Collide (Entangled Teen) (The Taking Book 3) Read online

  I spend the next hour trying to teach them how to nourish the land, how to grow fruits and vegetables so they can survive, though I know most of them will never master the skill. It took months for me to learn, Vill even longer. Still, I have to give them something. A part of me wants to teach them to fight, too, to give them that extra layer of hope, but they aren’t the fighters in this war. We are.

  And it’s time we move on to the next base. Time to finish our plan.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It takes us a surprisingly short amount of time to reach the northwest base. I spent an hour when we returned to the West Coast base questioning every Operative we’d turned, and while some of their thoughts made me uneasy, nothing suggested any of them would hurt a human being, least of all little Lucy. Now, an Ancient? That’s another story all together, but there was no convincing them of the wrongness of their ideals. I just hoped they could and would differentiate between the Ancients sent here to hurt us and the ones already here who just want to coexist peacefully.

  The temperature is noticeably colder here, and I wish I’d brought more clothes. In Sydia, the temperature rarely drops below forty degrees, and I never experienced a cold day in Loge. This has to be closer to twenty, and I shiver beneath my thin jacket as we glide down the autowalk to the base. It’s startling how different it is from the West Coast. No dirt road. No ghost town. This is like a tiny model of Sydia, all composite steel and harsh lines.

  The base itself is a tall building, like Parliament headquarters, stretching high to the sky, and there are no other buildings around it, only a few patches of composite trees. We stop in front of a tall steel door. Myers presses a button on a call box, and immediately a female voice says, “Lead Op Myers?”

  Myers backs up and stares at a tiny triangular camera in the corner of the entryway. “It’s me, Naomi, you can let us in.”

  The door slides open to another autowalk that leads into the building. A tall woman steps out from around a corner, her hair white blond and her features etched with lines that have less to do with age and more to do with exhaustion. She nods to each of us, then speaks directly to Myers. “What brings you here? No one from Sydia mentioned your arrival. Was this last-minute?” She says all this so fast that I wonder why she’s so on edge. Maybe she’s always on edge, just one of those people that can never release the tension in their shoulders. Like Dad.

  “Kelvin Lancaster sent us. You weren’t informed?” Dad asks, and Naomi’s eyes widen.

  “Commander Alexander? Are you…?”

  Dad nods, and we spend the next ten minutes explaining to Naomi what we’ve done and why and what we suspect will happen next. She listens with only the occasional nod, and then paces around once we’re done, eyeing us like she’s seeing us for the first time.

  “So, you’re Ancient now?” Naomi asks, eyeing Myers.

  “No,” he says. “I still consider myself human. I just have Ancient xylem in my body, too. A half-breed.”

  “And what about him?” She motions to Jackson.

  “Jackson’s mother is President Cartier,” I say, causing Myers to spin around and look at me.

  “What? Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  “Because it wasn’t relevant. It is now. He’s half Ancient, half human, technically. You can trust him. And me,” I say to Naomi.

  “And the other two?” Naomi asks.

  “Vill is full Ancient, Gretchen full human. My dad is a half-breed like the rest of us.”

  Naomi releases a slow breath, and I feel her thoughts hitting my own, one after the other. She’s not as sure as the other Ops back on the West Coast base. She’s more of a follower than a rebel, and I worry that we’ve made a terrible decision coming there. What if she sends a warning to Kelvin and he bombs the West Coast base, killing everyone at once?

  “I understand your hesitation, Naomi,” I say. “But you’ll likely die if you don’t consider what we’re offering.”

  She cocks her head. “I would rather die as human than live as an Ancient. I’m a strong fighter. I don’t need xylem in me to survive.”

  “Naomi…” Myers starts, but I cut him off.

  “Oh, really?” I lunge forward, sweeping her feet so her head slams hard on the floor, and then I’m over her, my face in her face, my gun pressed into her forehead. “Bang,” I say.

  “Ari, what in the verse?” Myers goes for me, but Jackson holds him back easily.

