Survived (Revived, #2) by Jodie Kobe
~~~
The cell room grows dark after a few hours and I realize there is a window by the building’s exit. The girl and I barely exchange any words. I sit in my corner and stare at the ground.
I can’t think of a plan to get out of here. I can’t talk to anybody because they would rather talk to themselves. The only thing I can do is close my eyes and sleep.
The ground is hard and cold, and the sandbag I'm using isn't exactly comfortable either. Everyone else has fallen asleep, even the girl. She's spread out on the cold floor, her hands over her face.
The constant sound of dripping water echoes throughout the room. I’ve been staring at a spot on the floor for a while now, my mind completely blank.
Someone mumbles, but I don't move. The girl stirs, but remains asleep.
I let out a breath and stretch my legs out, leaning farther into the corner I’m at. I should try to sleep.
My eyelids fall shut, and I wait, placing my cold hands over my eyes. An itch starts along my back, but I ignore it, turning over on my side.
The sound of dripping water and the snoring puts me to sleep.
I’m walking in the middle of nothingness...but then, a strange sound starts. A scratching. More like a concrete object against another concrete object. I spin around, trying to locate the source of the sound. All I see is an endless field. Then, soft whispering, almost inaudible. I catch a quick word. “...leave...”
What’s going on?
A crunch of footsteps wakes me.
I pry my eyes wide open and notice that it’s still nighttime. But the room has brightened.
I turn my head to the source of the small light and nearly freeze.
The girl is gone.
And right in the wall I’m leaning against, is a hole, big enough for a girl—the girl—to fit through.
She escaped with someone.
And I can escape right along with her.
My heart rate picks up as I pull myself to my feet. My eye is on the hole in wall the entire time.
The wall is made of bricks. They've been pulled out, but how? But happened to the person the girl had been trying to signal? Are they part of this?
I pat my pockets, trying to find the plastic knife from earlier. It's not there, and I can't be sure if the girl took it. I look around the room, trying to locate any white objects in the cell. There's nothing.
I need to forget about the knife and leave. How much damage would I be able to do with it anyway?
I peek through the hole in the wall, relieved to see it leads outside. There are no guards, no dogs, no alarms.
I glance behind me, at all the sleeping people.
They should be able to get out too, but I can’t wake them up right now. They’ll just make too much noise. And I have no way to free them.
I bring one of my legs out, still bracing myself for a shout from a guard. But it's silent.
This is my chance to get out, and I’m taking that chance.
CHAPTER 5
R I A N
“Careful with that box, Callum,” Dr. Dara Janelle says as soon as I step into the room. She has her back to me, so I'm not sure how she knows I'm the one standing at the doorway.
My hands fumble to fix the position of the metal box I'm holding. “I am careful,” I mumble.
Her head turns to me, and in a sing-songy voice (a tone I've never heard her use before), she says, “Oh I don’t think so.” With her head, she gestures to the only desk in the room. Her voice is back to normal as she adds, “Set it there.”
A grunt of understanding will do from me. The walk to the table is quick, and I use it to get a good stretch on my legs. As gingerly as I can, I lower the heavy box onto the desk, grimacing.
Janelle's still searching through the cabinet in front of her instead of giving her attention to the new box in the room. She takes her time, unlike most people living in this underground complex.
I'm still confused on what Janelle thinks of me. Her first impression wasn't at all that good, and I admit, mine was not either. The first day I met her, she ignored me, even when I attempted to ask her simple questions.
“What’s inside?” I ask her.
She pulls out a file from the cabinet. “Paper,” she says. Her heels click with every step she takes toward me. She halts in front of me. The heels she's wearing don't increase her height enough to tower over me. I look down at her as she hands me the file. I open it, only to see it’s empty.
“I thought we didn’t have paper—” I start.
“It’s special paper,” she interrupts. “And yes, we had paper. A large amount of it. Most of it was used up, but there are leftovers.” Her shoes clatter against the tile as she heads back to the cabinet to continue with her work.
“You didn’t exactly tell me what I’m supposed to be doing,” I say, turning to the metal box. There is no lid screaming at me to pop it open. I knock on the cube, surprised by the hollow sound. Isn't something supposed to be in there?
“Lose the unnecessary items” is all she says, examining the cabinet.
I'm not sure what sort of things she calls necessary, but I don’t say anything. My goal to find the box's lid is more important.
“Are you sure this is the right box?” I ask.
She doesn’t look up from her work as she says, “Of course it’s the right box. What’s the matter, Callum, can’t open it?” A smirk is visible on her face.
“Of course I can’t open it,” I say loudly, hand slapping the top of the metal box.
Before Janelle can respond, she's interrupted by one loud beep, followed by a female voice above us. “Dr. Janelle?”
Janelle’s head snaps to the ceiling and she calls out, “Yes?”
The female voice continues. “There’s something quite vital you need to view.”
Janelle casts me a look and I start wondering if I’m invited to wherever she’s being called to.
“Where exactly is this vital thing located?” Janelle keeps her gaze on the ceiling.
