Elite -
Chapter Twenty-One
Scarlett rivers snaked their way from Rex’s body and joined together in a pool beneath him in the grass. Sylvie watched in silent horror as the light faded from his angry eyes. She had no idea if it took only moments or stretched out into hours before all that was this Rebel boy was gone, leaving only an empty shell behind. Sylvie marveled at how, like a switch, she went from seeing a person in front of her to a thing.
A body.
“Leave it,” Davis said as his soldiers moved to lift Rex from the ground. The boy was no longer a person to him either—if he ever had been. Tearing her gaze away from the tragedy before her, Sylvie focused new eyes on the man that stood beside her. She had always seen Davis as soft, easy to manipulate, and she realized then that she had not been the only one.
As he slung his gun on his back, detached and unaffected by what it had done, Sylvie saw someone else’s plan at work through him. His orders, his actions, were not his, but Sylvie was not ready to replace out just who’s they were. Biting back outrage and fear, she followed Davis and the others up the waiting ramp and boarded the craft. And even though she didn’t look back, Sylvie knew she would never forget the last sliver of innocence she left there in the grass.
Once inside the SolarCraft, Sylvie was met with the familiar glow of artificial light. It winked along the floorboards directing her wordlessly inside. Without question she followed the illuminated path along with Davis’s instruction until she found herself nestled inside a tiny bunk.
The walls were the same cool, clean, gray slate as the outside and every inch of the small space was faceted with as many modern comforts as it would allow. The old Sylvie would have marveled at the lush conveniences that Davis eagerly pointed out, but now her excitement was feigned and for his benefit only.
“And this is the NutriScanner,” Sylvie heard Davis say, pointing to a small chute cut into the wall. “It determines individual nutritional need and then delivers a perfectly balances meal within minutes. Isn’t that fascinating?”
“It is!” Sylvie replied with all the false brightness she could manage. But even as her lips spoke enthusiasm, inside the same questions played over and over again on a never-ending loop. Why did you kill him? How could you do something like that? The intense, internal cries fought so hard to become words that Sylvie did not trust herself to utter more than just a few syllables at a time.
“Are you alright?” Davis asked, finally picking up on her detached state. His brow knitted together half in concern and the rest in an expression that verged on suspicion.
“I’m fine,” Sylvie said, rushing to explain away his unspoken doubt. “I’m just tired. They had me doing a lot here and it is the middle of the night.” She smiled weakly and ran her hand drowsily across her face, hoping that would be the end of Davis’s inquiry.
Unfortunately it was not.
“What did they make you do?” he asked, his question catching Sylvie by surprise.
“Wh-what?” she asked, faltering.
“I said,” Davis reiterated. “What did they make you do? I would have assumed you would have been locked up awaiting ransom, but there’s really no telling what these Rebels are thinking anymore. Their acts are erratic at best. Did you see or hear anything that we should know?”
The plans to take down the Hub floated up from the back of Sylvie’s mind, but she shooed them away as quickly as they had appeared. It was only one mission objective, but after what she had witnessed, nothing would make her give it up now. “Oh no,” Sylvie said, waving away his interest with the flick of a wrist. “I wasn’t allowed anywhere important. It was strictly grunt work for me.” Sylvie circled the bed and once on the other side, she slid down onto the soft covers giving Davis her back. She didn’t trust time to look into her eyes anymore than she trusted herself to keep them placid and detached.
“That must have been terrible for you,” Davis said, sensing Sylvie’s inner turmoil, but misplacing its blame. Sylvie almost thanked him out loud for the diversion.
“Yes,” she said, softly. “Just terrible.”
“Well, ”Davis said, suddenly chipper. “You are back now and soon we can forget any of this ever happened.”
Sylvie nodded and turned to give Davis a sad smile. She knew, though, there was no way she would ever forget. Not Ellena. Not Jack. And especially not the way Davis had taken a life without so much as a pause. All of it was seared into her like a brand, but none of it burned as badly as what she learned about her father.
Soon she would be standing in front of him and Sylvie hoped she was able to pretend as well as he had the last five years. Because if what Jack said was true, Reidan Price had put on the performance of a lifetime. His is own flesh and blood should be able to do the same.
From far away Sylvie heard the start of a low hum and with it, the slight tremor of the walls around her. The lights in the room flickered for just a moment before they returned stronger and brighter expelling even the smallest shadow from the room. Sylvie looked to Davis in question, but she already knew her answer.
It was time to go.
“They will need me in the control room,” Davis said, taking a step toward the cabin door. “But I’ll be back to get you once we arrive.”
“Ok,” Sylvie replied, giving him a weak smile over her shoulder. It was the most she could muster and thankfully Davis was too busy to assume anything but fatigue was the cause of her apathy.
Giving her a little wave, Davis opened the cabin door to go, but stopped short in the frame. “I almost forgot,” he said, turning slightly back toward her. “Someone will be by shortly to reactivate your OPTIC. I know you must have missed having it.”
Davis didn’t wait for a reply and instead slipped out of the room, closing the door silently behind him. Turning back around, Sylvie caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror hanging on the opposite wall. Her un-illuminated eyes started back at her solemn and knowing. Rising from the bed, Sylvie crossed the small space to look at herself more closely in the reflective glass. She wanted to remember the way she looked now, before the emerald wink of technology regained its hold on her.
