CONTROL

CONTROL Part 8

I chew the inside of my cheek to distract me from that black hole of a feeling, the absence of Dad. He said to take care of myself. But all I can think of is Dyl. I have never seen her so withered, in such a dark place. While Dyl chooses some quiet, depressing music, I flick on my own holo. I can’t look at cell bio sites, and the thought of political science channels makes me ill, so I stare instead at a blank screen.

Suddenly, my holo screen goes fuzzy and matching static fills the air.

“Clear,” I command, to reset the holo. My stud is an older model I keep forgetting to update, and occasionally it’s too slow to handle the information. But the holo stays fuzzy. I reach up and pinch the earpiece, turning it off.

“My holo just died,” Dyl says, pulling the thick silver stud out of her earlobe. She walks to the bathroom, where she can examine it under the brighter light, checking the pin-sized battery in the core. I start to pull my black one out too.

“Weird. Mine did too—”

But before I can finish my sentence, the door opens.

Two strangers walk into our room. In the hallway behind them, a fancy electrostatic hoverchair bobs, as if waiting to serve a disabled person. One of the strangers is a young woman dressed in black. She wears her paper-white hair in a sleek ponytail, and her eyes are so pale blue they look white too, as if she dunked her whole head, eyes wide open, into a bucket of bleach.

The other guy is heavyset with a baby face, curly orange hair, and a scattering of scruffy beard. He withdraws a handful of black jelly beans from his pocket, popping them one by one into his mouth and chewing like a cow. For some reason, he keeps a wide distance from the woman. A bored expression flattens his features.

“Can I . . . help you?” I ask timidly. Dyl peeks from the bathroom.

“Your foster family is here to pick you up,” the girl says, but not kindly.

This is not what I expected. Now? It feels wrong in every way—her tone of voice, the way her eyes won’t look at me, the chubby companion and his black candy.

I shake my head. “But we only just did our tests today. I thought—”

She ignores me and beckons to my sister. “Come with me.”

Dyl looks to me, fear entering her eyes. She doesn’t move forward, instead whispering so low that only I can hear her.

“Zel, stay close to me.”

I give her the tiniest nod, and turn to the pair. “Where are we going, exactly?” I ask.

“Not both of you, just her.” The woman sounds irritated, and I can feel the blood pounding in my chest. I start breathing faster and faster to match the demand of my heart. They’re going to separate us, after I just silently promised my sister. I stand my ground in front of Dyl, like a guard. A tiny one.

“Can I confirm this with Micah? Or maybe the New Horizons director,” I say, failing to keep my voice steady. I pinch my holo on. “Micah? Can you—Micah?” My screen is still fuzzy.

A tidy smile stretches the strange girl’s face. Her teeth are tiny—pearly and sharp-looking. She pulls out a short sickle-shaped knife and twirls it in her fist. “Come on, Dylia. It’s time to go.”

When neither of us moves, the guy pockets his remaining jelly beans and crosses the room. Three of me could fit into his body. Before I can even flinch, he grabs my arms and I’m sailing across the room, landing on Dyl’s unmade bed in the corner.

“Zel!” my sister screams. I’ve only bounced on the bed, a trifle joggled and not hurt at all. But . . . holy shit. I just got attacked.

The white-haired girl hisses at the boy. “Ren! I don’t need any drama. I need quiet.”

Ren sticks his blackened tongue out at her and gives me a horrible smile. He saunters over to my corner, and I cower away from him, scrambling over the bedsheets. There’s no way in a million years I could fight this guy.

But . . . I can still breathe, and I can still scream.

“Run, Dyl!”

The white-haired girl walks calmly into the bathroom where Dyl has retreated. There’s no other door. She’s trapped. Dyl pulls her arm back and aims a perfect punch at her attacker. The girl staggers once, holding her jaw.

“You little bitch,” she says, and shoots out a hand to Dyl’s throat. She holds the knife to Dyl’s face when the guy hollers out.

“No blood! We need to keep this a clean scene. She’s worth nothing if her DNA is all over the goddamn place.”

The girl clicks her knife shut and shoves it into a pocket, keeping her free hand on Dyl. My sister isn’t that small compared to this girl. She could tear that skinny hand off her neck. Dyl tries, encircling the white wrist with her hands. But Dyl lets go almost as soon as she touches the girl’s skin. And then to my confusion, her attacker releases Dyl’s neck. Not to strike my sister, but to embrace her.

It’s the gentlest hug, her arms slipping up Dyl’s back, their knees touching. One. Two. Three seconds go by, and the girl steps away to survey her work.

Dyl slumps against the wall, like a marionette cut free of the strings. Her eyes blink unseeing, and as her head slides onto the floor, she vomits yellow liquid down her chin, staining her pristine white shirt.

I’ve never felt this pain before. Dad being hurt in the accident was one thing, but to see my little sister attacked, so utterly helpless and alone—it’s crushing me. I take in the biggest breath I can muster and let it out in a rush.

“Get away from her! Somebody! Help, please!”

“REN! I said keep it quiet!” The white-haired girl points to “it,” meaning me.

Before I can utter another scream, Ren grabs my arms and lifts my entire body, slamming me onto the floor. My head bounces against the hard surface for good measure and white light bursts under my eyelids. I’m in too much pain to even whimper.

“Don’t worry. Just breathe, honey.” His voice is crackly and I want to shriek, but I can’t because he’s clamped my jaw shut. I inhale frantically through my nose, trying to get enough air in my lungs when I realize what he’s doing. Ren mouth is inches away, and he’s blowing out his breath right into my face.

Violated. It’s the only word that can describe how I feel, inhaling his spent air. He purses his lips like a child begging for a kiss from a kindergarten sweetheart, but it’s not remotely innocent. His breath smells of licorice mixed with something earthy and spoiled. I’d vomit if I could only open my mouth.

Out of the periphery of my vision, I see something that can’t possibly be here. What the hell? A tendril of pale green vine, so lush and beautiful, curls into my field of vision. It sprouts orange flowers, the color of a grand sunset. One of the vines curls around my ear to tickle my neck.

Ren lets go of my face. I swat at the vine, which is now encircling my leg. A new bloom, the size of a dinner plate, bobs over my face. It’s beautiful but menacing.

“Stop. Go away,” I say, but my words are coming from a far distance. Holy shizz, I can actually see the letters, crawling along Dyl’s bed. Stop shimmies under the covers in a lump and Go away floats over the floor and squeezes a hasty exit under the door.

“She’s so gone. Let’s go.” The words shimmer in gold, retreating behind the bloom still dancing over my head.

The distorted flower is almost painful to behold, wringing out my brain that’s so used to all things logical. It hurts. It tells me to stop fighting, stop resisting, stop everything and just worship.

Has it been minutes, or hours, or weeks? My eyes grow dry and weary from the adoration, when one of the petals simply disappears. Where did it go? I turn around, trying to see where it’s fallen. Around my body, the green filaments begin to disintegrate, blurring into a pale smoke and then nothingness. The vision is gone.

Suddenly, there is pain. The back of my head, throbbing. And silence. I shake my head and try to look around the room. Reality is back. The two strangers are gone.

And so is Dyl.