Chosen Ones (22 page)

Chapter 36

I kept having the same nightmare. I knew the memory was haunting me for a reason, but I couldn’t figure out why.

I was six the first time I saw the mangled body of a rejected chosen one. I didn’t understand a lot of things back then. Now, at sixteen, some things had become quite a bit clearer. Others I still didn’t understand.

My father bringing in the body of the chosen one is near the top of the list.

I shouldn’t have seen it, but without a proper education us children had a lot of free time. The schools had been closed a few months prior. There were plenty of excuses thrown around to appease the parents at the time. Some claimed that education would no longer be needed once the compounds were completed. We wouldn’t work. We would have no need for reading and writing. We would want for nothing. Besides, books were filled with stories of emotions and selfish personal wants. These were the very things that had brought our society near extinction.

Some people claimed our local sector couldn’t afford to search for and hire a new teacher. Our previous one had disappeared without warning six months prior. We had a war going on, and securing a new teacher just didn’t seem all that important.

Those who wanted to educate their children would have to find the time to do it on their own. The council would provide simple guidebooks for these parents.

My father worked ridiculous hours for the council, so I never expected him to become my teacher. My mother mostly kept to her liquor, so she wasn’t much help. Emma, God bless her, meant well when she tried to teach little Louisa and me, but since she found it damn near impossible to raise her voice, she couldn’t really keep us in check.

I didn’t mind not going to school. I had friends to play with all day. Our house was a pretty popular destination for the sector kids, since we were one of the few with a working television, thanks to my dad’s job with the council. The sector had a large screen television brought out for council announcements, but a personal television set was a rarity. There’s no doubt that most of my friends only liked me for the TV, but at the age of six, I didn’t realize.

It’s funny the things the council could supply us with in such desperate times. Electricity. Televisions. But I was beginning to suspect it had only been because it suited their purposes. How much did they keep from us in order to create a people so frenzied with poverty they would allow their government to do anything it wanted?

One day I woke up anxious and exhilarated. They were scheduled to replay the very first public showing of the chosen ones’ power. For some reason I felt compelled to watch it every single time it aired. Mom had been having a good few weeks, so it seemed safe to invite my friends over to watch as well.

But whatever had kept my mom sober for that brief amount of time had crumbled. When I trotted into the kitchen that morning, I saw my older sister holding back her hair as she threw up into the sink. Louisa sat crying in the corner. She always cried when our mother got like this.

My older sister looked back at me when she heard me enter. Sympathy was written all over her face. She always tried to hold us all together.

I used to wish she were my mother.

I wanted to cry, but even then I saw that it would be pointless. I left without a word, slamming the door to the room I shared with my sisters. Even though our house was still small, and there were weeks we went without things like sugar and eggs, at least we had a house.

There was no way to get word to my friends in time before they all started showing up. The phone lines had been down for weeks.

I hid underneath my bed as Emma answered the door time and time again, telling each friend that I had come down with the flu and we couldn’t watch TV that day. I wish I had thanked her for it before she died. I never told her how much it meant to me that she saved me.

After the last friend left, she knocked quietly on the door. “Tessie? Mama, Louisa, and I are going to take a walk and get some fresh air. I think it’s just the thing to get us all feeling right this morning. You want to come?”

Yes, I wanted to go. If it could be just her and me I would go anywhere.

I didn’t answer.

“Please, Tessie.”

“Please, Tessie,” I heard little Louisa begin to chant. The girl just wanted to be loved. She didn’t care by whom.

After a while my older sister gave up. I didn’t blame her—at the moment my mother was the bigger crisis. I stayed hidden under my bed while they were gone. There wasn’t really anything else to do.

I’m not sure how much time passed before I heard the front door open. I scrunched farther under the bed—I wasn’t ready to see the paleness of my mother’s face, or the way Louisa clutched onto her, forever hoping her love was enough to make Mom quit drinking. Louisa didn’t understand what was going on, not at all. All she knew was sometimes Momma didn’t want her at all.

Much to my surprise, I heard my father’s voice travel through the house. “Anyone home? Girls?”

I should have answered. Especially when he called out again I should have, but I stayed silent. I wanted to remain in my own little world for as long as possible.

“What the hell we doing, Charlie?”

My father wasn’t alone. The voice sounded faintly familiar, but I couldn’t identify whom it came from.

“Just help me bring him into the bathroom. He’s losing a lot of blood.”

Was that my father’s voice? It sounded so unlike him that I had to question it.

After a moment of silence, I heard a strange shuffle as both men let out muffled groans.

I crawled a little closer to the light that attempted to reach me under the bed.

I could hear the bathroom door swing with force against the wall, followed by something crashing to the floor. I would have sworn my mother was home, but I knew she wasn’t. These noises made up my mother’s symphony.

I slowly pulled myself onto my feet. Something inside of me was forcing my legs to walk toward that bathroom. It was the same part that always had to watch the television anytime they talked about chosen ones. An odd obsession I just didn’t understand at the time.

I just needed to know.

I always needed to know.

I pressed myself against the wall near the bathroom door so no one would see me.

“This is bad, Charlie. This is really bad,” the other man called out.

“What was I supposed to do, just let him die? They were going to kill him. We’re not murderers, Jacobson.”

Jacobson let out a short, bitter laugh. “Yeah. How much longer we gonna be able to claim that?”

My father heaved a sigh.

“We won’t get away with this,” Jacobson charged.

“You don’t know that. We can ask for their help. I think we’ve proven what side we’re really on.”

“I don’t think anyone is going to be able to help cover this up.”

“Well, maybe I just don’t give a damn anymore,” my father snarled.

The sound of running water made my eavesdropping near impossible.

“Help…lift…up,” said my father.

