The Elect: Malevolent, a Dystopian Novel (18 page)

The training has helped a little.

I take a deep breath and then peer around a corner. I hear guns firing. I hear shouting. And alarms screaming. But I see nothing but smoke. It’s thick and burns my throat.

To try to breathe easier, I rip the bottom of my shirt off and wrap it around my face. It doesn’t help much. My eyes blur, tears pouring into them to clear away the soot thick in the air. I stoop down, hoping the air will be clearer closer to the floor. It’s slightly better.

Now breathing a little easier, I run in a hunched-over position, as fast as I can, heading toward the main staircase, leading to the trainers’ apartments and training facilities. The deeper I go, the more blood and death I see. And the more terrified I become that I won’t find Jay in time. Men, women, people of all ages are strewn everywhere. Their death stares make my entire body shudder. I don’t want to look but I have to. I need to see if any of them are Jay.

When I reach the bottom of the stairs the air is clearer, cooler. The smoke and flames are blazing on the upper floor, but I know, from having started many wood fires in my life, that they will eventually reach down here. I don’t have much time.

At least it seems the terrorists have left this part of the building.

I race to Jay’s apartment door. Every door in this hallway has been kicked in. I don’t bother checking those rooms. I race to the last one. Oh God. It’s open too. I dash inside. A man, lying face down. Directly in front of me. His head…it’s been…blood and bone and brain matter are everywhere. I heave, vomiting next to him.

Jay? Is that Jay?

I can’t look. I can’t. Tears burn my eyes. I hear something behind me and whirl around, jerking up the gun.

Jay?

Jay.

It’s Jay. He’s alive.

Recognition sparks in his eyes. “Eva!” He sprints through the door. Something catches my eye. Movement. Behind him. I don’t think. I shoot. The noise, in such a small place, makes my ears ring. Jay looks back. The man behind him looks at him, at me then coughs. Blood splatters from his mouth, little red droplets spewing everywhere. He staggers, lifts the gun he’s holding at his side. Jay shoots. The man’s head jerks back and down he goes, with a loud thump.

Jay grabs my hand. “This way.”

We run, skirting around fallen bodies and weaving between upturned furniture. He leads me down a corridor I haven’t been to before. We rush through a door. More stairs, these descending. I follow, without question, assuming we’re running to safety. At the bottom is a narrow, low-ceilinged space. Stale water fills the bottom. We splash through a winding maze of tunnels. Right. Left. Right again. The air stinks. I’m soaking, trembling from fear and cold. With every step the water sprays our bodies, saturating our clothes. Still we don’t slow. Not until we reach a ladder.

“That way.” He pushes me toward it. “Go.”

I grip a rung. I’m cold but the metal is colder. I pull myself up, up, up. I hear Jay behind me, footsteps echoing in the dank space. At the top is a heavy metal grill. I push and it lifts up.

We’re outside. But are we safe?

I poke my head out and check. All I see are grasses and weeds. I climb higher, finding we’ve exited onto an old road somewhere. As I push out onto the crumbling concrete and grass, I look back at the smoke cloud in the distance.

“What happened?” I ask.

Jay cups my face. “Why did you come back? Why? Didn’t you see the fire?”

“Yes, I saw it, but Henry needs help. And I was worried.”

“You were worried about Henry?” His hands slide down my body, pulling me closer. It’s reassuring, as I press my head to his chest, to hear his heartbeat. It’s steady, comforting. I’m so thankful he’s here with me now, alive, well, unharmed.

“About…you,” I say. “I was worried about you.”

Pushing against my shoulders, he forces me back and stares into my eyes. He looks confused, or maybe angry. I’m not sure which. “You came back for
me
?”

My eyes are burning. It isn’t from smoke. I’m overwhelmed. The guns, the death, the terror. When I was in the midst of it, I’d been able to keep going. Keep running. Keep functioning. I’d been driven by the desperate need to find Jay. But now that he is safe, I’m safe, it’s all crashing on top of me, like a massive wave. I know I should be dragging Jay back to Henry. But I need a moment, just one, to fall apart a little.

So many lives stolen. So much death and suffering. So much blood. I wonder if I will ever forget the horror of it all. For the first time ever I was keenly aware of my mortality. This morning none of those people had imagined they would die. But they did. And they might have wished, as they took their last breath that they could see their families or friends one last time. To say goodbye.

“I came back for you,” I say once I can speak again. “I was so afraid you had been killed.”

“Eva. You crazy girl.” He pulls me to him, and I close my eyes, press my face against his chest, and breathe.

“I was so scared. I didn’t know if I’d find you,” I say as his warmth and scent envelop me in a cocoon.

He loops his arms around my body, snugging me tighter against him. “You should have run, hidden somewhere safe.”

“Doesn’t that go against everything we’ve been taught?”

