Awoken (The Lucidites Book 1) (10 page)

I
soar through the silver tunnels and take three consecutive turns. When I stop I see blackness. My eyes are open but everything’s dark. I close and open them repeatedly, wondering where I’ve landed. A minute later, light streams in from different places and I recognize the coils of the bed over my head. I’m in my bunk. The bracelet is gone.

With a sigh I roll out of bed and stumble off to the bathrooms to shower and wash my clothes. I realize I could throw on the scrubs they issued me and be done with it. But I’ve made it this long and soon I’ll be headed home and I’ll want my clothes with me.

Home? Where is that?

By the time my jeans are dry, most of the other kids are rousing from their travels. I wonder what other people chose as their most important object. Something tells me that most people didn’t forfeit at the last moment.

I’m combing my hair when the first set of girls comes into the bathroom jabbering about their night.

“I ran out of time, and picked up the first thing I could find,” one girl says, embarrassed. “It was this really pretty violin.”

“Oh, well, I know what you mean,” another girl chimes in. “I felt really rushed too. I pointed to the painting in the corner.” She laughs nervously.

“At least you two had time enough to do that,” one girl gripes, running a curling iron through her hair. “I had no time at all. By the time I got to my room the hourglass was empty. A bit unfair if you ask me.”

The last girl slumps into a mound of desolation. Then she finally admits, “I traveled and traveled, but never found the room.”

Everyone sighs with empathy, but their emotions are hollow.

My room didn’t have a violin or a painting. What did that mean?

I shrug this off and head down to the main hall. The buffet tables are piled high with an assortment of breakfast foods. I stop at the first table and load up on pineapple, oranges, berries, and melon. I then grab a couple pieces of toast from the next table and head to the back of the room. As I’m sipping a glass of orange juice, a girl from my group approaches my table eyeing the available seats.

“Can I sit with you?” she says, brushing some hair out of her face.

I don’t have the heart to tell her no. When I nod, she smiles and then waves to some of her buddies still up at the buffet. Before too long, every seat at my table is taken by someone from the third group. They exchange accounts from the various tasks the day before.

“What message did you receive for the first task?” Trent asks the boy next to him.

The boy shrugs. “I dunno. I made something up.”

Trent laughs. “Well, what did you make up?”

The boy turns red. “I said that I heard ‘Love thy neighbor.’”

Everyone at the table burst out laughing.

“That’s from the Bible,” Joseph says.

“Yeah, I knew that,” the boy says with a scowl. “It was the only thing I could think of.”

“Mine was awfully weird,” Joseph says in a consoling type way. “I’m sure I didn’t hear it right. It was something about ‘Things that build our dreams will in the end slip away.’”

“You definitely didn’t get that one right.” Samara laughs. “That’s a line from a Queen song. Close enough though.”

“Yeah,” Joseph says honestly. “I passed, but with only a seventy-six percent.”

“How’d you know that?” Trent turns to Samara accusingly.

She shrugs. “My mom. She’s a music fanatic. She says it’s the only thing that transports her.” The girl trails off on her last word, looking far away, like trying to remember something long forgotten.

“I wonder who those two were who got a hundred percent,” someone says to no one in particular.

I take a couple of bites of my toast and pretend to be engrossed in my fruit.

“It wasn’t me,” Samara admits. “My message was about how lies travel around the world before the truth can get dressed. I only squeaked by with sixty-five percent.”

“How about you, Roya?” Trent asks me.

I spit a piece of my pineapple out with a small cough. “Oh, I didn’t do so well.”

“Well, did you get a message? What was it?” Trent asks.

I stare at the middle of the table for a second trying to come up with a lie. When nothing comes to mind I say, “I heard something about hope being deferred will make you sick, but when dreams come true, there is happiness.” I hope I’ve screwed up the quote enough to sound believable.

“Yeah, I think that one’s from the Bible too,” Joseph says.

“What’s with you and the Bible, man?” Trent teases.

“Aw, man, I’m sorry. It’s just that’s how I was raised. I can’t help it. I understand it can become kinda annoying though.” He smiles and winks in my direction. “I apologize.”

