Unremarkable (Anything But) (20 page)

“
You also need to relax.”

Christian paused to frown at the shorter, less muscular boy who didn’t appear to be afraid of too many people.

That look caused James to add, “I have a laptop with all the information you seek. Weapons are on the way. But it is dangerous traveling anywhere and it takes time, and caution. It could be weeks before they show up. We can use that time to go over strategies and strengthen the group.”

“
Where’s the laptop?”

“
In safekeeping for now. Everything on it is already here.” He tapped the side of his head. “Of course the government is involved. They funded the virus testing all those years ago. The only thing we don’t know is if that lab was supposed to blow up, literally, or if that was by accident. As far as facilities, there are at least two in each state, some states have more. Of course, there could be some we don’t even know about, like the underground parts of them and the tunnels that connect them. Then there are the dungeons as well, where they keep their playthings. Most people are not privy to that information.”

“
How did you figure it all out?”

“
Bugs, spies, and I am also a technological genius.”

“
Modest too.”

“
To a fault.” They shared a grin, Christian’s grudging. “I also had Nealon helping me.” James cleared his throat and turned his attention to the creek.

Christian sighed, rubbing his face. He gave James a moment before continuing. “August isn’t the only one running the show. How many others are there?”

“At least five, maybe more. They are more low-key—conservative—than August. It’s hard to gauge nameless, faceless beings’ frames of minds, you know? But they have to have some idea what he’s doing and they’re allowing it.”

“
Right. They need to go as well.”

“
Most likely.”

“
It really isn’t up for debate.” James stared at him, the intense gaze of his eyes disorienting to Christian. He looked away; sure the boy could see more than he wanted him to. “How old are you, James?”

“
Sixteen.”

He nodded, watching a fly zoom past his face. “And what do you hope the outcome of all of this will be?”

“I want it stopped.”

“
No matter what?”

James swallowed. “No matter what.”

Christian grinned mirthlessly, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good answer.”

He began to walk toward the training field when James called his name. He turned back, one eyebrow lifted as he waited.

“You would tell me…if Nealon were alive…right?”

He schooled his features into blankness as he answered, “Absolutely.”

The boy’s face fell and he strode away, unable to look too closely at that kind of sadness.

The wall was gray, jagged
scratches down the length of it and crisscrossing over it in a paler shade, tarnished with blood. It was cool in the cell and smelled like old blood and waste. She sat in the middle of the prison and stared at the wall, numb. Tortured beings cried and wailed around her, designated to their corners of the dungeon, separated from her by bars and walls. She wished they would shut up, but it didn’t bother her enough to react.

They were all dead.

Tears formed in her eyes and the lids slid shut against them, trying to lock the ache inside. Her throat was painfully tight and her chest had a hole in it too big to fill. It could never be filled. The loss of them could never be replaced. Arms wrapped around herself, she rocked from side to side, wanting it all gone. If only she could open her eyes and realize it was all a nightmare. Honor did so, but the same wall was before her as when she had closed them. She cried silently, all alone, so alone. She cried for her father, for her mother, for her sister, for Isaac, and for Ryder. She even cried for the life she had taken, though it had ended up being for nothing. She’d killed a man—a boy, really—and she’d still lost her family.

Anyone she had ever cared about was dead.

He’d left Ryder’s still body on the hard ground—left him there to rot, dragging her and her mother away. She hadn’t been able to talk to her, to even touch her, before she was wrenched away by UDK agents. Honor and her mother had been separated hours, days, she didn’t even know how long, ago. She knew they were dead. August had done nothing but lie to her. They had to be dead. She couldn’t afford to hope anymore. It hurt too much.

All the words Ryder had spoken to her; the look in his eyes; the fierce way he'd fought to protect her—it was agony remembering their final times together. Why hadn't she said more, done more? Why couldn't they have been honest with each other from the start? So much time had been lost and now she could never get it back. Honor could never get
him
back.

Her grief was tugged in so many varying directions, but what she was the most remorseful about; second only to the loss of Ryder, was not telling Isaac everything she should have when she’d had the chance—or any of the people she cared about. There was so much left unspoken and it would forever remain so. She should have told Isaac what she’d found in the apartment while she waited for the UDKs to come for her. She should have told him about the journal of Demi's she’d found under the floorboard of the bedroom closet.

