New World Ashes (11 page)

I stared wide-eyed at the bossy woman who had just told me off like only a mother usually could. Normally, I would have picked up the plate and thrown it in her direction, but there was something so final about her speech that I actually scooped some of the mush into my mouth. Ryker snorted into his plate, earning him a light slap on the arm from Inessa, who smiled warmly at me in turn.

As my tongue pushed around the squashy substance in my mouth, I was shocked to taste earthy vegetables like the ones grown and harvested back in the Subversive. The sense was peculiar. The taste was right but the texture was all-wrong. The grey mush was something akin to a salty meat and the brown was close to a sweetened potato-like flavor.

“We still produce some foods here. Genetically modified fruit mostly.” Inessa said. “But in the long run, raising and maintaining food sources proved costly and inefficient.”

“According to our dear Minister,” muttered Mae.

“But I ate a sandwich in Fandrin’s office.” I interjected. “A
real
sandwich.”

“
Real
food is available to the privileged.” Mae snarled. “The Minister and his highest ranking officials don’t actually eat what the rest of us do. Ryker is the only reason we occasionally see real food at this table.”

I could feel Ryker’s eyes on me. I refused to look at him.

Inessa filled the awkward quiet. “A few years ago, the general public’s meals were altered to these. MNS’s—Manufactured Nutritional Subsidiaries. They were less expensive to make, easier to produce and—”

“AND were meant to control the masses. MNS’s may be stock full of nutrients, but they are also laced with mild tranquilizers.” Mae interrupted.

I froze mid-chew. The entire table went silent.

“Not our food, dear.” Inessa added quickly. “Mae oversees food processing. Only three-quarters of the food being processed is actually laced with tranquilizers. And the doses are mild. Most people simply feel content and happy. The rebels have been very selective as to who receives the treated meals.”

Triven set down his fork. “So who
is
receiving the dosed food?”

“The schools.” Ryker didn’t look up from his plate. Triven let out a low hiss, but I thought I understood. “When dosed with small amounts of sedatives, the children tend to become lethargic. For the most part, their lethargy is then mistaken for ineptitude and the military deems them unfit as potential soldiers. And Fandrin has no idea we’re controlling the outcome of his little recruitment tests.”

“And the rest of it?” Triven pushed.

Mae answered him, “The rest of it is being distributed to the public. Suspicions would be raised if there weren’t signs of the drugs being effective. However, every rebel household is now eating clean meals. We are slowly dialing back the drugs to the general public. But it takes time to do so unnoticed.”

The conversation shifted and I stopped listening. As I slowly worked on clearing my plate, I observed those surrounding me at the table. There were ten of us seated in total, five men, four women—including myself— and Mouse. Everyone was in civilian clothing, wearing various shades of white and grey. Aside from Ryker’s battered face, they all looked similar. The men wore plain clean lined haircuts, while the women’s hair was worn long, either slackly cascading down their backs or held back with simple plaits.

It struck me how different this was from not only Tartarus, but from the Subversive. Aside from the obvious physical differences, the behavior was also different. The first time I sat with the members of the Subversive to eat, every eye watched me with a wary glare. Here however, the eyes occasionally flickering my way were filled with reverence, recognition and curiosity. I was not used to being looked at that way. It made me squirm between bites. The conversation was mild, speaking mostly about each person’s day at work or whether someone had seen the latest governmental propaganda. While I could constantly sense gazes shifting in my direction, for the most part everyone acted as if I wasn’t there. Only Ryker’s and Triven’s eyes shifted to me apprehensively. Both men knew what I was capable of, and they were waiting for the ticking time bomb to explode. I knew they were both right. This quiet reserve I had fallen into would only last so long and sooner or later the fiery girl trapped beneath the surface would claw her way out again, demanding answers. I could already feel her anger stirring in my chest.

This felt wrong.

All of it.

These people were gathered around a table talking as if I wasn’t even here. As if I hadn’t just spent the last month being tortured by the man just a few seats down from me. My heart began to race. I closed my eyes trying to calm myself, but images of dead bodies and battered children flashed across my lids.

