Ultraxenopia (Project W. A. R. Book 1) (17 page)

I can feel his eyes upon me
like a raging inferno against my skin. They seem to burn into me, and I glance
up in response, fearlessly meeting the flames head on. I can feel everyone else
in the room look at me as well, but I’m too embarrassed to meet their gazes and
see the rejection that I’m afraid I’ll find there.

“She’s one of us now,” Ezra
says firmly. His tone leaves zero room for argument.

He turns his eyes back to
the group, and I realize why everyone here looks up to him. It seemed a bit odd
to me that he would be in charge, since there are multiple people here
considerably older and more experienced. But now, seeing the determination in
his gaze, it’s no wonder they follow him.

“This battle can’t go on
forever. It has to end eventually. Aren’t you all tired of running? Tired of
hiding
?”
he continues. “I know what I’ve said frightens you. I know you’re afraid of
change. But we all joined up for one reason. To fight back. And we’ll protect
anyone who shares in that mission, especially if the State intends to use them
for personal gain. Things
will
end. Things
will
get better. But
only if we stick together.”

Silence descends over the
crowd. I swallow, my eyes darting between the faces of the people before me and
noticing the one expression they all seem to share. I can tell by the way they
look back at us that, despite everything, Ezra has somehow managed to get
through to them. He’s reminded them why they’re here. He’s reminded them of
their mutual purpose.

The reality is that they
aren’t simply refugees or fugitives running from the State.

They’re advocates for
change.

My eyes assess the group,
soon landing back on that middle-aged man. His face is drawn, his expression
unreadable. For many long moments, he doesn’t even move. But then, he slowly
nods his head.

I take a deep breath, the
air hitching in my chest, and I glance up at Ezra, wondering what it means.

He jumps down from the
crate so that he’s standing beside me, and I notice the corners of his lips
pull up into the smallest trace of a smile. He looks down at me but says
nothing.

One by one, the people
gathered in the room begin to move toward me. Some pat me on the shoulder while
others only nod their heads in acknowledgment. Others go even further, verbally
welcoming me into their midst. It’s overwhelming and unusual, not least of all
because of their previous distrust of me.

It’s the way they act more
than anything else that astounds me. This sort of behavior doesn’t exist in the
outside world. No one is welcoming. No one really gets close to each other,
physically or otherwise—not even in families, except for reproductive purposes.
If they do, it’s rare, and
I’ve
certainly never seen it.

Everyone keeps to
themselves. Everyone maintains their distance.

Don’t stand out. Blend in.
Remain invisible. Those are the rules we always lived by.

Rules that don’t seem to
exist here.

I suppose, in many ways,
the world I’m used to is a lonely one. Maybe that’s why, despite the fact that
I barely know these people, the idea of staying here is appealing.

How could I possibly wish
to leave now that I’m surrounded by the very thing I’m beginning to realize
I’ve always wanted? It might be fleeting. It might not last. But in spite of
that, I’ve felt more in this past week than I’ve been allowed to feel in my
entire life. That alone, makes this worth it.

It’s as if a part of me is
waking up. The part that was forced into submission by the State. The part that
was forced to follow a strict set of rules.

To blend in.

It’s a good ten minutes or
so before the room is relatively empty. Through it all, Ezra never once leaves
my side.

Jenner and Rai wait in the
background until the remainder of the group has left, and aside from a few
lingerers, we’re the only people in the room. As soon as we’re alone again,
they congregate around us.

“Nice speech, chief, but
what now?” Jenner mutters in a single sarcastic breath. “They’re going to
expect some action after that.”

I look up at Ezra. He
presses his hand against his eyes as he lets out a heavy sigh.

“I wish I knew,” he
grumbles. Almost reluctantly, he meets my gaze. “I’d be lying if I said I
wasn’t tempted to use your . . .
ability
. . . to our advantage,” he
admits. “But I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if we did. Not when I know
what it’ll end up doing to you.”

“What do you mean?” Rai
asks.

My eyes lock with Ezra’s,
holding me to him for many long moments. Neither of us speak, and in many ways,
it’s as if the others are no longer here. We’re entirely alone, just the two of
us.

Us and the painful truth.

His words echo through my
head, haunting me with their hidden meaning.

Of course, I know. In
truth, I think I’ve known for a while now. How could I not, especially after
that story about his mother? I’ve been through this enough times to recognize
the extreme toll this condition is taking on my body. So, it makes sense.

