 
Published by Laura Kreitzer at Smashwords

PHANTOM UNIVERSE

SUMMER CHRONICLES

book one

LAURA KREITZER

Revolution Publishing Inc.

Phantom Universe

Copyright © 2011 by Laura Kreitzer

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Phantom Universe (Summer Chronicles, #1)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011920056

First Edition

ISBN 13: 9781937790028 (ebook)

Dedicated to Lisa Langdale.

Without you no one would ever see

my writing come to fruition.

This is for you, bb.
AUTHOR'S NOTE

Dear Reader,

I would like to alert everyone of a colossal crisis that's gone unnoticed in the world: human trafficking. Did you know the U.S.A. is reported to be the host to two million slaves? I didn't—not until I was preparing to write this novel. The main character, Summer Waverly, was stolen as a child and sold as a slave to the captain of a modern-day pirate ship. From a loved child who only knew "time-out" as punishment, to being whipped into silence was something I knew nothing about. So I researched deeply into human trafficking and the psychological effects of torture of various types that one would endure in these circumstances. I felt shaken at my findings and knew I had to tell Summer's story, including some of the more gruesome details (This is a warning for those who are disturbed by torture. Though it's only briefly covered at the beginning, the scenes are raw and brutal).

A storm began brewing in my mind, transforming, morphing, twisting, and expanding into this massive, black cloud. I had to bring this tragic atrocity to the forefront. My own emotional experiences, mixed with the research I did on human trafficking, made me feel an intense connection with Summer, and to all women who've been through this kind of brutality. The cloud ruptured and rained all over my computer one day. It took one month to write Phantom Universe, the first in the Summer Chronicles. I was so consumed by the story that I wrote nearly nonstop, only breaking for necessary tasks like eating, showering, and occasionally—very occasionally—sleeping.

Though the book I've written would be classified as science fiction, or as I'd like to call it, dystopian, the emotions and psychological aspects are not science fiction—they're real. Through Summer's overwhelmingly horrendous past, she goes on more than just a physical journey in Phantom Universe, she goes on a psychological one as well—growing beyond her mute state to persevere and survive in a new world beyond the whip she's so frightened of.

I'm excited and terrified to share this story. I'm emotionally tied in every way to the words I've written, because they're more than words. More than just a story on a page. Beyond the fictional aspects, there's a real issue that needs to be addressed: human trafficking must be stopped. We shouldn't sit idly by while this continues to plague us. Our world's children—our nation's children—are being affected. It's time we take action!

I ask that you spread the word to everyone you know. Look up ways you can help and find a way to get involved in ending human trafficking. Take action today. Everyone has a voice—you have a voice. Will you have the courage to use it?

Laura Kreitzer

PHANTOM UNIVERSE
PROLOGUE

Doctor Mindy Waverly sprints up the stairs to her apartment near the University of Oxford. She constantly glances over her shoulder as terror bleeds into her every pore like an inferno of all seven hells synthesized. She knows it will happen this Sunday—the termination of the experiment. Overheard it, actually. And now she has to hide because they'll kill to protect their secret. The same secret Mindy will desperately try to protect against them. Termination isn't an option anymore; not after four years.

She slams her key into the door's deadbolt and twists the knob frantically. The door has jammed so often that she knows to hammer her shoulder into it. When it flies open, the alarmed babysitter, Amy, jumps to her feet.

"Jesus, Mindy! You scared me half to death. Why are you—" Amy's words are cut off by the frantic look in Mindy Waverly's dilated eyes.

"Where's Summer?" Her breath is short, and her tone's laced with panic.

Amy approaches her, uncertain. "She's taking a nap. Is everything all right?" Her eyebrows crease in concern.

Mindy's eyes are still wide in terror from overhearing the dreadful news, though relief washes over her in a cooling wave. She's okay! "Wake her!" she insists. When Amy doesn't move she shouts, "Now!"

Amy shoots down the hallway to little Summer's bedroom like the proverbial wildfires of hell are on her heels. She doesn't know why Mindy sounds and looks so panicked, but it rubs off on Amy as she shakes the sleeping child.

Mindy, on the other hand, becomes a frantic tornado through the house, sucking up what she needs and throwing back what she doesn't. She shoves random clothes into suitcases, snatches precious jewelry out of her bedroom, and opens her safe to seize the money she has saved through the years. She also grabs Summer's blanket and a few of her favorite books and stuffed animals. They said Sunday. That will give me two days to run and hide before they realize we're gone, she rationalizes. Amy returns with Summer who is sleepy-eyed and snuggled into Amy's shoulder. Before the babysitter understands what's happening, she's standing alone in the Waverly's apartment with her mouth ajar in the aftermath of the storm that is Mindy Waverly.

Mindy's long, brown hair twists wildly as she speeds away, the windows down to help calm her strained nerves. Summer, oblivious, giggles at her mum's peculiar haste but is excited to be leaving the house to go on some adventure. It isn't like her mum to take her out during the day. But what Summer doesn't know is that her life's in danger, and her mother's vigor is to save and protect her.

How can they even flirt with the idea of termination? Mindy wonders as she speeds south towards Portsmouth where she has friends they can stay with for the night while she tries to figure out what she'll do. She's just a child. Mindy glances in the rearview to see Summer's huge smile, one of her front teeth loose and crooked. An innocent.

As they drive along the coast, Summer sings out gleefully, unaware of the seriousness of the situation. She sings the Happy Birthday song over and over as she recalls her fourth birthday party the previous week. She makes her stuffed bunny dance on her lap as the scent of the ocean fills the car the closer they drive to the water—warm and inviting. It's been so long since she's seen the ocean and remembers the salty feel of the water along her skin. She loves it, but her belly rumbles. Hunger starts to show its ugly face, and the singing and ocean view loses its luster.

"Mummy, I'm hungry!" Summer whines.

Mindy tries to keep the panic from her voice so she won't scare Summer. "Sweetie, can it wait?" she asks and glances in the rearview mirror, silently cursing herself for not throwing some snacks in her purse. It isn't like her to be so careless of Summer's needs.

"Please?" Summer almost cries. She learned how to manipulate her mum at a young age, and polite manners always make Mindy crumple. Even today, when they are running for their lives, the added "please" breaks her.

"Okay sweetie, but we have to make it quick." Mindy pulls into a small bistro's parking lot near a shipyard.

On the veranda, Mindy shoots furtive glances in every direction as she bites her nails, unable to eat. Summer, on the other hand, has the freshest fish and chips ever and pats her stomach contentedly. This is also strange—her mother normally doesn't let her eat such greasy food. They are quick to pay and exit the small bistro. Mindy holds her hand as the salty air assaults their noses on the way to the small black car. A man with oily, charcoal-black hair stops them on their way in an attempt to sell some freshly cut fish.

"Fifty percent off for you, pretty lady," he entices, his black, beady eyes glowing.

Mindy, distracted, looks up and says, "What?" Her voice is startled, and she becomes suspicious as she takes in his scarred face. She pushes Summer behind her.

The man repeats what he said with a wink, and in that small space of time, the few seconds that the wink draws Mindy's attention away from Summer, everything changes.

"No thanks," she says and reaches behind her to take Summer's hand again, but she's gone. She looks back at the man, but he's nowhere in sight, like a giant hook in the sky came down and yanked him into the air. The fish market is mysteriously empty of people. Her heart picks up pace as she circles around and around in fear at the vacant scene. The world spins but is devoid of Summer. The afternoon's air fills with Mindy's cries and screams of desperation, each sound tearing and ripping from her throat. But Summer is nowhere that she can see.

Realization seeps into her like a fast-acting poison. They found her—the Secret Clock Society. And there is no competing with them. They are law.

That isn't going to stop Mindy, though. Her blue eyes narrow as she wipes the tears away. Termination isn't an option. It's war.

He who does not understand your silence

will probably not understand your words.

Elbert Hubbard

PART ONE

CONQUERED
CHAPTER 1: SURVIVAL

15 years old

Summer Waverly's observant. She's so quiet that most people pass her by with no notice whatsoever. There isn't a single crew member of the Cosmos that isn't under her watchful eagle-eye. It's not that any of this information is useful to her—quite the opposite, really. Who honestly cares about Phil's chip-stealing middle-of-the-night-binges, or Peter's habit of wearing his underwear for a week straight? This isn't the reason she surveys the area like a sentry; it's because at any moment of any day she might be the target of the whip.

This particular whip has personality. Its leather, smooth and aged, sings with glee as it cracks through the air with a thwack right before it slices into the depths of her skin and rips the very essence of her soul. It's unnatural how it knows exactly where to attack next. There isn't an inch of unscarred skin on her back. This is why she watches. But there is one thing that can stop the whip's excited leather from breaking her. Silence.

Summer hasn't spoken a single word in almost eleven years. As she slaves away on the Cosmos, she scrutinizes the free men working diligently. Jealousy consumed her once, but after all these years of slavery she's given up on freedom. It's just not in the cards for her. So she watches them and gains knowledge by eavesdropping on their conversations. Now it's all about survival on the rough seas as the pirates attack and pillage one ship at a time.
CHAPTER 2: STORM

15 years old

The Cosmos gently rocks in the raging seas as a flash of blinding light illuminates the dark, dingy kitchen cabin. The dishes rattle as thunder roars like a hungry beast through the electrically charged air. Summer hides under the prep table instead of cooking dinner for the entire crew like she's supposed to be doing. This type of behavior's not normal—unless it's storming. Landon, her only friend and ally, boils the water for rice and places rolls in the oven. They know if dinner isn't served at exactly nine that evening they will be punished. And the whip is to be avoided at all costs.

"Ducky, ye all right?" Landon asks distractedly in his Scottish accent before dumping chicken in a skillet.

She taps twice from underneath the prep table where she hides. One tap for yes, two taps for no. It's their signature language. Before he taught her to read and write, he was great at playing twenty questions.

Summer's silence never falters. Along with her voice, she also left a part of herself back on land. In eleven years, she has yet to place a single toe on solid ground—Captain's orders. She's adjusted to being a slave on the Cosmos, the massive ship she calls home. Sometimes she still loses her breath when the reality hits her, but for the most part she's accepted her life here.

"Ye can't be scared of storms forever," Landon notes.

Two taps and a I know you're right and I'm being irrational, but it doesn't change a thing sigh. He chuckles, understanding.

She's considered talking to Landon before—he's a slave on the ship too—but the fear of her spoken voice is so deeply rooted that she almost has a panic attack when she tries. He's always been sympathetic and never pressures her to speak, which is one of the things she likes about him so much.

A flash of lightning, another rolling boom of thunder, and she searches around frantically—irrationally—for Jarvis, once a crew member on the Cosmos. There was a time when storms didn't scare her. In the past, when it rained, she would run to the upper deck of the ship to dance in the delightful feeling of water tumbling down her abused skin. Dark, ominous clouds with bright blue lightning bringing the world to a massive, windy chaos—storms once fascinated her like that.

Not anymore. Jarvis made sure to ruin that. Not that the storm helped either.

"Ye know I'm not as good at makin' chicken as ye are. Captain's gunna know." Landon adds butter and smoke rises into the air with a sizzling noise. "I can't remember how this goes, Ducky. Help me out. Two tablespoons garlic and one cup Italian dressing? Or was it the other way around?" He knows she takes pride in her cooking and would be offended if he did it wrong.

A little screech erupts from under the prep table as her head pokes up. There's a smear of dirt under one of her brilliant blue eyes, and her blonde hair falls in greasy tendrils around her too-thin face. A light smattering of freckles covers her cheeks from too many days spent scrubbing the upper deck, exposed to the elements. Landon's coffee-brown eyes meet hers from under a mop of dark blonde hair, and he smiles. He's not as tall as most of the crew members, but he's much taller than she is. He holds the garlic powder over the measuring cup and pours it in. "This sure is a lot of garlic," he remarks with a smirk.

What is he up to? she wonders, jumps to her feet, and dashes toward him like he's about to pull the pin from a grenade. The ship rocks in the chaotic seas, and she tumbles into Landon. Her ragged dress (rags, really) catches on a hook and rips. It's just another hole to add to the collection. He holds her at arm's length and searches her eyes for the alarm and panic he expects any second, but she composes herself quickly. He beams with pride at her confidence and lets her go. Summer snatches the measuring cup and the garlic powder from his hands with a slight smirk. Her knuckles rap twice on the counter as she shakes her head, serious now. She's about to pour the garlic back into the container until she realizes it's empty. He tricked her. She purses her lips at him, and he chuckles playfully.

You think you're funny, do you? Summer puts a hand on her hip and gives him her best glare—which isn't very menacing.

He nods like he can read her mind. Sometimes she thinks he can.

She may not speak, but they have a surprisingly close relationship. They have ways of communicating that no one else on board understands. Landon can read Summer like the words are written across her forehead, and she trusts him to keep them both safe. Being a female on a ship of thieves is dangerous—especially when she's the only girl on the whole ship.

"It was way too easy," he says with a laugh. "There's nothing to fear here; this is our space, Ducky." He's always reassuring her, but he doesn't hold it against her. It's just another reason why she likes him.

Her shoulders slump in defeat, and Landon triumphs over another battle won. Four years ago he joined her on the Cosmos as a slave. It took months for them to get into a rhythm, but only minutes to fully understand each other. Plus, he saved her from her worst fear—there isn't anything she won't do for him. She would probably even speak for him if he asks her to, but he doesn't. He knows it will only make her have an anxiety attack.

She reaches for Landon's arm to catch his attention and points at the skillet. He places his elbow on the counter and leans in to watch. The way he looks at her is always surprising to Summer. It's always in wonder or fascination. In silence, she shows him exactly how she expects the chicken to be cooked. Her hand gestures and questioning glances amuse him so he just grins at her animated moves, nodding when necessary.

She stabs a fork into the chicken to check tenderness and turns to face him with a raised eyebrow, the gesture asking, Are you paying attention? Landon nods with much enthusiasm as she flips the chicken over in the skillet and adds more Italian dressing. Without glancing up, she points toward the bottle of honey. He immediately hands it over. She squeezes the bottle, dumping it all over the chicken and flips the piece over and over, making sure she covers all sides.

When the chicken is done cooking, she wraps it in foil to keep warm and stares up at Landon again. Her expression is triumphant and his amused.

"Rub it in—you're better than me at cookin' and I know it!" He wraps a sturdy arm around her shoulders and gives a tight squeeze.

A clap of thunder booms overhead, and Summer slips from his grip like a greased pig and dives underneath the prep table again, shaking. She still hasn't forgiven the storm for its traitorous actions four years ago.

Landon reaches down and holds her quivering hand. "The storm will pass, and I'll still be here," he says, suppressing a sigh. "Ye can't let that troll ruin your life. It's just not like ye to let him."

She grips his hand with more strength than someone her size should have before she lets go and clicks her tongue once. Landon doesn't hold back his sigh this time because when she clicks her tongue it's meant as a sarcastic remark. Once she wrote on a piece of paper "If you can't see, I'm rolling my eyes" and then she clicked her tongue at him. He shakes his head and continues to make the dinner for the crew. It's progress that she came out for even a few minutes. She hopes the storm passes before nine so they can both serve dinner. It's best if questions aren't asked and weaknesses aren't shown. Summer knows that you won't survive long if you're weak, and she is anything but. Still, she must keep up her image of stamina, endurance, and show no fear. She's proven herself on this ship, but mistakes can be major setbacks in the slave-crew relationship. Even minor sickness is considered weak.

Summer only needs thirty minutes; she hopes the storm passes by then.
CHAPTER 3: SALVATION

12 years old

The air is so ungodly hot Hades himself finds the weather comfortable to down-right pleasant. This is how it's been for a month as the Cosmos cruises through the Indian Ocean while the crew scours ships and steals their merchandise like sweet-tooth trick-or-treaters after the biggest, most divine piece of melt-in-your-mouth chocolate. There isn't a cloud in the too-blue sky, which makes Summer's skin burn and blister under its insatiable inferno.

Today there are two crew members who tease her as she cleans the dirt away from the top deck. One of them has only just arrived on the boat, but is evidently close friends with the other crew member Karl. She worries because they are being more touchy-feely than she's used to. She has seen many slaves beaten and raped in the past and doesn't want to be one of them. Captain Travis kicks those types of men off his ship to protect his property—which is exactly what she is—but that doesn't mean incidents like rape don't happen when he's not around.

There are no other women left on the ship; she is all they have left, and her young age of twelve never stops them from their obscene and lewd advances. Actually, the older she gets the more they show interest. Summer is alone on this ship, no matter how many crew members live there. No one has lasted as long as she has, and her lack of communication skills automatically put her in the Don't Even Bother With pile, therefore she's been friendless for as long as she can remember.

