Heightened: The Federation Series (22 page)

The morning sun is brutal. It hits my face, and I cover my eyes with the blanket. My face is dry. I have no more tears. I sit up and head to the bathroom.

I turn the shower on hot and allow it to run over my body. It hurts, but I don’t turn it down. I step out onto the rug. I let the water fall off of me. I stand in front of the mirror. I see my face. I go through the motion.

I walk into the other room.

Adam is sitting on my bed.

“Why is your skin so red?”

“I took a hot shower,” I say. I don’t look at him. All I can see is him and Hannah together. I will never be able to look at him, without seeing her. I hear his words; he doesn’t love me, he never will.

I’m naked. I feel him looking at me. I wonder if I compare to her, I sigh and smile.

“The guest will be arriving for brunch,” he says. “You’ve been…odd, lately. Try and keep it together. There are going to be some important families here today. We need them.”

“Odd,”
I think to myself,
“that doesn’t even come close to what I’ve been.”

“Did you hear me?”

“Yes,” I smile and lie. “It’s been difficult to adjust and with my ankle and the pain. I’m sorry, I’ll do my best.”

He returns the smile, gives me a kiss on the check and walks downstairs.

The rest of the morning is filled with polite conversations and false smiles. I’m quiet during the ride back to my apartment. We enter the city center; my place overlooks the town square and the park. It is a lovely location; everything is within walking distance, and it’s filled with activities and entertainment. If my life wasn’t such a disaster and my future not so dismal; I’d enjoy living here.

Adam walks me to my door and kisses my hand. I feel nothing. Today, despite my inability to dull my emotions, I feel numb.

I change out of my dress; I throw on a pair of jeans and a plain gray tee-shirt. I grab my bag and my overcoat. The shuttle to the Galleria is empty; most people are enjoying the sunshine and the activities in the park.

I find my bench and wait for the man to return.

I’m looking around, an occasional shopper scampers past and a bubbly laugh from a store someplace to my left breaks the quiet. I look towards it, but I don’t see whoever laughed. I’m scanning back to the rail when my eyes stop upon a man standing at a vendor selling coffee.

He looks my way. I see his face, and I recognize him, his name is David, and he has no number, no component, and no occupation. He is an Under.

The sharp pain I felt the night before returns. I grab my head and close my eyes as tight as I can. I keep repeating in my head,
“I don’t know him, I don’t know him, I don’t know him.”

I can’t see any images. The pain is too intense. I bend over, resting my head in my hands, squeezing as hard as I can bear.

“Emma?”

I hear him; the man. I feel him touch my back.

“Emma!”

The pain stops, so abruptly that it feels like it tears a piece of my mind along with it.

“Are you okay?”

I look at him. I recognize him from yesterday, but I don’t know him, I can’t envision his name. Why do I keep having these flashes? What is wrong with me? I am broken.

“Emma?”

“I’m fine, I just need a second,” I say.

“Did you get the information?”

The question, I’ve been dreading since I realized I was locked in my room last night. I don’t say a word. He can see it in my eyes, on my face.

“You were right in the house,” he says. “How did you not get it?”

He looks over my shoulder and shakes his head. I whip my head around. I see the man, David, walk away.

“Please don’t hurt her,” I beg. “She has nothing to do with this.”

“I warned you,” he says.

“I couldn’t do it, I tried.” My voice is quivering, and I can feel the panic rise. “They locked me in my room.”

“What?” he looks at me.

“I don’t know who you think I am, or what influences I have on him…but you’re wrong,” I say. “I don’t mean anything to him. I’m just the perfect wife on paper: my scores, my family…nothing more.”

“I won’t be able to get any information from them…ever!”

He walks away.

I sit there for a moment and try to understand what is happening. I think about Mandy. I get up and look around. He is gone. I take off after him. I run down the hall and stairs. I see him enter the shuttle. It’s getting ready to leave. I push harder. I make it just in time.

I sit and rub my ankle. It’s throbbing. I can feel it start to swell. I stand up and look into the car ahead of me. I see him sitting. He’s looking out the window; he hasn’t noticed me.

I ride the shuttle until he gets off at a station in the Technology sector. I follow him for about a half an hour, but my ankle is excruciating. I watch him disappear but before he’s out of my sight, he looks over his shoulder and smiles at me.

He knew I was following him. Which means he just led me on a wild goose chase; now, I’m alone and not sure if I’ll be able to hobble back to the station all by myself. I turn around and take my first step back. The pain shoots up my left and into my hip. I cry out. I take a few more steps and fall to my knees.

I look around, and the street is empty. I push myself up and grab the wall of the building next to me. I slowly make my way back.

I stop at an intersection. There is nothing to hang onto, and I know I won’t be able to go across it quick enough to avoid traffic. The pain is making my head dizzy and my stomach upset. I try and take another step, but I wobble. I feel myself start to fall, but someone grabs me from behind.

