"They escaped."
"What do you mean they escaped?! How is that even possible? That place is on total lockdown. There's no way in or out without fingerprint identification. Is there someone working with her on the inside?"
"SHE is working on the inside. Since we initially thought she had died in the accident, her clearance was never removed from the system."
"She knows then? She remembers?"
"I can't say for sure."
"So what CAN you say for sure? Do we know where she is?"
"Yes, but you're not going to like it."
"Spare me the theatrics. Where is she?"
"It isn't so much where, as with whom. She had help in getting away."
"Who's helping her?"
"The rebels."
"What?! How in the world did they get to her before we did?"
"It gets worse. We have reason to believe that she's had direct contact with Dr. Ivanov."
"You've got to be kidding me! That is worse. Much worse. If that is the case then we may not be able to find her in time. This is no longer a search and rescue mission. It's all-out war. In order to get her, we're going to have to attack the rebels."
"I'm aware."
"Well then I will let you make the General aware of the situation. I'm growing tired of your incompetence, but we both know he will have more patience if he hears the news from you."
"Unfortunately, it no longer matters who he hears it from. We're running out of time. If we don't recover her soon, all of this is for nothing. I'm making an executive decision to send in the troops."
"You can't make that call."
"Oh, but I already did."
"On what authority?"
"You know what authority."
"You're pushing your luck and your rank. You might be in the General's good graces right now, but everyone has a limit of what they will tolerate. I'm sure he won't be pleased to find out you went over his head."
"Let me worry about that, and you worry about initiating phase four."
"You know that once we go to phase four, there will be nothing left."
"I'm aware. Now make the call and let's finish this already."
***
I can feel the eyes of everyone in the cafeteria burrowing into the back of my skull as I turn around to leave. I don't want to do this. Not in front of all these people. I don't know how much Lex heard, but the look on her face tells me it was enough to make her realize something is going on between Wyler and I, and her quick departure from the cafeteria confirms my suspicion.
As I exit the room, I realize that I don't have a clue where I'm going. Every rust colored wall looks the same. It's a maze of passageways with no signs indicating which direction is which. And even if there were signs, I wouldn't know where to go. I've never seen this place before. It isn't a part of my dreams, or should I say, a part of my memories. I'm somewhere I've never been before. I'm in a strange new place yet I'm a stranger to no one. I'm a celebrity being gawked at. The sole human being on Earth who can procreate. A star strapped to a sinking ship with no way off and no one willing to throw me a life raft. My actions have alienated the few remaining people I love and I suddenly feel very alone. I also feel lightheaded, which is when I realize that I haven't eaten in quite a while. Why couldn't I have grabbed a snack on my grand exit out of the cafeteria? I suppose reaching for a banana from the fruit bowl would have minimized the impact. I place one hand against the wall to steady myself and just when I think I might collapse, Kelly is at my side, stabilizing me, wrapping my arm around his neck for added support. He has a habit of showing up just in the nick of time, and I wonder how much of it is coincidental.
"You sure are a feisty one, aren't you?" he says.
"You sure are a bit of a stalker, aren't you?" I retort, reluctantly allowing him to help me. I don't know why, but I can't help but make sarcastic comments back to Kelly. There's something about him that gets under my skin, not necessarily in a bad way, which is what concerns me. There's something there. Something I'm feeling, which I try to push deep down and ignore. It's the last thing I need right now.
"Why, because I keep popping up when you need me most? You're welcome, by the way."
I consider rolling my eyes at his comment, but stop myself because he's right. As annoying as it is to admit it, he has been quite helpful, downright lifesaving in fact.
"Look, is there somewhere I can lie down for a little while?" I ask, finally accepting his assistance.
"Sure, you can rest in my room."
"Ohhh no," I wave my finger at him and emphatically shake my head. "There's no way I'm staying with you."
"You don't really have a choice. Plus, you need someone who knows their way around this place and can get you food, so really, I'm your best option."
"That's scary."
"Ha ha. Come on, let's get you back to my room so you can relax."
But relaxing is the furthest thing from my mind. In addition to the recent revelations about my parents' past and my Mod status; I now have a former best friend who I'm pretty sure hates my guts and a boy who I thought had feelings for me, but it turns out our relationship was nothing more than a farce being put on as part of some sort of demented project to keep an eye on the world's last baby maker. On second thought, maybe Kelly is right. Maybe going to his room is my best option. I do need to lie down for a little while. I don't know what is going to happen next, but I know I need to rest in order to obtain some clarity surrounding this entire situation. So I decide not to fight Kelly, and instead, take his hand as he escorts me through the labyrinth of halls to his room. I try to ignore the electricity I feel when he laces his fingers through mine, and chalk it up to hunger and tiredness. My body isn't itself right now.
