Violet Path (28 page)

I was pleased. “You won’t regret this,” I reassured him.

Maxime kicked my side, and I spun to kick his shoulder, but he blocked me. He tried to hit my stomach with his blade, but I brought my sword down and pushed his away. He then elbowed and tripped me, but I rolled and tripped him. We both jumped back onto our feet and faced each other.

“Good,” he said.

We kicked, punched, twirled, fell, and hit blades attack after attack. No matter the cold weather, sweat trickled down our faces. I struggled to just stay on my feet.

As we moved around the camp, a crowd had followed us to the long tables where Maxime kicked my sword out of my hands. I immediately felt paralyzed and panicked, but he kept attacking. His eyes turned black. I started to stumble as his attacks became faster and more powerful. My heart raced as his blade kept passing inches away from my chest.

“Your eyes are black,” I told him quietly so the others wouldn’t hear. “Maybe we should stop.”

Instead, Maxime darted toward me, grabbed me by the neck, and swung me against a tree. He held his blade across my throat, his arm pressing against my neck, and I couldn’t breathe. I tried to push him off, but it was only a waste of energy. I couldn’t speak or call for help. As if struck by lightning, Maxime’s eyes flashed to a radiant blue, he let go of me, threw the sword so that it stood erect in the ground, and walked away. I collapsed onto the frozen snow. My lungs burned as I took in as much air as I could. Ryan and Nick ran up to me followed by Sam.

“That was incredible!” Ryan exclaimed, ignorant of the danger and how I had just skimmed the ring of death.

“Are you all right?” Sam asked worriedly, and I nodded, still speechless.

“What was that about? Andrew looked furious,” Nick said.

I ignored my friends and ran off to catch up with Maxime. He was heading into the forest.

“Go away!” he yelled before I said anything.

I pressed forward, but he wouldn’t look at me. He stopped. “Go back.” His voice trembled with anger.

“Who programmed you?” I knew it was bad timing, but when was it the right time to ask such a question?

“Never ask me that!” he screamed as his eyes grew a deeper shade of black.

I stayed put, terrified.

“How else can I tell you to stay away from me? Don’t you understand that I was about to slice your throat, if not squeeze the life out of you? I can still feel your blood between my fingers. Aren’t you scared? You’re like a child trying to pet a tiger, assuming it’s just like a kitten. I can hurt you, and I probably will unless you stay away!” Maxime had lost control and threw his arms in the air as he hollered.

“I barely controlled myself,” he continued. “What if I can’t next time? No, there won’t be a next time. Stay away!”

“I refuse to avoid you. Why do you keep blaming yourself? That wasn’t your fault. I talked you into it.”

“I agreed to it and that was almost your death.” Maxime looked into my eyes. “Why don’t you understand that I’m programmed to kill you?” His voice was calmer, but his eyes were still drowning in rage like a blue flame.

“Because you’re not. If you want to kill me so badly then what’s stopping you? You can’t bring yourself to strangle me when I’m only an inch away.”

He closed his eyes. “You’re insane! I want to kill you, and you come up to me and tell me to!”

“I didn’t tell you to kill me. I just don’t understand why you want to kill but don’t.”

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with.” His voice darkened.

“Then tell me.”

“Imagine being shot fifty times in the chest, being burnt over and over again, being cut non-stop, feeling a pulse in your hand that wants to destroy, hearing a voice in your head whispering ‘death,’ drowning in thoughts of wanting to see, feel, and taste blood, wanting to end it all. Imagine an addiction to poison and pain. Imagine dying every moment only to be born again with the same curse.”

I shriveled up at his words.

“Imagine drinking blood only to drown in it. Imagine knowing that your desire is ashes, because the one set to control you is sucking your life. I keep saying, ‘imagine,’ but you can’t. You can’t even grasp any part of what I just said, because you’ve never felt it, simply because it is you. It’s what you are to me: a burning target with a loaded gun pointed right at it. It strangles from the inside out until reality is only a blur. It crawls beneath your skin!