Trent throws his napkin at Joseph. “I was raised on rap and Rasta music, but you don’t hear me apologizing for it.”

Joseph pretends to look offended and then breaks into a sideways smile. “Yeah, well, there’s time for that.”

We’re all laughing when Trey taps the microphone to get our attention.

“I hope I’ve given everyone the opportunity to eat. I’m about to announce the results.” There’s a look in Trey’s eyes I’ve never seen there before. He looks worried. “I know you’ve all come here willingly and offered your time and efforts to determine the right person to face Zhuang. I can’t begin to express the pride it gives me to be a part of a society like this. If we didn’t, if you weren’t here, then I’m afraid of where we’d be headed. Inside the walls of this Institute it’s easy to forget what Zhuang is doing to people. It’s easy for us to forget why we’re here.”

He looks across the room, making eye contact with several people before continuing. “I know this feels like a competition, but it isn’t a game. These tasks were designed to choose the best person to challenge Zhuang. The forecast states one person in this room, and only one, will be able to defeat this man.” He coughs. “He’s hardly a man, but that’s what I’ll call him, although parasite would be a better term.”

He pauses, staring into the crowd, lost. “I’m excited and nervous for us to progress to the next stage. The Day of the Duel is almost upon us and now that a challenger has been chosen this all feels surreal.”

Trey clears his throat. “Before I announce the results, I’d like to thank everyone. The Institute is forever in your debt. You’re welcome here any time, but as a Lucidite you already knew that, or at least you do now.”

Trey rubs his hands together and looks out past the crowd. “Now let’s get on with this. The person we’ve chosen to challenge Zhuang on the Day of the Duel is…” Trey takes a long inhale and says, “Misty Templeton.”

There’s a scream from two tables over. Then an eruption of clapping. The room is torn between talking and applauding as more stirring and movement occurs two tables over. My own table is ambivalent. We clap, but many of the people exchange worried looks. I pretend to smile. I don’t know who Misty Templeton is. I don’t really care. I want to be done with this whole thing and back in the cozy library at Bob and Steve’s. I promised myself that when I got back there I’d wake up early a few times a week and watch the sun rise over the lake. Also, I’d track down that cat and give him some proper attention.
They’ll take me in, just the way I’d take in that cat. They have to.

I’m off in my sunrise and cat fantasies and therefore really confused when Goat Girl jumps on stage shrieking like a hyena going into heat.
What’s she doing standing up there? Why is she hugging Trey? What have I missed?
Trey holds up her hand and says, “May I introduce you all to our challenger, Misty Templeton.” The girl with the sheet of thin brown hair smiles between fits of tears. She waves to her table as she jumps up and down hysterically. All I think about is the annoying comments I heard her make, the ones that made me want to barf. On the plus side, maybe she’ll make Zhuang barf too.

“As you all know,” Trey continues when the crowd has regained composure, “we have also chosen six alternates. These people will step in as challenger in case something happens to Misty.”

Goat Girl shakes her head in a deliberate manner.

“This group will also assist Misty and the Head Officials as we prepare to take Zhuang down,” Trey yells above the crowd’s hollers.

At this Misty pumps her fist in the air. I push my plate away instantly queasy.
Just a few more minutes of this and it will all be over
, I console myself.

“I’m about to read the names of the alternates. I’d like them to join Misty here on stage.”

Silence falls over the crowd.

“The very first alternate is…” Trey pauses, causing the entire room to go even more still. Then he shoots his turquoise eyes at me and says, “Roya Stark!”

“No!” I hear myself scream hoarsely. My reaction is immediate. I’m in shock and appalled and completely depressed all at once. My table of peers gawk at me, astonished. Their faces are ones of disbelief too. I manage a pained smile.

“I know, Roya,” Trey says with a smile. “It’s hard to believe, but you’re the first alternate. Please come up here when you’re ready.”

How about never?

I stare at the faces of the people around me for a lifetime. They stare back urging me to get up, to accept the challenge I’ve been elected for. I wince. I realize I was willing to be the challenger in the beginning, but that was before the lies. And now Goat Girl has been elected and is obviously excited about the challenge. Why waste my time when I’d rather be anywhere else. I stare around at the faces, searching for a way out. When I can’t find anyone to offer the consolation I’m looking for, I push the chair out behind me and sluggishly make my way to the stage.