Despite the dreary appearance of the rest of the building, Kelly's quarters are anything but drab. It's clear he's put some time and effort into making his small room feel less like an end-of-the-world bunker and more like the room of a typical every day teenage boy. Posters are hung on the walls and little white Christmas lights dangle from the ceiling in an effort to counteract the horrible florescent lighting. There's a desk, immediately to the right as I enter, and above it, a few photos are taped to the wall of Kelly standing next to people that I don't recognize. My eyes are drawn to one photo in particular: a picture of Kelly, smiling, with his arm wrapped around someone. But the photo is folded in half, right where the other person stands next to him. Who is this mystery person he doesn't want anyone to see and why keep the photo up if he loathes them so much that he has tried to remove them from the photo? My mind immediately goes to Wyler as the person erased from the picture. At one point, he lived here, in his building, with the other defunct Mods. I remember when they greeted each other that day we were rescued. They were polite, but not exactly excited to see one another. They have known one another in a past life, a life I know little about. Maybe they were friends. Maybe something happened to end the friendship.
"Oh," Kelly says, suddenly seeming embarrassed. He rubs the back of his head. "That shouldn't be up there." He yanks the picture off the wall and stuffs it into his pants pocket. Now I'm even more curious, but I let it go.
My eyes wander to the far wall as I continue my inspection of his room. There's a map hung above his bed, which appears to show a detailed layout of some sort of building. Exits and entrances are marked in red. Next to it is another type of map: a map of the world, with little yellow pins stuck in various locations.
"Have you been to all those places?" I ask, pointing to the map.
"No, I wish. Mods are restricted from travel outside of the U.S. Those are places I want to travel to one day," he says as he leans against the doorway, hands in his pant pockets, watching me scan the items in his room. He seems to be enjoying my examination of his life, and for the first time, I see him as less of an annoyance and more as a teenage boy who just wants to live a normal life, but isn't allowed. I wonder how long he's been living here. It must be a difficult life.
"Wishful thinking I suppose," he continues. "Especially since most of those places probably don't exist anymore."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm sure they've already been wiped out," he replies as he steps into the room.
"Wiped out?" I ask, turning to him with confusion.
"This isn't just happening here, in the U.S. The entire world is flooded, diseased, iced over or burning. What remains is not exactly known, but the destruction is worldwide, that's for sure."
"How do you know?" I ask and that's when something in his closet catches my eye. I walk towards it to make sure that what I'm seeing is correct. It's a uniform, dark green, with red stitching on the lapel. A patch on the left breast pocket reads, "Environettix."
"What the...? You work for them?"
"Yes and no. They think I work for them, but I'm part of the rebellion, as you can see." He opens his arms, pointing to his surroundings.
"The rebellion?"
"The Mods who escaped and formed an alliance to try and stop Environettix."
"So you're working both sides? You're a spy?" I raise my eyebrows in interest.
"It sounds a lot cooler than it is," he says, while rubbing at something on his neck.
I approach and lay my fingers gently on the spot that is bothering him. To the naked eye, there's nothing to be seen, but I can feel a tiny lump under his skin. Touching it triggers something in me. It's like electricity flowing through my veins as images flicker through my mind. I know what it is. I remember.
"Does it hurt?" I ask, rubbing it softly.
"Not really. It's just more of an annoyance," he says, staring at me intently with his green eyes.
"It's a tracker, isn't it?"
He nods, then reaches out and lightly brushes the hair away from my neck. His touch is soft and warm as his fingers graze across the scar that I've had all my life: the scar that Wyler's lips touched just a few days ago. I try to push the image from my brain.
"Who removed yours?" he asks.
The images from my nightmares come back to me. My parents standing over me shouting that I'm awake, and Uncle Ben frantically trying to sedate me.
"My uncle, I think."
His green eyes stare deeply at me in a way that makes me feel like he's staring into my soul, trying to figure me out. It makes me uncomfortable and forces me to pull away.
"Won't that thing lead them right to us?" I try to deflect, not wanting to address the intensity of his eyes on mine. Not wanting to think about the image of my uncle slicing open my neck.
"No, Dr. Ivanov created a technology that blocks the signal. We're safe here. That is, unless I want them to find me, or more specifically, to find...you." He looks at me and tries to gauge my reaction.
