- Home
- Madeline Dyer
Divided Page 3
Divided Read online
Page 3
“You’re ours now.”
My chest tightens. My mouth dries immediately. Oh Gods. Raleigh’s strong. So strong. He’s not even here—he’ll be chasing after Corin—yet he’s got full control of my body. I try to fight against it—against him—again, and energy buzzes through my body, but it’s contained, can’t escape. I can’t do it. Can’t move.
And Corin’s out there. Running through the corridors? Or is he outside now? How much time has passed?
I try to turn to the window, but my head won’t move, and more pain cements itself into my neck. I breathe hard, then wrench my neck as I force my head to the left. Pain whips around me, jars me, but, for a second, I think I see a glimpse of a pale sand-colored building, shabby, with dirty marks on it, and trees behind. But then it’s gone, and I’m staring at the white wall next to the open doorway.
My breaths come quicker, deeper bursts that leave me panting and dizzy. White spots hover in front of my eyes, and I will Corin to make it out. He has to get out of here. He’ll be safe out there.
He’ll remain Untamed out there.
My heart’s beating too fast, then I taste slime at the back of my mouth. I try to bring my hand up to my mouth, but the effort is futile. My stomach twists. I gag, feel everything in my body moving. I look down; my dark leggings seem to be shimmering.
“Shania?”
Through bleary eyes, I see a figure pushing through the red, pulsing air. The siren gets louder.
“Shania?”
And then his arms are around me, holding me up on the chair. Three’s arms. He’s here. And it’s all right, because my brother’s here—we’re still together. Safe. And he’s concerned about me. He’s on our side still?
No. He called me Shania.
But he called me Seven before? Didn’t he? I blink hard, try to remember…only what? Hours ago…was it hours ago? When I saw him again for the first time since he was converted… He did say Seven, didn’t he?
“What’s happening?” Three’s voice is crisp, authoritative—his usual tone? I can’t tell. “Are you okay?”
I manage to shake my head, despite the pain—and then another wave of nausea hits. My body jolts, and I’m sick all over him.
Three shoves me to the side, but I don’t fall off the chair, just bounce back and sway—Raleigh won’t let me fall? Is he even aware of me, of what’s going on now? Or has he just commanded my soul—my body—to make me sit. Can I only sit here?
“He said that would happen if you try and resist.” Three stares at the vomit dripping from his sleeve in long gray strings. “You mustn’t fight Raleigh, Shania. He’s saving us all. Being a Chosen One is right. It’s good.”
He smiles, exuberant, and the artificial light catches the metal plate under his left eye. I focus on it for a moment, on him, then I look at his eyes. His mirror eyes. A sour taste fills my mouth, and I stare at the mirrors, barely register my own reflection in them, only seeing what he’s become. What he is now. My hands tremble.
“You must need a top-up,” Three says. A slight frown follows as he assesses me. “You’re running far too lean. All this anxiety—it’s radiating from you. Why didn’t you tell Raleigh how you felt?” He moves his hand toward his pocket. “Here, this will make you feel better.”
“No!” I manage to get the word out, but it’s weak. Insubstantial. Like it’s floating by, a cloud that dissipates, shredding my word into a million flakes that can never be put back together.
“No?” Three studies me. “Of course you need one—especially when the wildness is still in you.” Then he laughs, and it’s a laugh so unlike my brother’s that I go cold.
He’s not the same man. He’s Enhanced.
He’s not my brother anymore?
And it’s your fault. You didn’t rescue him.
I flinch, force that thought—the guilt—away.
Three produces a syringe of pale blue liquid and an encased needle from his pocket. I try to turn my head, but I can’t do anything except watch as he pulls the casing off the needle with a loud click. He attaches the needle to the vial with expertise, then holds up the augmenter.
Calmness.
Somewhere, deep down in my body, there’s a yearning for it. A distant memory stirs, trying to break free. My breathing quickens again.
No.
I can’t. Mustn’t. Got to stay Untamed.
But what’s the point? Raleigh’s got you now. They’ve got you. You’re theirs.
