The ARC 01: Tainted Read online

  I look down and find myself in a long black dress. The fabric shimmers and I put my hand down to touch it. It is soft and luxurious in my hands. As I stand admiring it I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around to find Sebastian standing there wearing his formal suit. He seems almost a part of the landscape, matching the dark colours of the ravaged earth. With one swift movement, he takes his jacket off and puts it over my shoulders. His strong, steady hands lift my chin up to look him in the eyes.

  ‘If they took you from me, I would come for you,’ he says simply.

  I jerk awake with a loud, raspy intake of breath. It’s dark in the cinema and the people around me are laughing at one of the movie’s gags.

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ I tell Quinn, before quickly standing to make my way to the exit, profusely apologising to the people in my row as I clamber past them.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Quinn asks, following me.

  ‘I need to see Sebastian,’ I reply, as I open the door and walk out into the bright entrance. ‘We kind of had a falling out the other night and I need to make it right.’

  ‘Well, the movie sucks anyway, let’s go!’ Quinn says.

  I look at her surprised and begin to feel awkward. I don’t know how to explain to her that I really don’t want her here for this.

  ‘Don’t stress,’ she says, seeing my apprehension. ‘I’m going to catch up with one of the boys who lives a few doors down from Sebastian. Unless of course you want me to hold your hand?’

  ‘Come on.’ I ignore her sarcasm and tug at her sleeve so she’ll follow.

  When we arrive out front of Sebastian’s I say goodbye to Quinn, who continues on down the hallway, a cheeky smile on her face.

  I take several deep breaths before I knock, three distinct raps against the door. Knock, knock, knock, they drum against the hollow wood.

  Blood begins to churn through my body at a rapid pace as I fret over what I will say once that silver door handle turns and the door opens. I watch it with nervous anticipation, waiting for its tell-tale twisting movement to warn me I’m about to have to face Sebastian.

  After several moments I knock again impatiently. Each short, staccato beat of my knuckles rapping creates a sharp, blunt echo over the gentle hum of the fluorescent lights in the hallway.

  My pulse continues to escalate, and my nervous tension runs down to my fingers that fidget with the sleeves of my top. What if he’s not answering the door because he doesn’t want to talk to me?

  ‘Sebastian?’ I call out, refusing to accept he would blatantly ignore me this way. I cock my ear, listening for movement from the other side of the door, but don’t hear anything from within.

  I thump harder against the door, calling out louder. ‘Sebastian?’

  Quinn, having heard me from down the hallway, has walked back.

  ‘Not home?’ she asks.

  I frown at the door irrationally, hating the solid object for refusing to budge. 'I guess not.' I shrug, disappointed, taking a step back from the door.

  ‘Do you want to try comming him?’ she asks.

  I shake my head. It’s not the kind of conversation I want to have over my cuff. ‘No, I—’ I’ve barely said two words in response when Sebastian’s door handle rattles behind me.

  I jump and turn around, striding back towards it, relief flooding through me. Sebastian’s not ignoring me after all. I start fidgeting with my necklace, wishing I’d taken some time to consider what I should say.

  As the door swings open my hand drops to my side, and I try to hide my disappointment. The face that greets me through the crack in the slightly ajar door is not Sebastian, but his dad.

  I rush to explain to him that I’m here to see Sebastian. My voice trails off though when I look at Adam more closely. His head barely peeks out from behind the door, but it’s enough to show he’s devastated. His eyes are red and puffy, his skin is so white it’s almost grey, and angry tears fall down his tired, drawn face.

  Before I can ask him what’s wrong he opens the door wide, steps forward and hugs me, his body shaking in my arms. Feeling confused, I look over his shoulder to Quinn, but she seems just as baffled.

  ‘I’m sorry Elle. I’m so sorry,’ he sobs. His voice is husky and breaking with emotion.

  My heart stops beating. It refuses to continue its happy thudding, like a cold, clammy hand has wrapped its way around it and clenches it angrily in its grasp. There’s only one thing Adam Scott has left to lose that could make him this distraught. Nausea builds in my stomach and my own arms quiver heavily as I stand back from him, my hands lightly clinging to his trembling shoulders.

