Chapter 16

As we pull apart, I run my fingertips over my lips and revel in the lingering sensation. Jax puts an arm around me, tipping my face to meet his glowing eyes, and I watch as they turn from a chocolate-brown color to gold. That only happens during our tests at the Institution.

My nerves are on fire, and my lungs start to burn with every breath. I blink and try to focus.

"I just saw what Proxy did to us." He gives me his hand, and I run my fingers over his rough skin until I feel a bump in his palm. It vibrates beneath my touch and prickles my arm, stopping just shy of my neck.

"You've never felt that before, right?" he asks.

I nod, still not sure where he's going with this. His eyes gradually return to their regular color, and he plants his trembling hands on the ground and leans back. Jax points upwards. I follow the direction of his finger, feeling a lump forming in my throat. Beyond the Sanctuary, the Sun peeks through the clouds a little more now, but the dome's artificial sky now glitches between day and night. The nuclear winter doesn't seem that harsh anymore. While the snow still falls, it's not like an eternal blizzard.

There's heat for the first time in three years—not just artificial warmth from a lamp or a glorified invention from the apocalypse. This is what natural heat feels like. The Sun's rays dance across my skin, its scorching tendrils wrapping around my body.

"That device contains our memories of that day, right before we started training at the Institution. I think you should see what yours has to say first." Jax takes his hand in mine, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. "Don't fight it."

A sharp ache starts in my temple. It travels down to my collarbone and settles there, and a strained hiss scratches my throat. "Doesn't it hurt? You're acting like it's nothing."

He relaxes slightly, the faintest of smiles tugging at his lips. "But you kissed it better."

Before I can retort, a vision of white consumes me. The memory hits hard, and I open my eyes to a speckled ceiling and whitewashed walls.

My body moved like clockwork.

Kicking away the stuffy sheets, I rolled over and injected myself with a dose of Wanderlust. It had been less than a week since my parents were shot, so Proxy gave me the drug to dull my thoughts and feelings. That's why I felt like I was floating in the middle of nowhere. Neither miserable nor happy. Just emptiness and an endless void waiting for me.

With a sigh, I changed into my uniform and headed outside. The cold air bit my cheeks, slipping into the thin fabric of my clothes. Quickly, I arranged my hair and adjusted my top until my neck was almost entirely covered. Doctors rushed past me in their radiation suits, and no one noticed as I headed to the staff elevator. Making a sharp turn past the clinic, I scanned a stolen employee pass and jammed the button to the seventh floor.

"Leaving so soon?"

I didn't dare to breathe. Slowly, I turned around, bracing myself to be dragged away for another round of shock therapy. Jax stood behind me, grinning from ear to ear. Scowling, I elbowed him lightly in the stomach. He raised his hands in mock surrender, and a playful smirk lit up his features.

"You shouldn't stay out here too long," I said as we stepped inside the lift.

I closed my eyes and savored the silence. For once, we weren't crammed in here with the people at the Institution, so I basked in stolen moments like these. The others always talked about home and how they forgo sleep to make every minute count. For some reason, home didn't exist anymore. A dull ache started in my chest.

Time can be taken away just as quickly as how it's given.

In the deep reaches of my mind, Mother's voice was strained and unrecognizable.

The lift jerked to a stop, dragging me away from my spiraling thoughts. As I stepped through the open doors, Jax pulled me back briefly. "Remember, no anesthesia."

I gave him a quick nod, and the doors closed. A brief, prickling sensation shot up my leg as a robotic injector impaled my skin. My legs buckled, and I hit the floor. White-coated researchers rushed in and hauled me onto the chair. As the paralysis drug pulsed through my body, my breathing steadied. Still, I could feel my heart pelting against my ribcage, whipping and lashing like a delirious prisoner.

A woman emerged from the sterile room on the other side, all bundled up in a baggy radiation suit. I heard the faint humming of a machine starting up. Sweat trickled from my face and streaked down my cheeks like tears, the muggy air suffocating my pores. I felt it too. Reaching through the armholes in the wrapping, she wiped my scar with alcohol, and the surgical knife sliced clean through my skin. The metal burned the incision.

I gritted my teeth and stopped my cry.

She carefully inserted the monitoring chip near my collarbone. I bit my lip to stifle a scream, and soon, the copper taste of blood gathered in my mouth. Wincing, I shifted my gaze down to the open wound. The black chip was still blinking as my healing skin closed around the raw wound.

