The Awakening (13 page)

“The only one down here.” Link shrugs. “The best thing about being me? I’m completely under the radar. I can link to kingdom come and the other side has no idea what’s going on. They don’t seem to notice me as part of The Gifting at all. I’m like an undercover agent for the good guys.”

“Link thinks he’s invincible,” Jillian says.

“I don’t think, Jilly-bean. I
know
.”

Reunited

T
he longer Luka’s absence, the stronger my anxiety. The news ends. The Hacky Sack circle grows. Link moves from my couch to Claire’s. The two flirt the same way Luka and Summer used to flirt, back when I was the new girl at Thornsdale. Jillian scoots over to where Link was sitting and explains the hub’s social hierarchy while I half-listen.

“If you thought you escaped high school ridiculousness, think again. Claire is like the queen bee and Danielle and Ashley worship the ground she walks on. If she says jump, they want to know how high. And anybody who doesn’t jump along with them gets the stink eye.” Jillian shifts so that her left leg is tucked beneath her. “You’ll want to be careful around them.”

“Why?”

“Because Link likes you, and in case you haven’t noticed, Claire’s not really one to share a boy’s affection. Especially not one she likes.”

I give her a skeptical look. “He does not like me.”

“He sure is paying attention to you. I’m just saying you should proceed with caution. She gets mean when she feels threatened.”

I look at Claire—the high set of her cheekbones, her flawless complexion, the perfect symmetry of her face, the fluidity of her movements. She has no reason to be threatened by the likes of me.

Jillian explains where the others lie in this odd underground hierarchy—Jose, Declan, Ellen, Rosie, and Bass—then she peppers me with questions that I mostly answer in grunts and nods. After a valiant effort on her part, she gives up on any sort of two-sided conversation and joins the widening Hacky Sack circle. Then Cap rolls into the room and announces lights out in twenty minutes. The circle breaks apart. I remain seated, gnawing the inside of my lip raw while panic rises like a searing hot ball in my throat. If Luka doesn’t return tonight, I’m convinced he won’t return at all. And if that is the case, how will I ever know if his disappearance was voluntary or the result of a sinister encounter up above?

Cap clears his throat. Besides him and a surly-looking Gabe, only Jillian and Rosie remain in the common area. The rest have wandered off to their rooms. “Jillian, why don’t you show Tess her new room? Non set it up for her after dinner.”

I shake my head. Luka’s absence has me feeling like I’m back in the white room at the Edward Brooks Facility. Like I can’t tell what’s real anymore. Perhaps if we had a chance to say more of a goodbye. Perhaps if I had some sort of closure, something more than
don’t reveal too much
, something that would speak to his wellbeing now, I’d be able to make decisions. At the moment, I can’t even breathe.

Cap rolls closer, and I catch myself glaring. He’s the one who grabbed my arm. He’s the one who prevented me from going after Luka. He’s the reason I can’t breathe right now. I stand from the couch. “I need to go.”

“If he doesn’t return by tomorrow, we’ll send Rosie out to look for him.”

No offense to Rose, but it’s not a comforting thought. What could she possibly do to help Luka? And if he
is
in trouble, tomorrow will be too late. I need to figure out a way to convince Cap to let me go right now. The hot ball of panic grows into a boulder. Bad thoughts perpetuate bad thoughts. It’s like a torturous spiral that feeds off itself. What if Luka’s in trouble? What if Luka’s hurt? What if Luka’s crying out for help? What if Luka’s dead? Just as I’m falling into a black hole of terror, a noise sounds through the common room. A glorious, amazing, life-affirming noise.

Knock, knock … knock, knock … knock, knock …

My brain says to run to the door. To sprint toward the sound. My body, however, has frozen in place. And by the time I unfreeze myself and take a few steps forward, Gabe holds up his hand with such silent authority, it freezes me all over again. I look between him and the steel door, my heart punching bruises against my sternum. Why isn’t he answering? What is he waiting for?

