Chosen Ones (12 page)

But I didn’t know who to talk to. As I made my way through the compound, I stumbled into the only place I knew I could be alone, a place where I could let it all out.

I didn’t hesitate before shutting myself inside The Void. There was something alive inside of me that was worse than my childhood fear of this dark room. I stumbled against the wall, sliding into an almost sitting position. My shaking hands moved to my hair, and I began to pull it tight from my scalp. The tension of the panic attack was getting stronger.

My hands made their way over my mouth.

I did feel. I felt too much. All the time. I could barely hold on.

My hands weren’t enough to keep the scream, the pain, inside of me. I felt pain all the damn time. Every second of my life. I just needed to control it.

But not now.

Asking for control was asking too much.

I pressed my mouth against the cold cement walls of The Void. I hoped the pain felt by so many others who had shared this space lived inside its walls. I wanted their pain to consume mine.

With my lips against the wall I began to scream.

And scream.

And scream.

The council wanted to take all they could from me.

They wouldn’t stop.

Unless I made them.

Chapter 16

Tess,

It’s been months since I have sat down to write to you. Sometimes I wish you were older so I could say these things aloud. Maybe they would be easier to believe then. I can hardly believe any of it myself.

The things I have seen.

The council trusts me; I don’t know why. It’s been easy to work my way up at the training center. Two weeks ago, the Western sector voted to allow the continued creation and training of the chosen ones. Democracy? Right. Like the vote really mattered. They have been working on this for years, decades. It’s estimated they already have an army of fifty chosen ones ready to fight, and several more batches nearing completion. Apparently, this had been in the works even before the great war. They’ll write the history soon, and these facts will be hidden away.

Technology was advancing at such a fast rate in those days that the United States felt genetic engineering, creating an army because its own people were so unwilling to fight, was the only viable option.

Did you know when the bombs fell the first people rushed to safety were scientists?

A creator has taken me into his confidence, Tess. I don’t flatter myself to think he actually likes me—he wants to brag. To show someone he can play God. And I’m just smart enough to pretend his talents fascinate me, to pretend his whole lifestyle doesn’t make me feel sick. So many of our people are starving, Tess. Yet life in the training centers is one of pomp and circumstance. It’s a place filled with art. Every day for lunch this creator eats two pieces of buttered bread with his meal. Butter? But of course I should say nothing. He’s creating an army of men who will change our world.

He is God.

All those problems the council promised would go away haven’t. It’s like a virus—they just found a way to mutate and attack again, but this time the council is smarter. They remind us of the past and all its death. They pass out pamphlets along with soup in the shantytowns. They program television documentaries for those of us lucky enough to still have some semblance of normal life. And as the people watch, they become more and more willing to give up their rights. The council is so damn convincing. Flash the carnage and destruction of our recent past and we are willing to give up anything to avoid going back there.

Two more laws were passed in the name of protecting the Western sector. Now the military can enter any town and demand room and board. They say it’s to protect us. More and more skirmishes are making their way to our borders. The battles with the Easterners that used to exist in the Middlelands, the battles our government could deny because no right-minded citizen would travel there, can’t be covered up any longer.

I think they have different reasons for this law. I think big changes are coming to the way they will allow us to live.

There is also a new program aimed at offering employment to the fathers and sons living in the shantytowns: they are to convert old factories and buildings damaged by the great war into living quarters. This way so many of our people won’t have to live in tents anymore. Just like the appearance of our army, I think these laws are to weed out the rats. Anyone they believe could cause problems will be marked. They can watch us now, and we can’t say anything.

When did my own home become so dangerous?

Even the appearance of our hodgepodge army of men, who were forced to volunteer in an effort to feed their families, sends a message. As they replay over and over again the scenes of the chosen one killing those terrorists, we can look to the men who walk our streets and see the difference. We can witness our own human weakness. Physically, of course, the weaknesses are obvious, but we can detect another weakness, too—weakness of purpose. We don’t want to fight. We want to live. Something in us questions the need to destroy. The chosen one who fought those men held nothing but determination in his eyes. We can see the difference between them and us, and we want the chosen ones to fight our battles.

