Before I can even get my breath back, more people are crowding on top of me. My legs are tied together behind my back and to my arms. I have a moment to think that my limbs are going to be torn from my body when they lift me up and toss me onto the bed again.
They strap me to the bed again, this time facedown. A new voice speaks from the doorway. One I’d know anywhere.
Mother.
“What a mess. I told you to sedate her first.”
My mind goes blank and my body seems to lose its connection with my brain as I blink and stare at the scene in front of me.
I’m not lying on my stomach restrained to a bed. I’m standing. Blood trickles down my arms from the slashes across them. Two men lie in a heap on the floor at my feet. The only sign they’re still alive is the slight rise and fall of their chests.
The doctor stands only a few feet from me, another syringe in his hands. The nurse that talked to me just a few minutes ago is standing next to him, pulling jars of liquids from a cabinet.
Asher pushes past the two people in the doorway and we stare in shock and horror at each other. I don’t have to ask to know I’m the one that did this.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
It’s been a year to the day. I have to think that Eli’s not coming back. To be honest, I probably knew from the beginning that Mother wouldn’t let him get away with what he did, but even if my head knew it, my heart wouldn’t believe it until now.
—EXCERPT FROM LENORE ALLEN’S JOURNAL
Gavin
I’m not sure how to get in. I’m almost positive the guards won’t let me in without that stupid paper, so I’m working on coming up with another way. It takes me a moment to realize that the bridge across from me is only large enough for foot traffic. That means there’s another entrance. There has to be. How else do they get supplies in?
I wander around until I find the bigger entrance, and then I wait, hiding in the shadow of the concrete wall. Watching. Studying the patterns and duties of the guards at this gate.
After a few hours, I realize that they don’t even look inside the large supply wagons. If I can somehow sneak over to one, I can slip underneath it and hang on until it drives into the city.
Finally, a horse-drawn wagon comes rumbling up to the gates. One of the guards comes out and speaks with the driver. Seizing my chance, I sneak over to it, then slide underneath the wagon and wrap my ankles around part of the wagon’s frame and my arms around another part. It hurts to be stretched out like this, and my shoulder is screaming at me, but I can’t think of another way.
They have an eternity-long conversation that I try to block out, and my legs and arms start to cramp from the exertion of holding on to the undercarriage. Eventually, though, the wagon pulls through the gates and into the city.
When the wagon stops at a crossroads, I let go, dropping to the ground and rolling out to the side, before jumping up and strolling away as if I didn’t just drop out from underneath a supply wagon. After a few blocks, I stop and massage the knots in my arms and legs.
I may not know the exact layout of the city, but I remember listening to Asher talking about it when we were kids. I know about where Asher’s family lives. It’s just a matter of finding out exactly which house is the correct one. It’s not like I can just go up to the people and ask them if they know where the St. Jameses live. I’ll be reported for being an Outlander and arrested faster than I can blink.
But there’s no way I’m going to be able to find Evie without some kind of help. Maybe I should just take the chance and ask one of the police. I can prove that I’m supposed to be here. What harm could it do?
Then I shake my head. Nope. Bad idea. The people of Rushlake dislike outsiders almost as much as Elysium hates Surface Dwellers. Except they don’t go quite so far as death to punish people for “breaking” in. Still, I don’t feel like getting booted out. Even though when they find the St. Jameses, they’ll see I have a visa and it’ll be fine. Of course, that would depend on if Asher actually showed them the visa.
Maybe I could surreptitiously ask a few people, saying I’d come with the St. Jameses and went for a walk and got lost and need help finding my way back. I glance down to my filthy clothes. Nope. That’ll just send me back to talking with the police.
I’ll just have to take the chance and try asking a servant. They’re less likely to care that I’m an Outlander. But it’s not like I can just pick a house and ring the bell. I’ll have to wait until someone comes outside.
Even that proves to be difficult. When I get to the area where I know Asher’s house is, I manage to catch three servants on their way out of various houses, but only one even acknowledges I’m talking to him, and he just points down the street, which doesn’t help me. At all. Apparently even the servants think they’re better than Outlanders. Figures.
Evie
I don’t suppose it’s much of a surprise they decide not to let me go home. Considering what I did, I guess I should be glad they didn’t have me arrested. They still don’t know what caused it, despite all their fancy equipment. And they don’t know how I knocked out two grown men at least twice my size with my bare hands. So, now I’m stuck in yet another hospital room while they try to figure out how dangerous I am. While Asher talks with the doctor, trying to find out how long they’re going to keep me here, I let my eyelids drift closed. All the panic is making me exhausted.
After what feels like only a few minutes, Asher gently shakes me awake. When I blink my eyes open, his grandmother is there, watching me with a sad expression.
She takes the seat across from the bed, while Asher settles onto the chair to my left. I can see she’s bracing herself to tell me something. It’s quiet and I try not to fidget while I wait for her to speak. She seems lost in her thoughts and Asher and I exchange a look before he clears his throat. She startles and then her eyes focus on Asher.
She gives him a look of apology. “It’s always hard to know where to start, but as with everything it’s probably best to start with the beginning.” She moves her gaze to mine, then gives me a small smile. “You and I, my dear, have a lot more in common than you think.” She takes a deep breath and then looks into her lap. That’s when I notice her hands. She’s holding a small piece of shiny paper.
She gives Asher one more apologetic glance before handing it to me. I take it, dread curling in my stomach. Whatever this is, I don’t want to look, but I do. Then furrow my brow.
It’s just a picture of a group of six people smiling into the camera. They’re all wearing lab coats and smiles. There are six of them. Four men, a woman, and a girl about my age, maybe slightly older. All have blond hair. The four men are split, two on either side of the woman, who has her hands on the girl’s shoulders. Behind the group is what looks like the window from that creepy underground lab in the Outlands, or from the rooms in my hallucinations, only the water behind them is lit with lights and is dark blue—almost black. It’s only recognizable as water because of the colorful fish swimming in it.
It’s pretty, and … I feel like I know where it was taken. Like I’ve been there. The strangest part is that the two females and the youngest man look familiar. I’m sure I know them for some reason.
I look back up at her. “I don’t understand.”
“That’s me.” She points to the woman.