The new crew member, Jarvis, could potentially be a man that will rape her regardless of any warning from the Captain. There is just something off about him that puts Summer on her guard immediately. Between his eagle-like eyes and the smug smirk permanently etched into this pointed and angled face, lies something sinister. She's seen more repugnant, vicious, vile, immoral men than she cares to admit. Actually, she prefers to not think about them at all. Regardless, she has never felt anything like this before. It's like he's dead inside—cold, stiff, and empty. Like he has no soul.

"Hey sweetheart," Jarvis sneers and smirks at Karl like he's so clever for that line. Karl is already on her list of Least Favorite Crew Members, and it seems that Jarvis will soon be joining it. "I've been awfully lonely these past few weeks. Could really use some company in my bed." His fingers trail in her hair, and she jerks away in disgust.

What? Don't the fleas keep you company? she internally mocks, knowing she'll never say it aloud. She can only imagine the punishment for that insult.

"I heard she dun' speak at'll." Karl elbows Jarvis, though Summer wishes he would have aimed higher and hit Jarvis's stupid, shiny bald head.

"Really? Nothin'?" He smiles like a mad scientist who's just had a "brilliant idea," and lets the decay of his teeth show. His breath is so gag-worthy that she almost loses her breakfast all over his dirty, old boots. Though, honestly, she doesn't know if he would even notice with how grimy they already are.

His brown eyes seem to lick across her skin as he examines her, his too-shiny head blinding her as the sun glares angrily back. His face is all rough and hard angles—not in a handsome way, but in a he-looks-like-he-eats-babies-for-breakfast kind of way. He winks at her, and her eyes snap down to the ground so she won't have to stare into his emotionless eyes.

Summer shudders with the thought of them doing the awful things to her she has nightmares about. She's always hopelessly dreaming for salvation that she knows will never come. Maybe today will be the day, she daydreams.

The men chuckle as they watch her, their gazes like slimy, foul caresses across the back of her neck.

Or maybe not. She sighs internally, trying her best to ignore them. She continues to scrub the lower deck like it will wash their filthy minds away too. Maybe add some Comet to Jarvis's mouth while she's at it, though she's not sure it'll do the trick. Add a bottle of bleach, she thinks disgustedly. No, not even that will be enough.

"Ya know Karl, she'd be perfect. No screamin'."

Jarvis and Karl exchange a knowing—disquieting—look. Summer, trying her best to fold into herself and become invisible, subtlety moves farther away from them. In the distance she sees storm clouds rolling in and can't wait to wash the sweat and grime from the long day off of her skin. Maybe a wave will crash over the side and take Karl and Jarvis with it. She sends a silent prayer to the sea gods.

It's been one of those days where it's spent partially in the sun and partially cleaning the crew's bathroom. And the men don't aim to please. The thought of water cleansing the day away is the only thing she has to look forward to. She doesn't know if she should laugh or weep at how pathetic that is.

Jarvis slides down to the ground and leans toward her. "I've been watchin' ya, by the way. From afar."

She trembles and hastily moves away to clean somewhere else, not caring how obvious it is this time. The thought of him watching—noticing—her when she didn't know herself makes her stomach want to heave. Actually, she's pretty sure everything about this man makes her want to lose her stomach acid—just like some creepy alien Aaron, another crew member, once told her about. She still doesn't believe him, but the imagery works for this situation.

Jarvis follows her, his butt sliding through the cleaning product she leaves behind. "Ev'ry year ya get prettier, and ya look old 'nough now." His fingers lift a ruffled scrap of her clothes with interest. She freezes and catches his expression, clearly saying his interests lie in ripping it off. "How 'bout we have some fun? Whad'ya say?"

Summer jerks free, part of her rags rip under his grip, and moves away to scrub farther down the lower deck. Maybe if she ignores them they'll go away. Maybe. Pouring Comet in his mouth begins to seem more and more like a feasible—and satisfying—idea. His creepy eyes need a good scrubbing too, don't forget them, she adds silently.

"She dun' speak, stupid!" Karl says loftily and hits him upside his dim, slick-with-sweat naked head. Summer bets Karl doesn't even know what "loftily" means—probably thinks it has something to do with faeries and pixie dust. More creatures Aaron told her about that she still doesn't believe are real.

Thunder booms above them as droplets of water splash against Summer's face. It's the most refreshing thing she's felt in days, though Karl and Jarvis are ruining her favorite thing. Her only thing.

"Dibs," Jarvis claims pompously and fist-bumps Karl. "Now get the hell out of here. We don't need no audience."

Summer is already on her feet and running towards the doors that lead below deck and to her room—where she can lock the door and hide away. Lightning fills the sky in a show of magnificent power and beauty moments before thunder rumbles out a joyous cry.

"Might wanna get off yer lazy ass and catch her. I bet she's a slippery one," Karl says through his chortling. All jokes aside, she wishes the Comet really was in her reach—they both need an unnatural amount of it in their pants. It's too late to do anything, though. All she can do now is run.

Rain starts to pour down on them as Summer slides to the door, her heart pounding and sapphire eyes dilating in fear. Scared, and in a fit of trembling panic, her fingers clasp the handle but slip because she's already soaked with the storms pitiless tears. Lightning flashes again, and this time it's full of menacing splendor, the thunder rolling in seconds later with a clamorous laugh. Spluttering steps pound behind her, and she shakes so fiercely she's unable to grip the door to open it.

She loses her only hope of escape when arms encircle her waist and yank her backward so forcefully her breath temporarily goes on vacation. They land on the deck, and she fights Jarvis by clawing and striking over and over to no avail. Lightning strikes again, and all the luster and radiance the electrical blue glow used to hold for Summer fades. The accompanying thunder is a booming, nonthreatening entity witnessing it all. She feels betrayed by the storm, nothing but a worthless bystander in the sky. Jarvis seizes her wrists and, with one hand, holds her arms behind her back. He's too strong for her to fight.

"You can't get 'way that easily," he declares, his toothpaste-lacking breath greedy on her neck as he puts his weight on her. Her face is pushed into the soaked deck as his free hand travels under her tattered clothes and begins to trail across her skin with perverse abandon.

Summer whimpers and struggles in his grasp as tears trail down her freckled cheeks, but it's no use—she's trapped. Each stroke of his hand is like sandpaper, jagged and agitating to her skin. The feel of him touching her turns her stomach sour, like curdled milk. She wants to yell out, but knows it will cause more trouble than staying quiet. Her silence has kept her alive in the past, and this time is no different. If she yells he might knock her out, and though she doesn't want to witness or feel what he's about to do to her, she doesn't want to be unconscious either. Or he might kill her. She doesn't have the best life, but she's still willing to fight for it—no matter how pathetic it is she's not about to give in.

Jarvis's hand leaves her skin, and rich, sweet relief floods her. But then she hears the sound of a belt buckle clink against the ground, and the blood-chilling sound of his pants being unzipped. Absolute terror crashes into her with the momentum of an asteroid falling from space. She shakes uncontrollably, and her breathing becomes so shallow her vision fades in and out with the sparking of stars in her vision. She thinks back to the Comet and knows when this is all over she'll be scrubbing her body with it. Will the oily, body odor of Jarvis ever be rinsed from her nose? Vomiting might not be an option anymore—bile rises into her throat, burning and coating her mouth.

Wind swirls around them, and the once creamy, velvet tendrils of the breeze are now flustered and full of malignant need. Sinister, somehow, like Jarvis taints the very air with his repugnant perversity. He lifts the back of her rags to claim her. The storm above, even in its wild fury, remains passive like an unjust warden with all the authority of lightning but settles with the intimidation of thunder. She thought her life was awful before, but now, in this second, as his bare skin sickeningly touches hers, she realizes she is so unbelievably wrong. This is as low as a person can get. In this horrifically foul moment of utter torment, Summer sobs loudly. The loudest in eight years.

"What the—" she hears right before she slides across the soaked deck forcefully. Her head slams into the side of the deck, and she gasps. She's not quite sure what game he's playing, or what to think. Then she sees a figure in the rain. Did he do this? she wonders then shakes her head. Would you rather have a hurt head or lose the only virtue you have left? Hurt head, hands down, she realizes.

Rain drenches her as she stares through the large water-droplets at a blonde-haired boy with such dark, deep eyes she wants to dive into them and discover the treasure within. The boy straddles Jarvis whose arms are crossed to cover his face as he's pummeled by the blonde. Even in the heat of the moment, she seriously considers finding the Comet. Anything to scrape the filth of Jarvis from her every pore. She can't help but relive him touching her. When blood joins the puddles of water and gathers around them like a crimson river, she's strangely satisfied. The boy suddenly stands and kicks Jarvis in the ribs three times with swift, concise hits. Though she's grateful for the blonde rescuing her, she's not sure who to fear now.

Summer shivers as she curls into a small ball, afraid of what this boy will do to her when he's done hurting—or killing—Jarvis. One fear just replaces the other. The boy takes a couple of long strides to her and drops to one knee. He holds his hand out, but this startles her even more, and she lurches away. Don't hurt me, she tries to beg with her eyes. Maybe he came here to ultimately kill me and Jarvis was just in the way, she thinks irrationally. Or maybe he wants to take me before Jarvis—this could just be a play for possession.

The boy hesitates when he notices her reaction, his eyes flashing back and forth in an attempt to read her. "I won't harm ye," he says so softly his voice might as well have been a big, comfy pillow. "I'm Landon. Who're ye?"

Summer's sapphire eyes glance over her folded arms to look into those dark eyes—kind eyes, she realizes—and reaches for his extended hand. Regardless of her need to speak to him—to give her name—she stays silent, still afraid to utter a single syllable. He doesn't act like he notices the absence of her voice as his warm fingers enclose over her hand to pull her to her feet.

"I'm new on the Cosmos," Landon informs. She jerks her hand from his; she has a no touching policy when it comes to the crew. "I'm not a crew member," he says quickly, "I'm like ye. The captain told me where to find ye—said ye'd find me quarters to sleep in and teach me the ropes." He holds his hand out again, and she slowly takes it, uncertain. It's been so long since she's had any kind of human contact she isn't quite sure how she feels. But she's pretty sure it's a pleasant sensation and that if her stomach wasn't still fermenting from Jarvis's oily fingers touching her, she'd be full of fluttering excitement.

"Let's get ye cleaned up, Ducky, before ye float away in this storm," he says charmingly in an accent she'd never heard before.

When she doesn't say anything, thoroughly frozen in shock, he turns serious. "Aye, I thought it'd be this way. He won't hurt ye anymore." To emphasize his words, Jarvis groans loudly and painfully to Summer's satisfaction. "Shall I lead the way? I must admit we'll probably get hopelessly lost."

Summer snaps from her daze and shakes her head.

As they walk to the door leading to the lower levels, she notices the unyielding ruthlessness of the storm; the crashing waves, the bitter sky kissing the water on the horizon, the keening laments of the sharp, cutting wind, and the relentless liquid deliverance of its somber showers. She'll never forgive the audacity of the storm's neglect.

They descend into the lower levels of the ship and take several turns in cramped hallways that stink of rust. Some spots on the ceiling leak water from rusted holes. She's not sure if she should show him where she sleeps, but for some reason she feels like if she can't trust someone like him, then who can she trust? Honestly? She longs for a human connection—any kind of human connection that doesn't include a whip or torture—so extremely that she's willing to take a risk. They stop in front of her door. She pulls from under her rags a long, small chain that wraps around her neck. She lifts it over her head, palms the key that dangles at the end of it, and offers it to Landon who hesitantly takes it. She's too shaky to try and coordinate actually putting the key in the lock.

After he unlocks her door, they both enter, and she immediately searches for something warm and dry to wear. In the air conditioning Summer's wet clothes quickly turn so cold her teeth start chattering. She comes across a long, white T-shirt she's been saving for . . . well, she isn't sure why. But this seems like an occasion if there ever was one. Landon turns to give her privacy as she quickly tosses her torn and dirty clothing to the floor and replaces it with the nicest thing she owns. She isn't used to someone being so polite to her, or to someone even caring if she's uncomfortable or not. But this boy . . . she isn't certain about him. Saving her, giving her privacy . . . What's next? Caring? It isn't feasible.

She sits on the edge of the bed and waits for him to turn back around. But he doesn't. So she leans back and raps once on the wall her bed is pushed up against. He jumps slightly.

"Are ye . . . dressed?" he asks tentatively.

She knocks once against the wall again, finding his hesitation endearing.

So, so slowly he turns around until he takes her in and blows out a relieved breath. "Are ye okay?" he asks. He seems cautious as he takes deliberate steps towards her. "He didn't . . . did he?" His expression is so crestfallen that she can't look at him. "I mean . . ." he trails off, his voice slightly choked. "That bastard!"

With the weight of years of torture, pain, and misery heavy on her shoulders, Summer beings to cry, shoulder-shaking, hiccup-inducing, choke-on-your-own-tears kind of cry. Landon, no longer cautious, rushes towards her and wraps his arms around her too-tiny frame. For a moment she is stiff in his embrace, but soon discovers the salvation she thought she'd never find. She holds back the tears after a few minutes of letting them go. She's already shown too much weakness. Landon finally backs off and perches at the end of the bed, a presence about him like the calming waters of a lake in the rough seas of the ocean.

"What's yer name?" he asks as he rubs the light, blonde stubble on his chin.

Several minutes tick on by as she stares at him with pleading eyes, hoping he'll understand. It's been eight years—she doesn't know if she'll ever be ready.

"Do ye speak at'll?" He laughs, not being serious.

She shakes her head vigorously and knocks twice on the wall behind her.

His laughter is quickly cut off. "Wait . . . ye really don't speak?"

She repeats the double knock and head shake.

Landon leans back on her bed so they are both up against the wall. "Well—" he smirks "—that'll be a change. My sister speaks non-stop." His smile slowly fades, and a frown replaces it. She knows what he's thinking—he'll never see his sister, or the rest of his family, again. She wishes she could reassure him, but that isn't the case. Still, she gently takes his hand in hers and just holds it. She sucks in a shuddering breath at the feeling. A person, a real, live person is holding her hand and is asking nothing of her. She considers never letting go.
CHAPTER 4: INTRUDERS

15 years old

The storm passes, and the ship quits its lethargic undulations. Dinner is served with cheers tonight as the crew celebrates their newest pirating conquest. Right now the ship is literally swimming in small boating equipment: water skies (which blows her mind), floats, tubes, bumper guards, life jackets, fish finders, among other larger, more expensive things that she doesn't know the names of. Captain Travis is so thrilled with his crew that he breaks out the good beer. It's thicker and creamier than what's normally served. Apparently this stolen load is better than the one full of flat screen TVs from Japan. Though, she must admit, she does like the many TVs around the ship that they kept—even if she doesn't have time to enjoy them.

As Landon and Summer dump food onto each of their plates, the crew continues to toast to weird and random things. She's pretty sure they are getting drunk and wonders if beer makes everyone this incredibly cheerful.

Phil holds his beer high in the air. "To Peter's new medication!"

They all shout and cheer and clink their glasses together as someone shouts, "I can actually light up without fear of blowing the ship up!"

"Aye, Aye!" they all shout with laughter. Even Peter joins in.

Aaron, her favorite crew member, stops her to tell her how delicious the chicken is. She points at Landon to give him credit while at the same time Dale puts him in a headlock and rubs his fist in Aaron's flaming red hair.

"Quit flirting, ya wanker!" Dale teases, his brown eyes shining with mirth.

Aaron's freckled face turns the color of his hair, and the whole crew bursts into laughter. They begin to make kissing faces, smacking their lips, and moaning with too much creativity. A few of them turn around, wrap their arms around themselves, and pretend to be kissing someone. Peter and Phil act like they are kissing each other with their hands over their mouths. Karl, refusing to join the fun, remains emotionless with his arms folded and green eyes glaring at a spot on the table. He's still bitter about Jarvis being kicked off the ship and blames it on Summer. He makes sure to tell her this often, and a few times he's even hit her for no reason. Landon found out when she showed up outside his door with a bruised face and black eye. Landon's reluctant to leave her side even though she reassures him she's fine.

Embarrassed by the crew's reactions, Summer backs away from the table and seeks Landon. He's grinning from ear-to-ear as he holds the kitchen door open. They can hear Captain Travis trying to calm the rambunctious crew, but his deep laugh slips through and joins in. The flimsy door vacillates behind them until it settles shut. Landon hops up on the prep table and immediately starts making fun of the crew members.

