Possession (21 page)

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Authors: Elana Johnson

BOOK: Possession
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“What do we do?” Jag asked.

“Well, I think I can power down the Mechs.” I closed my eyes and extended my mind across the sand. “There’re maybe . . . twenty of them. High-class ones that require decoders, but, well, I’m pretty sure I can do it without the code.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you can too.”

A flicker of irritation sparked in my mind. I wished he would’ve told me about my talents a long time ago. I sure could have used that information to cross the border.

“Earth to Vi. Come on, babe. Stop blaming me for everything.”

I took a deep breath to quiet the perfect comeback.

“Twenty Mechs present a lot of problems,” Jag continued. “We can’t have them following us into the desert. They never stop; the sun doesn’t bother them. And, technically, they’re immune from the treaties. Man, I hate Mechs. How many Greenies?”

I still needed a course on what the treaties entailed. Seemed to me that if Mechs could enter the desert, then it wasn’t safe.

“I’ll explain later,” Jag said. “How many Greenies?”

Anger smoldered through my veins. I hated how he was inside my head, listening.

“Vi, how many Greenies?” He didn’t sound sorry.

“Ten,” I said, swallowing another insult. “Five men, five women.”

“That’s nothing. Why so few? Hmm, maybe they think we won’t fight back. Weird.”

“Jag,
everything
is weird to me, including every damn thing you just said.” Yeah, the biting-my-tongue-thing only happens once in a lifetime, and I’d just used my quota.

He shrugged in response, which pissed me off even more.

“Okay, here’s what we can do,” Jag said, rolling over and staring at the sky. “Option number one: stay here and wait until morning so we can see better. That sucks. Forget that as option number one. New option number one: Get as close as we can,
turn off all the Mechs, and fight the ten people.” He didn’t wait for me to reply. “Option number two: Get as close as we can, listen to see what their plans are, and then act at the best time. Hell, that sucks too. Okay, option number three: Well, I don’t really have an option number three.” He looked at me, like I was supposed to ramble on to myself about insane options too.

“Okay, why don’t we just start west now?”

Jag sat up and rubbed sand out of his hair. “The road goes straight west from the bluff. There is no other way.”

Why couldn’t we just walk up like we didn’t know they were there, turn off the Mechs, and tase everyone else? Maybe use those bio-canisters I’d taken. Jag could just tell them to sit down or something. I mean, the guy has
voice control
.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Jag said, standing up.

I grabbed his pant leg and pulled hard. He fell, sending sand into my eyes and mouth. I coughed and spit. “Wait just a minute. Do what? I didn’t say anything.”

His eyes betrayed him—the guy could do a lot more than simply feel emotions.

I punched him, hard. In the shoulder—because I’m partial to his face. “I’m so sick of you reading my thoughts like they’re your personal journal.”

“I don’t—”

“Shut up. Just shut up! Don’t you realize that’s what
Thinkers do? Read my thoughts? Get inside my head?” Fury and frustration combined with exhaustion and sparked behind my eyes in a beam of crimson light. “Since you’re so fond of plans, here’s mine: You leave me the hell alone. I’ll get to Seaside on my own.” I stood and marched over the hill, scanning for cover as I went. Stupid, stupid guy. Just because he could didn’t mean he had the right to read my every thought.

Now that I’d let the anger out, it consumed me, driving all rational thought away. Only fury existed. Every injustice of my life piled up until I was pissed at the world—and determined to do something about it.

I slipped behind a plant and got a little too close. One of the spikes stabbed me in the back. I stifled a cry as an idea formed in my mind. Using tech this close would alert the Greenies . . .

I pulled out a bio-cylinder and stabbed it into the flesh of the plant. The explosion puffed out a cloud of dense smoke. The plant shook and white flowers descended from above. Several spines smoldered and fell off.

The Greenies gathered, looking toward me. Dashing to the next plant, the tech from the Mechs nearly blinded me. I closed my eyes and concentrated. I took out my phone just to be ready. I deactivated all twenty Mechs simply by telling them to power down. I imagined how still they stood, how quiet the night would be without their whirrings.

And what I thought came true.

That really got a rise out of the Greenies. Their shouts of concern could be heard from my position at least a half mile away.

