Beyond Reach Read online

  When he finally releases me, my entire body almost folds in on itself in relief. I look around at him, and his gaze is intense. My eyes narrow suspiciously, and he arches an eyebrow innocently. He may look angelic, but oh yeah, he knew what he was doing all right.

  We’ve secured the hatch and are descending the tunnel when her high-pitched tone slams my ears. “Where were you?” the witch—Micha—asks. Accusation laces her tone.

  “Mind your own business,” I seethe.

  “Ari!” Zane cautions me silently.

  “We were walking in the woods. Is there any rule against that?”

  “No, but extreme caution is essential. You’re too valuable to us.” I can sense how much of an effort it is to say this out loud, even though it’s not actually true. And despite Zane’s warning, I can’t help myself.

  “We both know that’s not true. The only thing you value is the information. Tell me again, what exactly is contained in this secret file?”

  “Ariana, you know that’s classified.” She pins me with a look, barely concealing her contempt.

  “Well, so is its whereabouts.”

  Twisting around, she ignores me. “Zane, there’s a War Council debriefing in one hour. Can you report to Central Control for an IT update, please?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Good.” Pivoting around, she strides forward without another word or look in my direction.

  “Riling her up isn’t doing you any favors, Ari.” Brushing a stray lock of hair from my face, his fingers linger on my cheek.

  I bristle at the contact. “I don’t care.”

  “Well, you should. Nothing will be achieved if you continue being so argumentative.” He drops his hand to his side.

  “I stopped being nice twenty days ago, when they took me here against my will,” I snap.

  “Nonetheless, you’re here now, and we have to play smart. Trust me on that.” I’m sure Zane is right, but I’m so angry all the time now, it’ll take conscious determination on my part to be more pleasant to Micha. Besides, I’d promised myself that I’d only transfer the information when I identified someone I could trust. And I haven’t found that person yet. My dad had suggested confiding in Agent Dale—he’s the senior officer in charge of military operations within Clementia and the one who orchestrated the escape plan from Novo—but I’m still furious with him for thwarting my attempt to return for Mom and Lily the day of our escape. Sensing that holding onto it is the right course of action, I know if I hand it over now there’s no incentive whatsoever to bring the rest of my family back.

  “Zane, I know you know where I’m keeping the information. Why haven’t you told them?” I look up at him curiously.

  “My loyalty is with you and your family.”

  “Thank you.” Once again, I’m blown away by his unwavering commitment to me. Tentatively raising his hand, he runs his finger lightly across my cheek. Our eyes lock, and it’s hard to miss the surge of longing that flares in his eyes. Embarrassed, I look away.

  “Come on; let’s squeeze in a workout before I’ve to attend the War Council meeting.” Nodding, I’m thankful that he’s let the subject drop. His blatant love for me always invokes a myriad of conflicting emotions.

  Clearly unhappy when she spies Zane and me, walking hand-in-hand into the room, Isla throws a vicious swing at the punching bag in obvious annoyance. My natural instinct is to throw a gloating look her way, but that would only upset Zane, so I repress the urge and saunter into the female locker room without acknowledging her at all.

  When I reappear, a familiar tall lady is preparing to address the group. I first met Agent Leena the day of our escape from Novo to Earth. The willowy blonde is Agent Dale’s second-in-command, charged with responsibility of the training unit. “What’s all this about?” I ask Zane, as he materializes alongside me. He shrugs.

  “Attention please,” she begins. Everyone goes mute, giving her their full attention. “We’ve acquired a number of stealth-craft and are looking for volunteers to train as pilots. Given time constraints, all volunteers will be required to sit an entry exam. Those that pass will proceed to the training phase. Study materials are available on the central portal, and the exam date will be posted in due course. Any questions?” Everyone shakes their heads. “Okay. Continue with your training.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Isla heading our way. Super-duper. “I’m looking for a boxing partner, you game?” she asks Zane, studiously ignoring me.

