Mortal - Chapter 11

Premise: In this young-adult dystopian novel, people can no longer die. But they still feel pain, and suffer--and it's maddening. Because of the chaos that ensued, the US Government created a program to figure out how to kill people. When Garrett, a teenager, falls into a coma for weeks as a result of an experiment, the Program sets its malicious sights on him.

This is the eleventh chapter of the novel, Mortal. Click here for the beginning of the story. Or, click here for Chapter 10.

The acidity of the orange juice is hard to bear on an empty stomach, but I can’t will myself to take one bite of granola.

Abel sits with me now. There’s a nasty welt on his eye since the last time I saw him, and I stare at it critically, trying to figure out why a scientist could possibly think that could make him die.

“Anything new happen lately?” I ask him, scratching my nose.

“You,” he responds.

I shrug in response. I decided I was done with shock, done with worry, done with fear. Might as well play my weak mentality well, and pretend like nothing’s happened. Because it hasn’t.

I gulp down the rest of my juice and watch him with solemn eyes. “After our meeting with the Secretary,” I begin, clasping my hands together on the table, “What did they do to you?”

“Radiation poisoning,” Abel says while he takes a slow sip of his water.

I blink in surprise. I hadn’t heard that one in a while. “And…are you all right?”

Abel nods, “The symptoms wore off a week ago about.”

“And…do you have cancer now?” I ask.

“Um…” he laughs, and his eyes brighten for a brief moment, “They wouldn’t tell me.”

“Hm,” I sound as I brush the hair from my face.

“Garrett…” Abel begins after a shared moment of silence, “About your…your coma…”

I can tell he’s seen the dark flash of emotions upon my face before I’ve masked them with a carefree smile. “Oh, I don’t want to talk about it,” I say cheerfully, and brush his words aside with the wave of my hand. “It’s not important.”

 Abel frowns, his wrinkles creasing heavily, “Not import—“

“Garrett!”

We turn to see Therese running towards our table. I get up from my seat right as she pulls me into a strong embrace. I stand there awkwardly before I gently push her away and smile, “Hey.”

“Garrett!” she squeaks, “They wouldn’t tell us what happened to you until yesterday! I thought you…well, I thought you—“

“Died?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

“Well, yes,” she admits, frowning.

“Disappointed?” I slouch my shoulders, feigning despair.

“What?” Therese’s brow furrows in confusion, “No!”

“I need to talk to both of you now,” Abel says gripping both our wrists and pulling us to the makeshift gym in the corner.

Therese and I both sit on the bench. I pick up a small two pound weight and begin lifting it with my right arm.

“Garrett, as your friend, I need you to tell me everything. You’re obviously upset,” Abel points out, folding his arms over his chest.

I stare at him curiously. He looks so strange as a short, old man acting cross. I smile at him to disprove his point.

“See?” Abel lifts an eyebrow at me.

“Abel’s right,” Therese says hesitantly, “You don’t act this way unless something’s bugging you.”

I don’t want to explain. I don’t want to tell them how scared and confused I am. The coma. The dream. I’m sure none of that is good. And I have to believe that pretending like nothing mattered would be the safest thing for Mr. Sane. “Hello, Therese!” I exclaim loudly, “Don’t you know where we live? Don’t you think there’s always something bugging me?”

Therese rolls her eyes, “Don’t play dumb.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Abel asks quietly. He has this small, expecting smile on his face, and it throws me off guard. At Project Eden, we don’t express our feelings. We don’t show what others mean to us, so when I’m asked this, I blink with shock and try to rid myself of the stutter, “Of course. I trust both of you.”

Abel grins crookedly, “I know,” he says, “Which is why I asked Therese to join us. I need you to tell us what happened, Garrett. So we can figure things out together.”

I bite my lip as I look at both of them. Their eyes are earnest and full of sympathy. I exhale slightly, hanging my head, “Alright.” I tell Abel about when I questioned Joe about him and if Joe was working for the Secretary, and Therese adds a few details of her own. I tell them both about my test, getting shot, and I reluctantly tell them how I freaked out and basically lost my sanity. I tell them that the Secretary insisted we try the test again. And I tell them the man with gun shot me in the heart, and that’s when I fell into a coma.

Abel sits down in one of the fold-up chairs and begins to rub his temples. Therese puts a hand on my shoulder.

“This isn’t good,” Abel says what I’m sure we’re all thinking.

“No,” Therese agrees aloud anyway.

“Now that I’ve given them results…” my stomach twists, and I can’t finish my sentence.

“They won’t stop with you until you’re dead,” Abel says, “You’ve given them hope in a world with none. They can’t help but get carried away with you.”

I rub my hands down my face as I debate with myself whether or not to tell them. Finally, I decide they should know. I’d like to know if I was crazy or not. “There’s more…” I begin reluctantly, “Last night I had a dream…except for it turned out to be a memory. A memory that I was sure wasn’t real.”