She’d been bored, aimless, and had decided to investigate the apartment that had once housed a woman the agent had loved, even until his final day on earth. To anyone else the information would have been insignificant, but to him it would have been priceless. She’d denied him that.

Maybe it would have been too painful to read the words of love, of the devastating slide from happiness to incomprehension to depression, and then emptiness. Demi had loved Isaac. Even her last entry was proof that, amid all the confusion her life was at that time, her brain had tried to put into words her love for him. Would that have given him closure or only hurt him more? That was the prevalent thought she’d had as she sat across from him in that cell and listened to his confession, and so she’d remained close-lipped on the journal. But now…now she wished she would have told him. Not that it mattered anymore. He was dead.

And so she sat—waiting, hating, and somehow emotionless at the same time. She grabbed the revulsion she felt for August, for all of the UDKs, and she held on tight with both hands, and sculpted it, melded it, formed it into a ball, and wrapped her arms around it to let it grow, protected, within the cocoon of her embrace. It was all she thought about—revenge. But even as she focused on that emotion and honed it, she knew she would lose herself if she let it completely take her over. Which was what he wanted. 

He was trying to break her.

Her thoughts always went to those cut off fingers and she had to force herself to think of something, anything, else. Chills would overcome her and bile would rise in her throat each time she allowed her mind to drift. She could clearly picture her sister’s face, frozen in pain and horror, her mouth wide in a silent scream, and something like madness wanted to descend on her. So she shoved it away, shoved anything that mattered into a dark, inaccessible box. She couldn’t open that box or she’d go insane. Was she already crazy? Honor shook her head, dizziness hitting her. She didn't know.

Picking at the frayed hem of her shirt that had once belonged to a UDK turned UD turned dead; a flash of brown eyes paralyzed her and stole her breath. Isaac. It hurt to see him, even in her head. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and began to count instead, anything to distract her. Ryder’s mocking smile and olive green eyes took over Isaac’s image and a choked sound left her.

Honor placed her hands over her eyes and pushed, wishing she could take the images from the inside of her head away, cut them out,
something
. She began to laugh. She tried to stop and only laughed harder, and when the mournful cries of whoever—whatever—was on the outside of her cell grew in volume, she laughed so hard her sides hurt and tears streamed down her face. The laughter broke off and sobs took its place. 

She was losing her mind.

The clink of a door opening in the distance snuck through the chaos inside Honor’s brain. Boots clicked on the cement floor and stopped outside her cell.

“
Let’s go, UD.”

Honor slowly raised her head. “I am
not
a UD,” she snarled, glaring at the agent.

The woman snorted. “And my name’s not Elaine.” Her features were blunt and unattractive, more manly than feminine. The short slicked-back hair didn’t help her exterior.

“Your presence is requested upstairs. You get to have blood work drawn. Aren’t you the lucky one?” She smiled thinly.

“
Make me.”

Agent Medina’s small eyes widened as her nostrils flared. “I’ll be happy to.”

Honor tensed as a code was put into the keypad outside the cell and it unlocked, swinging open. The agent approached; one hand ready on the hilt of her weapon. She could have told her not to bother. The woman was just to Honor when she grabbed the woman’s leg and pulled, a cry of surprise leaving her as she fell backward, her head cracking on the cement as she landed. That could have been the end of it, but it wasn’t enough. She burned to eradicate each and every single one of them. Honor removed the shiny knife from the agent’s boot and effortlessly slid it across her neck, turning away from the gurgling sound and walking from the cell.

She felt nothing.

She paused near the spot Ryder had lain, her chest twisting at the dark stain left on the floor. An ache wove around her heart and squeezed. She had the urge to bend down and touch the dried liquid that had once been a part of the boy who’d needed something to believe in and had unfortunately chosen her. She’d been wrong about him. So many times she’d thought the worst and she should have been thinking the best.

Honor blinked her eyes and moved onward, punching in the code to unlock the remaining cells as she passed. The code was four beeps, all different in pitch, and not hard to remember, not for Honor. One plus to being whatever she was, was her abnormally good hearing. Cries of terror and elation broke out around her, combining with the shrill ring of an alarm to pulse a steady beat of pain through Honor’s head. Bodies swarmed by her, instinctively knowing not to get too close to her. She caught glimpses of ragged clothing and dirty faces.