  “Sure.” He shoots a cursory glance my way.

  “I’m fine, work away.”

  “He wasn’t asking for permission,” Isla says, scowling.

  “And I wasn’t talking to you.” I glare at her.

  “I’ll see you later, Ari,” Zane says, pinning with me with a cautionary stare. “Come on Isla.” She gives me a condescending victory wave as she follows him.

  “Cow.”

  “Ari, you promised. The two of you are driving me mad. This pettiness has got to stop.”

  “I’m fed up too. If she’ll call a truce, so will I.”

  “Okay. I’ll talk to her.”

  “Meet you for lunch?”

  “Of course!”

  Arriving at the kitchen first, I start compiling a healthy, chicken salad for us to share. Zane’s on a medically restricted special diet so the options are pretty limited. However, I know this is on his permitted list, and it’s a favorite. “Will that stretch to three?” he asks, approaching from behind. Immediately suspecting why he’s made this particular request, I swivel around and notice Isla smirking at his side.

  “I thought it was just the two of us?”

  “You promised.”

  “Fine. I’ll try.” I’m sick of wasting energy on the constant bickering between us; Zane isn’t the only one who’d benefit from a reprieve.

  “Is chicken salad okay?” I ask her.

  “Sure, Ari.” Recoiling at her use of my nickname, I force myself to let it go.

  We’re sitting at one of the long tables, eating our lunch in uneasy silence, when the screen springs to life in the living area. The government seal flashes brightly, indicating an official announcement. Clementia streams all of the authorities’ communications so we have some tentative connection to what’s happening above ground.

  Dropping my fork as if it’s red hot, I’m instantly distressed the minute my image appears in front of us. Zane looks sideways at me, his brown eyes wide in alarm. Sliding his fingers between mine, he clasps my hand firmly. I cling to his arm as I lean into him. Isla’s face contorts as if she’s just swallowed something sour.

  Registering the unusual stillness in the room, I listen in shocked silence as the commentator informs the public that I’m a wanted traitor evading capture on Earth.

  Unease claws at my insides and nausea rises at the back of my throat as the announcer continues, “A life on Novo is the reward on offer to the person, or persons, who apprehend Ariana Skyee and turn her over to the authorities.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Knowing that I won’t make it to the bathroom in time, I dash for the kitchen and heave into the sink. Not very ladylike, I know. Zane is beside me in a heartbeat, rubbing my back in a soothing, circular motion. Retching continuously, I throw up until there’s nothing left to purge. He hands me a paper towel, and I wipe my mouth clean. Splashing water on my face, I peek up at him.

  “Are you okay?” Concern is etched on his face.

  “What do you think?” For once, I’m not being a smart mouth.

  “You’re safe here. No one in Clementia will turn you in.”

  “You reckon? I think everyone has a price, and they’ve offered the perfect incentive.” Throwing the towel in the basket, I step away from the counter.

  “You know I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “Do you plan on being by my side twenty-four seven?” I retort.

  “That’s an appealing prospect, and one I can easily oblige.” There’s a hint of a smile on his face. Red blotches swirl across my chest, up my neck, and over my face, and there’s enough heat emanating from my skin to start a fire. Zane never says anything that could be deliberately construed as sleazy or suggestive, but he has this way of really crawling under my skin and delving deep. To be honest, I’m a little scared of it.

  “Dream on,” I say, biting down on my lip. “The information vial is the key to all this, and we need to find out what’s on it. Clementia desires it desperately, and President Calavero wants it back so badly that he’s seeking out informants on Earth. That in itself is risky, to be so open about all this.”

  “I don’t agree. This way he can handle two issues at once. Think about it; get the information back, and send a message to the populace—disobedience isn’t tolerated, and they’ll hunt you down if you cross them.”

  “So, let’s find out what’s so critical that both sides would literally kill for it.”

  “We’ve talked about this, Ari, you know the risks. If there’s a tracker attached to the information, then the minute we extract and download it, we’ve surrendered Clementia’s location. We can’t take that chance.”

