Authors: Casey L. Bond
Catalyst (16 page)
When Zara walked out of the room, I moved to a back corner, out of the way. It wasn’t Aric who walked through her bedroom door. It was Cason. He followed the elderly couple who had chosen him as their companion. There was no collar around his thick neck.
The couple moved toward the bed, the woman dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Their eyes found mine. The woman smiled, and the man’s wrinkles softened a little.
“She’s too young for all of this,” the woman observed with a trembling voice. The man nodded but didn’t speak.
Cason’s face pinched together as he looked me over.
I swallowed and then pursed my lips so that all the questions I wanted to ask him wouldn’t spill out in a torrent.
The woman drew my attention away from him. “Have you been seeing to her, young man?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her hunched form hobbled toward me. She reached for my hands and put her withered ones inside mine. Her skin was cool and paper thin. “My name is Rosemary and this is Irving Fletcher, my husband. What is your name?”
“Mitis, ma’am.”
Rosemary smiled, her deep, blue eyes twinkling. “Mitis, we have known the Andersons for quite some time. I’m sure you’ve noticed their absence. Greed. It does strange things to a person. Please, watch out for her. Watch out for Seven. She’s a good girl.”
“I will. Thank you for visiting her.”
“If she wakes, tell her we checked on her.”
The fact that she said
if
took my breath away. It was like someone had sucker punched me in the stomach. Somehow, I managed a reply. “Yes, ma’am.”
Mrs. Fletcher nodded and smiled, then turned to Case.
“Cason, would you like to stay and visit with your friend for a while?”
“That would be very nice.”
“Very well,” the woman replied. “We will see you at home later.”
The look she gave Cason was strange. She was smiling and saying more with her eyes than she ever could with her mouth.
Cason and I watched his owners leave Seven’s room, the man gently pulling the door closed behind him.
I was thankful for the privacy and a moment with my friend. We hadn’t seen each other since the ceremony.
We had a lot to talk about.
Eaves
·
drop
/ˈ
ēv
zˌ
dräp/
verb
- secretly listen to a conversation.
I WAS IN
my room. The feel of the soft sheets and smell of the lavender-scented linen spray that Zara made and used wrapped all around me. So did the warmth. Maybe it wasn’t the blankets that were so comforting. Maybe it was his deep voice. Mitis. He was talking to someone. He had been since I woke up. I tried so hard to be still and quiet.
My body hurt. Every single inch of it ached. I felt like I’d been lying here for days.
How did we get home? I remember being at the warehouse, the smoke and running…
“They’ll help us. That’s why they bought me. I’m the Fletchers’ second companion. They helped the other escape, too.”
“But why would they do that? People enter the program voluntarily,” Mitis argued.
Chair legs scraped against the wooden floor. “We both know that isn’t true most of the time. They’re working to get rid of the program altogether, but they’re old. There’s only so much they can do. They’re also working to get rid of Anderson.”
Get rid of my dad?
“How so?”
“Elections are being held in the fall. They’re financing his opponent.”
My leg twitched involuntarily. The slight swish of the sheets might as well have been a metal gong. Both men stilled, as did their conversation. The gig was up. So I stretched and blinked my eyes open groggily.
“I should go. Let me know what you want to do,” Cason said.
“Thanks, man.” Mitis clapped him on the shoulder and moved to the bedside, forgetting his friend. It would’ve made most girls swoon, but it made me sad. He would need Cason’s help getting home. I’d caused him nothing but trouble.
Me and my stupid list. I was so selfish. Mitis had spent days catering to my last wishes. I could have gotten him away from here. He could already be home by now.
A tear defiantly fell from my eyes. My mouth was so cottony. I didn’t know how I had tears in reserve at this point.
I sat up, crossing my legs beneath the pile of blankets and sheets, barely seeing Cason pull the door closed behind him.
“What happened last night?” I rasped.
Mitis glanced wearily at me. “It’s been days. You were sick. At the bonfire and the warehouse, you were sick. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I swallowed the guilt. “I wanted to be normal—just for one night.”
He snorted a huff. “Your dad wants my head on a pike.”
“I doubt he cares that much.”
Mitis sat on the edge of my bed. “How are you feeling now? Your fever’s gone.”
“Just tired. Every part of me is so tired.” I tried to stretch again, but it hurt. It hurt like I’d worn a ponytail for too long and had taken it down. Pins, needles, and aches.
He reached into his pocket and took the familiar folded parchment in his hands, unraveling it, smoothing it over his thigh before clearing his throat.
“I marked a few things off.”
