Heightened: The Federation Series (12 page)

BOOK: Heightened: The Federation Series
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“Yeah,” he says.

“I just wanted you to know that I try,” I stammer. “I always try, but I’m not fast enough…strong enough, but it’s not because I don’t try.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You,” I whisper.

“What about me?”

“I run,” I say, “but you’re better than me, smarter.”

“You’re not making any sense,” he says.

“Just once,” I say, “let me die, don’t save me.”

“You need to go home,” he says, “I’ll be right back.”

I don’t move. The bar is solid and if I press my face to it; I feel stable.

“How are you feeling,” Mandy sits beside me, “Quinn says we need to take you home.”

I don’t respond. I can’t even open my eyes, without the entire room twisting and shaking. Mandy’s words vibrate through my head.

“I think he’s right,” says Grace.

“Ladies, I hope your evening is all you expected it to be.” I look up and see a rough looking man. “My name is Marcus.”

“I’m Grace; this is Mandy,” Grace’s voice is scratchy, “that is Emma.”

“Emma, what a beautiful name,” he’s talking to me. He grabs my hand. “Well, ladies I’ve come to reap my kindness.”

“Excuse me?” asks Grace.

“You’re not from around here,” he says, “I paid for your drinks, now you pay me for my kindness.”

“How much?” asks Mandy.

“Her,” he points to me.

“We can pay you,” says Grace. I can hear the panic in her voice.

“Sorry, I don’t negotiate.” He grabs my arm and pulls me up, another wave of nausea, floods over me. “When I’m finished with her, I’ll send her down and you can retrieve her from the bartender.”

“No, wait” Grace grabs, my other arm.

Marcus pushes her down and pulls me away.

I’m in trouble.

I look over my shoulder. Grace tries to come after me, but a mountain of a man steps in front of her. She looks at me.

I feel like I’m going to be sick. Every step sends a ripple across the contents of my stomach. I look into the crowd of the bar to where the guys are talking. Grace follows my stare; she nods and disappears into the crowd.

CHAPTER TWENTY
Emma

 

We head into a back hall. It’s dark and grimy. We walk by a door that leads into the kitchen area; the smell of fried food, mixed with stale alcohol, almost sends my stomach into an uncontrollable convulsion.

I gag and cover my mouth with my free hand. I’m trying to think, but my mind is still fuzzy. I look over my shoulder. Where are they?

I’m not paying attention to where I’m placing my feet, and I land in a puddle of something. I slip, but Marcus yanks me up.

“Ouch!” I push against him.

“Stop!” he jerks me.

I limp. I twisted my left ankle, and now it hurts. He doesn’t care; he just keeps pulling me along.

We come to a set of stairs. He starts down. I grab the rail.

“I can’t,” I say, “my ankle. I hurt it; I need to rest.”

“No,” he says, “there’s no time.”

“Please,” I beg.

He tightens his grip and drags me down the stairs. I lean heavily on him, trying to keep my weight on my right foot.

We go down two flights, and then we exit through an old rusty door. It makes a sharp, scraping noise, as it closes behind us. Two men meet us; they walk with us, down the hall. We enter a room, but they stay outside.

Marcus lets go of me. I back away. He takes off his jacket and places it over the back of a chair.

“My friends will look for me,” I say.

“They won’t find you,” he says, “and if they do; they won’t make it past the guards.”

“I’ll scream,” I say.

“Why would you want to do that?”

“I’m going to fight you,” I try to keep my voice calm. I don’t want to let him know how terrified I am. “I won’t go easy.”

“I don’t believe you. You didn’t put up much of a fight coming down here,” he says. He sits in the chair and crosses his legs.”

He’s right, I could have kicked and screamed, but I didn’t. Why? Maybe someplace deep inside, I wanted to be taken.

“I may be small,” I say, “but I am strong.”

“I hope so,” he says.

“You’re sick,” I snap.

He laughs, “Emma, the last thing I want is to bed you.”

“What?” I’m confused. “Then why am I here?”

“Because you have something that my boss wants,” he says, “and he’s willing to do anything to get it.”

“I don’t have anything,” I say.

“You’re wrong,” he says. “You have everything. We’ve been watching you for a while. I just can’t believe you were dumb enough to walk right into our club.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I back up until I bump into the bed.

“It has taken us years to figure out just how they were doing it,” he says. “The answer was so simple; we overlooked it.”

“Doing what?”

