Mortal - Chapter 28

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

I sit at a table, scrolling through web articles on Lucy’s computer, trying to find anything of importance on the problem of immortality. I sigh, rubbing a hand over blood-shot eyes as I absently click out of another website. It’s almost two in the morning, and although I know—I can feel my body begging for reprieve, my mind is too restless to submit to a good night’s rest.

After driving for nearly six hours, we stopped at a motel near the state-border of Kansas with little trouble. The biggest concern, logistically speaking, is that we’re running low on money. We can’t use Lucy’s credit card unless we want to send up a flare alerting Project Eden of our location. Our funds are reduced to the amount of cash brilliantly pocketed by Lucy before we left the magazine.

My eyes drift up, over the laptop screen, to rest on Lucy’s small form laying on the bed. Her back faces me and her arms and legs are tucked in close, creating a misshapen ball. I know she’s awake, but I play ignorant, allowing her time for herself, to be alone, to not pretend everything’s all right. Because it sure as hell isn’t.

During the drive here, after an hour of tense silence, Lucy managed to tell me what Edward had said to her. Arthur Paracot had been calling him, demanding Edward to hand me over, or he would take away Edward’s most prized possession, The Gilded Age. Once Edward knew that Paracot actually did have the jurisdiction to seize the magazine, it was an easy choice. He had hoped Lucy would see it his way, and stay with him. But she hadn’t. She chose me.

She gave up the only security she’s ever had, for me, some guy she’s known for about a week. I know she’s hurt. She was betrayed by someone she called a brother. And now she’s on the run from the government because she chose to stay and help me. I want to tell her how much it means to me, but I don’t know how, and I know it isn’t the time or place to show her how I feel.

But Lucy’s strong. And she’s going to be okay.

I swallow the rest of my can of soda, in one gulp, continuing to browse the web. There’s so much government censorship now, it’s hard to find any information of use. Theories on why immortality happened, or possible ways to effectively kill oneself are almost plucked off the web immediately to staunch the uprisings of chaos. It’s frustrating, but I am determined to find answers, no matter how superficial these web-produced answers may be.

“Garrett. You need to sleep.” A soft voice in the depths of the dark room. I grimace, ignoring the warm presence, and click on a blog that just recently got published.

The lamp by the beds flickers on, casting the room in long shadows. There’s a shifting of fabric, and then a hand on my shoulder, and Lucy’s behind me.The web browser suddenly freezes, and when I try to refresh the site, it’s gone. Poof. Just like that.

“Damn it,” I mutter, reverting back to the main menu of the search engine, fumbling to think of something else to look for.

“Garrett.” The hand on me squeezes, almost painfully.

I shrug away from it, typing urgently. “I’m not tired.”

Her grasp on my shoulder wilts away and drops, and I bite the inside of my cheek hard, knowing I’ve hurt her. Because what an obvious, blatant lie. I can barely keep my eyes open, and I’m running out of coins to load up on caffeine. She chooses to sit across me.

My eyes shoot up to her, and I immediately regret it. Her face is wet and puffy like she’s been silently crying this entire night. She doesn’t look angry or determined or rebellious like she normally does. She looks sad, and the sight of her like this knots my stomach.

She must have noticed my probing gaze, for she lets out a puff of air, looking to the ash tray pushed to the corner of the table. “It’s overwhelming,” she admits, but nothing more.

“Yeah,” I nod my head, slowly, “It is.” Now maybe if I try looking up something to do with—

“I think we should talk about this,” Lucy says, distantly.

I wait, tapping my finger arrhythmically against the laptop. Does she mean Edward...or something else?

“We need to figure out...a game plan,” she announces, biting at her lip. She smiles humorlessly, “I can’t live like this...in this limbo.”

I rest my chin in the palm of my hand and nod. “I have been researching.”

“Yeah, but without any sense of direction, right? We need a purpose.” Lucy specifies, leaning into the table.

A purpose. I struggle not to laugh.

“Without...Edward,” Lucy chokes on the name, “We can’t expose the government’s secrets. You and me, well, we have no credibility, no authority.”

My eyes narrow once I realize that she has no need for a brainstorming partnership, having already decided what we should do. “Then what do you have in mind?” I trigger the proposal.

Her body language turns sheepish, and she shrinks in on herself, smiling awkwardly. She lets out a puff of air, staring deeply into my empty can of soda, “If you can’t beat them, join them.”

My stomach stiffens too slow, and it feels like I’ve been punched in the gut. Hard. My face flares out, but I try to speak to her with a slow, even voice, “Lucy. What are you talking about.” Does she regret choosing me over Edward, realizing that I am a lost cause, not a causality worth fighting for? I push the thought out of my mind.