How else could it possibly
end?

“He means it’ll kill me,” I
breathe.

Ezra’s eyes widen the instant
those words leave my mouth. It’s as if he’s only just realized what he’s said,
and he’s desperate to find some way to unsay it.

“I—”

I hold up my hand, cutting
him off. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t need to.

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “I
guess a part of me always knew that’s what would happen.”

The way he looks at me is
unbearable. Yet, it’s not what undoes me. It’s the others. It’s the extreme
sympathy and horror written across both of their faces.

“Wynter . . .” Rai gasps.

I take a step back, unable to
deal with this. “I . . . I have to go,” I mutter clumsily.

I turn on my heel and dash
from the room without a backward glance in their direction. I can hear Jenner
and Rai’s concerned voices calling after me. I ignore them. Ezra doesn’t call
after me, but he doesn’t have to.

His expression says it all.

I don’t turn back. Instead,
I stumble through the corridors, trying to figure out the best place to go to
be alone. I try to remember the tour that Rai and Jenner gave me before.
However, all I can think about are Ezra’s words. They echo in my ears,
replaying through my thoughts.

At first, I was afraid of
dying at the hands of the DSD. Then, the new threat became PHOENIX. The entire
time, I knew what this condition was doing to me, and I guess, on some level, I
knew what the outcome would be. Still, of all the menacing forces pursuing me,
I never allowed myself to even once consider that
I
would be the one to
bring about my own end.

The idea of inescapable
death frightens me to the point where it acts as a trigger for the very thing I
wish to avoid. My vision blurs as that horrible fire-like heat rises up across
my skin.

The familiar cycle begins
once again.

I continue to run, but my
legs grow weaker with each passing second. Spotting an open doorway, I force
myself through it, thankful when I see where my subconscious has led me.

I stagger through the
bathroom and nearly collapse in the shower. My fingers frantically reach for
the handle. A loud scream breaches my lips when the cold water hits my skin.

The vision strikes me at
that same moment. I see it all so clearly, just as I did that first time. I see
the emptiness. I see the debris. I see the destruction.

More than that, I see
myself
.

Blood streams from every
orifice on my face, mixing with the tears spilling from my solidly black eyes.
Screams escape my cracked lips, intermingled with hysterical, crazed pleas.

“I’m afraid!” I cry. “I
don’t want to kill anyone else. I don’t want to die!”

I can’t see who I’m talking
to, but I can hazard a guess. After all, he’s the only other person who is ever
present in this vision.

It’s only now that I
realize why I even saw this at all. It was never about Ezra. No matter how much
the DSD wants to blame him for what will happen, it was never about him, but
about me.

This power I have, it won’t
simply kill
me
. It will grow until it has the power to kill everyone
else as well.

The tiled walls crack
beneath my touch, my fingers slipping away as they reach for my head. The
pressure builds up inside of me until I can no longer take it. It rushes out of
me in a single wave of release.

The pipes in the walls
burst in response, showering me with excessive amounts of water and forcing my
already weak body to the floor. I succumb to the pain and to my impending
unconsciousness, desperate to avoid the realization plaguing my thoughts. Tears
flow down my cheeks, making me relive the truth—the brutal reality I can no
longer escape.

It’s always been about me.
This entire time, and in spite of all the signs that seemed to indicate
otherwise, it was always about me.

I am the one who will end
the world.

“WYNTER.”

I hear someone call my
name, but everything is hazy. I can’t see anything.

All I can feel is pain.

I’m trapped in a strange
place between unconsciousness and waking, causing the voices around me to be
muffled and distant. I can’t tell them apart. I can barely even remember who
they belong to in the first place. All I know for certain is that I’m dying.
Slowly, one piece at a time. Torn apart from the inside by this disease coursing
through me. Overtaking me until eventually, I won’t be able to control it.

“Is she breathing?”

“I don’t know—”

I try to wrap my head
around the words entering my ears, but all I can focus on are the pictures in
my thoughts. They surround me, engulfing me in that same familiar vision once
again.

I witness the world ending
just as I did that first time. Except now, I see it differently. Whereas,
originally, I looked at it with only fear and apprehension, I’m now consumed by
a tremendous burden of guilt.

The world will end. I know
that. There’s nothing I can do to stop it. Nothing I can do to protect anyone
from the person who will cause it.

From me.

