The Circle- Taken Page 5

  “That doesn’t prove her innocence.” Rochelle, a top agent, rarely speaks at the meetings. The few times she does, everyone falls silent and listens. When standing, Rochelle measures in height at nearly six feet four inches. Except for Harrison, she towers over almost the entire group. Now seated, she crosses her prosthetic leg over her other leg as she addresses the table. She runs a hand over her cropped blond hair. “Nor can we assume she is.”

  “Your actions put all of us at risk.” Harrison dismisses Serafina with one glance before turning to the rest of the Council. “I call for a vote for Serafina to be censured. Her judgment has been compromised once again.”

  Serafina slowly faces the people she grew up with and learned from. She trained side by side with many of them over the years. She considers all of them friends. Except for Harrison. Never again will she make the mistake of trusting him.

  “What are you afraid of, Harrison?” Serafina murmurs. “That Alexia is one of them and knows your secrets? That she will tell your son the truth of who you are?”

  “I protect the Circle. That is all I do.”

  Serafina laughs out loud. “You kill people,” she corrects, “in the name of protection.” She reminds the Council of Harrison’s past. “Harrison killed children without concern for their innocence. He took the lives of people we loved without giving them a chance to explain themselves. If anyone should be removed from their post, it is Harrison.”

  “You lost more than most of us that night, Serafina.” Leif, the oldest member of the group, speaks solemnly. He walks with a cane to help his hunched back. But anyone who mistakes his physical frailty for a mental one is a fool. “Your husband and both your children was a high price to pay.” He gives Harrison a stern glance. “There will be no vote today on Serafina’s place at the Circle.”

  “A mistake,” Harrison says, unfazed by Leif’s reproach. “Her decision regarding the serum continues to have detrimental effects.”

  “She believed, like all of us, that it would make the receivers stronger and enhance reading ability.” Michael, Serafina’s oldest friend, speaks in her defense.

  “Your loyalty would be admirable,” Harrison murmurs, “if not so clearly misplaced.”

  “Michael is correct.” All heads turn toward Catarina. Nearly as old as Leif, she commands the same reverence and respect he does. “Serafina only learned of the serum’s effects when we did. She is at fault for demanding its continued use, but we cannot blame her for something none of us knew.”

  “Her husband and best friend took the antidote,” Harrison says, placing the blame squarely on Serafina. “She allowed them to betray the Circle.”

  “They did it because they knew it was the only thing that would reverse the effects of the serum.” Rochelle addresses the room, controlled in her speech. “The deaths that night by Harrison’s hands were of friends and family. It was too high a price for their actions.”

  “Harrison decided without permission or compassion.” Michael glances at Serafina. “You paid for your decision to continue using the serum in a manner the Council would never have sanctioned.”

  “I was protecting the Circle,” Harrison says.

  “You were exacting vengeance,” Serafina says, confident from having won this round. “You wanted to prove your strength was mightier than theirs.”

  Leif rests his joined hands on the table. “Serafina, for now, we will support your decision to give the girl haven. But we need more information soon.” His gaze shifts to Harrison. “The Circle will be a safe place for Alexia.”

  “As long as she is innocent, I have no issues with her.” Harrison walks out, leaving Serafina staring after him.

  EIGHT

  I stir at the light streaming in from the window. Confused, I take a few seconds to remember where I am and why. A makeshift prison. The realization hits me hard. I start to get up when I hear footsteps then the jiggle of the doorknob. My mind suddenly alert, I leap off the bed. Similar to yesterday, I search for a weapon. The broken glass on the floor offers my only option. A piece in hand, I jump behind the door. I inhale deeply then hold my breath to keep from making any noise.

  The girl who enters is nearly my height. Her chin-length hair frames her face. She swivels toward the unkempt bed before taking a step further into the room. Seizing the opportunity, I slam my foot into her lower back. As she starts to topple, I rush for the open door.

