Shatter Me (6 page)

I am nothing but novocaine. I am numb, a world of nothing, all feeling and emotion gone forever.

I am a whisper that never was.

Adam is a soldier.
Adam wants me to die.

I stare at him openly now, every sensation amputated, my pain a distant scream disconnected from my body. My feet move forward of their own accord; my lips remain shut because there will never be words for this moment.

Death would be a welcome release from these earthly joys I’ve known.

I don’t know how long I’ve been walking before another blow to my back cripples me. I blink against the brightness of light I haven’t seen in so long. My eyes begin to tear and I’m squinting against the fluorescent bulbs illuminating the large space. I can hardly see anything.

“Juliette Ferrars.” A voice detonates my name. There’s a heavy boot pressed into my back and I can’t lift my head to distinguish who’s speaking to me. “Weston, dim the lights and release her. I want to see her face.” The command is cool and strong like steel, dangerously calm, effortlessly powerful.

The brightness is reduced to a level I’m able to tolerate. The imprint of a boot is carved into my back but no longer settled on my skin. I lift my head and look up.

I’m immediately struck by his youth. He can’t be much older than me.

It’s obvious he’s in charge of something, though I have no idea what. His skin is flawless, unblemished, his jawline sharp and strong. His eyes are the palest shade of emerald I’ve ever seen.

He’s beautiful.

His crooked smile is calculated evil.

He’s sitting on what he imagines to be a throne but is nothing more than a chair at the front of an empty room. His suit is perfectly pressed, his blond hair expertly combed, his soldiers the ideal bodyguards.

I hate him.

“You’re so stubborn.” His green eyes are almost translucent. “You never want to cooperate. You wouldn’t even play nice with your cellmate.”

I flinch without intending to. The burn of betrayal blushes up my neck.

Green Eyes looks unexpectedly amused and I’m suddenly mortified. “Well isn’t that interesting.” He snaps his fingers. “Kent, would you step forward, please.”

My heart stops beating when Adam comes into view.
Kent. His name is Adam Kent.

I am aflame from head to toe. Adam flanks Green Eyes in an instant, but only offers a curt nod of his head as a salute. Perhaps the leader isn’t nearly as important as he thinks.

“Sir,” he says.

So many thoughts are tangling in my head I can’t untie the insanity knotting itself together. I should’ve known. I’d heard rumors of soldiers living among the public in secret, reporting to the authorities if things seemed suspicious. Every day people disappeared. No one ever came back.

Though I still can’t understand why Adam was sent to spy on me.

“It seems you made quite an impression on her.”

I squint closer at the man in the chair only to realize his suit has been adorned with tiny colored patches. Military mementos. His last name is etched into the lapel: Warner.

Adam says nothing. He doesn’t look in my direction. His body is erect, 6 feet of
gorgeous
lean muscle, his profile strong and steady. The same arms that held my body are now holsters for lethal weapons.

“You have nothing to say about that?” Warner glances at Adam only to tilt his head in my direction, his eyes dancing in the light, clearly entertained.

Adam clenches his jaw. “Sir.”

“Of course.” Warner is suddenly bored. “Why should I expect you to have something to say?”

“Are you going to kill me?” The words escape my lips before I have a chance to think them through and someone’s gun slams into my spine all over again. I fall to the floor with a broken whimper, wheezing into the filthy floor.

“That wasn’t necessary, Roland.” Warner’s voice is saturated with mock disappointment. “I suppose I’d be wondering the same thing if I were in her position.” A pause.

“Juliette?”

I manage to lift my head.

“I have a proposition for you.”

NINE

I’m not sure I’m hearing him correctly.

“You have something I want.” Warner is still staring at me.

“I don’t understand,” I tell him.

He takes a deep breath and stands up to pace the length of the room. Adam has not yet been dismissed. “You are kind of a pet project of mine.” Warner smiles to himself. “I’ve studied your records for a very long time.”

I can’t handle his pompous, self-satisfied strut. I want to break the grin off his face.

Warner stops walking. “I want you on my team.”

“What?” A broken whisper of surprise.