It was strange how living without her OPTIC had so quickly become normal. And while she still believed in its benefits, the sinister uses Jules and Jack had described had cast her opinion in doubt. In fact, doubt was the only thing she was sure of anymore.
Reaching out, Sylvie activated the sensor for the sink below the telling mirror. It sprang to life, providing her with a waterfall of fresh, clean water. Scooping the warm stream into her hands, she splashed it onto her face hoping to wash away the disquiet she felt. But when she lifted her eyes to the mirror again, she knew her hope had been in vain.
Streaks of red trickled down her face staining her cheeks before splattering like little targets in the porcelain sink below. Sylvie’s eyes went wide as she searched for the source of her injury. Her inspection, though, was fruitless. None of the marks she had inflicted on herself had been deep enough to bleed, so that only left one possible source.
Rex.
Staring down at her hands, Sylvie spied for the first time the spray of blood that peppered a path up her arms to blanket across her chest. With a cry, Sylvie tore the ruined clothes from her body, tossing them into a dejected heap on the floor. Frenzied, she clawed at herself with soap and water until her skin took on the same hue she was trying to remove.
She was so intent on washing away the grisly scene that Sylvie did not notice the sobs that had started to tear through her body. A torrent of tears married salt and soap in the water that now ran clear through Sylvie’s hands. She continued to wash, though, until all her tears had run dry and the water had long since grown cold.
Numbly, she abandoned the cool spray for a towel hanging idly nearby and as she wiped the droplets from her skin, she hoped that somehow she could wipe away memories as well. The image of blood splatter and death, though, were not so easily washed away.
They remained vivid and intact as Sylvie rummaged through the small wardrobe built into the wall for something to wear. Someone had obviously stocked the small closet with her clothes from home, but Sylvie gathered no comfort from the familiar pieces. Dejected, she settled on a soft tee shirt and a pair of nondescript denim pants. Sylvie hurried into them and had just started running a brush through her tangled hair when she heard a faint knock on her cabin door.
“Come in,” Sylvie said, making quick work of her remaining tresses. The door opened and through it came a tiny, redheaded woman. She flashed Sylvie a smile of perfectly white teeth, the expression lighting up her heart shaped face.
“Hello Sylvie,” she said in a voice of spun sugar. She was young, maybe a year or two older than Sylvie herself, but she entered the room with the purpose of someone much older. “My name is Grace,” she said matter-of-factly. “And I am going to be reactivating your OPTIC for you.” Reaching into the pocket of her tailored lab coat, Grace withdrew the same device Sylvie had stowed away before she left the clinic.
Instinctively, Sylvie’s eyes darted to the heap of clothing she had left discarded on the floor. She had been so distraught over the blood on them that she had completely forgotten about the potential trump card she had hidden inside. As Sylvie made the mental note to grab it once she was alone, Grace waved its twin in front of Sylvie’s eye.
“Just keep your eyes forward while I get the scanner set up,” she said.
“How do you work that thing?” Sylvie asked with false nonchalance. It occurred to her that having the device was fruitless if she didn’t know how to use it, so Sylvie gave the direct approach her best shot. In her experience, everyone liked to talk about themselves so she figured their work couldn’t be that different.
“Oh it’s simple,” Grace said, cheerfully. “You turn it on here.” She motioned to a small green button on the side of the smooth cylindrical column. “And this little screen gives you the functions to choose from. See?” Grace turned the OPTIC scanner around so Sylvie could read the tiny command scroll across the display in a blur of blue. Activate. “Now all I have to do is run the scanner across your OPTIC and—“ Grace moved the bright blue light across Sylvie’s retina. “Wala!”
A cool chill ran down the length of Sylvie’s spine and radiated out through her body to the edges of her fingertips. She lifted her eyes again to the same mirror, but this time another face peered back. The emerald hue of her OPTIC gleamed back, strong and sure, but the strength of it only seemed to weaken Sylvie inside.
“Thank you,” she said absently and touched her cheek just below her illuminated eye. Almost as if at her touch, her field of vision sprang to life with everything she had missed while she was gone. Bianca’s name appeared in rapid succession, alerting Sylvie to the dozens of unread messages, each more frantic than the last. It wasn’t until she saw Bianca’s name, though, that it occurred to Sylvie that she hadn’t even thought about her best friend since the day she had woken up so far away from home.
“You’ve obviously been missed,” Grace said, chuckling at Sylvie’s stunned expression as the plethora of unseen correspondence continued to alert her to their presence.
Sylvie smiled back, but said nothing. She did not want to prolong the girl’s stay any more than necessary. Sylvie had always been able to put on a performance when her situation required it, but when Reidan Price’s name flashed before her eyes, she knew pretending was out of the question. “Is that it?” Sylvie asked, hoping Grace would get the hint that she wanted to be alone.
Thankfully she did.
“Yes,” she said, giving Sylvie a sympathetic smile. Pressing the same green button on the OPTIC scanner, Grace tucked the powered down device back into the pocket of her coat. “You’re ready to go home now.” But as the girl slipped silently out the door. Sylvie knew she would be ready for what came next.
Alone again, she crossed the small room and disentangled her own scanner from where it hid amongst her discarded clothes. Sylvie hugged it tightly to her chest before lifting her shirt and tucking it into the waistband of her pants. She had no sooner covered it up again when she felt a slight rumble beneath her feet. Sylvie didn’t need Davis or anyone else to tell her what it meant.
She was home.
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