My arms and legs were still strapped to the seat, and I could move them slightly better as the paralysis wore off. They felt numb, like someone had been sitting on them for hours. Instead, I focused on the door since it gave me an excuse to look away from the people in white coats. The scrutiny in their eyes irked me.

Once again, the woman enters the room. In this memory, I could recognize Cleo almost instantly.

"What's this for?" My voice came out thin and raspy.

"You're living in the Sanctuary now, but not everyone believes we're safe. The war has made us paranoid, and some people have tried breaking out of this place. In short, they've lost their minds." Cleo walked to the window, gesturing to the people in the distance. They pounded their fists against the glass, crying, wailing, and begging to be let outside. "We can't risk them breaking the shield, so everyone stays inside at all costs."

Cleo shrugged. "You have no choice. The device carries a failsafe, meaning that your body will only be adapted to the Sanctuary's environment. If you try breaking the shield, the chip will paralyze you."

While Cleo read my chart, her expression hardened, and she furrowed her brows. She grabbed a syringe from the table and filled it with the vile silver liquid. "When you wake up, you won't remember the chip's existence, and you can't feel it either. It's only under certain conditions that the chip will be activated enough for you to feel it under your skin."

I watched as she approached, her clicking heels making my head pound and throb. A silver drop landed on my skin with a shock of icy coldness. After a sharp prick on my arm, everything started dimming by a few notches. I was still conscious and too aware of the people around me. The syringe was hastily pulled from my arm and landed on the metal tray with a clatter.

Cleo didn't give me the full dose, but that day was the first time I couldn't recognize Sierra.

Is that a side effect of whatever she gave me?

My vision clouds over, and the rawness of the memory is replaced with Jax's worried face. His hand is still twined with mine. I sit up quickly and wipe the cold sweat away. "Jax, why did the chip suddenly activate?"

"This is a guess, but I think the real Sun's heat triggers it."

Mateo emerges from the tent, padding across the field while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Was that there yesterday?" He points at the next section's wall. I stare at its gray silhouette and Eorius as it shines down at it, clearly showing which way to go, but that can wait. Rushing to Mateo's side, I make sure that he's healed and that there's no sign of a brewing infection. Except for his tender nose and swollen arm, he's almost as good as new. With a grunt, he gestures for us to follow him.

He walks to the back of the cabin and pushes the stacks of straw aside, revealing a concealed wooden door. Jax steps inside first, and I soon follow with Mateo in tow.

A single lamp hangs from the ceiling, slightly dim from the lack of exo energy. The air is stuffy from the busted vent, engulfing us with the smell of body odor and sweat. Grime covers the windows. The weak floorboards creak with every step, and the wood protests beneath our weight.

Cardboard boxes are stacked to the ceiling, some so torn and soggy that they spill packets of Proxy's food rations everywhere. Jax stares at the white sachets bursting through the damaged containers. "How did you get all these?"

"We stole them just before the Trials started," Mateo says half-heartedly. Sifting through everything on the floor, he picks out a few of them. "Don't take too many. One should last us for a few days if we're careful."

After stuffing all that I can into my rucksack, Mateo rips a packet open. He gulps down the artificial nutrition, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Better to fatten up now. The next area doesn't have many animals."

"How far out have you gone?" I ask.

"Everywhere. I don't think we've missed a place except for a poison forest. But I'm not going near one of those things anytime soon." Mateo quickly packs up and leads us past another door. Voices float down the hallway, and I catch a glimpse of people in the other rooms. They're all gathered around tables, pointing to the sprawling maps and murmuring among themselves.

"Before we go, there's someone else you should meet." He walks to the far end of the corridor, hurrying down the stairs to the basement level, where we come face to face with a set of black double doors. They extend from ground to ceiling. Red lights filter through the door windows, bringing a furtive movement of shadows. They're the hooded figures from the forest and the same ones I saw at the Institution. This time, they lower their masks and pull down their hoods.

Lesions mar their faces, going down their collarbones and disappearing into their cloaks. Taking a tentative step forward, I squint at the scar on their necks. They bear Proxy's eagle insignia and a few digits below the wretched design. Everyone has the same numbers—the date when the Nuclear War began. I realized I'd been staring at the false immunes for too long. I duck my head and look away, but not before noting that their skin bears the mark of diverging arrows.

