Collide (Entangled Teen) (The Taking Book 3) (9 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Jackson and I grab Vill and Gretchen the next morning, explain our intentions, and then seek out Myers. Now that the plan is in place, I’m eager to begin. We decided not to tell the others about my run-in with Zeus. Though Jackson wouldn’t say I’d dreamed the encounter, I’d begun to doubt myself. Maybe I’d been sleepwalking. That happens, right? I don’t want to cause false alarm, not when we’re already on edge.

Myers is by the same T-screen from the day before when we find him, watching as it flashes image after image.

“Looking for something?” I ask as we near.

He gives me a half smile. “Yeah, and seeing nothing.” Then his gaze travels beyond me to the others and his forehead creases. “Is everyone all right?”

“I’ll heal you if you still want it. And anyone else that’s willing.”

Several Ops around us take notice and start over, their expressions cautious but excited.

I open my mouth to address them, when Myers reaches out to stop me. “Not here,” he whispers, nodding toward a tall warehouse door against the back wall. We make our way outside, the bright sun above blinding, giving the impression of easier times. I try not to scowl at it as I glance around at the dying land.

Myers waves his arms for the crowd to draw near, and as he does, I take a quick count of how many have followed us. Ten? Twenty? More? I hadn’t realized so many were listening.

“Listen up, because I won’t repeat this again,” Myers says. “As you all know, the Ancients could arrive any day now. We’ve talked with Ari and her team and feel the best course of survival is to allow her to heal us, effectively making us half-breeds.” A combination of gasps and excitement rips through the group, and I try to keep my head high. I don’t want to see the fear I know is on some of their faces. Regardless of what they’ve been told, some of them still view us as different. And different is often bad.

An Op in the front raises her hand, her expression stoic. “Will this guarantee our lives? Will we live if we do this?”

I start to answer when Myers interrupts. I glare at him. Clearly someone has an ego problem. “There are no guarantees. Ancients can die, just as we can die. I’m not trying to guarantee survival. But this will give us a fighting chance.”

I can see the hit some of the Ops take at these words. It’s suggestive. It implies Ancients are stronger, more capable—better. But egos aside, they know he’s right.

I step forward, eager to have Myers behind me instead of speaking over me. “This isn’t something I intend to force on any of you. Before we do it, I need to ensure each of you is ready. That you want this. That you will have no regrets. I would say take your time to decide, but there isn’t time. The war could begin in days or hours.”

A collective silence fills the space, ominous and riddled with too many emotions for me to make out. Fear. Resolve. Anger. Excitement. They are all there. “I can feel your thoughts, your emotions, what’s giving you pause. I sense your fear, your worry, your anger. These emotions are what make us human. Regardless of whether xylem runs through your body, you are still human. Never forget that.”

A moment passes, and then the woman who spoke up before steps up. “I’ll go.”

I glance at Myers. I had assumed he would want to go first, and I’m right. I can see it in his face, feel it in his hesitation. He wants to know what he’s getting his team into. I focus back on the Op in front of me. “I think Lead Op Myers should start. And I’m not the only one who can heal you. Jackson and Vill can as well.” Her eyes skirt over to the guys, and I see the uneasiness there. “But I’m willing if you’d prefer I do it, of course.”

Myers steps up in front of me, a head taller and uncomfortably close. His eyes dip down to me. “Whenever you’re ready,” he breathes, and then Jackson cuts in between us.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll turn you,” Jackson says. “Ari, how about you handle the women, and Vill and I can handle the men?”

I nod to him, relieved that he’s with me. That we’re a team. “Okay.” I motion for the female Op to join me to the side, but all eyes are on Myers, watching, waiting.

Jackson tenses as he reaches out to take Myers’s hand.

“Dude.” Myers’s face scrunches up.

Jackson sighs. “It’s this or your head. You choose.”

Myers nods okay, and then we watch as a slow light begins in Jackson’s hand, building on itself like lava, curling and flowing, as though not yet sure how to proceed. And then the light grips Myers’s hand and for a moment shock finds his face, but then he feels the warmth, the sureness, the way it coats every thought and fear. Suddenly, everything in the world is okay and right and clear. Muddled thoughts become focused. Worries vanish. Reflexes that were weak feel tight and ready. It’s overwhelming, yet perfect in every way. I remember when I was healed. How even in my injured stupor, I knew that I was stronger, in both body and mind, than ever before.