"All hail, I be Karl, kin' o' punishin' myself," he jokes and tacks on, "Wish I could help with that."

Summer giggles—like actual giggles with sound and everything. Even she's surprised. Landon can't help but beam proudly at her, his face lighting up. He's been working diligently to help her learn to read and write . . . and maybe, hopefully, one day speak. He even tells her she's the fastest learner he's ever seen. Not that he's ever taught anyone else how to read and write. She is just so ready to try and decipher the last bit of her destroyed journal, which she keeps hidden, and so she can finally fill out the pages of her new one with actual words.

"Just stole a boat load o' goods but still canna manage t' shave me beard!" Landon continues, making fun of the Captain and his ridiculous beard.

In the background they can hear the men clink their glasses together for another toast. It reminds her that she wants to ask Landon a question. She pulls her small notepad and pen from a drawer in the kitchen and begins to scribble down her question. She's still kind of slow at writing, but she's reading huge chapter books now. The most recent is a romance novel that makes her blush.

Does beer make you happy? the paper reads.

He grins, his dark eyes full of delight. "Aye! Ye bet yer arse 't does!"

She lightly punches him and gives him the Be Serious look that he knows so well. He raises his hands in concession.

"Aye, it can make ye happy. It can also make ye sick or angry or sad. Why?" She shrugs, and he shakes his head at her. "Hey, ye can't just keep stuff in, Ducky. Ye got away with it before, but now ye know how to write." He folds his arms and stares down at her; she knows he'll wait for her answer all night if he has to.

She quickly scribbles on the paper again. Can I try it?

His dark eyes go wide when he reads her question. "Wait, ye want to try beer?" His expression seems to be stuck between concern and amusement.

Summer nods firmly, but when he doesn't say anything she raises her eyebrows in question.

"Ye ain't gunna like it," he says, his lips forming a straight line. "But if yer curious, I guess it won't hurt."

She gives him a small smile, and there's no need for her to say "Thank you," because he already knows she's thankful for everything he does for her.

He hops off the prep table and wraps his arm around her shoulders in what she calls the Sideways Hug. He's only about five feet, eight inches, but that's still four inches taller than Summer. "Ye can tell me anything, but ye know that already, don't ye Ducky?"

She wraps her arms around his waist and holds him close. She hears him sigh before he wraps his arms around her too. There are so many things she wants to say to him, but she's never had the courage to do it. He would never punish her for speaking, but it causes her such intense anxiety that words refuse to form.

He gives her one last squeeze before heading to the over-sized fridge.

A few years ago Landon convinced Captain Travis to provide him with books to teach her how to read and write. Apparently, slave owners don't want their slaves educated, so Landon was surprised when boxes began to show up outside his door weekly with different supplies and books. One day he came across a psychology book and found the disorder associated with Summer's muteness. He extensively researched it, including techniques to help her speak again. He finally came to her with his findings and has been working with her ever since. But the number one, most important thing about her disorder is that pressure to make her speak will only bring anxiety. She was so impressed by it all she accepted to let him work with her on it. Landon talks with her constantly, even when she's not receptive at all. Summer knows she's blessed to have such a wonderful person in her life and wishes she could do more for him in exchange.

"Al'right! Here it is."

He slams a mug of beer on the table and foam dribbles over the side. It looks like liquid honey, and her mouth waters at the thought of it. She gingerly picks up the mug with both hands and takes a sip. Her face puckers immediately at the bitter taste. Just in case she got a bad sip, she tries it one more time with the same result. Well, that isn't what she expects. She carefully places it back on the prep table before chancing a glance at Landon.

His fist is pressed against his mouth in an attempt to not laugh at her. She gives him a big eye roll, and he can't help but chuckle.

"Not what ye were expectin', ay?" he asks through his amusement.

She shakes her head. Why do they make it look like honey, but have it taste so bitter? she wonders—just another mystery of many for her. She snatches up the notepad, and he waits patiently. The notepad is still new to her; she's not use to such freedom with answers. She's yet to decide if she thinks this is the greatest thing to ever happen to her, or if she should forget how to write.

How do you know about beer? And how do you know there aren't really aliens, vampires, faeries, and pixies? She rereads her two questions, hoping she formed them right. Then she adds, I'm pretty sure you can't see them because of their magic glamour. She slides the notepad across the prep table, and Landon picks it up.

He snorts loudly then has a coughing fit. "Ducky, not this again!"

She shrugs, waiting for his answers. You see, before Landon joined the Cosmos, Dale and Aaron would tell Summer of these creatures. Sometimes she had gotten so wrapped up in their stories that she would stop cleaning. Many of these creatures fascinate her, and she even has dreams about them. Aliens and faeries she finds the most intriguing. She didn't believe at first, but after reading some of the books Landon's given her she can't help but assume that these creatures are real—much to Landon's chagrin. When she was first learning how to write, she brought up faeries, and Landon thought she was joking. She wasn't, and that only made him laugh even harder. He's been trying to convince her ever since that the creatures are fictional and that Aaron and Dale were having fun with her lack of knowledge.

"They're fictional characters, Ducky. They aren't real." He pauses, looks her over carefully, and sighs. "Ye win. But one of these days ye'll realize I'm right." She stabs the word "glamour" with her finger.

"I don't even know where ye got that word."

She grins widely and writes, A book.

"Of course!" His hands fly into the air. "What have I done?"

They both laugh.

"Actually," he says suddenly, perking up. "I always thought ye looked like a little faerie."

She puts a hand on her hip and rolls her eyes. Don't be silly, her body language conveys.

"I'm pretty sure ye are a faerie now that I think about it! First, there was that one time I found a bunch of glitter under yer bunk."

Her lips are between a scowl and grin, twitching like she's trying not to do both, and her sapphire eyes glare at him humorously. He can't help but laugh, though she really is trying to put on a Serious Face. She flippantly punches him in the arm again.

"I swear it wasn't me!" He raises his hands in the air in a Don't Shoot Me gesture.

She reaches for the notepad and writes, You had glitter on your face the next morning.

His face goes slack, surprised he's been caught—not red handed, but sparkle-faced. "Fine, Ducky. Ye caught me. But then there are these pointy ears!" He gently clamps his fingers at the tips of her ears. She shakes him off as he beams down at her. "And don't forget the tiny nose. What the hell is up with that? It's unnaturally button-sized. Definite fae material."

She bites her bottom lip, thoroughly embarrassed because he's making fun of her. Her face even flushes into a soft rose color. Only he could fluster her so meticulously. Landon's not like anyone she's ever met; he makes her have all these emotions she never knew existed. Or she forgot about them. She's certain she loves him, but when she reads romance books she can't relate to the romance part. He's not romance . . . he's salvation. Her protector and best friend. After four years, she'd be honored to call him her brother.

Cheers come from the dining room, and she knows they'll all be piss drunk tonight. They'll probably have to help a few of them to their rooms, though she's versed in Landon Reasoning—he'll want to play the part of the knight and not let her help. It's because of what Jarvis did, so she can't hold it against him. She doesn't want a repeat of that horrific day either.

Ignoring the crew, Summer points at the first question on the notepad.

"Aye, how do I know about beer? My father liked to drink a pint or two sometimes. He let me try it when I was just a wee tyke." He rubs his neck in discomfort, and she hopes she didn't overstep her bounds.

There is one thing he doesn't talk about, and that is his family. She wonders why but doesn't feel like she has a right to ask. Just like with her speech—or lack thereof—it's one of those things they just don't talk about.

His brown eyes are fixed on the ground so she lightly touches his face to gain his attention. His eyes meet hers, and she tries to read what secrets are in the depths. Since the beginning she's wanted to just dive right in, but he's always kept up a wall even she can't penetrate. He frowns, which is the last thing she wants. The day, besides the arrogant storm, has been a good one.

Then she does something that she hasn't done since she was four. She mouths, "I'm sorry." No sound comes out, but the gesture is so huge he just stares at her intensely for a few seconds, like he's trying to convince himself of what he witnessed. Though honestly? She tries to persuade herself that she just mouthed two whole words. Three syllables. Where's the trumpets? The heavenly chorus singing Hallelujah? The massive amount of chocolate cake? The party hats and presents?

"Did ye just . . . ?" His eyebrows scrunch together.

She nods and covers her mouth, disbelieving. It's a mile stone; a new feat!

"Listen, Ducky. My family—" He's abruptly cut off.

There's a loud bang, and the whole ship shudders like they've hopped onto land. They both go flying across the kitchen and land against a metal shelf. The contents crash over them, and Landon's secrets are hidden beneath.

"Summer? Summer? Are ye okay?" Landon asks frantically from below the rubble.

She taps once on a pan over her head, and he sighs in relief. They both struggle and eventually crawl out of the debris, unscathed besides a few bruises. The kitchen, on the other hand, looks as if it got sick and vomited its contents.

The crew members in the other room sound like they are still cheering and carrying on like nothing happened. What did just happen? she wonders while getting to her feet with Landon's help. They exchange questioning glances then make their way across the destroyed kitchen. She mentally curses because she knows exactly who'll have to clean up this mess.

This is going to take all night, she laments as she steps over a broken mug.

Landon arrives at the kitchen window first. Right before she stands on tiptoe to catch a glance too, he ducks and pulls her down with him. His finger goes to his lips to tell her to be quiet. A smile over takes her at the gesture. I don't speak, she thinks and covers her mouth, trying not to laugh.

He shakes his head and closes his eyes briefly, realizing his mistake. "Sorry," he mouths. He points at the door and whispers, "Intruders with guns."

Her sapphire eyes go wide. Guns, unlike whips, kill instantly. As she backs away in a waddling position, the nickname Ducky suddenly fits the situation perfectly.

"She's like a ticking time bomb!" a woman barks with venom.

"There're no women on this ship besides you, lady!" Captain Travis argues. This surprises Summer.

"Sit your drunk ass down," a man commands. Something clicks.

The intruder's voices grow louder as they come closer to the door. Landon takes Summer's hand, pulls her up when they aren't in the window's view anymore, and sprints down the hallway. She continually glances over her shoulder, wondering if they are behind them. Her heart is pumping rapidly, and her palms grow sweaty. Landon doesn't let go, only picks up pace. Her blonde hair flies behind her like a waving curtain. She's running out of breath quickly—living on a ship doesn't exactly provide much exercise. As they round the corner, they both come to a skidding halt. He swiftly pulls her behind his back and tries to keep her out of view. She looks under his arm at the girl standing in the middle of the hallway—the reason they stopped.
CHAPTER 5: JADEN

15 years old

Long, shiny black hair, beautifully bronzed skin, and eyes so dark you can't even call them brown. The girl is about her age, she notices. But who is she? They've never seen her before. Around her neck is a leather necklace with five wooden button-like beads that look like they're choking her. The girl holds her hands up to say that she means no harm and whispers low in an American accent, "Follow me if you want to live." The voice is familiar.

"And why should we?" Landon interrogates, his voice low and sure. His muscles are stiff, and he's on high alert.

"Did you not understand the part about living?" the girl asks in disbelief. "Suit yourselves, but when you're flying around as ghosts remember I told you so." The girl turns, flips her black hair behind her back, and strides away.

Summer pulls at the back of Landon's shirt. When he looks back she can tell he's not certain of what he should do. She points at the girls back and gives him a little push.

"Wait!" he calls out, and the girl freezes.

She pivots around while a smile creeps up her face. "Ah, thought you'd change your minds, but you had me thinking otherwise for a second."

"What's yer name, and what're ye doing on this ship?" he asks sharply.

"My name's Jaden, and I'm here to capture Summer," she says simply, like this is normal for her.

"Pft!" he huffs, but a surprised Summer peeks around him and points at herself in question. He sidesteps so she's not in view anymore.

"Yes you, silly. Remember me? We used to have cells next to each other."

Summer steps the other direction and looks around him again. The memories of her time as a four year old are some of the worst of her life. The only part she remembers without physically flinching was when she and Jaden would sneak in conversations when the guards left. They never saw each other besides through a slot in their doors, but her voice sounds so familiar. She nods at Jaden.

"I see you never got out of the slave business. Well, neither did I." Jaden frowns and absently rubs her scarred wrists.

Landon steps back to look between the two girls and their interactions. "Ye know her?" he asks Summer.

She nods, her eyes not leaving Jaden who's almost Landon's height. She has scars up her arms that remind Summer of her own burn marks. Her eyes look haunted, though her face is unruffled. Her body is not quite as small as Summer's, but clearly her diet isn't that healthy.

"And can we trust her?" Landon asks out the side of his mouth like Jaden can't hear them.

Summer glances at Landon then back to Jaden. The years of slavery are etched into Jaden's skin. This is the girl who gave her advice to stop the beatings—she's partially the reason Summer's mute. But beneath the haunted exterior of her eyes, there is a spark of hope. It's the one thing she lost long ago. She raises her hand slowly and shakily to the rusted metal wall of the hallway and raps once. The noise reverberates eerily down the empty hallway.

"Lead the way," Landon says to Jaden.

"We've wasted too much time already." Jaden begins to run down the hallway. "They're looking for you, Summer. We need to find a place to hide so I can explain what's going on, and so we can find a way off this ship!"

Landon gives her instructions on where to go until they stop in front of Summer's room. She quickly pulls free her key, and he takes it to unlock the door. All three of them enter, and Jaden quickly falls on Summer's bed like she's known Summer all her life.

"All right," Jaden begins. "Here's the deal—apparently these people have been tracking you since you were taken."

Hope, for the first time in forever, blossoms inside Summer like a vine reaching toward the sun in a dense forest. People have been looking for me?

Jaden sees the look in her eyes. "These aren't people you want to find you, Summer. We're slaves—considered property. We might as well be a lamp in the corner for all they care, which means I've overheard a lot more than they realize. This is some secret society that believes if they terminate you, all will be well in the world."

"They?" asks Landon.

"The Secret Clock Society," answers Jaden with a grim expression. "They have power like I've never seen. I don't know why they want Summer, but she should stay far, far away from them."

"Wait!" Landon cuts in. "Are ye sayin' they want to kill her?" He quickly wraps an arm around Summer's shoulders. "No way!"

Jaden and Landon quickly talk with each other, but Summer can't seem to hear them. Her blood is pounding in her ears as she remembers back to the last time she saw her mum. When she replays the day again it all starts to make more sense. Her mum wasn't acting like herself, and they were in the car for quite some time. Was her mum running away from these people? And why are they after her? What is so special about her?

"Summer, did you hear me?" Jaden waves a hand in front of her face.

Summer shakes her head no and tries her best to put on her Apologetic Face.

"They bought me from my previous owners." She shudders and absently rubs her wrists again. "Anyway, they've been searching for you, but your captain, Travis Jones I believe it was, has been dodging them, apparently. So this is where I come in—they knew we were in that house at the same time. When they found out I had known you they wanted me to help them capture you."

Summer begins to tremble in Landon's arms, and he pulls her in for an infamous side-hug. "So is that what you're doing? Keeping us in this room until they come?" he asks vehemently. Summer can feel the tension in his body and only hugs him more. Like always, he is her salvation and protector.

"Of course not," Jaden says smugly. "I'm just playing their little game, when in reality I plan on all of us escaping. You think I like this life as a slave?"

Summer stiffens and turns around so fast she almost stumbles. What does she mean? Escape? It isn't possible . . . is it?

"No, but maybe you're doing this so you'll be free!" he disputes crisply.

Jaden thrusts her arms out, and in the light you can see even more scars. "I wouldn't wish this life on my worst enemy. I'm not going to help them with this. They let me free so I could find her." She points at Summer. "We're getting off this ship with or without your help!"

Summer practically falls over herself trying to get to Jaden before she wraps her tiny arms around her. Those words are the most beautiful thing she's ever heard. Freedom is like one of the creatures she reads about—mythical. She wants to tell Landon that if it's possible for them to be free, then it's sure as hell possible there are faeries!

"Whoa there!" Jaden giggles. "I know it's been bad—for all of us. But this is our chance to escape."

"If Summer's going, so am I," declares Landon.

"Great! I've got an idea," says Jaden. And with that, they begin to plan.
CHAPTER 6: HELL

4 years old

Jag is a jack of many trades: black market, smuggling, pirating, bootlegging, and—his favorite—the slave trade. He especially loves it when he finds the young ones because they are easily trained to do as you wish. To his disappointment, he won't have the time he wants with the young girl he's trapped in his human market. The people who want her, whoever they are, offered to pay for him to capture her specifically. He finds that very interesting and is only intrigued more by the little blonde girl who cries too much for his liking. When he had finally caught up with her and her mother, he was worried about the open space. With the help of his crew, the kidnapping went better than he would have predicted. He grins at the fond memory as he opens the door to the long hallway full of boys and girls for sale. It's feeding time.

