Page 4 of Oblivion


  I want to do what he asks, but my body isn't in tune with my mind. The numbness is spreading like a virus, my eyelids lower, and my heart gives in to the nothingness taking over my body.

  I'm sorry. I really am--

  "Tracker!" Blaise suddenly shouts over the howling wind.

  A surge of adrenaline pulsates through my body, and my eyes snap open.

  In the distance, I spot the metallic snake, heading straight for us.

  Chapter 5

  The Heart of a Snake

  The Tracker slithers up and down through the air toward us, its metallic body glinting against the red light glowing across the sky. Dirt sprays everywhere as the monster cuts through the ground, the land quaking in protest.

  "Dammit," Ryder curses, yanking me against him. "Drive faster!"

  "I can't," Blaise growls. "The throttle is floored."

  "Then make a hard right and drive near the top of the cliffs!" Ryder yells. "Maybe if we're close enough to the fault, it'll keep its distance."

  "You want me to drive along the ledge?" Blaise asks, confounded. "Do you know how dangerous that is?"

  "Since when do you care about danger?" Ryder grips me as the motorcycle jostles to the side.

  In the distance, the dirt splits open from the burst of another hole. Then, curving downward, the Tracker dives back into the dirt, sending the motorcycle swaying against the impact. Blaise manages to get it under control and continues forward.

  "Since it involves other people," Blaise mutters so softly I barely hear him.

  "Okay. Good point," Ryder says. "But trying to outrun a Tracker might be as dangerous."

  Blaise mumbles incoherently under his breath then lets up on the gas a bit. "Hang on!"

  Ryder secures his grasp on me to the point that his elbows are pressing into my stomach. "Just hang on. We won't let anything happen to you--"

  Blaise makes a sharp veer to the right toward the cliffs, and we nearly topple off. Ryder holds on tightly, keeping us on the seat as Blaise floors the gas, zooming right for the ledge. When he just about reaches the end, he fishtails the back end of the motorcycle around and lines us along with the top of the cliffs. Then he picks up speed again, driving so close that only a few inches separate us from a long, deadly fall.

  I want to look away from the seemingly bottomless hole, but since I can't move my head, I'm forced to endure my fear of heights, which might be a good thing. The fear I'm feeling seems to be increasing my heart rate and keeping me alive.

  "Are you sure you can't go any faster?" Ryder shouts as the motorcycle bumps against tremors vibrating across the ground. "It's coming up right behind us!"

  "I already told you I've got the damn thing throttled to the max!" Blaise shouts. "The city's only about a mile ahead. If we can make it there, we'll be fine."

  "We might not make it."

  "We'll make it."

  "They should really put guns on these things," Ryder grumbles. "I don't know why they don't."

  "Nowhere to put--"

  The Tracker bursts from the ground at the side of us, sending the motorcycle skidding toward the drop off. Blaise tries to correct our direction as rocks and dirt shower over us, but the back wheel skids out of control.

  Cursing, Blaise grips the brakes and the engine squeals in protest as we slam to an uncontrollable stop.

  I gasp as the back end starts to slide off the edge, while Blaise floors the gas again and the motorcycle surges forward.

  Straight for the Tracker.

  "Blaise ..." Ryder warns in panic.

  "I've got it," he assures him as he drives straight at the metal snake that is plunging in and out of the ground.

  "I'm not sure you do." Ryder delves his fingers into my hips, and his legs press into mine as he holds on to me firmly.

  "Yes, I do," Blaise replies confidently as we zoom toward the Tracker.

  I hold my breath as I wait for Blaise to turn around. Instead, he keeps driving straight at the snake.

  Dirt surrounds us as we get closer, and the motorcycle trembles violently, jostling my body around like a doll. Ryder holds on to me, scooting forward on the seat and pushing me forward so I'm wedged tightly between him and Blaise.

  "Okay, everyone, hold on," Blaise orders over a series of loud beeps.

  "Don't use the turbochargers," Ryder warns with a nervous edge in his tone. "You'll end up sending us straight into the Tracker."

  "Nope, just right through it."

  "What? Are you--"

  Boom!