The voice from the speaker answers with “Computer Records.”
Janelle clicks her tongue. “Is this so important that we need to postpone packing?”
I'm leaning more toward finding out what's happened rather than struggling with a box that has no lid. We have time to pack this room later. In fact, we have months.
We're supposed to be gathering the important items because the plan to head outside has been made. When we're going to launch it, I don’t know, and I don't want to take a guess.
The machine Fox and I...and Vivian...set up half a year ago worked, surprisingly. It fulfilled its purpose of pulling toxins out of the natural air quicker than expected.
But as much as I hate to say it, I'm reluctant to head outside. Sure I was excited a couple of months ago, but we have adapted to the air down here. How different is the air out there?
“It’s quite important, Dr. Janelle,” the female voice from the ceiling says.
Janelle casts a glance at me, her mouth a thin line on her face. She rubs her chin, then asks, “Is Callum allowed to accompany me?”
“Mr. Callum is permitted to come,” the voice says.
Janelle is practically running, but I don’t have a hard time catching up. What surprises me is that she has not yet broken her ankle from those heels of hers.
The intercom told us to go to the Computer Records room. I’ve heard of it but was never allowed to access it.
I follow Janelle down the vast, white hallway. The bright lights still make my eyes sting. I always squint.
Hundreds of white doors line the walls of the large hallway. White is the dominate color in this building, but I have never been told why that is.
Our life takes place underground. There are no windows here to know what time of day it is. We always trust the clocks, but I'm not sure how accurate they are to the original ones years ago.
I've always been fascinated with the history of the building. There used to be only one room, or s
We've lived down here for years, and the shelter has been protecting us from the radiation and toxic air outside.
Janelle and I come to a stop at a door. Right before Janelle can lift her hand to knock, the door slides open. A man dressed in a white lab coat welcomes us inside.
The Computer Records room is large. It’s filled with machines and bright screens. I immediately notice a large crowd gathered together in a corner.
Janelle pushes past the crowd of people with me behind her. As I get toward the middle, I see that they're all huddled around a computer screen. A few numbers flash in and out on a black screen, but I don’t understand what they mean. I try to move closer but the people Janelle has pushed out of the way merge together again before I can reach the deepest part of the crowd.
I squeeze my way through, earning a couple of confused looks from some. Then I'm standing right behind the main man at the computer screen.
What I think are numbers appear to be stationary green dots. About fifteen of them. They’re all huddled in the top corner of the screen. Strangely, there’s another green dot, isolated from the ones in the group. It has positioned itself on the other side of the computer screen.
I narrow my eyes. “What do they mean?” I ask, referring to the dots.
The man sitting at the computer taps the lonely green dot on the screen. “That’s one of our people,” he says. “Dead people. The ones who die have no use for us, so they're tossed using an elevator that we use to bring them outside.” The man continues tapping the screen, faster now. “There are hundreds of people laying dead over here.” He uses his finger to circle the area around the fifteen green dots. Then he gestures to the lonely green dot again. “This one moved even though it was pronounced dead.” The man turns his chair to face me. “Rian, do you remember how you, Fox, and Vivian received trackers right before that mission several months ago?”
I nod, trying to get Vivian out of my head.
The man continues. “We gave them to you so we would be able to track you while you were outside.”
I nod again.
“Well, Mr. Callum. We kept Vivian’s mission tracker on, but the one that helps us track her inside this building was removed. Right now, this computer is telling us she moved from where we tossed her.”
My mouth nearly drops open. I point to the lonely dot on the screen. “That’s Vivian?”
The man nods. “The dead can’t just stand up and walk by themselves. Someone moved her.”
CHAPTER 6
V I V I A N
My source of light is the moon and the stars.
The cold of the night messes up my thoughts, blurring everything together until I can't figure out where I want to go. There's still the choice of returning to the cell, but by now I'm not even looking back at it.
There's barely anyone here. It's like the town shuts down completely at night. The people are holed up in their houses, probably sleeping more soundly than I can ever sleep. No one's keeping watch. Aren't they afraid of enemies.
Maybe there are no enemies. But who exactly is the enemy? Am I? Are the prisoners?
I peek around the corner of a building, still trying to be on the lookout for anybody. It doesn't matter how deserted this place looks right now, I won't try to be reckless. Try to.
The girl and whomever she escape with should have gotten far by now. So what do I expect to find?
I move through the grass carefully, looking around. Nobody’s on the ground or the roof. If someone is watching me through their window, I will never know.
I pass through an alley and jog across a street. There’s a circular shape glowing in the sky. If I remember correctly, it's called a moon. A piece of it is missing, almost as if some enormous monster has bitten it in half perfectly. The moon's surface is covered in dark spots, but I can't really tell what they are supposed to be. The strange thing is, this moon is bigger than I remember it being, almost like it's closer to us.
Sudden red smoke catches my eye. I turn my head in its direction, tracing it behind several buildings. It's not too far away. Is it sending some kind of signal?