I pushed up from the table abruptly, making everyone jump. The conversation had stopped. Slowly, Ryker rose from his chair eyeing me, hands raised in front of him. It was only then I realized I was clutching my fork like a weapon. Mouse’s eyes were round as the tip of my fork hovered close to her left cheek. Triven held out his hand next to mine. I dropped the utensil into his palm with a spastic reflex.

“I think I need some fresh air.” I said to no one in particular. Mouse set down her fork and began to push away from the table. I opened my mouth to tell her to stay away from me but Triven spoke first.

“I’ll take her up to the roof. You stay here and finish your dinner.” He pushed her chair back in and kissed the top of her head. She watched us warily as we left but stayed put.

I followed Triven blindly until we reached a set of steps with a hatch at the top. When he pushed open the hatch I nearly knocked him over in my desperation to get into the fresh air. I burst onto the rooftop gasping for air. My heart was racing, its pulse thumping painfully in my temples. My body began to shake and my vision was blurring. Fear blossomed in my chest.

What was happening to me? Did they lie to me? Did they drug my food?

I began to stagger, looking for something to sit on. Triven’s hands wrapped around my waist. I struggled to push them off. There was a strange wind gathering in my ears. I balled my fists in preparation to strike, but his hands closed tightly over my wrists, holding me like a vise. Pulling me into him, Triven curled his body protectively over my back and held me to his chest. After a moment I realized it wasn’t the wind I was hearing but Triven’s shushes. Slowly, he pushed me forward until my head dropped between my knees.

“It’s okay, Prea. It’s just a panic attack. Breathe. You have to breathe.”

I tried to focus on his words and attempted to match my breathing to his steady chest behind me. My heart rate finally started to slow and my vision began to clear.

“What’s wrong with me?” I croaked. “I have survived
everything
. I was stronger than anyone else. I survived all of the nightmares, the torture, the deaths—but the echoes of it all… I can’t seem to stop those. I can’t stop seeing you dead, her dead, my parents, Maddox… Fandrin broke something in me, Triven. He broke me.  I was weak… I was…”

Triven held me tighter, as if to keep me from falling apart. “You’re not weak, Prea. You’re one of the strongest people I have ever met. You’re one of the bravest, most intelligent and frightening people I know. But you are
not
weak. I know you are hurting right now, but I also know eventually you will use that pain to become stronger.”

I nodded mindlessly against my knees.

“What if I hurt one of you before I get to that point?” I thought of the fork tines too close to Mouse’s cheek.

“I won’t let that happen.” His voice was so self-assured I almost believed him.

Almost. The truth—I
was
a ticking time bomb and we both knew it.

Tick… Tick… Tick…

BOOM.

When I awoke that night, it was to a room filled with silent screaming and blood.

THERE WAS BLOOD
on my hands. Even in the dark I could see it. Glistening, vibrant and still warm.

So much blood.

My hands were still shaking, the fingertips quivering with anxiety and disgust.

It wasn’t my blood. It was his.

Triven’s.

The shame was so powerful my body didn’t have room for any other emotion. It consumed and ravaged my soul. I stared at my shaking hands and a new emotion made its way into my mind. Repulsion.

I balled my hands into tight fists and cracked them, once… twice against my temples.

I had lost control. I knew this was going to happen. The poison in my mind had finally seeped out. It had been when I was sleeping, but I couldn’t stop. Not even as I woke up. I couldn’t even remember what had triggered it. What I had been dreaming about. But when I woke, Triven’s blood was on my hands and I had him latched in a choke-hold strong enough to make his face turn purple. He wasn’t even fighting me. Just tapping at my arms in a vain attempt to wake me as blood poured from his nose. When I finally came to my senses, I had leapt away, letting myself smash onto the floor. I could hear Triven gasping for air as I skittered away from him. My temple collided with the ground as I crashed down, making my ears ring.

That’s when I saw her.

Mouse was cowering beneath her cot. Tears streaming down her face as her mouth twisted in a silent scream. I wanted to reach for her. To say I was sorry, but I couldn’t. Instead, I whispered for them not to follow me and took off like a coward.

Somehow I had made it here, though I didn’t remember exactly
how
I had gotten here. The living room was nearly pitch black. Only a faint glow was seeping in through the covered windows. I was curled into a tiny ball on the stiff pristine couch. I knew I hadn’t hurt him that badly. Broken his nose, maybe. There was always a lot of blood when you broke someone’s nose. It was Mouse’s face that horrified me most.