A tray full of orange peels, an empty yogurt cup, and a moldy piece of bread is shoved through a slot in the door. Summer scoots away from it to sit in the corner and weep. When she was first shoved into the small room, she didn't understand what was going on. A girl's soft voice had informed her that she will never see her family again. Summer refuses to believe it.

"That's your supper," the voice informs her through the wall.

The room is full of dirt and straw, like she's some barn animal. Summer gathers the straw around her and squeaks, "That's supper?"

"Yes. It doesn't get better so eat." The girl keeps quiet after that.

Summer kicks the tray away from her in a tantrum. As the room grows dark she curls into a ball, shaking and crying. She doesn't know where she is or why. But she does know one thing—she misses her mummy.

"Jezz'us!" a male voice growls out. "Keep your ruddy mouth shut."

She's hiccupping now and rises to bang on the door. Fear and anger are beginning to rise up like a monstrous tidal wave in her. Her tiny fists slam over and over into the door. There is no knob on her side for her to turn. She screams and shouts, "Let me out! I want my mummy!" Her hands grow sore quickly so she resorts to kicking with all the strength she can muster.

"Bloody hell," the same man barks, his voice closer now. "I hate new arrivals. Always causin' us trouble."

"You have to stop," the girl's quivering voice in the other room begs quietly. "They'll punish you."

Summer ignores the threat. At home punishment means sitting out for five minutes in shame. Her mum never raised a hand to her. If sitting out for five minutes is all she'll have to do she'll take it, as long as they open the door.

"Let me out," she screams at the top of her lungs, her throat sore from shouting, but refusing to give up. "Let. Me. Out!"

"It's always the new ones," mutters the man as the door flings open.

Summer sprints under his arm and takes off down the hallway.

"Blimey," the man grumbles in surprise.

Summer turns down another hallway, constantly glances over her shoulder, and picks up speed. If she can get outside she'll be okay. Her mummy taught her how to call the police in emergencies. If this isn't an emergency, Summer thinks, I don't know what is. Without warning, she slams into a body and comes to a dead halt. The tall, lanky man looks down at her, and a crooked smile creeps up his lips. Jag's black eyes shine over with excitement as he holds Summer by the tops of her arms.

"And where'd you think yer going?" He chuckles darkly, his rotten breath filling the air.

The other man rounds the corner, out of breath. "She's a fast bugger."

"Is she?" Jag glances down at her, and his scarred face twitches. "Take care of it, Johnny." He thrusts her into Johnny's arms, bruising her skin in the process.

Summer gasps, her blue eyes wide as her neck cranes to see Johnny. "My mummy will be angry if I'm not home after dark." Her voice lacks the defiance she'd hoped for.

"I'm sure she will be," he says with a laugh and yanks her back down the hallway.

Instead of taking her back to her room, he throws her into a chair outside her room and makes her face away from him and straddle it.

"It's time for yer punishment. Take the shirt off," he commands pompously.

Summer visibly shakes, unable to move. Will she have to sit there for five minutes for punishment? The thought of her small prison almost seems welcoming. She catches movement to her right and sees brown eyes peek out of the food slot in the cell next to hers. Tears are visible in the girl's eyes, and it only makes her more scared. Can't she sit in timeout in the room?

"Bloody hell," grounds out Johnny when she doesn't remove her shirt.

He jerks it over her head violently and tosses it on the straw-littered ground. There are sounds behind her but she doesn't dare look back. The flap covering the slot of the other girl's door clinks shut, and that's when the sound of a crack breaks the still air.

Thwack!

Something sharp connects with her back, and she straightens in reflex to the unbelievable pain. She screams without conscious thought as she hears the crack through the air, and something connects with her skin again.

Thwack!

She flinches away as it strikes again. Another scream erupts from her like a roaring volcano, the stinging force cutting her very essence.

Thwack!

She can feel the welts down to her spine, all the way to the tips of her toes. The shock of each hot, flaming force against her back makes her instinctively reach for her back in protection.

Thwack!

Her fingers catch the next stinging blow. She grounds her teeth together and brings her hands back around to hold close to her chest, writhing in the sensation. One hand bleeds while the other has a red welt that begins to rise on her skin immediately. She gasps for air through each strangled cry as she's hit again and again. She chances a glance behind her as the whip comes down again and finally wears the top layer of her skin out. It slices wide open like her whole body will crack under the pressure.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! She swears the whip is whispering its manic joy as it slices the air again. Thwack!

She screams out with every crack of the whip, her sensitive skin splitting more with each stinging blow. Soon she can feel blood trickle down her back and soak her pants. Her muscles are in knots, threatening to rip apart as the whip collides with her exposed flesh.

Thwack!

Johnny laughs joyfully as the whip bites into her skin for the tenth time. Summer is no longer able to hold herself up as the throbbing agony consumes and immobilizes her. Her nerves shriek and protest their overwhelming need for the excruciating cracks of the whip to cease. With one more blow against her torn flesh, Summer realizes she has no more screams left in her; throat raw, her last bit of strength melts. Tears are scattered across her face as she lies limply over the chair. When she's close to passing out the whip ceases. The relief is so pronounced it's like a flavor on her tongue.

Tearful red eyes peek from the slot on the door next to hers. They speak a million different words, but right then they say, "Welcome to Hell."
CHAPTER 7: DRIFTER

15 years old

Jaden cracks the door open and glances down the hallway; first to the right, then to the left. Summer and Landon stand behind her as they wait to hear the verdict. She finally peeks over her shoulder and whispers, "It's clear. Remember the plan."

They all nod at each other. During their planning, Landon decided it'd be best if he stuck with Jaden to make sure she isn't setting them up. He voiced his disgruntled opinion of leaving Summer to her own devices, but knows if anything were to go awry that she'll be able to find the best hiding spot until he's able to find her.

Jaden is the first to step foot into the hallway and quickly goes left toward the kitchen. Landon and Summer are next.

"Be careful," he whispers to her.

There are no words to say, even if she did speak. Instead, she gives him a tight hug and takes off down the hallway in the opposite direction. The plan is for Landon and Jaden to distract the Secret Clock Society. Summer has no idea who they are or what they do exactly, but when Jaden speaks of them, she does so carefully. Like she's seen something she can't comprehend or form into words.

Summer flies down the corridor and runs into the end of it where she knows that just outside there are steps that lead to the Captain's area. Carefully, she peeks out of the door and sees someone she doesn't recognize. They definitely aren't part of the crew. The man has short, dark hair, a closely shaven face, and is wearing the nicest looking black coat she's ever seen. This guy must be part of the Society. She's not quite sure how she's going to get past him until her eyes land on a broom that Landon must have left on the deck earlier today. She slips her shoes off to prevent making any noise.

Thanking the Captain for his pet peeve of never having a squeaky door, she pulls the door forward when the man's back turns to her. There are a few lights out on the deck which makes excellent shadows for her to hide in. She hugs the wall and scoots along, her fingers outstretched for the broom's handle.

The man pivots back around, and she freezes. Her breath is already heavy from running down the hallway, but she doesn't want to move her hand to cover her mouth. Her lips seal in an attempt to make herself as quiet as possible. Her heart slams into her ribs roughly as the man's eyes—almost glowing in the dark—rake over the shadows. A bead of sweat rolls down her face as he focuses on a spot next to her. Tears fill her eyes in an effort to hold her lips shut. Her lungs feel like they aren't receiving enough oxygen, and her muscles are pulled so tight in her current position that she's waiting for them to rip and tear free from her bones.

The man shrugs, lights a cigarette, and turns back around. She is so relieved that she almost collapses. She continues to hug the wall until her fingers find purchase on the broom. Most of the cleaning supplies on the Cosmos are old and worn down. There isn't a broom on the whole ship that doesn't come apart at the base. This is the first time she doesn't mentally complain about the crappy cleaning supplies—she's actually thanking the Captain again.

This is the hard part. With more grace than she even knows she has, she squats next to the broom. Afraid it'll make a noise, she gently holds the base and the stick, her lips still sealed to prevent any excess noise. Another bead of sweat rolls down her nose and plops onto the ground. Then she begins to twist the stick until it breaks free from the base. She softly lets the broom lean against the wall. Her heart's palpitations speed up, and her eyes dilate as she holds on to the wall to help her get up.

In mid-motion, the man turns around again, tapping the ashes free from his cigarette before he takes another drag, the tip lighting orange in the dark. His eyes trace over the shadows again, but this time he thinks he sees something. She's so convinced it's her that she grips the stick with overwhelming force; her fingers ache from it. The man slowly makes his way over to her, though he seems to be unsure of what he's looking at. When he's merely a few meters away, Summer raises the brooms stick and brings it down over the man's head.

There's a grunt as he falls to his knees, though he's still conscious. She starts shaking at what she just did, but knows if he's given a chance to call out he will. She brings the stick back down on his head with a thwack that reminds her of the whip cutting viciously through the air. Tears burst from her eyes as she hits him one last time before he collapses onto the ground, blood soaking his nice coat and hair. The stick drops from her hands and clanks on the deck, bouncing a little. She can't believe she just did that.

Heavy footfalls echo not far away. A woman's frenzied voice calls out to the man, and Summer's eyes snap up from the unconscious man. The shadow of the woman extends across the deck. She has no idea where the light is coming from, but it's insanely bright.

Summer takes off up the stairs, her footfalls muffled by the fact she isn't wearing shoes. Each breath brings in the smell of smoke, and she tries not to cough and bring attention to herself. She's now at one of the highest points of the ship, and up here she can see where the kitchen is at on the other side. She's so mesmerized by what she sees that she forgets about the woman that is just now rounding the corner.

The ship is on fire, a glowing beacon in the ocean's wide abyss. She also notices there is another ship, and it's partially sticking into the side of the Cosmos, which is much lower in the water than Summer's ever seen. We're sinking, she realizes in horror, frozen in place. If the woman looks up she'll be able to clearly see Summer standing there. A few seconds pass with her mouth wide open, her mind frantically trying to put the pieces together. But all she can think about is Landon and if he's okay.

Unexpectedly, arms wrap around her and fling her backwards into a room.

"It's me," Landon whispers when she starts to fight him, a movement she knows would warrant a punishment. She quickly relaxes in his arms and knows she's going to be safe now. Landon never punishes.

When she looks around she notices that they are in the room that's filled with the small boating supplies. Landon reaches into a box and pulls out a life vest.

"Put this on," he commands urgently.

She does as she's told, but looks up at him questioningly. He's covered in black ash, and his hair is partially singed. On his left shoulder is a horrifically nasty burn that's gone through his shirt. After this she quickly looks over him for anymore damage, but he seems to be okay.

With the vest on, he says, "I lost Jaden. I need to find her."

She grasps his lower arms and shakes her head. You can't leave me again, she tries to convey with her eyes.

"Listen, Ducky. Ye need to go to the boat that hangs off the side of the ship. Wait there for me, okay?"

Tears litter her eyes as she hangs her head as it shakes back and forth. He snatches her chin and makes her look at him. "Be strong for me. I know ye—the pepper story is legendary." He smirks down at her. "Put on that brave face and go!" He points toward the door.

She gives a tight nod, takes a deep breath, and holds out her chest.

"That's it," he says proudly.

Summer opens the door, and just outside is the woman. Summer backs away and into Landon who seizes her and moves her to the side. A gun flies up and points at Landon's head.

"Give me the girl," demands the woman in a cold voice.

"Hell no!" he spits.

The gun clicks as she holds it steadier in her grip. "Fine. You mean nothing to me—your life is forfeit."

Right before she is able to put pressure on the trigger, Summer pushes Landon into the woman. She stumbles back as the gun goes off and parts of the ceiling rain down on them. Landon is able to yank the gun from her grip as he punches the woman in the stomach.

"Go, Ducky! Run!" he shouts.

Summer jumps over them and down the stairs. The man at the bottom is sitting up, dazed, holding his head. She kicks him in the gut—though without shoes she's not sure how much it actually hurts. He grunts and falls back down to the ground anyway.

She feels silly wearing the life vest as she rushes towards the side of the ship where the boat overhangs. Before she can reach it something explodes, and she's thrown overboard. Her hair flings wildly into her face as she flies through the air backwards. It happens so quickly that she isn't sure how to react, then her back smacks against the ocean water. She plummets several feet into the depths until her life vest yanks her back to the surface. She spits salty water from her mouth and goes into an immediate coughing fit. The water is a little chilly, but it's not too cold. Her biggest fear? She can't swim. Silly, she realizes, considering I've lived on a ship in the middle of the ocean for most of my life.

She glances up to the ship that is now halfway in the water, the other half an insatiable, eager fire. The dining table drifts by, and she attempts to swim over to it, all the while thanking Landon for making her put the life vest on. Perhaps he knew the ship would sink. It takes several tries before she is able to get onto the table, but she finally does. She drifts for a while, wondering where Landon and Jaden are and hoping they aren't hurt. Hoping they'll find her before she drifts too far from the wreckage.

To her horror, the ship breaks into several pieces until it's overtaken by the ocean's fearless water, swallowing every last inch of the fire with it.
CHAPTER 8: BEACHED

15 years old

The sun embraces the water and brings the ocean alive with orange, red, and pink. Clouds scatter in the sky, burning with the sun's rays. Summer's lips are cracked and bleeding; she is so thirsty she considers drinking the ocean water even though she knows it will only hurt, and her skin is so burned she is not sure if she can suffer through another day at sea. The sight of the sun should be a relief because now she can see farther out, but to her disgust there isn't land in sight. She flops back against the dining table and wonders where she is, but mostly where Landon is. He saved her life and now his might be . . . forfeit, just as the lady said. Surely not, though, she tries to convince herself. It's impossible.

She drifts over wave after wave and considers speaking again. There isn't a soul out on the water—nothing to be anxious about. She mouths several words but none of them are verbal. She tries again and again, but continues to fail. She yells at herself internally for being such a stupid coward. She has no excuses anymore, yet she still can't form a single syllable. Hours pass as her mind wanders onto other subjects. She daydreams of a merman coming to her rescue and falling in love with him, only to be separated by land.

At that thought she begins to wonder what it's like to actually be on solid ground. She pictures digging her toes into the sand, and the smell of grass on the breeze. She wants to climb a tree and smell a flower. The water seems to turn from a dark blue to a light green. She can almost see to the bottom of the water it is so clear. She lies on her stomach and watches schools of fish swim past in rippling patterns.

Another hour passes when suddenly she's thrown off the dining table, flips through the air, and lands with a splash in the water. Her feet immediately find purchase under the water. The life vest forces her to float as she gasps for air. Another wave quickly sends her sailing forward. When she comes up for air the second time, she realizes she is on a beach. It's the most beautiful sight she has ever seen, though it's not exactly what she had pictured. It's always been marinas and shipyards—now it's endless sand.

The beach seems to go on forever in both directions. Palm trees dot the area, and in the distance there are patches of green and brown. Once on land, the sand is too hot to stand on and she runs through it until she reaches a shady spot. The sand there is cool and squishes between her toes. Thirst momentarily forgotten, she can't help but be fascinated with this as she wiggles her toes over and over, finally digging her feet deeply into the sand. She wishes she could share this moment with Landon.

The sound of the water crashing against the shore is so relaxing that Summer begins to think of sleep. She finds the perfect spot between two palm trees and curls up on the sand, her head in a patch of grass that smells so wonderful she puts her nose in it. Exhaustion eats at her, and soon her eyes droop until they close in sleep. She doesn't care that her resting place is on a deserted beach. She's too tired to.

"Summer?" Someone shakes her. "Summer? Wake up!" The voice is relieved.

She pops open one of her sapphire blue eyes and meets Jaden's smiling face. Her other eye pops open too as she takes in her features. Jaden's skin is burned, but not as badly as her own, and Jaden's hair's in a wild fit of tangles around her face. Just like Summer did in her room, she latches onto Jaden and hugs her so closely she's sure it's cutting off Jaden's air supply. Jaden returns the hug for a moment before they both pull away. Summer immediately begins scanning the area for Landon.

"I haven't seen him," she admits, frowning now.

Summer's eyes snap back to hers with raised eyebrows.

"I'm sorry. We were separated, and I never found him." She plops down next to her. "I've been searching the beach all morning and nothing."

Summer's shoulders slump in disappointment.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm sure he's fine." It sounds more like she's trying to convince herself than anything. "Anyway, the sun's about to set. I think we should go find some wood and start a big fire. If he's still out to sea he'll be able to find us."