  “You’re a strong fighter, huh? You don’t need xylem? Well, I just shot you before you were even aware that I was in motion. I understand your hesitation, and I can appreciate your loyalty to humankind, but there will be no humankind if we don’t rally together.”

  Naomi pushes the gun out of her face, and I help her stand, even though I still feel the bitterness of her words. She considers me. “Are all Ancients as fast as you?”

  “He’s faster,” I say, nodding toward Jackson.

  She eyes Jackson. “Somehow I think that’s debatable.”

  “You would be right,” Jackson says.

  Naomi tilts her head to the side until her neck cracks, then turns it the other way and cracks it again. “Why don’t I show you around?”

  I release a breath. “That would be great.”

  We step onto another autowalk that leads through the center of the building, appearing as though it dead-ends at a blank wall on the opposite side, but when we reach the wall, a set of elevator doors opens up, and Naomi waits as we step inside. I’m immediately on edge. I don’t know Naomi and from the look on her face, she hasn’t quite decided whether she wants me as her friend or her enemy. I stare at my reflection in the steel as the doors close, at the way my eyes are narrowed even though I’m not looking at anyone. At how my back is pin straight, but my arms are relaxed at my side—poised to fight. I wonder if I always look this way, if I ever look relaxed…happy.

  Jackson shifts beside me, his eye catching mine in the reflection, and he smiles just a bit, letting me know that he knows just what I was thinking. I briefly play out the arrogant remark he has ready to toss at me, when the doors ping open. We step out onto a narrow ledge that can barely hold all of us, overlooking what appears to be a factory. Sounds of machinery make it difficult to hear, but I can see rows and rows of conveyor belts and countless workers positioned every few feet, their hands working feverishly at whatever stops in front of them. I edge closer, and Myers grips my arm.

  “You don’t want to do that.” He points over the ledge. “It’s a straight fall and that railing’s been known to buckle under even the smallest of weight.”

  “Haven’t you been listening?” I say. “That drop is nothing for me. Nothing for you. You have to forget your limitations as human and embrace your strengths as Ancient. Otherwise you’ll never become the soldiers we need you to be.”

  Myers smirks. “Look, rebel, I get the heightened ability thing, but that fall—”

  And then before he can finish, I leap over the railing and free-fall down two stories to the floor below. I land in a catlike pose, my knees bent, my arms out to steady me, and spin around. “You were saying?”

  He shakes his head with a laugh. “You really are fearless, aren’t you?”

  I straighten and peer up at Jackson. “I have to be.”

  The others make it down to greet me, and already a crowd has begun to form around us. My stunt, while intended to prove a point—okay, and wipe that smirk from Myers’s face—has instead sparked unwanted curiosity. These people aren’t fighters. They’re laborers. In Sydia, they would have all lived in Landings, barely surviving.

  I curse myself for being so reckless. “I’m sorry,” I say to Naomi.

  She shrugs. “Don’t apologize. You just convinced me to join you.”

  “Oh?” I ask.

  She licks her lip like she needs something to do before speaking. “You overpowered me in a second. You leaped off a two-story platform. All without breaking a sweat or losing your breath. I don’t like what this m
eans, joining forces with the enemy, but maybe it’s not about sides. Maybe it’s about the best people—the best kind—surviving. Maybe it’s about the birth of a new species, one that isn’t so fixated on other and is more focused on the best life for all.”

  My opinion of Naomi softens. That’s the thing about Operatives, we’re trained to survive and protect above all else. That training works in our favor here. An Op, a true Op, can’t argue with what xylem can do for us—for our purpose in this world, this war.

  “I apologize for our outlandish entry,” Naomi says, addressing the group. She introduces each of us. “Most of them are what we are calling half-breeds—half human, half Ancient.”

  Whispers start up through the laborers, though none of them are bold enough to speak out. “As you know, war is upon us, and to win we feel we must give ourselves every possible advantage. We have to align ourselves with the enemy’s strengths to come out on top. For that reason, I have asked that Ari heal me, and I am giving each of you that same opportunity.”

