Defiant: A Young Adult Dystopian Novel (Designed Book 2)
Defiant: Chapter 26

Elias eyes widened, and he made a choking noise followed by a sound that was a laugh and cough combined.

“What are you talking about? What harem?”

“I saw them,” I hissed. “Girls peeking out of the tent. If they’re not sick, then it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why else you’d want to hide them from me and why the other girls here won’t tell me what’s going on. Is that one of the perks of being the leader? Is that why you don’t usually compete in the Trials? Why you thought the other guys would resent you competing? You already have a tent full of women at your beck and call.”

Elias laughed even harder, doubling over and seeming to struggle for breath. After a few minutes, he calmed a bit, though his face was still red and his eyes glistened with unspent tears.

“I assure you,” he said between bouts of lingering giggles. “I do not have a harem. Nor do I want one. One girl is enough for me.”

He pulled me toward him, pressing the side of my face gently to his chest and kissing the top of my head.

“More than enough.”

I leaned back and studied him for long moments. “Is that true?”

“Every word. I promise you, every girl here at the Haven is spoken for—and no one has more than one. Not even me.”

With a wink, he added, “I’m flattered you think I could handle the workload, though.”

As appealing as he was when he gave me that you-can’t-stay-mad-at-me-just-try-it look, I was frustrated.

“So what’s in the tent?” I pleaded. “What could be so top secret? More stolen military tech? Are you planning a revolution or something?”

Elias just smiled and shook his head, still clearly entertained by my wrong guesses.

“You could guess all day and have zero chance of getting it right. Just have a little patience. When the time is right, I’ll tell you all about it. In fact, I’ll take you there myself.”

“Fine. Don’t tell me. But until you can be completely honest with me, the time won’t be right for me to commit to being your mate.”

I gave him a so-there look. “After all, what’s the point of all this if we don’t trust each other?”

Elias’ face hardened in a flash. “Are you saying you’ll choose another champion?”

“What? No,” I said, and I meant it. “But I might not stay at the Haven permanently.”

His expression grew dark. “Where would you go? Back to your base to be recycled along with your friends there?”

“Elias!” I couldn’t believe how insensitive he was sometimes. Though I was starting to feel safe here at the Haven, it grieved me that my friends back at the base were not safe, and he knew it.

“Sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No—you shouldn’t have. You know how guilty I feel over leaving them behind.”

I had told him about Luz falling and getting hurt, about our plan to dose the water with the crushed green pills and free the minds of those left behind. Cut off from all communication here, I had no idea whether the plan had worked.

“I feel guilty for even being happy when I don’t know if they’re still there or whether they escaped, if they’re safe,” I said. “I wish there was something I could do to help them. Are you sure we can’t take a team to Florian and get them out? Or at least see if they’re still there?”

Now that I’d put it into words, my heart burned with longing. My tone ratcheted up along with my yearning.

“It would be the greatest gift ever — all I’d ever want or need. You’d never have to bring me another flower as long as we live. I wouldn’t care about going out and seeing the wonders of the world if I had Luz and the rest of our friends here.”

Elias was clearly conflicted. I could see in his eyes that he wanted to please me, to give me what I wanted.

“I wish I could help. I’m sorry… but no,” he said.

“Why? Just explain why it’s so impossible.” Elias had experience breaking into a base and guiding other Gebbies to freedom. If he’d done it before, he could do it again.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking off into the distance before returning his gaze to me. His tone was flat, almost unrecognizable.

“We used to go out in small numbers to the bases to try to help the other Gebbies escape. Not anymore.”

Elias looked away again. His expression tightened, growing haunted.

“At first, Gideon wasn’t too concerned about a few missing Gebbies here and there,” he said. “That’s how the number at the Haven got so large. But now it’s way too dangerous. Especially after what you told me—that he’s got people actively hunting us. I can’t save the world. I have a responsibility to my people—no one else.”

Wow. I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. The way he’d said it sounded so… final.

Which made me realize I’d been holding out hope all this time of someday going back for my friends. Though I agreed it was a long shot, I couldn’t just give up on them and forget they ever existed.

How could he live with it?

“So as long as you’re fine and the people you care about are taken care of, it doesn’t matter to you what happens to the rest?” I snapped.