  “Ryan warned me,” the girl says, nonchalant. “My fault.” She catches herself and swivels, booting the door shut with her heel.

  Unwilling to accept defeat, I reach for the doorknob when her boot heal kicks my ankles. I stumble forward and drop to my knees. Furious at being easily beaten, I jump up and into a fighting stance. Inches apart, with fists raised, we face off.

  “I’m Jackie,” the girl says conversationally, as if we are friends.

  Three stud earrings pierce her left ear, and a black crystal dangles from the other. Cargo pants with multiple pockets lead to a pair of expensive running shoes. Back home, I had seen similar shoes on people with money. Jackie’s short-sleeved top accentuates her toned arms.

  “Let me out.” My stomach growls, reminding me I have not eaten in days.

  “And you’re Alexia.” Jackie loosens her fists then sets her hands on her hips. “You’re the one giving Serafina a headache.” She sucks her lower lip into her mouth. “Good work.”

  “What do you want?” On guard, I stay wary.

  Unbothered, she pulls up first one ankle and then the other in a stretch. “To take you to breakfast before your training.” She eyes the piece of glass still clutched between my fingers. “You won’t win, so why waste both of our time?”

  “Who are you?” I glance briefly at the door. My instinctive distrust tempers excitement at being out of the room.

  “If you play your cards right…a friend.” Jackie motions toward the hallway. “I can bring you new clothes. Shower’s next door.” She sniffs the room. “In case you were interested.”

  “Being locked in meant I didn’t get to be interested.” Through hooded eyes, I study her, itching to get a read without the pain of touch.

  Jackie laughs out loud. “I can see your dilemma.” She pockets the key. “You’ve got thirty minutes before Ryan takes you for training. Either drop the shard, or I lock you back in.” She taps her watch. “Tick-tock.”

  “If I’m smart, I don’t trust you.” I grip the glass tighter.

  “True.” Jackie considers my surroundings. “But I don’t think you have a choice.”

  My stomach grumbles again. My bruises ache. My body, exhausted from the last few days, begs for sustenance. Jackie is right — I have no choice. I slowly set the piece of glass on the desk.

  “After you.” I motion Jackie ahead of me, refusing to turn my back on her.

  Jackie regards me with a hint of admiration. “Smart.”

  She heads through the open door first. Anxious to see, I follow close behind. Over the threshold, I survey the narrow hall. Scattered lights flicker on and off in the dimly lit passage, giving the image of dancing shadows. A damp, mildew smell permeates the air. Scraps of peeling paint litter the floor.

  A few steps down the constricted hallway, Jackie points to the only other two doors in the area. “Ryan’s room and the shower. Communal.”

  “Where are the other rooms?” I search the darkened interior.

  “In another wing of the building.” Jackie smacks her hand against the wall. Pieces of paint crumble to the ground. “Clearly, you two are Serafina’s favorites.”

  “Do you get locked in every night?” I ask. Jackie raises an eyebrow in response. “‘Favorite’ isn’t exactly the word I would use.”

  Vigilant, I watch her as we walk alongside one another. Though we appear near the same age, Jackie walks with the confidence of someone much older. Her strides are long and sure with ar
ms that swing carelessly by her sides. I envy her sense of place.

  In hopes of garnering more information, I start slow and test the waters. “The other rooms are for readers and agents?”

  “Yeah. I’m an agent, or security — like Ryan.”

  I follow her down a set of stairs into another long hallway. The decor transitions from peeling paint to pristine walls. Glass windows overlook finely cut fields of grass. Modern lights flood the corridor. Vases of flowers and potted trees line the hallways. I mark every turn as I try to memorize the route.

  A steel-encased door halts our journey. Jackie scans her palm on a reader attached to the wall. It beeps twice and says her name aloud then unlocks. I follow her through when a piercing alarm goes off. Jackie quickly punches in a code and rescans her palm. The alarm shuts off seconds later.

  “Serafina really doesn’t trust you.” She sounds amused.