“You ask what you are dealing with. You are only the cause, the injury, the torturing desire, but never the guilt, the hurt, or the act. The innocent parasite, and like a warm hand cannot hold snow without it shifting into a puddle, I cannot have you near me without wanting to hear the cracking of your neck.”

He paused for a moment. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that. Forget it. I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything. It’s not your fault. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got carried away. I can’t tell anyone else that. I’m so sorry . . .” Maxime rambled with apology after apology.

I couldn’t listen anymore. I was completely aware of how senseless I was, but something inside of me still trusted him. Maybe it was love. And then I felt awful, terribly awful. I was making his life miserable, all because I couldn’t selfishly let him go.

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to reach out, grab his hand, and rip out the chip or program or whatever it was that was embedded in his skin. I placed my hand on his shoulder.

He stumbled backward and caught himself on a tree. He slowly dug his hands into the trunk, causing his hands and fingers to bleed.

I took a step forward but he yelled, “Stay back!” All of his muscles tensed, fighting each other for control. His body trembled as the veins in his neck bulged. Tears ran down his cheeks.

I wanted to help, but he was the hero, not me. He had always come through when I was in pain, but I was only elongating his. I knelt beside him before he could push me away. I placed my hand on his shoulder, feeling his muscles contract as he bit his lip in agony. I closed my eyes, kissed his cheek, and stood. “I’m sorry,” I whispered into the cold air.

I walked away. It was the only thing I could do.

Chapter 25

The icy ground cracked beneath our feet as we headed toward Maria. I didn’t recognize anyone and was relieved when I saw Sam. We were told to line up, hover-boards in hand.

As we approached the lake, Daniel, our group leader, told us to file in a line and cross the ice-covered lake one-by-one on our hover-boards. I huddled next to Sam, shivering in the winter breeze.

We were almost halfway across when Sam, who had been floating in front of me, fell off his hover-board, hit the frozen lake, and broke through the ice and into the water. There was an odd whizzing noise right before he fell. I didn’t know what had caused him to fall, but it almost looked like he had been shot. Everyone rushed over, hovering over the black hole in the ice where Sam had fallen. I waited to see if someone would jump in, but everyone was petrified, waiting and hoping Sam would break the surface.

I couldn’t wait any longer and dived in.

My spine felt like it was splintering as I dove into the icy water. I opened my eyes. A couple of broken rays managed to slither through the thick ice sheet above me. I was scared, every part of me shrinking like frozen elastic. But I needed to find Sam.

I lost my shoes as I kicked to push myself deeper. I started to make out rock silhouettes, and I saw Sam sinking sluggishly toward the bottom like an iron weight. My heart slammed against my chest uncontrollably. I swam as fast as I could, praying I had enough air in my lungs, and grabbed his arm. I pushed off one of the rocks, thrusting Sam upward, but the sharp rock pierced through my foot. The pain almost caused me to take in water, but I focused. I needed to get Sam out of here alive. I shoved him forward, following the light from the hole up above.

When we got to the surface, I pushed him out of the hole, hoping someone would pull him out. My head was spinning.
Please, someone help us.
Suddenly, I felt Sam being lifted. I immediately broke the surface and gasped for air. My hands slid on the smooth surface, unable to keep me out of the water. I reached out over and over again, only to scratch my hands across the ice. I was starting to sink back in. Someone grabbed my arm and pulled me up, my body skidding on the ice on my way up, tearing my skin. The frozen air scorched my lungs as it pushed them open. Sam was lying on the ice, and all of the soldiers were surrounding him. There was blood all over him, mostly coming from his leg and his chest. Someone was attempting to revive him.

“He’s breathing,” said Daniel softly. “What’s your name?” he asked, and I felt all of the soldier’s eyes fall upon me.

“Alex,” I stuttered out of embarrassment.

