(A/N: It's fitting that I write this chapter in the month of April. This one is for our protagonist. May she catch a break someday - but that wouldn't be fun, would it?)
Days pass. Weeks go by. One by one, the kids around me get abilities from the noise treatments. They marvel at them, envy the kids with the really cool abilities, even use their own to try to get their way. No one seems to be bothered that we haven't been rescued. Not that I'm surprised by that—at least, not for my sake. There's no one out there for me besides a mom who hadn't looked at me for years. I have no delusions about a cavalry showing up to save me.
But surely someone misses some of these kids here. Like the one named Alec. Everything about him, from the way he talks to the way he carries himself, says he comes from money. And the frizzy-haired girl he keeps looking at when he doesn't think anyone's watching. Willow. She's the warm and wholesome type that makes me think she has two parents out there who are probably doing everything in their power to find her.
And then there's Marcus. He's convinced all the kids in this place to treat him like he's some ruler, but I can't deny how impressive he is. He has the kind of compelling presence that would surely be missed if he suddenly disappeared from the lives of the people who knew him.
"Sick of his attitude," someone mutters darkly near me on the bleachers as I watch Marcus casually toss a basketball into the net.
The boy who said that, Jake, is quiet and unremarkable, much like myself.
"Jealous?" his friend, who is next to me, says. Tyler is his name. He's bony-skinny and has a face pockmarked by acne. I've heard enough stories about his acne struggles to give me a lifetime of queasiness.
"I don't want to be anything like him. Why would I ever want to be in the middle of their drama? All they ever do is brag and mess around and stab each other in the back. Life's so much easier when you just live quietly."
Tyler nods in agreement. "Life is easier this way. You don't have to kill yourself trying to do things to impress people."
"No chance of getting hurt if we mind our business."
"No one to bother us if we keep to ourselves."
"Just live and let live."
"And enjoy the peace and quiet. It's better this way." Tyler looks at me. "Right, April?"
I look out to where two girls are making their way over to Alec, who stops playing the friendly match and walks over to meet them halfway. One of the girls is the tall and beautiful Willow. The other is the only person who has rivaled Marcus's notoriety in the facility. I've never talked to her, but I've seen her in action enough times to know what she is: fearless and unapologetic and smarter than everyone else combined. It's no wonder Marcus is enamored.
But I know she's more than fearless, unapologetic, and smart. She's arrogant, too, like she thinks she's too good for everyone else. I've seen how she looks at people she thinks are beneath her. Like she can't wait to get away from them.
As the trio start talking, the basketball sails through the air and hits Rose in the back of the head. She swivels around to face Marcus, who holds his hands up in a gesture that's meant to be apologetic, but it doesn't work because he's too busy laughing at her.
"What is wrong with you?" Rose demands as she stalks over to him, her own hands fisted at her sides.
I watch them argue like I've seen a hundred times already and shake my head.
"Yeah," I say quietly. "It's better this way."
#
The first time I see the unfamiliar boy is during the lunch line. He grips my arm as I squeeze past him. My bowl of soup spills on my t-shirt and I jump back in surprise. But I don't say anything. I try to keep moving, but he stops me.
"I don't have much time," he says urgently. "Once he's stronger, I won't be able to come back."
"Excuse me," I mutter and try to shuffle past him again.
"April," he says urgently, but with a hard yank, I pull free and rush off.
"April!" the strange boy yells after me. "Wake up!"
I don't look back at him. I don't want to see him or to hear his voice. Something about him is disconcerting and disturbs the bubble of security around me. I don't like that.
People are looking at me, whispering shamelessly. My face grows heated. How dare he? How dare he try to take this away from me? This...this peace and quiet that I've worked hard to maintain. I resent him for it, but even then I find myself searching for him in the cafeteria when I make it to my corner. Then, as if the curiosity festers into an obsession, I look for him for days everywhere I go—in the bathroom stalls, in the kitchen in case he has kitchen duty, upstairs when kids flood out of their blocks in the morning.
