Ultraxenopia (Project W. A. R. Book 1) (13 page)

“Honestly? I’m still trying
to figure that one out,” he admits.

It’s strange. The State has
always portrayed PHOENIX as a force to be reckoned with. To be
feared
.
But as I watch Jenner, I realize that
they’re
the ones who are afraid.
These people aren’t terrorists or murderers. They’re just a group of scared
individuals. Nothing more.

The solemn expression on
Jenner’s face makes me eager to change the subject. My eyes dart around the
room, once again landing on Rai and Ezra.

A spark of curiosity forms
my next question for me. “How did you all meet?”

Jenner peers over at me
before following my gaze. When he sees where I’m looking, he says, “Well, Ez
and Rai have known each other since they were kids. They’ve gone through all of
this together, every step of the way.”

Together. On a personal
level, I don’t even know what that word means.

I stare at them, their loud
bickering still projecting throughout the room, and I realize that I envy
them—whatever their relationship may be.

“How about you?” I ask
Jenner. “How did you end up here?”

“I, uh . . .” He runs his
hand through his hair as his cheeks turn a subtle shade of red. “I had a bit of
a run-in with the authorities,” he confesses. “It was a misunderstanding more
than anything else. A case of wrong place, wrong time. Anyway, Ezra and Rai got
me out of that bind. I’ve been with them ever since.”

As he speaks, I get the
distinct impression that this life wasn’t necessarily something he always
wanted. “You don’t seem too happy about that,” I point out.

“It’s not that I don’t feel
grateful toward them, because I do,” he says. “It’s just that, when they saved
me . . . everything changed. I had to leave my entire life behind, and my
family suffered as a result. I couldn’t see them. Couldn’t go to them. Not even
to say goodbye.”

He takes a deep breath, and
it becomes clear to me that his past is painful for him to talk about.
Regardless of how much time has passed, it’s obvious he’s still hurting.

He clears his throat and
once again runs his hand through his hair. “When the Enforcers couldn’t find
me, my family was brought in for questioning.” He hesitates, casting an
uncertain glance in my direction. “
You
know what the DSD is like,” he
mutters. “They were executed shortly after. I know I’m responsible for what
happened to them. If I had died, then they wouldn’t have had to. But . . . at
the same time . . . their deaths are my reason for fighting, you know? I want
to prevent such needless tragedy from happening to anyone else.”

The feeling of sympathy
that arises within me seems strong enough to drown an entire city. I can’t even
comprehend the pain that Jenner has gone through. Well, I
can,
but at
least I was young enough that I don’t fully remember it.

Everything else that’s
happened to me since, I thought it was bad. But what Jenner’s experienced, what
everyone here has probably experienced, is far worse than anything I could ever
imagine.

“That right there,” he
says.

I look up to find him
smiling.

“That’s how I know you
aren’t one of them.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

His lopsided smile reaches
all the way to his eyes. He looks happy, in spite of everything he’s just
revealed to me. Although, I can’t figure out why.

I meet his gaze. The way he
looks back at me is somewhat unsettling. No one’s ever looked at me this way
before. The seconds roll by, and he still doesn’t answer me. Before I can press
him further, he turns away, distracted by something across the room. I follow
his gaze to see Rai walking toward us.

“How’d it go?” he asks her
once she’s close enough to hear him.

“He needs time to mull
things over. But he’ll come around.”

I glance away from them,
noticing that Ezra is nowhere to be seen. He must’ve left after his argument
with Rai. But why? What were they fighting about that made him so angry?

Me, no doubt,
I realize.

I slump back against the
bench, losing myself to my confused thoughts. The images in my head seem intent
on replaying my dream, except it’s not my father that I’m seeing this time.

It’s Ezra.

I see his face.

I hear his voice.

“I’m sorry, Wynter.”

Those words surround me
until I hear nothing else. Closing my eyes, I exhale deeply, curious more than
ever about why he’s apologizing.

THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS are spent
touring the compound in the few hours when I’m actually allowed out of the
storeroom. Rai and Jenner are hospitable, each giving off an air of
friendliness that almost makes me believe I’m not actually a prisoner. Then we
pass one of the other residents here, and encountering that familiar expression
of distrust forces me to remember where I am.

It forces me to remember
who
I am.

It also doesn’t go
unnoticed that there are things they choose not to show me. Specifically, the
exits. Regardless of how they’re treating me, regardless of what they say, I
know I’m not truly welcome here when all is said and done.

“Make yourself at home.”

I glance at Rai, and I
can’t help but grimace. After all, her words are in direct contradiction to the
thoughts racing through my head.

“Really,” she insists when
she sees my face.

