The Luminosity Series (Book 1): Luminosity (8 page)

It
wasn’t until later that evening I broke out of my despair. I whipped my head
around, the wind howling through the open window. The implosion of particles pierced
through the quiet room, splitting the vase into pieces on the floor behind me.
Eager to stop the gusts, I yanked back the curtains to slam the window shut.
Upon looking up at the darkening sky, vertigo took me. I blinked, regaining my
balance before
kneeling down to pick up the
fragments scattered across the floor of the small hospital room—a space not
much different than the one I recovered in after the accident. But before I
could dispose of the broken glass, my wooziness returned. Shaky, brutal images
raced through my memory from that night—my windshield cracked, the microscopic
shards poking into my skin as Evan screamed my name. I wanted to wipe that
night from my memory for good, but I couldn’t.

I
stumbled backward against the floor, retrieving my breath. Then, adding to my
disarray, the lights in the hallway flickered.

Within
seconds, rapid chatter and footsteps rattled the floor. Between the gleams of
light, nurses and volunteers scrambled in every direction. In the darkness, a
red alarm flashed near the exit doors. My heart dropped as I shot up from the
floor. Around me, panicked voices and cries of hospital patients rung in my
ear. Newborns wailed from a few rooms away, the faint scream of a siren from
far-off penetrating the windows as dirt and debris scratched up against the
glass. Only when I cusped my hands against it could I see what was happening
outside. In the distance, a sharp beam circled through the dusty air, guiding
and signaling soldiers out of their watchtowers to prepare for an incoming
windstorm. The beacon radiated through the window as it passed, blinding me in
a lucent wave. And without warning, the lights went dark from one angle of the
hall to the other in a domino effect. Then, the gleam of a flashlight stung my
eyes.

“Miss!
Get into position, now! We will evacuate you into the vault once the staircases
have cleared!” the guard demanded as he pushed me into the hallway. My body
collided against the floor after I plunged forward, failing to catch myself. I
recoiled from the pain as I crouched down next to the rest of the startled nursing
staff along the wall. Guards gathered in the center of the hallway, equipped
with their rifles ready. I gulped back the air as I squinted my eyes, placing
my hands behind my collar.

“There’s
been a breach! Get them underground, now!” one of the guards yelled. I leaned
my head back up. The only thing lighting up the halls now was the dim glow of
the swirling auroras coming through the windows. With the wind, they spiraled
in the sky like vortexes, reflecting through the glass.

After
five minutes of enduring shouts, sirens, and howling blasts, I was pulled to my
feet by a guard. I fought to catch my breath again, looking in every direction
as we evacuated to the fully occupied staircase that led into the basement. Desperate
cries came from the opposite direction. Fear for the infants took over me in an
instant. And once the guard was out of sight, I spun around to face the girl
behind me.

“What
should we do about the newborns?” I asked within the continual chaos. Her face
froze in distress as she stood there, ignoring me, as if she were incapacitated.
“Hey! Isn’t someone going to do something?” My eyes widened as her silent fear
persisted.

“It’s
not up to us,” she answered carefully, nodding to the guards in annoyance.

“Somebody
has to help them. We can’t leave them up here if their lives are endangered.”
The girl looked furious.

“And
if you think you’re the one to do it, you’re crazy. You disobey their commands,
you’ll end up just like your mother,” she said.

“What
did you say to me?” I gave her a surprised glare.

“Everyone
here knows who you are, Aubrey. Your mother’s reputation isn’t something the
people here have forgotten,” she said.

“Who
are you?” But before she answered, I caught her piercing glimmer of dread
again. Her hair resembled the color of hazelnut, a caramel brown with golden
tones that shined within the flashlights of an approaching soldier.

“Turn
around,” she snapped in a hush whisper.

“This
row, into the stairwell!” the guard ordered as the front of our line shuffled
forward.

After
descending five flights of stairs, we worked our way through a narrow corridor
that led to a steel door resembling a bank vault. The cement walls housed a
series of battery-powered lights, keeping the room visible to our unadjusted
eyes. Between them, several slots opened into bunk beds, and beside the bunks
were an array of lockers filled with food, water, and blankets. The sight of it
made me panic as I contemplated how long we might be stuck down here.

Near
the entrance, a red light was blinking, signifying there was an emergency.
Above it was a green bulb, dark and unlit. Only then did it make sense to me.
This was an underground evacuation bunker, built by our very own military to
serve as a temporary distress room during emergencies.

“Alright,
listen up! You will stay here until we receive the safety command to release
you. There’s been a security breach at the border, most likely triggered from
the storm, but we must obey protocol. Many of our town’s back-up generators
have failed, so as a necessary precaution, we will remain in lockdown until the
wind dies down and we can secure the perimeter. In the meantime, keep calm and
get comfortable. You might be here for a while,” a soldier yelled, standing in
the murky shadows of the doorway. A series of groans came from the hospital
staff. I attempted a head count, but amidst the shadows, it was impossible. And
of all the people around me, I didn’t recognize a soul.

I
let out a heavy breath as I dropped my shoulders, squeezing my way through
crowds of rattled workers. Most of them appeared calmer now, but were still
shaken by the sudden turn of events. Outraged, I recalled the infants left
upstairs. The hospital’s lack of concern repulsed me. And not even the
slightest bit of resentment showed on the other nurse’s faces, which made it
even worse.

After
making it to an open corner, I leaned my back up against the cool, dark wall. I
stared into the emptiness past my feet. But just as I closed my eyes to the
commotion, a shadow of a girl came rushing toward me. And before I could
recognize her, her quavering voice spoke my name.

“Aubrey!
Is that you?”

