Authors: Stephanie Thomas
Chapter Six
The glass shooter clinks against a smaller, purple and gray marble, knocking it clear out of the circle. At the Institution, we play for keeps, so Mae reaches over and grabs the swirled marble and drops it into her black velvet pouch.
“I wanted that one.” She shakes the pouch with a smile as big as her face and all the marbles click together
.
I roll my eyes, since there are about three marbles that look just like it still sitting in the circle. She’s trying to flirt with Brandon again, but of course, he’s not paying attention. Brandon never pays attention. This is why he hasn’t earned his raven’s wings yet. While he has Visions, he doesn’t quite mind them, so when it comes time to report, he gets all the details confused and the Vision ends up being pointless. Just like Mae’s flirting. But it’s fun to watch. And in a way, I can connect to Mae. She understands the desire to keep someone close.
I imagine if I had sisters, they would be like Connie and Mae. They are the closest thing to family that I will ever have, so I confide in them and trust them to keep my secrets safe. Well, most of my secrets. I don’t tell them everything.
Gabe sits next to me, and between Mae and Brandon, Connie nibbles on a snack.
It’s her turn, so Constance puts whatever she is eating down and picks up her shooter. Holding it in front of her thumb and pointer finger, she tilts her wrist and angles it just right to send the larger marble rolling toward the smaller ones. A bunch of them
clack
and
tink
together, but none of them make it outside the chalk circle.
“Darn it.” Constance swears and picks up her snack again.
When I look at Gabe, he is already looking at me and my heart beats a bit faster. I didn’t tell him about my visit with the Widow yet, and I still haven’t decided if I am going to. Keeping it to myself these past three days has been hard, but I fear bringing Gabe into it. He’s all I have on my side right now, and the only one who knows about the strange Visions. Even without me saying, we both know to keep them secret.
“It’s your turn, Gabe.” I remind him, since he’s still looking at me.
“Oh yeah. I only have three marbles left in there anyway.”
“Well, stop sucking and maybe you’ll do a little better,” Brandon cuts in with a laugh.
Gabe doesn’t rise to the taunt. He flicks his marble into the circle and knocks out an amber one with gold flecks inside.
“Aww, that was my favorite,” Connie mumbles through whatever is in her mouth, crumbs flying everywhere.
I laugh and half lean against Mae when Gabe whispers something in my ear. “What’s going on?”
I sit up again and let the others take their turns shooting marbles. They aren’t paying much attention to us, not even when I pull at Gabe’s shirt and nod my head toward the window on the far side of the room. “We can talk there.”
We both stand, and before the others have a chance to complain, I say, “I need to talk to Gabe. We forfeit.”
“Then you forfeit your marbles, too!” Constance blurts, eager to have her amber one back from Gabe.
Gabe rolls the marble in her direction, then walks to the window. I follow him, and behind me, I can hear Mae, Connie, and Brandon continuing the game without us.
When we are alone, I speak to Gabe in a hushed whisper, careful to not let anyone overhear us. The last thing I need is to be quarantined. To have them take away what I love.
“Gabe, I can’t say too much.”
“Why not? I thought I was your best friend.” Immediately, he is turned off by my aloofness. I can hear it in the way he clips his words.
“You are, and that hasn’t changed. And it won’t.” I nervously cast a glance around the room. “It’s just…a lot is at stake, is all. More than you know.”
“Then let me know.” Gabe follows my gaze. “I won’t tell anyone else.”
I hesitate. Should I tell him? Will he keep it secret? And if someone finds out, what will happen to Gabe? But if I don’t tell him, he will probably hold it against me…and I can’t lose him.
“Here, I will let you know something in exchange.” Gabe barters with me, which only heightens my intrigue. What can he possibly say that has the same weight as what he wants me to tell him?
“I had another Vision. But this time, you were in it.” Gabe brushes his hair back out of his eyes, and I can see the struggle in his gaze as he tries to recall the details. This is often a problem with those whose Visions have yet to mature fully—they forget them soon after, like a dream. This is why the Keeper documents Visions as soon as they happen.