Summer nods enthusiastically. Why didn't I think of that?

First, they find water inland, much to Summer's approval. Everything on land fascinates her. She can't help but touch every plant she comes across and smell the wild flowers growing everywhere. Though it's uncomfortable to walk without shoes when she's not on the sand, she can't help but find even the ground enthralling. Jaden laughs at her several times and even has to remind her to pick up dry wood to burn. She's not sure how they will start this fire, but Jaden probably knows. Right?

Along with plant life, there are also several bugs she's never seen before that she can't help but stare at.

"Don't touch that!" Jaden warns suddenly when she reaches for a viney plant. "It's poison oak. It'll make you itch and cause a rash. Trust me—stay far, far away from that!"

Summer stares at her in horror and yanks her hand back.

They finally collect a substantial amount of wood to burn right as the sun begins to disappear over the horizon. There's barely enough light left for Jaden to start the fire. How she does it shocks Summer, though. Jaden uses a stone, a stick, and some dried up leaves. When smoke wafts into the air, she blows gently on it, and the leaves begin to glow before they catch fire. It spreads rapidly and soon they have a full-blown fire going. The flames lick wildly at the oxygen infested air with ravenous fingers. It's highly impressive.

"So, why don't you speak?" Jaden asks as they warm themselves next to the fire.

Summer smiles and just shrugs. What can she say? Oh wait, she can't. Not even when she's alone. Pathetic.

"That was a stupid question," Jaden admits with a slight frown.

There's an awkward silence between the two. She's not use to people not knowing what to say around her. Usually people find her silence comforting—a means to say whatever they want without interruption. Everyone on the Cosmos filled the silence, especially Landon. He said that for people not to talk with her would only place more anxiety on her, but she honestly doesn't care either way. It isn't like she's ever going to talk again. I wonder what my voice would sound like anyway? she wonders as she throws a stick into the fire. Sparks rise into the air in a flutter, agitated by the intruder.

"So," Jaden says uncertainly, finally breaking the growing silence, "if you can't talk, guess I'll have to fill the silence."

Summer smiles at her encouragingly.

"You know, my family was poor back in the states, but then my brother hit the jackpot."

She raises her eyebrows, asking her what "jackpot" means.

Jaden's eyes sparkle, reflecting the ambitious fire. "It means he won a ton of money. Anyway, my mother decided it'd be fun to go to Britain. I was young and had recently watched this cartoon with a prince who had an English accent. I thought I'd meet him. The rest of my family groaned, but I jumped at the opportunity to leave the reservation—back in Arizona."

Again, Summer looks at her questioningly.

"Oh! Yeah, my family is descended from the Native Americans. I'm part of the Hopi Tribe. Get this—my last name is Redleaf. Silly, isn't it?" says Jaden with a laugh.

Summer shakes her head no. She actually likes it a lot compared to her last name: Waverly. Not that she doesn't love her name, but it's not as colorful—pun intended.

"Yeah?"

She nods with a warm smile.

"Yeah, okay. I like it too. I'm not quite sure how I got lost, but I did on our last day there. I swear I saw that prince in the crowd and next thing I know I'm being led away by someone telling me they'll help me find my 'mum.' At first I laughed at them saying 'mum' instead of mom. But then I ended up in that house." She visibly shudders at the thought and so does Summer.

Jaden takes a deep breath before she continues, her eyes mesmerized by the dancing fire. "I was sold to this man who made me do the most horrific things imaginable. Then every night he'd reward me with gifts. On the outside you'd think I was living the good life, but he was horrible to me. I think he got off on torture." There is no more explanation, and none is needed. They both know.

Summer reaches out and takes her hand, her eyes conveying every last bit of apology she can. Jaden looks up with tears in her eyes and holds her arms out. They both hug and cry; several of the tears are for the past, but many of them are for the future. They're free now—no more slavery. The image in Summer's mind is so intoxicating she can't help but imagine all the things she'll do.

Maybe I'll go to high school and meet a faerie or vampire, she thinks excitedly, but the picture is devoid of Landon.

When they separate, Summer searches the empty ocean for her missing best friend. "Hey, we'll find him," Jaden comforts.

She hopes Jaden's right—after four years of him being there almost every second of every day it can't just end like this. Preferably it'll never end.

That night they sleep under the dazzling stars, and the shining, flirtatious moon, but there is something brighter in their midst. Summer springs forward from her sleeping position, gasping for air. She's not sure what's happening, but her heart is exploding in her chest, and her body is vibrating with an urgency to do . . . something. Jaden rises and looks around the beach for what's bothering Summer. Summer can't catch her breath, and she starts to gasp and choke for any air she can swallow. Jaden's frantically saying something, but Summer can't hear—she's starting to lose her senses. Her skin begins to glow like the burning wood at the bottom of the fire, and they both go wide-eyed. Their eyes meet, brown and blue. A blinding light explodes from Summer, and they collapse onto the sand.
CHAPTER 9: 2210

16 years old

Summer's not quite sure what's going on except she's physically exhausted, mentally scared, and ravenously hungry and thirsty. The world pulses around her in time with her untamed heartbeat. Everything about her feels heavy, like she's drank liquid steel and now can't lift her arms, legs, torso, or, well, anything—except her eyes lids. And that's sketchy at best. She hears voices all around her and attempts to move her head so she can see who it is. There is only one voice she recognizes: Jaden's. Everyone else is speaking in accents she's never heard. She only hears clips here and there, and none of it makes sense.

She feels a warm, gentle hand stroke her face and wishes her eyes would just cooperate.

"You're— hand me— long has— eat something—" It's a male's voice just above her, and again, she just wishes her eyes would open. He's got such a strange, yet intriguing accent.

The tender hand caresses her chapped lips and tentatively draws her mouth open. Even if she had the strength to fight him, she knows she wouldn't. If he's here to make her a slave again, she doesn't want to be punished for fighting. She doubts this is the case since he is touching her so carefully.

Cool water is poured into her mouth, and she instinctively gulps the refreshing water with vigor. She can feel it go all the way down her esophagus and swirl around her stomach. An arm wraps around her shoulders, and she's pulled into a sitting position. She's so desperate to keep the water flowing she reaches for the source of it. Her fingers clasp around a strangely shaped container, and then she chugs the water. It takes all of her strength just to hold it that her body begins to fall backward. Hell, she didn't even notice she was sitting up on her own.

She's caught by several hands and is lowered to the sand. "Slow down there," the same male voice says with a chuckle and lowers the container from her mouth.

Summer takes in several deep breaths and is finally able to open her eyes. She realizes she's dead, because before her is an angel. There's no mistaking it. There's a halo of light around his golden blonde hair, and his rich, green eyes stare at her with an intensity she's never seen before—not even in Landon's fathomlessly deep eyes. His nose has a tiny bump on it that she immediately finds so endearing she wants to kiss it. She's never kissed anyone before—except her mum. He smiles at her, and she melts at the small dimples at the corners of his mouth. His teeth are white and straight, she notes, but regardless of his handsome features, she can't seem to shy too far away from his hypnotic green eyes.

"Hi," he says softly, like she's as delicate as a flower petal.

She tries to smile back, but she's positive it doesn't look right.

"Your friend found us just in time." He glances away before meeting her eyes again. She can't help but stare deeply into those eyes, noticing all the different shades of green that melt together to form them. "Do you think you can stand?"

She shakes her head, embarrassed by her weakness.

"Ay, that's understandable." His eyes leave hers before they come back again. "Are you hungry?" He seems so uncertain, like he's never been in this situation before.

"Stupid question, eh?" a female says. "The girl's obviously malnourished."

He shakes his head before smiling at her again. "Sorry—what would you like to eat?"

Tearing her eyes away from his, she searches for Jaden to help her. Jaden immediately comes into her view, hovering a few feet above her.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you—she doesn't talk," Jaden explains.

There are several exclamations from people around her. The angel keeps gazing at her as his arm wraps around her shoulders to help her up.

"Really?" the angel asks as he seeks the truth with his attentive eyes.

Summer nods quickly, only making the world warp around her. He quickly helps her back down onto the sand.

"Well that's okay," he assures hastily, as if wanting her to be as comfortable as possible. "Besides, Cameron speaks enough for the entire female population of the Federation," he says jokingly.

"Bite me, Meter Head," Cameron quips, still out of view.

"I'm Gage, by the way," he says to Summer and smiles wider. "Not Meter Head." He glares lightheartedly at the girl behind her. "What's your name?" He glances back.

"Summer," answers Jaden quickly.

"Well, Summer." The sound of her name on his tongue makes butterflies flutter manically in her stomach. She finally understands the saying "gives me butterflies" that she is always reading in books.

"We don't have the most delicious food with us, but we do have some. We have noodles with lacery sauce. How does that sound?"

She nods, having no idea what "lacery sauce" is. He carefully lets her go, making sure she won't fall backwards again. She manages not to plummet backwards, to her delight.

"Actually," Jaden says swiftly, "I've hunted up some good food, if you want something not dried up."

There are a few cries of horror from whoever is behind her, and then someone gasps out, "You killed . . . an animal . . . out here?"

"Several, in fact," Jaden admits. "How do you think I've stayed alive for the past several days? It isn't like steaks are growing on the trees out here. A girl's gotta eat!"

"What did you catch?" Gage asks with morbid curiosity.

"Today? A rabbit."

"Rabbit it is!" he exclaims with delight.

"You can't be serious?" a girl barks with so much vehemence, Summer's sure her skin is going to melt.

How many people are here? she wonders and begins to turn to look, but the world spirals in unnatural angles, and she gives up.

"It's already dead, Paige. No need to waste it," Gage replies dryly, as if he argues with her a lot.

"It's against the law! If Kevin hears about this we'll be several feet deep in splashers," Paige disagrees heatedly.

"Okay," he replies slowly, "you eat the dried up food, and we'll feast on rabbit." The way his face lights up makes it seem like he's never had rabbit before. Well, neither has Summer.

"I think I will," Paige says with a huff. "I'd rather do that than break bread with the Outlanders." Her voice drips with disgust.

"We don't even know if they are Outlanders," argues a male voice behind Summer who's started a mental inventory of how many people are crowded around her.

Gage, Cameron, Paige, and now another male.

"Just look at them," Paige snaps. "Their clothes are—I don't even think you can call those clothes! And they're obviously unaware of our laws. You can't just go kill an animal whenever you want!"

"What's an Outlander?" Jaden wonders before she tacks on, "And that law is stupid, by the way!" Paige gasps and Gage chuckles, gratifying in Jaden's nonchalance at the laws. Summer has a feeling he doesn't agree with the law.

"It's not important," answers Gage. "Now where did you two come from?" He looks at Summer when he asks, as if he's trying to read the answer in her eyes.

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you!" Jaden exclaims.

"Let me guess," Paige snaps, "you're from the past?"

Someone chuckles behind Summer—she wishes they'd come around so she could see them. Not that she'd pay attention with Gage still crouched down in front of her with his absorbing green eyes. . . .

"What?" Jaden's face scrunches up, and her eyebrows come together. "No. That's a little too out there." She snorts. "Summer and I were slaves, and the ship we were on crashed about a week ago."

Has it been that long? Summer thinks absentmindedly.

Jaden continues, "And we both drifted to shore a few days after that. Summer got sick, and I couldn't wake her; that's when I began to search for someone to help us."

She notices that Jaden's left out the part about the light exploding out of her, which she's grateful for because she has no idea what it was. Probably just a hallucination.

"Slaves? Really?" Gage asks Summer, aghast. She nods solemnly.

"That sounds like a load of splash," Paige cuts in, disbelieving.

"You think I burned myself for fun?" Jaden asks and shoves her arms forward, wrists together.

Paige finally walks into view, her face hidden behind a curtain of honeyed brown hair. Her frame is thin, though thick with muscles. It's the first time she's noticed their clothing. They're wearing matching black and green uniforms with several electronic thingies on their belts. Summer doesn't recognize any of it. They have on black boots that wrap tightly around their calves—but no laces. There are several multi-colored buttons on the jackets over their black undershirts.

Paige snatches Jaden's wrists and stares at them carefully. "Looks like you got into a bad accident, eh? You could've got these scars anywhere." She practically throws Jaden's arm back at her. "Next time be more creative with your story."

Paige twists around and glares down at Summer with her light brown eyes that match her hair perfectly. Her face is hard and angry.

"Fine! If you don't believe me, then explain the whip scars on our backs!" Jaden shouts, pissed off now.

There's silence as Summer nods forlornly.

"May I?" Gage asks so softly his voice is almost a whisper.

Summer doesn't move, only gazes into his eyes as her breath picks up speed. He's the one who ends up nodding, as if he can read her soul. He stands and circles around her before his warm fingers hook under her shirt—or rags, really. He lifts it just a little bit at first, pauses, and his breath grows rapid along with hers. He yanks the cloth up a little higher, and his fingers run along her scars. She flinches, and he quickly retreats.

"Sorry. I didn't hurt you, did I?" he whispers in her ear.

She shakes her head, tears now trailing down her face as the memories of the whip biting into her skin assault her. She trembles and can't stop. Again, she's embarrassed by how weak she's being in front of all these people. It's all too much, and it was bound to leak from her one way or the other.

He lifts her shirt again, and his fingers tenderly trail over her scars. She can feel his hot breath on her neck. "How many times?" His voice chokes with emotion.

She shrugs as Jaden says quietly, "Until she quit screaming. And then until she quit crying . . . and then when she stopped talking altogether they finally stopped."

The silence that follows her statement is so deafening and thick you can slice it into pieces and make a meal of it. Until Paige breaks it. "Hah. That's the biggest sob story I've ever heard—and the biggest load of splash, too! I bet I can make her talk."

Paige comes into Summer's sight again and drops down in front of her. Gage lets go of her shirt so her back is covered again.

"Don't," he commands, all emotion gone from his voice.

"Please! You can't tell me you believe this splash?" She stares at him with hate over Summer's shoulder.

"These scars aren't fake, Paige. Just because it sounds unbelievable doesn't mean it isn't true." At her back she can feel the tension radiating from Gage.

"I'll prove it," she bellows and slaps Summer hard across her face. It stings fiercely, and Summer covers her cheek with her palm. Summer's had worse done to her before, and there isn't anything that Paige can do that'll make her talk.

There are several gasps as Paige raises her hand to do it again. Summer looks into her honey eyes, refusing to flinch. Paige's hand's about to make contact again when Gage seizes her wrist. "That's enough, Brooks. If you want me to pull the rank card on you I will. Do you want to be Paige around here, or Brooks? Cause I can make your life a living hell, eh?"

Daggers fly from Paige's glare. "I've been in the League longer than you, Appleton. Don't you start throwing last names around like you're something special. You're nothing but splash beneath my shoe!"

"I don't care how old you are, I am still your commanding officer, and you'll do as I tell you. You are not to lay a single finger on Summer. Got it, Brooks?" Gage's angelic voice darkens and roars with authority.

"Yes, Lieutenant Appleton," she replies reluctantly and a little sarcastically.

He releases Paige's arm, and she backs away, glaring the whole time.

"Gage, they could still be Outlanders," a male says unwillingly.

Gage lands on his knees in front of Summer again, sweetly checking her cheek for any permanent damage. "Are you okay?" His breath tickles her cheek.

She nods, though she doesn't want him to stop touching her cheek. Her face flushes at the thought, and she's glad the burning slap mark conceals it.

"Gage," the male's voice says again in warning.

"I heard you, Bruce." He sighs. "What year is it?" he asks Summer, again using his hypnotic green eyes to stare into her soul, seeking the answer.

"Did you lose your calendar?" Jaden asks, confused.

"Just—tell me what year it is."

"It's 2010. Duh."

"No it's not sweetie," Cameron says and steps into Summer's view. Her face is much softer than Paige's, and her dark eyes are kinder, too.

"Cameron—" Gage begins, but is cut off.

"They have a right to know," Cameron says softly.

"They don't have rights at all," snaps Paige.

"Will someone tell me what's going on?" Jaden folds her arms.

Cameron places a tentative hand on Jaden's stiff arms. "Honey, it's 2210."
CHAPTER 10: IMPLANTS

16 years old

"Real funny," Jaden says with a laugh. "You must really think we're stupid, don't you? We were slaves, not slow."

"It's not a lie," replies Gage, his voice unfaltering.

"And next you're going to tell me the Canadians have taken over." She goes into a fit of giggles. "And instead of the mounties riding horses they now ride unicorns!" More laughter.

Humorless silence greets her.

Jaden's laughter trails off as she meets the eyes of everyone around her. "What? There really are unicorns?"

