Ignite Me (11 page)

He’s become a husk of who he was.

My heart feels weighed down by the depth of Kenji’s pain; I wish so much that I could do something to help. To fix things. And in that moment I promise myself I will.

I’ll do everything I can.

“All right.” Kenji claps his hands together, nods a few times before taking a tight breath. “Everyone all warm and fuzzy? Good? Good.” He nods again. “Now let me tell you the story of how our friend Juliette was shot in the chest.”

NINETEEN

Everyone is gaping at me.

Kenji has just finished giving them every detail I shared with him, taking care to leave out the parts about Warner telling me he loves me, and I’m silently grateful. Even though I told Adam that he and I shouldn’t be together anymore, everything between us is still so raw and unresolved. I’ve tried to move on, to distance myself from him because I wanted to protect him; but I’ve had to mourn Adam’s loss in so many different ways now that I’m not sure I even know how to feel anymore.

I have no idea what he thinks of me.

There are so many things Adam and I need to talk about; I just don’t want Warner to be one of them. Warner has always been a tense topic between us—especially now that Adam knows they’re brothers—and I’m not in the mood for arguing, especially not on my first day back.

But it seems I won’t be able to get off that easily.

“
Warner
saved your life?” Lily asks, not bothering to hide her shock or her repulsion. Even Alia is sitting up and paying attention now, her eyes glued to my face. “Why the hell would he do that?”

“Dude, forget that,” Ian cuts in. “What are we going to
do about the fact that Warner can just steal our powers and shit?”

“You don’t have any powers,” Winston answers him. “So you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“You know what I mean,” Ian snaps, a hint of color flushing up his neck. “It’s not safe for a psycho like him to have that kind of ability. It freaks me the hell out.”

“He’s not a psych—,” I try to say, but the room erupts into a cacophony of voices, all vying for a chance to be heard.

“What does this even mean—”

“—dangerous?”

“So Sonya and Sara are still
alive
—”

“—actually saw Anderson? What did he look like?”

“But why would he even—”

“—okay, but that’s not—”

“WAIT,” Adam cuts everyone off. “Where the hell is he
now
?” He turns to look me in the eye. “You said Warner brought you out here to show you what happened to Omega Point, but then the minute Kenji shows up, he just disappears.” A pause. “Right?”

I nod.

“So—what?” he says. “He’s done? He’s just walking away?” Adam spins around, looks at everyone. “Guys, he knows that at least one of us is still alive! He’s probably gone to get backup, to find a way to take the rest of us out—” He stops, shakes his head, hard. “Shit,” he says under his breath. “SHIT.”

Everyone freezes at the same time. Horrified.

“No,” I say quickly, holding up both hands. “No—he’s not going to do that—”

Eight pairs of eyes turn on me.

“He doesn’t care about killing you guys. He doesn’t even like The Reestablishment. And he hates his father—”

“What are you talking about?” Adam cuts me off, alarmed. “Warner is an
animal
—”

I take a steadying breath. I need to remember how little they know Warner, how little they’ve heard from his point of view; I have to remind myself what I used to think of him just a few days ago.

Warner’s revelations are still so recent. I don’t know how to properly defend him or how to reconcile these polarizing impressions of him, and for a moment it makes me furious with him and his stupid pretenses, for ever having put me in this position. If only he didn’t come across as a sick, twisted psycho, I wouldn’t have to stand up for him right now.

“He
wants
to take down The Reestablishment,” I try to explain. “And he wants to kill Anderson, too—”

The room explodes into more arguments. Shouts and epithets that all boil down to no one believing me, everyone thinking I’m insane and that Warner’s brainwashed me; they think he’s a proven murderer who locked me up and tried to use me to torture people.

And they’re not wrong. Except that they are.

I want so desperately to tell them they don’t understand.

None of them know the truth, and they’re not giving me a chance to explain. But just as I’m about to say something
else in my own defense, I catch a glimpse of Ian out of the corner of my eye.

He’s laughing at me.

Out loud, slapping his knee, head thrown back, howling with glee at what he thinks is my stupidity, and for a moment I seriously begin to doubt myself and everything Warner said to me.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

How will I ever really know if I can trust him? How do I know he wasn’t lying to me like he always did, like he claims he has been from the beginning?