-
Go swimming. -
Sleep under the stars -
Go to a party -
Dance with a guy -
…in the rain -
Make a mess -
Have my first kiss -
Drive a car -
….really fast. - Walk the perimeter of the wall
-
Go to the market - Drink alcohol
- Get a tattoo
- Blend in
- Belly laugh
- Hold someone’s hand
- Give a random person a hug
- Help Mitis
- …and his friend.
20. Leave the city.
21. Take a piggyback ride from a really hot guy.
He smiled crookedly. “Pretty sure we could trash your room if you want.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m good. I’m done with the list.” My body was done. That much was one hundred percent true. I took the list from his hands, folded it and tucked it inside the case of the pillow behind me. “Tattoos aren’t legal in Confidence and I don’t think I’ll be sleeping under the stars at this point.”
My head sank into the plush down pillow, feeling the sharp corner of the folded-up dreams dig into the flesh of my neck. I was just thankful that I’d done more in the past week than I had in the past few years.
“I want you to go with Cason.” Staring at the ceiling was easy. Looking at Mitis would have broken my heart into a thousand razor-sharp shards. I was already on the verge of crying. If I looked at him, I’d burst apart and he would stay—regardless of my words.
Mitis brushed the back of his fingers over my cheek, carving a path down my jaw. Softly, he whispered, “I can’t leave. You have to get better so you can come with us.”
Holding back tears, I sniffed. “I’m not going to get better
. I
can’t make it. But you
can
.” I looked directly at him. “It’s what I want most of all. I want you to be free, to get out of this hell hole. Go to your home, or travel some place new and build a fresh start, but don’t stay here. If you stay until I’m gone, you’ll be trapped. That would be the worst thing I could ever imagine for you, Mitis.”
Zara knocked twice and peeked into the room. She was beyond surprised to see me awake. That sent her into an absolute frenzy. Before I knew it, I was helped into the bathtub. She left to go make some broth for me, while I soaked in the warm water, feeling a cold so severe it cut to my very core. My heart was breaking. One way or another, I was losing Mitis.
He would leave or I would die. That would be the end of us.
And it was devastating.
It was breaking me into a thousand shards that no one would bother to piece back together.
A SILKY TRAIL
of steam wafted up from the bowl of chicken broth. Zara had Sonnet bring it up to me, but promised Mitis a more substantial meal to follow shortly. Sonnet had marched in with the tray of food, set it on the table and retraced her steps out the door without uttering so much as a word to me or Mitis.
Spooning some of the golden liquid into the spoon, I brought it to my mouth, blew it for a few seconds, watching ripples spread over the surface, and then sipped. It was delicious, even more so since it was the first thing to hit my stomach in days. It rumbled loudly, embarrassing the daylights out of me. Mitis chuckled as he sat beside me, watching me slurp the soup down in an unladylike fashion that would have had Mother screeching for days had she seen it.
That thought made me smile.
I must have drank the soup too quickly. Sharp pangs started in my stomach, but they started to spread. Because before long, I was doubled over, screaming from the pain radiating through my abdomen and Mitis went running for help. While he was gone, it wasn’t soup that I vomited. It was blood. Splattered all over the floor, the green bedclothes, and the walls. I was covered in crimson.
Poi
·
son
/ˈ
poiz
(ə
)n/
noun
- a substance with an inherent property that tends to destroy life or impair health.
- something harmful or pernicious, as to happiness or well-being:
- Slang.
any variety of alcoholic liquor:
verb (used with object)
- to administer poison to (a person or animal).
- to kill or injure with or as if with poison.
- to put poison into or upon; saturate with poison:
- to ruin, vitiate, or corrupt:
- Chemistry.
to destroy or diminish the activity of (a catalyst or enzyme).
I’D GONE TO
put her bowl on the tray when she let out the first whimper, clutching her stomach, face contorted in pain. The spoon spun, circling around the rim of the bowl, screaming around the circumference as though it felt what Seven was feeling. Tears poured out of her eyes and her mouth gaped in a scream, silent but louder than anything I’d ever heard. I ran for help.
Down the stairs, into the kitchen, my feet propelled me forward. That’s where I heard Sonnet yelling at someone.
She was holding a page to her ear. With an exasperated eye roll, she growled and then said, “I gave it to her. This should be it.”
With her back to me, she picked at her cuticles. “I know how much to give her. I’ve been doing it for a while now.” Another pause. “I tripled it. She won’t recover. Not from this, there’s no way.”
My chest heaved and I could feel my face heat, my muscles tense. They were poisoning her. I hadn’t seen it. Sonnet always brought her meals.
A scream came from upstairs. Sonnet turned and looked at me, her mouth gaping open. She clicked the page off and removed it from her ear.
“What are you doing here, scrub?” she shrieked.
“Seven is sick. She needs to go to the hospital!”