“You can’t trust anyone, “he says. “Especially, not those officers you were hanging out with tonight. You should be thanking me.”

“Why?”

“For saving you,” he says. “It wouldn’t be long before they figured out who you are.”

“Who am I?”

“You are the answer; we’ve all been waiting for, all these years,” he says.

“You have got to have the wrong person,” I say. I sit on the bed. My ankle is swollen, and my head is still spinning. “I’m nobody.”

“That’s what makes it such a brilliant plan,” he laughs. “You are nobody.”

“How am I your answer?” I collapse on the bed. It feels so comfy, and my head is spinning.

“I can’t talk about it,” he leans closer to me, “my boss will be coming soon, and he will answer all your questions.”

“What if I don’t cooperate?” I say. “What if my friends find me?”

“You don’t want that to happen,” he says. “He will not stop until he has what he needs, and he will make you cooperate.”

He turns and looks at the door. I peer over too. I don’t hear anything. He stands and backs towards me. I sit up.

“What…”

He motions for me to be silent.

I hear, what I think is a scuffle, from the other side of the door.

He turns and looks at me, “don’t trust anyone, not even my boss. You need to get out of the city, and back home.”

“I don’t understand,” I say.

“Listen,” he says. “If it comes down to death or giving up the information…you must choose death. Don’t let anyone get it, no one, understand?”

The door thrust open. The wooden frame splinters, and the door slams against the wall.

It’s Quinn.

Marcus looks at him, but he doesn’t even have time to raise his gun. He steps in front of me, and I think I hear him say, “I’m sorry” right before his blood splatters across my face.

I see the blood spread, soaking his back. He falls to his knees. I’m still sitting on the bed behind him. Quinn shoots again. This time he hits him in the head, blood splatters all over the room, covering me.

I just look at him with tears covering my face. My whole body is shaking. I try to wipe the blood off my face and arms, but all I do is smear it. I frantically rub my hands on the bed covering.

Marcus’ body slumps on the floor in front of me, and his last words echo in my mind.

“Don’t trust anyone…”

“Are you okay?” Quinn says. He is leaning over me. His hands are on my shoulders. I can smell him, but I don’t think about home. I’m too scared and confused. “Emma!”

“You killed him,” I choke. “He’s dead.”

“We have to go,” he says.

Max is standing behind him. He points his gun towards the door. “Calder!”

“I know,” he says, “give her a second.”

“No,” I whisper, “I can’t.”

“Come on,” he stands. His hand is extended, waiting for me to grab it.

“No,” I say.

“What do you mean?”

“You killed him,” I say.

“To save you,” he says.

“I need to go home,” I say.

“Then come on,” he grabs my hand and pulls me up.

Marcus’ blood makes my hand slippery. Quinn wipes his hand on his pants and then uses his sleeve to wipe the blood from my face.

I step around Marcus. His blood is spreading out around him, leaving a crimson pool. I’ve never seen a dead person before. I can’t stop thinking about his warning. His last thoughts were for my safety. Quinn killed him; he warned me to stay away from the officers. I know what the punishment is for not being compatible; it’s banishment. But Quinn is different; he’s mine. He wouldn’t harm me, would he?

              I hesitate. I have no idea what to do. I have so many questions, and Marcus’ boss has all the answers. Maybe he can tell me why I’m broken, and how to fix myself; so I can finally have a normal life.

“What now?” he looks at me with those eyes. My heart skips, for every question I have for Marcus’ boss; I have a thousand more questions for Quinn. But I decide to be cautious. Marcus and Pam had both warned me to be careful.

I allow him to pull me into his arms, and we leave. Max covers us. We meet Smith and the others down by the elevator.

“We can’t go back up into the bar,” Smith says. “We have to find a way to sneak her back without anyone seeing.”

“We can head into the Under,” Quinn says, “I have friends down here; they’ll keep us safe and lead us out through a more discrete way.”

We find our way out of the building, and out onto the old city streets. It’s eerie down here. It’s always dark, and the people are wary of strangers, especially three Federation Defense officers, and three Federation interns.

We walk for about ten minutes, before Max motions for us to stop. We’re all still, as we wait for him to direct us.

He backs up; he points his gun ahead of us. We all slip into an ally. Smith is first, then us girls, and then Quinn, followed by Max.

We round the back corner and step out into an open area. There are no buildings behind us, just darkness and what appears to be an old park.