“You’ll feel a lot better,” Three says, moving toward me. He takes hold of my arm gently, tenderly. As if he’s still my brother, as if he doesn’t want to hurt me. “I’m going to put it here.”
He taps the top of my left shoulder. Not my bad one, but I still wince. He notices. Of course he does. He’s my brother—and he’s Enhanced; he wants everything to be perfect, for no one to hurt or suffer. Maybe he’ll give me a better room than the cell Raleigh allocated to me.
“You’ll feel better after this, I promise,” Three says, and I stare at his metal cheek, wonder why he’s not had it completely fixed. The Enhanced certainly have the technology to do it. Three inclines his head slightly. “You’re only feeling scared and uncomfortable because the Untamed part within you hasn’t shrunk or disappeared yet.” He shakes his head in a way which reminds me far too much of Raleigh. “There’s a war going on inside you, dividing you. Making you hurt. But as soon as the Untamed part has gone, you’ll feel better. You’ll be one of us properly. And I’ve heard Raleigh’s plans. We’ll save everyone, thanks to you.”
I can’t do anything as he pierces my flesh with the needle, as he injects the Calmness. I just stare at Three, my brother, bathed in flaring red. Coldness radiates through my shoulder, and I imagine the liquid simultaneously diving down the veins in my arms and across my chest, spreading, spreading, spreading….
“They’ll catch Eriksen. Don’t worry.” Three gives me a smile that I think is supposed to be sympathetic and encouraging. “I understand how scary it must be for you. But it’s just the unknown and the fighting within you. We’ll make you better—Raleigh’s promised that. And we’ll be safe. All of us, together. You, me, Eriksen, and Esther.”
“Esther?” My voice is a hushed whisper, but I’m glad I manage it. It takes effort, but I can speak. My voice is something Raleigh can’t seem to control. Not like my soul, my body. Because my voice is still me. Completely mine.
Three nods. I think he blushes. I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. But still—the blushing. His old feelings are still there; does that mean the Untamed part is too? I look into his eyes, and I try to see past the mirrors, try to see something deeper, something more…genuine.
“How is Esther?” I watch him carefully, need to see emotion from him. Real, true emotion. Not whatever artificial ones he’s been filled with.
Three smiles. “She is being saved now.”
“Saved? Converted?”
He nods. “She looked beautiful earlier—even though she was wild, unkempt, and full of raging emotions… She tried to stab one of our men, but she still looked beautiful. And she will look even more beautiful once all that Untamed darkness within her has been destroyed.”
“What conversion level?” Speaking’s getting easier. Raleigh’s letting me? Or am I getting stronger?
Three continues to smile. “Level one. They’re being gentle with her. I checked. Matt said she’s doing well. She can probably be released into society in a week, once she’s been monitored for any lingering Untamed thoughts.”
The siren seems softer now, yet at the same time, I know it hasn’t changed. It’s still blaring, I’m just more used to it…less upset by it…
Calmer.
My eyes widen. The augmenter—no.
I try to concentrate, try to breathe. Try to think clearly, but my head’s now too hot, like everything in me is heating up into a mass of molten metal that just needs to be ignored. The augmenter, it has to be.
Heavy footsteps pound down the corrid
or outside. A man’s coming, and I just know it’s Raleigh. The siren stops and the red light disappears as he enters the room.
Raleigh’s nostrils flare, and his upper lip curls. “He got out the far gates.” He spits the words like they’re missiles. “The Untamed parasite in him is strong, poisoning him.”
My mouth dries as I stare at him. I feel something strange in my chest, all fluttery. “Corin got away?”
Raleigh nods, and then he and Three are speaking fast. I try to pick out their words, but I can’t—it’s like there are too many things going on, and I can only concentrate on one. Only have the effort to concentrate on one.
The one thing that’s the most important.
He got away.
Corin got away.
And he left you.
I tense. But that’s good, I tell myself. Corin’s not here—not going to become Enhanced. And I need to focus on that. And maybe if he’s out there, he’ll find a way to get me out. And Esther. We don’t give up on our people…not the ones who’ve been taken to a compound…we always make arrangements to save them.