"Why would you want that?" I ask, startled by his reply.
"Information is power. I know the location of the sole procreator on Earth. If I brought them to you, I could have just about anything I want, like say: a one-way ticket off this rock."
"Then why don't you?" I ask, irritated by his attempt to make me feel like he has the upper hand and that I'm somehow at his mercy. "What's stopping you? Why are you helping me?"
"Because of what they've done to you." His tone changes. He sounds almost...sad, but I don't understand why.
"Why would you care what they've done to me?"
"Um, I mean, to us, to all of us," he stutters, and just like that, his tone changes from sadness to anger. "They only care about themselves. Innocent men, women and children are dying, millions, even as we speak. Giving you to them will only help myself, and as a Mod, I'm not wired to think only of myself."
"Oh, right," I say, nodding my head in understanding. It has less to do with me, and more to do with the fact that his genetic make-up won't allow him to turn me in.
"Plus," he adds. "I kind of like you," he smiles and his green eyes glimmer in a way that causes me to blush. What is happening? This is so annoying. I can't let him get into my head. I need to focus.
"Can I ask you something?" he adds, drawing my attention away from whatever is going on inside of me.
I nod.
"Is there something going on between you and Wyler?"
"What? No," I scoff.
"You sure about that? I could practically feel the heat between the two of you when you made that scene in the cafeteria."
The cafeteria. I had almost forgotten. Of course he witnessed what had happened. Everyone did.
"Positive," I say, now knowing that whatever I thought was going on between Wyler and I, was all a lie.
"Can I ask you something?" I try to change the subject again.
"Shoot."
"I keep having these nightmares, only I don't think they are nightmares. I think they might be...real. That probably sounds crazy, but sometimes my brain feels scrambled and I can't remember things correctly. It's like my mind has been erased up until a certain point and I keep having these dreams that seem to be my only recollection of the past. Is that a Mod thing?"
"No, it's a memory re-imaging thing," he states matter-of-fact.
"Memory re-imaging? What's that?"
"It's a program that was created by Environettix, or more specifically...by your uncle."
"My uncle?" I ask, bewildered.
"Yeah, your parents weren't the only ones working for Environettix. I figured Ivanov would have told you, but I can tell by the look on your face, he didn't."
I shake my head, stunned and confused by his words.
"They're the reason you're alive."
"What are you talking about?"
"When Environettix discovered that your family had escaped, they sent men after you to kill your family and steal your mother's research on the sterilization antidote."
"But I thought they never intended to use the antidote?"
"Not for the general public. They needed it for themselves. For the chosen ones."
"Chosen ones? What are you talking about?"
"Look, I've probably said too much already. I don't have the clearance to be telling you this stuff. You just make me act a little...crazy." The corner of his mouth curls up in a half smile. He lets out an uncomfortable chuckle and rubs his hand through his hair. "I don't agree with why they want to keep you in the dark, but it's not my decision to make. I think it's important though for you to know what your aunt and uncle did for you."
"So what did they do?"
"After the accident, ambulances arrived at the scene, or at least it appeared that way to onlookers. They were really Environettix employees there to ensure you were all dead and to get rid of the bodies so there wouldn't be any questions. They loaded you and your family into two ambulances, but they were too cocky to think someone might be on to their plan. They didn't realize that the Environettix employees driving one of the ambulances were actually your aunt and uncle. Once you and your parents were loaded up, they escaped. By the time Environettix realized what had happened, they had disappeared."
"I wish I'd died that day." They're the words I've thought so many times, but never had the courage to voice out loud.
"You lived so that humanity could have a second chance," his voice turns tender, almost as if he's trying to comfort me, but I don't know why he would care about making me feel better. He seems more interested in giving me a hard time.
"I never asked for this."
"And I never asked to be a reject Mod. Those are the hands we were dealt and now it's time that we do something about it."
"What do you suggest?"
"Well for starters, I suggest you get some rest. You're no good to me, to anyone, if you're not fully functioning."
Ouch. His words are cold. Harsh. As if I'm just a machine or a piece of property that belongs to the world.
"Tell me how you really feel?" I say sarcastically. I know he can see the hurt in my eyes. He steps closer.
"Sorry, it's just....it's just..." His eyes flicker back and forth, searching mine for something. And for some reason, I know I would give it to him, if I only knew what it is he wants.
"What is it?" I ask.
"Nothing," he says after a long pause. Then he turns, breaking our stare and grabs a blanket from the chair.
