Mortal - Chapter 17

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 seventeenth chapter of the novel, Mortal. Click here for the beginning of the story. Or, click here to view all chapters.

Edward praised Lucy sardonically for her notes, before taking the laptop and retreating into his office for the rest of the day. Lucy twisted her lip as she pulled on her shirt, uncomfortable. Bern sat in the lobby for about five minutes before he decided to refill his coffee cup.

I stare down at my hands, cringing at the sound of nothing. It’s obvious no one knew what to say after the interview, and with Edward gone into seclusion, there was hardly any chance someone would speak up. I wonder if Edward would go back on his word about finding information on VitCorp now that he has everything he needed from me. Well, I think, turning my hands over, I can always say I lied about it all just to stick it to him.

And after? What would come next once this deal is settled? Will Edward Gild take me in, or would I be forced to make do on my own? I shiver at the thought.

Lucy slips out of her flip flops and sits next to me on the couch with a muffled sigh. I glance over at her, but she’s not looking at me, but straight ahead, like we’re making some illegal trade in an alley.

“So we’re kinda like cats,” she says absently, tucking locks of her dirty blonde hair behind her ear.

I turn to look at her, baffled by her odd, awkward comparison. Her knees bump into mine when she slides at an angle, so that she’s facing me slightly, but she never meets my gaze. “You know,” her voice grows hoarse, “Cats have nine lives…except for we have more.” She squeezes her hands together in her lap, and it looks like her fingers will just pop off if she exerts anymore pressure.

“I’m…not exactly sure what you’re trying to say…” I eye her warily.

She blushes, and her eyes flash up at me, “Basically…I just wanted to say…” her brow furrows, and she looks like she’s conflicted about something, “I’m sorry about...” her voice trails, and she looks away.

“About what?” I snap, and immediately regret it. Lucy is certainly proud, and for this moment, I prefer she’d stay that way. Her sympathy makes my stomach churn.

She shrugs, picking at one of her painted nails. “Everything.”

We’re silent for a while, and I don’t like how this conversation ends, so I quickly say, “You sorry for leaving me in the middle of the street?” My lips pull into a thin smile.

Lucy looks up at me, with wide eyes, before her lip twitches and her eyes glint with arrogance, “No.” she says adamantly. As she pushes her body off the couch, she leans closer to me, and I catch the sight of a tiny, gold crucifix on a chain around her neck.

I watch her leave the lobby, towards the conference room, my fingernails digging into the leather of the couch. I want to know how she knew about VitCorp. Sure, she might like to look up random facts in her free time, but she seemed to know something Bern didn’t about VitCorp. The crucifix on the wall of every test room at Project Eden comes to mind. They never seemed to look into religion though I probably wouldn’t have known regardless. Did they resent Him or Her or It? A higher being? Is that why they had that cross, hanging on the wall, a constant reminder to flame their determination? I don’t know. And probably never will. But I might find out about VitCorp.

I soon join Bern and Lucy in the conference room. Lucy is fiddling with her camera while she mindlessly plucks at red grapes on a paper plate and pops them into her mouth. Bern is standing by the microwave with his arms crossed. I sit down across from Lucy and start tapping my fingers on the table.

Bern looks up and smiles at me, “You were great in there, Garrett. I know Edward doesn’t show much appreciation, but just take his silence and vigor as the biggest compliment you could ever receive.”

“Yeah, it makes me feel all warm and stuff,” I say sarcastically.

Lucy looks up at me as she pushes another grape through her lips. It presses against her cheek, creating a bulge, before she finally bites down. I avert my gaze, feeling like I wasn’t allowed to see that.

“So, uh,” I begin, running my fingers through my hair, “How long do you think he’ll take to write it?”

“I don’t know,” Bern shakes his head. The microwave buzzes, and he turns to open it. “It’s definitely a huge story, no doubt, so he’ll want it perfect. But because it’s so huge, he won’t stop until it’s done.”

“Do…do you think it’ll work?” I ask, before pressing my lips into a firm line, realizing I sounded like I am hopelessly begging.

“You mean get Eden shut down?” Bern raises an eyebrow as he places a plate of pizza in front of me. Pizza. I try to brush away the thoughts of Therese, and pick off one of the pieces of sausage, dropping it into my mouth. “Yeah,” he says, “I think it’ll definitely work.”

“Ha,” Lucy smiles as she stares at her camera, and I wonder if she just has a funny picture on her digital film.

“You don’t think so?” Bern asks her which proves she doubts Gild’s story which means… “Why?”

“Think about it,” she says, and I blink at her. No wonder Edward’s kept her around, ignoring her stubbornness, she’s just like him. “Did America care when they dumped their own citizens in internment camps? Did America care when they just ‘X’ed out the right to bear arms? No. They didn’t care because there was a bigger crisis at hand. Same goes here.”

Bern grimaces, looking down at her. “You can’t honestly think that.”

“Sure, I can,” Lucy says, resting her camera on the table. “People will be angrier at the President for lying than about the actual thing.”

I stare at her skeptically, not sure if she actually believes this, or if she just wants to be a pain.

“I’m…just…saying…” she mutters as she rips the fruitless grape branch in half.

Bern rests a strong hand on her shoulder and coldly says, “Shouldn’t you be working?”

Lucy jerks her shoulder out of his grip, and gets up, reaching for her camera, “Fine,” she mutters, “I’ll see you guys later.”

Bern watches her leave the room before his dark eyes land on me. He looks tired and old, wrinkles lengthening the seams of his lips. “Are you okay?” he asks me as he sits in Lucy’s vacant chair.