But Corin hasn’t got a rescue team working with him. It’s only him.
Him on his own…out there. In danger. No food, no water, no shelter…and anything could happen. My gut clenches. If he was here, he’d be safer….
No.
I mentally shake myself, but everything’s getting foggy.
“Not to worry,” Raleigh says, stepping closer. “My men will find Corin. He won’t be suffering out there for long. And,” he adds, turning to me, “if my team can’t locate him—you will.” His gaze bores into me, even though it’s just the mirrors.
“Me?” A metallic taste spreads across my mouth.
Raleigh nods, a sly smile taking over his face. “You’re the key to the Untamed. You’ve got to have some sort of Seer power in you that means we can find all the resisters and save them. And I intend to find out what that Seer power of yours is very soon.” His teeth get whiter. “The day isn’t over yet.”
Back in my cell, my dreams are strange.
At first, I’m sure I’m in the Dream Land—and hope surges within me. The Gods and Goddesses, they’ve realized it was a mistake—that I shouldn’t have been banished because it wasn’t my fault—and they’re going to help me. Because, before, Death said he’d be watching me—and he’s still watching me now, even though I’ve been banished?
I lift my arm up, and I see the gold Promise Marks there. But it’s okay because the Gods and Goddesses, they’ll get rid of them, and they’ll break Raleigh’s control over my soul. He won’t be my soul-commander then. I’ll be free, and I can get away, get out of this prison, get all the Untamed out, and we can win.
I look around the Dream Land. The desert landscape; soft, warm colors that welcome me. My eyes search every rock, every boulder, for a figure hiding.
“Death!” I scream, then I use his proper name: “Waskabe!”
But he doesn’t answer, doesn’t appear. And so I shout his name again. And again.
But there’s only silence.
And so I run, my feet kicking up plumes of dust around me. Specks of sand stick to my legs—bare legs. I’m wearing shorts. My own shorts, a pair I had at Nbutai. And I keep running, trying to find them, trying to find Death and those Goddesses with the long white dresses, and—
I need them!
But they’re not here.
No one’s here.
This isn’t the Dream Land, Seven.
I don’t know who says the words, but I turn, skid to a halt. Small, sharp stones lift up and attach themselves to my lower legs in a gritty mesh that constricts around each limb. I try to pull the stones off, but my fingers curl before I can use them, and I’m dragging my clenched hands across my legs, cutting my skin on the sharp edges of the gravel casing.
A chilling breeze wraps around me, and I look up. The sky is moody—darkening, angry—and there’s no bison.
This is the land of nightmares. Run, Seven.
And so I run—got to get away, need to get away—and I don’t know why, but I know that I must. So I keep running, but my legs are heavy; the stone layers become chains that wrap around my ankles and pull me backward.
I’m yelling and crying. I taste the salt of my tears, and I force myself to move.
They’re behind me. Who? I don’t know. But I know they’re there. Just the feeling of them being there, and my overwhelming urge to run.
Can’t look at them. Mustn’t look at them. Mustn’t let them catch me.
I keep going. My breathing gets labored. I’m running all wrong, the chains are jangling, and I can’t keep up this speed. My thighs burn. Lactic acid.
The wind picks up, and the wind is full of knives. Knives that slide in between the links of the stone chains around my legs and tear at my skin, cut me. My skin rips like paper, and I’m drenched in blood.
I scream louder, try to keep going. But the chains get hotter. They burn me, and the air gets wetter. Steam. The Fire Mountain. The volcano…gases.
“Save my baby!” a woman cries, and I turn, but I can’t see her. There’s no one here. Just the desert and the steam and—
Kyla’s in front of me. The little Zharat girl, with Manning’s axe in her head, splitting her skull open…and her eyes are empty, staring at me.
“You killed me.”
Her small hands reach for me. I step backward quickly, but her fingers get longer, longer. So much longer. They’re everywhere!
I scream and turn, but the desert sand is sticky. It holds me in place, and I can’t—
“Sev.”
My head jerks to the left.
Corin.