  ‘What’s happened?’ I can barely say the words. They feel thick and heavy, like trying to talk with a mouthful of dirt.

  ‘They’ve… They’ve…’ he wheezes.

  ‘Are you okay Adam?’ Quinn comes up behind him and begins rubbing his back.

  ‘I just thought he was sick. Thought I was doing the right thing,’ he splutters. I look at Quinn desperately, the bile in my stomach now sitting in my throat.

  ‘Adam, what happened?’ she asks, when she sees I can’t bring myself to speak.

  He looks me dead in the eyes and in this moment I know with absolute certainty I don’t want to hear the words he’s about to say.

  ‘They’ve taken him Elle,’ he cries. ‘Sebastian. They’ve taken him. He’s tainted and he’s never coming back.’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  As an orphan, you often wonder about your parents. Mostly it’s the small things that plague you. Questions like, what perfume did my mum wear? Or what kind of music did my dad listen to? Did he even listen to music? You wonder about the little things you would know if they were with you.

  Sometimes you allow yourself to go a little further. You touch on questions like, what did my parents look like? Do I have my mum’s eyes or my dad’s nose?

  Unsurprisingly, you then make your way to a big one; did they love me? From there you inevitably have to ask the question that hurts the most. If they did love me, how could they let me go?

  As I stand looking at Adam, who is still gripping my arms but has now collapsed down onto his knees, his face in total agony, my mind drifts away from my body. Reality feels like an echo, as if I’m underwater while life rages on above the surface. As my mind floats through calmer seas I wonder, how could Sebastian leave me?

  I snap back to reality. Sebastian didn’t leave me. He hadn’t wanted to leave. He was taken.

  I back away from Adam, tearing myself from the grip he has on my arms. He flops limply down onto the floor. Looking up at Quinn I can see pain on her face, but also worry. She’s not worried for Sebastian, or even Adam. She’s worried for me.

  Her pity is a haunting emphasis of what has just happened. Sebastian is gone.

  ‘I can’t…’ I utter. I turn away from her troubled stare, and Adam’s crumpled body lying on the ground, and without another word I run.

  I run through endless corridors not knowing where my feet will take me. When I reach the Atrium I have to slow my pace as I try to push past all the people. In my rush to get out of the suffocating crowd I fall over, my knees slamming harshly against the ground. Legs bump past me as people carelessly walk by.

  ‘Are you okay?’ A woman crouches down beside me. I can feel her hand at my elbow, attempting to help me up, but I shake her off. Without looking at the woman or thanking her I hurry on, roughly shoving my way through the multitudes.

  When the crowd starts to disperse I begin to run again, faster this time. I want to get away from the people who had stared at me as I stumbled through the Atrium. Away from those who had judged me as I flew past them in the corridor. Away from everyone who doesn’t understand what it’s like to lose your best friend.

  ‘Ah!’ I yell out and grab my stomach in pain as it urges me to stop running with a brutal cramp. I put pressure on it and struggle on. I’m still not far enough from the thought that Sebastian’s no longer here.

  When I physic
ally can’t continue I finally collapse on the floor in a deserted corridor. I drag my broken body over to the wall and lean against it, defeated. I feel weak and weary and my breath is uncontrollable as I heave in and out. I pull my knees in tight to my chest and bow my head into them.

  Surely this is a mistake. Surely they have taken the wrong person. Two takings in a matter of days; that just doesn’t happen now.

  I feel a sob tear through my chest. I should’ve gone to find him before tonight. Now I will never have the chance to make things right with him. He has gone where I can’t follow.

  I sit for what seems like hours, miserable. No one comes to find me and no one walks past. I am left in my own little world of pain.

  I eventually awaken from my distraught state when I hear movement in the distance. It takes me a moment to recognise the sound of footsteps coming closer. I try to orientate myself.

  Where am I?