  The whispers become full-out conversations, some to each other, others speaking out to no one in particular. They ask every question. Think every worry. So much so that I begin to confuse the two, the outspoken questions with the silent worries. Finally, Myers whistles loudly, and everyone goes silent. “We are happy to answer all of your questions, but we have two more bases to hit and time is running out, so please, let’s keep this orderly.”

  I turn on him. “Two? I thought the northeast base was the last.”

  He shakes his head. “No. There’s one in Sydia. Didn’t your father ever tell you?” He eyes Dad uncomfortably.

  “Do you mean the Engineer building?”

  “No,” Dad says. “There is a base outside the airport, Ari. You were still in school and still a Pre-Op when you left. The information was classified.”

  Suddenly, it all makes sense. That’s how the Ops arrived so quickly when we invaded the execution chamber. They were right there the whole time. How could I not have known?

  “Has the base always been there?” I ask them.

  “The Chemists built it several years ago,” Dad says.

  I nod, feeling as though I’m missing something. Why would the base be in the woods, of all places?

  “It was actually one of Kelvin’s first creations as Lead Chemist. It’s belowground, virtually invisible from above thanks to a simulation that looks and feels like the forest bed. You wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. No human would.”

  No human would. Why does that phrase feel so important?

  “Ari?” Gretchen nudges me.

  “Sorry, what?”

  She nods forward, and I glance up to see the factory workers have separated, a crowd far away and a crowd near.

  “These people would like for you to heal them,” Myers says, gesturing to the closest group.

  I study each of them. “But what about the Ops here? Where are they?”

  Naomi cocks her head. “Ops? There are no Ops at this base now. Kelvin converted it into a WMD factory after he realized he couldn’t safely build them in the Underground. We’re here to create the real weapons to be used in the war.”

  “But then why did he tell us to come here to train your Ops?”

  “Maybe you misunderstood him,” Naomi says.

  “No,” Dad answers, his eyes on the conveyor belts. “There was no misunderstanding.”

  I follow Dad’s gaze, zeroing in on the weapons of mass destruction to be used in the war, many of which I’ve never seen before. Why would Kelvin send us here if there was no one to train? Why send away those most qualified to protect the city? Unless…he doesn’t want to protect Sydia.

  Vill grips my arm, and I see he’s reached the same conclusion. Kelvin is up to something.

  Naomi starts organizing the healings with Myers, and I take the opportunity to lean into Dad, my voice low. “Can you call Mom? See if everything is fine in Sydia?”

  His eyes meet mine. “She would call me if something happened.”

  “What if she can’t?”

  Fear flickers across Dad’s face, and as he steps out to call Mom, my heart speeds up from worry. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe Kelvin forgot that this base was no longer a training site for Operatives. Or maybe he assumed we knew and wouldn’t come here. But then why can’t I dispel the sinking feeling in my chest that something isn’t right?

  “So these people aren’t trained to fight?” I ask Naomi. “Do they even know how to use these weapons?”

  Naomi swallows. “No.”

  “Then what were you planning to do to protect them? You have no Operatives here.” Naomi looks away, and I think back to Myers’s attention to the people in the town, to his crew. She’s nothing like him. It’s like she never considered herself responsible for these people.

  Myers pulls me aside and lowers his voice. “Freaking these people out isn’t the way to help them understand, Ari.”

  “I guess I didn’t realize we were still in the gentle zone. I thought we were prepping these people for war, not holding their hands.”

  He sighs heavily. “No one said this was going to be easy.”

  “Yeah, well, no one said you had subpar Lead Ops out in the field, either.”

  Naomi’s head snaps over, but I don’t care. How is it possible that someone can only see what they’ve been told and taught and nothing more? Like it never occurred to her to give them survival skills. The thought makes me sick.

  Jackson leans into my ear. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Myers is right. Most of these people only know what they’re told, Ari. They are creatures of habit. You can’t fault them for that. Naomi is trying now. Help her.”

