Strange Skies (2 page)

Push the button
. My finger inched toward the device. Pushing the button would end the headache and icy cold. The large woman would help me. She’d give me medicine to make me feel better. My hand trembled as it touched the button, but I hesitated. Disjointed thoughts raced through my brain. Even scarier than not knowing where I was, was not knowing
who
I was.

The deep voice started in again from above.
The Consulate serves. The Consulate protects. The Consulate weapons help us to protect you. The Consulate is your friend
. I stared at the ceiling and noticed a small device where the voice seemed to be coming from. It stopped suddenly as the sound of footsteps reached my door, followed by hushed voices. I allowed myself to slide back against the pillow and closed my eyes as the door opened. More footsteps came to the side of my bed.

“She’s an hour past her dose but hasn’t pushed the button. What do you think, doctor?” It was the large woman who had given me the injection of amazing medicine.

Just open your eyes and she’ll give it to you. Your pain will disappear
. I tried to ignore the voice in my head.

“She’s still out cold and I don’t want an accidental overdose. She’s no good to us dead.” An image of spectacles and a shiny coat popped into my head, but disappeared again. He must be one of the doctors treating my illness, whatever it was. But what did he mean by overdose?

He felt my pulse and scanned me with something that caused a warm buzzing over my body. I wanted them to leave. The doctor’s hand rested on my arm and a chill went down my spine. He cleared his throat. “Are you awake?”

I pretended to stir. “Mmmm.”

“It’s Dr. Sorokin. How are you feeling?”

It took so much effort to form words. “I’m not sure. What’s wrong with me? Where am I?”

Dr. Sorokin glanced at the woman before answering me with a question of his own. “What do you remember?”

I focused my thoughts but it was all a hazy blur. “All I remember is a Consulate ship but I don’t remember why I was there. I think I was hurt. Why can’t I remember anything?”

Dr. Sorokin smiled at the woman. The look on his face was smug, almost triumphant. I didn’t like it. “Yes, you were injured. Sometimes trauma can cause memory loss, so I wouldn’t worry too much about it. You are safe now—you’re in a Consulate center on Caelia, the new Earth.” He studied my face, as though waiting for a reaction. “How do you feel about the Consulate?”

I knew the word
Consulate
meant something to me, but all I could recall was what I’d heard from the ceiling. I
struggled to speak again. “Are they the ones who gave me these meds?”

Dr. Sorokin’s hand was icy on my arm. I wanted to pull away but didn’t have the strength. “Yes, the Consulate is giving you medicine to help you get better.”

I started to drift off again but fought it. “Then I think they’re fabulous. I love the Consulate.” My eyes fluttered shut, and I hoped they’d think I had fallen back asleep. All I wanted was this man to take his cold hand off my body.

He shook my arm but I played dead. Dr. Sorokin sighed and spoke to the woman. “Give her two more hours, max, then wake her. Allan thinks we can safely begin Phase Two. We started too early last time. These drugs should have erased a lot of her memories by now, and she’s so dependent on them that she’ll do whatever we want to get more. We have her just where we want her.”

The woman chuckled. “Heard her mother was an addict too. Guess we don’t need to worry about this one running away again.”

They left the room. My brain tried—and failed—to compute what I’d just heard. I had run away from these people? That meant I was a prisoner. I could barely manage to push a button, yet somehow I had attempted to escape this place. And they’d said I was dependent on drugs. That explained why I craved the meds so badly. But the woman’s comment stuck with me. She’d said my mother was an addict too.
Mother? Where was my mother?

I fought off sleep as another wave of exhaustion
crashed into me. Whatever Dr. Sorokin had in store for me wasn’t good—I knew that much. The haze started to confuse my brain again, but I pushed through the fog to search for memories. Fractured images swirled, then slowly merged in my mind. Images of a fiery red sun, an army of guns, a boy with blond stubble and a sandpaper voice, a father bent over a notebook, and last, a little girl in a pale flowered shirt. My eyes widened in shock as the pictures crystallized. It took all of my strength to lift my hand and wipe the beads of sweat from my forehead. I opened my mouth and my voice was still weak and scratchy, but I heard myself clearly.

