Darkness Falls (6 page)

All the calmness drains out of me. Without thinking, I reach out, snatch the back of the Highers robe, and throw him against the wall. Everyone in the hall slams to an abrupt stop, fears swarming the air like a wind storm.

“I think you’re forgetting who you’re dealing with,” Gabrielle grits through his teeth.  “Maybe you need to be reminded.”

“Not now, Kayla,” Monarch whispers. “Not yet.”

My hand trembles and I blink back the water in my eyes. Then two Watchers seize me by the arms and pull me back. I try to wiggle free, but they tighten their hold. I never take my eyes off Gabrielle as they haul me away, down the hall. The Colony members scurry to the side, fearing for my death, but no one tries to help me.

The Watchers take me to a section of The Colony I’ve never been in before, one that weaves down, deep underground, where the sounds of traveling footsteps and voices can’t be heard. Water dribbles off the rotten ceiling, staining the brick floor brown. The lights blink in and out of consciousness.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask the taller Watcher.

His breath through his mask is my only answer. These two are afraid of nothing, boots trooping as the continue lugging me. The end of our journey is a single door, bright red, like blood. I’ve seen this door before, in my head, and somehow I know whatever’s on the other side of that door is potent. Because so much fear and chaos leaks from it, it screams inside my body.

I shut my eyes, knowing what I do next will either save me or be the end of me.  I let my weight fall slack, dragging their arms toward the ground. One of them stumbles and clips their boot on an uneven part of the ground. I quickly shift my leg around and kick his out from under him.  He releases my arms as he buckles to the ground.

The other constricts his hold on me, but I move fast, my hand dashing to his belt and robbing him of his Taser gun. I zap him right in the hip. His body goes rigid and he falls back, hitting the ground hard.

The first, scurries to his feet and takes me by the hair. I move the Taser for his neck, nicking his skin and his arms stiffens, but he doesn’t fall. I try again, this time pressing it hard into his chest. When he drops, he pulls me down by the hair with him. I have to pry his taut fingers off just to get free.

The air stinks of burnt flesh and I take off. But something pulls me back.  I need to know what’s behind that door. I pat the Watchers’ pockets, looking for a key. When I don’t find one, I decide to kick in the door. I raise my leg back, ready to kick, when the feeling slams me in the chest. Fear. Is this what my own fear feels like?

Someone lets out a scream and I swear the door starts to bleed. But when I blink my eyes, it’s just a door.

Still, I back away, leaving it far behind as I run away, keeping my head down until I make it to my room. I put on my black sweatshirt and pull the hood over my head.  Then I pack my knife and Monarch’s pocket watch into the pocket. There’s already something inside: Bernard’s necklace. I leave it there and duck out into the hall, hoping no one notices me, the girl who just assaulted a Higher.

I head for the infirmary. Taggart is the only other person, besides Monarch, that might know what’s going on. After all, he was the one in the Hospital when Gabrielle paid Monarch a visit.

“Taggart!” I barge into the dark room, with walls made of ashy stone lined with rows and rows of black stoves, some lit with fires. I touch the handle of the closest one, the metal hot against my skin. I start to open it.

“Kayla?”

I whirl, fist out, prepared to fight, but it’s only Taggart.

The inhumanly tall man, with a slight hunch, looks confused to see me. “What are you doing in here?” He’s glancing around fearfully, looking at all the stoves, fearing I might find out what’s in them. “You shouldn’t be here. Not today.”

I put down my fists. “Have you seen Monarch?”

His expression tells me what I already suspected: Monarch’s gone. “I’m so sorry, Kayla.”

I stare at the stoves, at the flames inside that kill all evidence of life.  I wonder if Monarch’s in one of them.

“Kayla,” Taggart starts, but I turn for the door.

 He snags me by the arm, his hands shaking, and everything he fears spills out of him. He’s afraid of death, of what he’s done, and that he won’t be able to fix it. “You can’t go out there,” he says. “You were supposed to stay in the hospital, but I guess you’ll just have to stay here for a little while.”

I turn my head to look at him.  “Why?”

“Because,” he struggles. “It’s what Monarch wanted—needed you to do today. You need to stay out of the Highers watch for a little while.”

“It’s too late for that,” I mutter. “I did something to Gabrielle.”

His large face twists with confusion. “What do you mean? What did you do?

I try to pull my arm loose, but his bulky fingers refuse to let go. “You can’t go out there right now. It’s too dangerous—you’re too unstable.”

The next few minutes of my life are unclear, not because my memories leave me again, but because all I can see is red. But somehow Taggart, a man four times my size, is lying unconscious on the floor.

My hands are as steady as a rock as I leave Taggart and the infirmary behind. I leave everything behind in that room that smells of death. I walk the hall, marching for the Highers quarters—marching for Gabrielle. I don’t know what I’ll do when I get there, but I’m eager to find out.

I never do, though, get to find out because the sirens go off.