“Me?” I put a hand to my chest. “A Vision about me?”
“Yes. It was you standing in the middle of a ring of Dreamcatchers. Armed Dreamcatchers. They were all pointing their weapons at you, like the firing squad at Paradigm’s execution. I don’t know if they were going to kill you, though.” Gabe pauses. “There was one in particular who stood out.” He looks away. “But I don’t remember much about that one. I just can’t remember.”
I think about the Vision and what it might mean. It could be anything. Will I be captured by the Dreamcatchers?
“Maybe it’s not really important,” I reply.
“I hope it’s not, Beatrice. I don’t want anything to happen to you, and surely not at the hands of the Dreamcatchers.” Gabe leans his elbow against the wall, resting his head on the palm of his hand. “So, what do you have to say to top that?” He smiles his usual smile, and for that moment, everything is back to normal.
“I visited the Widow the other night.”
“You
what
?”
“She told me that I have to keep my Visions to myself and make sure the Keeper doesn’t hear of them. So you can’t tell anyone about anything that you know, Gabe.”
Gabe searches my face, his violet eyes round with concern. “I won’t, Bea. But…why?”
“Because too much is at stake.”
He frowns. “You aren’t telling me everything.”
With a sigh, I stare into his eyes, wishing I could let him know. I want to grab him and tell him about the Dreamcatchers, and how the Widow was removed from the Institution. I want to tell him that we are all in danger if I don’t figure out what the Dreamcatcher wants from me.
But I can’t.
Nothing comes out. Gabe turns away from me and stares out the window into the courtyard below.
I do the same, eying the carefully manicured shrubbery and the songbirds that flitter back and forth, their warbling echoing off the walls. They are so alive in a city that seems so dead.
“I’m sorry, Gabe.”
“I don’t understand how you can keep something like this from me.” Gabe doesn’t look at me when he talks, and it bothers me.
“I’m doing it to protect you.” I reach out and brush my fingers against his. This draws his attention back to me, probably because I’ve never touched Gabe like that before, but it seems like the right time to do so. It paralyzes us both, and we are left staring at each other. Words should be spoken here. Something should be done, but nothing happens. We just stare.
Finally, Gabe relents. “Whatever.” He pulls his hand away from mine and walks away, leaving me standing by the window.
A shadow of a helicopter passes by, drawing my attention to the outside. Fury creeps up my arms and through my body, especially when I see in the reflection of the window that Gabe has not only walked away from me, but has walked right out of the room as well. Damn him. I wish he’d just understand that I’m doing this to protect him, but he is stubborn.
“What was that about?” Connie calls out, and I turn to see her watching the others as they make their moves with their marbles.
Heading back in their direction, I stop next to the circle, towering above it like the Institution towering over the City. My shadow engulfs all the glass pieces as they
click
and
clack
, pushing and repelling one another around the floor. “He’s feeling a little grumpy today. You know how Gabe is when he doesn’t get his way.”
Mae giggles, plucking up a marble or two that she’s won. “He’s a brat when he doesn’t get his way, isn’t he?”
Brandon grins at Mae, ignoring that she has just taken over two of his favorite marbles.
Mae shoots me a look, telling me without words not to point out that she’s the new victor of Brandon’s favorite marbles.
“Exactly.” I sit down and grab my pouch of marbles, looking at Brandon and Connie. “So, whose turn is it?”
“Well, Mae just went, so I guess that makes it Brandon’s turn.” Connie leans on the palms of her hands. “Do you think Gabe will come back? He didn’t finish the game, and his marbles are all over the place.”
“I think we should just take them if we win them. Fair game, right?” Brandon picks up his shooter and aims it toward the gathering of glass in the middle of the circle. Squinting, he examines the field, then sits up. “Who took my red and cyan marbles?”
“You said we forfeited anyway. So what’s it matter? Just take the marbles.” I don’t really care that much. I still have a few of my favorites left in my pouch.
Mae innocently smiles, which of course pinpoints her as the culprit. Shrugging, my slender and too-small friend makes a vague gesture toward the other marbles on the floor. “Fair game, right? I won them.”