  “What about asking the witch? You, she likes,” I say, prodding him in the chest.

  “I’ve already asked, Ari, and she won’t tell me. Besides, I don’t want to reopen that particular can of worms. She’s just grilled me on why I can’t retrieve the specific location of the data from your mind. I explained that my gift doesn’t work like that, and then she rounded on Raina. She deflected it competently, but I could tell Micha wasn’t buying it fully.”

  Micha is right on this occasion. Raina is Clementia’s resident psychic consultant, and powerfully gifted. Zane and I continue to work closely with her, focused on developing our own unique t
alents. Raina has already accessed my mind and knows I’m keeping the file hidden in my arm. However, she shares my concerns regarding Micha’s true agenda, and I know she can be trusted to keep my secret safe.

  “Thanks. I owe you both. What else was discussed at the meeting? Anything I should be aware of?”

  “Nothing major.” Glancing sideways, I sense he’s holding out on me.

  “What are you hiding?” Perhaps it isn’t something he wants to say so publicly.

  “If I thought you needed to know I’d tell you. Anyway, I’m not allowed to discuss War Council business outside the debriefing.”

  “So you are hiding something?” I say loudly, wanting him to hear the annoyance in my voice.

  “Calm down, Ari. You’ve enough going on. Besides, it’s not important anyway.” He shrugs.

  “I’d like to be the judge of that. I thought we were a team? Guess I was wrong.” Pushing past him, I’m having a hard time controlling the anger that radiates off me in waves.

  I’ve had enough of secrets to last a lifetime.

  I’m stomping away when I hear the announcement, requesting my presence in Central Control.

  “I’ll come with you,” he immediately offers.

  “Don’t bother. Finish your lunch with Isla.” I know I’m completely over-reacting, but I don’t care, so I march off on my own. Zane doesn’t follow me, and that only makes me madder. It’s unfair to expect him to know what I want him to do, when I don’t even know it myself.

  I feel every pair of eyes on my back as I make my journey. When I open the hatch and haul myself out, I experience a mild panic attack before I run speedily through the long grass of the old baseball field that divides the operational and living quarters of the facility. My heart slams against my chest every step of the way. Once inside the entry tunnel, I stop, forcing myself to calm down. Gradually, my heart rate returns to normal. It’s hard not to notice the inquiring faces as I trek through the tunnels, en route to Central Control. For a split second, it feels like I’m back on Novo—everyone knowing who I am, my every move being carefully monitored. My loathing of unnecessary attention hasn’t dissipated in the slightest, and the thought of further scrutiny is depressing.

  Pushing through the doors of Central Control, I immediately spot Agent Dale, sprawled in one of the black leather chairs surrounding the oval-shaped table that takes center stage in the middle of the room. Holographic digital images sweep across the space as soldiers mill around. Micha Kloon is seated beside him, across from Chancellor Corr. Great. If I’d known about this welcoming committee, I most definitely would’ve taken Zane up on his offer. I’m instantly on guard. “Ariana, how are you?” Agent Dale asks, coming around the table and pulling out a chair for me.

  “I’ve been better,” I admit, plonking down.

  “You saw the broadcast then?” he asks, retaking his seat.

  “Yes.”

  “We didn’t see this coming.”

  “Why would you? Obviously, they want the information badly.” A thought flickers in my brain. Casting a sly, sideways glance at the witch, I sit up straighter in my chair when she meets my gaze sternly. “How do they know I haven’t given it to you already?”

  “We were wondering the same thing. We think there’s a tracking device attached which activates once the information is extracted. Considering that hasn’t happened, they’re naturally assuming there’s been no transfer yet,” Chancellor Corr says, twisting in his chair to face me. His knee brushes mine, and I instinctively push my legs in tight together. “We could make all this go away, if you’d just tell us where it is.”

  “Fine. Bring Cal, Lily, and my mom here, and I’ll hand it over.”