“I know this is quite the shock, but welcome to the stage and thank you for accepting,” Trey says, taking my hand in both of his. His grasp is tight, his eyes earnest. I look away as politely as I can, but before I know it he’s pulled me in for an unexpected hug.

I’ve heard people remark about being “beside themselves.” Well, I’m in the next room. I never in a million years expected this and now I’m trying to figure out how to get out of it.

“I’ll go ahead and read the remaining alternates,” Trey says directly to the crowd. “Please join me up on stage when you hear your name. George Anders.” There’s a round of applause and then a guy about my age emerges from the crowd. He has wavy, blond hair and wide shoulders. He isn’t smiling when he walks on the stage. His expression is a mix of pain and frustration, about how I thought I appeared at that exact moment. As he takes the place next to me I can almost feel him vibrating. From the corner of my vision I notice he flinches slightly every so often, as if fighting something internally.

Trey pulls the microphone back to his mouth and reads the next four names much faster. Each of the alternates makes a startled noise when called and then rushes to the stage as everyone claps. When it’s all done I’m joined by, in addition to George, the Bible-loving Joseph, a girl from the first group named Whitney, and Samara and Trent. We stand on the stage for what seems like forever while everyone claps, hugs, takes pictures, and then files away. I’m almost free to go when Trey announces that we will be having our first meeting in just a few minutes. “Go and collect your items from your bunks and then you’ll meet me in room 222.”

I don’t have any items and therefore I’m ready for the meeting. I’m ready to be done with this whole thing.

Chapter Twelve

C
ompletely appalled, I start for room 222. I’m seated in a leather chair ten minutes before anyone arrives. Sadly, the first person who shows up isn’t someone I want to share my punctuality with. Ren. He sits opposite me, tapping a pen on a pad of paper.

“Terribly troublesome about you not making the top spot and all, right?” he says with an edge of indifference.

I shrug my shoulders, dispelling his indignation. “Honestly, I wish I hadn’t been picked at all.”

“Oh, is that the way it is?” he retorts with relief. “Good, ’cause I was wondering how long we were keeping up these pretenses.”

I give him that look. The one I give people when I wish they’d stop existing. I suddenly wish I had new superpowers, ones that made my looks work.

“I knew from the beginning you weren’t going to really be into this whole thing.” He smiles with satisfaction. “I told Trey you wouldn’t really comply, but he seemed to think you’d give it a go.”

If only glares could kill.

“I’m glad to see I was right,” he says, toying with his gold ring. “’Cause I was, wasn’t I?” Ren’s red hair catches the light overhead as he leans forward. “You’re here ’cause you’ve been chosen and all, but you don’t want to be. Your heart isn’t in it. Now that we’re being honest with each other I can say that’s what I always thought about you. You don’t have the gumption.”

He stares at me, smiling wickedly.

“Wow,” I say, devoid of emotion. “What gave it away? Oh, how about when I yelled ‘no’ in front of everyone when my name was called. You don’t have to be great at telepathy to know I don’t want to be here, so quit pretending you know something secret about me.”

Ren’s eyes scan mine momentarily. I suddenly feel naked. “You’re right, I’m not telepathic. But I’d venture to say I know more about you than you know about yourself.”

The urge to jump across the table and scratch Ren’s eyes out races through my head.
What’s this guy’s deal? Why’s he always antagonizing me?

Reeling myself back, I take a deep breath. “Why don’t you keep what you
think
you know to yourself, since I don’t give a damn.”

“Very well.” He doesn’t look the least bit disturbed by the conversation. “But just to correct you on a tiny, little thing.” He pinches his thumb and pointer finger together to indicate he’s holding some imaginary small item. “I’m not just speculating. These aren’t things I think. I
know
who you are.”

We’re glaring at each other when Trey walks in the room. “Well, I’m glad to see that you’ve had a change of heart,” Trey says matter-of-factly as he thumps a stack of folders onto the table in front of me. “I was worried about you during the announcements.”