The Circle- Taken Page 14

  “Julia took a stand against your decision to continue using the serum,” Michael argues. “No one knew that Harrison would go after them that night.”

  “The government demanded I continue to use the serum,” Serafina says. “If I didn’t agree…”

  “Then you would have been removed from your leadership role. You wouldn’t be your father’s daughter.” On Serafina’s inhale of breath, Michael softens his voice. “Harrison ordered the hit that night. You are using Alexia as bait…” He pauses. “It makes you no better than him.”

  “Then that’s the price I will pay to get my son back. Julia set the board and the rules. I’m just playing the game.”

  Inside the Sanctuary, Serafina leads them to the room in the back. Along the way, they pass dozens of members ill from the serum. Serafina greets each of them. Her guilt at the truth they don’t know weighs, but she pushes it away. Right now, she must focus.

  Serafina opens the last door at the end of the hall. Immediately, a sense of peace envelopes her. A small stream runs along the wall and out toward the back. The walls are built around a tree with long, leafy branches that fill the room.

  On the far wall, Serafina slips her hand into a small vestibule. She immediately feels the finger prick. Her blood drips slowly into the DNA monitor. Seconds pass, and then the screen lights up as the door unlocks. Serafina opens it slowly to reveal a large crystal and dozens of small vials.

  “My husband created this safe as a guarantee against any one person having too much power. Checks and balances to keep the antidote protected. Only three people in the world can open it. Me, Julia, and Harrison. If I try to remove her access, we all lose it.” Serafina shakes her head at the decisions that made sense back then. “My husband trusted Harrison as a friend. Never would he have imagined that Harrison would be his executioner.”

  Michael’s eyes widen with understanding. “You think Julia is coming for the antidote?” Confused, he says, “She would risk her life for it?”

  “She’s the only other one who can access it,” she answers. “One of Julia’s greatest strengths is she will protect those she loves with her life.”

  “And those she doesn’t?”

  Serafina sighs, never imagining a day when they would be enemies. “Nothing will stop her from destroying them.”

  Serafina stares at the crystal — the only one of its kind in the world. Her husband used the crystal’s unique properties to create the antidote to the serum. An engineer and chemist, he helped to save the hundreds of members Serafina sickened.

  “If Alexia is one of theirs…” Serafina shuts the door, listening as it locks automatically. “I have to be ready.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  I slip my arms through my sweatshirt just as the knock comes. I open the door to Ryan, already dressed for training. Through the bars of the window, the sun lingers on the edge of the horizon.

  “You’re early.” Unsure and hesitant from our interaction yesterday, I fidget in place. Needing something to do, I bend down to retie my shoes.

  “You’re late.” Ryan motions for me to hurry. He makes no mention of yesterday either, so I follow his lead. “I want to get a run in before the sun fully rises.”

  I look up and meet the stubbornness in his eyes but am confused by the reason for it.

  “Your fears are your vulnerabilities,” he says to my unspoken question. “Time to get rid of them.” He gives me a pointed look. “Or we can sit here while you get dressed.”

  I swallow then choke on my gratitude when I see the understanding in his eyes. Barely able to get the words out, I say, “It can’t be that easy.”

  “It isn’t. But it’s a step.” He opens the door and motions me out first. He follows close behind.

  “Through the gym?” I assume, leading the way.

  “No.”

  Ryan barely grazes my elbow to reroute me. He leads us down a back set of stairs and through a narrow hallway. A back door leads straight to the beach.

  “You want to keep the additional training a secret?” I ask, wondering about the new route. “Because of David and what you told him?” On his silence, I demand, “Tell me why.”

  “This” – he points between us – “only works under certain conditions.”

  “No questions, and do what you say?” I guess.

  He smirks. “Fast learner.”

  “You gave him information to use against me,” I remind him.

  “I’ll say this once— I never told David anything that was meant to hurt you.”

  We stare at one another while I process his words. “I’m an idiot if I believe you.”

  “We have thirty minutes before the sun fully rises.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “What will it be, Edmonds? Chat about David or train you to survive the Evaluation?”

  Overhead the sky is clear. I inhale the fresh air. The sound of the water in the distance still sends a spiral of fear running through me. Self-preservation takes over. I need to overcome my fear to survive the Evaluation. As for David, I have to trust Ryan. I drop to the ground to stretch out. He grins before joining me. We both silently stretch until our muscles lose their tightness.

  Ryan starts us a reasonable distance from the water but then slowly angles toward it. I follow his lead, but soon we are only a few feet from the crashing water. Our feet pound against the sand as we pick up speed. My years of running at the orphanage help me keep pace with him.

  A loose piece of sand flies into my mouth as the fresh ocean air scatters droplets of water onto our running path. Seagulls fly low over the water with their beaks open in search of fish. One skims the ocean top and grabs unsuspecting prey before flying off. My gaze strays to the water’s surface where dozens more dive into the water, only to come up empty-handed.

  “You OK?” he asks, glancing at the water then me.

  Head down, I nod. We quickly finish five miles. Then Ryan turns us back toward the fortress. He slows our pace to begin a warm down on the deserted beach.