Jackson steps away from Myers, and all eyes are on him and then Myers. Curiosity sparks from those around me.

“How do you feel?” I ask.

Myers hesitates for a moment, his eyes darting around. His vision is already improving.

“It can take time to move through your body, for your reflexes to adjust.”

Jackson shakes his head. “No, it shouldn’t. I gave him much more than I gave you when I healed you. He should feel the change within moments.”

And then Myers darts down the dirt road, gone in a flash, and I jump back, scared that we’ve made a horrifying mistake. Scared that he’s freaked out and is about to do something to hurt himself or some else. Then he reappears, a giant smile on his face as he bursts into laughter.

“This is just…” He shakes his head. “Amazing. Absolutely amazing. Thank you,” he says to Jackson.

Jackson shrugs uncomfortably, and then we’re going from Op to Op, changing each of them, watching for their reactions, steadying those who feel uneasy—like being spun around and waiting on your head to adjust—and taunting those who are eager to test their new abilities. It’s completely unlike the humans on Loge. These people are all trained fighters. They already know how to use their minds and bodies as weapons. We’ve just given them a massive power boost.

I only hope we’ve made the right decision.

After we’ve healed everyone, Cybil and Dad separate them into groups to run through some basic Op drills. Myers steps up beside us, watching as they fly through the exercises, standing one moment, kicking before you can blink. The speed is undeniable, but that’s only a fraction of their capabilities now.

“Do you think you can teach them to harness their minds like you can?” Myers asks.

I watch the Ops move, noting the ones who push their abilities and the ones who hold back—some because they’re hesitant, others because they’re still loyal to their human side. They don’t want to admit, even to themselves, that being Ancient is what’s making them stronger now.

“Honestly? I don’t know. I tried teaching the half-breeds on Loge, but it isn’t easy. The human mind is fixed to believe we function a certain way. Being Ancient changes everything. Changes how we see, how we feel, how we act. Eventually, it will alter how they think, but for now, the mind acclimates slower than our muscles and senses. It takes more convincing.”

“Then convince them.”

Jackson’s rage sparks beside me, bright red and bursting to life. “I think we’ll be the ones giving the orders from now on. You may be half Ancient now, but you are still a baby here. You wouldn’t stand a chance against any of us. Not yet. And if you want to be able to fight Zeus’s army, you’ll need to listen to us.”

Myers crosses his arms. “You mean listen to
you
.”

Jackson’s back tightens, and I interrupt before they decide to do something childish like arm wrestle. “Jackson’s the most trained military Ancient here. He should lead, alongside you, since you already know these Ops. The ones you feel are most intelligent will come train with me.”

Jackson and I separate from the rest shortly after, eager to be alone with our thoughts. With each other.

He closes the curtain to my room. “I can’t stand that guy.”

I almost laugh. “He’s a lot like you were when I first met you.”

He blanches like the idea makes him sick. “I wasn’t like that. All arrogance, unwilling to admit someone else could help me.”

At this I burst out laughing. “You were exactly like that.”

“Is that right?” He tugs me against him, kissing my neck easily, then leans away to look at me. “Are you all right? You seem distant. Are you still thinking about your dream?”

I shrug. “I just wonder what Zeus has planned.”

Jackson kisses my forehead. “You know there isn’t much we can do about that, right? We can’t guess his strategy. All we can do is prepare to fight.”

I tilt my head up to him, and he runs his hands over my face and into my hair. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You never have to find out.” And he leans down, his lips connecting with mine, soft, gently working their magic to soothe my worried mind. We stay this way for as long as possible, getting lost in each other, and then I hear someone approaching and pull away just as my dad calls through the curtain, “Ari, can I have a moment, please?”

“I’ll just go check on Vill and Gretchen,” Jackson says, leaving Dad and me alone.

Dad waits until Jackson is out of earshot and then focuses back on me. “Ari, I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I would like for you to heal me.”