  “Why?” I keep my voice confused and casual. “She doesn’t know me.”

  “Exactly. Serafina doesn’t like not knowing.” Her face curious, she asks, “Who are your parents?”

  “I don’t know.” I don’t tell her it is the one answer I am continuously seeking but can never seem to find. What good is the ability to read the past and future when mine refuses to be revealed? “I have no memory of them.”

  Jackie falls silent before saying, “Follow me.”

  She leads us to a door with the word “Library” inscribed on the front. Inside the room, I stop and stare at the endless line of shelves filled with books. There are hundreds of them, more than I have ever seen in one place. Overstuffed chairs and sofas surround tables. A small fire blazes in the hearth. In the far corner, dozens of computers sit on desks.

  “You can read these books anytime you want?” At the orphanage, we received limited numbers and were only allowed to keep them for a specific time.

  Jackie glances around as if seeing them for the first time. “Sure. If you want to.” At the computers, she punches in her ID and password then waits for the network to come to life. I immediately memorize the information and store it away. “There’s a database of every member of the original project group and all of their descendants. They’re called the Core.” She types in additional numbers. A list of names pops up on the screen. “It’s a combination of women, men, old, young, and everything in between.”

  “Everyone has access to this?” At home, the government gave us limited information on the files they kept of people.

  “No.” Jackie points to the list. “That’s classified information. I have what you would call a way with computers.” Pleased with herself, she grins. “I can hack anything.”

  Excited, I study the hundreds of names of the original group. When none sound familiar, I reread them more slowly, but again nothing. Frustrated and disappointed, I shake my head no.

  “Can I see the descendants?” Jackie punches in another set of numbers that I memorize. A list double the size of the first one pops up. Anxious, I search again but nothing. Schooling my face, I hide my disappointment. “No.”

  “Your name should have been on there.” Jackie shuts off the computer. “Did Serafina tell you about the project?”

  “Bits and pieces,” I hedge, hoping Jackie will tell me more.

  “The government created human weapons of knowledge,” Jackie explains. “They took people who could already read and enhanced their abilities. Impressive, right?”

  “How does it work — reading others?” Though I know what happens to me, I am curious how it works for others.

  My first recollection of reading someone was when the officer found me on the beach. When he reached for my hand, the pain nearly knocked me unconscious. In the few seconds, before I pulled away, I saw both his future and past in a series of flashes.

  “We are all energy.” Jackie leans against the desk as she considers my question. “So are our thoughts. Human contact gives readers the connection needed to read.” A student opens the door, startling us both. He looks questioningly at me but then scampers away when Jackie shouts, “Out!” The guy runs away. Jackie slams the door shut behind him, and then casually resumes our conversation. “Psychics have been doing it for hundreds of years without explanation.” She smirks. “Bet the government never expected the readers to evolve. Not good for them.”

  I had read about psychics in books. Before the war, they were viewed as entertainment and a novelty. Never were psychics taken too seriously.

  “Why was it a problem the readers evolved?” I ask.

  Jackie glances at the closed door then lowers her voice. “Readers have gone rogue. There are those out there using their abilities against the government rather than for it.”

  A flash of a room. The voice speaking is hard and unforgiving. “Again!” I train for hours a day. I repeat the maneuvers until they are like breathing.

  “Who are they?” Fear grips me in a way that doesn’t make sense. “The readers who have gone rogue?”

  “Previous members of the Circle.” Jackie shuts off the computer before leading us out of the library. “Rumors say they have joined up with the Resistance. Serafina needs to know if you’re one of them.”

  The Resistance? The ones attacking the zones? The woman who blew up the bakery warned me to leave to stay safe.

  “And if I am?” I whisper. A shudder vibrates through my body. I replay the memory of the room in my head. If I am one of them, then I am now in the enemy’s hands.

  Jackie doesn’t answer right away. I’m about to repeat the question when Jackie finally says, “Then you won’t survive to see the next day.”