“It does. But dammit, Eva, you shouldn’t have come. It was too dangerous.”

I tip my head back and look at his handsome face, realizing for the first time how much this boy has come to mean to me…already. I haven’t known him for long, but I can’t deny how I feel. I am falling for Jay, falling in love, after only knowing him for a few days. Falling hard. Falling fast. And that’s more terrifying than anything I’ve had to face yet. “I had to, Jay. I had to.”

“You’re…” He sighs, kisses the top of my head.

“I’m what?” I ask, my lips curling into a smile.

“You’re impossible. And beautiful. And brave. And stubborn. And infuriating.”

“I’ll take those as compliments.”

“You should. I don’t say nice things about people too often.” We stand there for a few precious seconds, holding each other. Silent. Just being. Celebrating the fact that we haven’t lost each other. Catching our breath. I belong here, in his arms. But I can’t stand around any longer. Henry needs my help.

“Henry,” I say. “He was shot.” I motion in the direction I think we need to go to find him. “I left him on a steep ridge, hidden.”

“I think I know where to look. He was shot? How? By who?” Staring straight ahead, Jay starts walking. He takes long, land-gulping strides. I have to jog to keep up, but I don’t care. I’m eager to get back to him. Henry has been a thorn in my side since the beginning of this whole thing. He’s threatened me and tormented me. He’s attacked my friends. But I can’t stand the thought of him alone, sick…dying. No one deserves that, to die alone. “None of the recruits were supposed to have guns.”

“I don’t know. At first I thought it was Damien. But then when I learned about the terrorists, I thought it might be them.”

“No, I doubt that. It couldn’t be them.”

“I know for certain at least one initiate had guns with him.” I pull the gun I’d been carrying out of my pants waistband. “Henry gave me this. He has at least one more.”

Jay breaks into a run, and I keep pace with him. “George. Has to be him. Probably gave them all guns.”

“Why would he do that?”

He turns down a road that looks familiar. We’re on our way to find Henry. I know it. And I’m relieved, even though Jay has no medical supplies, nothing to help Henry. I’m hoping he can at least help me get Henry to someone who can care for him. “I…couldn’t say. He’s done a lot of things lately I don’t understand.”

I tell him, “I marked my path back to Henry. He’s hidden. He needs medical care.”

Our feet hit the crumbling pavement at the same time, creating a steady smack, smack, smacking sound. Getting more anxious with every step, I count them. One, two, three.

As if Jay can tell how nervous I’m getting, he says, “We’ll find him. We’ll get help. Where are the others? Alice? Fran?”

“Alice and Fran are both dead. I haven’t found Mattie.”

He stops running suddenly, glances back at the burning building then starts running again. “Shit.”

“What is it?” I check behind us. I don’t see anyone following. Did he see something I didn’t?

Jay shakes his head. “I’ll explain later. Let’s go.”

Jay doesn’t say a word when we find Henry. He doesn’t have to. I know.

Henry’s dead.

I gulp. Tears burn. My throat feels raw. My heart clenches.

How ironic. I despised this boy, but still I’m crying. Crying for him. I drag my hand across my face. “I waited too long,” I say. “I shouldn’t have wasted so much time.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered.” Jay gently pulls the blanket over Henry’s head and stands. He turns sad eyes to me. “There’s nothing that could have been done.” He releases a long sigh, sits, and rakes his fingers through his hair. Shoulders slumped, head cradled in his hands, he stares at the ground.

He’s taking this hard too, almost as hard as me.

“Henry. Alice. Fran. I thought the trainees would be safe out here,” he says. His voice is very low, husky, and breathy.

I’m slightly confused by his reaction. While he has been the kinder trainer of the two, he hasn’t shown a great deal of emotion…until now. He’s very upset by Henry’s death, as if he’s blaming himself.

“What do you mean?” I crouch down so my eyes are level with his. I drag my arm across my face. Salty tears smear.

He still won’t look at me. Why?

“I didn’t know about the guns,” he mumbles. “George must have known.”

“I know you wouldn’t have let anyone take a gun out here if you’d known.” I set a hand on his knee. “Jay, this isn’t your fault. It’s George’s. He was the one who told Damien he could use deadly force if necessary. Damien took it too far.”

“No.” He lifts his eyes. They’re red, watery. His face is flushed. “It
is
my fault. All of it. Fran. Alice. Henry.”

Now I’m even more confused. “How is any of this your fault?”

He opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by a sound in the forest. I spin around, gun in hand, heart in my throat. I see movement, a flash of color and then a face. Mattie’s face.

I drop the gun and run to her, practically knocking her off her feet. “Mattie! I’m so relieved to see you’re alive.”