  An explosion blasts from underneath me as the motorcycle surges forward so rapidly the air gets ripped from my lungs. My ears ring. My heart thrashes. My surroundings go black as we soar right into the belly of the snake. Fragments of metal claw at my skin; showers of sparks rain around me, scalding my skin; and a loud thudding reverberates inside my head.

  I lift my gaze, tracking the noise, and shock ripples through me.

  An enormous heart beats from above, surrounded by broken tubes and gadgets.

  Oh, my God, we're inside the Tracker.

  The bitter metallic scent in the air is smothering, and my lungs work extra hard to take short, gasping breaths. Then, as quickly as we entered the snake, we're bursting through the other side and into the dry air and bleeding red sky.

  Blaise lets out a deafening breath as he raises his head. Pieces of metal are stuck in his hair and the fabric of his jacket is covered with singed holes. From what I can tell, though, he appears okay.

  "Is Allura all right?" Blaise asks as he steers the motorcycle toward the city.

  "Yeah, I think so," Ryder says in shock. "I can't believe that just happened. I mean, we've done crazy shit before, but never like that."

  "Yeah, we have." Blaise flicks a glance over his shoulder. "Are you sure Allura's okay? Did you look her over?"

  Ryder's face appears in my line of sight, his gaze sweeping across my face. "She has a small cut on her forehead, but other than that, she's fine."

  I eye him over, too, and note a few blisters forming on his cheek, probably from the sparks that shot through the air. I want to reach up and soothe him, but my arms remain limp at my sides.

  "Is she still breathing?" Blaise asks, looking forward again.

  Ryder rests his forehead against mine, the heat of his breath warming my face.

  "Yeah, she's breathing," he murmurs. "But she's still not moving."

  "She'll be fine. We just need to get her to the station," Blaise insists. "Is Reece behind us?"

  Ryder's breath puffs against my cheeks as he exhales. Then he leans back and peers behind us. "He's a ways back, but since the Tracker is dead, he should be okay."

  They grow quiet after that as we race toward the city. The more the stillness settles amongst us, the quieter my heart becomes. I want to scream at the top of my lungs for someone to scare me again since the adrenaline rush seemed to keep me alive. However, my lips remain numbly fused together, and my eyelids eventually slip shut.

  I wait to fall into a memory, but all I see is darkness.

  Lots and lots of darkness.

  Chapter 6

  Borrowed Time

  I remain floating in the darkness without a single memory manifesting. The emptiness makes me question if I'm dead. Perhaps the Kiss of Death was my kryptonite, the one thing that could kill me permanently. Maybe the Watchers knew that.

  The idea that I could very well be dead unleashes an array of emotions inside of me. On the one hand, for selfish reasons, I don't want my life to be over. One being that I'm not ready to say good-bye to Ryder, Reece, and Blaise. After spending so many years alone in my cell with nothing but torture and madness, it felt good to be around kind, caring people; to have a human connection. Yet, I can't help feeling a drop of relief that I may no longer exist, knowing the world and everyone in it may be better off without me.

  Will they really, though? a familiar voice whispers through the darkness.

  Who's there? I wonder. When no one answers, I try
again. Who are you?

  I'm you.

  What?

  Just relax. Everything is going to be okay.

  How do you know that?

  Because I'm your future.

  Before I can ask questions, the heavy darkness fades into a soft, pale light.

  "I think she's coming back," Reece's voice floats through the light and kisses my ears. "We need to get her hooked up to the Oblivion before she fades again."

  "Are you sure it'll work?" Blaise questions over the hammering of footsteps.

  "It won't cure her," Reece explains over the rustling of fabric. "While someone is hooked up to the Oblivion, their lifespan is frozen. They don't age. They don't change. They can't die. Not until they're unhooked."

  "How long will she have to stay hooked up?" Ryder asks. Even though I can't see him, I'm fairly certain he's carrying me.

  "Until I can come up with a cure," Reece replies over loud banging.

  "So, she'll just be stuck in her own thoughts and memories until you find a way to save her?" Ryder's chest crashes against my cheek as he exhales a stressed breath. "All by herself? Living on borrowed time?"