I twist myself around and see a familiar face. It is Chris, one of the men who helped us out of the Under, just a week ago.

“Why are you here?” he asks.

“It’s a long story and I don’t care to tell it,” I say. “Can you help me across the street?”

“Yeah, you should be taking it easy on that ankle.” He says. “I don’t want to have to fling you over my shoulder again.”

“Ha, funny,” I say. “I just need to get home and rest it.”

“I’ll take you,” he says.

We ride the shuttle back to my station. I’m looking out of the window towards the buildings, but Chris is looking out the window that faces the park.

“What is going on?” he gets up and looks out the window behind me.

I turn and see what he is talking about. There are several police shuttles in the square. My heart sinks; I know exactly what’s going on…they killed Mandy.

Chris walks me to my apartment and helps me get settled. He looks nervous, and he doesn’t say much. He makes an excuse to leave, and when I’m sure he is gone, I hobble over to the window. The police shuttles are still down there, but they’ve been joined with a Medical vehicle too.

I close the curtains and slide down the wall by the window. I did this; I failed her, and I will fail all the rest of them. My head is spinning, and I can feel my stomach heave. I reach for the waste basket by my desk and vomit.

I fall asleep on the floor.

I hear pounding on the door. I sit up, hitting my head on the desk. I look around, unsure of where I am. The room is dark, and I’m cold.

Again pounding on the door; I get up and a half jump, half walk across the room. I turn the light on in the foyer. I look at myself in the mirror above the hall table; I’m a mess.

Pounding but this time it is harder and more urgent.

I unlock the door and open it slowly. It’s Grace. She’s been crying. She doesn’t wait for me to open the door; she just pushes past me and lets herself in.

I don’t say anything because I know I won’t be able to convince her that I didn’t have anything to do with Mandy’s murder. I don’t think I will be able to convince anyone. I close the door and walk into the living room.

She’s crying. She looks up at me. “Mandy is dead.”

I know; I killed her is all I can think. I don’t say anything.

“Did you hear me?”

“Yes,” I say. It is all I can manage. I feel like falling apart. I take a deep breath and sit next to her.

“Someone killed her,” she says. “They stabbed her and left her to bleed to death in the park.”

“She suffered?” I say. I regret saying it because it was not appropriate. It seemed obvious and uncaring. I’m not very good at this.

“Max said she tried to crawl for help,” she was sobbing. “She was alive when she was found, but she died before they could save her.”

She was alive; my heart is racing. What if she knew? What if she told them it was me? I have the sudden urge to leave, to go as far away as possible. I’ve already lost everything. Maybe if I leave, none of the rest of them will be harmed. I can go to the Under and live with Maggie and Ben. They were nice, and I’m pretty sure I can find my way back to their house. But the people who killed Mandy are from the Under. The only other choice is the wastelands. I don’t know what’s out there, but I’ve heard the stories. I’m terrified of the wastelands.

I could end it. I could go home and fall asleep under my apple tree and close my eyes forever. I could. It would work. They wouldn’t be able to harm any of them if I were no longer around to care. I look at Grace. She is a mess.

“Max?” I say. “You still talk to him?”

“What?” she looks at me, confused. “I do. We’re friends.”

“I see,” I say.

“Why would someone kill her?” she asks. “She was a good citizen.”

“I don’t think I ever remember a murder happening in our territory,” I say.

“Max said there hasn’t been a murder since the beginning of the Federation,” she says. “It’s why we are linked with the system and why our emotions are dulled.”

“It’s supposed to keep us safe,” I say.

“There have been breaches,” she says. “Max doesn’t want me going any place alone. Crimes have been happening all over the city.”

“A laborer at the Galleria told me someone broke into one of the stores and stole things,” I say.

“Max thinks the rebellion is behind all the crime,” she wipes her face. “He thinks the Mandy was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“They’ll do their best to find out what happened,” I say. “Max is probably correct. You shouldn’t be out on your own, especially this late at night.”

“I’m fine,” she said. “I just needed to talk.”

“I would feel better if you called him,” I say, “maybe have him come and get you.”

“I will,” she says. “How are you?”

“I’m in shock,” I say. “I can’t believe something like this happened.”

“No, I mean,” she says, “how are you?”

I look at her confused.

“Quinn?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” I lie, again. I seem to be getting good at it. Now I need to work on hiding my emotions.

“Good, I was worried.” She says. “I kind of got the feeling that you were going to be upset for awhile.”

“I have Adam,” I say. “He’s keeping me busy.”

“You’re so lucky.” She says. “He’s so amazing and so loving.”

If she only knew, the Hell I’m going through. I would trade my “amazing” life for her dull romance with the over protective Defense officer, any day.

We chat for just over an hour and then she calls Max to come and get her. He insists that he meets her at my door; so we wait. It takes him a half an hour to arrive.

