The Forgotten

Kept At Bay

So, without a plan, we get into the van. I struggle against myself. I'm debating whether or not I should tell Rubin the truth. I wonder if he already knows. Would his parents dare tell him he's their biological son? Maybe that's why he got so angry at his mother last week.

Shain distracts me from my thoughts.

"How do you suppose we get from the coast to Kazakhstan?" I shrug. Geography wasn't my best subject, but I was decent.

"Give me a map," Will orders. Rubin throws him a dirty look. Will looks annoyed. "I'm not playing you. I know where to go. I was Forgotten two hours ago. I know where the strongholds are."

Shain and I exchange glances. There are at least a dozen reasons not to trust Will. Trouble is, whenever I look at him too closely, I can't think of any of them.

President Crest says from the driver's seat, "Just give the boy the map." He throws a crinkled one back at us. Will takes it and with a flourish returns it to its initially flat state.

"This one of the world?" Will inquires, studying it closely. I recall he was decent as biology, better than I was anyway.

"It's all we've got," Rubin snaps. "But, yes, most of the world anyway." I notice we have the same speech pattern, the tendency to add a word as an afterthought. I wonder if Raven did that too.

"There," Will says, pointing at the coast of Western Europe. "Tell Mr. Bristill to head to the Mediterranean coastland. Our fortifications aren't as strong there. The Forgotten got better lifestyles, so they didn't need to rebel. Therefore, it won't have a Storming of the Bastille vibe."

"I'll call him," Shain says, pulling out her phone. "Everyone, hush up."

Carefully she relays the plan to Mr. Bristill. While she does that, I check with the President—my father—about how long till we reach the rendezvous point.

"Not much longer..."

"Eris," I remind him. This feels weird, really weird. It'd be like if I ever saw Raven, if she wasn't dead. I wouldn't know how to act or what to say. It'd be utter disaster.

"Yes, Eris," he says. "I'm sorry we couldn't take you, and your sister, I truly am." I shrug.

"It's nothing," I tell him. "I wouldn't be who I am if it weren't for that little plug in the system."

"Shame about Raven though," President Crest says. "Neither of us got to know her." Yeah, it really is.

Shain hangs up the phone.

"We almost there?" she asks. I nod and crawl back to join her.

"Good," Shain says. "I can get away from Will sooner."

"He's not so bad," I say quietly. Shain smiles.

"To you, yeah, he's a good guy. He wants to gut the rest of us though."

"He wouldn't,: I remind her. "Not without risking the wrath or me." Shain grins.

"That's assuring." I glare at her, only half serious. Shain raises her hands in surrender. "What? I wasn't being sarcastic. That does assure me."

Accepting her answer, I sigh. I'm exhausted. I didn't go to sleep all night after Will's betrayal. I get the feeling tonight will be the same, just more hectic.

President Crest drives us to the bay. Hordes of people, probably informed of the plan by Mr. Bristill, are boarding a large cruise-like ship. I guess that was the biggest ship they could find. I hope it can navigate the narrow Mediterranean Sea.

"Eris! Shain! President Crest!" Mr. Bristill calls for us. He is standing by the dock closest to the cruise ship. Not too close to the crowds, but close enough to monitor.

We approach him and find he is not alone. Standing nearby is Lance.

I feel the temptation to punch him, but rise above it. Maybe Will wouldn't be so hostile towards me and the group if I had listened to his story before I attacked him.

"What do you want?" I ask coldly. Lance doesn't seem surprised by attitude. Good. He understands the gravity of the situation, unlike Will, who told me he killed Jess and expected me to be just as usual with him.

"I want to talk about Raven," Lance states. President Crest's expression changes. He walks briskly up to Lance and hoists him up by the collar of his shirt. He barely gets him an inch off the ground though.

"How dare you speak her name, you horrible boy!"

Before Lance can defend or condemn himself, gunshots are fired. Everyone screams and bends down to avoid the array of bullets showering down. I hear some people scream. No one falls down dead though.

"Did I, President Brace, give all of you permission to leave?" a voice booms over the intercom. I scowl. I should have shot him when I had the chance. I might have become a killer, but then he couldn't be.