Summer is curious—unicorns are another one of those mythical creatures she believes in that Landon tells her aren't real.

"Hardly." Paige snorts arrogantly. "The Canadians have taken over." Her hand rushes through the air in welcoming. "This is the Canadian Federation. It has been for a hundred years after we fought those Yankees."

"Except New York," adds Bruce.

Jaden can't speak; she mouths a few words, but nothing comes out.

"Why is it that all of the Outlanders find this so unbelievable?" asks Cameron as she takes a seat in the sand next to Summer.

"Oh, I don't know," says Jaden sarcastically. "Could it be because the Canadians are neutral and have no army? They just aren't territorial!"

"Of course we have an army!" disagrees Cameron.

"Hah! Not one that could take the U.S." Jaden sits in the sand across from Cameron.

"When the American's were destroying the world, one stupid bomb and war after another, we had to stop them," Paige jumps in crossly. "World War Three? Disastrous! Add in the Fourth and Fifth and we couldn't take it anymore! Everyone's eyes were so focused on the U.S. that they didn't even see us coming." She places her hands on her hips with a huff, towering over Summer, Jaden, Gage, and Cameron.

Summer looks to Gage for answers.

"It's true," he admits. "We took Washington with no problems. There were even Americans who joined our side when they found out about our invasion."

"Prove it," says Jaden curtly.

"This was invented only twenty years ago, so maybe this will prove it, eh?" Gage leans forward and points at his ear.

Jaden leans forward. "What am I looking for?"

"You'll know it when you see it." He taps his ear again. Summer also leans in, holding onto his shoulder gently to steady herself as they stare into his ear.

The sunlight catches the tiny piece of metal that looks as if it's crawling out of his ear, its fingers stuck deeply into his skin. Summer can't help herself as she raises her fingers to his ear, wanting to feel the thing. It actually appears to be a part of him. She touches the metal, and Gage jerks. She pulls her hand back quickly.

"It doesn't hurt—just tickled," he says as he sits up straight, smiling.

"What is that thing?" asks Jaden with awe.

"It's a neural implant so we can telepathically communicate with others," he explains. "It's also a tracking device and required when you join the Canadian League."

"Telepathically? Then why do you even need to talk to each other?" asks Jaden in an awe-struck daze.

"Because—" Cameron rolls her eyes. "—Gage hates the technology and won't accept our communications when we're in talking distance."

"Well," he defends, "I think it's lazy to not just talk . . ." he trails off and chances a glance at Summer. "Sorry."

Summer shrugs and smiles at him. She knows it's not because she's lazy, but because of her anxiety. Actually, she's quite interested in this technology—maybe she'll never have to speak again. She can just mind-to-mind it with people.

"Let's quit playing games," a male says behind her. She jumps, unaware that there is anyone else.

"True, Gage, they're Outlanders. We have to bring them in," Bruce agrees, though a little more reluctantly.

"I know," he says grudgingly. "Let's eat first, eh?"

"And risk them running off?" snaps Paige.

"Summer can barely sit up, and Jaden's not going anywhere without her, are you?" Gage glances at Jaden who shakes her head.

"I blew up a ship to save her—I'm not leaving now, especially if she's going to basically be imprisoned again if I do."

"Blow up a ship?" asks Gage, but is quickly interrupted.

"She'll be a prisoner whether you stay or not—not that you'd be able to escape us," says Paige smugly.

Gage glances back to Summer, a frown etched into his face so deeply she can see it in his eyes. "It's not like that," he defends halfheartedly.

"You know what I think?" the quiet male says sternly.

"No, what do you think Max?" Gage's eyes flip up over her head and turn from tender to irritated in a second.

"I think you need to quit playing the game of rescuer when we're here to take them in. This whole charade is getting ridiculous. So what if they were slaves? They're still Outlanders—this chick even broke one of our laws!" Max's voice holds so much fury she's surprised Gage doesn't catch on fire.

"Way to show compassion," says Cameron dryly.

"You can't blame Jaden for not knowing our laws if she's an Outlander, Everfast!" Gage's words are snarled out.

"Here we go with the last name tolietsplash again," says Paige, and Summer can practically hear the eye roll in her voice.

Gage ignores them, leans into Summer, wraps an arm around her waist, and pulls her to her feet. He moves so fast this surprises her, and she immediately latches onto him. She wraps her arms around his shoulders as their bodies touch. It ends up being a lot harder than it looks because he towers over her. She lets go, though he keeps his arm around her waist. She's positive her heart's pounding out a song right now, her blood singing with joy at his touch. He stares down at her like he's surprised by his own actions too, unsure of what to do next. He releases her. She stumbles and immediately grabs his forearms to steady herself. She glances down at her feet and then back up at him. He's smiling at her, and she grins back, unable not to.

"Can you walk?"

She shrugs and tests the waters—or sand, as it is. She's already dizzy from lack of food and water, but she's able to take a few steps. On her fourth, her legs quit working, and she starts to fall. Gage catches her and sweeps her off her feet. The whole thing is so cliché she tries not to verbally chuckle. She knows this won't last—she's an Outlander (whatever that meant). They want to put them in prison. His expression is very serious when he stares into her eyes.

"I guess that's a no." His eyes snap up, and he gestures with his head for someone to come forward. It's Cameron, and her face is crestfallen as she looks Summer over. "Cameron, I need you to check her out. Even if she's an Outlander, she deserves our care," he adds before protests can start.

"Of course," she agrees in a sweet voice as her brown eyes meet Summer's. "Is that okay with you?"

She doesn't know what to say—she's not sure what "check her out" means. She bites her lip and frantically looks between the two until Jaden comes to the rescue again.

"She doesn't know what you mean." Jaden sighs like this should be so obvious. "You need to explain to her what you want to do, if it's permission you want."

The whole idea of someone asking Summer for permission is so mind-blowing she actually turns giddy with the thought. She can say no if she wants. She can deny them—but what if she is punished for it? She frowns, the giddiness gone.

"Oh." Cameron smiles kindly.

Jaden sees Summer's expression and hastily adds on, "If she says no, you won't punish her, right?"

Gage and Cameron both snap their heads in Jaden's direction. "What?" they both say, disgusted.

"Of course we won't," says Gage with fervor.

"As a slave, you either answer how your master wants you to or you are punished and eventually do," Jaden tells them when they continue to look at her in horror.

"That's not what we're about," says Cameron, offended.

"Okay. Explain away then."

"I'm going through school to become a doctor. I know back in the day it was rare for someone so young to already be going to school for it, but now they start when we're children. I've been training to be a doctor since I was eight. I'm twenty now. I only have one more year.

"What I'm going to be doing is checking you for injuries internally and externally just to make sure you're okay. Understand?" asks Cameron.

Summer nods and worries there might be something wrong with her now. She hasn't been checked over by a doctor since before she was taken.

"You want me to—" Gage gestures putting Summer down. Cameron shakes her head.

"Not yet." Cameron pinches the bottom of Summer's ragged shirt. "May I?"

Summer nods again and glances up into Gage's face. He's watching Cameron with a serious expression, his eyes steady and his mouth a straight line.

Cameron lifts her shirt up above her belly button and folds her pants down a few inches. Cameron gasps and so does Gage. Summer's eyes go wide at their reaction, and then she looks at her belly. She's skinnier than normal, but not by much. She's got a few bruises from tumbling into the ocean and being lost at sea, but other than that she can't see what everyone is gasping about. She looks towards Gage first, whose eyes are closed tightly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows thickly.

Is something wrong with me? she wonders.

She then looks at Cameron who's shocked; her mouth's absently ajar, and her eyes are frantically moving as she examines her. Cameron continues her assessment by pressing Summer's belly down and asking "Does this hurt?" or "Is this uncomfortable?" She also traces scars on her belly and asks where she got them.

Summer turns her head and puts it against Gage's chest, tired of being put on the spot. She immediately soaks in his scent—it's musky with a hint of fresh laundry and something she can't describe. Maybe this is what cologne smells like, she realizes while taking another sniff of the stuff. He smells so good.

"She doesn't speak," she hears rumble from his chest.

"Of course." There's a pause.

"What?" Gage asks.

Cameron's voice becomes a whisper. "These scars are old. Like several years old." She raises her voice. "Jaden, how long has Summer been a slave?"

"Since she was four—her birthday was just a few days ago. She's sixteen."

Summer turns her head, realizing Jaden's right. And she's surprised that Jaden knows this much information, but then remembers that Jaden was originally sent to capture her and was probably told, or overheard, all this information about her. Thinking of her birthday depresses her because normally she and Landon celebrate by stealing chocolate bars from the kitchen.

Cameron's voice lowers again. "We can't take her to the Outlander's camp. She won't last—think of the psychological scars that accompany the physical ones? She's practically been starved! I can see every bone with more detail than I should be able to. This is the worst case of starvation I've ever seen." Her voice lowers even more. "And damn them." Her eyes flicker behind Gage. "She's eating that rabbit! It'll help more than the crap the League gives us to eat."

"How am I supposed to get away with not taking her to the camp?" Gage whispers, not really arguing, but asking for help.

"I don't know, but you've got to think of something. The poor girl can barely walk."

Summer's tired of everyone's attention being on her, and the anxiety feels like it's ripping her apart. She places a hand on Cameron's forearm. When Cameron glances down, Summer tries to give her a reassuring smile. Right now all she can think about is changing the subject. She's taken a lot of crap before, and whatever is in store she can handle it. There is no reason to take anyone else down with her.

Cameron lets out a breath and looks back to Gage. "I mean look, she's about to be put in prison, and she's conveying to me she'll be okay."

Jaden pops up next to Cameron. "She's had a crap week. This girl is a lot stronger then you two give her credit for."

They both give Jaden a disbelieving—and disapproving—look.

Gage pivots around with Summer in his arms. "We're going to have to camp out tonight," he announces. "I can't carry her all the way back, and she needs to eat to gain strength. She can't even walk. We'll leave tomorrow as long as she can handle the trip." His tone is firm and says it's final, no arguing.

"Rabbit, anyone?" chirps Jaden cheerfully, completely unperturbed.

Paige and Max are so bluntly pissed Summer's surprised their hair doesn't turn into snakes and strike. Bruce nods once, catching Gage's eyes with a knowing look.

"Jaden, I'd love some rabbit," says Gage, his eyes not leaving Bruce's. Tension rises in the group, but no one argues.

"Great! I'll start the fire again." And off Jaden goes, Paige following in her wake like a creepy shadow.

Gage moves toward the pile of ash that was once a great fire and gently helps Summer to the ground. The others make themselves busy, but his eyes are only for her.

"Hope you don't mind." His voice lowers. "Paige and Max are like—" He pauses, thinking of the right metaphor. "They're like an unpinned grenade, unstable and ready to blow at any minute. Does that make sense?"

She nods and smiles at how uncertain he is.

"If I leave you they might decide to continue with the Let's Make Summer Speak game."

She visible shudders, and he raises his hand but then puts it back down, not sure what to do.

"Is the story true? You know, about why you don't speak?" His green eyes are horrified with the idea, and beneath that they're hoping it's a hoax.

She reaches out for his hand and pulls it into her lap. She opens his hand, palm up, and taps once with her finger.

His eyebrows come together. "What's that mean?"

She gives a tight nod and taps once into his palm at the same time.

"Yes?"

She repeats the movement.

"Two for no?" he guesses, and she nods with a smile. "So the story is true?"

She taps once into his palm, and he frowns deeply. "I wish I could kill the person who did that to you," he growls low.

Summer can't keep up her "it's okay" charade and lets her shoulders slump. It's the worst thing she's ever gone through. Punishment on the Cosmos was rare and never as bad as it was in that house, but the scars are not just skin deep.

"So you were whipped. You weren't . . . raped, were you?" He chokes out the last part, and she can see in his eyes a storm brewing. She must admit to herself what Jarvis did was so awful that she'd probably prefer to be whipped.

She taps twice into his palm, and he lets out a long breath. Then she taps once. He looks confused. "They . . . tried?" he guesses.

She taps once and lets out a breath of her own.

"I'll kill 'em," growls Gage again, and she finds this so charming she can't help but lean against his shoulder. He stiffens for a second before he takes his free palm and holds her head against his arm. "I swear I will."

And she'll let him.
CHAPTER 11: SILENCE

4 Years Old

The whip sits outside of Summer's room, taunting her. Two weeks and she's covered in welts; even her welts have welts. Today she is given an old apple core and another piece of moldy bread to eat—which she does eagerly. It's now been three days since her last whipping. The girl in the other room—her name, she finally found out, is Jaden—had told her if she keeps quiet the beatings will stop. But it's terribly hard not to cry out when you're already exposed skin is whipped upon again and again—mercilessly. Summer's body finally decided it was time to raise the white flag, and she was able to keep herself from screaming. She came to find out that it isn't just the screaming; if they catch her talking they will whip her again. Her back is finally healing, and now she refuses to talk. Even to Jaden who she considers a friend.

Summer pushes the empty tray back through the slot and goes to her corner that she's made into a nest of sorts. She glares at the bucket in the other corner that is her toilet. It reeks and is only cleaned out once a week. She listens for any of the men outside her door and hears no one. But then she hears several male voices echo down the hallway, chilling her blood. Her lips seal automatically.

"It's time," says Jag excitedly to someone. "The buyer is thrilled with her Native American background."

"Those Yanks always have rich tastes," replies Johnny with a chuckle.

Summer's heart skips at their words—they are selling Jaden to someone, and this will be the last time she'll ever see her—or hear her, as it is. She stands and presses her ear to the wall between them, desperately wanting to say something but no words will form. Her body refuses to encounter another beating at the ends of the cutting whip. Her fingers cling to the wall as she listens carefully. Jaden also keeps quiet as they lead her away. Their footsteps grow fainter until she can't hear them anymore.

Summer slides to the floor, her shoulders slumping dejectedly. All of her hope seeps from her pores and slithers away with its tail between its legs. Stupid hope, Summer thinks miserably. Fine, go run and hide you coward.

A phone rings just outside her door, and she startles, clasping her hand over her mouth to stop herself from squeaking. Footsteps pound down the hallway, and then a receiver is picked up. She had no idea that there is a phone just outside her door. If she would have known that the first day she ran for it, she might have been able to call out.

"Hello?" comes Jag's scratchy voice.

There is a moment of silence before he lets out an exasperated sigh. "It's not negotiable. We've kept her long enough, ya know? We could of sold her already for a much higher price." Pause. "I don't care what kind of society yer are. She's in my possession and if you don't up your offer you ain't layin' a single grubby finger on her, understand?"

Summer put her ear to the slit in her door. Is he talking about Jaden?

"Now listen here you righteous— No!" he practically growls into the phone. The sound of it being slammed into the cradle makes her jump away from the door, her breath heavy with fear. She didn't do anything, but the men are known to use beating the slaves as a way of letting their aggression out.

"You can take your money and shove it up your arse!" He kicks the chair she's sat in many times for whippings.

She chances a glance through the slot in her door to see him dialing another number. His greasy fingers stab each button like they have personally offended him. "Jones!" A pause, and Jag smiles. "Ah, yes. I found the perfect girl fer ya."

Oh, no. Summer panics internally. Jaden's going to be sold.

"Of course she's trained, you prat. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Name's Summer." He laughs at something Jones says.

No, I'm going to be sold, she realizes uncomprehendingly.

"She needs to go immediately. You gunna be at the shipyard today?" Another pause. "I'll bring her by after dark. I think that'll be an even trade. Make sure you kick your wenches off the boat before I get there." More laughter. "Cheerio."

Jag hangs up the phone, and Summer backs into her corner as the door opens slowly. Light floods the room, the golden glow so far from angelic she wishes for the darkness again. Her breath catches at the unnatural, greedy look in Jag's black eyes. He runs a hand through his greasy hair to pull it out of his face.

"Time to get cleaned up." He holds the door open and gestures for her to exit. She doesn't hesitate in fear of what will happen if she doesn't comply. They run into a whistling, jolly Johnny, his dark green eyes satisfied with something.

He guides her to a place she's never been before and instructs her to strip down. She shakes, knowing when clothes come off there is usually some sort of punishment involved. Her tiny fingers hook into her black pants, and she pulls them off. Next she removes her shirt. The room is tiled, and she wonders if she will finally be able to take a bath—she hasn't had one since she was kidnapped.

"Stand there and be a good girl," says Johnny with a slightly crazy lilt in his tone. "This'll take just a few minutes."