I’m so sick of this uncertainty. So sick and tired of it.

But I blink and I’m being pulled out of the crowd, tugged toward James’s bedroom door; to the storage closet that used to be his room. Adam pulls me inside and shuts the door on the insanity behind us. He’s holding my arms, looking into my eyes with a strange, burning intensity that startles me.

I’m trapped.

“What’s going on?” he asks. “Why are you defending Warner? After everything he did to you, you should hate him—you should be furious—”

“I can’t, Adam, I—”

“What do you mean you
can’t
?”

“I just—it’s not that easy anymore.” I shake my head, try to explain the unexplainable. “I don’t know what to think of him now. There are so many things I misunderstood. Things I couldn’t comprehend.” I drop my eyes. “He’s really . . .” I hesitate, conflicted.

I don’t know how to tell the truth without sounding like a liar.

“I don’t know,” I finally say, staring into my hands. “I don’t know. He’s just . . . he’s not as bad as I thought.”

“Wow.” Adam exhales, shocked. “
He’s not as bad as you thought
. He’s not as bad as you thought? How on earth could he be any better than you
thought
—?”

“Adam—”

“What the hell are you
thinking
, Juliette?”

I look up. He can’t hide the disgust in his eyes.

I panic.

I need to find a way to explain, to present an irrefutable example—proof that Warner is not who I thought he was—but I can already tell that Adam has lost confidence in me, that he doesn’t trust me or believe me anymore, and I flounder.

He opens his mouth to speak.

I beat him to it. “Do you remember that day you found me crying in the shower? After Warner forced me to torture that toddler?”

Adam hesitates before nodding slowly, reluctantly.

“That was one of the reasons I hated him so much. I thought he’d actually put a child in that room—that he’d stolen someone’s kid and wanted to watch me torture it. It was just so despicable,” I say. “So disgusting, so horrifying. I thought he was inhuman. Completely evil. But . . . it wasn’t real,” I whisper.

Adam looks confused.

“It was just a simulation,” I try to explain. “Warner told me it was a simulation chamber, not a torture room. He said it all happened in my imagination.”

“Juliette,” Adam says. Sighs. He looks away, looks back at me. “What are you talking about? Of course it was a simulation.”

“What?”

Adam laughs a small, confused sort of laugh.

“You knew it wasn’t real . . . ?” I ask.

He stares at me.

“But when you found me—you said it wasn’t my fault—you told me you’d heard about what happened, and that it wasn’t my fault—”

Adam runs a hand through the hair at the back of his neck. “I thought you were upset about breaking down that wall,” he says. “I mean, I knew the simulation would probably be scary as hell, but I thought Warner would’ve told you what it was beforehand. I had no idea you’d walked into something like that thinking it was going to be real.” He presses his eyes shut for a second. “I thought you were upset about learning you had this whole new crazy ability. And about the soldiers who were injured in the aftermath.”

I’m blinking at him, stunned.

All this time, a small part of me was still holding on to doubt—believing that maybe the torture chamber
was
real and that Warner was just lying to me. Again.

But now, to have confirmation from Adam himself.

I’m floored.

Adam is shaking his head. “That bastard,” he’s saying. “I can’t believe he did that to you.”

I lower my eyes. “Warner’s done a lot of crazy things,” I say, “but he really thought he was helping me.”

“But he wasn’t helping you,” Adam says, angry again. “He was
torturing
you—”

“No. That’s not true.” I focus my eyes on a crack in the wall. “In some strange way . . . he did help me.” I hesitate before meeting Adam’s gaze. “That moment in the simulation chamber was the first time I ever allowed myself to be angry. I never knew how much more I could do—that I could be so physically strong—until that moment.”

I look away.

Clasp and unclasp my hands.