She grabbed the nearest arm and a girl with black hair flinched, trying to pull back. “Who are you, why are you here, and what are they doing to you?” she demanded.

“
I’m—I’m Celeste,” she stuttered, fear enlarging her green eyes.

“
You’re a UDK,” Honor said flatly, dropping her arm.

“
Yes.” The girl nodded. “I was. But I was too scared to do the training and I got sent away, to here. I’ve been here for days, waiting—”

“
Waiting for what?”

“
I don’t know. I was told I would be made better. Sometimes they come and take my blood; other times they give me transfusions to make me stronger, only I don’t feel stronger. I feel…wrong.” Her almond-shaped eyes fixated on Honor. “Do you know how they are going to make me better?”

Honor didn’t answer her, shoving past her.

The tattered group of test-subject UDKs was met by a handful of armed agents near the elevators. The agents were killed before they could draw their weapons, their features forever frozen in disbelief. Without uneven breathing or guilty conscience, Honor unseeingly looked at the fallen men and women, it faintly registering in her mind that she was responsible for their lifelessness. She didn’t care, walking over them and into the awaiting elevator. She wasn’t even fully aware of how she had dispatched of them. They’d been a threat and then they hadn’t been anymore. The actions had been unthinking, instinctual, and produced a feeling of satisfaction within her.

The imprisoned UDKs stared at her in fear, watching her until the doors slid closed between them. An image looked back at her on the silvery-mirrored door, warped and disjointed. It was her. She tilted her head, widening her stance as the elevator moved up. She was covered in dirt and blood, her hair a tangled mess around her face, the clothes on her ripped and torn. Her features were a blur, giving her a sense of being without an identity, which was how she felt. Honor was gone. The girl she had been wouldn’t be coming back.

The door dinged and more agents waited, crouched low, guns aimed and cocked. Bullets fired and zinged past her, Honor bending and ducking around them. One hit her arm and she barely felt it. The agents unconsciously divided and made room for her to pass. Soon the ammunition was gone and guns hung useless at sides, astonished faces turned toward her. At the end of the throng was August.

Arms open, a grin on his face, he said, “Welcome, Honor, to your new life.” Mutters of outrage erupted behind them, cut off with a stern look from Superior August.

“I’ve heard that before.” She stopped before him. “You reward me for killing your followers? How do you justify that?”

“
I reward you for turning into what I wanted you to be. The loss of lives is inconsequential. Look at you, all grown up and lethal,” he mused, rubbing his firm jaw as he studied her.

It sickened her; deep down where she still cared about things, that she had done anything to please him, that what he had wanted, had ultimately happened. She had let him win. Ryder had told her not to, Isaac had told her to always do what was right, and she’d failed them both. But they were dead, so did it really matter?
It should matter to you
, whispered in the far recesses of her brain, too far away to warrant any influence.

“
You,” he breathed, clapping heavy hands on her stiff shoulders, “are my true child.”

“
I am
nothing
of yours.”

“
Come now.” He made a tsking sound, dropping his hands. “You are mine. Every part of you, I
own
. I made you. You were just a normal girl until I fixed you.” He leaned close, his breath stale as he said, “You can thank me now.”

“
You didn’t fix me. You
destroyed
me. Purposely. You took
everything
from me, took away anyone I ever cared about. Why would I
ever
thank you?” The rage bottled up inside her wanted to be released, longed to be unbridled on the being standing by her.

Honor took a deep breath, fighting for the control it was getting harder and harder to find. “You know what? I will thank you. One day. I will show you all the thanks I can,” she promised.

“Why not today?” He grinned thinly when she didn’t respond, looking at his robots. “Clean the mess up downstairs and then head to the lab. It’s time.”

“
Time for what?” She received hateful looks as agents swept by. She returned the glare. They were all idiots and pretty soon they would all be dead idiots. 

“
I need your blood again. I have a supply I gained during your unconsciousness, but it is dwindling, the results unsatisfactory. That is why I kept you unconscious for so long. I was building up my supply. Only now I need more.” August grabbed her wrist and squeezed, dragging her down the empty hallway.