Summer wraps her arms around herself, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Johnny turns a hose on, and the mocking water splashes against the tile like a waterfall of crystallized droplets beading up and rolling toward her in battle. He holds it up and sprays her with the cold water as she contains her shrieks before they escape and run rampant through the flowing water. She spins around as he commands and shudders through the whole ordeal. After several minutes he turns the hose away and flips a towel toward her. She dries and dresses quickly, impatient to be warm again. Her teeth rattle in her head.

Johnny opens a door and points. "It's warm outside. Go. Your chattering is gettin' on my last nerve!" Outside she finds a cage ready for her, bucket and all.
CHAPTER 12: SOLD

4 years old

Johnny's right—it's invitingly warm outside. It is midsummer, and the sun's rays bear down on Summer until she's no longer cold but sweating. This is the first time she's been outside since her mummy took her to the bistro outside the shipyard. She may only be four years old, but she feels as if she's matured to the age of six. Maybe even to the ancient age of seven. The cage is especially uncomfortable—noticeably meant for large animals and not people. The bucket is at least clean, though there is no comfortable place to sit, so she stands and leans against the bars. She jumps away from them quickly; the bars are so hot from the baking sun that they burn through her clothes and make the healing sores on her back sting with fervor.

With no other comfortable options, she stands in the middle of the cage, her arms folded. She wonders why she is out here—Jaden never mentioned anything about cages outside. The sky is slowly growing pink as the aloof sun slides dispassionately toward the horizon. After two hours of cooking in the aggressive heat, Jag strolls from the building and unlocks her cage. His tall frame casts a shadow across the grass, and in that shadow you can see the outline of what he carries in his left hand. It's the whip, and instinctively Summer flinches away from its offensive leather.

"You stay in line and we won't worry about this," threatens Jag as he pets the whip affectionately. There is no telling how many times she has been whipped with it, let alone all the other people that came through that place. Summer had only heard one other person being whipped during her two week stay at Hell. She recoiled every time the boy shouted, almost like she could feel the leather slicing into her own skin.

Summer nods at Jag, letting him know she understands perfectly what the consequences of disobedience are.

"Good girl. I've got someone who wants to meet ya. His name is Travis Jones—but it'll be Captain Jones, or Master depending on what he wants, to you," explains Jag as they walk in the direction of a car with tinted windows. "We'll have to drive there, though. If you cause me any trouble at all I'll whip you. And if you try to run away I'll shoot you." He points to his pants where the outline of a gun is barely noticeable.

Summer almost gasps but is able to quickly contain the sound with her hand. She's only seen police carry guns. Jag nods to two men she's never seen before as they reach the car.

"Get in," he orders.

She hastily opens the door and slides inside at his command. Jag lowers himself into the driver's seat and starts the car. He quickly flips through radio stations until he finds some grunge music he likes. It's strange for her to see him so relaxed and rocking out to some tunes on the stereo. This makes her hate him even more. He puts the car in gear, and they start down the road.

"There's a comb in the glove box," he barks. "Brush your hair. You gotta at least have brushed hair." He mumbles a curse to Johnny under his breath.

Trepidation crawls up her nerves like a spider, engineering its web of anxiety. I'm being sold, she tells herself, seeing if it sounds more real when she says it inside her head. She doesn't dare say it aloud. So many different emotions latch on and devour as her heart drops and pumps wildly with all the warring emotions inside her.

This may be the last time I ever see Jag, she realizes hopefully. The feeling is short lived because she knows that being locked up at Jag's means the possibility of her mum finding her again. Being sold tonight signifies the end of hope—or it would have if she hadn't already lost it. Her mum, always so patient, kind, and accepting will never be in her life again, and she has to come to terms with it now. Her mum always told her to be a big girl, and now is the time. Regardless of how crestfallen, there's still such a gratifying relief at never seeing Jag's face again it almost puts a smile on her face.

But the longer they drive, the sweatier her palms become. Jag is unconditionally cruel, but what if Captain Jones is more ruthless? She sits as motionless and noiseless as a stone combating the ravages of time and tries to camouflage her mental state, which is about as easy as slaying a fire-breathing dragon in the depths of Hell. Her captor probably sees right through her, down to her jumping heart, tightening muscles, and dancing nerves.

The sun finally fades, and the moonless night's sky is full of illuminated clouds from the city lights below. Jag parks the car outside a port where fleets of ships are docked. Summer's nerves are so stressed, strained so tight, she's not sure if she can move.

Jag circles around the car and opens the door. His beady black eyes stare holes in her forehead as if they are laser beams, and a frown dominates his face, clearly annoyed.

"I'm not here to service you." He places his hand on his gun. "Get out of the car and stay ahead of me. I'll tell you where to go and if you don't listen and obey . . ." He taps his fingers lovingly over the gun.

Summer is so quick to get out of the car at his threat that she's faint for a few moments and sees stars. She stumbles forward as she tries to recover her full vision. Being starved is undoubtedly damaging her body as she becomes increasingly weaker daily.

The ships tower over them like pillars of a vast city. When he demands that she stops before a huge vessel, the panic kicks in with such absolute ferocity that it's like her breath is being stolen right out of her lungs by some soul-sucking creature. Her heart skips a beat; it's as if the entire two weeks are finally catching up to her. Tears leak out in a torrent, though she stays completely silent, weathering the storm better than any four year old should be able to.

A figure steps from the shadows like he's part of the night. Everything about him is sinister—his eyes, hair, and clothes. His scruffy beard canvases the majority of his face, and his cheeks are pitted with scars like craters on the moon. His exposed arms have faded tattoos and are also scarred with the sun and other marks that she couldn't even begin to guess the source. The man grins widely at Jag, and she assumes this is the Captain.

"You've trained her well, I see. Not a single peep," he says in a smooth voice that doesn't seem right with his outer appearance. He has an accent she can't place.

"We need to talk." Jag points a little ways away. "You stay right there," he adds to Summer. "If I see you even take a single step remember what I promised." His eyebrows lift in challenge.

Summer nods and wipes the tears away hastily. She's embarrassed that he saw her cry. The two men step away from her and into the shadows. She can't hear their words, but she can tell it's a heated conversation. She wishes she could at least see their facial expressions to gauge their emotions, but it's useless in the dark. Suddenly, the Captain laughs and claps Jag on his lanky shoulder, nearly knocking him over.

They shake hands, and Jag walks deeper into the shadows until she can't see him anymore. The Captain glances in her direction and comes over. He seems genuinely pleased, his dark eyes light with humor. "Jag told you who I was?" he asks.

She nods, uncertain of what his mood might mean. To her it is ambiguous at best.

"Good. You can call me Captain Travis or Captain Jones. I'll answer to either." He pauses as if he's waiting for her to give her name. She remains silent. "I was told your name's Summer," he continues, unperturbed. "You won't have to see Jag ever again, but you'll be stuck with my ugly face for a while." He laughs at his own joke, and she still doesn't speak.

Captain Jones gestures in the direction of a massive ship and explains, "This is the Cosmos, my ship and your new home. Tonight I'll show you to your quarters, and tomorrow morning we'll start with your training." He grins and walks away. When she doesn't move he calls out, "Follow!"

Summer swiftly catches up to him as he boards the Cosmos. In the dark she can't make out much except the ship is huge. Her eyes grow wide as she takes it all in—the thing is larger than several houses combined.

The Captain chuckles at her expression when he checks to make sure she's still behind him. "You sure are well behaved fer a four year old. I think we'll get along great here. You're so quiet—it's a nice change from my ex-wife." He laughs at himself again and motions for her to follow.

They enter through a massive metal door and descend several stairs into the depths of the ship. The grey, aluminum walls are closer together than any normal hallways, and it feels like they are closing in on her. She folds her arms around her torso and tries not to shake at the constricted sensation. He halts so abruptly that she almost runs into him. He pushes open a smaller version of the door to the stairs, and it squeals like a piglet.

"Ah, piss on it. Needs oil. Anyway, this is yer room. As long as you behave things will run smoothly. I won't expect you to be perfect immediately, but I won't hesitate to punish you if you continue to make mistakes as time goes on." His eyes convey it isn't an idle threat.

She trembles at the warning, knowing it won't be five minutes in the corner. No, it'll be a whiplashing and then all night in the corner licking her wounds. She steps past the threshold and advances into the shadows of the unknown. There are no words she can say to him as he closes the big metal door and leaves her in the blinding dark. It's practically a relief to be alone again.

Welcome home, she thinks gloomily. Dispirited, she understands what she must do to survive. Silence is the only way to preserve. I will never talk again, she promises herself.
CHAPTER 13: OUTLANDERS

16 years old

Jaden and Summer lie close to the dulling fire, their bellies full from the rabbit and noodles. The lacery sauce ended up being a tangy flavor with a hint of oregano and spicy pepper. Jaden is already asleep, but Summer is wide awake and being observant like always. Eyes stay closed as she listens into the conversations of the people around her and learns more and more about this strange world they have stumbled upon.

"What game are you playing?" whispers Max vehemently to Gage. "Just because you were trained to be a Lifer, doesn't mean you know everything about the Canadian League."

"Your opinion doesn't matter, Everfast," Gage says dryly. "I'm still in charge, and we'll contact headquarters tomorrow for a lift for the girls. Then you can go on your merry way and find more Outlanders."

"And what are you going to do?"

"Cameron and I will go with them in the hovercraft," he replies quietly.

"You're a soldier, not a nurse. Leave that up to Cameron," snarls Max.

"Enough," Bruce cuts in. "You're going to wake them."

"She's obviously grown attached to Gage," retorts Cameron quietly. "For the best care she should not be placed in the path of more psychological damage. That means Jaden stays with her at the hospital, and Gage stands guard at the door—best case scenario. Both of these girls have been tortured and enslaved most of their lives and all you two can think about is sending them to the camps. Did they scoop out your heart when they placed the shiny badge there?"

"They're Outlanders," states Max disapprovingly.

"They're human beings—just like you and me," argues Gage.

"These are the people from the famous exodus that started World War Three! We always wondered where those millions of people went—everyone blamed—" Max snaps his fingers like he's trying to find the name. "Ah, I forget the name of the organization. And then they pointed their fingers at the U.S." He laughs quietly without humor. "Now we know where they all went, eh? Into the future!"

"The Outlanders already claimed the lives of several citizens," adds Paige. "They come here with their bad attitudes and primitive weapons. President Beaumont is right to capture and hold the Outlanders until we integrate them into our society."

Cameron snorts. "Join our society? You realize this is just a ploy, right? Once the majority is gathered together, the President will make sure they're extinct. Then he'll send the League out to finish the rest of them off. It's disgusting."

Summer begins to sweat at Cameron's words, and her heart knocks against her chest. She's so frozen and afraid to move she wonders if she can fake dead so they'll leave her. She wishes to wake Jaden, but is afraid they'll see her move.

"These girls are victims of the old ways," states Gage firmly. "They aren't the enemy."

"We've seen their trickery," barks Max loudly and is shushed immediately.

"Those scars are real—some of them newer, some of them years old. This is obviously not some story," disputes Cameron. "And Summer's starvation is blatant. They aren't a threat!"

"Shut up, White Hat. You aren't even a doctor yet," mutters Paige. Max laughs.

Summer can taste the tension in the air it's so thick.

"You're just jealous that you've wasted your life training to be an actress when you know they won't let you on screen with your hideous face," Cameron snaps back bitingly.

There's a scuffle, and whispers break out.

"Stop it!"

"Grow up."

"You're going to wake them!"

"You're just a splash head!" sneers Cameron.

"And you're a goldhole!" insults Paige.

There's a gasp before silence spreads like a menacing gas, and Summer wonders what a "goldhole" is.

"You did not just say that?" Cameron finally says, hurt.

"I've heard the rumors. Spreading your legs didn't help you, did it?" The sound of a slap echoes in the night air, and Summer shudders at the sound.

"I guess what's between isn't as golden as you believe," continues Paige. "Because you were still called to duty with the League."

"Cameron—no!" shouts Gage, the argument escalating.

There's no mistaking the sounds of a fight exploding only twenty feet away from Summer's head. No longer frozen, she shakes Jaden awake, and then points to the full-blown fight. Jaden's brown eyes go wide at the sight, and Summer begs with her eyes for them to run. She's scared, her heart beating like a snare, her breath quick with anxiety, and her body phantom aching from her mental scars of being beaten. Faster than she thought Jaden could move, she's yanked to her feet.

They take off down the beach, Summer's body protesting with the exertion. Jaden's arm wraps securely around her waist as she practically drags her into the trees. Regardless of the excruciating pain, she's completely unrepentant about eavesdropping on their conversation.

Shouts erupt down the beach, and she hears them yelling, "They got away!"

Jaden pulls her into a thickly vegetated area and pushes her into the thickest section, following behind. They crouch there, breaths thick with fear.

"If they come close, don't try to run. Hopefully they'll think we've gone farther than this," Jaden whispers right into Summer's ear. "Also, shut your mouth so they can't hear you breathe if they are close." Summer nods once and holds completely still, her blood rushing through her veins and breath rattling.

"They can't have gone that far," says Max to someone.

"Not if Jaden had to carry Summer," Paige adds with a laugh. "Everyone, turn your heat vision on."

"Shit," Jaden breaths.

Summer remembers reading something about heat vision one time—means even in the dark they'll be able to find them just by their body heat. The water! she wants to shout, but knows she won't.

Footsteps are coming in their direction and they both stiffen, their palms sweaty as they hold hands.

"Summer? Jaden? It's Gage . . . I won't hurt you." His voice is a mere whisper in the darkness. "I know you're there."

In the distance someone shouts, "Found them!"

"Please, come with me," Gage insists quietly. "I'll protect you, I promise."

She can't help but believe him—he's defended them every step of the way. Suddenly his hand thrusts between the brush, and he holds it out for her to take. She places her hand in his hesitantly.

There's a scream and loud chuckling from far away. She jerks her hand away, but Gage grabs hold before she can.

"I think that possum about took your fingers off," Bruce roars joyously. Another howl of laughter is followed by an angry growl.

"Trust me," Gage says to the girls.

Jaden helps push Summer through the brush while Gage pulls her forward. She stumbles right into his chest, and he wraps an arm around her automatically. She steps away hastily as he reaches to help Jaden.

"Follow me," he says and starts to walk away.

They don't move, unsure what to do. Plus, she is out of breath, aching all over, and is using all of her energy just to stand again. The last sprint took everything out of her.

"Do you want to go?" Jaden whispers in her hear. She nods.

Gage realizes they aren't moving and turns. "What's wrong?" he murmurs.

"She can barely stand," explains Jaden inaudibly.

He makes his way back, picks Summer up, and cradles her in his arms. She encircles his neck for support and feels a backpack's straps around his shoulders. "Right pocket there's an external pair of heat vision glasses," he tells Jaden who then reaches for them. "Follow closely behind me."

They begin to move swiftly through the trees, and Jaden pops up next to him. "Why are you helping us?" Her voice is barely audible.

"It's not right . . . I'll explain later."

"Right. Of course." Jaden falls behind him as the area grows dense with underbrush.

Branches scratch Summer's face and drag along her skin with their spindly tendrils. She unhooks her arms from his neck and pulls them into her body to protect herself. Gage's breath is heavy with exertion and warm in her hair. His nose touches her head, and she hears him whisper, "I'm sorry," before he pulls away. They step into an opening that glows under the moon and stars. It's sandy like the desert and standing only fifty feet away is the outline of a person.

"Cameron," Gage greets the silhouette.

"What's going on?" Jaden asks impatiently.

"Not now," he tells her. "We still need to find a place to hide."

"I've lost them, but we need to hurry," Cameron says hastily. "I've called for a transport, but all I receive is static in return. I tried to contact my family to find out what's happening, but the same thing happens. Did you try?"

"Yes, same result."

"Good. At least we know they are out of contact too. This will give us an advantage. Let's seek cover before they figure out what's going on." She gestures under the night sky for them to follow. "There's a waterfall only half a mile away, and according to my map there's a cave entrance behind it."

"Yes, I see it too," he says. "It's perfect—it'll conceal our body heat."

Summer places a hand over his heart, and he glances down in curiosity. Even in the darkness his eyes entrap her. He's not paying attention to where he's walking as he gazes into her eyes. His arms squeeze her closer to him. "It's going to be all right. I promise." What she really wanted to know is how he sees this waterfall.

She lets out a long breath and relaxes her head against his chest, listening to his hammering heart. She's amazed by his heart, certainly, but more than anything she's captivated by his selflessness. In her world this is unheard of. She can't help but reach out to him and want to be a part of his life. A person like him is rare—latching on is natural. And if it's not, she doesn't care.