“What does that even mean?” Therese asks with apparent confusion.

“I don’t know,” I sigh, “It’s hard to explain. It just feels like something or someone’s trying to change my past.”

“Hm. Could it have been caused by the coma?” Abel wonders.

I shrug. Abel’s reasoning makes much more sense than any of mine have, “I guess that could be it.”

“Now listen you two,” Abel says after a moment, and he leans towards us in his chair, “We know better than anyone out there that it’s impossible to die, right? At least by the means these scientists are coming up with.”

“Yeah,” Therese nods, “But what does that have to do with anything?”

I remain silent because after these past two weeks, I don’t know what to believe anymore.

“Garrett isn’t safe here now. If you think your test is extreme, Therese, you’ll soon be thanking God when the scientists start focusing on him,” Abel explains gravely.

“Delightful,” I say bitterly.

“Abel,” Therese begins slowly, “I’m not exactly sure what you’re trying to say.”

“I’m saying,” Abel murmurs, “That we need to get Garrett out of here.”

 Therese groans and looks up to the ceiling, obviously irritated that we have ignored the cameras again.

“You’re serious?” I ask him. I can’t seem to hide the shock from my face.

Abel nods, “It’s the only way to keep you safe.”

“Oh, so making Garrett into a rebel, a refugee, is going to keep him safe?” Therese exclaims hysterically, yet somehow she manages to never raise her voice above a whisper.

“Yes,” Abel replies, “If it works.”

“Which it won’t,” Therese retorts.

“Look,” Abel sighs, “I’ve evaluated the situation. I’ve been with these people for fifteen years. I know how far they’re willing to go. And their desperation is a great threat to him. Escape is the only way Garrett can be safe.”

“Safe is rather relative, isn’t it? What’s the safe, we’re talking about, Abel?” I ask, uncomfortable. The tension between my only friends is beyond frightening. Especially with what they’re arguing over.

“You get to keep something besides your head and the small amount of sanity you have left,” Abel answers bluntly.

“Oh…” my voice trails. Well that certainly puts a damper on things.

“I’ll humor you, Abel,” Therese licks her blistered lips, “Let’s say this escape plan is suddenly a good idea. How’re we going to pull it off?”

“With your help.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Therese hisses.

“Therese,” Abel rests a hand on her knee, “You’re going to die for us.”

“Um, what?” Therese glances to me and mutters, “You sure it’s not him who’s crazy?”

“Abel,” I shake my head, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“There’s only one thing that could possibly distract the program long enough for Garrett to escape. Someone dead,” Abel explains simply.

“And exactly how am I supposed to will myself to die?” Therese asks sarcastically.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Abel chides, “You aren’t actually going to die. We’re just going to make it seem like you did.”

“I feel a migraine coming on,” Therese sighs and pulls her knees up to her chest.

“How?” I ask him, leaning into our imperfect circle.

“Well, it’s rather simple if you think about it. These scientists are so desperate they’ll believe someone taking a nap is dead if told that. But I figure in order to give you enough time, we’ll make her death a bit more realistic. We’ll steal some medication from the infirmary, a sedative maybe, to knock Therese out.”

I glance to the camera in the corner of the room. For some reason, Abel doesn’t seem too worried about it which makes me question if he is at all serious about this.

“That’s great and all,” Therese tugs at one of the bandage wraps on her arm, “But people pass out all the time. What makes you think they’ll take a special interest in me?”

“They’re practical people,” Abel points out, “Not to mention, methodical. They won’t ignore you, and that’s enough time for us to get out of here.”

“Us?” I repeat, blinking.

“Yes, Garrett. What part of keeping you safe don’t you understand?” Abel questions.

“Right,” I mumble, hanging my head. If the Secretary is at all telling the truth about what’s out there, it’s no place for someone like me, who barely knew the way from home to school as a child and who then remained under Eden’s supervision for five years after that, to be roaming the world alone. And of course, who wouldn’t want to leave Project Eden? I’m the perfect excuse.

Therese seems to realize this too, “So, what? I’m your little diversion and you get to just leave me behind? How about you play dead, old man.”

Abel bites his lip and lowers his gaze, “Therese, I don’t mean to sound rude, but do you honestly think Garrett has a chance at all if he’s with someone that looks like you?”

Although I know Abel meant it the most respectful way, it’s obvious Therese is hurt, and I wish he hadn’t said anything. Even though he’s completely right, his words still make me feel guilty. Therese’s back hunches, and that welcoming, charismatic way about her vanishes.

“Right,” Therese huffs out, her fire gone.

I want to leave this sad, awkward point in the conversation as quickly as possible. “Abel, why aren’t you worried at all about the camera picking this up?”