“I am Tora Reynolds.”

Though I had no clue how long I’d been held captive, all that mattered was the two short hours I had left before Dr. Sorokin and Nurse Nasty came back for me. It was still hard to comprehend that after refusing meds my entire life, I’d become an even worse addict than my mother. Against my will but an addict nonetheless.

A fresh batch of sweat poured from my skin, and the throbbing in my head resumed. Was it more sad or funny that though I wanted to escape, I couldn’t help but feel that a “tiny dose” of meds would help the process go more smoothly?

I surveyed my attire and sighed. The only thing on me was a thermoplastic gown, presumably for easier access to the catheter tubing. That would have to go first. I took a
deep breath and pulled out the long, thin tube. I winced as it slid out, mentally filed the task under “Things I Never Want to Do Again.”

Then I leaned over and checked the drawer in the bedside table, but it was empty. I had a vague recollection of my satchel but it was nowhere in sight. Guess I’d have to make do with the gown. Not that I had much chance of blending in, anyway, with my shaking hands and sweat-drenched hair. The door seemed incredibly far away as I swung my legs to the floor.

I took an unsteady step and had to lean on the table for support. I tried again and made it two whole steps before my knees buckled and I fell. It was like I was learning to walk all over again. My fingers brushed the cold tile and I inhaled deeply.
You can do this
, I told myself.
Yeah, but wouldn’t it be easier with a little help of the chemical variety?
I gritted my teeth. At this rate it would take the whole two hours just to make it to the door. I pushed up from the floor. After what felt like a million shaky steps, I reached it and leaned my head against the cold surface.

No footsteps sounded outside so I reached for the door handle with bated breath. There was no energetic lock that I could see. It was open. Guess being in a vegetative state for so long had lulled these people into a false sense of security. Good thing, because if it had been locked, I think I would have laid down right there and taken a nap.

The door opened easily, but it still took a crazy amount of effort on my part. How in the hell was I going to escape
if opening a door was problematic? The hallway was clear, but I had no idea which way to go. It wasn’t like they had the flashing exit signs that had lined the halls of Dad’s Consulate building job. Dad’s Consulate job. A whole new host of memories flooded back, and I pushed them away for the time being. I needed to get out of this place first.

My room was around the center point of the hallway, and it stretched about thirty feet on either side. There were no windows. One direction looked to be a few feet shorter than the other, so I headed that way. It was just as cold in the hall as in my room. Only a few dim lights hung from makeshift holders on the wall.

The entire building looked primitive in construction, consisting of a dark brown material I’d never seen before. Still, it was an actual building, which meant I’d probably been here awhile. It had to have been several months since I’d been picked up by the Consulate ship. Several months since I’d tried to keep my dad’s bioenergetic weapons out of enemy hands and failed miserably. Guns that only I—and apparently James—could fire. Several months since Kale had landed on that crazy-ass shifting planet, watched James shoot me, and then took off with the guns when the Consulate descended. I saw the lasers from the soldiers’ guns tear into James right before I’d detonated T.O., the most powerful bomb ever made.

James
. The name sent shivers down my spine. When the shivers increased to the point of shaking, I realized that withdrawal, rather than conflicted feelings, was the
culprit. My limbs twitched uncontrollably, and I broke out in a sweat yet again. The urge to vomit was overwhelming.

It was impossible that my skin felt so hot, but I was so cold, like an icy fire ran through my veins instead of blood.
Ticktock
. I’d killed at least thirty minutes already and was getting nowhere fast. My long-term plan of finding Kale and the guns was toast if my short-term goal of walking didn’t go so well. I pushed myself to take several more steps. There were no other doors in this hallway. I made it to the corner and turned. This corridor was shorter, only about twenty feet long and ended at a door.

About fifteen feet away from me on the right was another door, but it was the end of the hallway that made my heart skip. Faint light shone from behind it. It had to be an exit. I hobbled along as quickly as possible. The cold feeling had entirely disappeared. In fact, it felt downright toasty. Maybe this was a lull in the withdrawal symptoms. I hoped so because I’d sweated out most of the liquid in my body and would kill for some Caelia Pure.