I
had put that look on her face.

I slammed my fists to my temples again. What was wrong with me! I had always been in complete control of my body, of my mind. But it was as if The Minister had strategically removed that control. Like his fingers were still wiggling in my brain. He had taken away everything that made me Phoenix and left this quivering mess in his wake. I knew now he had won. He had broken me. The question was—could I survive to rise again? Triven thought so, but look at where that got him.

Soft steps stirred me from my personal hell. I kept my head bowed but spoke a warning. “I want to be alone.”

“I fear you have been alone for far too long.” Her voice was gentle as her steps continued. “The mind is a dangerous place. When left alone too long with our own inner demons, we can easily fall prey to their deception.”

She stopped before me and waited until I looked up. Inessa’s eyes were bright in the darkness. In her left hand was an offering. A steaming cup of something that smelled like citrus. When I did not take it, she simply placed the cup on the table before me and moved to an open chair.

I stared at the rising steam. “And what would you know of inner demons?”

“More than I would care to admit.” A sad smile pulled at her thin lips. She stared at me, her bright eyes burning. She glanced down at my hands. “He’s okay you know? Triven’s nose has already been mended. And Mae has helped calm down our dearest Mouse. There wasn’t anything that happened tonight that can’t be forgiven.”

I stared at the blood drying on my skin. “I do
not
deserve kindness. Not after what I just did. Triven may be reckless enough to forgive me, but you didn’t see
her
face…”

I buried my head in my hands again. Hate was easy. Love was hard.

“Oh child… That little girl has seen nearly as much as you have. Yet, she still has one of the purest hearts I have ever seen. Don’t underestimate her.”

Shame still plagued my thoughts. Inessa’s keen eyes did not miss a thing. “Don’t underestimate yourself either.”

“It’s not that simple. What if this is something I can’t fix? What if I hurt one of them again or worse? What if I don’t come to my senses next time?” My voice rose, vibrating with inner turmoil. “Ryker managed to break something out of that prison, but
what
? Triven sees the girl he fell in love with in a broken-down library, but I’m not that girl! I am a bomb!”

“Triven is not reckless. He cares for you, and that is the greatest gift he can give you right now. And the
only
mistake you can make, is to push him away. And no, it’s not simple. Nothing here is ever simple, Pre—Phoenix. Not even within The Sanctuary. In fact, despite our outward appearances, none of us are as simple as the clothing we wear. Life is
always
complicated. It doesn’t matter which side of The Wall you’re standing on.”

I made a grunting sound in reply. She continued unperturbed. “The Minister has shackled us all in one way or another. Your mother was raised to believe she was a disappointment for not being the heir he desired. You were then raised as the child and successor he knew your mother would never be. Those outside have been bound by The Wall’s isolation with nothing but their instinctual desire to survive. And those of us inside have been chained by the ideal we are all the same, but equality is not always equal.”

She continued to speak in the absence of my response.

“Everyone here is meant to serve a purpose—to contribute to our
fair
society. Children with certain aptitudes become soldiers. Those with a knack for educating become teachers. Those who are technologically inclined work on keeping our systems secure. No one has a choice and everyone has a place. Males provide genetics and women provide new life. We are married under state-approved matches and those of us who choose not to procreate are deemed unmatchable. Love is a privilege, only acknowledged when it can produce the strongest offspring. Your mother and father were of the lucky few. They loved one another
and
were genetically a match. I on the other hand have been deemed unworthy of such an honor as love.”

I finally looked up after her lengthy silence filled the room. She was staring at a simple silver ring on her left hand. I watched her caress it lovingly with her thumb. Inessa’s eyes shone with tears when she finally looked up. “Mae and I have been in love since we were about your age. No matter how my mother pushed me to court boys, I knew it never felt right. You know, the government can mandate many things… but matters of the heart—they are ruled by a power all their own.”

I looked back on every touch I had seen pass between the two at dinner. Every lingering gaze. How had I missed that before? Maybe because love wasn’t an emotion I had seen very often.

Inessa looked back down at her mug. “Inside The Wall our love is considered a violation. But here—inside
these
walls, of
this
house—our love isn’t judged. It is beautiful and celebrated.”