I’m reflected in his eyes, a permanent part of him. And he shouldn’t have mirror eyes, and I don’t know what he’s doing here—this place is dangerous. So dangerous. He shouldn’t be here. He’s unprotected.
“You traitor.” Corin spits the words at me. “You’ve joined them, after everything they’ve done—”
“Corin, I couldn’t—I—they’ve got my soul!” But the wind picks up, and I don’t think he’s heard.
He just stands there, mirror eyes narrowed. I try to reach him, force my legs to move, but they’re heavier now. Stone again? My muscles strain, but I get a step forward.
“Corin, no, you don’t understand!”
“You didn’t try.” He shakes his head, digs his hands deep into his pockets. “You didn’t even try, Sev.” His voice changes slightly. “No true Untamed Seer lets innocent people be converted without at least trying. But you ignored the warning. You let this conversion attack happen.”
I stare at him… No. No. He’s—they’re not his words! That’s what Death said—before, when…when I was being banished from the Dream Land.
“Corin….” I raise my hands in the surrender gesture, and I don’t even know why I’m doing it. I try to stop my hands, but I can’t. Someone’s lifting them up. I can feel their fingers around my wrists.
Corin points at me, and smoke erupts from his hands and dives toward me. “You are a traitor.” He punctuates each word with a snarl, and his mirrors flash. But they can’t be his eyes. He’s not Enhanced. “I do not take kindly to traitors.”
I try to turn away. Death does not take kindly to traitors.
“Look at me,” Corin snarls.
Oh Gods. But it’s not him. It’s a nightmare. That’s all it is. Corin’s not Enhanced and Corin’s not Death. But Death’s smoke wraps around me, clogs my nostrils, burns my throat…just like how the Loyalty did.
“Prove it, Sev.”
“What?” My shoulders sag. I’m shrinking. Corin’s getting bigger.
He takes a step toward me, and his elbows flash a deep purple. “Make sure the Untamed win the war.” He pauses, and when he speaks again he has Death’s voice, low and throaty. But sharp. So sharp. “It is your choice,” he says. “The winner—the surviving side—it is your choice. It is written in the augury: the Seventh One, born of Light, hold
s the strongest Seer powers. Her side will win the War of Humanity. The rest will be destroyed, and Death will call the Seventh One back to him at the end of the war.” He looks at me pointedly. “That is the only way this war will end. You are the Seventh One, born of Light. Prove you’re Untamed and make sure the Enhanced do not survive.”
But I don’t know how my side will win, how I will do it. I don’t know….
I start yelling, just words—don’t even know what I’m saying.
Corin coughs. “You know what to do,” he snarls. “Give me one less reason to hate you when I have your soul at the war’s end.”
And then—then he’s gone, and the fuchsia fire appears out of nowhere.
I don’t see it in time.
It slams into my body.
I fall.
Traitor, a voice screams. Be gone and never return.
I gasp as jolts run through my body. I’m lying on the ground. In blood. Steam is everywhere, but not as much as there was in the cave. I hear cries. Bright light. All around me. Above. The sky. I’m outside. I’m outside and…I’m on my own.
No. I’m not.
My dead fiancé is here.
I stare at him, clench my fists, feel my heart pound. My jaw clenches.
“Do not say anything,” Jed says, and his words catch in his thick accent for a second before they fly free.
Jed leans closer, and the steam gets thicker around us, binds us together. His face looks more like Raleigh’s now… His father. I feel sick. Start to gag.
“Touch me, S’ven…touch me now.”
I stare at him in shock, and the scenery around us changes. The desert disappears, and huge stone walls shoot up around us. The steam vanishes, and I can see the walls. Volcanic rock. I look around.
“It is our wedding night.” Jed smiles and holds his hand out to me. I stare at his hand, his Promise Marks have gone. Or they’re hiding. “Come on, I am waiting. We are perfectly alone, if that is what you are worried about.”
I stare at him, can’t stop looking at him. It looks like him. Looks exactly like him…but….
“But—but you’re dead… He….”
And why am I even talking to him? He’s dead and he’s the one who got me into this mess. And this is a dream—I know it’s a dream. A nightmare. Not true.