  “What happened that day?” Ryan asks, his voice neutral.

  Our arms are only inches apart as we run alongside one another. I can smell the scent of Ryan’s sweat as it mingles with mine. To bide my time, I scan the deserted beach. Only the cliffs keep us company. A crashing wave nearly topples a seagull. It flaps its wings and barely escapes nature’s wrath. Unbidden memories from that day crowd around me. I push them off, but I can feel my fear as I struggled. My cries for help echo in my head and drown out everything else.

  “Why were you in the ocean?” Ryan asks.

  His question pulls me from my memories. I search every facet of my brain, but steel trapdoors refuse me entry.

  “I don’t remember,” I murmur.

  “Was it just the two of you?”

  His questions crowd me. Again I search, but my subconscious is a dark room with no light switch. “I don’t know,” I whisper. He stops abruptly at the edge of the ocean. Confused, I ask, “What are you doing?”

  “Come here.” He motions me toward him.

  My eyes on the water, I shake my head. “I’m good.”

  “I don’t think so.” He stares at me through narrowed eyes. “Do you trust me?”

  I laugh bitterly at his question. I push away all of our interactions “How can I?”

  “What will it take?” he asks.

  “Tell me why you told David,” I beg.

  His hands in his pockets, he swallows and stares into the distance. “I didn’t.”

  It wasn’t the answer I was expecting. “You’re lying.”

  “You have to decide if you believe that.”

  I feel like I’m on a hamster wheel with no way off. He’s here, trying to help me, just like he did on the cliffs, the plane, and in the boardroom. What would he have gained by telling David?

  “If not you, then who? No
one else knew.”

  His eyes flicker and then close for a moment. But not before they reveal his uncertainty. With it, the realization hits me – Victoria. When she read me, she could have found out. She’s David’s twin. It makes perfect sense. I feel foolish for not having realized it before.

  “Victoria.” His face shows his surprise at my guess, then regret. He starts to speak. I hold up my hand to stop him. “Give me enough credit not to deny it.”

  He nods, and for the first time, I feel like we are equals. “She didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “But David did. In the zones, where I come from, that makes her an accomplice.”

  “I won’t get into a battle of words with you. You asked me a question and I answered. Now, do you trust me?”

  “Technically, you didn’t answer. I guessed.”

  He huffs. “Semantics, Edmonds.”

  “More like facts.” I consider him. “No, on the trust.”

  He sighs then says slowly, “I walk a fine line between Harrison and David.” He pauses, and I get the feeling he’s never admitted this to anyone. “Every choice I make isn’t always the one I want.”

  “Because David is Victoria’s twin?” I ask slowly.

  His gaze meets mine, but the answer is hidden. “That’s part of it.”

  “What’s the other part of it?” He’s talking in circles that have no end.

  “I did my part, shared deep secrets.” I roll my eyes at his response. He ignores me and points to the water. “Now your turn. You have to overcome your fear.”

  I glance at the water then him. He’s helping me on his own time. Fighting to help make me stronger. He doesn’t have to do any of this, but he is for me. “Ok.”

  “Come here.” Relief flickers across his face. He tosses his shoes toward the shore. “And just so you know, I was pained by your lack of trust.”

  He’s joking, but the thought of trusting him dredges up feelings I didn’t know existed. I push them aside to follow suit with my shoes, then take a tentative step toward him. The water swirls around my ankles. I push my feet into the ground when a strong current pushes against me. The sand melts beneath my feet, pushing me deeper into the water’s cocoon. When I close my eyes, I can almost imagine myself drowning in the shallow water.

  The saltwater stings my eyes. Frantic, I try to search for my mother, but my eyes feel sewn shut. I claw at them, desperate to see. Finally, I spot a body in the tide. I drive my whole body toward her. The water fills my lungs. I cough and swallow more.

  Refusing defeat, I swim with steady strokes. From deep within I find the strength to push harder. I see my mother struggling against the water. Just as I reach for her, a wave thrashes against us. My mother drifts further away until she is out of reach. I scream into the water. Tears course down my cheeks but are mere drops in the ocean’s depth.

  “Please hold on,” I whisper, but it is too late. Everything goes dark, and I am all alone. Grief guides me to let go. I drift in the water, welcoming the darkness that envelopes me.

  My eyes heavy, I close them, promising myself only a few minutes of rest. What seems like only seconds later, I am shaken awake by a safety patrol officer. I blink against the blazing sun.

  “What’s your name?” the officer demands.

  I hesitate, unsure. In the deep recesses of my mind, I hear a name, but it sounds like a muted echo. Afraid, I wrap my arms around my upturned legs. I search the beach, unsure, but it’s empty. I turn toward the ocean, seeking, but the water laps at my feet, unconcerned with my desperation.

  “What is your name?” the man demands again.

  “I don’t remember.” My throat is dry and scratchy.

  “Where did you come from?” the officer asks.

  I am frantic for an answer. It’s right on the tip of my tongue, but no matter how hard I try, I cannot retrieve it. “I don’t know.” The sob lodges in my throat. I try to hold off the desperation and fear, but they claw me. I am all alone. “I don’t remember anything.”

  “Alexia!”