  I can vaguely remember passing the smell of manure wafting from the animal pens earlier, and looking at the wide corridor and high ceiling, I’m almost certain I’m in the East Wing. In a rush of arms and legs, I stand up, placing my hand against the wall to steady myself. I shouldn’t be in here. If I’m caught loitering here without permission I’ll be in trouble. Knowing my luck, I’d end up before the Council.

  I start to walk away from the footsteps. I feel even more confused as I turn down another corridor. Why hadn’t I paid attention earlier? I don’t recognise anything.

  I stop abruptly as a new sound reaches my ears from up ahead. I lower my head and tilt my ear in the direction of the sound, holding my breath for fear of missing the noise again.

  There it is. My head snaps up and I look in the direction I’ve been walking. Male voices, coming this way. I glance back over my shoulder towards the footsteps I’d initially heard. I’m stuck in the middle.

  I look up and down the hallway for somewhere to hide. There’s a door a little further down, so I make a dash for it. I slam my hand down on the handle and shove my body against it.

  It’s locked. Dammit!

  I bite down on my lower lip. Codes, codes. Umm. One, two, three, four? I punch the code into the keypad. The keypad light goes red. No luck. I try a couple of other random combinations.

  ‘Ah, it’s no use,’ I mutter angrily at the keypad, jamming my hand against the numbers violently.

  The voices are getting louder, and closer. They’ll be here any second.

  I’m about to give up and start running when the code Ryan gave me the other day for the Plantation pops into my head. Surely not… What were those numbers again? Four, three, five and eight—no that’s not right—nine…

  The keypad lights up green and I burst through the door, shutting it quickly behind me.

  I feel a rush of relief as the door clicks shut, me safely on the other side. I lean my head against the door to listen. The men are much closer and I can just make out some of their words. My nerves tingle in my fingers. I’m not out of the woods yet. While I wait for them to move on, I turn to see where I am.

  If I thought I was confused about where I was before, it’s nothing compared to how I feel now. I’m in a corridor that’s completely foreign to me. Nothing is familiar. The white walls are covered with dust and dirt. The light overhead hangs uselessly from the ceiling. Thankfully the blue sensor lights that line the walkway are functioning.

  I’ve definitely never been to this section of the ARC. Intrigued, I step away from the door and take a few steps down the corridor. It reminds me of the far corner of the North Wing, where Quinn and I live. But it’s much older and completely silent. Whilst our forsaken corner is quiet, it is nothing compared to the eerie abandonment I find here.

  Picking one of the doors that lead off the hallway, I slowly edge it open. The air inside is cold and stale, and my footprints leave a trail in the dust that has settled on the floor. As I push the door open further I can make out what appears to be an old and deteriorated living quarters. The white sheets on the beds are covered with dust, and the beds themselves seem to have sagged in the centre. Spider webs intricately weave long thin nets across the corners of the room.

  ‘I’m in the Old Wing,’ I murmur.

  I start to feel nervous. I’m not meant to be here, like really not meant to be here. No one is.

  The Old Wing is forbidden to everyone in the ARC. It was the first place people came when fleeing in preparation for the asteroid. The ARC had been quick to reach capacity and the Council was forced to make an order to close the entrance. The only means of effectively closing the entrance so no one could get in, or so no one could get out, was to set off some explosive material so it would implode. Unfortunately it didn’t set off as planned and the implosion made the whole wing unstable.

  I’m not just in trouble. I’m in danger.

  I begin to follow my footprints back to the Old Wing entrance, but as I get near I can hear voices from right on the other side of it. I stop to listen.

  Are they coming in here?

  I cock my ear and as I do I catch the sound of a code being entered into the door. Shit. I turn and start running deeper into the wing. I can’t be caught in here. I’ll take on an unstable structure any day over a run in with officials.

  I stumble and stagger over loose rubble that lies haphazardly on the ground. I don’t look back, and I don’t stop to listen. After a good ten minutes of jogging, turning down countless corridors and having thoroughly lost myself, I slow to a walk.

  For what seems like hours I traipse through a labyrinth of old and endless hallways. I have no idea where I am and no idea how to get back home.