  NINE

  I follow Jackie silently to the dining hall. Before we enter, I stop her with the barest touch of my hand – not enough to get a reading. “Why did you show me the names?” Suspicious of her motivation, I ask, “If I can’t be trusted?”

  “You’re locked in a room.” Jackie waves to people who pass us as they go in and out of the dining room hall. Every single one gives me a questioning glance that I ignore. “Alarms go off every door you go through.” Jackie eyes the swelling on my neck. “You have bruises from head to toe.” She shrugs. “I don’t know who you are, but something tells me you could use all the help you can get.”

  Focused on her words, I barely see the dining hall as we enter. They remind me of who I am — alone with no one to care. A shoulder jostles mine, pulling me from my thoughts. I force myself to refocus. Long tables with bench seats sit evenly spaced in perfect rows. Knives and forks scrape against plates as hundreds of seated students eat and talk. The hard tile floor reminds me of the orphanage. Conversation slows before stopping as people start to notice us. I refuse to react as they point and stare.

  “Everyone, this is Alexia.” Jackie raises her voice. It bounces off the white walls. “Alexia, this is everyone.” The room stays silent, watching. “Tough crowd,” Jackie mutters with an exaggerated eye roll. “Come on.” She leads me through the maze of tables to the food stands set against the wall. Slowly conversation starts to resume until its back to normal. “They’ll stare and then move on,” Jackie says. “Ignore them.”

  “Is everyone here able to get visions?” I study the crowd, noting the mix of nationalities and ages.

  “Agents and readers mixed in,” Jackie answers. “Some are just starting. Others are getting ready for the Evaluation.” She hands me a plate. “Help yourself.” She stabs an oversized fork into a slab of meat then sets it on her plate.

  Meat, bread, and cheeses fight for space on oversized platters. I stand still, remembering the kids in the orphanage. They would have cried at the sight. They are all back home, always hungry and desperate for food, while I can choose whatever I want to eat.

  Jackie eyes my empty plate. “Are we not eating?”

  “Where do you get all the food from?” I ask quietly.

  Jackie analyzes the spread an
d then my thin frame. “Never seen so much food before?” On my silence, Jackie says, “Take my advice — eat. You’ll need it for training.”

  I steal a glance around the hall. Everyone eats without a second thought. Still hesitant, I turn back but my stomach grumbles, pleading with me for food. Ahead of me, Jackie continues to pile her plate high. Weak and tired, I know I need strength to plan and execute my escape.

  I choose only the food I recognize—cheese, bread, and real chicken. Spotting the cutlery, I check to make sure Jackie’s not watching then slip a cutting knife into the back of my pants. The jagged edge of the steel calms me. Thirsty, I fill a glass with pink juice then take a healthy swallow. The bitter sting bathes my tongue. I spit it out, covering my chin with droplets.

  “This is disgusting.” I wipe my chin clean of the liquid. “What is it?”

  Jackie chuckles. “A blend of vitamins and minerals.” She takes my glass to mix in some orange-colored juice. “You have to dilute it.”

  Hesitant, I take a small sip. The sweet and fruity mix settles on my tongue. I drain the glass and refill it with the same combination. “Better. Thanks.”

  The sun steals through the window to shine down on us. Back home, the kids would already be up and finished with their breakfast. Soon they’ll start on their chores. Jenna will keep a careful eye on them to protect them from Agatha’s wrath.

  “How can I get a message to someone at the orphanage?” I lower my voice and look around to make sure no one has overheard.

  Jackie stops filling her plate. “To Zone One?”

  “What do you mean, to Zone One?” I search the hall as if it holds the answer. “Where are we?”

  “The Circle is thousands of miles from everything.” Jackie sneers in disgust at a bowl of greens. “Need Serafina’s permission to get a message to the zones.”

  Every limb in my body falls numb. I fist my free hand to stop the tremors as my body kicks back to life. The walls close in on me. Trapped, I have no hope of getting out.