  "I know it's not ideal," Reece says. "For now, though, it's the only way I can think of to keep her from dying."

  "I just hate the idea of her being all by herself." Ryder lightly traces his fingers across my lower back. "She just got out of the cells, and I feel like we're putting her back in."

  "I can go in with her." A drop of uncertainty wavers in Blaise's voice. "Not into the Oblivion, but I can go into her mind."

  Ryder stops moving. "When did you learn how to do that?"

  "When we were stuck in the Forsaken camp and she was stuck in dreamland," Blaise tells him. "It happened by accident when I was trying to push thoughts into her mind, but I'm positive I can do it again."

  "She could be in there for a while," Reece says, the swishing of water rising in the background.

  Water? Flowing water? Where are we?

  "What's your point?" Blaise snaps.

  "I just want you to know how big of a commitment this is." Reece pauses, as if giving Blaise time to back out. "Okay, if you're sure, then take her from Ryder and get into the water. I'll bring over the plugs and let you hook them up to her."

  "Just hang on until Reece finds a cure, okay?" Ryder whispers to me before he shifts me forward in his arms. "You got her?"

  Lean, muscular arms slip underneath my lower back and legs. "Yeah, I got her."

  "Good." Ryder releases me. "Make sure it stays that way. Don't let her go."

  "Are you giving me orders?" Blaise asks, adjusting me around until my cheek presses against warm flesh.

  "I might be," Ryder say with a hint of amusement.

  Blaise's arms twitch underneath me. "Considering the circumstances, I'll let you off the hook this time. But don't ever do it again."

  "Just keep her safe and alive, okay?" Ryder pleads, his humor deflating.

  Blaise doesn't answer, but I assume he nods because Ryder doesn't say anything else.

  My cheek remains against Blaise's chest as he moves us upward. Then, sucking in a sturdy breath, he lowers us downward again. Moments later, warm water cascades over my body, drenching my clothes and rising to my chin. I start to gasp for air when gentle prickles prod against my skin and the oxygen is ripped from my lungs.

  "It's okay," Blaise reassures me, holding me steady in his arms. "The machine is just hooking up to you."

  Panic zaps through my veins, and my eyelids fly open. Bright light pierces my vision as my surroundings gradually come into focus.

  A metal beamed ceiling arches above me, fluorescent lights glaring from the corners, and large pipes pump crystal blue water into the glass pool that Blaise and I are standing in. That's not the craziest part.

  Long, thin metal tubes stretch from the steel walls and attach to my arms, legs, and neck. Never have I seen anything like it, not even when I was at the channels. And while I don't think Reece, Ryder, or Blaise will do anything to hurt me, I instinctively open my mouth to scream. Again, not even a whisper fumbles from my lips.

  Blaise smooths my hair out of my face before closing his eyes. "All right, Reece, I'm ready. You can turn it on."

  Seconds drag by, and then the water starts to bubble like boiling hot lava. My panic increases as the lights above flash on and off. Water spews from the pipes, showering across my face and neck. I gasp, my anxiety reaching a terrifying level. However, Blaise seems unbothered as he gently presses his fingertips to my temples, water beading his face and hair.

  "Everything will be okay," he whispers. "I promise."

  I manage to take one final breath before my entire body is submersed in water. I squeeze my eyes shut. My chest stops moving as my heart flatlines. I try to writhe as water fills up my nose. Still, the water continues to bury me.

  All I can do is trust that Blaise will carry out his promise.

  Chapter 7

  The Seemingly Empty World

  My eyelids spring open, and I suck in a large breath of air. Not a single noise touches my eardrums, the soundlessness sending a rush of undiluted terror through my veins.

  Bolting upright, my gaze drops to my body, which is no longer drenched in water. Not even the tattered dress I've been wearing for days has a drop on it.

  Blinking several times, I take in a blue sky, the grimy brick walls around me, and then the strangely familiar ground I'm sitting on. I run my fingers along the cold, bumpy surface, the name gradually clicking.

  "Asphalt." I frown. How do I know that? This wasn't in the red sky planet. It could have been in the Leviter Station, though. Could that be where I am?