I can’t help but frown at
her, certain that making myself at home would only cause more problems for me
in the long run. She and Jenner might like me enough to encourage me to stay,
but I have a feeling that sentiment isn’t shared by the others.

“The first step to
acceptance is exposure,” she presses. “The people here need to see you if
they’re expected to trust you, and that’ll never happen if you’re locked away
all the time.”

Suddenly, I find myself
wondering how long I’ve been here. Just over a week, maybe? Less than half of
which I’ve actually spent conscious. How can they be so quick to trust me—to
expect others to trust me?

We pause beside an open
doorway leading into what appears to be a kitchen. Rai turns toward me and
takes hold of both of my hands.

“This is where I leave you,”
she murmurs. “Jenner, could you show her to the showers?”

“Sure thing,” he says with
a smile.

Out of the corner of my
eye, I notice him staring at me. When I look up at him, he winks. I flush and
turn away.

Rai says her goodbyes and
retreats through the metal archway, leaving us alone.

Jenner returns to our
leisurely stroll, and I follow him through the corridors without another word.
We walk in silence for quite some time, but it doesn’t feel awkward. It just
feels comfortable. Natural.

“How many people live
here?” I ask him after a while.

“Twenty-six,” he answers.
“But with you, we have twenty-seven.” He peeks over at me as he says this,
showing me that lopsided smile once again.

My feet falter, and for a
moment, I wonder if I heard him correctly. He seems completely at ease with
this information while I, on the other hand, feel alarmed by what he’s said.

Twenty-six people? The
fearsome terrorist organization known as PHOENIX only has twenty-six people?

“Is that it?” I gasp.

His eyes meet mine, and I
can see a spark of understanding shining within them.

“We’re just one branch in a
much larger tree,” he assures me. “PHOENIX has hundreds of sects residing in
this city alone, some of which greatly outnumber ours.”

I feel myself releasing a
sigh of relief, although truth be told, I’m not entirely sure why. I barely
even know these people, so why does it matter whether they have the support to
stand up to the State?

That’s
their
problem, isn’t it?

“Well, here we are,” Jenner
says, halting beside another open doorway. “Rai told me she set aside some
clothes for you in the shower area, which is just through there. I’ll wait for
you here while you clean up. I know it’s been a while since you’ve been able
to, so take your time.”

His comment in regards to
my lack of cleanliness
would
be insulting if I didn’t know how true it
was. I cringe when I realize that it’s been months since I last bathed. I guess
I didn’t see the point when I knew I could die at any time.

Suddenly, I feel
self-conscious. Without another word, I dash through the door, eager to be away
from his lingering gaze.

My pace slows significantly
once I know I’m out of sight. Now that I’m alone, I feel like I’m trespassing,
and I find myself whipping around at the slightest noise, frightened of who
might be waiting around every corner.

Thankfully, no one else is
here. I take advantage of the solitude as much as I’m able to.

I step into one of the
empty shower cubicles and turn the hot water on to the point where it’s nearly
scalding. It feels good against my aching skin, like the heat is burning away
the trauma of everything that’s happened these past few months.

I take a deep breath. The
water soaks uncomfortably into the bandage around my wrist, and after careful
consideration, I decide to undo it. Biting my lip, I take a long overdue look
at the damage I’ve inflicted upon myself.

Apart from some swelling,
and the rather unsightly stitches holding it all together, the wound doesn’t
look too bad. I count myself lucky considering how easily it could’ve turned out
differently.

I hang on to that
thought—as well as on the efforts that Rai took to fix it—as I hold my arm out
under the water.

PHOENIX. They’re not at all
what I expected and certainly nothing like the State portrays them to be.
Still, I find myself feeling uncertain about them. Not necessarily as
individuals, since I’ve found kindness here that I could’ve never anticipated,
but about PHOENIX as a whole. I don’t exactly feel safe here, and I definitely
don’t feel like I belong, regardless of what Rai and Jenner say to encourage
otherwise.

Yet, a very large part of
me is saying I
have
to be here—that this place will help me discover the
truth behind what’s happening to me.

But how? Ezra seems to be
the key, considering he was the one I saw in my vision. But how do you get
close to someone when they would rather see you dead?

I think of my vision. The
way Ezra looked at me. The tears in his eyes. Something has to change between
us to cause that sort of reaction.

But what?

I let out a heavy sigh,
aware that I have no other choice except to get him to trust me. If I want
answers, if I want to find out the meaning behind my visions, then I have to
get close to him by any means possible.

A high-pitched squeal
expels from the tap when I shut off the water. I climb out of the shower,
noticing the clothes Rai set out for me on the side of a sink by a row of
mirrors.

