. He’s being held prisoner. They’re torturing him.” I picture the black mist lacerating his skin, leaving behind angry, red welts. How long before he’s damaged beyond repair? How long before he really is gone forever?

Cap rolls into Luka’s room with Link close behind. “She’s gone.”

“Who?” Gabe asks.

“Claire. Non fell asleep during guard duty. When she woke up, something felt off. She checked the door and discovered it was unlocked.” Cap drags his hand down his whiskered face, looking weary to the bone. “She’s not in her room. She’s nowhere.”

I crawl out of Luka’s bed. “What does that mean?”

“It means she’s defected.”

“Defected?”

“She crossed over to the other side,” Link says. For the first time since knowing him, he looks truly disturbed.

“Can The Gifting do that?” I ask.

“The Gifting can do whatever they want,” Cap says. “It’s the great blessing and the great curse that is our free will.”

I shake away the newest development that is the hub’s growing problems. I don’t care about Claire. In fact, good riddance. The other side can have her. There is one thing, and one thing alone that deserves my attention. One thing, and one thing alone that matters. One thing, and one thing alone that I will fight for until my last dying breath.

I have a Keeper to save.

*

K.E. Ganshert was born and raised in the exciting state of Iowa, where she currently resides with her family. She likes to write things and consume large quantities of coffee and chocolate while she writes all the things. She’s won some awards. For the writing, not the consuming. Although the latter would be fun. You can learn more about K.E. Ganshert and these things she writes at her website
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Nobody’s Listening

I
thought I knew what insanity felt like. When I saw things nobody else could see. When my nightmares started unfolding in real life. When a much-too-popular, achingly handsome boy started watching my every move. When I was locked up in a mental hospital against my will and told everything I knew to be true was a figment of my imagination.

I thought I knew.

But all of that was nothing compared to this.

The hub has erupted into pandemonium. All the lights are on, and since windows do not exist down here—deep in the bowels of a ruined warehouse—it might as well be day instead of the dead of night. Everyone is awake and focused on the defector. The one who betrayed me, the one who betrayed him. Everyone is panicked over what this means—Claire out there, knowing all she knows about our location, our names, who we really are.

How could she do it?

That is the question of the hour. But I don’t care about her. I don’t care about why she defected or the ramifications of her decision. All I care about is him—the boy across the hall, unable to wake up. But very, very much alive.

Despite what Gabe thinks, Luka’s soul has not been destroyed.

I saw him. I heard him. He’s being held hostage, tortured by the white-eyed men. His screams echo inside my head. They won’t stop. Nor will the way he arched up in agony as black webs of mist lacerated his body. Every second that ticks past is one more second closer to losing him forever. And that is something I cannot let happen. Because if Luka dies, then so will everything else.

I scratch the inside of my wrist and begin to rock like the patients in straitjackets at Shady Wood. Link sits beside me on the couch, mindlessly twisting his Rubik’s Cube. Nobody will listen—not Gabe, not Cap, not Sticks or Non. They think I’m in shock. They think I’m in denial. They keep talking about Clive DeVant, who’s supposed to arrive with Dr. Carlyle in the afternoon, and Fray, who’s supposed to leave with Dr. Carlyle to a hospital in Northern Michigan, but if we stick around until tomorrow, we might all end up in jail.

Jail. My father. He’s in the California State Penitentiary for a crime he didn’t commit. I let the thought float away. I can’t deal with that right now.

“What are we going to do?” someone asks.

“What if Claire’s already gone to the authorities?”

“She has all of our names. She knows all of our faces.”

“Are we safe?”

Something feral claws up my throat. A wild beast of a thing, but before it can escape, Cap raises his hand. It’s a simple gesture, and yet, coming from him—our leader—the hub goes quiet.

“I will figure out what to do about Fray and Clive. In the meantime, everybody needs to return to their room and pack a bag.”

The wild beast of a thing claws free. “We can’t leave!”

“Claire has left us no choice,” Cap says.

“We can’t leave Luka here.” The hot words scald my throat. I come to my feet. “You-you’d be murdering him!”

Everybody stares.

Nothing can be heard but the steady tick-tick of a clock on a far wall of the common room.