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Authors: Megan Thomason

BOOK: daynight
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I wade out into the ocean and the salt assaults every open wound. Clenching my teeth to keep from screaming, I dive under an incoming wave, and swim out twenty yards to keep the surf from prematurely pushing me to shore. Then I swim south fifty yards to clear the North border of the Eco barrier. I tread water for a few minutes waiting for the right swell.

“Here goes nothing,” I say to the unseen ocean life.

The wave’s a good pick. I swim with all my might to catch the crest, silently pleading with the Gads to deliver me safely on the other side of the barrier.

No such luck. The Gads must side with the SCI. I crash ashore right atop several detonators. They ignite immediately. The water absorbs a chunk of the lethal fumes. Not enough to protect my exposed areas, however. I can feel the skin melting from my arms and back, unprotected by my threadbare party vest. I’m not there for more than a second, however, as the combination of the blast and the next wave catapults me like I’m one of those dudes who flies out of cannons. When I land again, I realize I’ve cleared the remaining detonators, but the damage has already been done. If I’m not found quickly, there’s no question I’ll die. With my last bit of energy, I roll through the sand towards the canyon mouth. I hope the sand can mitigate the effects of the poison. Plus, I don’t want to risk a larger wave sucking me back towards the barrier.

Help arrives quickly. Detonating the barrier must have set off alarms. The rescue team attempts to ask me what happened, but I’m too weak to speak. I can barely breathe, my lungs filled with burning gas. Head’s pounding. Vision’s blurry. Whispers of my bleak situation abound. Unstable heart rate. Severe chemical and sunburns. Scant breath tones and pulse. Unresponsive.

I’m transported on a board and by mule through the canyon. Brad Darcton and Ted Rosenberg await me at the burn unit. They chat while doctors clean and douse me with chemicals to diffuse the poison.
 

“Will he make it?” they ask the doctors.

“It’s too early to say. We’ll do everything we can. But it may not be enough,” one of the doctors replies. Nice that the doctor is so optimistic.
 

“It’s time to have Ethan show her the video and then distract her with a trip back home,” Brad Darcton says to Ted. Ethan? She said she didn’t know him. Was she lying? She certainly knows
some
Ethan by the way she looked at me when I asked her about him.

“You sure? Shouldn’t we wait to play that card until we know if Blake lives or dies?” Ted responds.

“No. We play the card now so that we have her under control if he dies. Ethan’s my pick for her anyway. He’s equally qualified,” Brad says.

“But he’s not all of the Ten’s pick,” Ted says. “Some think you’re biasing the panel because he’s your son.”

“At this point he’s got the vote. Besides, I hardly think you’re in a position to counsel me about Ethan or the girl. If Blake lives, then we’ll see where the girl’s at and adjust our strategy as necessary,” Brad says.

Did I hear that right? Is Ethan the Intern really Brad Darcton’s son and pick for Kira’s Cleaving? It’s too much to take in and I drift off to sleep, ready for the night when I can muck with all of Brad Darcton’s plans.

Have the courage to live. Anyone can die.

Robert Cody

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Kira

Three zips. Two trains. A long mule ride. A short hike. All blindfolded and attached to College Boy.
Obviously the powers that be do not want me to know the route to the exit portal. I spend the time in silent meditation hashing through the pathetic details of my life. And stressing over Blake’s fate. I’m beating myself up for begging to leave Thera instead of waiting to hear whether they find him. Call me a wimp but I can’t. Can’t hide out waiting for a knock on the door bringing bad news or risk a confrontation with Tristan or Briella. What do I even say to them? They have zero memory of the crap they pulled, so I’ll never get an apology. Guys can be real idiots, but what’s Bri’s excuse? Something lame like ‘I saw him first,’ I’m sure. Whatever. I just have to put it out of my mind for a while and enjoy time off this God forsaken planet. Ironic that I left Earth to escape my memories of them and now I’m fleeing Thera to do the same.

Ethan removes my blindfold once we’re well into a dimly lit tunnel.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “Security protocol.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t want the Recruits leaving Thera. You’d have people sneaking off to go out to dinner. Or shop. They might even try to smuggle back in contraband like music or games or something,” I joke.
 

“Funny, yes, we can’t have that,” he says. “Here’s some clothes to change into. You can’t wear your Theran clothes home.” He hands me a bag.