I answer the door when he knocks. He looks at me. I think I see a hint of sympathy, mixed with a touch of pity. I guess everyone is worried about my well being after Quinn walked away.

“How are you doing?” He asks.

“I feel numb,” I say. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

“No…” he starts.

“I know, what you meant,” I say. “I’m good. It was too much emotion, too much drink, and awful judgment.”

“Good,” he says. “Quinn’s good too.”

“Wonderful,” I choke on my words. I want him to feel terrible, just as bad as I feel.

Grace meets us at the door. Max smiles at her and her at him. They don’t touch, but I can tell from their movements that touch is not something they are unfamiliar with.

They say goodbye and they leave. I’m alone again. I sit at my desk and write a letter to Quinn. I explain to him why I’m going to kill myself. I confess. I tell him that I would rather die than have anyone else die because of me. But lastly I tell him that I love him and that I know there is more to us than that one day. I say goodbye to him and all the others.

I tuck the letter under my pillow and fall asleep. I dream of him. I reach for him, and I can’t save him; it’s the same nightmare that I’ve had a thousand times but this time I know I will be able to save him in real life. My life for his; I finally figured it out.

“How are you doing,” Max looks worried. “You look better. I guess a few days off did you some good.”

“I’m great,” I say. I’m actually better than I have been in a long time. We are allowed two weeks off a year to develop skills. I’ve never taken them but I was offered an opportunity to train in the wastelands, and I couldn’t refuse.

“Good,” Max looks relieved. “Then you’ll be ready.”

“For what,” I ask?

“We had a murder this morning,” he says. His facial expression changes like he had flipped a switch.

“An actual murder,” I ask?

“It was Mandy,” his words are flat.

“Smith’s friend, Mandy,” I say, “the Mandy we just met?”

“Yes,” he says. “She was found in the park in Political. Multiple stab wounds to the abdomen.”

“Any suspects,” I ask?

“Not yet,” he says, “the scene was clean. I think it might be just another attack by rebels or the Unders…maybe in retaliation for Marcus’ death.”

“If that’s the case then we’re all targets,” I say. “You should keep a close eye on Grace.”

“I’m on it,” he says. “She’s in Labor right now. I have an officer with her at all times.”

“Good,” I say.

“There’s Emma too,” he says. “She has Political right now. I’m sending an officer to meet her after work and keep post at her apartment.”

“Who’s Emma,” I ask?

“One of Mandy’s friends,” he says. He’s giving me that strange look again. “You don’t know her?”

“No,” I shake my head. “Should I?”

“No, I guess not,” he says and hangs his head, “Okay.”

“What aren’t you telling me,” I ask?

“There’s more,” he says. “There’s something going on; we’re not sure what it is. We’ve keep it quiet, but I don’t know how much longer that’s going to be possible.”

“What the Hell are you talking about,” I ask?

“It’s like a virus,” he says. “Smith and the techies are working on it, but it’s spreading and they have no clue.”

“People are getting sick,” I say. “The off-line life force; do you think he brought something in?”

“It’s attacking the program,” he says. “It’s blocking the Dulling. Some citizens never returned to protocol after the Heightening, and it’s spreading.”

“They’re trying to turn our citizens against us,” I say.

“We think Emma was one of the first citizens to be infected,” he says. “We’re looking into everyone she had contact with; Smith is sure he can find the source. He just needs time.”

He keeps mentioning this girl Emma like I know her, or should know her. I have no idea who she is, but he seems overly worried.

“Hey, let’s let the techies worry about the virus for now,” I say, “and we can do the grunt work.”

We head out to the park. We’re looking for any evidence that might lead us to a suspect. We don’t find anything.

“There was a witness. The man who found her; she was still alive when he saw her trying to crawl to safety.” He says. “He said that she recognized him, the man who killed her. She said that Emma knew him too.”

“So we find this Emma and ask her,” I say. “Who the Hell is she and why are you being so soft on her?”

“Already on it,” he says, “she’ll be at the station when we get back.”

We make it back to the station. Everyone is on the edge. There has been another break-in, but this time it was an apartment in Education.

Whoever these criminals are, they’re getting more brazen and more dangerous.

“I’ll talk to her,” I say. “I don’t…”

“No!” he says. “I’ve got it.”

“I want to ask a few questions,” I push past him.

“I don’t need you,” he says.

“You don’t have a choice,” I put my hand on the door handle. He grabs my shoulder.

“Don’t!” he pulls me back. “Go talk to the other witness’ from the park,”

“Okay?” I walk away. He’s acting strange.

I keep an eye out for him to leave the room. He does about ten minutes later. I wait until he’s out of sight, and I sneak in to talk to her.

She’s sitting in a chair at a table. She folds her hands in her lap. She looks up when I enter the room. She looks surprised. She grabs the edge of the table, and she looks past me towards the door.