“We’re in the middle of a
war
,” he says a little impatiently. “Maybe you can put the pieces together.”

“I don’t—”

“I know your secret, Juliette. I know why you’re in here. Your entire life is documented in hospital records, complaints to authorities, messy lawsuits, public demands to have you locked up.” His pause gives me enough time to choke on the horror caught in my throat. “I’d been considering it for a long time, but I wanted to make sure you weren’t
actually
psychotic. Isolation wasn’t exactly a good indicator, though you did fend for yourself quite well.” He offers me a smile that says I should be grateful for his praise. “I sent Adam to stay with you as a final precaution. I wanted to make sure you weren’t volatile, that you were capable of basic human interaction and communication. I must say I’m quite pleased with the results.”

Someone is ripping my skin off.

“Adam, it seems, played his part a little too excellently. He is a fine soldier. One of the best, in fact.” Warner spares him a glance before smiling at me. “But don’t worry, he doesn’t know what you’re capable of. Not yet, anyway.”

I claw at the panic, I swallow the agony, I beg myself not to look in his direction but I fail
I fail I fail
. Adam meets my eyes in the same split second I meet his but he looks away so quickly I’m not sure if I imagined it.

I am a monster.

“I’m not as cruel as you think,” Warner continues, a musical lilt in his voice. “If you’re so fond of his company I can make this”—he gestures between myself and Adam— “a permanent assignment.”

“No,” I breathe.

Warner curves his lips into a careless grin. “Oh
yes
. But be careful, pretty girl. If you do something . . .
bad
. . . he’ll have to shoot you.”

There are wire cutters carving holes in my heart. Adam doesn’t react to anything Warner says.

He is doing a job.

I am a number, a mission, an easily replaceable object; I am not even a memory in his mind.

I am nothing.

I didn’t expect his betrayal to bury me so deep.

“If you accept my offer,” Warner interrupts my thoughts, “you will live like I do. You will be one of
us
, and not one of
them
. Your life will change forever.”

“And if I do not accept?” I ask, catching my voice before it cracks in fear.

Warner looks genuinely disappointed. His hands are clasped together in dismay. “You don’t really have a choice. If you stand by my side you will be rewarded.” He presses his lips together. “But if you choose to disobey? Well . . . I think you look rather lovely with all your body parts intact, don’t you?”

I’m breathing so hard my frame is shaking. “You want me to torture people for you?”

His face breaks into a brilliant smile. “That would be wonderful.”

The world is bleeding.

I don’t have time to form a response before he turns to Adam. “Show her what she’s missing, would you?”

Adam answers a beat too late. “Sir?”

“That is an order, soldier.” Warner’s eyes are trained on me, his lips twitching with suppressed amusement. “I’d like to break this one. She’s a little too feisty for her own good.”

“You can’t touch me,” I spit through clenched teeth.

“Wrong,” he singsongs. He tosses Adam a pair of black gloves. “You’re going to need these,” he says with a conspiratorial whisper.

“You’re a monster.” My voice is too even, my body filled with a sudden rage. “Why don’t you just
kill
me?”

“That, my dear, would be a waste.” He steps forward and I realize his hands are carefully sheathed in white leather gloves. He tips my chin up with one finger. “Besides, it’d be a shame to lose such a pretty face.”

I try to snap my neck away from him but the same steel-toed boot slams into my spine and Warner catches my face in his grip. I suppress a scream. “Don’t struggle, love. You’ll only make things more difficult for yourself.”

“I hope you rot in hell.”

Warner flexes his jaw. He holds up a hand to stop someone from shooting me, kicking me in the spleen, cracking my skull open, I have no idea. “You’re a fighter for the wrong team.” He stands up straight. “But we can change that. Adam,” he calls. “Don’t let her out of your sight. She’s your charge now.”

“Yes, sir.”

TEN

Adam puts on the gloves but he doesn’t touch me. “Let her up, Roland. I’ll take it from here.”