“What’s…,” Grace starts.

“Shhh,” Max says. He motions towards the ally.

I hear the commotion from out in the street, and it’s getting louder. I can hear people running and shouting. Grace and Mandy are huddled together, between Smith and Max. I lean against the wall, trying to make myself as small, as possible. Quinn glances towards me, but he doesn’t come to me; he doesn’t offer to protect me.

One part of me wants to wrap myself around him, and the other part wants to run away from him, as far away as possible. My head starts to hurt. My headaches are becoming more frequent. At first they are a dull ache, but they always turn into a painful barrage of spasms and visions. Mostly, I see memories; my childhood, people, and places. But sometimes they are like my nightmares. I see places I’ve never been, and people I’ve never met.

I close my eyes. I concentrate on the brick wall behind me. It is cold and rough against my hands, and there is something protruding right into my lower back. I shift to my left.

I think about Quinn’s eyes. I picture him sitting by a lake. It's evening, and the light is getting low. He looks angry, and he’s not alone; there’s another man there with him. I recognize him, but I don’t immediately recall from where. I take a deep breath and ease into my thoughts. I concentrate. They aren’t friends.

The pain shoots from the top of my head all the way down my spine, sending an excruciating jolt into my hip. I buckle under the pain. Someone grabs me. All I can feel is a hot, motionless lump where my body should be.

I try to stand, but I can’t find my feet or hands. I can’t see, but I can hear my friends. They are talking about me; I hear my name. I call out to them, they don’t respond.

Something is touching my face. A tingling sensation has replaced the numbness. I try to breathe through my mouth, but I wheeze and gag.

I can see someone over me, I blink. It’s Quinn. His hand is over my mouth. I hear muffled screams” it’s me. I stop.

“Are you done?” Quinn releases his hand.

“Are you okay?” Grace is kneeling beside him. She shoots Quinn an annoyed look.

I shake my head. “What happened?”

“You collapsed and then started screaming,” Grace says.

“I don’t…” I stammer.

Grace puts her arms around me, “She shaking and cold.”

“We need to hurry,” says Max.

“Can you move?” Smith asks. “We can help; if you need.”

They help me up, and we continue through the park. We travel on what must have been a path. It’s overgrown, and there’s debris scattered everywhere. We pass an area with metal objects, twisted in a whimsical fashion. An eerie scraping and clanking sound comes from someplace in the darkness. We move along quickly.

We come to an area that is surrounded by trees, not beautiful, green giants. No, these trees are nothing more than tall, broken logs. Some are still attached to the ground; their branches snapped and splintered around their once mighty trunks. Others have given up and fallen, scattering shards of wood across the ground.

We step over branches and piles of debris. My ankle is throbbing. I bite down on my lips and grimace. I hold my breath and lift my legs over a rather large log. I swing my feet to the other side, being careful not to hit my ankle. I reach down with my feet to find a solid foothold, but a tangle of brittle branches is all I find. I step carefully, not depending too much on my hurt ankle. I try to be quick, but the pain is getting worse.

The others are waiting for me. I stumble over the branches and finally make it back to the path. We continue until we enter an open area. Max stops and listens for a moment. He motions us forward. I follow, but I am the last in line. Mandy is right in front of me.

We come to an enormous concrete and metal pillar. I stop to examine it. It’s bigger around than the entire circumference, including branches, of my apple trees, and it extends all the way up to the ceiling. I walk around it. I touch it, and then I stand back and look at it. I know that it is supporting the city above, but I wonder why the Federation decided to raise the new cities.

I look around for the others. They are gone. They must not have noticed that I stopped, and I didn’t think to tell them. I suddenly feel very exposed. The darkness seems to be closing in on me, and I turn to continue the path. I take a few steps and then look behind me. I have no idea where to go. When I was looking at the pillar, I lost track of my direction.

I can feel the panic rise from within me. My heart is pounding, and I can’t control my breathing. I need fresh air. The recycled air down here is thick and musty. I can’t move. I feel like the walls, and the ceiling are closing in on me.

A low scraping and clanking sound comes from the near distance. It is the same sound that I heard when we were walking earlier. I lift my face and close my eyes. I listen carefully. I hear the same noise.

It sounds like the swings at our playground at school when the wind blows. But there is no wind down here, and no children to play. And then I hear a snap and a rustle. The sound that I made when I was climbing over the log; someone is creeping up behind us.

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