“Warner puts up this facade,” I’m saying. “He acts like he’s a sick, heartless monster, but he’s . . . I don’t know . . .” I trail off, my eyes trained on something I can’t quite see. A memory, maybe. Of Warner smiling. His gentle hands wiping away my tears.
It’s okay, you’re okay
, he’d said to me. “He’s really—”

“I don’t, um—” Adam breaks away, blows out a strange, shaky breath. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to understand this,” he says, looking unsteady. “You—what? You like him now? You’re friends with him? The same guy who tried to
kill
me?” He’s barely able to conceal the pain in his voice. “He had me hung from a conveyor belt in a slaughterhouse, Juliette. Or have you already forgotten that?”

I flinch. Drop my head in shame.

I
had
forgotten about that.

I’d forgotten that Warner almost killed Adam, that he’d shot Adam right in front of my face. He saw Adam as a traitor, as a soldier who held a gun to the back of his head; defied him and stole me away.

It makes me sick.

“I’m just . . . I’m so confused,” I finally manage to say. “I want to hate him but I just don’t know how anymore—”

Adam is staring at me like he has no idea who I am.

I need to talk about something else.

“What’s going on with Castle?” I ask. “Is he sick?”

Adam hesitates before answering, realizing I’m trying to change the subject. Finally, he relents. Sighs. “It’s bad,” he says to me. “He’s been hit worse than the rest of us. And Castle taking it all so hard has really affected Kenji.”

I study Adam’s face as he speaks, unable to stop myself from searching for similarities to Anderson and Warner.

“He doesn’t really leave that chair,” Adam is saying. “He sits there all day until he collapses from exhaustion, and even then, he just falls asleep sitting in the same spot. Then he wakes up the next morning and does the same thing again, all day. He only eats when we force him to, and only moves to go to the bathroom.” Adam shakes his head. “We’re all hoping he’ll snap out of it pretty soon, but it’s been really weird to just lose a leader like that. Castle was in charge of everything. And now he doesn’t seem to care about anything.”

“He’s probably still in shock,” I say, remembering it’s
only been three days since the battle. “Hopefully, with time,” I tell him, “he’ll be all right.”

“Yeah,” Adam says. Nods. Studies his hands. “But we really need to figure out what we’re going to do. I don’t know how much longer we can live like this. We’re going to run out of food in a few weeks at the most,” he says. “We’ve got ten people to feed now. Plus, Brendan and Winston are still hurting; I’ve done what I can for them using the limited supplies I have here, but they need actual medical attention and pain medication, if we can swing it.” A pause. “I don’t know what Kenji’s told you, but they were seriously messed up when we brought them in here. Winston’s swelling has only just gone down. We really can’t stay here for much longer,” he says. “We need a plan.”

“Yes.” I’m so relieved to hear he’s ready to be proactive. “Yes. Yes. We need a plan. What are you thinking? Do you already have something in mind?”

Adam shakes his head. “I don’t know,” he admits. “Maybe we can keep breaking into the storage units like we used to—steal supplies every once in a while—and lie low in a bigger space on unregulated ground. But we’ll never be able to set foot on the compounds,” he says. “There’s too much risk. They’ll shoot us dead on sight if we’re caught. So . . . I don’t know,” he says. He looks sheepish as he laughs. “I’m kind of hoping I’m not the only one with ideas.”

“But . . .” I hesitate, confused. “That’s it? You’re not thinking of fighting back anymore? You think we should just find a way to live—like
this
?” I gesture to the door, to what lies beyond it.

Adam looks at me, surprised by my reaction.

“It’s not like I
want
this,” he says. “But I can’t see how we could possibly fight back without getting ourselves killed. I’m trying to be practical.” He runs an agitated hand through his hair. “I took a chance,” he says, lowering his voice. “I tried to fight back, and it got us all massacred. I shouldn’t even be alive right now. But for some crazy reason, I am, and so is James, and God, Juliette, so are you.

“And I don’t know,” he says, shaking his head, looking away. “I feel like I’ve been given a chance to live my life. I’ll need to think of new ways to find food and put a roof over my head. I have no money coming in, I’ll never be able to enlist in this sector again, and I’m not a registered citizen, so I’ll never be able to work. Right now all I’m focused on is how I’ll be able to feed my family and my friends in a few weeks.” His jaw tenses. “Maybe one day another group will be smarter—stronger—but I don’t think that’s us anymore. I don’t think we stand a chance.”

I’m blinking at him, stunned. “I can’t believe this.”