“Easy, Eva.” Mattie stumbles back one step, thrown off balance when I fling myself at her. She laughs and hugs me back, and for a moment the joy and relief are so overwhelming, I forget about all the bad things that have happened. It isn’t until I smell the smoke in her hair that it all comes rushing back to me. “Did you go—“

“Jay, we’ve confirmed all targets have been hit,” Mattie says, directing her dialog to Jay, and confusing the fuck out of me.

Targets hit? “What targets?” I ask them both as I pick up my gun and shove it into the waist of my pants.

Two sets of eyes flick to each other then to me. Mattie’s eyes get bigger. Her face pales. Her lips form an O.

“Um…” Mattie says.

Jay lifts his hand. “It’s okay,” he tells her.

What the fuck? There’s a whole lot of something going on between these two, communication with eyes.

“What’s going on?” I demand, suddenly feeling like I’ve been hiding under a rock for days (which isn’t far from the truth) and have no idea what’s happening.

Jay gives Mattie one last pointed look then stands and motions with a tip of his head. “Come with me.”

My insides start to twist into knots. My heart thumps. I don’t have a clue what he’s about to tell me, but I sense it’s going to be bad. Very bad.

We step away from Henry and Mattie.

Jay clears his throat. “There’s a lot you don’t know, Eva. And I’m not sure where to start.”

I give him an I-don’t-give-a-damn-where-you-start look.

He clears his throat again. His gaze starts flitting around like a skittish butterfly, hopping here and there. “There’s a reason why I wanted you to leave the agency before training was over. I…knew…about the attack on the compound. I’m a…” His face turns a very dark purple-red color. “I had everything figured out…until I met you. I knew what I was doing, and I knew it was good. And I knew I wouldn’t regret anything…but then I met you, and you showed me there’s more to life than hatred and vengeance.”

My head is spinning. I hear his words, but I don’t understand what he’s trying to say. I showed him there’s more to life than the bad? Is that such a terrible thing? What does it have to do with all that’s happened?

“I don’t understand, Jay.”

“Maybe this will help.” He lifts his shirt, displaying a chiseled abdomen. Ridges cut between thick slabs of toned muscle. It’s utter perfection. I’ve never seen anything like it. My gaze locks on and won’t let go. It’s only after he clears his throat that I manage to tear my eyes away from his stomach. Up, my gaze travels, following the line cutting through the center of his torso to his chest. It’s covered in black ink. A picture, with swirly letters is printed on his skin. I can’t make out what they say.

I’ve seen images like this in books, but I forgot what it was called. I’d thought the art form had been lost, like so many other wonderful sciences, arts and technologies, during the Great Decimation.

“This tattoo signifies my allegiance to a group called PAOSS.” He points out the letters in his tattoo as he says them. “Our goal is to ensure the survival of organic species in our world, including human. According to the NDA, we would be classified as terrorists.”

Terrorists? Jay is one of them, one of the men we have been training to kill?

I am stunned. Speechless. I feel my mouth gaping but damned if I can close it. I manage to blink but that’s all. The silence grows heavy as Jay waits for me to digest what he’s just told me.

I am aware of the gun, heavy and cold, pressed against my skin. My training tells me I need to shoot him. He is the enemy. He is the target.

But I can’t.

I can’t. Because I am falling in love with Jay. With a terrorist.

I am a failure.

Shaking out of my daze, I stagger backward and turn. Mattie is behind me, watching. She’s one of them too, I realize. My friend. My best friend. She was reporting to Jay.

They did this. They killed all those people in that building. They’re dead. All of them.

I don’t know what to do. Where do I go? What do I do? There’s no one to help me. No NDA. No Henry. No Alice. No George.

I climb up, going back the way Jay and I came. I’m grateful it’s a challenging climb. Loose stones shift, forcing me to concentrate. It occupies my mind and gives me a handful of confusion-free minutes. But once I make it to the top, and the risk of falling is gone, it all comes surging back. The anger. The fear.

What the hell?

What. The. Hell?

I cup my hands over my mouth and cry out. The sound is muffled but it still echoes across the wide chasm. Below I see Jay and Mattie. They’re looking up at me. Beyond them, at the bottom of the ravine is a narrow stream, snaking through the wilderness. As far as I can see it is green and peaceful and quiet. Spring time in the forest. And yet I am exploding apart, one cell at a time. I am being torn into tiny splinters.

I sink to my knees and cover my face.

All along I’ve said to myself this wasn’t what I had expected. All along I’d questioned this process and what it was doing to me and the other trainees. But now…now those questions, those concerns, pale in comparison to what I’m facing. What has happened, what I’ve learned about the people I trusted most, has completely obliterated my soul. I see now, clearly, that I came into this a wide-eyed, innocent,
clueless
little girl. Quick to question some things (such as the existence of the Elect and George’s training methods) but also blindly trusting of Jay and Mattie.

All along I’d trusted the wrong people. And why was that? Because they were nice to me. Because they were nice and because, in Jay’s case, he made me feel something I’d never felt before.