“Why is there so much
blood?”

Static suddenly distorts
the picture, changing it. Now I see Ezra again. I see his dirt-stained cheeks.
The tears flowing from his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Wynter.”

Why? Why are you sorry?

Why . . .

“I’m sorry . . .”

Why do you cry?

Static again. Now I see
myself—or rather, the monster I’ll become. Black, soulless eyes. Blood covering
my skin, symbolizing the evil rotting within me. This power, it’s like a
parasite interweaving itself into every facet of my being.

There’s no running from it.
There’s no escaping it.

This . . .

This frightened but deadly
creature . . .

“Help her. Do whatever you
have to.”

This is what I’ll become.

My body feels light, as if
I’m being carried. The hands holding me are warm and supportive. Protective.
Shielding me from outside dangers—staying with me while I fight against the
threat growing inside of me.

“Wynter . . .” Ezra says to
me.

His voice is like a distant
light, calling to me from a place I have no hope of reaching. I search anyway.
I search for the light, desperate to find it.

Desperate to join it.

“Please wake up . . .”

The light rushes toward me,
swallowing everything in a blinding flash. Once it dissipates, I open my eyes,
and I’m surprised to find myself back in the compound—back in the room Ezra
told me was mine. Back when he asked me to stay here.

I blink. No one else is
around. Despite the voices I heard surrounding me, I’m completely alone, and
what’s even stranger is that I’m standing as if I’ve been awake this entire
time.

Is this real or is it a
dream? It must be a dream because I know I’m asleep. I have to be. Unless it’s
something else altogether.

I turn in place, feeling
somewhat disoriented. My eyes scan the room, but nothing I see can tell me
what’s about to happen. Nor
when
.

My feet inch forward, but a
sudden sound behind me instantly paralyzes my every movement.

“Wynter.”

A shudder runs up my spine
when I hear his voice. It’s so familiar to me now, interlaced in my every
waking thought. His voice is always in my head. Always speaking to me.

Always
haunting
me.

Hesitantly, I look over my
shoulder. The air catches in my chest when our eyes lock.

“Ezra,” I breathe.

“You can’t do this,” he
murmurs.

I stare at him, bewildered
and taken aback by his words—even more so because I can sense the anger behind
them. But why?

What could I have possibly
done this time?

“Do what?” I ask.

At this exact moment,
another voice enters the conversation.

My
voice.

“I have to,” it says.

My heart pounds wildly,
overflowing with anticipation as I shift from being the center of this vision
to nothing more than a simple spectator. Because this isn’t reality, I know that
now.

At least not yet.

I stare at where the other
me sits on the bed. She busies herself rewrapping her wrist, but I get the
impression she’s only doing that to avoid his gaze. My suspicions are confirmed
when I hear Ezra’s next words.

“Look at me,” he says. He
storms over to the bed and tears the bandaging from her hands. “You have no
idea what you’re getting yourself into,” he growls.

“And you do?” she asks,
finally glancing up at him.

I wait for something to
happen—for one of them to speak, but neither of them do.

The tension and suspense
seem to reach impossible heights until it gets to the point where I feel like I
could scream. A strange fear burrows in my stomach as the confusion overwhelms
me.

What’s happening? Why is he
so upset with me? But most of all, how did we get to this point?

The other me seems to know
these answers, but for whatever reason, she fails to show them to me. Not like
I can blame her, though. After all, she doesn’t exist yet.

Another shiver crosses my
skin as I watch the friction between them inflate until it’s practically
visible.
I
can hardly bear it, so it’s a wonder either of them can.
Eventually, it clearly becomes too much for her as well, and in a hurried
movement, she rises from the bed. Without a single glance in his direction, she
heads for the door.

It’s at this moment I see
something I could’ve never anticipated. Something I might not believe if I
didn’t already know about the accuracy of these visions.

It’s like a strange
dream—one you wake up from but know isn’t real. Except this . . .

This
is
real.

His hands shoot out,
turning her body around to face him and preventing her escape. Then, without
uttering a single word, he kisses her.

He kisses
me
.

Their embrace seems to last
a lifetime, as if the world surrounding us has somehow frozen. My heart races
in my chest, and I find myself desperate for answers.

Why is he kissing me?

What will happen that will
lead us to this?

I watch in disbelief as
they pull apart, each releasing quiet, fast-paced breaths. Their eyes lock, and
the expression on her face matches the one on mine now.