  “Ariana, we’ve been through this. We cannot make that happen now, but we give you our word—we’ll honor your request after the information has been transferred, and once we’re in a position to rescue them,” Chancellor Corr says, simultaneously grasping my hand. His skin is coarse and grainy like sandpaper. If it’s an attempt at sucking up, he’s failed. Honestly? It feels a little creepy.

  “And I’ve told you already, that’s just not good enough. The only reason the government is holding them captive is to use them as leverage—that’s the assumption we reached at the last meeting—so if I hand the information to you, the authorities will know it’s been compromised, and then the lives of those I cherish are at risk. You can’t guarantee their safety. How do you know the authorities won’t kill them the second I hand over the vial?”

  Extracting my hand, I look around the table. The silence is telling. “Exactly.”

  “We won’t tolerate this lack of cooperation indefinitely, Ariana. There are thousands of lives hanging in the balance; it’s not just about your loved ones. This is war, and sacrifices need to be made,” Micha adds.

  “Was there anything else?” I ask directly of Agent Dale. These conversations are becoming pure déjà vu, and my tolerance is waning considerably.

  “No, that’s all. You’re excused.”

  Spending a couple of hours in the training unit turns out to be the best form of therapy, and I leave feeling invigorated. The seeds of an idea are starting to take shape in my brain; a tiny kernel of hope is growing.

  Deciding to collect Deacon from school, I set out in a westerly direction toward the educational center. I’m completely absorbed in my thoughts the whole way there. Clementia has never felt like home, but even less so now. Every face I pass is inquisitive, and I feel cumbersome and heavy under the weight of all the stares. Hurrying quickly, I keep my head bowed and focus on my feet. My anxiety is lessened if I can’t see all the gawping.

  “Ari. Can I see you later?”

  “Sure, Zane.” Then I remember that I’m supposed to be cross with him. But it takes far too much energy to stay angry all the time, and I don’t like fighting with him; it makes me feel guilty, and there’s enough remorse swirling inside me as it is. Rounding the corner toward the educational center, I instantly spot my brother walking toward me. Or I should say, slouching, because if he was any more relaxed, he’d be horizontal. “Hey, Deacon. How was school?”

  “Boring,” he says, in a bland voice that I’m getting used to. His initial display of enthusiasm—the day of the move to Earth—quickly turned to one of open hostility. While I’ve taken my frustration out on the controlling factions within Clementia, Deacon has channeled all his in one singular direction—mine. While I understand the need to have someone to blame, I wish it wasn’t me. I keep hoping that he’ll come around, but he shares my stubborn streak, so I don’t know how long he’ll persevere. I’ve apologized to him profusely, to no avail. I know the only way I can truly make it up to him is to rectify the wrong. That’s a work in progress. For now, I continue doing what I’ve been doing the last few weeks: I ignore his sullen tone and its implication.

  “Let’s grab some dinner.” I link my arm through his, and I’m reminded that I’d barely eaten any lunch when my stomach growls loudly. Shoving my arm away, Deacon gives the briefest of nods to signal his consent. There isn’t much he won’t do for his love of food, even eating with his less-than-favorite sister, it seems.

  Entering the communal kitchen, I spot a familiar, pretty face. Mel bounds forward, smiling broadly, and links her arm through Deacon’s. He doesn’t push her away, and I feel an abnormal surge of jealousy. She‘s bonding with him fast, as if he were her own little brother. Forcing my jealousy aside, I have to admit that I’m glad Deacon has her, considering he’s so opposed to me presently. And I get it—she’s pining for Cal, as Deacon is pining for Mom and Lily; they have a common understanding of the void that occupies every waking moment.

  Thankfully, Deacon is less pre-occupied with safety concerns; he’s still too young to contemplate the exact dangers our loved ones are in. And I will do whatever it takes to shield him from it. But Mel comprehends the urgency of the situation and shares my fears. I’ve equally been clinging to her for solace, because it helps me feel connected to Cal.