I could tell by their heavy breathing and grunts that this task was easier said than done. I figured the two of them would be distracted by the task, and it would be safe for me to take a peek.

I wasn’t ready.

I couldn’t see much over my father and his friend, who sat on their knees tending to the chosen one in the tub. I could see the top of a head—a damp, bloodied head of sandy blond hair. One of the thing’s hands was clutching onto the edge of the bathtub, and I noticed the water faucet was turned to cold. I remembered my father doing this when Louisa had one of her spells. It had been important to get her fever down.

The chosen one wasn’t making much noise, but I could tell he was in pain by the tension in the hand that gripped the tub. I could see one of his eyes widen as he spotted me over my father’s shoulder. The chosen one lifted his head to get a better view, and when he did I swear I saw a look of disappointment cross his face.

Whatever he had been searching for, it certainly wasn’t me.

As he looked, I saw the perfection of his features. Even bloodied I saw beauty. I couldn’t make out his whole face, just a chin and the outline of his cheek. But it was a beautiful outline. His eyes were just as they appeared on television—icy blue.

There was a chosen one in my house.

A noise issued from my lips. I’m still not sure if it was of excitement or fear—maybe both. My father turned on me with such quickness that it made me a little dizzy.

If he was surprised to see me, he didn’t show it. Even in the biggest of crises, my father kept his mask firmly in place.

His voice was calm when he spoke. “Tess, can you get me some ice?”

I didn’t hesitate a second before running into the kitchen. By the time I got back to the bathroom with the bucket of ice, my father had pulled closed the shower curtain, blocking my line of sight.

I handed my father the ice with a frown. He actually laughed at me.

“I take it you got something you want to ask me?”

Jacobson kept his eyes on the floor as my father crouched in front of me, waiting for my question.

“I got lots of things to ask you,” I replied.

I didn’t know how to hold my tongue.

My father laughed again.

“You won’t tell the other girls about this, will you?”

I shook my head. Of course I wouldn’t.

“Go to your room. I’ll be there in a bit.”

It was a while before my father came into my room. Maybe hours, I’m not quite sure. I sat on my bed waiting patiently. Every once in a while I would get up and run my hands across the spines of the few books that graced my and my sisters’ bookshelf. More and more books made it onto the banned booklist every day, and our bookshelf was getting emptier and emptier.

I could barely read, but I still loved the things. I loved the way they felt in my hands. I loved the way they smelled.

By the time my dad came into the room, I could hear my mother and sisters in the kitchen. My father shut the door behind him and took a seat on the bed. Much to my dismay, he didn’t mention what I’d seen in the bathroom. Not once.

He pretended as if it had never happened.

“Tess.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Every night after dinner you will spend two hours studying with me.”

“What?”

“You can’t afford to go through life without an education. You will work on your reading with me every night. If I can’t be here, you will sit still and listen to your sister. Do you understand me?”

I didn’t. “But I don’t want—”

“I don’t remember asking you what you wanted, little girl. You will work on your reading. You will be read to every night. You will remember the stories you hear. You will commit them to memory, and you will learn from them. Do you hear?”

I looked up at my father, unsettled by the mystery man before me. “But I thought the books were bad.”

“Anything is bad in the wrong hands, Tess. But you’re a smart girl. You gotta be ready for what’s coming.”

“What’s coming, Daddy?”

This question stopped him. For a few moments he was unable to speak. Whatever he was thinking of saying never made it to his lips.

“Just do what you’re told.”

I nodded.

“Open your hands.”

My father placed a book into my open palms, a book I remembered having to remove from our bookshelf sometime back. I remembered it only because I’d liked the title. It was called
A Tale of Two Cities
.

I looked up at my father. I knew this wasn’t allowed. But he made no explanation for the book. He didn’t explain why it was so important to educate me and not Louisa. He didn’t give any reasons for how he had kept this book. One thing was certain—my father had secrets.

His secrets became my own. I began to sound out the words on the first page. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.

James, surprisingly, was a very heavy sleeper. He barely budged as I crawled out of bed and headed to the kitchen. Robert had been smart enough to bring a supply of food and water for our journey; I didn’t think anyone would mind too much if I had a snack. We were down to having only one hot meal a day. I was used to three square meals in the compound. The whole run-for-my-life thing was going to take some adjusting.

And the toughest part of the journey hadn’t even started yet.

We were to hike a good twenty miles over the next couple days to meet the group who would take us to our new home. That was only the first leg of the trip.

“It’s not nice to steal from the group’s stash, Tess.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Jesus.”

“Nope. My name is Henry, remember?” he asked with a grin.

“Shut up,” I replied, taking a seat across from him at the kitchen table. I still wasn’t sure where we stood. I wasn’t even sure I knew him at all.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Want to go take a walk? Explore like the old days?” He raised an eyebrow.

I nodded. Despite everything that now stood between us, I didn’t hesitate. I wanted to see more of the world that had existed before me. “Here. Wear this,” he said, standing and walking over to me, placing his jacket on my shoulders. I was suddenly very much aware of the fact that I was standing in my pajamas, and he was fully clothed.

Henry laughed good-naturedly at my discomfort and headed out the door.

It took a solid hour of walking before we found what once was called civilization. I don’t know what I expected to find in the darkness of this forgotten city, but I certainly didn’t find hope. We were both quiet as Henry aimed his flashlight on various symbols of the destruction that had ravaged this place: overturned cars, windows smashed out of buildings, light posts bent in half. I thought I even saw human bones, but Henry moved the beam so quickly that I couldn’t be sure.

We walked for hours. The more we explored, the more I realized this was only the beginning. Leaving the compound didn’t mean a better life; it just meant a different one. Every world I stepped foot in seemed decided for me.

Henry sighed as we reached the house. “Tess?”