There’s nothing wrong. Violet isn’t coming tonight. Thane arrived in time, and he apprehended her.
I thought this, I thought it hard, sending it to each Greenie. As one, they turned away from the open desert and took a seat around the fire.

I squashed the rising nausea and snuck from plant to plant, careful to avoid being impaled by the spikes. The silhouettes of the Mechs shone silver in the firelight. I shivered. The sight of twenty high-class robots—that I’d made still, silent, dead—gave me some serious creeps.

The cool air pierced the thin fabric of my shirt and kissed my sunburned skin, making me hot and cold at the same time. My head throbbed with the effort it had taken to deactivate the Mechs and brainwash the Greenies. My own thoughts, what I was capable of, tortured me. The landscape swayed, and I threw up.

A hand touched my shoulder. I spun and fired the taser. Jag flew backward into the sand, arms and legs sprawled, eyes closed.

I swear I didn’t know it was him.

31.

My mind raced while Jag’s clothes smoked.

Jag or the Greenies? He wasn’t dead, but we both might be if I helped him first.

My fine display of tech hadn’t gone unnoticed—the Greenies abandoned the fire and began to fan out. Quickly, I took the phone from Jag’s limp hand. I refused to look at his peaceful face.

The Greenies were moving steadily out into the open dirt. I scampered west and then darted toward the stand of trees littering the bank of a small stream, sending my
Everything is fine
transmissions again. These trees had green leaves and familiar bark. I crouched behind the first one I came to.

There were ten Greenies. One me. I couldn’t just start
firing at random. I crawled from tree to tree until I lay hidden a few yards from their camp. Night settled in, silent and comfortable, but I was scared stiff. I controlled the Greenies, telling them there was no danger, and nobody was going to come that night, and hey, just relax and enjoy the company.

They did. They all resumed their places around the fire. “We need to train Violet,” a man said. “Her natural talent exceeds even the most powerful Director in the Association. No wonder Thane was so persistent in waiting until she divulged her full scope of abilities.”

“Breaking tech cuffs was pretty impressive.”

“She almost escaped, simply by mentally telling that hovercopter pilot to let her go.”

I couldn’t get my heart to settle back in my chest. Listening to them talk about the things I’d done using my control made my stomach coil into a tight ball. My dad had been watching me for years. Waiting.

The beautiful rage awakened, spiraling through my blood until it coated my mouth.

“White Cliffs or Bloomington or perhaps Seaside will protect her. And even Thane must honor the treaties with the oceanic region.”

“And Jag Barque has formidable talents as well. Remember how he talked the council to sleep last January? Don’t
underestimate him just because his talent is in his mouth.” That voice belonged to Baldie.

“We never should have let these cities lapse so far.”

“Reports have been sent to the Association every month, as required.” Baldie sounded a little too defensive.

“I know. But the recruiting department hasn’t found anyone new for a year.”

“Except the Bower boy.”

I inhaled sharply at the mention of Zenn’s last name. What was this recruiting department and how had they found him? What exactly could he do?

“Don’t forget about Surge Pennington, either. He watches the camera like it’s a projection. His ability to sense tech is amazing.”

“Nowhere near Violet’s, though.”

“Definitely not. But he was transported to Freedom for training this morning,” a woman said. I stiffened at the casual way she spoke about the child. Like he wasn’t a person with choices, but a pawn in their sick mind-control game. And now he’d been captured, and according to Pace, would be imprisoned in Freedom (how ironic) while They trained the humanity out of him, taught him how to brainwash others. I swallowed back the anger so I could continue eavesdropping.

The Greenies talked in turn, more gibberish I didn’t
understand about how it was time to tame the west. How the Goodgrounds had enjoyed twenty-five years of freedom, but now They needed to re-establish control. If they called life in the Goodgrounds free, I didn’t want to experience control.

“Freedom can be easily taken.”

Baldie was right. Freedom can be easily taken. Men are easier to control than women, so I targeted them. Each man moved his hand to his pocket, extracted the tech-phone, and pressed send when I commanded. A moment later I stepped from behind the tree, firing both of my phones at the closest men.