I’d gotten about halfway down the hall when I heard a noise from somewhere behind me. I turned around but saw nothing there. As I took another step, other sounds became clearer—footsteps and voices. It was the large woman and someone else. Not the doctor, but the person sounded vaguely familiar.

They had to be heading toward my room. The sound of a door opening followed by the woman’s loud, panicked voice confirmed it. No way had it been two hours, had it?
Crap. I attempted to run to the exit, but it ended up being more like a drunken shuffle. I’d never make it.

The door on my right-hand side was only a foot away. It didn’t have a lock either and was my only shot. They would turn the corner in a second and see me. I lurched for the door. Inside, I shut it and pressed my back against it to keep them out. My legs were rubbery and I knew I couldn’t hold on for much longer. I was out of juice.

I leaned my head back and looked around the room. It was identical to mine, down to the bed and table. Down to a figure lying comatose in the center of the bed, though the person, at least, had managed to pull the covers up around him. Curious about my fellow prisoner, I stepped toward the bed. It wasn’t like I had the strength to keep anyone out of the room anyway.

The blanket covered most of his face but his forehead was covered in sweat. At least I assumed it was a “he” due to the short gray hair. It must be close to his next dose time too. The building’s cooling system must have been out of whack—unless they were using a bizarre method of torture by climate control. I reached out and tugged the cover down.
Holy mother of god
.

I couldn’t even comprehend what I was seeing. Maybe it was a hallucination from the drugs. His eyes widened in shock and confusion that must have mirrored my own.

“Tora? Is that you?” his voice croaked.

I touched his face to make sure it was real.

“Yes. Yes, Dad. It’s me.”

Chapter
TWO

D
AD REACHED FOR MY WRIST AND ATTEMPTED TO SIT UP
. His hand was frail and bony. I helped pull him to a seated position and placed a pillow behind him so he could lean back. He struggled to speak. “They told me you were dead. All this time, I thought you were dead.”

I squeezed his hand. “They told me the same thing about you.” The fact that he sat here in front of me still wasn’t totally registering. I think it was a combination of shock and the drugs.

His sunken eyes were so different from the calm, confident gaze I remembered. He’d glance up from his notebooks to wave me into his study, and I’d curl up to read on the bench in his room while he worked, always feeling safe when he was near. Now, he didn’t look like he could protect himself, let alone anyone else. “What have they done to you, Dad? Have they had you all this time?”

“Ever since that so-called meeting back on Earth. I should have known it was a trap. They said they’d let me go as soon as I told them where the guns were. Later, they claimed they’d found the guns and that you were dead, so I might as well work with them.” His voice broke. “I still wouldn’t cooperate, so after they transported me to Caelia, they started experimenting with various drugs. Drugs to make me compliant.” He coughed. “I guess I’m still not very compliant, though.”

“Like father, like daughter.” I patted his arm. “They gave me different drugs too. Ones to make me forget. They thought if I lost my memories, I’d forget what burners they were.”

I remembered the last page of Mom’s journal, the one where Dad had written about how I’d locked Callie out of the bunker. How Callie had died and then Mom sank next to her by the boulder and let herself burn alive right outside our shelter door. A torrent of emotions overcame me. Guilt. Grief. Relief.

The reality of Dad being alive finally hit me, and I threw my arms around him. All those lonely nights after he never returned from that meeting when I thought he’d been killed. A sob tore from my throat. “I’m so sorry about Mom and Callie,” I said. “I read the journal. I never meant—”

“Shhh,” said Dad. “That’s not important now. What matters is that you’re okay.” Tears leaked from his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re sitting here in front of me.”

“We can’t stay here long. They’ll find us. We need to get you out of here.” I glanced around the room and back at Dad, who didn’t look strong enough to walk ten feet. Not that I was in much better shape.

The reunion was short-lived. The door flew open, banging against the wall. I stared openmouthed at the person standing next to the woman. Alec. The guy from Sector 2 who I’d talked Markus into rescuing back on Earth. How was this possible? The heavyset woman gasped for air, red-faced as she bent over with her hand to her chest. I might have a slight chance in hell of getting by her, but I’d never get by Alec.