  I jerk at the sound. Voices from the past continue to whisper in my ear. I open my eyes and blink. I am deep in the heart of the water. The waves crash around me. Jostled from the memory, I try to inhale a breath but swallow water instead. Ryan reaches for me, but like my mother, I drift out of reach.

  “Fight, Alexia.” Ryan’s voice breaks through the grief roaring through my body. It carries over the water, swirling around me like the covering of a shell. I ignore it, but he calls again. “Alexia!” He grabs me around the waist and jerks me toward him. Desperate, he holds me with a fear I have never felt from him. “Don’t let go.”

  “What are you doing here?” I wonder whether he is a mirage conjured from deep within my imagination. His wet hair plasters his face. His clothes cling to his skin.

  “You have to fight,” he murmurs against my hair. An arm around me, he swims toward shore, half dragging, half pushing me along.

  Barely able to stay afloat, he pushes until our feet touch the sand. With the water still lapping at the soles of our feet, I struggle to stand.

  “What happened?” Ryan pushes back his wet hair then mine. “You walked into the water then kept going deeper into the waves.”

  I stare into the ocean as I choke back tears. All these years, I have held on to hope. Now I have none.

  “I thought I was…” I pause.

  Ryan stands in front of me. “You thought what?”

  I bite back a sob as I move away, but he reaches out and stops me, careful not to touch bare skin.

  “Let me go,” I plead.

  “Tell me.”

  “Why do you care?” I lash out.

  “I don’t know.” His honesty stuns me. He drops his hands and moves back to stare out at the water. “It would be better if I didn’t.”

  I stare at him as the loneliness expands until it’s all I can feel. “She’s dead,” I whisper. The truth permeates every cell of my body, and I nearly choke on the grief. He listens quietly. “I saw her floating away.” I try to erase the memory and would do anything to return to when I couldn’t remember. “She died trying to save me.”

  I push back a sob, but it breaks through. I drop my face into my hands as my whole body starts to shake. I jump when Ryan’s arm slips around my shoulders.

  “Shut down,” he says.

  Part of me rejects his dictate so I can feel the pain of his touch. It will mask the grief ripping through me. But he waits while I struggle to white light it. Only when I nod does he pull me in tight.

  “She’s gone.” I yearn for the time when my mind’s darkness protected me from the truth. “I didn’t save her.”

  “You were a kid.” He swallows once, and I see him struggle. “There was nothing you could do.”

  “You’re wrong.” I fight him because I can, knowing I am safe while I do so. “I could have been stronger.” I relive my fear and failure. “I should have been brave.”

  Disgust riles me. I push him away and the excuses he offers at the same time. His pardon cannot be my salvation.

  “She wouldn’t blame you,” he insists.

  The voice in my head repeats, Be strong. “She expected more from me. I failed her.” I think of my life since losing her. “I failed me.”

  When he doesn’t answer, I walk alone back to my room.

  ***

  I stand by the window and stare out through the bars. I run my hand up and down the metal that keeps me imprisoned. I lay my head down on the cold iron. Tears drip down my face and puddle on the windowsill.

  “I’m sorry, Mama,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

  Images of the little girl I saw during the test dance in front of me. I close my eyes and try to imagine my parents. Blackness. Frantic, I search every part of my mind, anything to give me a clue, but my mind remains black and empty.


  Broken, I slide my hands down the bars as I inch closer to the ground. My hands release their anchor as my knees buckle. I drop my head against the wall. The tears flow faster as I negotiate with myself.

  “Please,” I beg, “I will do anything, give anything. Please let me see them. Let me say goodbye.” My mind refuses to recognize that the girl I saw was a mirage. An illusion created from my reading of Otis.

  I stare into the emptiness of the room. I wait for the pain to tell me my wish has been granted. That my gift isn’t for naught; that with my ability, I can see my mother.

  “Mama,” I whisper.

  But darkness remains my only answer. The silence surrounds me. Defeated, I can no longer carry the weight of my regret. I slowly slip toward the ground. I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around them.

  The sobs start slowly and then come faster until my whole body begins to tremble. I cry through the sound of Ryan’s footsteps stopping in front of my room. The tears fall as I hear him place a hand on my door, offering me silent comfort. I continue to sob as I hear Ryan walk away, leaving me alone with my heartbreak. My body shakes as the sun casts me in its light. I cry until my grief is spent, and there are no tears left. Only then do I fall into a broken sleep.

  TWENTY-THREE

  The knock comes right after Ryan unlocks my door in the morning. I open it to one of the members I’ve seen in the gym. I guess him to be only a few years older than sixteen.

  “You’re needed at the infirmary,” he says without an introduction. “Some tests.”

  My radar goes up. “What tests?”

  “I don’t know,” he answers. “Serafina sent me. Let’s go.”

  Though anxious and hesitant, I nonetheless follow him. In reality, I have no choice. My stomach grumbles as we head toward the stairs. It’s a reminder that I haven’t eaten since the day before yesterday. Last night, after my tears were spent, I fell asleep on the ground. I woke up exhausted and drained. Every time my mind wanders to the revelation from yesterday, I feel weakened and defeated.