I never find him. Instead, he finds me at the top of the stairs one afternoon, sitting by myself. I'm alone one moment, and then he pops out of nowhere next to me.
I start and shoot up to my feet. "Where did you come from?"
"April," he says in that rushed voice from before. "This place isn't real."
A laugh—of amusement? Bewilderment?—escapes my lips. "What? Of course, it's—"
"You have to wake up. Look at me!"
It's then I realize my eyes are looking everywhere except at him. I stare at his collarbone, my chest moving hard against a rising tide of panic.
I don't like this.
"Please. Please look at me."
His voice, in that hauntingly familiar southern drawl, cracks on that second please, and I finally look at him. He's a couple of inches taller than me and just as slender. He's wearing the same white t-shirt and gray sweatpants as the rest of us, but his are tattered and filthy. A round and innocent face, with ears that stick out endearingly from his reddish-brown hair. His dark eyes stare back at me earnestly as he waits for me to say something.
His name strikes through me like lightning. "Carson."
My eyes well up with tears. I throw my arms around him and pull him close, sobbing against his shoulder. "Carson! Oh my God, is it really you?"
"It's me." I feel him quaking with emotion. "You know me?"
"Of course, I know you." I pull back and search his face. "Where did you go?"
"The Ancient you were fighting with. He's the one who did this to me. Made me a Blank. He used a lot of power to seal you away here. I've been able to come here because he's slipping, but it won't last."
I furrow my eyebrows. "Ancient? Blank?"
"Oh, no." Carson grips my arms tightly. "April. You know this place isn't real, right? You gotta find a way out. You did it before. You saved us all, remember? You got us away from this place."
That doesn't sound like me. It sounds like...
"You have the wrong person. You should be talking to someone like Rose, not me."
"You are Rose."
The well-lit landing seems to be growing darker with each word he says. I back away from him, shaking my head. These uncomfortable feelings growing inside me—I don't want them. I don't want the memories threatening the walls of my fortress either. I was better off without this.
"You're wrong," I protest.
"The Ancient did this to you to keep you out of the way." He huffs a frustrated sigh and waves a hand in the air. "Look, it's all there inside you. You just gotta be brave enough to face it—"
He vanishes right before me.
I'm shocked. Not because he disappeared but because I'm not surprised that he did. Which means that Carson is right. All the answers are inside me. Some of these kids in here have spent months trying to find a way out, when I'm the only one who knows what's going on.
If I'm brave enough.
I sit on the top step and take a deep breath. Fine, then.
I close my eyes and open my mind to the memories. But all I get is more panic, so sharp and overwhelming that my body recoils viscerally. Shit. I can't just force my walls to disappear. I can't flip a switch and be someone I haven't been after what feels like so much time.
Because a part of me still wants to believe this is real. I'm stuck with one foot still lodged firmly in this place. How do I get unstuck?
The answer comes almost immediately.
I have to break the pattern.
So when the clock tells us that it's time to head upstairs and the kids start trickling into their blocks, I stay on the landing. The metal bracelet that I've barely noticed before suddenly feels tight around my wrist. Like it's warning me not to push my luck.
The others don't see me at first. But it's not long before they start noticing me just standing there, my body coiled so hard with tension it feels like my spine is going to snap. They're all watching me. The ones in power and those eking by, the sweet ones and the assholes, the ones I barely know and those that I do. Marcus, Alec, Willow, Janie, Camille, Rudolph, Eli—people whose familiarity grips me as if there is so much more to their stories than I can remember.
I expect mockery and derision from all of them, but they seem to hold their collective breaths. Like their very existence hinges on what I'm doing.
Tyler and Jake watch me from our block. "You don't have to do this," Tyler says in that gentle voice of his. "I know this place isn't easy, but it's better than what's waiting for us out there."
"April, please come inside," Jake chimes in.
Siren calls. Like the promise of a warm bed in a snowstorm. The temptation of pulling the covers over my head to shield myself against the world.
