Ultraxenopia (Project W. A. R. Book 1) (27 page)

“Why . . . ?”

I await his response with
bated breath. It still won’t change things. I’ll still leave this place if it
means protecting both him and Jenner. All the same, I need to know.

Why . . . ?

“I don’t want to lose
anyone else,” he finally answers.

I instinctively take a step
away from him. For some reason, it feels as if a knife has been plunged into my
stomach, and each word is only twisting it more, intensifying the pain.

He doesn’t want to lose
anyone else. That makes sense, I suppose. He’s a leader here, and each death or
loss must weigh on him personally. In that case, I’m nothing more than another
number. Another notch in the PHOENIX belt. With my powers, I suppose they
wouldn’t want me to leave. They’re in an advantageous position if they keep me
here.

I know that.

He knows that.

I take another step back.
His eyes narrow as he watches me, the confusion appearing in thin lines across
his brow. His grip on me tightens, but I pull away from him.

I avert my gaze as all of
the questions I’ve had since coming here rage through my thoughts in a
turbulent spiral. Question, after question, after question, with limited
answers to settle my unease. However, one stands out to me more than the
others. One I’ve wondered since the very moment Jenner ignited this doubt
within me.

“Why did you take me with
you?” I breathe.

The nerves and fear both
come alive in my stomach, but I have to know. I have to hear him say it.

I have to apologize for
failing him when he needed me most.

“I know I didn’t stop it. I
wanted to. I tried—” I whimper, choking back the tears that now threaten to
break through. I clench my eyes shut as a single word spills from my lips. “Rai
. . .”

“No! Wynter . . .” He
reaches out his hand, but it freezes in the air between us, almost as if
there's an invisible wall stopping him from touching me. He lowers his arm,
instead taking a moment to consider his next words. “What happened wasn’t your
fault,” is all he can manage.

After a few seconds, his
eyes meet mine, but I can’t comprehend the faint glow burning behind them.

His shoulders sag as he
lets out a heavy breath.

“That’s not why I brought
you with us,” he murmurs. “It was never my intention to use you that way.”

He hesitates, and I can see
the internal struggle as it becomes apparent on his face. He clears his throat
before taking a step forward, bringing his body close to mine once again.

“I brought you with us
because I was afraid,” he stammers. “I’m
always
afraid of leaving you,
and I thought if I did . . . I . . . I thought I would never see you again.”

His words hit me all at
once, drowning me in a reality that I never expected to truly happen. My heart
aches with unrestrained emotion. Yet, through the blinding disbelief holding me
in place, I can’t help but notice the lie hiding just behind it.

What he’s saying, no matter
how hard he tries to mask it, isn’t the whole truth. There’s another reason he
brought me that day. Another reason he’s still refusing to tell me.

“When Jenner told me you
were leaving,” he breathes, “something inside of me just . . . clicked. I
realized I didn’t want you to go. I realized . . .” He licks his lips, and I’m
surprised to see a blush darken his cheeks.

My heart falters, and
suddenly, nothing else matters. The doubt I felt before seems to instantly melt
away, and at this moment, I no longer hear what he
isn’t
saying.

I only hear what he is.

From the day I was born,
I’ve been told to suppress my emotions—that by doing so I would successfully
integrate into a society that it’s taken me my whole life to realize is poisonous.
Humans are meant to feel. We’re meant to love. We aren’t meant to shut any of
that out, and what I never grasped before is that you
can’t
. One way or
another, they’ll find their way to the surface.

One way or another, they’ll
find a way to break through.

Holding back all of those
feelings for twenty-one years leaves me unprepared for the onslaught that
attacks me now. Each emotion tears through me, burning into my soul until
there’s nothing left but a pile of ashes. From those ashes, what rises up is
the new me.

The me that, for once, is
allowed
to feel.