I leave the filthy garments
from the DSD where they are, determined never to look at them again, let alone
touch them. They hold too many bad memories, too many horrors. I can’t subject
myself to reliving them, not even in my thoughts, and I’m afraid the slightest
reminder would be all it’ll take to shut me down.

I pull on the fresh
clothes. They’re a bit large on my shrunken frame, but they’ll have to do for
now.

My fingers comb through my
tangled hair, and my eyes look up into the mirror above the sink.

I’m startled to see the
person staring back at me. I thought I looked bad before, but I seem to have
deteriorated since I last saw my reflection.

My skin is pale, almost
sallow, and prominent bags hang under my eyes, darkening the skin around them.
I generally look unwell, the realization of which makes me fear what effect
this disease is having on me.

I discard the thought and
head back for the hallway, desperate to focus on anything else. When I enter
the corridor, I notice Jenner leaning up against the wall next to the door.
He’s whistling a soft tune and his eyes are closed. He looks serene, beautiful
even. At peace.

I envy him, wishing more
than anything that I could know what that feels like.

His eyes blink open, and he
glances up at me. A cheerful smile spreads across his face. “Look at you, all
cleaned up.” He gives me the once over and lets out a long drawn-out whistle.
“You were cute before, but now . . . !”

I blush beneath his gaze,
not sure how to react. I take it as a compliment that he finds anything
physically appealing about me at all, especially considering how I look.
Although, truth be told, his reaction might boil down to the obvious lack of
age-appropriate females residing here.

“Shall we continue?” he
asks as if sensing my discomfort.

I nod, allowing him to
maneuver me through the rest of the compound. There isn’t much left to see, but
then again, I don’t really know what more I was expecting. In truth, I think
Jenner and Rai are more concerned with extracting any potentially useful
information than they are with actually making me feel at home. But I’m okay
with that. No matter what their motive is, it’s the kindness they’ve shown me
that’s really mattered.

After a while, we find
ourselves back in the large open area from a few days earlier. My feet stumble
beneath me when my eyes land on the sizable group of people in front of us. A
sudden uneasiness twists my stomach, causing me to linger at the border of the
room. Jenner looks back at me and nods his head, assuring me that everything
will be fine. I hesitate, but eventually convince myself to trust him. My
nerves settle further when I see the reason for the crowd.

Roughly two dozen people
surround a middle-aged man, who stands in the middle of the room, smiling
happily. The others each take a turn patting him on the back. I hear the same
phrase repeated countless times among them, but it sounds jumbled in my ears,
the words unclear from where we stand.

Curiosity gets the best of
me. I watch the group until I catch a glimpse of Rai entering the room, holding
a heavy-looking crate full of glass bottles. When she sets it on the floor,
everyone begins to cheer before setting upon her like a hungry pack of wolves.
It occurs to me that the bottles must contain alcohol—a treat most of them
probably aren’t usually afforded.

With drinks in hand, they
all turn back toward the middle-aged man. His face reddens with embarrassment
and grows several shades darker when a chorus of singing explodes throughout
the room. My eyes widen when I hear the lyrics, genuinely surprised by what I’m
seeing.

I shake my head.

“It’s amazing,” I whisper.
“With everything you have going against you, you still find time to celebrate
birthdays.”

I can feel Jenner looking
at me, but it’s only when I sense him smile that I finally meet his gaze. Yet,
I can’t help but notice the dark nature of his expression. Even with that
smile, he seems sad more than anything else.

“Well, it’s the little
things that make life worth living,” he breathes. “Besides, we have to enjoy it
while we can because, as you have indirectly pointed out, we could all be dead
tomorrow.”

His eyes fix on mine, and
the way he stares back at me sends a shiver across my skin.

“The birthdays we have
now,” he murmurs. “They could be our last.”

I turn away from him,
feeling uncomfortable and ashamed. How could I be so callous and so reckless
with my judgments? I might not have meant anything offensive by what I said, but
that doesn’t mean it wasn’t. The people here have experienced true loss and
pain, and in spite of that, are trying to find strength and carry on.

To do whatever it takes to
fight for a better future.

Neither Jenner nor I speak
again for a long while, instead choosing to watch the celebration in front of
us. My eyes scan the room, observing this fleeting moment of bliss in the many
faces around me.

Through it all, there’s
only one person I see.

I notice him watching me
through a space in the crowd. His eyes seem to pierce through me, hard and
cold.

The moment I meet his gaze,
I feel my body begin to change. I recognize the pain before I can even fully
process it. It spreads through me, searing every inch of my very existence like
a hot piece of metal being dragged across my skin. I grab my head, my fingers
gripping with such intensity that my skull feels ready to implode beneath my
touch. Still, I continue to dig, hoping to stop the pain—to unbury it before it
consumes me.