This creator told me that for many, many years they were unsuccessful in their attempts at artificial life. They didn’t just want to create humans; they wanted to perfect them. He said they lost hundreds of these things before finding the right way to bring them up. They could, for lack of a better term, grow them, but struggled with how they would be programmed. They had to be different from us naturals. They had to believe in the cause so much they wouldn’t hesitate to die for it. You could make them strong and agile, but if you couldn’t make them believe, none of it would matter.

You can put weapons into the hands of men, but if they can’t be convinced to use them, it’s pointless.

In the early days, there was no incubation period. A woman would be inseminated with the perfect embryo, painstakingly designed to represent our country’s greatest needs: strength, agility, persistence, endurance. Once the child was born, the mother would be paid and sent on her way. They trained a group of nurses and psychologists to raise the creations, but many were found wanting. Too much human contact, the scientists proclaimed. It didn’t matter what training these nurses and psychologists went through, they couldn’t keep our weakening emotion from their voices or their touches, and it made the chosen ones weak as a result.

They killed more than they kept during those early days before the war, back when it was all secret. And after the great war, it was a race between the Eastern sector and Western sector to see who could create their army first. The creator said they didn’t care how many chosen ones were killed in the process. They weren’t children to him anyway. The creator told me these things without emotion. I thought of you, and I wanted to vomit.

But soon they came up with a way to limit human contact. They built machines that could simulate a mother’s womb. It was decided to keep the young chosen ones in a comalike state for the majority of their childhoods, as this would eliminate human contact and influence outside of the scientists’ control.

It’s so bizarre. There are rooms and rooms of them, Tess, each holding a different batch. A different age. Three-year-olds, five-year-olds, ten-year-olds. They just lay there. They have no mothers or fathers. They won’t ever know what it’s like to be scared of the monster in the closet, or want to hold a damn teddy bear. Instead, for two hours every day us workers are asked to wheel in giant projectors. On loops, they play the same educational videos. We hook cords from the projectors into their brains. Their brains, Tess. Every time I do it and look down at those children’s faces, I want to scream.

But then I watch the video. It’s about us—our people, our faults, our need to self-destruct. Countless images of war, greed, lust, and destruction play across the screen. And I can’t argue against it because it’s all true. Everything they show is a part of our history, our humanity. But they don’t show them the whole story. They don’t see love or affection. And I know that when these things grow up, they’ll hate us.

They’ll hate you, and I can’t stop them.

The naturals think the council has created an army to protect us. They don’t understand that to the chosen ones, we’re the vermin that needs to be exterminated.

I come home every night and I want to hug you and your sisters. I pray you can feel things like love and show it. I can’t. Never have been real good at it. But in the end, I think our capacity to feel these emotions for one another might be the only thing that makes us different from the chosen ones. It might be the only good thing about being human.

I hope you’re different than me.

Chapter 17

No matter how much I scrubbed, I still felt evidence of the crime on my hands. I had helped the council kill Frank. I had strapped him down. I’d ended a human’s life. I should have said no. I couldn’t just separate people into chosen ones and naturals—the council was to blame for all of this. I understood whom to hate now. There would always be bad people, chosen and natural alike, but the council had played us all.

How long would I let the council control me?

I didn’t hear her come into the bathroom. Julia. She was blocking the entrance as I made my way to leave. “Can we talk?” she asked. Her eyes were blotchy and swollen. She made no attempt to look presentable. Her hair was disheveled and her clothes wrinkled.

I didn’t know if I wanted to talk to Julia, after I had forced myself to forget her. I didn’t want to be reminded of what could happen, what would happen, if I for one second lost control with James. Everything in life seemed to be so tightly wound, so controlled that it left one damn near exhaustion. No wonder so many around me simply gave up.

But then I remembered lack of communication was what had gotten her into this mess.

“Sure.” I nodded.

It was late and most people had turned in for the night. She glanced at herself in the mirror and frowned. A ticking time bomb. How strange it must be to know the very thing that lived inside of you would be your death, and yet you had to carry it around for nine months. Did knowing how it was all going to end make it easier?

I wished I had asked Emma.

Just thinking her name caused me such an intense, overwhelming amount of pain that I was unable to look at Julia again. Instead, I stared down at my feet.

“I wanted to warn you, Tess.”

I shook my head and swallowed the lump in my throat. “You don’t need to warn me. I know how this all works,” I said, my eyes darting to her stomach.

“Look, this isn’t easy for me. I don’t really know you, but Henry cares about you, and I care about him,” she confessed, wringing her hands. She took a deep breath. “I’m not really doing this for you. When I’m gone, you will be all he’ll have. The least I can do is help you out.”