Knock, knock … knock, knock … knock, knock …

It’s the second pounding that gets him moving. He unlatches the bolt with a deafening click, then opens the door. Luka stands on the other side. He’s never looked more irresistible. I can’t help myself. Closing the gap between us, I launch myself into his arms. He lets out a short
oomph
as my body collides against his chest, then wraps me in a hug that lifts me off the ground. His lips graze the hollow of my ear. The touch sets my skin on fire. An ocean of warmth pools in my stomach as I tighten my arms around his neck. I never want to let go.

“You okay?” he whispers in a husky voice, one that is for me alone.

I nod into the crook of his neck. I am now.

He lets my body slide down his until my feet touch the ground, and slowly, his arms release me. Oh, but I wish they wouldn’t. I don’t care that we have an audience. All I care is that Luka came back. He didn’t leave me here by myself. He isn’t hurt or dead in an alley. We are together and I’m able to breathe again. I remove my arms from around his neck and pull down the hem of my shirt.

Cap watches us in that same way Dr. Roth used to watch me whenever I explained to him one of my strange symptoms during our weekly therapy sessions—masked intrigue, as though something about our behavior is worthy of noting.

*

I’m dying to talk to Luka—to ask him what happened while he was out and tell him all that I’ve learned since he’s been away. But Cap hands us over to Non, who leads us down the length of the boy’s hallway and drops Luka off at a room at the end.

“I found some clothes from storage that I think should fit you. I usually have a pretty good eye for sizes.” Non looks him up and down, as if mentally measuring him again. “If they’re too big or too small, please let me know. We can find you something different. Bathroom’s down the hall. Breakfast is at eight tomorrow morning. Classes start after.”

And just like that, we’re walking away from the boy I’m desperate to speak with. I look over my shoulder at him and he looks down the hall at me, but Non moves so matter-of-factly, there’s nothing we can do. Lights will turn out in a couple minutes. I’ll be in my hallway, Luka will be in his and according to Rosie, there will be no purpling.

My new dormitory is closest to the antechamber with the boy-girl restrooms. Non gives me the same spiel that she gave Luka and leaves me to myself, inside a room with bare walls and sparse furniture. When her footsteps recede into silence, I sit on the edge of the naked mattress, listening to the faint drip-drip of water somewhere behind my wall. A leaky pipe, I suppose. An empty ache burrows its way inside my heart. I miss my familiar bedroom in Thornsdale. I even miss the blare of Pete’s angry music across the hall. The last pill I took was this morning, which means tonight I could have dreams.

I think about sneaking down the hallway, into Luka’s room. But for all I know, Cap would kick us out for breaking the rules. Now that base feels safe again—with Luka back, I’m in no hurry to get the boot. I set my suitcase next to a faded comforter and matching faded sheets folded into a perfect rectangle at the end of my bed. I make quick work of unpacking my things, setting them inside the dresser drawers alongside the clothes Non picked out for me—all as faded as the sheets. By the time I make my bed, the pressure in my bladder needs to be addressed. I grab my bag of toiletries and sneak out into the hall.

The cement floor is cold against my bare feet as I tiptoe into the darkened antechamber. I make quick work of using the restroom, then slow down considerably when washing my hands at one of the sinks. My hair grows like a weed. It always has. In just a week, my dark roots show in the mirror’s reflection, and although the hair dye box advertised permanency, the vibrant honey has faded from the brown. My face is thinner than normal, which makes my navy blue eyes buggier and my pointy chin pointier. I pull my hair back with a headband and rinse my face and brush my teeth. The normalcy of the routine offers a smidgen of comfort, until I look around at the dank underground bathroom and remember how very far away from home I am.

With fear germinating in my gut, I pack up my toothbrush and face wash. I know we are safe down here. Anna and Fray have hidden our location. No white-eyed men are lurking around the corner. No big burly government officials will drag me away. No nurses are waiting to jab needles into my neck. Still, I’m a teenage girl. And this is a creepy warehouse basement. I clutch my bag and hurry out into the antechamber.

