Chosen Ones (18 page)

Chapter 29

I knew the reasons he was created. Violence. Destruction.

Maybe in that room, the moment I’d confessed the lie, told him that even in the council’s eyes, the people who had given him life, he was worthless, something in him died.

His humanity.

I talked to no one during my chores after the council dismissed us from the fight. I dusted and mopped as if my life depended on it. It was better to be busy than to think of what I’d just witnessed.

I saw James standing at the end of the hallway.

He didn’t move. His gaze was intruding, forceful as he took a step toward me. I took a step back in return. I was done fighting. I simply turned around and walked the other way. I didn’t wait to be dismissed.

“Tess.”

He was following me. I could feel the weight of his authority swallowing me, he was so close. He almost touched my heels with his toes.

“Tess.”

I kept walking. His hands grabbed onto my waist and he pulled me from behind into the shadows of an adjoining hallway. I reached out and touched my hands to the wall, pressing my forehead against its cold stone. He didn’t let go of my waist. I felt his breath caress my ear.

“Let me explain.” His tone conveyed he would whether I wanted him to or not.

“I don’t care.”

It wasn’t true. I cared too damn much. It was exactly what made James and me so dangerous.

“Don’t do that. Don’t you shut down on me. You can fool everyone else, but not me,” he pleaded.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

He turned me around so I was facing him. His hands were in my hair.

“Can’t you see what they make me do? They want me to destroy you. They want to destroy any sense of self I have. Don’t let them, Tess. I need you. You need me. I lost control. It won’t ever happen again.”

I shook my head. “You can’t promise that. This is what you were made for. Violence is your true nature. It’s better if we stop fooling ourselves that we can be anything but what the council wants us to be.”

“You have no idea what it is like. All day they fill my head with such stories, stories about your people. Stories about waste, immorality, hate. They want me to hate you. I fight so hard against my nature. But I’m no monster. I don’t want to be soulless.”

He leaned his forehead against mine. “I had another dream, Tess. They’re going to come for you. They’ve assigned me to a compound. I’ll be leaving soon. And I don’t know if this dream is real or just some nightmare. If it’s real we have to come up with a plan. There’s something you should know—”

“Let me.”

“What?”

“I’m supposed to die,” I whispered.

He punched the wall beside my head. I tried not to scream. He forced me to look at him. “I am alone and miserable; man will not associate with me; but one as deformed and horrible as myself would not deny herself to me. My companion must be of the same species and have the same defects. This being you must create.”

The words Julia had spoken. What did they mean?

His hands fell away from me. He looked dejected.

“We aren’t helping each other. Not really,” I said. “Maybe it’s better to live in a world you don’t understand, because if you understand it, it becomes unbearable. And we keep forcing each other to see the truth.” I started to move away from him.

And he let me go.

I was on display in the cafeteria that Sunday during my return to the compound. Everyone was talking about how I’d tried to stop the fight between James and George. What was a Templeton girl doing getting between two chosen ones? Wasn’t my job to merely follow orders? Rumors were flying about my relationships with both boys. I was the fallen girl. It didn’t matter if the story was true.

I could hear the whispers swim around me, never directly touching me, but never completely leaving my presence either. They were all talking about it. They all knew. I pushed my plate of food away. It was a pretense; my attempt to pretend that life could go on as normal would no longer work. James had lost control, and as much as I searched for an explanation I could only come up with one—he was made to be violent.

I decided to quit trying to pretend my world wasn’t falling apart and attempt to get some sleep. The thought of not seeing James made my heart skip a beat in a most painful and final way.

I stared numbly at the floor as I walked across the mess hall. I almost reached the door when I heard my name called. I knew the voice, of course, just as I knew I wouldn’t be able to escape the confrontation. Henry never could just leave things well enough alone. With a heavy sigh, I turned to acknowledge him but found myself unable to look into his face, scared of what I would find there. I flinched as his hand suddenly found its way to my chin, so I would be forced to look at him.

His fingers felt rough against my face, though not in a completely unwelcomed way. I knew it wasn’t because it was Henry touching me, but more because I was being touched. Not out of anger but out of something less severe.

Concern, perhaps?

I bit my lip to stop it from trembling. I wanted to fall into his arms, let him keep me safe. Now that my protector had abandoned me I realized how nice it was to have one. I had been on my own so long, I never knew what it could be like to have someone out there in the world who thought of you and your well-being before his own.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” I managed to mumble, more to control my bizarre desire to wrap my arms around him than to hear what he had to say.

“What would you like me to say, Tess?” His voice was soft as he spoke, but I could sense something smoldering underneath it. Henry sighed. “We need to talk about some of your actions.”

I laughed bitterly. “
My
actions? You’re the last person I would take advice from concerning decision making.”

He clenched his jaw. “Oh, of course. Obviously you’re an expert at making decisions regarding your welfare. Let’s see: in the few weeks you have been a part of the workforce, you managed to fall for every one of their tricks. Let’s not forget what everyone is calling you.”

“Don’t you dare,” I growled.

“Just listen. Please. What happened with Julia—”

“What happened with Julia proves you’re a coward! You helped her and then you let her die,” I charged.