“You expect me to change here? In front of you?” I say, my cheeks flush with color. “I don’t think so.”

“Please, if you want to go home, you’ll do as I ask. I’ll turn away to give you some privacy,” he says. How thoughtful.
 

I partway undress and then peek at Ethan to see if he’s peeking at me, and catch a glimpse of him with his shirt off. He’s changing, too. Wow. I hesitate to take in the vision and allow myself to remember the way I’d felt about him when we first met, and how he took my breath away. A silvery scar on his chest—likely from some sort of surgery—serves as the only blemish on his otherwise perfect body.
 

He finally notices me watching him and we lock eyes for a moment, but then he sees I’m half dressed, swallows hard, bites his lip, and turns away. I quickly finish stripping down and replace my Garden City High uniform with a t-shirt, sweater, pair of jeans, and some flats. All my size, but not my original clothing.
 

“All set,” I say as I hand him the bag filled with my discarded attire. He’s now in low rider jeans, a tight fitting long-sleeved blue t-shirt and knit cap. The look works on him. A garbage bag would work on him. He’s a Darcton, I remind myself. The Ten gave him this assignment. He may or may not be responsible for my friends’ deaths. I can’t allow myself to be attracted to him; need to bury my feelings for his alter ego.
 

“Excellent,” he responds, throwing my bag to the side while keeping his eyes locked on mine. “Let’s go.”

“Thera’s no place like home. Thera’s no place like home. Thera’s no place like home,” I say while clicking my heels together. “Didn’t work. I don’t have the right shoes. Can I get some red sparkly ones?” I frown and cross my arms defensively.

He tries to hide his smile, but his shimmery sapphire eyes defy him. “Sorry, all out, Dorothy. Just walk the corridor and wait for me in the room with the light at the other side.” Even though he’s dressed now, I can’t get the image of half-naked Ethan out of my brain. How can someone so beautiful be spawned by someone so evil?
 

As excited as I am to go home, I can’t believe I have to be chaperoned. By Brad Darcton’s son. The Ten must really not trust me to behave while home. I could cause all manner of trouble for the SCI if I went to the press with my story. The headlines would be killer: ‘Second Chance Institute Front for Zombie Slavery Enclaves on Earth’s Sister Planet’; ‘Aliens Exist—But They’re Really Your Dead Friends.’

To rebel against my orders ever so slightly, I launch into a light jog before doing a couple perfectly executed back hand springs, an aerial, and then a back flip into a large, circular room. The room’s round and paneled in cherry-colored wood. The electric sensation of the tunnel and parched feeling I’d gotten on the way in bothers me less on the way out. I look around and find the place odd. There’s a metal circular staircase that goes down to another level and a lot of seams in the panelling that seem unnatural, although there’s only a single opening where I came out and one doorway which is marked ‘EXIT’ in large red letters.

Ethan’s out of breath when he gets through, so I figure I might as well use that exit and see exactly where I am. Another warehouse in the middle of the ocean? I skip through the doorway and up a windy staircase that leads to a trap door. I push it open, climb a rope ladder, and find myself at the end of a concrete jetty.
 

“I know this place,” I say out loud, looking to my left to see the ocean and my right to see Children’s Beach in La Jolla from the jetty I’m standing on. A wave hits the sea wall and douses me with water. I feel cold for the first time in weeks. The sky is just turning light blue as the dawn breaks and dozens of seals are littered across the beach, less than twenty minutes from my parent’s house. I love to come here to watch the seals, even if it’s a huge controversy for the city. The space had been designated to be a children’s swimming beach before the seals took over. What an odd place for an exit portal. Of course, the portal existed long before La Jolla and the jetty may have been built to help Daynighters get to shore with ease.

“Not cool,” I hear behind me. Ethan’s shaking and looks ten shades paler than he did on Thera.

“I’m sorry that I circumvented your precious Theran security protocol. If you need to, you can take me down a notch on the Circle of Compliance. But, seriously though, I can’t enter through it. And I don’t know where the entrance to it is back on Thera, nor would I rush to get back there if I did know. So, what does it hurt? Besides, you removed my blindfold and I didn’t hear anything about putting it back on,” I say.