“Where’s Max?” her voice is weak and shaky.

“He’s taking a break,” I lock the door behind me. “I’m here to find out what happened.”

“I already told him everything I know,” she looks nervous. “I’m not comfortable with, you…”

“Why,” I ask, “because you know Max, and he went easy on you?”

“No, that has nothing to do with it,” she stammers.

“You know what I think?” I say, sitting on the edge of the table next to her. “I think you know who killed Mandy, and you’re protecting him.”

She laughs, “this just keeps getting better and better.”

“Is he your…lover?” I look her right in the eyes.

“Oh, that’s great coming from you,” she says. “You know I’m engaged.”

“That’s right,” I say, “to Benson?”

“Quinn, do we have to do this?”

“What?”

“Pretend like nothing happened?” she says. “I apologize. I was out of line, and I should have controlled myself, but I thought we were past all that, especially after the other night.”

“So are you confessing?” I’m confused. I have no idea what she is talking about.

“What?” she says. “No, I’m talking about us. I know you’re mad, and I get it but let’s be adults and just forget it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say.

“You’re being childish,” she says. “Fine, we’ll do it your way.”

“Okay?” I’m beginning to think she’s insane. “So tell me who this guy is that killed your friend.”

“I don’t know who he is,” she says.

“Mandy’s last words contradict that,” I say. “She specifically said you knew the man.”

“I don’t,” I say. “Maybe it was one of Marcus’ men but you would know more about that than me.”

“Really,” I say. How does she know about Marcus? “You think I have something to do with this?”

“No, but if you hadn’t of killed him, maybe Mandy would still be alive.” She stands up and head to the door.

I grab her: one hand on her arm and the other holding her face so that I can look her right in the eyes. I push her against the wall. Her small frame pinned by my body. She feels weak, and her body is trembling. She’s afraid; it fuels my anger. I see my reflection in her eyes. It’s dark, against her blue eyes. I look deeper. The silver and gray streaks, remind me of water. I think about when I was a child. I would go to a creek on the edge of our post and walk in the water. I see tears in her eyes. I shake my head, look away and focus.

“You’re hiding something,” I hiss. “I will find out the truth. You can’t hide behind your fiancé or his father.’

“Quinn,” she looking at me; tears are now falling from her eyes. She looks confused. She looks hurt.

Max slams on the door.

“Calder!” he shouts. “Open this door, now!”

I ignore him. I squeeze her face harder. “Tell me what I need to know!”

“I don’t…” she coughs. Her face is turning red. I let up a bit. “Quinn, please don’t do this…please.”

She’s begging. My heart is racing. I can feel her pulse pound against my hand around her neck.

“Tell me!”

She tries to get away from me. I can feel her body push hard against mine. She grabs my face with her free hands: digging her fingers into my cheek. I can feel blood begin to trickle down. I can taste it.

I can’t control myself. I push harder. She struggles. She brings her knee up and hits me hard between my legs. I release her neck. She gasps for air.

She falls to her knees. Her head is down, and she is fighting for each breath.

Max burst into the room.

“What have you done?” he drops down to the girl and then looks up at me. “Get him out of here…put him a cell, let him cool down.”

They’re all looking at me like I’m a beast.

I hear him talk to her as they escort me away.

“He doesn’t know you,” he says. “He would’ve never…if he remembered you.’

“He tried to kill me,” she says. “Why?”

“He has no idea what he’s done,” he says. “I’m sorry. The Quinn you knew is gone.”

She knew?

I don’t know her, what is he talking about? Why is he protecting her? I enter the cell. They lock the door behind me, and I sit. It’s almost an hour before Max opens the door.

“What the Hell were you thinking?” he slams the door behind him.

“She’s hiding something,” I say.

“You terrified her,” he says. “Do you understand who she is?

“I know,” I say. “She belongs to Benson.”

“That’s only part of it,” he says. “You fucked up. You’ll be lucky if you ever see the light of day. They can banish you for a Hell of a lot less.”

“That’s bullshit!” I say. “She’s guilty. Don’t tell me you are scared of them?”

“No, but it’s more complicated than that.” He sits down. “I promised you.”

“What?”

“All I can say is if you had killed her…” He shakes his head.

“She is just another trophy,” I say. “Benson could replace her in a heartbeat.”

“You’re right,” he says. “He won’t miss her, but you will.”

“What are you talking about,” I stand up and grab his shirt. “Answer me!” I feel like I’m losing control. I’m sitting in a cell, and my best friend is talking crazy.

“I can’t tell you,” he says. “No matter what but…I didn’t think you’d try and kill her. How could you do that? You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“Am I supposed to?” he says. “Who is she? Who are you protecting her for?”

“Someone, even you can’t control.” He says. “And I’m not protecting her…I’m protecting you!”