Ezra moves even closer, and
I feel a tremor rock my body when he brushes his fingers across my lips, wiping
away the tears that have begun to pool there. He leans in, his breath hot
against my cheeks. His next words take hold of me in a way nothing else ever
could.

“I love you,” he whispers.
“Please don’t cry.”

From the moment I realized
what was necessary to save him, I repeatedly told myself I couldn’t say
goodbye. I told myself it was to spare me the pain of his unrequited feelings
when in truth, I was afraid of
this
. I never once stopped to consider he
could love me back, mainly because I couldn’t handle the thought of ever
leaving him if he did.

His hand combs through my
hair, holding me against him, refusing to let go. Leaning down, he presses his
lips against mine, and this time, I give into it.

All of the emotions I’ve
been bottling up since that very first vision of him seem to pour out in this
single kiss. It’s all consuming and alien, at least for me.

I never would’ve known this
kind of love in my world.

I never would’ve known what
passion could feel like.

In this brief instant of
time, I feel thankful for my condition because, when all is said and done, it’s
brought me to Ezra. Even if it’s short-lived.

Even if it can’t last.

Another tear rushes down my
cheek, but I choose to ignore it, forcing myself to focus on the present
instead. This is it. This is all we’ll have.

I have to make it count.

His mouth explores mine as
his hands seem to roam every inch of my body. I reciprocate, wanting nothing
more than to be as physically close to him as possible. Without thinking, I
give in to my urges, desperate to make sure I don’t have any regrets later.

If this is the only time in
my life when I can experience this feeling, I want to make sure that I
experience it to the fullest.

I smile against his lips.
No longer caring. No longer thinking about the consequences of my every action.
I simply allow this array of emotions to overtake me—to embrace the one thing I
have never known before.

The very thing I’m about to
lose forever.

He once again whispers
those wonderful words against my lips. As we fall onto the bed, I whisper them
back, surrendering myself to this fleeting moment.

I LIE STILL, LISTENING TO the soft
sound of Ezra breathing beside me. His chest slowly rises and falls, his lips
just barely parted as the air escapes between them.

A lock of his blond hair is
plastered messily across his forehead. I’m tempted to reach out and touch it—to
brush my hand across his skin one final time. I resist the urge. He looks so
peaceful in sleep that I don’t want to disturb him.

Besides, it’s better this
way.

I sit up and shift toward
the edge of the bed, glancing over my shoulder to make sure he’s still asleep.
He doesn’t wake up, and in truth, a part of me feels disappointed by that. On
some level, I guess I was hoping he would—that he would rouse at this very
moment and try to stop me from going. That he would tell me he loves me, one
last time. That he would pull me back into bed with him and take away all of my
strength as well as any desire I have to leave this place.

To leave
him
.

My feet press against the
cold floor as the air nips at my exposed skin. I sit still, hesitating.

How can I leave him now that
I know that he loves me? How can I do that to him? How can I break his heart
and destroy mine in the process?

Because you have to,
I remind myself.

How can I
stay
,
knowing that he loves me? How can I
stay
when I’m in love with him? It
will kill me to go.

But I’m all too aware it
will kill him if I don’t.

My eyes graze over every
detail of his body, remembering the way it felt against mine. Each whispered
word. Each touch.

I flush, thankful that I’ll
at least have the memory of our one moment together. No matter what happens
from here on out.

At least I’ll always have
that.

It feels as if I’ve been
sitting in the same place for hours, just watching him sleep and feeling him
close to me. I try to move several times, but it’s as if a heavy weight has
manifested under my skin, holding me in place. Keeping me here. Finally, I
convince myself it’s time to go. If I don’t, he’ll wake up, and if that
happens, he’ll only try to stop me. Not that he’ll have to. If we get to that
point, I won’t have the will to leave him anyway.

If I go now while he’s
asleep, it’ll be a clean break.

If I go now, it’ll be
easier for both of us.

Leaning over, I press my
lips against his. Not enough to wake him, just enough to leave my mark—to give
me the closure needed to do what’s necessary.