I didn’t know Brandon could turn into the color of an apple. “What? I wasn’t even paying attention!”
“She won them fair and square.” I speak with authority. Brandon seems to settle down instead of erupting like a little volcano. His coloring returns to normal, no longer the deep crimson that made him fruit-like. “Anyway, it’s your turn, Brandon.”
Brandon begrudgingly shoots his marble across the circle and it hits absolutely nothing. This is the last straw for our otherwise sensitive friend. “I don’t want to play any more.” He scoops his marbles out of the circle and shoves them in his green velvet pouch marked with a golden “B.”
“Don’t be a sore loser, Brandon.” I roll my eyes, but he’s not paying attention. Once the marbles are collected, he storms out of the room in a Gabe-like manner. “What is with boys today?”
“What is with them every day? I can never figure them out. And you know what? It’s like they are all the same, throwing their little temper tantrums and storming off.” Connie starts to pick her marbles up, collecting each glass piece until only mine and Mae’s are left on the floor. “I guess that’s the end of our game, though.”
“Maybe they are just made like that,” Mae hypothesizes, and in my head I think about Gabe and Brandon going through an assembly line as they are put together, their temper tantrums and all.
“Maybe. I don’t see how they ever think any girl is going to like them if they act like that.” I look back up at Mae and Connie and grin. “Boys will be boys.”
We all fall into a fit of giggles that are much too girly, and reserved for when we are alone. Mae and I start to pick our marbles up at the same time. I look over my shoulder at the door, wondering where the boys have gone. Probably back to their bunks where they can sulk in private. Should I have followed Gabe? Is that what he wanted me to do? “Oh well.”
“So, what’s up between you and Gabe anyway, Beatrice? You two seem to be getting closer…well, with the exception of whatever just happened,” Mae says.
I don’t know where to start with that question. What
is
up with me and Gabe? “I don’t know, really. One moment he wants to be close, and then the next minute he acts like this. And all because I won’t tell him everything that’s going on in my life. I mean…that’s my choice, right?”
“Right.” Mae finishes packing up her marbles and lets the bag fall beside her with a
plop
. “But he’s probably just frustrated because he cares for you and maybe he feels helpless when he doesn’t know everything that is happening.”
“Well, he’ll have to get used to it. He can’t always know every little thing that I’m going through. I have some things that I’d rather keep to myself. Just as I’m sure you both have your own secrets that you wouldn’t want to blab about. You know how it can be in the Institution; once something gets out, every Seer on every floor knows it within the day. That’s why I trust you two. I
know
you wouldn’t go yapping behind my back.” I hold up one of my favorite marbles, a mother-of-pearl one with ivory swirls in the middle. It’s rare, made of stone and not of glass, and I seldom play it for fear that someone else will win it. “With my Visions lately, it’s impossible for me to tell you guys everything. I wish I could, really, I do.”
Connie pats my shoulder. “We understand, Bea.”
“But Gabe doesn’t.” My words are pouty, too much so.
“He will, though. Just let him calm down, and I’m sure he’ll come around. Everyone always comes around!” Mae squeaks in her too-happy way, then leans over and gives me a hug, arms wrapped around my neck. “It’ll be fine. I think it would take more than this for him not to like you anymore.”
Connie smirks and ducks her head to catch my attention. “Like? I think it’s much more than ‘like’ by now.”
I blush. I’m not going to get into this conversation, so I quickly put an end to it before it turns into anything more. “I guess we should go back to our rooms and get ready for the next Training Games. We’re going to get that Rachelle one way or another, and I could use some rest before we do.”
The other two follow me out of the Recreation Room and down the long, dim hallways with the occasional flickering light. The whole way back to my bunk I wonder if I’m making the right choice in leaving Gabe to run away without chasing him. He’s so confusing, I just don’t know what to think anymore.
Then again, I hardly know what to think about most things these days.