"I'll sleep on the floor," he says. "I'll let you change." He grabs one of his t-shirts from a drawer and hands it to me. Our eyes lock again, just briefly. What is it about him?
"Could you?" I motion for him to turn around and unlike Wyler, he obliges right away.
I sit on the edge of his mattress and untie my laces. I remove my boots and tuck them neatly under the bed. I undress quickly, worried he might turn around. I pull his shirt over my head and release my hair from the ponytail it's been in all day. The shirt is much too big for me, which isn't surprising, given Kelly's height and muscular build, it's more like a dress on me, a very short dress, which barely covers my bottom. I climb under the covers and lay back on the pillow.
Kelly starts to undress. I immediately shut my eyes tight, trying to give him some privacy. I try to fight the temptation to look, but my eyelids have a mind of their own, slowly opening one at a time. He's facing the door, so he doesn't know I'm watching, although I doubt he cares, otherwise he would have asked for a little privacy himself. I think he's enjoying the idea that I might be watching, which only annoys me more, given the fact that I can't avert my eyes from his perfectly sculpted body.
I watch him take one hand and tug at the back of his shirt, removing it in one swift movement. On his back is a tattoo, a small heart. Not at all what I would expect from a big tough guy like himself. It's hard to make out exactly what it says, but it looks like the word "birdie" is written inside the delicate outline of the heart. Maybe it's a tattoo for his mother, or a sister or possibly a girlfriend. The idea that he would feel so strongly for a girl that he would get her name forever tattooed on his body, surprises me. He doesn't seem like the sensitive type, but then again, I don't really know him. I realize I may have judged him too harshly. I should try and give him a chance, which would be a lot easier if he could stop teasing me for more than two seconds.
He walks over to the door and flicks off the light. My eyes wander to the tiny twinkling lights strung across the ceiling. At this angle I can see that he's hung the cords in specific patterns so that they make up constellations. I can make out the Big Dipper and Orion. I stare intently at a grouping of lights trying to place the constellation. I can't quite think of the name but I know the story.
"What's that one?" I point to the unknown constellation.
"Lyra," he says and lets out a heavy sigh. Maybe he's exhausted by my questions or my inability to just be quiet and go to bed, but I don't care. I can't sleep.
"Lyra," I repeat aloud, as all the details of the story come back to me. "The celestial harp which belonged to Orpheus. He traveled to the Underworld to save his wife Eurydice. Hades agreed to let his wife return to the surface, but she had to travel behind Orpheus and Orpheus had to trust that she was there, following him, even if he couldn't see her. But he grew concerned when he couldn't hear her footsteps behind him, so when Orpheus reached the surface, he turned around to see if Eurydice was there, but she had not yet reached the top..."
"And she was pulled back into the Underworld whispering, 'Farewell' to her love before she vanished forever," Kelly says, finishing the story. "You have a pretty good memory for a girl with a scrambled brain. It's interesting the things you remember, while others remain forgotten."
He's right. How do I know that story? Did my father tell me it when we would go camping? No, that doesn't seem right. My brain flips through memories as if searching a card catalogue of my brain. My mind stops suddenly. I've reached the right place, but the card is blank. I can't remember, no matter how hard I try.
"Maybe because it's so sad," I say, trying to wrap my head around all this memory re-imaging insanity. The sad memories seem to be easier to recall. They stay with me, no matter how hard I try to forget.
"Sometimes you just need to have faith that someone is there, even if you can't see them. Sometimes the best way to help is to let go and trust that they will find their way back to you."
He sits up from where he is lying on the floor and looks at me with an intensity that makes me uncomfortable again. He reaches towards my head. My body freezes. My heart races. I'm not sure what he's about to do. Then his hand slips behind my head and he hits a light switch on the wall, turning off the constellations. I exhale loudly. I didn't even realize I was holding my breath. The room goes black and I wish I could do the same to my brain. Darkness consumes the space. The quietness is deafening. I'm left with just my thoughts, which is the last thing I want.
"Can I ask you for a favor?" I turn on my side to look down at him, lying on the ground below.
"Anything?" he responds without hesitation.
His kindness is disarming, and I wonder if I truly can trust him or if this is all an act to get me to let my guard down. Maybe he really is playing both sides.
"Never mind," I say, thinking twice about the stupid thing I was about to ask.
"What is it?" He leans up on his arm and turns to face me.
"Would you mind...sleeping..."
I can't believe I'm about to ask this.
"...next to me?"