“I love you,” I murmur.

His cheek flinches where my
breath tickles his skin, and for a brief moment, I swear I can see him smile.
Even in the darkness of the room, it’s as if he’s responding to my words—to the
love I feel nearly exploding from my chest.

The thought only causes my
heart to break more.

“Forgive me,” I whisper.

Standing up, I pull on my
clothes, careful not to make even the slightest noise.

My pack sits undisturbed
where I dropped it on the floor, and I reach for it as I move toward the
doorway. My heart is pounding against my ribs with a blow that nearly pins me
to the floor, and there's a pain in my chest that grows with each unwilling
step I take. I fight through it, even though it feels as if all of the air has
left my lungs, reducing me to nothing but an empty shell.

Why does this feel so wrong
when I know it’s the right decision? Why does this hurt so much when I know
that it’s the only way I can keep him alive?

I once again wonder about
fate’s role in all of this. Were we always destined to fall in love? Was I
bestowed with this
gift
so I would know where to find him—so I would be
led to the one person I was meant to be with? Or did we only get here because
we were forced together—because there are similarities in our past that are too
great to ignore?

I suppose it doesn’t
matter. Either way, we arrived at this outcome, and I suppose we would’ve found
our way here regardless of which path we took. If that’s the case, that means
the pain and suffering that awaits us was always unavoidable.

A grimace twists my lips as
I try to hold back the tears. They burn miserably—like a fire tearing through
me as punishment for what I’m doing. But I have to.

I have to.

I tell myself multiple
times not to look back. Yet, despite the voice screaming in my head, I glance
over my shoulder, my hand gripping at the metal frame to hold me to the
doorway.

A feeling of longing swells
inside of me as I watch him for a moment. I can almost feel the heat radiating
from his body. Warm and inviting, coaxing me back into bed with him. Begging me
to stay, just as he did before.

The temptation grows
stronger with every second I waste here, and I find myself doubting my current
plan of action. What I intend to do—will he understand my motives, or will he
only see it as betrayal? Will what we have now be destroyed as a result, just
like what Rai and Richter once had?

Will Ezra turn against me,
just as he turned against her?

I suck in a sharp breath as
I come to the conclusion that it doesn’t matter. If his hatred is the cost for
saving his life, then it’s a price I’ll have to pay.

A price I’ll pay happily.

The tears finally spill
over, trailing down my cheeks. I bite my lower lip to keep it from trembling,
and taking a deep breath, I brush the moisture from my eyes. Straightening up,
I grip at the straps of my pack before stepping through the open doorway.

“Goodbye,” I breathe.

I don’t look back again.

It doesn’t take long for me
to find my way back to the hatch. Luckily, it’s the middle of the night, and as
no one seems to have foreseen this happening, no one’s here waiting to stop me.
A part of me expects Jenner to show up at any moment, but then I remember what
he said to me before.

“If I can’t get you to
stay, what will?”

It occurs to me that he
must’ve believed Ezra would be able to—that Ezra would change my mind about
leaving.

Why else would he have told
him what I was planning to do?

Thinking about Jenner,
especially after everything that’s happened the past few hours, only causes my
guilt to resurface. I push those feelings away, once again reminding myself
that what I’m doing is for the best. Not only for him and Ezra, but for
everyone else here.

Including me.

I abandon these thoughts as
I grip the wheel on the front of the door, and with a bit of a struggle, I
manage to get it open. Thinking about it now, in spite of the horrible events
that transpired through this passage, it’s actually fortunate that it’s
recently been used. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be slack like it is now. Otherwise,
it wouldn’t have opened, and I might have never been able to leave and do
what’s needed to save everyone here. At least not without help, which I know I
wouldn’t have gotten.

Watching my footing, I
climb through the hole, retrieving my flashlight once I’m fully immersed in
darkness. The beam of light instantly breaks through the shadows.