Chapter Seven
The Institution is eerily quiet. I decide to walk the halls. Swinging my legs over the side of my bunk, my bare feet press flat against the black, laminate floor. Everything about the Institution is cold. My chest tightens, as if something is about to happen. I feel it squeezing around my heart like two hands desperately trying to hold on. Even the smell doesn’t quite seem right. It is stale, not the purified air that is normally blown through the vents. It reminds me of the odor of a freezer–the flat scent of coldness.
My door slides open and the hall is dark. A few fluorescent lights flicker on and off down the long corridor. No one is monitoring the halls like they should be. Everything seems dead.
I continue down the hall, careful not to make any noise as I walk. The lights flicker and dim to an even dingier contrast as I make my way to wherever it is I am being pulled. With each step, my feet slowly press into the ground, then peel off it, heel to toe. I don’t know where I am going but I do know I have to get there, and soon.
Suddenly, I am in the Meeting Room, a vast area created to hold the mass of Seers who live in the Institution. We usually gather here for assemblies and ceremonies. The room is large with black catwalks along the perimeter, hitched onto the walls. At the front, a large stage remains empty, with the podium ominously in the center. It is as if someone should be standing there, as the room feels full, like everyone has already gathered to the meeting, ready to listen to the speaker on deck. When I take a few more steps into the room, I notice that all of the Seers are indeed here.
But they are all dead.
Piles of stacked bodies litter the floor and all of their faces look horrified, frozen in an expression of absolute fear. Their vacant eyes are open, trained on me.
Why are they looking at me? Watching me? I feel guilty and scared all at once, as if I did something to cause this.
It is then I See a dense, looming fog encircling the Meeting Room, as if protecting, or maybe claiming, the hundreds of bodies. A tendril of the blackness stretches out toward me and the tightness in my chest returns. This time, though, the hands that squeeze my heart clutch harder, and I wonder if hearts can pop.
I have no choice but to run, because that’s what my body tells me to do. I scramble for the doors, but they don’t automatically slide open when I get close, as they normally do. I am trapped, and the arm of fog is getting closer. When I close my eyes to try and will myself out of the situation, I See the eyes of the dead, staring at me in contempt. Is this how I will die too? What did I do wrong?
…
The Keeper types on her holopad as I relay the last of my Vision. Just like every other time, she does not look happy. When I get to the end of my story, she looks up, as if expecting more. “And?”
“That is all, My Keeper. It stopped there.”
“You do not know if it caught you?”
“No.” I think it is for the better that I don’t know if it did or didn’t. I don’t want to know, actually. I don’t want to picture myself thrown together with the other, stiff corpses. A chill crawls up my spine. “I don’t.”
It doesn’t occur to me until now that Gabe and the others were probably in those piles of bodies. I also realize that Gabe has not come to see me as he usually does after I have a Vision. Maybe this time, he just didn’t know I had one. Usually as soon as the Keeper comes down my hall, the gossip starts about what Vision I might have had now. And as soon as Gabe gets the gossip, he’s here. But not this time, and I desperately want him to be.
The Keeper stares at me in suspicion. “So it reached out for you, but it did not catch you?”
“I don’t know if it did or not, My Keeper. The Vision ended there.”
“And the corpses…you said they were all looking at you?”
“Yes, and they all looked scared. Petrified would probably be a better word for it, since their faces were all stuck like that. Mouths opened, eyes wide. Pale.”
“People who are no longer living are usually pale, Seer Beatrice.” The Keeper deadpans, not bothering to look up from her holopad. “Do you have any idea why your Visions have suddenly changed? Suddenly, they have become more…” She struggles to find a word for it. “Inconsistent. Unfinished.”
“I feel like they are warnings, My Keeper. Just like how I saw the Dreamcatchers coming to the City, now I am seeing this. Something will happen here. I don’t know what…but I know something will happen.”
The Keeper’s eyes find mine. “What you’re saying is very serious, Seer Beatrice.”
“I know, My Keeper.”
Her gaze shifts as she types, her brows slanted downward in concern. “We will have to up the security…and the training. Whatever this threat is, we must be prepared to defend against it. I’ll send out word to the City’s Watch and the news circuit and hopefully the Citizens will…”
“There weren’t any Citizens, My Keeper. Just Seers. Hundreds of pairs of eyes. Looking at me, as if…” And that is when it hits me. “As if I should have warned them.”