Her eyes narrowed. Seven hollered again as if on cue. Sonnet pinched her features together. “It won’t do any good. The doctors said she was too far gone. They can only keep her comfortable at this point.”
Blood filled my mouth. I’d bitten my tongue. “She’s extremely uncomfortable, so I say let’s let them try.”
“Who says you get a say?”
I didn’t back down, just stared at her until she made the right decision.
She huffed, crossed her arms and said, “Let me get my bag.” I heard her paging a driver as she ascended the stairs. Rushing to Seven’s side, I picked her up. She was covered in blood. Everything was. When I lifted her, she cried out, but it was the only way. “Shh. We’re going to the hospital. Okay? They’ll help you.”
She shook her head. “You…
go
, Mitis. Please.”
“I will
not
leave you!”
Someone had to fight for her. And it was going to be me.
The steps jostled her, and I hated that it hurt her, but it had to be done. Sometimes you had to cause a little pain to save someone you loved.
A car was pulling around the driveway when I carried Seven outside. The mid-afternoon sun was shining bright, mocking what a God-awful moment this was. Easing into the car, I held Seven in my lap and closed the back door. Sonnet still hadn’t appeared. She was probably paging whomever she’d been conspiring with to kill her sister, to tell the person that I’d overheard their conversation.
I’d kill her. If she killed Seven, I’d not only put a knife in their father, I’d kill Sonnet, too. People like the Elite, like the Elect, could get away with anything, even murder. Sonnet would never be punished for her deeds—not by any authority in Confidence. The Elect were the authority.
The ride to the hospital was a blur. I concentrated on keeping Seven as still as possible despite the bumps and turns. Seven’s skin was frigid, but she wasn’t shivering. She was limp, and that scared the hell out of me.
“Can you hurry?” I yelled at the driver.
He was going as fast as he could without mowing someone over, but it wasn’t fast enough. I couldn’t even tell if she was breathing. My fingers felt for her pulse along the side of her neck. It was there, but barely.
A team was waiting with a rolling bed outside the emergency entrance of the hospital. Everyone eyeballed me as I climbed out with Seven in my arms. I walked to the bed and gently eased her onto it. Two soldiers began to flank me. Someone remembered the last episode.
I held my hands up, watching them strap Seven down, to keep her from rolling off. They were helping her.
She was lifeless.
My soul was cracking.
So did my voice.
“Seven, be strong. I’m here! I’m here. I won’t leave you. I will
not
leave you. Do you hear me?” They wheeled her toward a pair of automatic doors that opened wide like jaws, swallowing her and the team of doctors too.
I paced outside the hospital because the soldiers were still…guarding me. They hadn’t let me leave their sight. Storming my way inside was all I could think about, other than killing Sonnet. I needed to see Seven, to see if she was okay.
While raking my fingers through my short hair again, a black car pulled up in front of me. Sonnet stepped out, followed by Elect Anderson.
Anderson scowled and marched toward me. The guards swarmed to part the pair of us. “Take him into custody immediately!” he bellowed.
“For what? She’s the one you need to arrest!” I thrust my finger toward Sonnet.
The guards paid no attention to what I screamed. Handcuffs were slapped onto my wrists, and I was led to the back of the parking lot where I was stuffed into the back of a soldier’s car. Effectively, I was right back at the starting point, except my brother was dead and Seven wasn’t waiting for me in the car. Seven’s sister was poisoning her. And she was about to die with her murderer by her side, maybe even holding her hand. The thought made me sick.
Two soldiers, their hands digging into my biceps, dragged me from the hospital, the large neon cross bleeding into the soft colors of the sky.
“Stop…struggling, scrub!”
I bucked, kicked and twisted. “Seven!”
They tightened their grip.
“You don’t understand, her sister is poisoning her!”
“
You
are poisoning her. Elect Anderson is providing evidence. And you will hang for what you’ve done!”
I didn’t listen. I couldn’t care less about my own neck, but Seven was going to die if they didn’t help her.
My muscles burned. My wrists bled, but I couldn’t give up on her. She wouldn’t give up on me.
Screaming until my throat was stripped and I couldn’t scream anymore, I fought them. I fought them until a sickening crack filled my ears. Then everything went silent, dark.
I BLINKED AWAKE
, but it was black as pitch. Everything on my body hurt. My arms were numb, shackled to some sort of pipe above my head. I tried to pull them away from the cold steel, but it was no use. There was no slack. I sat on a cold slab of roughly-hewn stone. Something skittered across the flesh of my bare feet. I kicked until it moved on.
“Where am I?” I croaked, barely able to get the sound past my lips.
No one answered. No one answered for days.
Sleep and wakefulness blurred. Time meant nothing.
No food. No water. Cotton tongue and numb hands. And darkness, dampness.
And no Seven. She wasn’t there.