My head snaps up, my eyes wide. “What? Dad, you can’t—”

“I know how you must feel hearing this, but the same reasons that you turned all those Ops outside are still relevant to me. I know war, Ari. I know Zeus. If I’m going to be the valuable resource that I am, I need you to turn me.”

I see the resolve in his eyes and know there is no way for me to talk him out of this. He’s my father. My hero. I won’t deny him this. I step up beside him and take both his hands. “I love you, Dad.”

His gaze drops to me. “I love you, and I’m so proud of you.” And then light spills from both my hands, seeping into his, but he never changes his expression as many of the others had outside. He isn’t afraid. He’s ready. And I realize, through him, through Jackson, through everything I’ve experienced, so am I.

I’m ready.

Chapter Sixteen

I knock on Myers’s office door a few minutes later with new determination. In my mind, I see our army facing Zeus, see his surprise when he realizes we’ve outsmarted him. A smile breaks across my face, and for the first time, I see us winning. We will be a new species on Earth when it’s all done—a better species, taking the best from both, blending us into a group that doesn’t see our differences, but the strengths on each side.

I bang again on Myers’s door, this time louder.

“What?” Myers shouts from inside.

I push it open and scowl at him. “You know, people would like you better if you weren’t such a jerk.”

He smirks. “Who says I care if people like me?”

I shake my head and draw a breath. I didn’t come here to argue, but he makes it tough. “I want to go back to that town. I want to turn those people, to help them.”

Myers crosses his arms and swivels in his chair, regarding me. “You have the biggest hero complex I’ve ever seen. You realize it’s going to get you killed, don’t you?”

I cross my own arms. “Who says I want your opinion?”

He smirks again; clearly he has no other facial expression. “All right, then, let’s go.”

We start out his office, when he stops short at the appearance of Jackson, leaning against the wall.

“He’s going?” he asks, tossing a thumb at Jackson. Clearly, their new likeness didn’t extend to their opinions of one another.

“I go where she goes.”

Myers grins. “How sweet.”

Jackson takes a step forward. “You’ve been an Ancient for half a day. Do you really think you stand a chance against me?” He glances down at him and flexes his arms over his chest. “Just give me a reason.”

I sigh heavily. “Can we stop this already? We need both of you. And we can’t afford to fight among ourselves.” Jackson’s glare doesn’t waver, hate rolling off him for Myers. “Please,” I say to him.

Jackson retreats back and cocks his head at Myers. “Fine. After you, then.”

We take a truck into town, and Myers parks just off the broken street. We step out, but no one comes out to greet us. I stare from store to store, each of them quiet. Empty. And then I listen harder, and from a distance, I catch the faint cry of a woman. She isn’t crying because she’s scared or because she’s in pain—she’s sad. Overwhelmingly so. So sad she’s cried out all her tears, and now her body knows nothing else to do than to shake, her voice whispering an endless plea.

I start walking without saying a word to Myers or Jackson. I know they can hear her, too. We walk beyond the stores, and sure enough, in the field beyond the stores, there’s a crowd circling something, their emotions all so dark it’s like looking at one blob of black, feeling one wave of sadness.

I swallow hard, searching their minds, and then I catch a name: Lucy.

“Who’s Lucy?” I ask Myers.

His face twists in worry. “Margo’s daughter. She’s seven.”

I speed up, eager to get to the crowd to see what happened, and then we’re standing inside the circle, staring at the mound of dirt in its center, a tiny cross made of wood on top of it like a headstone. I’ve only ever seen anything like this in my history tablets. Back in Sydia, bodies were always cremated.

Myers walks over to a woman, and I know now that she was the one I’d heard crying. “What happened, Margo?”

She starts to shake harder, her eyes clenched tightly. “I…she…” Then she bursts into fresh tears, her mourning hitting me square in the chest, knocking me back. I feel her thoughts, her pain, the anguish she’ll never survive. Lucy was her only child. And then I hear her thought—
First Mark, now Lucy…

Her husband died in the neurotoxin release. He’d been healed.