“And you have.” The Keeper closes her datapad and stares back at me. “You better hurry to lunch, then. We are finished here.” She says this more like a mother to a child, and it takes me back. I’ve never heard her speak in such a way before. In fact, I’d thought she was wholly incapable of it.
“Thank you.”
She continues to watch me, her eyes searching my face in suspicion. That unsettling tightness in my chest starts to return. The maternal slip of the Keeper disappears. With a turn on her heel, she leaves.
I look at the clock. I have ten minutes to get to the cafeteria and get my lunch before a new day of training begins. My stomach grumbles, urging me to get going, despite the fact that I have no desire to eat. Not after that Vision.
After scrambling into my jumpsuit, I throw my hair up into a messy ponytail and check myself in the mirror. My eyes still glow, surrounded by the tattoo of the black and grey wings that marks me as a full Seer. I brush a few strands of night-black hair out of my face, then start out of my room at a jog in hopes of reaching the cafeteria in time.
When I get there, the line for food has died down. I rush through with my tray, collecting whatever cold sandwich and vegetables they throw on my plate, then book it to our usual table. Brandon, Connie, Mae and Gabe are deep in discussion about the upcoming Training Games, their trays mostly empty. I plop down next to Gabe, breathless.
“I heard Team C beat out Team D, and that they are going to face Team B now. Do you think they’ll win?” Mae idly pushes some peas across her plate with her fork.
“Nah. With how Team B is doing? I mean,
we
couldn’t even beat them. What makes you think Team C could?” Brandon replies, but looks at me when I join them. “You’re late.”
“She had a Vision.” Connie notices the luminescence of my violet eyes, pointing at my face. She leans forward, elbows on the table, and whispers, “What was it about?” And then, to cap off her conversation with Brandon, “Team B didn’t beat us. Rachelle did. There’s a difference.”
“Don’t bother asking about her Vision. She won’t tell you,” Gabe snipes from across the table without bothering to look up.
I narrow my eyes, but direct my response to Connie. I won’t rise to Gabe’s childish and snarky remarks, but he’s obviously still sore about our discussion the other day. “It was new. Everyone in the Institution was dead. There were piles of bodies everywhere, and they were all looking at me. All those eyes. On me. It was…eerie.” Now Gabe looks up. I meet his gaze and continue. “A black smoke or fog surrounded them, and it tried to reach out and get me.”
“Did it?” Mae is drawn to the conversation like a moth to light.
I shrug. “Don’t know. The Vision ended.” My stomach reminds me to actually eat the food in front of me, so I bite into my sandwich while the others all lapse into silence, thinking about the Vision.
“Were we dead too?” Gabe strikes at the heart of the matter. With Gabe, it was either now or never.
I speak with my mouth half full. “I assume so. Everyone was dead. Everyone but me. But if you are asking if I saw you guys specifically, no, I didn’t.” Swallowing, I look to the others. “I don’t know what it could mean, but the Keeper said we will be going on high alert. She said we have to prepare.”
“Prepare for what?” Brandon pushes his tray away.
“Not sure. But whatever it is, it can’t be good.” I manage to get another bite in before the buzzer sounds. Lunch is over. I stand up with a groan. “I didn’t even get to finish.” I decide to bring the sandwich with me, chomping into it as we walk along.
As the group of us approaches the trash cans to dump and stack our trays, I see Rachelle heading in our direction. Ever since her little stunt in the arena, she’s been cockier and looks down at everyone, as if we are beneath her. Other Seers part the way for her, some even whisper behind her back. When she gets to where I am, she positions herself between me and the trash cans.
The thing about Rachelle is, as much as you try to hate her, she has a natural charm that consumes her being. It’s annoying. From her pretty blonde hair, delicate features and perfect stature, most find themselves drawn to her. Most everyone but me.
“What do you want, Rachelle?”
“I want to let you know that I’m not done with you yet.”
“And?” I’m not impressed.
