Creators(50)

“So, you killed them? The creators?” I gulped, remembering the legend that had surrounded Abrams.

She nodded. “They killed my mother. They told the whole world I was weak and dangerous when I was the one who created the world they wanted to live in.”

“So, knowing how the women were dying, why didn’t you try and find a cure?”

Abrams’s eyes met mine. She leaned forward, pulling on her ropes. “Because I finally saw the world my father and his men feared—a world filled with betrayal and hate and darkness. A world not worth saving. I killed those men, and the minute I did was the minute I realized how weak mankind was. The council was appalled by my actions, but they couldn’t kill me. They needed me.”

I felt sick. She could have stopped it. She could have found a cure. My sister could have been saved. “To create more chosen ones?”

She nodded.

“But now they know how. Why still keep you alive?”

“Because I ensured they would need me. I invented a fail-safe. Protection against the council built into the chosen ones themselves.” Abrams grinned.

With the mention of a fail-safe, my father appeared at my side. This was the information he had been seeking out. My chest heaved with my unspent energy. “What are you talking about?”

“When I helped my father build the chosen ones, I believed we could make a newer, better world. And when I found out the world wasn’t worth saving, I made sure I could keep that power to myself.”

“That’s God’s choice. Not yours,” my father barked.

Abrams pulled against her ropes, leaning her frail body even closer to me. “God has abandoned you. If he is master of the universe, then he’s responsible for what has happened to our species. And when you realize that,” she continued, “then you realize that the thing you hated for so long—us—is gone. Then you’ll be like the rest of us…empty.”

“Five minutes is up,” my father interjected.

I felt dizzy. Like I still wasn’t quite awake—that odd in-between place between sleep and consciousness where everything seemed possible and impossible all at once. It reminded me of the morning I woke up after escaping the compound. I had reached for the numbers lasered onto my arm by the council, taking comfort that something of my old life still existed.

I cleared my throat, forcing the words out. “The virus… When I went into my inspection, they found out I was immune. I wouldn’t die in childbirth. How?”

“We’re done here. Step away, Tess,” my father demanded.

“Won’t you let me answer her question?” Abrams said like she was asking him to pass the milk. “It’s the least you could do, considering everything I told you.”

“I want to hear what she has to say,” I begged without looking up at my father.

“One more minute,” he said.

“You’ll have to come closer. It’s a secret only you can know.” Abrams smirked.

“The last time I did that, a girl stabbed me,” I replied.

“I have about five guns pointed at me. I don’t think I’ll be stabbing you,” she countered.

I leaned closer to Abrams as she pressed her paper-thin lips against my ear. Her words slithered in and traveled down to my very soul. “Nature, my love. Science never could control it. It chose you like it chose me. There is no rhyme or reason to it, but you’re special. Unique. It is a blessing and a curse.”

So I was a freak. I began to pull away from Abrams when the short cluck of her tongue stopped me. “I’m going to tell you something. Something your father wants to know, and I’m going to let you decide whether you want to share it.” With these cryptic words, she whispered a series of numbers into my ear.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked.

“Because when you’ve seen everything I have, playing games is the only fun left. Besides, I am so very tired of carrying this burden.”

Before I could respond, an object darted out of the tree line from the corner of my eye. A monstrously loud ripping noise filled the air, accompanied by the clicks of five guns. Men shouted at me as I covered my head with my hands.

Once I was sure the sky wasn’t going to fall straight down on me, I lifted my head to find a disheveled Robert standing in front of me. A tempest of emotions came alive in his eyes. His brow was furrowed, and his lip was curled in a sneer. Blood was splattered across his face like raindrops. My eyes traveled down to his hands. He was clutching some sort of dense object. He dropped it to the floor.

I looked past him to find Abrams slumped forward. A strand of salvia dripped out of her mouth down into the dirt ground. Like a spider web that had lost its spider. It went down to where her heart lay.