Page 24

Chapter twenty-two

Forest

T he rest of the day dragged along as best it could after the chaos from this morning. People’s need to stare at me everywhere I went became insufferable. Although I only had one more class, it felt like an eternity of sitting in that classroom, watching my classmates sneak stolen glances at me. There was no point trying to strip away the oversized shirt my mother had put me in at the med unit. It almost felt more comforting to wear something so baggy, given today's events. To my surprise, I hadn’t seen Fallan anywhere. I found myself even going so far as to try and track him down in his final period of the day. From what I know, he ends the day with Literature, but the Unfortunate section of the English department's classroom was empty. The Unfortunate caught stealing food gave me a look of acknowledgment in the hallway, almost looking like he would stop to say something before deciding not to.

“Are you ready to tell me what’s going on with you two?” Kai questions, finally pushing me to speak and break my unspoken vow of silence I have taken since we left the med unit.

“I’m assuming you’re talking about-”

“Xavier? Yes,” Kai says, not allowing me to finish my statement.

My bag hits my leg with each step. I notice Kai’s tousled hair and brown eyes are more frazzled than usual. Concern coats his gaze, eating him alive in all the ways it had my mother.

“I may be enjoying the alone time I’ve gotten with him,” I say, keeping my gaze forward toward the tram, now filled with students.

“Have you two-”

“Kai,” I snap, cutting off the question before he could finish it. “All I’ve done is let Max kiss me a few times. Xavier and I have done nothing. You can stop the paranoid, older brother attitude,” I say. His cheeks grow red with embarrassment.

“I actually wasn’t going to ask you about Xavier,” Kai mutters. I pause my walk, looking over at him in confusion.

“Then who?” I question, watching him take a look around at his surroundings.

He closes his eyes, rubbing his face like my mother does.

“The Unfortunate,” he begins motioning to me. “Why is he always lingering around you?” Kai questions. I’m sure his accusation is courtesy of what Raegan must have told him about what she saw in art class, no doubt. I knew there was no way of keeping that away from Kai once she saw us exchange a brief touch.

“Fallan is harmless,” I say, walking toward the tram. I close my eyes as I walk, reaching into my mind to shout down that narrow hallway with doors that all seemed closed.

“Are you done shutting me out?” I yell through my mind.

“Harmless? You’ve been acting recklessly since he showed up.”

I turn on my heels, stopping my brother's determined march behind me with a point of my finger to his chest. He pauses, looking at me with surprise.

“Fallan is not to blame for why I’ve been off. If anything, he’s helped me in ways no one else can right now, so I suggest you tread carefully on what you choose to say next because it might not have the outcome you like,” I hear myself say, barely recognizing the tone in my voice. It feels like another part of me jumped out, ready to fight back against anyone willing to challenge me. My heart pounds in my chest, pumping blood through my veins.

“Easy there, Little Dove. He’s trying to help you,” Fallan’s voice says, relaxing my rigid position.

Kai looks confused, watching me step back as I touch my head, looking around for any sign of the Unfortunate. Kai’s hand lands on my arm, returning my attention to him.

“I don’t think you’re wrong. It’s not just you who’s having some confusing feelings,” Kai admits, showing me his first sign of weakness in so long.

My throat feels dry, making me swallow more times than I’d like to.

Max and Rae wave to us from the bus window, motioning us to get on and join them. I still feel annoyed at Max. His excitement towards the potential of someone getting hurt earlier unnerves me. Still, I plaster on my fake smile, following my brother’s lead toward the bus. That’s Kai’s obvious way of wanting to shut down uncomfortable conversations he’d prefer to be done with.

“Now you speak to me? I thought I was cut off?” I question, using more energy than I’d expected to, but I’m paranoid, and my anger and hurt is raging through me.

“Well, you’re alone again. It's much easier to speak to you when your mind isn’t distracted by someone else’s hands all over you,” Fallan says, making my stomach flip.

“You saw-”

“Felt. I felt your pleasure, as much as I wish I didn’t,” Fallan says with a groan, only growing my list of questions.

"How is that possible?” I question, now rubbing my rolling stomach.

“Some part of you must have been thinking of me whenever you were with him. The only way this works is if you are thinking of the other person, and they are thinking of you too,” he says, sounding tired as he speaks.

