Hold: Hold & Hide Book 1 (12 page)

A few men in orange and black shoved me aside. I inhaled. Waited. Retreated into better memories as people swarmed around me, pulling at me, asking me questions I couldn’t answer. 

She died. 

And the next day Blake told me that she left a note.

Not your typical suicide note. She hated me and she made that known. Her last letter was a journal entry in her diary all about how crazy and mean and vindictive I was and how she wanted to hang out with me one-on-one to try to love me and help me learn to love people. She said I wanted to steal Blake and everything ridiculous like that. No one could assume that I pushed her though, because she left the journal in an envelope on Blake’s porch before our walk. He was the only one who ever saw it, besides me. She didn’t want me to die or go to the correctional facilities. She just wanted to take him from me. She wanted him to think I was a monster. And apparently her own life was worth that goal. 

He said he didn’t believe it. He promised he believed me. But I always doubted and wondered.

The ice weakened beneath me and I knew I’d die. My muscles already tightened so much that I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. 

“Blake,” I called. “Blake, I know it wasn’t you. I know this isn’t you. Don’t regret it. Don’t worry about me.”

I scrunched my face to avoid crying and the ice broke away, sending me into the sharp water. I’d definitely be dead before twenty minutes. I opened my eyes under water, but couldn’t see. Pushing myself toward the surface, I felt for an opening in the ice, but my body couldn’t handle the tiny knives piercing my body. I didn’t have the strength to make it out. 

My heart rate slowed and I heard my pulse in short bursts as I let myself drift downward. Red’s words played in my mind, “He won’t take care of you, but I will.”

Something crashed and a man’s figure appeared beside me in the water. Red? He grabbed my arm and kicked his legs, using his other arm to pull us both back to air. I couldn’t see his face as he pushed me toward the surface. Couldn’t see anything. My eyes were open, I swore it, but everything turned black. 

I hated black.

And white. I hated, loathed, completely, utterly one-hundred percent despised white. White walls. White blankets. White. White. White. I wanted to mess it up. Ruin every last bit of pristine with streaks of color and dirt and life. This was not life.

I stared at the ceiling after giving my blood sample, desperately trying to remember any little detail about the day before, anything to explain my lack of energy and why Red kept coming in my room to place fresh warm blankets on me. 

I tried to remember my first day here or even the second day, but I couldn’t. Only fragments of memories came to me. I remembered a bus and Emily and amazing food. I somewhat remembered a dance and animals and snow, but no details and the more I thought about it the more my heart rate galloped into a bucking frenzy. Josephine would appear and remind me to rest, but every time I closed my eyes I had a nightmare and I didn’t want another.

Eyes open, the thumping in my chest accelerated once again as Red came in and covered me with the fifty thousandth round of blankets. 

“What happened to me?” I asked, my voice raspy and desperate. 

He waved his hands. “Don’t worry about it. You had a bad reaction to the snow, that’s all. You’re okay now. I’m taking care of you.”

“Where’s Blake?”

“You mean 201?”

“Sure.”

“I don’t know. I’m only in charge of you.”

“In charge of me?”

“That’s my job.” 

He tucked the covers around me and I loosened them as soon as he finished. I expected him to leave again, but he sat on my bed and rubbed my feet. I slipped them back under the sheets. 

“You don’t have to do that,” I said. 

“I didn’t think I had to.”

I closed my eyes. “Okay.”

“Look at me, Claire.”

My eyelids fluttered as I forced them to stay closed. 

“Claire.”

“You called me Claire.” My eyes opened. “Why’d you call me that?”

He shrugged. 

“You never do that.”

“Look, I need to talk to you about what happened. I didn’t want you to think I was using you or anything and I want to make sure we’re on good terms.” He swallowed. “I meant everything I said that night.”

“Which night?”

“When I brought you back to warm you up.” 

“Don’t remember.” I closed my eyes again. “Not surprising since I remember absolutely nothing nowadays. Great life here. Great experiment. Bettering the world. Bettering our future. So much better, better, better. Well”—I opened my eyes and sat up—“I’m not better. I’m not, okay? I say screw this world and our future. I feel like hell has swallowed me up and spit me back out.”

“Hell? What exactly is hell?”

I raised my eyebrows and gave him the are-you-really-that-dense look, but when I started to explain the concept of hell I forgot. Lost it. Gone into the abyss.

“So, what is it?”

“I can’t remember.” I pressed the bridge of my nose to suppress the beginning of a headache. “I hate this. I can’t remember anything anymore.”

“You remember my name.”

“Yes.”

“And your friend 201.”

“Okay, I get it. I didn’t mean it so literally.”

“Sorry, just trying to help.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” I slinked back down into the bed. “So, what happened between us that you want to talk about?”

“Nothing.” He retouched the blankets, doing his tucking thing again. 