She tilted her head to the side. “You have to know why they make us girls work there, right? We’re the entertainment. We’re expendable. And it doesn’t matter if you say no; they will just take it from you.”

I thought of the girl I’d helped clean up.

Julia cleared her throat. “There are ways to protect yourself, things I didn’t know about. He didn’t use them, of course. He also didn’t force me, but that doesn’t mean one of them won’t. I can get you some—”

“I don’t understand how what you and Henry did has anything to do with me,” I said. I didn’t even want to think of
that
.

“It’s not Henry’s.”

I felt the blood drain from my cheeks. “You mean, a chosen one and you…”

“Yes. I thought he liked me. He offered me anything I wanted. Books. Cigarettes. Alcohol. All sorts of contraband items. His name was George. Do you know him?”

I shuddered. I knew him all too well.

“Watch yourself, Tess. Let me know if you need anything.” And without another word she walked over, kissed me on the cheek, and headed out of the room.

I had a mission. And it made me feel alive.

I sat down at one of the mess hall’s tables, waiting. He noticed me instantly. Caught my eye, blushed slightly, and turned to walk out of the room.

I jumped up. The sound of the chair falling to the floor didn’t stop me. “Henry!” I knew it came out as a yelp—I hoped he could hear how desperate I was. How much I needed my friend. After my conversation with Julia, it was clear he needed me, too.

He stopped, frozen in his tracks. He didn’t turn to face me, but he didn’t walk away, either. I slowly approached him until we were inches apart. Then I reached out and touched his shoulder. How good it felt. He tensed but still didn’t turn around.

“Please. I need to speak to you. I wouldn’t ask, I wouldn’t dream of bothering you, if it wasn’t terribly important.”

He turned to face me; the passion in his eyes was frightening. A look I never saw in our childhood. I realized he was a man now, not the boy I’d known. I withdrew my hand quickly.

“You could never bother me.”

His voice sounded so different. It caught me off guard. Such sadness as he said it; he was breaking my already sick heart.

“Will you take a walk with me?” I asked.

“No.”

I inhaled sharply.

“Please, Henry. Please, just a small little walk.”

“It’s not good if we’re seen together,” he said roughly, glancing over his shoulder.

This confused me. Who here would care if we talked?

“Then let’s go somewhere we won’t be seen,” I countered. I grabbed his hand and it felt so warm. “Please.”

He didn’t say anything, but at least it wasn’t no.

“Please,” I said again.

“All right.” I could see he felt defeated.

We didn’t talk until we were outside the compound’s walls. As we stood in silence, both of us daring the other to speak first, I saw him glance toward the forest line—the forest where once he and his family had attempted to run off.

This was going to be more difficult than I expected.

“I need you to tell me what happened when you tried to escape.”

He went pale and took a step back from me. “Don’t.”

“I need to know.”

“Please, don’t ask me to do this.”

“I don’t have a choice. Not anymore.”

“We’ve known each other over a decade and you’ve never asked me before. Why now?” he replied angrily, throwing his hands into the air.

“Templeton,” was all I offered.

He took two steps toward me, bridging the distance between us, almost close enough to touch me. Whatever anger he had was now replaced with fear. “That place isn’t safe, Tess.”

“I know.”

Utterly unsure of myself, I slowly placed a hand against his chest. He swallowed and looked away from me. It felt different from touching James, but I didn’t mind it as much as I should. “It’s important, Henry. Please. Tell me.”

He grabbed onto the hand on his chest. “I’ve been so lonely without you. Did you know that?”

I felt my throat go dry. “You have Julia,” I charged.

“She isn’t you. I mean, I care about her, but damn, she isn’t you. Hell, she’s half crazy, I think. She spends more time ranting about the council than trying to have any sort of relationship with me. But I guess that’s part of the appeal.”

I frowned. She cared about more than that. She cared enough about him to warn me. But maybe she hadn’t mentioned our talk to him. “What happened when you tried to escape?” I asked again. I had to change the subject. We were getting too close to discussing things we could never come back from.

“They did it.”

“Who?”

“The chosen ones. They attacked us.”

I shook my head, but Henry continued. “They caught my family. I thought they were going to take us back. I wanted them to; I didn’t like being out there. I watched what they did.” I tried to pull my hand from his, but he only held on tighter. “What? You said you wanted to know.”