Someone grabs my arm.

I let out a shriek that is quickly smothered by someone’s hand. My nostrils flare, but my fear vanishes, because I smell wintergreen toothpaste. I don’t have to turn around to see who has ahold of me.

When we reach my room, Luka pauses in the doorway, as if unsure how far he can bend Cap’s rules. “I want to talk to you about something.”

“Only something? Because I have a hundred things.”

He grins. It’s the first time I’ve seen it since we left California. The sight makes me feel fifty pounds lighter. Luka leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms. “By all means, then, go first.”

“I know why our dreams are different.” I sit on the edge of my bed. “Not everyone has the same gifting. There are different … groups, I guess?” I tell him about Fighters and Guardians. I explain that Claire is a Fighter, along with a boy named Jose, and probably me too, although I didn’t tell anybody. I explain that he is probably a Shield, then I move on to Anna and Fray and the oddity that is Link. The only information I keep to myself is that about Keepers. It feels silly to even suggest it. I don’t feel exceptionally powerful. I don’t even feel somewhat powerful. In fact, at the moment, I don’t feel like a Fighter at all.

By the time I’m finished, he stands with his hands deep inside the pockets of his faded jeans, shoulders shrugged up by his ears, furrow between his brow.

I pull at my earlobe. “What was the something you wanted to talk to me about?”

He twists his lips to the side, then steps inside the room and sits beside me on the bed. “I’d like you to keep taking the pills.”

The statement comes so out-of-the-blue, it takes me a few seconds to recover. “I thought we agreed the pills were a temporary fix.”

“I know, but they’re protecting you.”

I don’t want him to worry. I don’t want to tell him no. Deep down, the scared, cowering, selfish part of me would love nothing more than to give in and say yes. Just one night, in this safe place, of peaceful sleep. It seems Luka could use it, too. But at what cost? “I’m safe here. I don’t need the pills to hide me anymore.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Luka …”

He drags his hands down his face. “I’m just asking you to consider it.”

“People could be dying. My safety isn’t worth that.”

“Unpack that statement.” The gruff voice belongs to Cap.

He’s sitting in the doorway. I wait for a reprimand. It’s well past lights out, and he’s caught us inches apart on my bed. But he wheels inside my room looking more interested than angry. “How does this medicine affect life and death?”

I glance at Luka, then back at Cap. “The pills stop me from dreaming. And when I don’t dream, I can’t stop bad things from happening.”

“So we have ourselves another Fighter.”

I pick at a loose thread on my comforter, picturing the confident, regal way Claire carries herself, the impressive length of her limbs. She’s thin, but it’s a thinness that exudes power. Then there’s Jose—the thick set of his neck and shoulders, the largeness of his hands as he ate his dinner. Compared to them, I can’t imagine I’m a very good Fighter. In fact, the other side has nicknamed me Little Rabbit. It’s an animal that is neither strong nor powerful. It’s an animal that runs away at the first sign of danger.

“And you?” Cap turns his knife-like gaze upon Luka.

“From everything Tess has told me, it sounds like I’m a Shield.”

Cap rubs the white whiskers on his chin. It makes a sound like peeling Velcro. “Then you will train with Non. And you, Tess, will train with Sticks. As soon as the medicine wears off.”

“Train for what?” Luka asks.

“Our main purpose here is not survival.”

I lean forward, eager to ask what their main purpose is then. Before I can get anything out, Cap sets his hands on top of his wheels. “Social hour’s over. I don’t want to catch either of you in each other’s rooms after lights out again.”

When Luka is gone, led away by Cap, I look at my pillow. A single, white pill sits in the center. I pick it up, measuring it’s lightness in my hand. Luka wants me to take this. I’m more tempted than he knows. But there’s something that keeps me from giving in. Cap said there would be training. I’m not eager to meet this night, but if training will make me stronger than the demons that haunt my dreams, then this medicine has to stop. There’s a drain in the center of my room. I kneel in front of it and push the pill through the grate.