Carson's terrified eyes flashes through my head.
I turn my back to Tyler and Jake before I start walking toward them. That's when I spot Marcus in front of his own block. He's not standing inside the doorway. He's outside of it, just like me.
"What are you doing?" he asks me.
He sees me. My heart is beating dizzyingly fast. "This place isn't real. I have to find a way out."
I expect him to laugh at me like he's always laughing at Rose. Except he frowns and tilts his head slightly. "Why do you think it's not real?"
"Marcus!" Rose calls, her voice strong and clear where mine feels so small. "You have forty-five seconds before the bracelet zaps you. Come on!"
He doesn't move.
"A good friend of mine," I begin, "someone I trust with my life, told me that we've already escaped from here. What's happening now is all in my head."
"Thirty seconds!"
"Why is it in your head? What about me?"
I pause. He's right. How do I know I'm the only person who's real? "Then stay here with me, and you'll find out, too."
"Marcus, come on!" Rose sounds desperate now.
"Don't listen to her," I say. "She's not Rose. She's not real."
He down at his bracelet. He's afraid, and I don't blame him. I don't know what's real anymore, but the pain of the electric shock is imprinted so deeply that I'll never forget it.
There is mechanical whirring around us as the doors leading into the blocks begin to shut. Our bracelets beep. Fear flashes across Marcus's face and he takes a step toward his block, but I stop him with one hand.
"Trust me," I say, as though something deep in my gut knows that Marcus is as real as I am and we are in this together.
The doors slide closed, and the beeping stops. Dizziness suddenly rushes over me, and I squeeze my eyes against blinding bright green light. And then there's complete stillness, and with it comes this strong sense of assuredness, of who and what I am, unlike anything I've experienced in forever.
I open my eyes. The Ancient is standing in front of me. Around us are the Blanks, immobile as though they're spectating our final moments. The Ancient's hands dart out to grip my head between them, and I feel his attempts to push me under again. His power latches onto me like ropes binding my body. I fight to push him out, but it's no use. He's too strong.
Be smart, April. Don't fight him mind against mind. You have a weapon he can never match.
The switchblade. It's still gripped in my hand.
With a scream that seems almost unearthly, I use the last of my control to thrust my hand between us and bury the blade into his chest. The Ancient's power snaps immediately as he falls to the ground. Dark blood spreads across the white of his pristine clothes. He makes no noise as he writhes on the floor in the throes of death.
"You have made a mistake, child."
His voice is like the hiss of steam in my head.
"You have undone...everything."
The Ancient stops moving. The veins of darkness in the crystal walls become thicker, and the ground begins to shake again. Around us, Blanks stir to life. They scream as the Nexus shudders and run toward the nearest wall. To my enormous relief, they pass through it as if it's made of nothing more than smoke.
I search frantically for Marcus through the stampeding crowd and find him ten feet away. He's on his knees, his hands clutching the sides of his head. "Marcus! We have to get out. Come with me."
I help him to his feet and together, we stumble through the crystal wall and make it outside. There is no quaking out here. Just the screams and voices of hundreds of people, humans, streaming from the cave as they head toward safety. Marcus's body is weak and heavy, as though he's losing strength. I barely manage to maneuver us to a corner before his legs give out.
"Marcus?" I drop next to him and run my hands over him, checking for injuries. Did the Blanks get to him before I beat the Ancient? "What happened? Are you hurt?"
"Make it stop," he moans as he bends over and begins to rock back and forth. "Please. Make it stop."
His skin is cold and clammy. Something is wrong with him. I'm terrified, but I try to be strong for him. I wrap my arms around him and envelop him with my warmth. "It's okay—it's over. We made it. Open your eyes, baby. You're safe now."
He doesn't listen to me. Instead, he keeps mumbling the same phrase.
It's not real. It's not real.
Terror spears my chest.I managed to escape the facility again. But Marcus clearly never madeit out with me the second time.