“I don’t like it being so tight.” I wiggled out again. “I mean, thank you for that, but it just doesn’t feel good to me.”

“Bad mood today?” He tapped the wood at the foot of my bed and rose to his feet. “I’ll check on you again soon.”

“I’m fine, Red. Really. Just confused.” I took a sip from the water he set on the bedside table. “Will I get out of my room tomorrow? I never thought I’d say this, but being served meals in bed is getting a little old.”

“I think so.” He opened the door.

“Wait.” I motioned for him to come back and sit. Once he did, I continued, “So, you’re my guide right?” He nodded. “Guide me then.”

He laughed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“What exactly is a guide?”

He rubbed his chin. “I guess just the person who takes care of the next person.”

“That’s it? Why’d you stay? Doesn’t sound very exciting, if you ask me. Did you have a choice between this and home?”

“Yeah.”

“And you chose this?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

He continued rubbing his chin and jaw while staring at the floor. Deep in thought. I watched him for a few seconds, taking in the soft features of his pale face. I spent so much time with Blake who had a very fit body, chocolatey skin, and a mature face. Red looked younger and more gentle. Not less masculine or handsome than Blake, just different. I stared at him as he stared at the floor and I wondered if I’d ever fall in love. My best friend was gorgeous, funny, and amazing in so many ways, but I wasn’t lying to Kendall when I told her that I wasn’t in love with him. Then, Red came into my life with his sweet features and kind demeanor. Still no feelings. No fluttery sensations. No rising body temperature. No excitement or emotion or ... love. 

A little odd now that I thought about it. 

Red walked to the door and turned back to me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Why the sad eyes?”

“Not sad.”

He left the room and I imagined him in my bed the year before. A senior in high school just like me. A twin, again like me. How did he endure a year of blurred memories and headaches? Or did he have a different experience?

I imagined my last day. Would I be given a choice to stay or go? And if so, would I ever choose to stay? Red did. Why? Why would anyone?

Josephine returned. “Time for an educational movie. Enjoy.”

The screen lit up with the title The History of the World, and displayed images of young men at war. The first ten minutes explained how destitute the world became and how war broke out and terrorists rose up. It explained the increase of school shootings and violence until guns were banned and people were subdued. The next hour explained in more detail how the world had become safer and more benevolent since The Order was fully recognized as the international social, economic, and political establishment above all others. Wars ceased and people complied. Bliss. 

At this point, my eyes could no longer stay open no matter how much I tried to force them. History was never my strong suit. 

I dozed off and woke back up at the end of the film.

Josephine came back and I apologized before she spoke.

With a laugh, she said, “That’s perfectly fine. The information was implanted inside of your brain even without watching it.”

“It was? How?”

“You had a procedure the other day. Don’t you remember? A microchip was placed inside of your brain. It’s revolutionary and you’re one of the lucky ones to benefit from it before anyone else. Soon everyone will be given one.”

“Why? We already have one in our wrists.”

“This is more powerful. The chip in your wrist was a stage of preparation and testing for what was to come. What is to come. What has come.” She smiled. “You’ll learn more about it later. Red will be back soon with your dinner and wait until you see what’s for dessert tonight.”

She disappeared and dessert was the last thing on my mind. All I could think about was the microchip in my brain. I didn’t remember getting it or agreeing to it and that worried me. What if the chip was malfunctioning and ruining my brain, my memories, my entire life?

No wonder I had incessant headaches. 

I felt around my head from my neck to my scalp, but couldn’t find any sign of a chip or a scar. Why didn’t they ask me first? Why did they treat me as though I were nothing more than their property? 

I hated it.

I closed my eyes and tried to pull up the information from the movie, just to see if it really was implanted in my mind. 

I recalled the beginning of the film and allowed the images and sounds in my head to carry me all the way to the end of the movie. Not one detail missing. The Order had taken over the world and the people loved it. Peace and harmony stood as a tall, faithful promise from The Order. “Could it be more perfect?” their slogan said. “Yes. And it will be.”

They promised within the next few years to build an even better world. The microchips in our brains would be able to control our actions so that anyone with a malicious thought could be stopped and steered into thoughts of submission and ambivalence. 

Sounded nice on the surface, I’ll give it that, but the more I thought of it the more sickened I became and the idea of that thing being lodged somewhere in my brain freaked me out. I didn’t want to be steered into anything. I wanted to choose between good and evil. I wanted to be myself, even if I was wrong. 

I turned my hands—Audrey’s hands—in front of me, then looked at my window as a flock of birds flew by. I closed my eyes and dreamed, imagining myself as a bird flying away into the clouds.

One beep woke me up and I can’t express how thankful I was for that one, precious, single beep. No assignments today, I hoped. Breakfast. Outside of my room. With other people.