  I peer around the alleyway crammed with overflowing and toppled garbage cans. No, there's no way this smelly, dirty place could be the station. Maybe this is the Broken City. Then why does the sky appear blue underneath the smog? My blue-skied world, perhaps? Why doesn't it feel like I'm there?

  "Allura! Can you hear me?" Blaise's voice carries down the alleyway.

  My knees wobble as I battle to get my balance. "Over here ..." My voice cracks as the world spins around me. I brace my hand against the brick wall to keep from falling. "I'm ... here."

  "Allura!" he shouts again. "Can you hear me?"

  I clear my dry throat and force my voice to come out stronger. "Yes! I'm over here!"

  Footsteps grow louder with each passing second. I angle my head to the right and spot a figure jogging toward me. For a second, I worry it might be a stranger. Then I note the blond hair shaved on one side, the metal facial piercings, and the most intense eyes I've ever seen.

  Instantly, I relax. "Blaise."

  "I thought I'd lost you for a second." He stops when he reaches me, sweeping hair out of his eyes. "Are you all right?"

  I nod, trying not to gawk at his bare chest, but my gaze has other ideas and keeps wandering downward.

  Muscles cut every inch of him, and his flesh is covered with dark ink that forms intricate lines, patterns, and shadings of faces, unique names, and odd symbols. That artwork is absolutely gorgeous. What really captures my attention is the bronzed metal embedded in his skin over his heart, along his collarbone, and down his ribs. I don't understand what I'm looking at, but one word comes to mind.

  Beautiful.

  "So, now are you afraid me?" he asks in a hard tone.

  My attention drags upward to his cold, hard eyes that would send any normal person running with fear. However, I manage to keep my feet firmly planted in place.

  "No. Why would I be afraid of you?"

  He stares me down. "You see what I am now. You understand that I'm not really human, right?"

  "I kind of already knew that." I curl my fingers inward, fighting the urge to reach out and touch the metal, unsure whether he'd find the move rude. "Is that why you're so strong? Because of the metal on your body?"

  The muscles in his jaw spasm. "Partly, but there's more to it than that."

  I chew on my thumbnail, gla
ncing from his metal-patched chest to his face. "Can you tell me what else there is? I mean, why are you so strong?"

  He grinds his teeth, shame flooding his eyes. "Because I'm a monster. I already told you that."

  Without thinking, I place my hand lightly on his arm. "You're not a monster."

  He stares down at my hand on his arm, his eyes widening. "How do you know for sure?"

  I shrug, lowering my hand from him. "You've saved me countless times. You didn't try to kill me when you found out I may have Grim's blood in me. There are a lot of reasons why you're not a monster, Blaise." Unlike me.

  His eyes soften as his gaze unites with mine. "You should give your speech to yourself." Before I can say anything, he slants to the side and peers behind me. "So, what is this place?"

  I glance at the end of the alleyway where various sizes of rusted vehicles line the road. "I'm not quite sure."

  His gaze travels to the sky. "The sky is blue."

  "Yeah, I noticed that, too."

  "This is your blue-skied world, then?"

  "I don't know." I trace my fingers along neon green, yellow, and pink letters painted across the brick wall. "The end is coming." "Machines have won." "Look at what you've done." The familiarity of the words sends a shudder through me. "In some ways, it looks similar. In others ..." I glance behind me again. "I don't remember the world being so quiet and still."

  "You've been here before." It's not a question. "The Oblivion surfaces memories, not dreams."

  Confusion dances in my mind. "This doesn't make any sense. If this is a memory, then why can't I remember being here before?"

  "Maybe you need to see more of it." Blaise nods his head, signaling for me to follow him as he strides down the narrow alleyway.

  I hustle after him, staying close, the tail of my torn dress dragging across the ground. When we arrive at the end of the alley, he slows to a halt, right before the asphalt changes to concrete. Resting his shoulder against a brick wall, he slants forward and peeks around the corner. Then he steps back, running his hand over the shaved side of his head with his brows dipped.

  "What's wrong?" I zip up my jacket as cold air begins to nip at my exposed skin.