“She was dead already. We both know that,” he snapped. He took a step even closer to me. Some of the other naturals started to pay attention to our heated conversation.

Henry looked around and then leaned close to my ear. “I am alone and miserable; man will not associate with me; but one as deformed and horrible as myself would not deny herself to me. My companion must be of the same species and have the same defects. This being you must create,” he whispered.

First Julia. Then James. And now Henry? My eyes widened. “What does that mean?” I asked.

Henry gave the slightest shake of his head. “Just be ready, Tess. Change is coming.”

Chapter 30

Deportation.

It had been quite a while since the compound had gone through a selection. Deportation meant certain members of the community would be transported from this compound to another, for various reasons. Most of the time it was the elderly or the very ill who found themselves on the list. They were sent to compounds better suited for their needs.

Our own medical center was shabby at best, so we were assured our deportees were placed in more comfortable situations. In fact, many often expressed joy at being chosen, rejoicing as if they had won the lottery—dreams of pampered living glowing around them. Others did not. These were the people who made deportation difficult at times. If your name was on the list, it was mandatory. And you—only you—were allowed to go; you couldn’t take any other family members. As these people were chosen for the best living conditions, spaces were limited as it was. Still, some of the good-byes were horrendous to watch.

Slowly, everyone in the compound made his and her way into the mess area. It wasn’t like the wrangling. People weren’t so tense, more like curious. It had been at least a year since the last deportation. I assumed that like me everyone was wondering why now and whom they were going to take. It was a relief to think about someone else’s problems for a change. I didn’t focus too long on the selfishness of that thought.

I grabbed Louisa as soon as I saw her in the crowd, ignoring her protests that she wanted to stand with her friends. I wasn’t letting her out of my sight.

The two chosen ones in charge of our compound arrived.

“Deportation Decree 765893 has been put into effect. Deportation is for the safety and health of all natural citizens. Deportation is mandatory for those citizens whose numbers are called. The selected will have twenty-four hours to get their affairs in order. Only those people may leave this compound. Each selectee will be able to bring with them one bag each.”

I couldn’t help but smirk as I spied an older man across from me mumbling the words along with the chosen one. We all knew what deportation meant, and I suspected that like myself, the old man hated the formality of it all. The chosen one proceeded to pull out a roll of parchment paper. It was crisp, its glaring whiteness cutting across the room of gray.

“The following inhabitants of compound 321 are scheduled for deportation two days from now: 23647, 36897, 336093, 25670…”

Soon the voice of the chosen one flowed into melodic notes, slithering around my ears. The numbers began to merge one into the other. They were just numbers anyway. In moments like these, it was possible for me to ignore the individual. And for once, much to my shame, it brought me comfort to see someone besides myself suffer. Selfish, heartless girl.

One by one, sporadically placed within the confined space, I saw them react. First, a look of recognition crossed their faces at hearing their number being called. Some, as I suspected, looked relieved—finally, they would have the medical treatments that would ease their suffering. Usually these positive responses stemmed from those people who were alone, no loved ones left to leave. For others, watching the families react when they heard a loved one’s number called was difficult. I wanted to engross myself in their pain in order to explain mine. Pain touched everyone. I didn’t want to be special.

I saw a woman begin to sob quietly into an old man’s shoulder. Could she be his daughter? I saw him whisper in her ear. Words of comfort? I couldn’t read his facial expression.

Then I noticed something new. A man was yelling. People were jostling about. I saw Robert dart from my side to help hold a man in place. Was he intending on charging the chosen one? Didn’t he understand this was how it worked? Next to him, a woman was clutching onto two children, a boy and a girl, not much older than ten. The little girl had her arms wrapped around her mother’s waist, her head buried into her side. She was crying as well. The boy was reaching toward his father; his mother struggled to keep him in her grasp.

I tried to force my mind to separate from the noise in my ears—I needed to understand what was going on. A new outcry distracted me. Another man was now yelling from the opposite side of the room. He moved so he was standing in front of his wife. I could vaguely see her hands shakily reach around his hand in what looked like an attempt to calm him.

The whole common room was talking at once. The chosen one stood still, firmly placed, never budging and never flinching. I realized—this wasn’t like before. In the past deportation had been for the elderly and ill, and now they were taking women and children. The definition of deportation had somehow changed without anyone telling us.

More numbers were being read off. The chosen one kept his voice calm, never once pausing to allow the outcries of my people their proper space. I could barely hear the numbers. I didn’t want to hear them. I had wished to witness other people’s pain but this was simply too much. I’d never meant like this. It was different to take people who truly wanted to leave, but these wives and these children didn’t want deportation. Was there nothing left of our own in our lives?

My eyes met Louisa’s. How odd they looked. She was petrified. I noticed Jacobson’s gaze on me as well. Something cold was sliding up my spine. It crawled inside my veins, wrapping around my heart. Fear. It was in this moment that I saw Henry’s face. His eyes were squinting, a vein in his forehead protruding, his jaw fixed rigidly. Why were they looking at me in such a way? I tried to move, to turn from their sickening glances, but my body was trembling. It knew something that my soul didn’t yet understand.