“I still don’t understand. I never feel your… pleasure?” I push, nearing the steps of the tram.

“That's because I have none…. None that involves you,” he says with a sigh. “You don’t have enough energy for me to explain it like this. If I am in your mind, Forest, you want me here. Remember that,” Fallan finishes. The feeling of him dissipates from my mind.

Stumbling up the steps of the tram, I quickly snap my head to the back, half expecting to meet his blue eyes and cocky smirk. Instead, I see nothing but an empty back row of seats. Kai has already taken a seat with our friends, urging Max to stay seated instead of trying to talk to me.

Mark is too busy fidgeting with his seat to notice my sudden presence. He flinches in surprise when I squeeze his shoulder once no one is looking. We give each other our usual smiles before I pull away from the front and move myself back to my friends. I sit next to my brother, avoiding the seat that would put me close to Max. Kai picks up that I want some space from his friend, nudging me into his spot next to Rae, leaving Max no room to try and find a way over to me.

“Are you doing okay?” Rae asks, brushing off whatever feelings she’s had towards me lately.

“Was your mom able to figure out what happened?” Max says, piquing the curiosity of those around me.

“Guys, give her some time,” Kai says, raising his arm to give me the space to lean into him. I accept the gesture, letting my head land on his front, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as the tram finally begins to move. Max and Rae are impatient, watching me like they’re owed an explanation.

“It was just a seizure. That's all,” I finally say, knowing it’s not the answer either of them wanted. They continue staring, waiting for me to say more.

“ That's all, ” I say again, hearing the irritation consuming my tone.

The twins exchange a look before leaning back in their chair. It's a look that tells me they’ll be discussing my brother and me as soon as they're alone.

They can assume what they want. I’ve lost the desire to explain myself or reason with them. From what I’ve discovered so far about our chips, even if I were to tell them anything, I’m doubtful they’d have the capacity to accept or understand. It would destroy their reality, and I don't think they’re ready for that.

I don’t think anyone is ready for that.

Kai shakes me awake, already holding our bags, ready to leave the vehicle. He moves off the tram with the last few students, trailing behind the twins who are waiting for him outside the doors. I rub my eyes, unsure of when I’d dozed off. Mark looks at me in the rearview mirror.

I pull myself up to my feet, seeing my disorderly reflection in the closest window.

“Where are the Unfortunates?” I question once I am in his earshot. The old man takes a deep breath, looking back at the empty seats with me.

“Fallan had to stay behind to take the Academy's placement test to see if he’s still eligible to be a transfer this year. He's been reviewing that prep book nonstop, ensuring he gets all the material down. I have no idea when he sleeps between studying and running his folks' property," Mark says, reminding me once more of the enormous responsibilities his people often have, regardless of age.

“I wasn’t asking about just Fallan,” I say, watching him smile.

“Were you curious about Valerie then?” he questions, giving me a small spout of sarcasm that I rarely see.

I grin at his playfulness.

“Why would he want to stay placed over here? At least in your sector, he won't have to deal with… my people,” I say, pausing when I realize I’ve grouped myself with the Untouchables.

“You are more lost than I thought,” Mark says.

I feel confused by his wording, unsure of what he could mean or how I am supposed to interpret that.

“What-”

“Forest, chop-chop,'' Rae says, tapping her watch with a pink nail. She looks annoyed, clearly off-put by yet another exchange between me and an Unfortunate.

“You're being summoned,” Mark says, looking back toward the road with a lowered head. I step back, wondering how the conversation could shift that quickly. My head snaps back toward Rae, giving Mark one last look before pulling myself away from the tram.

I step off with a heave, moving past the blonde who has only managed to push my buttons today.

“How many of them do you plan on talking to?” Rae questions, trailing behind me, nagging me like a fly buzzing by my ear. My brother is talking to Max, standing close while whispering something in the boy's ear.

“As many as I fucking want,” I spit, pausing to finally become eye level with the girl. “Because right now, the last thing I want is to be around our people,” I continue, watching her expression contort into unease. The boys watch the exchange with curiosity, standing still, waiting for one of us to look at them.

“What the hell is going on with you?” Rae questions, giving my front a shove that leads to nothing. I hold my ground, keeping a leg back, unsure of when I had braced myself for the impact I didn’t know was coming. She moves to shove again, stopping once both of her wrists are in my hand.