I was reminded of the time Elias and his crew had marched us to the Haven in the middle of the night—when he’d said helping my friends back at the base didn’t “interest” him.

“You sound a lot like someone else I know—Apollo Gideon,” I said. “He actually thinks the Calamity was a good thing because it alleviated some of the overcrowding issues and food shortages. He’s another big proponent of looking out for yourself and letting the rest of the world suffer. Maybe you two should get together and chat sometime.”

Justifiably insulted and angry that I’d compared him to that monster, Elias turned away from me and stalked down the path away from the waterfall.

Since I had no wish to get lost on the way home, I followed. He didn’t turn around and look at me. He didn’t speak for miles.

As we forged ahead in silence, my heart began to sink. Name calling was never a good idea, and obviously Elias was nowhere near Apollo Gideon’s league when it came to villainy. I’d been wrong to lump them together.

I picked up my pace, nearly jogging to pull even with Elias’s long stride.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I don’t think that. You’re not like Gideon.”

After a minute, he finally looked at me. “Look, I understand why you’d think I’m heartless. But I’m not. The thing is… I really do understand how you feel… about leaving your friends behind.”

“Because you left Kristine behind?” I guessed.

He shook his head. “I didn’t leave her. She died during our escape attempt.”

“Oh.” I literally didn’t know what else to say. It was horrible. I didn’t have to speak, because Elias went on.

“It was my fault. The whole thing was my idea, but I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I was just a kid. It’s a miracle so many of us got out of there alive.”

Though we hadn’t touched in the last half hour, I reached out and took his hand. He laced his fingers through mine.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “How did it happen?”

“We dug a tunnel under the fence in a remote part of our base. It took several weeks, and it was messy, muddy work. Our area of Louisiana had a high water table, flooding issues, you know?”

I nodded, remembering geography lessons about the coastal state.

“I’d managed to convince Kristine to stop taking her meds. Once she was herself again, she agreed to leave the base with me and my friends. We looked at the weather forecast, picked a date. But then we had to move it up last minute because we found out they were about to bus half of us over to another base—that’s what they said anyway.”

“You don’t think it was true?” I asked.

“Who knows? Did your base ever get any kids bussed in?”

“Not that I know of. I think I went to school with the same group of kids from kindergarten on. But then again, I don’t know. I mean, Dr. Rex could have just programmed our nanobots to make us think that.”

Elias nodded. “Right. The night before we were scheduled to be shipped off, we decided to just go for it. If we were moved somewhere new—or ended up separated—we didn’t know what was going to happen. It felt like our last chance to escape.”

Birds sang in the trees around us, and the sun was still shining, but in my mind, I was there on that dark Louisiana night with Elias, a fifteen-year-old boy trying desperately to lead his friends to safety under an ominous ticking clock.

“Almost everything went according to plan,” he said, shaking his head side to side. “We were able to snag all the tents and equipment we planned to take. Unfortunately, it was raining that night.”

“Oh… your tunnel.”

“Yeah. At first I worried it would be washed out by the time we even got to it. But it wasn’t. I checked it out to make sure it was safe and then started sending kids through. Zee went first and waited just on the other side, counting people as they made it to the other side. Kristine and I were pulling up the rear.”

He stopped, suddenly breathing hard. Tears welled up in his eyes as he continued the story.

“It was pounding rain. I heard Zee yelling… and then the tunnel collapsed. Kristine and I were both trapped… buried alive. Our hands were still joined after the cave-in, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t get to her.”

“Oh Elias,” I breathed. My hand slipped from his and covered my heart.

“Our friends dug us out. Obviously, I made it. She didn’t.”

His voice choked. “I don’t know why. I guess I had a small air pocket or something, or maybe I was able to hold my breath for a few more minutes than she could. Maybe she inhaled the dirt when she screamed. I don’t know.”

He shook his head over and over again. “I’ve relived it a million times in my nightmares, and I still don’t know.”

Flinging myself at Elias, I wrapped my arms around his waist and stopped him from walking, forcing him to endure my fierce embrace.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” I just kept repeating it over and over.

Now it all made sense. The nightmares. The screams. The way he held onto me at night like a lifeline.