I thought of Triven and Mouse. Of everything I was willing to sacrifice for them, despite my desire for self-preservation. Above all other emotions—above hate and vengeance, above fear and desire—love was the most formidable. It was the most honorable and always worth fighting for. I understood that now.

“My life has been filled with little else other than hate and violence.” I steadily met her gaze for the first time that night. “But one thing I do know about love—no one,
no one
has the right to tell you what your heart knows.”

A sincere twinkle lit in her already brilliant eyes. “You know that is almost exactly what your mother said to me when I told her about Mae.”

My eyes fell away when her stare lingered too long. She realized her intrusion with flushed cheeks. “Forgive me. You look so much like her now that you have grown. It’s almost like talking to a ghost.”

I grabbed the cup so I didn’t have to look at her. “I am
not
my mother.”

“It is hard for me to believe that considering how little you know about her.” Inessa’s eyes fell to my hands. Looking at the blood. My defenses rose automatically, as they did whenever anyone spoke of my family.

“What could you possibly know about my mother?” I snapped. “Or about me for that matter.”

“About you? Unfortunately not as much as I would like, my dear.” She paused to sip her drink. “About your mother? Aside from maybe your father, no one knew her better than I did.”

My eyes narrowed, but Inessa’s warmed.

“Jutta was my
best
friend.” Her face fell when she said my mother’s name.

I flinched.

Hearing my mother’s name was always like a slap in the face. Worse still, the last person who spouted it at me in an attempt to find comradery was Arstid. And Triven’s mother was the last person I wanted to be thinking about right now. She had been right about me—I was a loose cannon, a temporarily leashed wild dog waiting to lash out. I pulled my legs further into myself trying to contain the rage percolating beneath my calm façade. I had had some control before, but tonight… tonight I was anything but in control. I shouldn’t be allowed near them—near anyone again. My stomach ached with sickness as their shocked faces flashed behind my lids.

“Don’t do that.” Inessa’s voice was a whisper.

“Do
what
?” I bit back misplacing my anger.

“Blame yourself.” She was staring at me.

I glared back at her. “How about you let me handle my own issues and just continue on with your little stories!”

She actually cringed, her aged eyes looking hurt. I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. Everyone here was so sensitive.

“I’m sorry.” I muttered into my drink and took a sip in a gesture to prove my sincerity.

“I sometimes forget you’re no longer the little girl whose hair I used to braid.” She said.

“Sometimes I wonder if that child
ever
existed.” I stared at the swirling liquid, mesmerized by its languid movement. “All I have seen is the soldier child prodigy. A weapon.”

“Oh she did exist, and she was so much more than a weapon.” Inessa smiled with memories. “And as much as I miss that little girl, I admire the woman she became. Your mother would have too.”

Again, with my mother…
I did roll my eyes this time. “You do realize the woman you speak of is little more than a fairytale to me? I have seen her face a thousand times and still I know almost nothing about her. Her face has haunted my dreams for over
six
years
. Her words are the only reason I continued to fight for my survival.” A tiny bubble of rage rose in my chest. “I am not sure if I should thank her or curse her for imploring me to survive this hell.”

“You mother and father gave their lives so that you could live—”

I cut her off, “My mother and father abandoned me in a shit city with practically
nothing
! I had no memories. No allies. I had been
alone
for six years! I might have survived but to what point?! They left me with nothing but hate and fear all because they were, what… some kind of martyrs?! Arrogant militants who made a rash decision that got dozens of people killed along with themselves!”

I was practically screaming when I finally managed to staunch the pent-up words of resentment pouring from my mouth. In all my years alone, I never realized how truly angry I was at them for leaving me.

Inessa’s words were barely a whisper. “You don’t really believe that do you?”

I stared hard at a fabric pill on the sofa’s seat by my little toe. The anger was subsiding, but my chest still ached with pain. I closed my eyes. “I’m not sure what I believe anymore.”

“Can I tell you about them?” Inessa asked hesitantly.

I wanted to tell her to screw off and leave me alone. I also desperately wanted to know about the people who had raised me. I compromised by saying nothing. After a few minutes, Inessa took my silence as consent.