“Back when the firsts of us still had some fight in us, we tested it out to see how far the audio on the camera could pick up. It didn’t seem to get past the first few tables. And since it’s breakfast right now, the surrounding noise should cover us.”

“How are we going to get the medicine?” Therese asks after a moment of shared silence.

“I have my test today. I should be able to get some without anyone noticing,” Abel says after he coughs into his fist.

Therese and I glance at each other. His cockiness is a bit off-putting.

Therese just shakes her head with an incredulous smile. “Let’s say all of this works.”

“It will,” Abel attests with a curt nod.

“But you’re forgetting one slight issue,” Therese lifts her hand and presses her thumb and index finger together. “Where are you going to escape from?”

I grimace. This place is basically a prison. The only difference is that we have doors instead of bars. The only possible way I can think of is through the lobby…and that just seems impossible.

“There’s one place I’m rather confident of,” Abel shifts in his seat. “The only window in Project Eden.”

I meet his hard gaze as I realize exactly where he is talking about. And it sends a shiver down my spine. The Secretary’s office.

“The sedative won’t work,” I announce. In order for this plan to succeed, the Secretary would have to be out of his office. The assistants wouldn’t bother him to tell him of an unresponsive inmate, and he certainly wouldn’t go have a look for himself.

“I agree,” Therese says smoothly before turning to me with curiosity, “But why? And where’s this window?”

“In the Secretary’s office,” Abel glances absently to Therese then returns his attention to me, “And why not?”

“Because…” I bite the inside of my cheek as anxiety fills me. To think that we were actually planning on escaping! That it was actually possible! “Because a girl passed out isn’t a good enough reason for the Secretary to go and see her. Like Therese said, that happens all the time. Sure, the assistants would check on her, maybe even a couple of scientists, but not Paracot.”

Abel lowers his head. Therese blinks, looking terribly confused. I tap my foot against the floor.

“And what do you suggest instead?” Abel asks slowly.

I hold my chin in my hand as I think. “I’ve gotten the Secretary to leave his office…I think it could work again…”

“Care to share with the class?” Therese urges me, brushing her elbow into my ribs.

“After I was shot the first time, I became certifiably insane pretty much, right? Well, when I woke up, the Secretary came in and Dr. Long brought up something they discussed a few weeks ago…I don’t know what, but I then seemed to spark his interest.”

“So if he wasn’t interested in you before why did he come?” Therese tucks a charred lock of hair behind her ear.

“I don’t know, I guess Dr. Long said it was urgent, but that’s beside the point,” I press my lips together, thinking. “Paracot suddenly became curious about my…mentality. I think he might be very curious if, say, another person also went crazy.”

  Therese and Abel are silent for a long time, and I begin to wonder whether I should have even mentioned it.

“It’s a good idea,” Abel acknowledges, tapping his chin.

“Really?” I ask, too surprised for my own good.

Abel smirks, “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Therese raises an eyebrow, “How am I suppose to act crazy? No, better question: How are they supposed to believe that I have gone crazy?” She turns to look at me, and I blush.

“Well?” she jerks her head downwards, watching me with wide, earnest eyes.

“Um…” my lip twists, uneasy, “You just have to…act on all the emotions going through your mind in that moment…I guess…”

“Oh…” she sits back in her seat with a blank expression. However, her face soon develops a mischievous smile, her brown eyes glinting with something a bit frightening. “Well then this should be fun.”

I’m about to comment morbidly before I hear the metal door slam, and jerk my head towards the front of the room to see the assistants filing in with their clipboards.  They begin to call numbers, and my throat tightens, “And when will this all take place?” I ask softly, never retracting my gaze.

“Tomorrow morning.”

I can’t help but look at him then. The fear and excitement of escape nearly strangles me, and I croak out, “So soon?”

“Why not?” Abel demands smoothly, “Don’t you want to miss out on your test tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but…” the thought of being gone from Project Eden forever in one day is difficult to wrap around.

“Then it’s settled,” Abel rises from his seat, and Therese soon joins him in standing.

“Should I start acting weird during my test today?” Therese asks, eyeing the metal door.

Abel shakes his head, “No. They might begin monitoring you after that, and we want your outburst to be spontaneous.”

I cringe at the word.

“002871.”

“That’s me,” Abel says with a grimace, “I’ll see you two at dinner,” and he starts for the line of assistants.

“I should head over too,” Therese decides after a moment. She raises her hand to me and leaves.

“Bye,” I mutter, dumbfounded, and drop my head in my hands.

Leaving Eden. Ridiculous. If I was now the Secretary’s top priority why would he just let me leave? Wouldn’t he be monitoring my every move, if this was true? Abel is smart enough to know this. So maybe that’s what Eden was, an asylum for the insane. And so the government could get away with torturing us by calling it therapy. That’s the only thing that made sense.

Sense.

I shake my head at the biggest joke in the world.

Thank you so much for your support! xoxo, Liv