Slowly his arms came around me to return the hug. We stood like that in the path for a long time. Eventually his breathing evened out, and Elias spoke.

“Even after that, I was willing to try again, to go back and help more of our friends escape. It worked a few times. But the last time they were ready for us.”

I lifted my head from his chest and looked up at him, tears still streaming down my face.

“The last rescue mission failed?”

He nodded, his expression grim. “Not only did we fail to get anyone else out, but I lost two of the guys on the team. Soldiers fired on us, and they were killed.”

“That wasn’t your fault—”

“It was all my fault. They were my guys—my responsibility. It was my idea… just like the escape that killed my sister. Anyway, that was the end of me trying to be a hero. We didn’t run any more missions after that.”

Now I fully understood why he refused to go back for my friends. “I get it,” I told him. “And I don’t want you to risk any of your friends’ lives. I know they’d follow you, and you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you led them into danger again. I won’t pretend I know what it’s like to lose a sister, but I can relate to the feelings of guilt. That’s how I feel about what happened to Luz—and about the others I left behind.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said immediately. “It’s Gideon’s.”

After a minute of hesitation, I went ahead and asked the question spinning around my mind.

“If that’s what you think when you hear about my situation… why do you blame yourself for what happened in yours? Why do you refuse to cut yourself any slack or blame anyone but yourself? What happened to your friends—and your sister—was Gideon’s fault, too.”

He didn’t answer me.

We walked a little in silence before Elias reached over and enveloped my hand inside his much larger, much warmer one.

“I do trust you,” he said. “I didn’t at first. But you should know… I’ve never told anyone the things I just told you about what happened to Kristine that day. About what it was like being trapped in that tunnel, knowing I was breathing my last breath and wasn’t going to live long enough to save her. I didn’t want to burden them with it.”

The expression on his face was tortured.

“Thank you for trusting me.” I said. “Why did you decide to tell me?”

“Well, first of all, you asked, and you don’t take no for an answer very well.”

He huffed a desperate sounding laugh devoid of all humor.

“But mostly… because I’ve been kind of alone for a long time. I mean, there were people around all the time, but when you keep the worst stuff to yourself, it keeps you walled off. It’s lonely.”

Elias glanced over at me, wearing the ghost of a smile. “And you’re strong. I know you can take it because you were forged in the same fire I was. We really are two of a kind, Miri.”

I hadn’t seen any butterflies in the park since our arrival here, but there was a whole field of them taking flight in my belly.

“I think so, too,” I admitted. “I never would have thought it when I first met you, but you… get me—like no one ever has.”

My unspoken thought was Not Even Heath.

Elias must have read my mind because there was a spark of new life in his eyes.

“You get me, too. That is something I’ve never been able to say before. To anyone.”

He leaned down and kissed me. When he pulled back, he said, “You know what? I think it’s time.”

“Time for what?”

“To take you to the tent.”

“The tent? Really?” Unable to contain my excitement, I hopped a little on my toes.

Elias nodded. “But I should warn you—what you’ll see in there is going to shock you, maybe even frighten you. You’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“How do you know?” I asked. “Maybe I have. I did experience downtown Atlanta— I’m pretty sure I’ve seen everything now.”

He laughed. “Not this. Trust me.”

I realized I did trust him. Completely. It was a good feeling.

When we got back to the Haven, Elias led me to the trunk of the tree where the forbidden tent was located all on its own, apart from the rest of the community.

He called for a rope to be dropped, and we rose into the tree, above the stealth shield cloth until the mysterious tent was in view. We climbed the ladders and crossed higher and higher platforms until we stood just outside it.

The butterflies in my mid-section were now dancing, almost frenzied. The last secret between Elias and me was about to be erased, the last mystery of the Haven solved.

Elias seemed a little nervous, too. He took my hands and turned me to face him, his expression deadly serious.

“Are you sure you want to go in? If I show you what’s inside the tent, then you’re really one of us. You can’t leave me.”

“I have no desire to leave you, Elias—unless you really do have a harem in there.”

He laughed out loud, looking relieved. “No worries on that account.”

“Then don’t worry about me leaving. I want to stay here at the Haven. With you.”

“Okay then. Get ready for the biggest surprise of your life.”