“I don't know. So stop trying to figure it out for me,” I whisper, narrowing my eyes at her with a firm squeeze to her wrist.

A loud crash breaks my concentration on her, forcing us back several feet as we narrowly avoid tree branches falling on top of us. The tree scrapes the sidewall of someone's front yard before landing on the sidewalk between the boys and us. It’s one of the many aspens planted on the sidewalk, and there’s now a gaping hole where it should’ve been. I stare at the exposed roots, each jagged and ripped clean from the ground. I trail my gaze up towards the trunk, where I notice it’s been sliced clean through with precision. We pause our angry banter, looking over the suddenly displaced eyesore in front of us.

“What the hell?” Kai questions, moving closer to get a better look at the tree.

“You both okay?” Max questions, resting his hand at my side. It makes my skin crawl.

“Yeah, we're fine,” I quickly say, keeping my eyes on Kai.

“You two stood there, and it just started leaning over,” Kai says, rubbing his fingers along the perfectly sliced trunk. “How the hell does a tree even break like that?” he questions, motioning the twins to come over and get a closer look.

The trio is studying botany in science this year, spending a great deal of time trying to figure out new ways to incorporate plant life, once thought extinct, back into our society. As far as I know, our people’s resources, though seemingly plentiful, still tend to dwindle in some areas. The ability to create other fresh produce items that our society thought long gone grows more plausible each day.

With minds like Kai and Rae thrown into the research process, what once seemed impossible is now a light at the end of the tunnel. You’d be surprised how quickly people have gotten bored with what fresh produce we do have, given they have no real idea what food was like before New Haven began to get a grasp on how to mass produce once more. There are horror stories about New Haven's beginning and food scarcity before civility and agriculture returned to the human race.

Something wet falls from my ear, pulling me away from my thoughts once it meets the pavement and I see a red splotch. I touch my ear, pulling my fingers in front of me, and find bright, red blood coating my fingertips. Slapping my hand over the side of my head, I walk away, letting my slow steps become enormous strides, all while leaving my friends in the unsettling space behind me.

I shove open my front door, quickly scanning my ID card before the house triggers an alarm at the sudden presence within it. Running to the kitchen, I grab the nearest towel, clamping the material over my ear. I tilt my head back to try and stop the bleeding. After many minutes of vigorously washing my hands and patience, the bleeding stops, leaving me no other option than to shove the rag in my bag until I can clean it on my own. If anything, it would be just one more thing for my mother to question.

The only person active in the house is my father, although, given how dark it is inside the home, he must be sleeping off one of his longer shifts.

Quietly, I tip-toe closer to my bedroom door, doing my best not to look into his study through the open door. He rarely leaves it open this time of day so it’s hard not to steal a glance inside.

Curiosity gets the better of me, forcing my head to look into his large workspace. His body is slumped forward onto his desk, his chest breathing deeply, and he’s snoring onto the countless files sprawled across his desk. I step closer to the door, hearing a noise once my foot moves past the doorway. Looking down, I notice papers strung all over the floor of his study, each covered in handwriting of all different fonts and sizes, all sporting the same word.

“Apparatus?'' I whisper, pushing myself to move further into the study.

His hands are coated in color pastels. Pages are ripped from his notebook. Some of his files are even covered in the word. Slowly creeping closer to my father, I see the nearly empty bottle of scotch resting next to his head.

I continue to find even more papers surrounding me everywhere I turn.

“What the hell?” I whisper, unable to focus on just one document.

Sketches of New Haven's territory are on my father’s wall. Pins of varying colors poke up from the map. Green, blue, red, purple, and gray.

Of the five colors, there is one gray.

It marks our house's central location in New Haven’s territory.

I poke my father’s body, ready for him to scream at me for being in here. I don’t know if he’d even bother trying to explain whatever it is I’ve stumbled upon.

He doesn’t move a muscle.

Letting my curiosity guide me, I quietly move folders away from his desk, knocking his computer mouse in the process. His screen lights up, requiring no password, seeing as he passed out while doing work. I look over the multiple files on the computer, biting my nails once the cursor lands on the file labeled “ Unfortunate Sector.”