It’s time for the Gathering

People flurry down the hall like robots, rushing for the Corridor. I barely remember the last Gathering. All I have are foggy images of Bellators getting taken. I asked Monarch about it once, why I couldn’t remember it. All he would say is that it’s a part of life and that when people leave sometimes their memories leave with them. 

Watchers, dressed in their black jumpsuits and army boots, herd the Colony members like sheep.  I keep my head down, trying to blend in, as I weave my way to the Corridor, knocking into bodies.

“Kayla.” Someone touches my arm and I whirl, ready to attack. But it’s just Nina.

Her eyes widen at the sight of my expression. “Kayla, what’s wrong? You look …” She peeks around, terrified that a Watcher will overhear us.

Slipping my arm from her hand, I leave her dumbfounded and shove my way through the bodies of people. Inside the tight space of the Corridor, bodies are smashed together in the area that surrounds the oval stage. The air is dank and smells of fear, just the way the Highers like it. I stand at the back, trying to stay inconspicuous. People are talking, not about the Gathering, but about the Bellator who attack a Higher in the hall.

“She’s probably dead by now,” a stubby, rounded lady with a bob cut whispers to her husband, who nods in agreement.

I tap my foot, waiting for it to all be over.

“She deserves to die,” someone else says.

I turn to see who it is, but a soft voice shivers against my ear.
“Not yet.”

I’ve heard this voice before. But glancing over my shoulder, all I see are the vaguely familiar faces of the Colony members and no one who stands out. But I sense someone watching me. I start to push my way through, but the Highers enter rows and rows of white in a sea of black. I stand back, lowering my head, but watch them through hooded eyes. They’re almost identical, only the tiniest variations make it so they’re not the same person, slightly paler eyes, shorter hair, sharper cheekbones.

For a split second, I think I recognize Monarch walking amongst them, only he’s dressed in a robe and looks just like them. But I blink and the image is gone.

They file onto the stage, standing shortest to tallest. Gabrielle’s in the middle, carrying a black box. He advances to the center of the stage and drops the black box on the floor.

“Welcome to the Gathering, everyone.” His cold voice slithers the room. “It’s a pleasure for you to all come.”

Like we have a choice.

Gabrielle keeps talking, but I’m already measuring my options. Two Watchers guard the exit, their hands suspended above their Tasers, itching to use them. And even more line the back of the room. There’s a group of them standing in the doorway, whispering through their masks. Then, suddenly, all of their eyes land on me.

My times up. Either it’s now or never. I know I don’t stand a chance. I’ll be caught in seconds and probably executed on the spot. But I don’t care.  Through the throng of people, I catch Tristan’s eye.

Bye
, I mouth.

His eyebrows knit together as I rip my gaze away. I glide my knife out of my pocket, not afraid, but not hollow. In fact, I’m more alive than I’ve been.

My eyes shoot open.  It’s dark and grogginess plasters my mind and my body. I’m covered in plastic. It’s all over me, touching my skin, smothering me. Where am I? I run my finger along the plastic until I feel the teeth of a zipper.  I realize right away what this is. A body bag. I’m trapped in a God damn body bag.

Tracing the track, I find the zipper handle and battle to unzip it. But I realize it’s going nowhere and I give up and tear at the plastic, digging my fingernails into it until I break through to the outside. I don’t know what to expect, but I’m prepared for the worse. It’s something Monarch taught me. Always expect the worst, that way you’ll be prepared for anything.

Monarch
. Thinking of him makes me choke.

I decide not to think about him for a while, until I can get myself together. I collect myself and slash the rest of the way through the body bag. The first things I see are enormous, jagged, and fiery red rocks. The land is rolling hills of sand and the sky is dark with clouds and smoke, but less hazy than in the city, like the sun can almost break free.

“Where am I?”  I mumble, searching for the city. The last thing I can remember is moving to kill Gabrielle.

“Help!” Someone screams.

I spin. Just a few feet in front of me, lying in the sand, is another body bag. And it’s moving. I reach for my knife, surprised to find it’s still in my pocket. I squat down next to the body bag and give it a gentle tap. “Who’s in there?”

A pause. “Kayla?”

“Yeah?”

“Kayla! Kayla!” He yells. “It’s Bernard.”

 “I thought you were dead.” I pause, scratching my forehead with the silver handle of my knife. “How do I know it’s really you?”

“Kayla, just let me out of here!” he shouts and then kicks furiously, the body bag bulging up and down.

Keeping my knife in my hand, I unzip the bag. Bernard bursts through the opening, gasping for air, his brown hair sticking up in all kinds of directions. 

“Oh my God.  Oh my God.”  He runs his hand through his hair, which only makes it stick up worse. “What the hell happened?”

“I have no idea,” I mumble, searching the desert for more body bags that might be hiding nearby. I swear I can sense someone around. I hike over the shallow hill, my boots filling with sand. The wind is blowing and the air is rough against my cheeks and hair. I spot it, at the foot of the hill, another black body bag. Stealthily, I drop down the hill.

“Where are you going?” Bernard shouts after me.