The smoke started just a second ago. Someone's there, standing and waiting. But for what?
What if it's that girl? I break into a slow jog, not actually wanting to get close to the smoke, but maybe only stand a safe distance away from it.
The night is still quiet. Maybe the smoke is not a threat. The whole town would have woken up, that is if the citizens get informed of anything that goes on here. It's not coming from a fire, because it would have been gray, not red.
I make my steps as light as possible when I continue toward the smoke. I get closer, listening to my heart hammering in my chest. I don’t know who’s waiting.
Then I start hearing voices, not coming from the location of the red smoke, but from somewhere behind me.
I hurry into the closest alley and press myself against the cold brick wall. My face forms a cringe when I feel that my hiding spot is wet. I like to believe it's just rain.
The voices get louder but the owners are nowhere in sight. I pick up a few words.
“Can’t wait to see who started this,” one of the voices says. It sounds male.
The man with him replies. “Yeah, whatever. Let’s just get going.” The voice is very familiar. It sounds exactly like that male guard’s from before, the one who accompanied Denham when I first met him.
The voices stop suddenly and I freeze, afraid I might have been spotted. No longer are there any footsteps.
I sidle farther into the alley, still pressing myself against the wall. They’re not going to come this way, I tell myself. They’re heading for the smoke.
I wait, but no one comes this way. There are no more voices or footsteps. It’s as if the guards left.
Very slowly, I head toward the exit of the alley. turning my head to look around. Nobody’s here. It’s silent. So they did leave. But how did they do it so quietly—?
There’s a flash of black out of my peripheral vision and something strikes my shoulder, hard. My knees buckle, and I collapse onto the ground, my hand clutching the shoulder that was hit. I groan and turn over onto my back, looking at whoever is behind me. There are two men.
One is the male guard that had accompanied Denham, while the other is unknown.
“She’s still conscious, Sorv,” the unfamiliar one says, pulling something black out of his holster. A gun. He aims it at me. All I can do is stare at it.
The guard who I catch is named Sorv slaps the gun down. “We don’t need to shoot her. Put your weapon away.” He turns to me and yanks me to my feet. “On your feet, runaway,” he spits at me. “How’d you get out?” He pushes me forward, but I don't answer.
No, no, no. I’m not going back to my cell.
I try to tug my arm away, but he doesn’t let go. The other man raises his gun again but doesn't fully point it at me.
I stop struggling. It won’t do me any good. A bullet could be put into my head any second.
We cross a street and I take one last glance at the red smoke before we head into another alley. The smoke disappears from my view, but I have other things to worry about. There are puddles of water ahead of us. The guards stomp through it without difficulty, pulling me along, while I cringe with every step. The water’s freezing, stinging my feet.
Two shots ring through the air, and I snap my head around, trying to find the source. The shots didn't come from the guards' weapons.
They came from the roof.
Sorv spins around, loosening his grip on my arms for a few seconds. I know I can take this chance to run, but I know I won’t make it anywhere.
“Where did that come from?” Sorv calls out, looking up at the building’s roof.
Two more gunshots ring out, this time somewhere behind us. I gasp and twist around. A man blocks
I whimper and snatch his gun off the floor, aiming for one of the men blocking my exit. Fear takes over me as I realize I don't know how to shoot. Is the safety on?
The gun is knocked from my hand as soon as a shadow passes over my face. Both of my arms are grabbed and pulled back, but not too hard to hurt.
“Don’t shoot,” a low voice says. “We’re not here to hurt you.” He waves at the building’s roof, and I hold my breath as I see someone swiftly climb down using the window sills. They land on the ground in front of me.
It’s the girl. The same one who shared the cell with me.
The man holding me loosens his grip on my arms, but not enough for me to wiggle out. He nods at the girl, who nods back with a smile on her face. She turns to me.
“Hello there,” she starts, almost snorting. “So glad you chose to join us.”
CHAPTER 7
V I V I A N
“Are you the one who set up the smoke?” I ask.
The guy who’s holding me back tightens his grip on my arms and pulls me away from her.
The girl shakes her head to answer my question. “It was someone else.”
“Were they trying to signal someone?” I tug on my arms again, wishing the guy holding them back would let go. If I tell him I won’t run or hurt anyone, I doubt he would believe me. But what are they going to do to me?
The girl's eyes move to the guy behind me. With a nod from her, my arms are let go. My feet increase the distance between the three strangers, but I don't wander far. I rub my wrists, mostly because I need to occupy my hands somehow. Are there any more people watching from the rooftops?
“Who are you?” I ask, studying all three of them. Their outfits are identical, gray pants along with a gray shirt. The outfits fit perfectly over their bodies, not at all appearing to be baggy and worn-out.
All three of them exchange glances with each other, and the girl answers with, “We’re nobody you’re familiar with. But...if you need names…” She glances at both of the guys next to her and pauses mid-sentence, thinking something over. She puts one of her hands on her hip, tilting her head to the side. “If you want names, we need to hear yours first.”