“Can I expect this much trouble our entire trip?” he asks as he puts his hands on my shoulders. Despite his mild annoyance with my disobedience, the right side of his mouth is turned upward in a smirk.
 

“Trip? I thought I was coming home for good,” I say, raising my eyebrows. I know it’d never be allowed, but he deserves to be tweaked.
 

“I wish you could stay, but you have yet to fulfill the terms of your contract. So, you will be returning to Thera,” he says. He almost looks sad for me. The guy really doesn’t show a lot of enthusiasm for his job.

“I was just joking,” I say. “You were so much more fun the first time we met. Oh yeah. I forgot. That was just an act.” He grimaces at my reminder of his betrayal.

“I wish it was a joking matter,” he says. “Come on, let’s get some breakfast before we head to your house. We need to get our stories straight.”

Ethan obviously knows La Jolla well as he leads me off the jetty and up the hill towards a swanky hotel buffet breakfast. The walk dries me off and returns some color to Ethan’s cheeks, but he’s still looking a little off. Oddly I feel fine, though to me it feels like dinnertime, not breakfast. But it won’t be the first time I’ve had breakfast for dinner. Yummy. I pile my plate full of eggs, waffles, pancakes, and fruit. And wolf down every bit. It’s not that the food’s bad on Thera—it’s that the selection’s limited and often far too healthy for my liking. He manages to get down some dry toast and a banana, but abstains from the rest.
 

“The return trip’s always easier, but wow, you’re amazing,” he says. The slight twinkle in his eyes as he labels me amazing makes my stomach flutter. I almost buy that he means it about more than my world-traversing skills. Darcton. Darcton. Darcton. Evil. Evil. Evil. I repeat over and over in my head.

“What can I say? For some people, inter-worldly travel’s just in their blood,” I respond. As I stare at him, I’m reminded of his age and something strikes me. “What does your wife or Cleave or whatever you call the girl you told me about think about you playing babysitter to an unCleaved girl? Wouldn’t she be kind of ticked to find out you flirted with me at that party, even if it was part of your
job
?” That brings a huge smile to his face.

“What makes you think I’m Cleaved?” he says, his amusement making the topaz twinkles in his eyes appear to jump out in three-dimensional fashion.

“You’re old. Or older. Obviously over eighteen. You’re Brad Darcton’s son. I’d assume you’d have no choice but to follow the Canon strictly,” I say, as if it’s completely normal to be talking about while I push my remaining food around the plate.

“I’m twenty but am not Cleaved,” he says. I cock my head and scrunch my face as I try to figure it out. “I live here—not on Thera. My dad brought me over when I was fifteen to live with my Uncle Henry. I started college at UCLA at sixteen and got my international relations degree by eighteen. And I just finished my second year of law school at University of San Diego. I spend summers interning for the SCI on Thera. The current plan is for me to go into politics—here.” I note that he’s careful not to say that it’s
his
plan, just
the
plan for him to enter politics. Wow. Bizarre. Brad Darcton created a loophole for his own son.

“Oh, I guess I should have asked you a few more questions that night,” I say. Under my breath I mutter, “About a lot of things.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he says. “I didn’t want to bore you.”
 

Although the details of his life are far from boring, what I really want to ask is about the girl and I can’t let myself do that. Can’t let him see how much he got to me that night. “So, what politically correct story have you concocted for my parents? Cause I’m betting we’re not going with the truth.” I study his face as he takes a couple deep breaths before answering.

“I’m a fellow Recruit in Unit 27. We fell for each other the moment we met and you just couldn’t wait a full year to have your parents meet me. The program has helped put things in perspective for you. Helped you move on,” he says, sharply inhaling and holding his breath as he waits for my reaction.

“And your alternative story is?” I say. “Because I’m not sure I can go along with that one. First, you’re a Darcton. Second, you filmed my ex having sex with my best friend which is disgusting. Third, you may have been responsible for that explosion. Fourth, other than you being incredibly attractive and being able to fake a good conversation, I don’t know you well enough to pull off a pretend relationship. Fifth, I’m in a relationship with Blake. Sixth, I’m going through a lot right now with Blake maybe being dead and the whole ex-best friend debacle. So, please come up with something else.” I don’t mention that my relationship with Blake has mostly been fake with some real undertones as of late, including the surprising declaration that Blake is supposedly falling for me.

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