  I bite my lip and peer over to see a hint of sadness in Naomi’s eyes, like she’s lost a competition that she never realized she’d entered.

  Dad returns and nods to me that everything is okay in Sydia, and I release a breath of relief. I have no idea what Kelvin’s after, but I plan to find out. At least the people we love back in Sydia are safe. For now…

  “Okay,” I say, my eyes still on Naomi. “But when I’m done here, we train them how to use a gun. We train them to fight.”

  Naomi nods in agreement, and I step up to the crowd and give the same speech I gave back at the West Coast base. How they can ask anything they like. How this isn’t a requirement. How they can choose what they want to do. When I’m done with my spiel, I separate the men from the women. “And once you’re healed and acclimated, we will train you to use these weapons. We don’t have long, half a day at best. But we’ll show you the basics so you can protect yourselves.”

  Jackson and I heal the people in our line, while Vill, Dad, and Myers handle another group, and then an amazing thing happens—others venture near, watching at first, and then joining in line. Before long, our lines have lengthened, every person in the factory now waiting to become half-breeds.

  I take a step back after we’ve healed the last person, body and mind exhausted, but at the same time I’m excited. I’m hopeful. I think back to the cafeteria in the underground, how the Ancients and humans were separated, the fight over the stolen apple. And then to now, where we stand, turning human after human into half-breeds. The change is almost miraculous. But then, war can change one’s outlook; fear can force one to do something he never thought he would do.

  Like becoming an Ancient—becoming the enemy in order to fight the enemy. It’s been a long time since I felt so proud to be human.

  “Why don’t you grab some water? You look tired,” Naomi says from beside me. “I can take you.”

  I eye her. Ever since Lydian betrayed me back on Loge and then Law shot me, I’ve been hesitant to trust anyone. Even Myers walks the line, drifting into traitor territory as often as I view him an ally. I wonder if I’ll ever fully trust anyone again, besides my parents and Jackson. Even Gretchen gives me pause after what happened with Law. How can I know she isn’t on his side?

  “I wanted to talk to yo
u privately,” Naomi says.

  I turn to her, my eyebrows raised. “Okay. I’m listening.”

  “We were told not to train them, Ari.”

  “Wait, we?”

  “There used to be a full crew of Ops here. The rest were sent away weeks ago. Now it’s only me.”

  I have too many questions, each more urgent than the last. “Why were they sent away?”

  Naomi shakes her head. “I don’t know. Kelvin said they were needed elsewhere.”

  “Kelvin?”

  “He’s run things for a long time now, even before President Cartier’s stroke, and her stroke, Ari”—Naomi glances around nervously and lowers her voice—“there are rumors that Kelvin caused it.”

  I suck in a breath. “What—wait—caused it? How is that possible?”

  “I don’t know. All I know is that he created the neurotoxin. And he created the poison that was intended to kill at the execution chambers. He excels at creating chemicals that cause death. What would keep him from giving President Cartier something that would impact her brain? He’s wicked, Ari. You can’t trust him.”

  I already knew Kelvin was bad, but this runs deeper than I could have imagined. “Why were you told not to train them, Naomi? I thought Kelvin wanted as many soldiers as possible.”

  “No,” she says, shaking her head again. “That might be what he’s telling the general populace during his televised addresses, but Kelvin explicitly instructed us that the factory workers were not to know how to use the weapons.”

  “But if the Ancients attacked here, they wouldn’t be able to defend themselves.”

  “Exactly.” Naomi’s expression turns cold. “I don’t think he ever intended for these people to survive.”

  Everything I know about Kelvin and all my doubts spiral through my mind, trying to make sense of what Naomi’s telling me, yet I can’t make it fit. I don’t trust Kelvin, but this? None of it makes sense. “Why would Kelvin want these people to die?”

  Naomi shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine, but we don’t have long before Kelvin discovers what you’re doing. Be careful at the northeast base. The Lead Op there is very loyal to him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he reports you as soon as he sees that Myers and your father are now half-breeds.”