What a fucking fool I’ve been.

Angry now, I stand.

They’ve played me. Why? For their amusement? Or for some other reason?

I have questions. Lots of them. But do I bother asking Jay and Mattie? What are the chances they’ll answer truthfully?

I swivel, looking down.

Mattie and Jay are on their way up, climbing the same path I’d taken. Jay’s gaze meets mine. I narrow my eyes, telling him I despise him. I’m not that silly little girl who will blindly follow him into the dark anymore. He won’t ever play me for a fool again.

As they reach the top, I pull out the gun Henry gave me and aim it at Jay’s head. I hook my finger over the trigger.

One squeeze would end everything. Just one. Small. Squeeze.

Jay lifts his hands. So does Mattie. Jay doesn’t look scared. He fucking should be. He should be pissing his pants.

“You want to shoot me,” he states.

My finger muscles tense. “I do.”

“If you’re NDA, you should,” he says, nodding.

I glance at Mattie. She’s behind him, looking slightly nervous, her gaze hopping back and forth between me and Jay.

“What do you mean
if
?” I snap. “Of course I’m NDA. You trained me.” I thump my chest with my hand. “I am NDA. I have the bruises to prove it. I’ve suffered and bled for the NDA.”

“Have you? You’ve bled for
them
? Or for your family?” Jay asks. What is he trying to do now? Is he trying to talk his way out of the death sentence he deserves? The one I
should
hand out but don’t know if I can? “All along you’ve said you’re doing this for your family. For the money and what that would do for them.”

Shame and guilt tug at my nerves. I did say that. But I hadn’t meant that was the only reason I’d joined the NDA. “That first day I chose the NDA over the other agencies. Any of those agencies would have paid me. And I know they wouldn’t have been this difficult,” I say. “I chose the NDA because I felt I could do the most good here. I could support the work the other agencies are doing, so that maybe, someday, everyone could live like the people do in Middleton. My parents. My children, if I have any. Their children.”

“And that’s our goal too.” He slowly lowers his hands. So does Mattie, though she doesn’t move closer to me. She doesn’t trust me as much as Jay does. Smart girl. “When you learned how the other trainees had been living all this time, while you, your family, and everyone you know in Riverview struggled, didn’t you feel you’d been robbed of something you deserved too?”

I did. I had felt jealous.

But now I’m angry, so angry there is no way I can admit anything to Jay. I’m afraid he’s trying to manipulate me. So instead of responding, I shrug.

“Eva, we aren’t the enemy,” he tells me, his voice gentle, soothing.

The image of the compound burning, dead bodies strewn everywhere flashes in my mind. “Not the enemy? You killed all those people.”

“People who are fighting to keep humanity repressed, compliant,” He says. “How dare we want more, right? How dare we want
real
prosperity for all, not the useless promise of it. How dare we want peace for all, not just for the people who do what the Amiga dictates. How dare we want safety and security and freedom.”

My head was spinning. I hear his words. They make sense. And yet, so did everything I’d been told in school, about the Amiga, and about America before the Great Decimation. That world had been wonderful, in a great many ways, but in history class I’d been taught it had also been horrific. There’d been wars, death, disease, civil unrest. My parents were barely old enough to remember those times, but they remembered some things. The good. The cars. The movies. The music. I lowered the gun. “But you’d killed them, Jay. You killed them all.”

“We only killed the ones we had to. At the end of training all NDA recruits are implanted with a chip. That chip changes them, infects them, like a virus. They can no longer think like a human. They can no longer rebel. They are drones.”

“But you—“

“I was able to avoid injection.”

Computer chips. Drones. Rebellions. Death. It’s all too much. I wish I could go back in time, to the day before the Exam. When I’d been blissfully unaware of all of this. When I knew my future and was content with it. Now I’m not content with anything. I know nothing. I understand nothing. “I don’t know what to do…”

“Eva, I know you’re confused. I was too, when I first learned of the PAOSS. The truth is we’ve all been brainwashed by the Amiga. We’ve all been told it’s better, safer, for them to make the decisions for us, to dictate to us how we live. Because they only think; they don’t feel. They make choices based upon logic, not emotion. But it’s not always better. Sometimes our leaders need to feel. And the Amiga cannot ever do that. We shouldn’t be slaves to a bunch of cold, heartless machines. It should be the other way around. We should be free to fuck up, to make mistakes, to live our imperfect, human lives. To make choices.”

I slowly sink to the ground.

What do I believe?

I cradle my head in my hands. As I inhale, the scent of life fills my nose. Grass, trees, damp earth. To me it is the most beautiful smell in the world. It’s the smell of new life, of springtime and the promise of renewal and hope. It’s the smell of imperfection and death too. Of plants and animals dying, turning to dirt.