One of them steps forward. "We're the Outsiders, and we're all part of what Mateo is doing here. At least, while we still can."

"But you attacked us," Jax says.

I'm tempted to ask her more questions, but she holds up a hand. "I've seen you. That trap you walked into was your fault. That was meant for the Proxy workers because that's how their patrol route goes daily."

"Then why are you coming after me?" Jax asks.

She drags someone out from behind the double doors. A man's sagging form rests against her, and she throws him to the ground. He's dressed in the exact same coat as her. Surprisingly, his face is clean, and there isn't a smudge of grease or dirt on his features. Dragging her fingers over the man's cloak, the woman tears it away to reveal his whole physique. He's too plump, his body well filled out like how we could've been if we actually had food. The employment pass on the hem of his shirt says it all. He's a Proxy worker.

"He pretended to be one of us, gained our trust, and worked his way to the top," she gives Jax the side-eye, "he's the one who attacked you, right?"

"How did—"

"We're stretched too thin now because of people like him. Proxy killed too many of us, slit my men's throats, and left the knives there. They've even set up camps everywhere. They're hunting us down because they think we're still crazy." She bends down and slits the man's throat.

"Don't, Scipio," Mateo snaps, turning to face Jax and me. Scipio holds his gaze for a few seconds. Flinching, he stumbles back slightly, and his eyes change from gray to crimson. His expression grows distant like he's in a trance.

Scipio clears her throat and begins speaking, "We lived near the Candorian settlement just down south. We were our society for a while, made laws, and formed our government. It wasn't a pretty system, but we got the job done. Of course, that didn't last long, especially since Candor started expanding its Colonies to include the whole country. That's how they found out about us. We're labeled illegal settlers and can't ever go back there."

"That's why you're here again," I say, finishing her thoughts.

"Proxy is more stubborn than you think. We're asking them if we can come back and live with everyone else. We'll need support for that to happen, whatever it takes."

I know what she's asking, but I keep silent.

Sighing, Scipio runs a hand through her hair. "Isn't that what you want too? Justice for your parents and friends that Proxy killed?"

Her eyes flash crimson, and I feel the first intrusion of her mind. She maneuvers effortlessly through my brain, sifting through memories that consume my vision at dizzying speeds. "Remember that this is what Proxy did to you," she hisses.

A scream burns my throat as Scipio forces a memory into my consciousness. When I blink away the tears, Proxy's firing squad raises their guns at the group of false immunes. My parents are snarling and growling, their skin mangled, and lips ripped from end to end from biting into their flesh. My father sticks a long claw into his abdomen and slices it open—a burst of crimson seeps into the ivory tundra.

There's a flash of light, followed by a chorus of screams and shrieks. Bullets pierce the false immunes' heads, and my parents are the last to hit the ground. Somewhere in the background, Jax grunts. Scipio is showing him the same thing. Her voice is sharp now, with a knife-like edge to it. "Just in case you didn't catch it, let's go again."

Sobs wreck my body, and I'm trembling beneath her grip on my mind, begging for her to let me go. The scene rewinds to the start. Over and over, I watch my parents die and come back to life after getting shot. The cycle continues, and I relive their deaths like a fever dream. I'm drowning. I'm suffocating. It's like having someone plunge my face into the water, a hand forcing my head to keep still while my lungs shut down.

"You don't understand who you should be fighting against," Scipio says as she finally releases her grasp on me. I wait for everything to come back into focus again. My legs were sore from kneeling while I was telling her to stop.

Wiping my damp cheeks, I stand up and step toward her. "Proxy is more powerful than you think, Scipio. We can't just march in there and take whatever we want," I rasp. "You're just thinking about yourselves, but what about us? We've got loved ones and people who actually depend on us. If things go wrong, we'll lose everything and be stateless, just like you. If you do this, you'd better make sure we're not signing up for a death sentence."

"Cowards," she spits.

"Why do you think everyone's keeping their head down, serving a government that killed our families and ruined our lives? We're tired from the war and lost so much that there's nothing to fight for. All we can do is obey and survive. I suggest you plan a plan first, and then we'll talk."

Scipio waves a dismissive hand at me and signals to Mateo. "Get out."