She seems to read the dread on my face, and shakes her head jerkily, reaching for my hand. I want to pull away, but I wait. “No, no, no, no, no. That’s not what I mean. I’m saying...well I think it’s in our best interest to try to figure out how to die.”

Now I do pull away, and rise from my seat, “You think we should help Eden?! After what they’ve done? No way. No way.”

Lucy sighs, “Garrett. You’re not listening to me. We won’t stoop to Project Eden’s methods, of course not. But if we can figure out how to die, Project Eden will be forced to shut down. That was always our goal. It’s just…a different way in getting there.”

My eyes cross the room, my mind a whirlwind carrying debris from random thoughts. Part of me still thinks it’s wrong, like we’re giving up on what we’ve stood for: Defying the corrupt, but Edward’s betrayal has deflated any possible resolve. My mouth forms a thin line, and I finally bring my eyes down to meet hers.

“And how exactly can we do this?” I can’t hide the skepticism in my voice. If Project Eden has governmental backing in more than one country, maybe there isn’t another way.

Lucy sighs, rubbing a hand across her forehead. “It’s going to take a long time,” she admits, “Especially when it’s just us. But…I might know where we can start.”

“And?”

“VitCorp.”

“VitCorp? You think we should work with the Corpses?” I blink quickly, shock turning my voice hoarse.

Lucy closes her eyes for a long time, trying to prevent herself from snapping at me. I actually want her to, though. Anything would be better than this new resigned and sad girl.

“No,” she says evenly, before opening her eyes again, “With all these connections between them and Eden, well, they must be working together now. But just because they’ve given up on their cause, doesn’t mean we have to.” Her large eyes glimmer as if she’s just realized something, and she turns the laptop around to face her and starts to type.

“What are you—“

She shushes me before I can get my words out. Biting the inside of my cheek, I sit at the edge of the bed, impatiently.

“I knew it,” she hisses after a moment, “Marysville.”

I look up at her, waiting for her to elaborate.

“One of VitCorp’s sites is based in Marysville, Kansas. That’s actually where I was brought for questioning when…” her face flushes pink, “You know.” She clears her throat, looking away nervously, “They never demolished the building, and…” she fingers the mouse on the laptop, “It looks like a Preservation Mandate was placed on it. Who knows what’s left in that place, and it’s only about an hour and a half away from us.”

I shake my head slowly, trying to keep up with her composed excitement. “Preservation Mandate?” I ask, scratching my head.

“It’s a protection the government uses to preserve history and research…given what’s happened, it’s come in handy a few times, and I’m sure it will continue to do so.”

“Okay,” I say, still not convinced, “But how much do you think is left in the building? You think they just leave…access to their database lying around?”

“I don’t know,” she retorts, almost coldly, “But it’s the best we got.”

“Perfect,” Sarcasm spits from my mouth before I can hold myself back.

Lucy jumps to her feet, green eyes glinting with cold anger and muscles stiff. “What do you expect us to do?! Just send you off to Paracot in handcuffs?”

I recoil, edging closer to the bed, surprised by her loss of temper.

“I get it,” she says, seething, “You’re just trying to be realistic. But it isn’t helping. Because if we’re realistic,” Lucy slaps her hand on her thigh, “We might as well give up now, because we’re literally screwed.” She looks away from me, biting her lip.

Each one of her words hits me like a ton of bricks, slamming into any residue of my resolve. Because it is hopeless. And this is proof that she knew this all along. “Lucy,” I begin, slowly approaching her until she’s an arm’s length away. I wait for her to meet my gaze, “Why did you leave with me?”

“I…” she closes her eyes, but just for a moment. “I couldn’t. Not when I knew that it was wrong. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I—“ she clenches her teeth together, cutting off her phrase, hesitant.

“Lucy, you didn’t ask for this. I wouldn’t blame you if you chose to jump out now. I couldn’t. I literally just landed in your life, asking no permission whatsoever.”

“More like collapsed,” she corrects half-heartedly, a weak smile playing at her lips.

But I can see that she’s thinking, her eyes growing distant. Perhaps she is reconsidering running away to help me. Dread drops to the pit of my stomach like toxic ooze as I wait for her to say more. I don’t want her to leave, I don’t want to be alone again, but I think about her, abandoning any security she’s ever had, and I know I have to give her this opportunity to change her mind.

“Garrett, no,” Lucy quickly shakes her head, and a hiss of air escapes my lips. “I’m not leaving you. I’m not. I can’t. I…I believe in this cause. I believe in us.”

She smiles at me sheepishly, shrugging one of her shoulders. And I can’t help myself. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into an embrace, resting my chin on her head. “Thank you,” I whisper, closing my eyes against the rush of relief.

She squeezes me back tight, “You’re welcome. But don’t you ever back-talk me again.”

To Marysville we go.