The boot disappears. I struggle to my feet and stare at nothing. I won’t think about the horror that awaits me. Someone kicks in the backs of my knees and I nearly stumble to the ground. “Get
going
,” a voice growls from behind. I look up and realize Adam is already walking away. I’m supposed to be following him.

Only once we’re back in the familiar blindness of the asylum hallways does he stop walking.

“Juliette.”
One soft word and my joints are made of air.

I don’t answer him.

“Take my hand,” he says.

“I will never,” I manage between broken bites of oxygen. “Not ever.”

A heavy sigh. I feel him shift in the darkness and soon his body is too close so disarmingly close to mine. His hand is on my lower back and he’s guiding me through the corridors toward an unknown destination. Every inch of my skin is blushing. I have to hold myself upright to keep from falling backward into his arms.

The distance we’re walking is much longer than I expected. When Adam finally speaks I suspect we’re close to the end. “We’re going to go outside,” he says near my ear. I have to ball my fists to control the thrills tripping my heart. I’m almost too distracted by the feel of his voice to understand the significance of what he’s saying. “I just thought you should know.”

An audible intake of breath is my only response. I haven’t been outside in almost a year. I’m painfully excited but I haven’t felt natural light on my skin in so long I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it. I have no choice.

The air hits me first.

Our atmosphere has little to boast of, but after so many months in a concrete corner even the wasted oxygen of our dying Earth tastes like heaven. I can’t inhale fast enough. I fill my lungs with the feeling; I step into the slight breeze and clutch a fistful of wind as it weaves its way through my fingers.

Bliss unlike anything I’ve ever known.

The air is crisp and cool. A refreshing bath of tangible nothing that stings my eyes and snaps at my skin. The sun is high today, blinding as it reflects the small patches of snow keeping the earth frozen. My eyes are pressed down by the weight of the bright light and I can’t see through more than two slits, but the warm rays wash over my body like a jacket fitted to my form, like the hug of something greater than a human. I could stand still in this moment forever. For one infinite second I feel free.

Adam’s touch shocks me back to reality. I nearly jump out of my skin and he catches my waist. I have to beg my bones to stop shaking. “Are you okay?” His eyes surprise me. They’re the same ones I remember, blue and bottomless like the deepest part of the ocean. His hands are gentle
so gentle
around me.

“I don’t want you to touch me,” I lie.

“You don’t have a choice.” He won’t look at me.

“I always have a choice.”

He runs a hand through his hair and swallows the nothing in his throat. “Follow me.”

We’re in a blank space, an empty acre filled with dead leaves and dying trees taking small sips from melted snow in the soil. The landscape has been ravaged by war and neglect and it’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in so long. The stomping soldiers stop to watch as Adam opens a car door for me.

It’s not a car. It’s a tank.

I stare at the massive metal body and attempt to climb my way up the side when Adam is suddenly behind me. He hoists me up by the waist and I gasp as he settles me into the seat.

Soon we’re driving in silence and I have no idea where we’re headed.

I’m staring out the window at everything.

I’m eating and drinking and absorbing every infinitesimal detail in the debris, in the skyline, in the abandoned homes and broken pieces of metal and glass sprinkled in the scenery. The world looks naked, stripped of vegetation and warmth. There are no street signs, no stop signs; there is no need for either. There is no public transportation. Everyone knows that cars are now manufactured by only one company and sold at a ridiculous rate.

Very few people are allowed a means of escape.

My parents
The general population has been distributed across what’s left of the country. Industrial buildings form the spine of the landscape: tall, rectangular metal boxes stuffed full of machinery. Machinery intended to strengthen the army, to strengthen The Reestablishment, to destroy mass quantities of human civilization.

Carbon/Tar/Steel

Gray/Black/Silver

Smoky colors smudged into the skyline, dripping into the slush that used to be snow. Trash is heaped in haphazard piles everywhere, patches of yellowed grass peeking out from under the devastation.

Traditional homes of our old world have been abandoned, windows shattered, roofs collapsing, red and green and blue paint scrubbed into muted shades to better match our bright future. Now I see the compounds carelessly constructed on the ravaged land and I begin to remember. I remember how these were supposed to be temporary.