The women fell at the hands of their fellow Greenies, and I had three men tased before the other two realized that anything had happened. I pressed the send button, and another man fell. The remaining Greenie—Baldie—stood gaping at me.

“I’ll do it,” I said, moving forward. My voice sounded stronger than I felt. “Put your phone down and empty your pockets.”

Baldie lowered two phones, several bio-canisters, a golden key, and a teleporter ring to the ground.

“Now back up,” I commanded, moving one step forward for each one he took back. I gathered the tech and put it in my pockets, trying not to look at the fallen Greenies.

“I can help you. I’m not working for Thane. Please, listen to me Violet.”

“Whatever,” I said.

“I’ve been protecting you for years. You have to believe me.”

“I don’t.”

“Who do you think covered up all your rule-breaking in the Goodgrounds? Viol—”

I willed him to be silent. His expression glazed; his mouth hung open in defeat. I played with his teleporter ring, twirling it in my fingers to buy time.
I can silence without a silencer.
The thought brought hot tears of anger to my eyes. And what if he was telling the truth?

“Sit,” I said.

He sat.

“Stay.” I had no doubt that he would stay. I controlled him completely. Easily. My legs shook as I hurried out into the flat expanse to find Jag.

Kneeling over him, I tried to shake him awake. I said his name. Nothing worked. I took a deep breath and called to him in his mind. After a few moments his eyes opened and he moaned.

“Jag! Jag, I’m so sorry.”

He sat up slowly, and I brushed the sand off his face and back.

“I don’t know why I keep comin’ back for more,” he said, his voice thick and slow. “You’re gonna kill me one day.”

I laughed. It came out shaky and much louder than necessary.

“That wasn’t a joke.”

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people in the dark,” I said, my attitude resurfacing.

“I thought you’d sense me.”

“I did, but I didn’t know it was you, I swear.”

“I thought we had, well . . .” He trailed off and stood up.

“We had what?”

He wouldn’t look at me, not that I could have seen his expression in the dark. “Nothing.” He threw the word over his shoulder as he stalked away.

I expected him to be mad. I didn’t know it wouldn’t be about getting tased.

As I followed him back to the fire, I came to the conclusion that boys are impossible to figure out. It seemed like everything I said or did was wrong.

Which reminded me of my mother. Nothing I did was ever good enough for her either.

Jag stood in front of Baldie, taking in the scene around the fire. “You did this? By yourself?” He looked at me and cocked one eyebrow.

I shrugged and rummaged through a backpack. I found a length of orange rope. When I turned, Jag was rifling through their food and supplies. I moved to tie up the fallen Greenies.

“Leave them,” Jag said. “We’re not staying.”

“What?” I asked, looking behind him where he’d put Baldie to sleep.

“Night is the best time to travel,” he said, dumping the contents of a backpack onto the ground. He threw two teleporter rings into the fire before gathering the rest of the tech and protein packets.

“Hey, those are teleporter rings,” I said. I still had Baldie’s in my pocket.

He looked up. “We’re walking. Seaside doesn’t allow unauthorized teleportation, and we don’t have time to contact the right people. Hell, I don’t even know who the right people are.” He straightened and shouldered his bag.

“You said we could sleep,” I complained, annoyed that I sounded like a three-year-old who wanted a sweet.

“We can,” he said, not bothering to look at me. “Later. It’ll take several days to get to Seaside on foot. We’ll have plenty of time to sleep.”

I wanted to scream, tell him how unfair he was. I wanted to tell him I hated him, but my voice wouldn’t allow the words to be spoken.

“You wouldn’t mean it anyway, Vi.” He spoke in his
tell-me-everything
voice and stepped toward me slowly, his eyes trained on mine.

Refusing to let him see me cry, I picked up my backpack and left.

Using the GPS on the phone, I found west and walked along the bank of the stream. I heard him behind me, but I didn’t wait because I didn’t care.

Jag caught up and fell into step beside me. He walked close enough to hold hands and far enough away that words could never repair the damage we’d done to each other.

We came to the edge of the ravine, and Jag said, “After you.”

Yeah, thanks,
I thought, eyeing the barely there land bridge with only darkness underneath. We’d have to go one at a time. Across the gorge lay the jagged landscape of the demilitarized zone.

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