Slowly it clawed its way into the dark corners of my soul, the places that still survived—they had called my number. The truth weaved its way in and out of the strands of hope that held my tattered soul together; the one damaged by the loss of my father, the loss of Emma, the loss of Julia, the betrayal of James. James. His dream. He had told me I was on a list, that they would come for me. Deportation didn’t mean a better life. It meant no life at all.

I had been wrong. The chosen ones had come up with a way to get rid of my people after all. They wouldn’t wait for our slow and sure extinction. The chosen ones had learned from the past, and they would use its secrets to destroy us. We had blindly ignored our history, comforting ourselves with the belief that the horrors of the times before ours could never be repeated. We stupidly believed mankind had evolved.

No,
science
had evolved, and our own lack of perspective would be our downfall. Every number they called, every person that number belonged to, would surely and quickly die. Their deaths would not be mourned. There would be no public outcries, no promises of revenge; the chosen ones had learned how to take those away from us as well. To deport women and children now was to flaunt their growing power. They were no longer afraid to show us they were in control. And there was nothing we could do about it.

The noise was monstrous, growing in strength every second. I felt like I would go crazy from it all. Should I warn those whose numbers were called? Would they even believe me? Would telling them they went to their deaths, forever separated from those they loved not by distance but by blinding finality, keep it from happening? We couldn’t stop them. We had let it go too far to turn back.

I wasn’t sure I could live with the guilt if I
didn’t
tell them. Surely, those husbands who stood by their wives, the sons who were to say good-bye to their fathers, would not just sit idly by. Surely,
some
of my people would want to fight back. It would mean their demise—of that I was certain. Would their deaths then be on my head, too? I wasn’t brave enough to make this decision. It wasn’t fair. I was only sixteen.

It was stifling inside the mess hall, my skin blotchy and red from the heat. I tasted something unfamiliar in my mouth. Blood. I had been biting down hard on my tongue. I could feel every inch of my body slowly tensing up, attempting to protect itself. I had to get out of there. I knew I had time to think. They wouldn’t take us for two days. And I wouldn’t be able to think clearly in here.

James.

I wondered if he had seen this. If he knew this was the way it was going to end for me. Did he care? The noise in my head was maddening.

I forced my legs to move, stumbling blindly toward the exit, but then I felt someone grab my hand—it was Louisa. She was crying. This unnerved me. I was already so fragile, and this wasn’t the Louisa I knew. I shuddered. She would be truly alone now. Like me, Emma had been her only confidante. Like me, she had lost her when Robert had entered our lives. How pathetic I was to not realize that we would have understood each other perfectly. Would Robert continue to look after her? Maybe Henry? I needed to make sure of it.

“What are we going to do?” she asked, her voice shaky. It was in this moment I knew she was still a child. She had been abandoned by the world that was meant to protect her.

I didn’t know if I was strong enough to do what needed to be done. But for once, I would not be selfish. I would place her needs above my own. How I craved to wrap her in my arms, to share one moment of sisterly affection to carry me to whatever fate had in store. This would comfort me but destroy her. It would be easier for her to deal with my absence if she hated me. Yes, that was something I had learned in my sixteen years of life—hatred was its own shield. If I could only make her loathe me, I would save her the pain of loss.

“Stop being a baby. They’re simply moving me to a nicer compound,” I replied in a dismissive tone.

I saw her eyes well with tears. She was biting her bottom lip. She looked down at our hands before finally saying, “But I don’t want you to leave. What will I do with no one here? I know I haven’t been the best sister but I promise I will try harder. Please, can’t you ask them to let you stay? I swear I will be better.”

She was begging now. It was unbearable.

“Just because you’re jealous doesn’t mean you have to put on such a self-satisfying show. You’ll be just fine without me, I promise you.”

“Please,” she begged once more, her voice cracking.

God was surely testing me. “Stop being pathetic, Louisa. What would my absence mean anyway? Do you think my staying would change our relationship? It wouldn’t. We would still be the way we are now. Emma was the only thing that kept us together, and she’s gone now. Nothing can change that. Just like nothing can change the way I feel about you.” As I said this I tried to muster all the venom I possibly could.

I was wounding her, causing her pain. For once, I was aware of her as a child, as a younger sister, as someone I was meant to keep safe but had only harmed. I’d never loved her as I should have. This would be my act of love, and she would never see it as that.

Louisa stiffened and bit the inside of her lip. It was here, in this very moment, that I watched her grief turn into something else, something I had at once dreaded to see and was thankful for—anger. Her hand suddenly flew at my face. I barely had time to protect my already injured cheek. Her hand bounced off of mine, the hand that was meant to hold hers. It had worked. She was running from me now. I could hear a wild sob break free from somewhere deep inside her.

I was alone now.

They were going to take me away from Louisa. She would go to Templeton in my place. They would get to her. I couldn’t let that happen. But, God, if it did, I had to make her stronger.

It was unbearable. My chest felt as if a much too heavy weight was chained to it, and there was no hope of finding the key to unlock it. I was damned. Had I damned everyone else around me as well?