“Yeah,” I say numbly, bobbing my head slowly. “It’s just…well, I’ve never had to…” I shrug feebly.

“Bare your soul?” Bern raises an eyebrow, taking a swig of his drink, “Yeah, I get it.”

Do you? I wonder. I push the plate of pizza away from me. I was wrong. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t handle eating a piece of pizza. I frown and look towards the floor.

“Why do you want to know about VitCorp?” Bern asks after about a minute—I counted the number of clicks the clock made with every second in the silence.

I look at him. “Does it matter?”

“Well, no…” he says, “But I figure your curiosity has to do with something, and I thought that something might be able to help us find out more.”

I hesitate, taking in a sharp breath. “A woman tried to stop me on the train. She was a Corpse.”

Bern’s eyes widen, “A Corpse? So you think she was working with Eden?”

“That’s the only thing that makes sense,” I say, crossing my arms.

Bern scratches his chin, “It’s just a bit odd. Considering Project Eden indirectly shut VitCorp down.”

“Well, maybe the Corpses are sick of being homeless and wanted a job,” I suggest half-heartedly.

“Maybe,” he says, “But why a job hunting some kid?”

I bite my lip, feeling sick. I suppose it is strange. Bern’s a doctor. It’s his science to figure things out, like Edward. My head buzzes with feverish thought. Bern doesn’t think it makes sense. And he’s helping me understand that too. Maybe Lucy knows.

“You must be some kid who’s very special,” he picks up one of my slices of pizza and bites off the tip with a smile.

I sit in the hallway close to the elevator, with my back against the wall. The light in the sky has almost been extinguished, and Bern has left for home. An hour before he left, Edward had burst through the door of his office, cursing so loud his voice cracked, and demanded why he came down with writer’s block of all days. Bern suggested a change of scenery which seemed to set a spark Edward’s blue eyes, and in under five minutes, the editor had gathered his things and stepped into the elevator without another word.  

Lucy had left her bag on the coffee table. I thought maybe she would have come back for it, but it seems she’s forgotten. I slide my socked feet against the wood floor, waiting. Because that’s all I could do even if she never showed up.

But she does. The hollow ding of the elevator jolts me up to my feet, and she strides into the hall, her hair falling into her red, frazzled face. “It’s here, right?” she gasps anxiously, brushing past me.

“Yeah,” I say, rubbing my eyes and following her into the room.

She lets out a puff of air and picks up her bag, rummaging her hand through it and pulls out a chain with a hook of keys.

“I need to talk to you,” I take a seat on the couch and beckon her to do the same.

“Can it wait?” she asks impatiently, “I need to get home.”

“It’ll only take a moment,” I smile at her.

“Okaaay,” she responds, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. She stays where she is, standing.

“How did you know about VitCorp?” I ask, clasping my hands together.

Her eyebrows jump up in surprise. “The…internet? I don’t know, Garrett,” she shakes her head and slings the bag across her shoulder, “It’s common knowledge.” She’s hiding something.

Lucy starts for the elevator, but I quickly stand and grab her arm, pulling her back. Her wide eyes are staring up at me, glistening with moisture. The look of fear in her eyes, makes my stomach flip and I loosen my grip, but I don’t let go. “No,” I shake my head at her, “You’re lying.”

Lucy’s eyes grow cold and her lower lip curls in a snarl, “Just because you’re a lie, Garrett, doesn’t mean you know them all.”

“Then why were you the only one who seemed to know about it!” I growl, irritation warming my cheeks.

“What are you talking about?” Lucy demands, “Bern told you all about it!”

“Religion,” I say the one word like that’s the only explanation I need for holding her here. It was good enough at the time.

But now I’m not so sure.

“So what,” she spits at me, “I said they studied religion. That one fact doesn’t make me a freaking expert! What does it matter anyway?”

I bite my lip hard, feeling dizzy. My hand slips from her wrist, and I stumble onto my knees, scrunching my eyes shut. Why did I think VitCorp studying religion was important…why did I think the company was important at all?

Garrett!” Lucy yells in my face and squeezes my shoulders. I open my eyes and stare at her, incoherent.

“What’s the matter with you?” Lucy breathes, the anger still in her eyes, but her face has softened with concern.

“I don’t know,” I murmur. And I really don’t know. I look into her eyes, and I see a rim of gold around her pupils that I hadn’t noticed before. Her eyes are beautiful. And right now, they’re deceiving me. I know they are.

“Gosh, Garrett,” she gasps when she touches the side of my jaw. “You’re cold…freezing, actually.” Her lips crease into a grimace.

“Lucy,” I begin, rearing my head back, so her hand falls from my face. “I know you have a connection with VitCorp…just tell me what it is.” I blush at my own words. I hardly know her, and I’m demanding stories of her past.

“I don’t,” she says a little too quickly. “Let me help you up.” She stands and grabs my sweaty hands and leads me back to the couch, sitting me down.

Lucy looks towards the elevator, swinging her bag at her feet. “It’s getting late. I have to go.” Her gaze returns to me, and she looks almost…sad, “Get some rest, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She walks away from me, and I clear my throat, “Lucy. You’re hiding something. You’re lying to me. After Eden…” I swallow, “It’s hard for me to trust people, and…you’re making it very hard for me to trust you. I can’t help but think that maybe…that…”

“I’m not hiding a torture chamber in my backyard if that’s what you think,” Lucy says calmly. I hear the elevator doors open, “But maybe,” there’s a tightness to her voice, “I have some trust issues of my own.”

I have to assume by the sound of closing doors, and the echo of silence, that I am now alone.

Thanks for reading everyone! See you next week with more chapters! xoxo, Liv