Myers motions for me to come help, and I step up, wrapping my arm around her as he walks over to talk to a few of the others. “What happened?” he asks, his voice low.

An older man shakes his head. “We aren’t really sure. Lucy went outside to play, and Margo called her to come in for dinner. When she didn’t come, Margo went to search for her and found her body beside the road. She…” He covers his mouth, and I can see that he, too, wants to cry. “She looked like all the life had been sucked out of her. Shriveled and white and—”

My head jerks over. “What did you say? Tell me again. Tell me exactly how she looked.”

Myers shoots me a look. “Not now, Ari. They’re—”

“No, Ari’s right,” Jackson says. “This is important.”

The old man swallows hard, but it’s Margo who speaks up. “She looked like a ghost, her face frozen in fear, her skin shriveled and pale. It was like her soul had been stripped, her blood drained.” She shakes, and I take her hand, glancing over her head at Jackson, who nods as he separates from the crowd and runs a perimeter of the area.

Like the life had been sucked from her body. Oh, no…

I leave Margo and motion for Myers to join me away from the others.

“What was that about?” he asks.

“Lucy was Taken to death. I’m sure of it.”

He cocks his eyebrow. “Taken?”

“Just like we healed you by giving you xylem, an Ancient can take life as well. We can absorb life and energy from humans. Zeus ordered several Taking attacks on humans just before the neurotoxin released. He was trying to scare Parliament into agreeing to keep their pact for coexistence.”

“So, what you’re saying is—”

“I’m saying either the Ancients are already here, or one of your Ops decided to go on a killing spree. Which is it?”

Myers jumps back, immediately on the defensive. “My team would never hurt a child! They’d never hurt any of these people!”

“Then they won’t mind being questioned by me.”

“Myers, do you know what happened to Lucy?” Carl, the man with the knife the first time we were here, edges closer, awe and horror mixed on his face. And that’s when I notice they’re all staring at us.

Myers looks to me, and I don’t want to tell them this, to cause more alarm, but maybe they need to know so they’ll realize why they need to let us heal them. They need to know what’s out there, and only through becoming a half-breed do they stand a chance. I hold my head higher and address them, ignoring the pang in my chest when I catch Margo’s eye. “We believe she was Taken to death by an Ancient.” They all speak at once, fear building, taking over everything else. “I’m so sorry for your loss, and there is nothing I can say to ease the pain. But if you hope to survive this war, you have to be ready to make drastic and difficult decisions. Now. Time isn’t our friend anymore.”

“Which is why,” Myers says, breaking in, “most of my crew, including myself, asked Ari and her friends to heal us, effectively making us half-breeds.”

Carl looks at Myers, and then his eyes go wide. “You’re Ancient now?”

“I’m still human, but yes, I now have xylem in my body. I am faster now. Stronger. More capable.”

“But there are other benefits, too,” I say, stepping over to a patch of dying grass that had grown on the edge of the field. I close my eyes and position my hands over it, feeling each blade, helping them wake up again. The power in my hands strengthens as I command them to stand back up. To live. To breathe again. When I open my eyes, the once brown and yellow grass is now a vibrant green. A gasp courses through the crowd, and I turn back to them. “And it isn’t just grass. I can make virtually anything grow. Anywhere. And so could you…if you allow us to heal you.” I can see the uncertainty in their eyes, the fear, but there is also something else—the need to survive, the realization that unless we turn them many of them are already dead, just like Lucy.

It takes less time to convince them than the Operatives, and in minutes they are lined up in front of Jackson and me, ready to receive xylem, ready to live. That’s the difference between the Ops and these regular citizens. The Ops have never known what it’s like to starve, to feel the claws of death already latched on, ready to sink into your soul and rip it away. These people have lived beside death for too long. They want a chance to live, and they’ll do whatever is necessary to secure that chance.

I spend the next hour trying to teach them how to nourish the land, how to grow fruits and vegetables so they can survive, though I know most of them will never master the skill. It took months for me to learn, Vill even longer. Still, I have to give them something. A part of me wants to teach them to fight, too, to give them that extra layer of hope, but they aren’t the fighters in this war. We are.

And it’s time we move on to the next base. Time to finish our plan.