Before
me stood Janelle, once my best friend. Her familiar hazel eyes were hidden in the
dim light, but her wavy auburn hair cascaded against her porcelain skin,
exposing her identity. Before the collapse, Janelle wasn’t like most girls. She
was rebellious in her own way, often using her own quirkiness as an excuse to
challenge the status quo. But she never let her oppositions bring her down.
Now, I wasn’t sure how much would be left of her.

“Janelle?”
Relief rushed onto my face before she even had to answer.
And when I stood up from the wall, I reached out and
gave her a hug, holding back tears.

“I
heard the rumors about you being back, but I didn’t believe them. I’ve been
trying to find you ever since, but I rarely get assigned night duty. How are
you?” She wiped a tear as she smiled. After the relief passed, it took a few moments
to finally accept it was actually her. After the announcement, I assumed I’d
never see her again. I assumed she’d try to escape.

“I’m—I’m
okay, I guess. How about you?” But I was shaken by the concerned chatter
surrounding me.

“I’m
fine, but it sure is nice to know you’re still alive. Rumor has it things got
pretty wild in other cities. I wasn’t sure if you were okay. What happened to
you? How’s your mom?” she asked.

“Nothing.
And I don’t want to talk about her. Not here.” I shook my head, wishing I
hadn’t sounded so blunt.

“Don’t
worry. It was rough for everybody when we first started labor duty. It isn’t
easy getting used to seeing what we see here. And as much as I’d like to forget
this place, I don’t think I ever will,” Janelle said.

“Apparently
people haven’t forgotten my mother either.” I glared at the other whispering
nurses across from us. Janelle sighed.

“Don’t
mind them. It wasn’t up to them to decide how she was punished,” she said.

“Punished?
She didn’t need to be punished. She was already on the chopping block,” I
snapped.

Just
then, Janelle glanced toward the girl who stood ahead of me in line upstairs,
her cold eyes staring back at us.

“Do
you work with that girl or something?” I asked. Janelle looked back cautiously
and took a deep breath before replying.

“That’s
Evan’s cousin, Kylie.”

“What?
I thought the rest of his family lived in Boulder?”

“They
do. But she’s been here ever since last year. Apparently he has another cousin
who is in town staying with him too. They were transfers like you.”

“So…
Evan’s still here?” I asked with swollen eyes. Janelle nodded in hesitation.

“You
didn’t know?”

“No…
I haven’t—I haven’t been out much since I’ve been here,” I said in a cringe.

“Yeah,
he’s living at his dad’s old place,” she said. “Something horrible must’ve
happened with his mother. He doesn’t speak to her anymore, even now with what’s
happening. It’s just sad. They had some sort of falling out, and no one knows
why. Kylie doesn’t get it either. And he won’t talk to anyone about it. You
know how guys are.” She raised an eyebrow.

“Well,
you must have an idea…” I said curiously.

“I
think she tried to sway him into transferring to Boulder where the rest of his
family lives. But Evan wouldn’t leave. Not after his father was buried here…”

“No,
I—I guess not. How’s he doing otherwise?” I asked.

“He’s
good. I mean, whatever good means. Right?”

“Is
he a guard now?” I asked.

“No…”
Janelle’s voice tapered off. “He chose to work at the supply fields instead.”
Her focus fell to the floor. And with that, my heart skipped a beat.

“What?
Why?” My eyes were wide.

“I
think he was afraid of being deployed to another territory. He’s had a hard
time coping, Aubrey. A lot of his friends who used to be here are gone,” she
said.

“Who
else is left?”

“Me,
Aaron, Jake…and if you want to count Evan’s cousins…” she said.

“What
are
they
doing for labor duty?” I asked.

“Aaron
is with border patrol at the perimeter most of the time, but his duties change
according to their command. Luckily he wasn’t on duty tonight or I’d be worried
sick,” she sighed. “Jake got temporarily suspended of his benefits. I guess
because of his depression. And Evan’s cousin Nick is laboring at the fields.” I
was unsure of what to say next. “You expected something different?”

“I’m
just surprised Evan didn’t enlist…” I blinked.

“Same
here. He could’ve worked with Aaron. But Jake’s issues got between them. After this
all started, Jake was a wreck. And he still is… that’s why it’s impossible to
trust him not to rat us out.” Janelle’s face tightened, and I could see she
regretted her words.

“Rat
you out about what?” I asked. Janelle looked both ways before her expression
narrowed with fear. She sighed as she closed her eyes and reopened them.

“Okay,
look, if I tell you, you have to promise you’ll keep this a secret,” she said
in a breathy whisper, scouting out Kylie, who was now preparing her bunk.

“Okay,
I swear…” I hesitated, curiosity and alarm getting the better of me.

“Follow
me…” she said into my ear.

Janelle
led me through the crowd of nurses, who were now distracted. Their commotion
served as a convenient diversion from the guards who assisted them in providing
supplies. We watched tentatively over our shoulders as we slithered to a nearby
wall, aiming toward another door. She scanned her security badge. The door
clicked, signaling it had been unlocked. Aware of the guard’s preoccupation, we
snuck through the doorway unnoticed.

Inside
was a large supply area, stocked with boxes of food neatly labeled. After
closing the door, she grabbed my arm, leading me to the far corner where she
pulled me to the floor, sitting against the shelves. The room was dark, only
lit by the scarlet lights still blazing against the walls.

“What
is this about?” I asked. But when I glimpsed at her through the flared glow,
she stared straight in front of her.

“There’s
a place that runs outside the border that no one else knows about. There’s a
path we take that leads to the old campground we used to hang out at. It’s easy
to get to, and entirely secret. I’ve seen it,” she said, blinking hard. Seconds
passed before I spoke again.

“What?
Are you crazy?”

“Shh.
Be quiet,” she whispered in annoyance. I blinked in horror. Getting caught past
the border was the highest form of insubordination, often resulting in death or
oppression in the prison camps.