Take Me Tomorrow

Chapter 15: If You Can Risk Me

"It's in ruins," she said when he quieted. "People are fighting every day just to survive there."

I winced because I didn't remember. I only recalled our shabby apartment. It was dirty but warm, and it had been home. My mother gave me baths. My father read to me before bedtime. They watched movies together at night. I remembered listening to them when I was trying to sleep one room over. Even though I searched my memory, I didn't have a deep recollection of the streets. Only crowds surfaced. Other than a train ride, I couldn't even remember fleeing. I had slept most of the time.

"Albany is horrible," Lyn continued as her nimble fingers hovered over the final stitches. "Your father saved you by getting you out of there, and your mother saved my son by getting me out."

"But no one thought the truth mattered to me," I snapped, my emotions taking over.

"You should be proud," Noah said, ignoring Lyn's warning once more. She tapped him again, but he pressed on, "The Albany Region fell into chaos because they saw freedom in their futures and they were willing to fight for it. They're still fighting for it. Tomo changed everything there first."

"Freedom?" I repeated. "From what?"

"From Phelps," my father answered. "This country didn't use to be this way, but people accepted it until they found hope again." He paused. "Tomo gave them that hope."

The information I knew was scarce. Originally, tomo had been created and distributed by the pharmacies as a helpful drug that aided takers with confidence. It battled depression. It prevented anxiety. It even, some claimed, stopped loneliness in its tracks. But it grew into something sinister—an accidental hallucinogenic when the dosage was increased. After people began using it recreationally, the fights began. It created those extremists. It destroyed. The Phelps Massacre killed too many, and the drug was outlawed.

"It's a drug," I said it as if I had to remind them of it. "It's just a hallucinogenic."

No one responded.

"Isn't it?" I squeaked.

"No," my dad said. "It's not."

"There's a reason people think 'tomo' means 'tomorrow,'" Broden added from the corner of the room. I'd nearly forgotten he was there, but I hadn't forgotten the nickname for tomo. Supposedly, users didn't think the visions were hallucinations. To them, it truly revealed the future, therefore giving users a better chance at dealing with it.

"We're not Phelps' enemy. The drug is," my dad explained. "He could blow a thousand of us up, but he still wouldn't have won. Not as long as this drug gives people hope. As soon as he can destroy that, he's destroyed us."

Tomo was the freedom from Phelps and all of his control.

"A war is happening," Lyn agreed, her dark eyes shining. "And if we're going to win this war, people like your father are vital for our success."

"Let me guess," I continued sarcastically, "transporting teenage boys is vital to our success too."

"Sophia Elizabeth Gray." My father warned me to leave Noah's situation out of the argument. 

Noah rebelliously smiled. "I returned for a reason, Sophie," he said, stirring my annoyance with his light-hearted attitude. "I was originally from here."

"I got that part," I said, "but you have yet to explain."

Noah didn't move until Lyn sprayed the final glue on top of the stitches and told him he was free in the form of a nod. Noah hovered his hand over them, but Lyn smacked his fingers away. "Don't touch them," she warned.