Stunned.

Bewildered.

Lost for words.

I try to speak, to say I
don’t understand, even though they won’t hear me. I can tell that she doesn’t
understand either. How could she? Ezra and I come from different worlds. Maybe
not originally, but he escaped our warped society far sooner than I did. This
leaves me unfamiliar with the emotions burning in his hazel gaze, as well as
with the confused feelings currently raging in my heart.

“I don’t want you to go,”
he whispers.

I can almost feel his warm
breath against my lips, despite being in the past and him standing in the
future. It’s as if we’re connected somehow, even across time.

I now realize that, from
the very first moment I saw him in my vision, I always sensed something linking
us—anchoring us together in a way I could never quite explain. From that very
first moment, I could feel myself changing. The emotions, everything I was told
to suppress in order to survive, he’s pulling them out of me one by one.

“Stay here,” he murmurs.
“Stay with
me
.”

Stay.

Stay . . . ?

Where would I go?

I take a deep breath as the
uncertainty consumes me, and suddenly, I find my eyes opening once more.
However, now they’re welcoming me back into reality, leaving me with nothing
but the memory of what awaits in the future.

But was that actually a
vision or is it possible that was all only a dream? If it
was
a dream,
why would I see that?

Why would I have those
thoughts about him?

My head pounds as I try to
make sense of the images running through my brain. Which, of course, are only
made worse by the déjà vu that hits me as soon as I look around. I gaze upon
the room. I’m back in my new quarters, and just like in the dream, I’m not
alone.

“Ezra . . .” I whimper.

Shifting in the chair
positioned beside the bed, an expectant look crosses his face when he hears my
voice. He seems almost startled at first, but within seconds, his expression
changes. Now, all I see is immense relief.

“How are you feeling?” he
asks.

He moves closer to me, but
I can’t help but notice the distance in his gaze. Even his tone has an air of
resistance to it, as if he’s walking on eggshells because of what’s happening
to me. Because of what
will
happen to me.

I clear my throat.
“Honestly, I’ve felt better.”

He sucks in a sharp breath
and lowers his eyes, looking down at his clasped hands.

“I’m so sorry,” he mutters.

While a part of me is
sincerely taken aback by his apology, another part of me can only think of one
thing.

Those words ring through my
thoughts like a bell, reminding me of the future that stands before us. But I
can’t face it.

Not right now.

“Still not it,” I whisper.
When he peers up at me, I make an effort to look as serious as possible.
“You’re not off the hook yet,” I add.

It’s only when I smile that
he realizes I’m joking—something I never would’ve thought I was capable of.
Thankfully, he seems to relax, and for a few seconds, we simply look at each
other, enjoying this one moment of peace when we’re both well aware that it can
never last.

Eventually, I turn away
from him.

“Where is everyone?” I ask.

I try to sit up, but my
entire body is aching. Ezra leans forward to help me, and I slump back into the
pillow the instant his hands leave my body.

“Sleeping,” he says. “It’s
three in the morning.”

“How long have I been out?”
I gasp.

My vision occurred sometime
in the afternoon, so in all fairness, it could be less than a day since it’s
happened. Whether or not I actually believe that is another story.

He inhales deeply before
answering, and I can see the hesitation in his gaze. “It’s been a week,” he
breathes.

My heart nearly stops, and
it takes everything I have to hide the panic rushing through me. A week? It’s
been that long?

I bite my lip, disturbed by
the toll this disease is taking on my body. The longest my unconsciousness has
lasted up until now has only been a day at most. To jump from that to an entire
week . . .

My hands tremble nervously
as I wonder what it means. All I know for certain is that it’s getting worse,
and if things continue to progress like they are now then I don’t feel
optimistic about how much time I have left.

“There’s something else,”
Ezra says, breaking my depressing train of thought.

I wait for him to speak,
but for some reason, he seems reluctant to continue.

He closes his eyes and
takes a deep breath. “We received a transmission while you were out. It was
from a high-ranking member of the State who claims to want to work undercover
for us. For PHOENIX.”

“Who is it?” I ask. I can’t
keep the skepticism out of my voice, and I can tell that he, too, seems
doubtful about it.
Doubtful or . . . apprehensive?

“His name is Wren Bilken.
He’s a senior advisor for the State, who works in direct correspondence with
the city magistrate. He’s also the acting CEO for W. P. Headquarters.”