“Well, Alex, you just saved his life, but he’s still injured. We’re closer to The Shadows, so you’ll go back with Sam. Try to keep him stable, and we’ll send help from Maria. We’ll take your board to bring all of the suits back, and you can take his. Move out!” Daniel barked.

“Sir, shouldn’t someone help them?” one of the older men beside me offered.

“It’s not far and you, just like everyone here, needs to be fitted for their uniforms today, not tomorrow, but today. We’ll have to guess their sizes . . .” He let his sentence linger in the air as he started to realize how pathetic his excuse was. “Alex, all you have to do is cross half the lake. We’ll put Sam on his board, so that you don’t have to carry him. It’s that simple. Got it?”

I nodded although I strongly disagreed with his decision.

He left me with Sam when I could hardly stand on my own and took away my board. I was helpless. While the soldiers rushed off, I ran by the hover-board’s side, moving it along. I hurried as much as I could while Sam was gasping for air. My feet hurt with every step, first blistered by the ice, then cut by the twigs. Time felt like an eternity as I headed back to camp. I needed Sam to live.

When I reached The Shadows, I ran around screaming for help. The camp was deserted. I quickly brought him to my cabin, then laid him on my bed. His blood stained my sheets and my floor. He was losing too much for me to just wait around and apply pressure to his wounds.

“Take this. You earned it. I want you to have it,” Sam whispered as he held a silver dagger. It was stainless and beautiful, a lion carved on the grip. Its mane was alive and majestic. Sam’s eyes threatened with determination to hand it to me.

“I’ll be right back. Relax. You need to rest.” I was crying.

“The chances of me surviving are slim; you and I both know that. I’m a doctor and trust me, this is a lot of blood.” He was barely breathing. I examined him quickly as I gathered the sheets in a bundle, found a bullet hole in his chest, and immediately pressed the cloth on it to absorb the blood. How had he been shot? His leg was also bleeding at his thigh, probably from falling into the water or from the ice. I took my clothes from Tamizeh out from under the bed and wrapped them around his leg.

“That doesn’t matter. I had worse and pulled through. So will you.” I ran out before he could respond.

I found Anton leading the soldiers back from their morning jog. I limped over to him as fast as I could. “Sam is hurt. He needs help. Daniel is sending help. He’s in my cabin. We were . . .” I was out of breath. The world around me was whirling.

“Alex?” Maxime said. His eyes were an intense blue. “What happened? Are you all right?”

“Sam . . .” I couldn’t finish my sentence. My eyelids fell, my knees collapsed, and I dropped into Maxime’s warm, sheltering arms.

I awoke in Maxime’s cabin. The light was dim as I lay on his bed wrapped in thick covers. I tried to move, but couldn’t. A threatening shock ran through me, as if my limbs were being twisted like water rung out of a towel. A needle was taped to my right elbow and connected to a plastic bag that hung above my head. I didn’t like the idea of being medicated.

“You’re awake!” Maxime smiled. He was standing by the door, leaning against the wall. I tried to sit up to welcome him, but he said, “Don’t even consider it.” He pulled up a chair by the bed and sat down.

“How’s Sam?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

“That’s the problem. I can’t lecture you about being careful or anything else for that matter after you dive into a frozen lake to save Sam. He’s fine, fully recovered. He just had a bullet under his left lung and a gash on his leg. We’re looking into the shooting. It could have easily been another attempt on your life, so you need to really look out. Megan wasn’t able to do much for you because your injuries are mostly superficial, but she healed your feet. You need to rest. Most of the scratches are gone, but not all. You really need to be careful.” Maxime smiled.

“Why do you do this?” I asked.

“Do what?”

“Everything . . . lead The Shadows?”

“Because no one else wants to.”

“I’m sure someone else does.”

“No one wants to hold every life in their hand, know every soldier they condemn, or make straining decisions. You shouldn’t think of this. Rest.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“Because I have to.”