Not once have I seen the sector. Other than Officials, only a select few Untouchables can travel that way. Glancing back at the doorway, I internally debate whether or not I should leave and forget everything I’ve seen here.

One look at the floor littered with papers is enough to guide my decision.

With three clicks, I have the file opened, unable to digest the sheer horror on the screen in front of me. People lie dead in the streets, children included. I watch as Officials haul bodies away from the busy streets, throwing them in piles to be carted off somewhere. Several Elders beg for mercy, seeing the flash of a pistol before meeting the ground in cold, limp states.

I grasp my father’s desk as I continue to take in the disease and murder that ravages the people on the other side of our community. Buildings are older, clothes are torn, and bodies are weak. Officials throw the Unfortunates around like rag dolls, some badgering children who are doing nothing at all. My hands shake as I watch the footage, my mind running through every lie our people told us about how the Unfortunates had been comfortable and well provided for.

People wail out in pain, begging for someone to stop the Officials torturing them. I recoil in my skin, leaning over to release a gag doing its best to break free from my throat. My eyes land again on the papers on the floor. I grab a smaller notecard and shove it into my pocket. I hear the sound of a light sensor prod whirring, followed by the loud groans of someone being delivered a lashing. The sound of the grunts feeling all too familiar.

With horror-stricken eyes, I look up again at the footage, seeing his pained figure cling to a pole while they tear his back to shreds. Fallan. His blue eyes are filled with distress, but he’s somehow managed to stifle the screams he wants to let out. I watch the Officials hit him as hard as they can, breaking down his muscular body and leaving him with gruesome lesions across his back. His voice is hoarse from yelling. A necklace dangles from his neck. On it is a single golden ring. Even in the footage, I can see the band has an intricate design, carved of vines and wrapping all the way around. The date on the bottom of the screen is from last year. A year ago, from when I first saw Fallen on the tram to school for the first time. All those scars on his back were fresh.

I watch the Official back away from Fallan, finally finished with his lashings. My heart hurts at the image of tears rolling down Fallan’s cheeks. My own tears begin to streak my face, filling my chest with a significant weight I can’t shake.

I hear the Official behind the camera laugh at his suffering. Each dirty Untouchable on the screen is added to my mental list of people I want in front of the barrel of a gun. I touch the screen above Fallan’s slumped figure, watching as he almost falls backward once the Official who delivered him the beating takes off his mask to grab the camera.

My father’s eyes look unrecognizable. His face is streaked with Fallan’s blood, malevolence filling his eyes.

“That should be enough footage to bring back to the big guy. There’s no way that deviant asshole tries anything again,” Adam says from behind the camera.

All my father can do is nod.

I quickly shut off the computer, feeling a tremendous guilt for what my father had done. It’s hard to look down at the man without scowling. I don’t know if I recognize him anymore.

How can he come home to us like nothing is wrong after doing and seeing something so vile? How can he knowingly commit so many heinous acts towards people without having his conscience tattered to shreds? Is it his chip? Or is it him?

I grasp my head, reaching into my mind space in a panic.

“I'm so sorry,” I cry down the hallway of my mind, feeling myself start to hyperventilate.

“I didn't know,” I say again, backing away from my father and this forlorn study.

“What did you see?” Fallan quickly asks, sounding more panicked than usual.

Real or not, he needs to hear this from me, even if it’s all in my head.

I take a shaky breath, staggering out into the hallway towards my room. I lock myself inside and slink to the floor.

“I saw what my father did to you. I saw what he did to your back,” I whisper, feeling the mental drain start to take effect.

“That wasn't the worst thing that happened to me, Forest. Believe it or not, that punishment saved me that day.” he says, his words more exhausted than usual.

“How?” I question, slumping forward to press my heated face to the cool floor.

“The scars remind me of one thing.” he says silently in my mind.

"What?” I question, letting his voice guide my breathing back to normal.

“That any of it was real, to begin with,” Fallan mutters, making my head pound to life.

“That any of what was real, Fallan? What aren't you telling me?” I push, feeling the pain swarm my mind.

“Get some sleep, Little Dove. I don't have any more energy to give you,” he whispers.

My heart drops at his statement, leaving me with nothing but the haunted images of him now painted on the walls of my mind.

“I won't let them hurt you again,” I whisper silently.

He whispers back. It's quiet, but it's there.

“That makes two of us.”