“That’s all!” she squeaks merrily, turns, and leaves.
“She’s so
strange.
” Mae dumps everything off her tray and into the trash cans. “Who cares if she’s not done with you yet? Who does she think she is anyway?”
Who
does
she think she is? I don’t know. She’s threatened by me though, in much the same way as the Keeper, I’ve noticed.
“Let’s go before we are late for training.” I change the subject, stacking my tray with the others. My stomach still protests for food, but in the clamor of the cafeteria, no one can hear.
Just like nobody can hear the rush of questions left over from my Vision that swirl together inside my mind.
…
Gabe and I meet up after training to go to history class together. I immediately feel better when he’s by me, and as we walk to class, I sometimes let my hand brush against his and pretend it’s a mistake. At some point, he grabs my hand and holds it, entwining my fingers with his, and we walk this way until we get to our destination, shielded by the crowds of students heading to the same class we are. Maybe he isn’t mad at me anymore. Or at least, it seems that way. Reluctantly, I let go of Gabe and we blend into the sea of other Seers.
This is one of the last courses we have to take for the year, alongside our survival course. The classroom is packed with other Seers our age, including Brandon and Connie who are already seated up front. Gabe chooses a couple of seats a row behind them so we can sit in a group. When he sits, he nudges the back of Connie’s chair with his foot and grins.
“Hey Gabe, Bea. Ready for tonight’s lecture?” Connie asks.
“Yes, actually. With everything that’s going on, I’d like to know a bit more about the lead-up.” I am excited about tonight. Though we’ve been taught about the emergence of the Seers and Dreamcatchers before, today we’re going to go a bit more in depth about our creation. Until this point, we’ve always been told that we’re born with a “gift” and that was the end to the conversation, but not the end of the actual explanation. There’s more that we don’t know, more that we’ll find out tonight.
The Instructor enters the room, wrapped in his robe with the black satin sash that marks his station as a teacher. His name is Instructor Daniel and he’s not that much older than we are. He most likely chose to become a teacher after his Seer training, since we all get to pick an occupation when the Keeper thinks we are ready to leave our lessons. Recently, he replaced an Instructor who passed away from old age over the summer. Most of us enjoy his classes because he’s the young, cool teacher who lets us go on and on about certain topics, even if it means he won’t ever reach the end of his lesson.
“If we can all settle down, I’d like to get this class started as soon as possible.” Daniel steps behind a long desk with a black top and starts to unpack his books from a hemp satchel slung around his shoulder. The books are all bound in leather and are rare to find these days. Most books are kept on our digipads, as paper is pretty scarce and inefficient.
I scoot my desk closer to Gabe’s and smile, and of course, when he smiles back, it’s handsome and perfect. It makes my ability to actually concentrate on the class a little bit harder.
With a flick of a switch, the lights in the classroom dim, and the projector warms up to a bright glow. On the screen, the words “History of the Seer” spin in circles around a central axis, rotating endlessly. Daniel stands in the light of the projection, and his head contorts the words on the screen. “Welcome to history class. Tonight is one of your most important lessons. It is a confidential class, one that requires you to sign a statement promising that what you hear will not be repeated outside of the classroom. It will be assumed that others either share the same information you do, or they do not. Nothing here is repeated.” Daniel’s gaze slides over the other students in the room. There are about twenty of us in total, and when I turn to look around, everyone is wearing the same, grave expression. No one told us we’d have to sign a waiver today, and the gravity of this lesson hadn’t seemed so heavy until now.
On our digipads, a screen with the contract flickers to life, and the line where we are supposed to sign our name pulsates, waiting for us to put the pen to the screen. Daniel waits as well, and one-by-one we pick up our styluses and scribble our names on the screen.
I stare down at my name and bite on my lower lip. “Did you know we had to do this?” I whisper the words to Gabe, glancing sideways at him as he finishes signing his name too.
“Nope, but I guess we don’t really have a choice, do we? I don’t know about you, Bea—” Gabe puts his stylus down and looks up at me. “But I want to pass this class and never have to take another one again. Don’t you?”