I begin to walk along the
route Rai led us on previously, my feet splashing in the shallow covering of
water. I’m not entirely sure how to reach my destination from here, but I know
if I can at least get close to Zone 1, I’ll be able to get there.

As I told myself before,
one way or another, I’ll find my way back.

The journey feels longer
this time, being on my own. My eyes go in and out of focus, and after a while,
I begin to feel tired, lulled by the sound of my wet footsteps. All the while,
I remind myself why I’m doing this. It’s like a chant in my head. If I say it
enough times, maybe I’ll eventually believe it.

I’m doing the right thing.

This is my only option.

This is the only way
everyone will stay alive.

This is the only way to
save Ezra.

I continue repeating this
until I arrive back in what I think is the general area of Zone 1. My feet then
carry me a bit farther in search of an exit like the one back at the
compound—on ground level where I can actually make it out by myself.

It only takes a few minutes
to find what I’m looking for. A small platform of steps veers off on my left
side, climbing up to a secluded, rust-covered entrance.

I use all of my strength to
open the door. It gives way after a few tries, leading up through another
tunnel that progresses slightly uphill. My breaths are heavy as I trudge
forward, but after a while, I make it to the end.

Flecks of dirt and water
spray onto my skin when I push against the metal door awaiting me at the exit.
As I climb out, I find myself in a shallow stream under a stone bridge in a
deserted park.

My heart drops when I
notice the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon. I don’t want to be seen
in daylight. I don’t want to attract unnecessary attention to myself. I don’t
want outside influences pressuring me to go back there.

I want to do this on my
own.

I want it to be
my
choice.

I step out from under the
overhanging bridge. My eyes scan the area, and at least from my surroundings, I
can tell I’m back in Zone 1.

It won’t be far from here
anyway.

Using the landmarks as my
guide, I compare where I am in retrospect to my surroundings when I escaped.
Surprisingly, I find it far quicker than I ever expected to. Maybe because the
fear had imprinted the images in my brain.

Either that or a part of me
always knew I’d eventually have to come back here.

I hesitate on the opposite
side of the street, staring up at the domineering building in front of me. I
don’t think it ever occurred to me how something so ominous stands in plain
view of our society. It’s sick—as if the State is proud of what they’re doing.

Proud of what they’ll soon
be doing to
me
yet again.

My heart races. I try to
find a reason to run away—an excuse to abandon my mission and get the hell out of
here. But I can’t. Too much depends on it.

Too much depends on
me
.

This is it,
I tell myself.

There’s no turning back.

As I cross the street, I
think of the life I knew before all of this. I think of how different I was.
How scared. How weak. How the only thing that seemed to matter was survival.
How nothing else even existed to me.

Don’t stand out. Blend in.
Remain invisible.
Those
are the rules I lived by—the rules I
thought
would keep me alive.

I was wrong.

No matter what choices I
make or which path I travel, I will never survive this. I know that now. But
maybe, with my sacrifice, Ezra and Jenner can. I have to believe it. I have to
believe that I can make a difference somehow.

One way or another, I
will
change the future.

It all starts here.

Straightening up, I take a
deep breath and storm confidently through the revolving glass doors. As if
expecting my arrival, Dr. Richter stands in the lobby along with a large group
behind him—presumably the same team who worked on me last time. They all wait
in a line facing me, with Richter in the middle.

I stop in front of him. He
meets my gaze, smiling that same familiar, eerie smile. If I didn’t already
know what I was walking into, I might actually think he’s sincerely happy to
see me.

“You made the right choice,”
he murmurs.

He closes the distance
between us and rests an appreciative hand on my shoulder—a gesture that any
normal person might mistake for kindness.

But I’m not normal.

“I want you to know,” I
whisper. “I will
never
lead you to him.”

He nods once but says
nothing, instead allowing his cold gray eyes to speak for him. He then steps to
the side, his hand sliding from my shoulder as it motions across the air in
front of me, ushering me back into the DSD.