  I am beginning to lose hope when I hear the soft sound of voices echoing through the corridor. Someone is close by. My first thought is to call out to them. I open my mouth to yell, but stop myself before any sound comes out. I may be lost but that’s nothing compared to the trouble I’ll be in if I’m found.

  I creep towards the voices, my natural instinct for self-preservation at war with my desperate need for guidance. Someone is speaking, but I’m unable to make out what they’re saying.

  The voices get louder when I reach a junction with a corridor that is slightly better lit than the darkness I’ve been stumbling through. I can hear the shuffle and scrape of footsteps, the movement only becoming louder as I wait.

  I stand slightly back from the intersection. If I turn left I’ll be caught, but turning right means whoever’s down here will be snapping at my heels.

  Instead, I retrace my steps, shrinking back into the darkness as a ball of light, emanating from a torch, bounces on the ground near me.

  I watch from the shadows of a doorway down the adjacent corridor as the first man passes. From here I can easily make out the stark white official uniform. What the hell are they doing here?

  As I wait for them to pass, I try to figure out where they could be going. Then it hits me. Maybe there’s a reason why the Old Wing is forbidden? It’s where they take the tainted! It has to be.

  Hope flares inside of me. I had told Sebastian I would come for him and now I can!

  When the last official walks past the light gradually fades. I move into the corridor and quietly begin to follow.

  They walk further and further into the Old Wing. I feel exhausted, emotionally and physically drained, but determination propels me forward.

  The men stop up ahead. As they do I count their dark shadows outlined dimly in the distance. There are six of them standing in front of a large rock, which appears to block the way. One by one they disappear behind it.

  As I near the rock my heart beats so fast and so loudly, it fills my ears with its constant thudding. The light the men carried has disappeared now and only the soft blue glow remains.

  I find a tunnel entrance carved into the stone concealed behind the rock. There are no reliable blue lights lining this route and it appears to be one very small space. It’s tall enough for me to walk through without ducking my head, but incredibly narrow. I won
der how the officials managed to make it through. I lean forward and try to peer further down the passage but the darkness inside is so thick I can’t see more than two feet ahead.

  I take deep breaths in and out. ‘You can do this,’ I tell myself. I just need to take one step after another. Trying not to think about it, I make my way into the tunnel.

  A few steps in and the little light I did have has completely disappeared. The pitch black is all encompassing, suffocating even. Fear stirs in my belly and I can feel my body begin to tense and stiffen. The space is even smaller than I’d first imagined. ‘Don’t think about it,’ I repeat to myself several times. Now is seriously not the time for a breakdown.

  I quickly activate my CommuCuff, so I can at least have some light to guide me, but the light from the cuff is almost negligible. With my trembling hand held out in front I begin to make my way through the tight passage, sliding my other hand along the rough rock to steady myself. Although I’m terrified of being trapped in this dark, forsaken passage, the thought of losing Sebastian forever is much, much worse.

  In some sections I find I need to turn sideways to inch my way through the tight and narrow confines. I squeeze my eyes shut, terrified, as I edge my way along with rock pressing in from all around me.

  Finally the tunnel begins to widen enough so I can walk without risk of being wedged and I find the darkness also begins to lessen. Then finally, in the distance, I can make out the tiniest orb of light. I clamber my way towards it, desperate to get out of here. It quickly gets bigger and brighter, until finally I am standing at the end of the tunnel.

  Very carefully, in case the officials are still around, I peer around one of the rocks to see where I’ve been led. As I do I have to stifle a gasp.

  Before me stands a huge cavern. High above a mass of rock forms the roof. It is lined with precarious looking stalactites of all shapes and sizes that look like they could fall at any moment. Dotted among them are long electric lights, which glow just bright enough so the floor far below is lit. Right in the centre is a metal walkway that cuts the cavern in half. The officials I followed here walk along it easily chatting to each other, almost oblivious to the giant walls that tower above them. Further ahead I can see another set of officials getting up and gathering their stuff as if to leave.