“You’re lying.” I stepped away from him.

“Am I?” He grabbed me by the arms and pulled me to him. I tried to get away, but he held onto me, pressing his chin against my forehead. His breath tickled me as he spoke.

I had awoken something in him that would never be able to sleep again.

“The council couldn’t let us get away. If we did, then anyone could leave. We would have destroyed the sense of fear they’d worked so hard to create.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? And why would they let you live?” I asked.

“Because I was a child. I didn’t understand what I saw. Hell, maybe some part of me was convinced they’d deserved it. I buried it inside me. And they let me live because they needed a symbol. I was the boy who was saved. They wanted the naturals to trust them.”

Henry touched my cheek. I was surprised by the goose bumps that appeared down my arms as I struggled to catch my breath.

He watched me in silence for a long time before stepping away. “But I’m going to show them they can’t keep me quiet.”

He sounded so dangerous, so crazed.

“What are you talking about?”

He stopped and stared at me. He looked like a man destroyed. “They took her, too.”

“Julia?”

“Yes. I liked her. I was beginning to forget you, and she was good. I knew there were limits, but I finally felt normal. Then it happened, and she got so messed up. Talking crazy. And I started to believe her. I started to agree. I don’t think I could go back to what I was before.”

I nodded.

“Our women are theirs to screw with. And if the chosen ones can kill them in the process, so much the better.”

“They’re not all like that,” I whispered.

“Oh, Tess. Don’t tell me they got you, too.”

“No!” I exclaimed, almost offended. “I haven’t…I wouldn’t. It’s just, I’ve seen things since I’ve been there. And it’s not all black and white.”

His jaw clenched.

“Yesterday I watched a creator kill a chosen one because he was sick. Something was wrong with him, and they ended his life. Like he was nothing.”

“They
are
nothing, Tess. They aren’t even human,” Henry replied through his teeth.

“That’s not true! I know one of them. He plays the piano and reads. He doesn’t want to be a killer. He would never.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes. I am.”

And despite not being sure of anything, I was sure of James.

Call it instinct.

Henry shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at me. “You said you watched them kill one?”

I nodded.

“How?” he asked, his voice taking on a different tone. He almost sounded calm.

“They injected him with something.”

“That simple?”

“There was nothing simple about it.”

He was silent.

“Maybe it’s not the chosen ones’ fault. At least not completely,” I said. “My first day there they brought me to this room down in the lower level of Templeton. They were just lying there, young chosen ones. Alone, waiting to be awakened. They had no sense of the world around them. And even when they open their eyes, they have no choice over what they are shown in the videos. If most of them are monsters, it’s because the council made them that way.”

Before I knew it, Henry’s hands were holding my face. He was making me nervous. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t safe.

“What do you want from me, Tess?”

He was scaring me. Not just the desperation I heard but also how close he was. He abruptly let me go and began backing away.

“Wait. I want you to help. We have to find a way to fight back, to stand up to the council. This can’t be the only life I get to live. I refuse to accept it,” I proclaimed.

“Did you ever wonder what makes someone a terrorist?”

“What?”

“Those men who strapped the bombs onto their children’s chests? You ever wonder what would drive someone to do that? I have. I think I can understand it now. Some of us can’t just sit silent waiting for it all to end. We want to end it ourselves.”

His words caused a chill to settle over me.

“Besides,” he continued, “if I was on the winning side, the side with the power, they wouldn’t call me a terrorist. That’s the jacked up thing. Even more so than the violence and death.”

“Shut up. Stop talking like that. There has to be another way. Maybe if we could get the people of the compound to listen, we could do something.”

“What, and wake them from their naps? No one would listen.”

“Then maybe we can try and leave. Take our chances in the wild.”

“You really think they would just let us?”

I sighed with frustration. I wasn’t going to give up. Henry’s story had only fueled my fire.

“Please don’t ask me to see you again.”

“I won’t,” I said, biting my cheek to stop the pain that threatened my heart.

“I would give anything for things to be different. Anything. If I could be your friend, Tess, if I could…but it wouldn’t be good for either of us, especially now.” He stopped and muttered what I thought was a curse. Then he threw one more glance to my face and ran.

I felt it again: loss. Except this time it seemed permanent. I was alone.