Her mind wanders to Landon. Maybe he has drifted somewhere else and isn't being threatened with imprisonment. It's all she can hope for. Or maybe, just maybe, Gage's actions are the universe's way of making up for taking Landon away from her. All she can do is speculate.
CHAPTER 14: WATERFALL

16 years old

The rumble of the waterfall is loud, even from far away. As they come into view of the wild beast, Summer wonders how they'll cross the raging waters without floating down stream. She can't swim and doesn't know how to convey this to anyone. Regardless, even in the dark, the waterfall is beautiful with its flowing water cascading down, mist rising into the air. She can see a moonbow reach high into the water vapors. It's more stunning here than when she sees it over the ocean. There is just something mesmerizing about it.

They stop before the rampant waters; Gage sets her down and keeps an arm around her for support. She begins to tremble, her eyes are as wide as quarters, and the rapids reflect in her shining eyes. Cameron approaches the water, wades in a foot, and pulls out a device that clicks and draws a graph on the screen as she dips part of it into the water.

"Burr! This water's cold—the spring feeding it isn't far off." Cameron motions at the top of the waterfall.

This only makes Summer's shaking more violent, and Gage glances sideways at her. "What's wrong?" He looks at Jaden who shrugs and then back to her. Her eyes jump from the water to Gage in hopes he understands. This only confuses him, and he offers his palm to her. She begins to glide her finger across his palm and writes, "I can't swim." Apostrophe and all.

"You can't swim?" he immediately questions, and his eyebrows draw together.

"Really?" Jaden asks with a chuckle. "You lived on a ship!"

It astonishes Summer that he comprehends this form of communication instantly. She tried it with Landon once, and he thought she was writing "I like tea" instead of "It's a key." An hour later showed no results, so notebooks were stashed all over the ship just in case she needed them. This only makes her miss Landon even more.

She grips Gage's hand more firmly and does it all over again, this time trying out a longer sentence. "They never let me leave the boat."

"So this is your first time on land since . . . ?" He doesn't finish the question.

She taps once into his palm.

"Oh, wow. There's so much you haven't seen." His eyes show amazement and opportunity.

Cameron exits the water and tucks the device she was using into her complicated belt. "There's plenty of iron under the stream."

"There won't be any swimming," Gage explains to Summer.

Blank stares greet his words, and he points to Cameron who holds out two pieces of metal in each palm. "Activate," she commands, and the metal unfolds until each are several times bigger. She drops them to the ground, steps on them, and her feet cover them perfectly. "Fasten." Tiny hooks expand out the sides and dig into her boots. It looks just like the implants in their ears, just on a larger scale. "Mobilize," she commands, and then she lifts into the air. "Steady."

Jaden and Summer gape at her as she floats a foot off the ground.

"Please tell me you have extra?" Jaden squeals with delight.

"I'm sorry," Cameron answers with a frown. "They are made specifically for our weight range, body type, and our center of gravity. We'll have to be especially careful when we go across the water with each of you in tow."

"Damn, there go my fantasies." Jaden snaps her fingers disappointingly.

Summer giggles. All eyes swivel in her direction; eyebrows raise, mouths drop open, and eyes go wide. She covers her mouth and practically runs backwards out of Gage's grasp. She trips on something, flies backward, and falls roughly on the ground. Her breath leaves her when her back smacks a tree trunk, and then her head slams into it forcefully. Water trickles down her neck. Her head immediately begins to pound. This dazes her for a second, but she still knows she made a mistake, and now she fears the consequences. The only person she has ever audibly laughed around is Landon—another slave. But these people aren't slaves. They make it so easy to forget.

Gage rushes over, and in the dark she can't see the expression on his face. Is it anger? She automatically throws her hands up to protect herself from any blows—even though this could also mean punishment. Her legs curl to her chest to absorb any impacts to her chest and stomach. Part of her wants to trust him completely, but she doesn't know him. This could all be a ploy to convince them not to run away. Maybe under the waterfall is a tunnel to these Outlander camps.

When his footsteps abruptly cut off, it only makes her quiver more forcefully. "I . . ." he trails off.

"Maybe I should . . . ?" Jaden offers and then says, "Okay."

The waterfall's endless stream of water almost conceals the sound of Gage's footsteps as he carefully moves forward and crouches in front of her. She sees his knees under her arms. He gently touches her raised arm, and she jerks away, expecting where he touched to start hurting. But it doesn't.

"Hey," he says softly. "I won't hurt you. Ever."

She wants to believe him so fiercely—she drops her arms and meets his eyes guardedly. In the background she hears, "Oh, that's just sublime." It's Cameron, and her voice is disgusted. "Why don't you act that way?"

"Because she was treated differently and had a different master than I did," Jaden replies.

Gage reaches forward again. Summer flinches, and the sore spot on the back of her head hits the tree, which makes her face convulse in pain. It causes her to forget the man in front of her as her hand scrambles to the back of her head and gently holds the sore spot. When she pulls her hand away, she notices it's coated with blood, almost black in the night.

"Cameron," he shouts. "Summer's hurt."

It's not water that flows around her neck and under her clothes—it's blood. Cameron rushes over to them while Gage removes his pack. It matches their green and black uniforms. "It's her head," he explains quickly. There isn't anything recognizable as Cameron pulls out supplies. Finally, she opens a bag and pulls free another smaller bag. The label is unreadable in the moonlight.

"We aren't going to hurt you, Summer," Cameron promises. "We have to see your head so we can patch it up. Once we are on the other side of the waterfall we'll do a quick scan to make sure there is no internal damage."

Gage holds out his palm, and she taps once into it. "Thank you," he whispers. She grabs a hold, and his fingers wrap around her small hand. He gathers her awkwardly into his arms when she scoots forward. Every muscle in her body strains at the contact for a few seconds, and then she finally relaxes when it's apparent he isn't going to punish her for giggling aloud, or holding her arms up in protest. He doesn't let go as he holds her closely to his warm body and rubs her back gently. The butterflies are back, and she wishes her body would just decide how it really feels already.

Cameron delicately moves her dirty blonde hair away from the wound and pours something over it. It stings, and her teeth grit to stop a cry from escaping. But then the pounding in her head stops, and the pain fades. Then she begins to feel overly tired and her eyes droop. She places her forehead on his shoulder and physically and mentally calms.

"It's probably a little too much for her weight, but the tranquil side-effect won't hurt," Cameron explains.

Whatever she did to Summer, she can't find a reason to care about it. She reaches for Gage's palm, and he immediately complies. "Don't hurt Jaden" is what she writes before sleep consumes her.
CHAPTER 15: SPLASHY

16 years old

It's the abrupt burst of frigid water that wakes Summer as they glide under the waterfall. There's an arm that binds her tightly around her waist, and a firm hand at the back of her neck. Her feet dangle off the ground.

"Retire," Gage says, and they drop to the ground. A golden light bathes the cave, and the waterfall echoes off the rocks. He carefully removes his hand from her neck, and she looks up at his eyes, his blonde hair dripping onto her face. "You're awake." He smiles.

She returns the smile, her body still calmly drifting in some far off ocean. But then she begins to shiver from the cold water and the even colder cave air. It's like a different planet on the other side. He removes the jacket he had placed around her before they went under the waterfall with one hand. He keeps his one arm steady about her waist, which is good because she probably couldn't stand. The jacket drops to the ground. There's a hood, but she guesses the water was too violent and ripped it off because her hair drips water down her back, which is also soaked.

"How's your head feeling?" he asks and offers his palm to her like it's so normal.

"Unattached," she writes in his palm.

"That good, eh?" He laughs, and she silently joins him. But his laughter dies away and their closeness is unmistakable—spotlighted, even. "I . . . um," he stutters.

"The scanner is ready," Cameron announces behind her.

He bends down and takes her into his arms. This is becoming a habit, she thinks wryly—she hates and likes it all at the same time. Everything about this man makes her feel conflicted. He situates her on a sleeping bag that Cameron has laid out.

"Lie down on your side, facing away from me," Cameron commands with a genuine smile.

She does as she's told, and Gage walks out of view. She can hear him and Jaden conversing, but their voices are too low to hear anything due to the waterfall. She wonders if they are talking about her.

"Okay, Summer. Hold perfectly still—this will be painless." There's a buzzing in her ear as Cameron moves some device over her head. The sound is suddenly cut off. "Well, you didn't crack your skull, and there doesn't appear to be any swelling in your brain.The Jackerion I fused the cut with should hold for a couple of days, but it's only temporary. If it doesn't heal in a few days, we'll have to try something more permanent."

Summer turns over and stares into Cameron's brown eyes with her black hair framing her face. There's a silence between them, but she wants to ask a question. She sits up and reaches for Cameron's palm to see if she can easily understand her like Gage can, but after two failed attempts it's obvious she can't. Cameron calls for Gage.

"She's trying to tell me something, but I don't understand." She sighs.

"What is it?" he asks Summer, sits down next to her, and holds out his palm.

Eager, she hauls his palm into her lap and quickly writes, "What is Jackerion? Is it what makes me funny inside?"

Jaden drags over a sleeping bag and drops it across from them. Jaden and Cameron sit down and begin to watch the two of them, like they're a movie.

"Well, Jackerion is a substance that seals wounds, contains a ridiculous amount of antibiotics, and is an instant pain reliever. It can sometimes be too much when the person is underweight and can make them sleepy or feel fuzzy." His too-green eyes glance sideways at her with humor. "It was named after the inventor, Jack. Actually, he named it." He pauses. "Now can I ask a question?"

She gives a quick tap into his palm.

He's reluctant for a second, but finally asks, "Why did you react that way back there." His head automatically tilts toward the waterfall.

Her palm rubs against his for a second as she thinks of how to answer. She writes, "I laughed. Everyone stared at me in shock like I did something wrong. I—" She stops and contemplates how to word it. "Many of my scars are from doing things like that."

He doesn't respond, and the waterfall's echoing roar fills the silence, seemingly growing in volume. Her heart starts to pick up its pace, even though the drugs in her system tell her to relax. She quickly begins to write into his palm again, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have." He shakes his head swiftly, and the movement causes her to flinch away. It's just so automatic for her.

"Please don't," he says softly. "I'm just having a hard time digesting the fact you went through all of that, so scared to speak or make a single sound. Do you ever . . . speak, that is?"

Two taps.

"Never?"

"Never," she writes in his palm, pauses and adds, "Will you tell us about the future?" She wants to change the subject; it's tiring to always be the focus.

"After the several World Wars, and our takeover of the U.S., scientists were brought in from all over the globe to prevent our economy from being so dependent on oil. Now ninety percent of our energy comes from solar power and fusion technology," he explains, and Summer feels lost.

"Skip the boring stuff and focus on the cool toys!" Jaden exclaims and pokes Cameron's belt with all its gadgets. "I mean, how awesome are TVs now?"

Cameron and Gage exchange an amused look.

"We don't have TV anymore," Cameron explains, and Summer internally laughs at how Captain Travis would have a fit if he could no longer pirate big screens leaving Japan via freighters.

"What?" Jaden shouts, her face falling in disappointment. "That's so lame!"

"We have something much cooler now," she continues with a smirk, removes something from her pocket, and sets it on the ground. A button is pressed, and a movie of some kind plays—except you can walk all the way around it. It's like everything's happening in the room.

"Freakin' cool!" Jaden bellows and jumps to her feet, circling the holograph. "And he's hot!" Reaching out, her hand goes right through the guy.

"Yeah," Carmon agrees. "That's Maddox. He's very famous in the Federation."

"But his acting is pretty splashy," Gage adds playfully.

"That's the word that one girl was using—Paige? What does it mean?" Jaden wonders as she sits again.

"It means excrement," Cameron clarifies with a chuckle. She shuts the device down, and the hologram disappears. "I think it's time we all get some sleep, though. Tomorrow I'm bringing you two into the hospital."

Before Gage can leave Summer's grasp, she writes in his hand quickly, "I want to know more about you." She pauses before writing, "So I can feel more comfortable." She flushes with embarrassment and slight anxiety. Did she go too far?

He nods once, a smile playing at his lips. "Can you two give us a minute?"

"Sure," Cameron allows. "I still need to do an exam on Jaden, anyway."

They stand, stride to the far end of the cave's large cavern, and turn a corner, and the light mysteriously follows them. How they do that will have to go on the Things to Ask About Later list.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know," Gage says and scoots so they face each other. "But, you have to promise me you'll quit flinching every time I move. I'm not your master, I've never had a slave before, and I have never hit a female. I'm not going to start now."

"I'll try," she writes uncertainly.

He sighs. "I'll take it, but no more incidents like outside. Now, about me." He smirks. "I'm eighteen; I've been training to be in the Canadian League since I was eight. Everyone is required to join for five years when they turn seventeen, but only some are Lifers. Because of my training, I'm automatically the commanding officer for those who aren't Lifers." He pauses, and then grumbles under his breath, "I don't even like the government, yet I'm supposed to fight for them."

She locks away the information, making a special note that he doesn't like authority, and then writes, "I'm glad you were the one to find us."

"Me too," he agrees and squeezes her hand.

"What about family?" she writes.

"No siblings. I haven't seen my parents in two years. When I went away to do more extensive training, they left to go be hippies in a village in the Bahamas. Funny thing is—they were the ones who choose my career path, and now they preach peace and love, just like people used to do during the Vietnam War. They even rock out to John Lennon." Though his voice conveys how upset he is by their abandonment, he smiles when talking about them. Her eyes are trained on every facial expression, trying to read him. He cocks his head to the side in question.

"Do faeries exist?" she writes, being completely serious. It's time to put the question to rest.

He bursts into laughter, and his head flings back. "No. No faeries."

She frowns in disappointment that they aren't real. She wants to question him further—it can't be true. There must be faeries.

"Listen, Summer." He turns serious immediately, changing her favorite subject. "I'm not quite sure how to act around you. I've never met anyone like you before, and I don't want to overstep my bounds." He takes both of her hands between his so quickly that she almost flinches, but stops herself.

He's not going to hurt me, she tells herself. Breathe, stay calm. The thing is—she's surprisingly calm with him holding her hands. She's not sure how long this feeling will last; it's probably the drugs.

"If I ever do anything you're uncomfortable with, please tell me somehow. It's okay to say no to me; I won't punish you for it." He takes a deep breath. "I'm afraid I'll never see you again after tomorrow, and I don't want that to be the case. Would you be opposed to me visiting you in the hospital?" He looks hopeful.

Those same butterflies tingle and flutter their way through her stomach, and her heart picks up speed. She pulls a hand free from his and gently strokes his cheek that's a little rough from not shaving. Then she does something unpredictable—she grasps his neck, draws him down to her, and softly kisses his cheek. She pauses a few inches away from his face, her breath heavy, and carefully lets go. She wants to kiss his lips, too, but she hasn't had the chance to brush her teeth since before the ship blew up. She should be panicking over her actions, but the drugs make her calm and carefree almost.

Gage's cheeks flame red as his hypnotic green eyes catch hers, burning with intensity. "Is that a yes?" he breathes.

She holds his palm with care and writes, "I'd be offended if you didn't visit." They both share a private smile, and Summer's body is slowly learning to relax in his presence.

"I'll be there every day," he promises. Earlier today she would have considered that a threat—now she looks forward to it.

Throwing her arms around his neck, she squeezes with all the strength she can muster. He reciprocates, but is much gentler as he encircles her waist. With her head on his shoulder, she mouths "thank you" over and over again. This is the first time she's felt remotely safe since she lost Landon, but how long will it last?
CHAPTER 16: DIGNITY

10 years old

Respect is one of those things some of the crew members never learned while growing up. Summer knows that the crew members don't have to express or show her any respect. Her place is to serve the ship and the people aboard. She's a slave, and at any moment the Captain could decide to make her do ungodly, unspeakable acts. She's been on the Cosmos for six years—she can handle a crude remark, an overly dirty room, or even a drink dumped at her feet. The one thing she refuses to lose, though, is her dignity. That's when she'll fight. So far she hasn't run into any problems that could not be solved. Until today.

The Captain tells Summer she's on bunker duty. She hates this more than most chores—besides cleaning their toilets. She most definitely will always keep that at the top of her Least Favorite Things to Clean list. The thing with cleaning the crew's personal area is that it's their personal area. This is a rare chore, but she understands immediately why this task has been assigned when she steps into the first room. She isn't quite sure where the laundry-carpet ends and the mold infestation begins. It's really, truly horrific. Like the laundry is as stiff as an over-starched shirt kind of bad. With the most heavy-duty gloves she can find protecting her hands, she reaches down and picks up what looks to be a shirt with spilled soup on it, though who knows what it really is. It's so awful she's sure it must be a sin to live like this, or at least unsanitary. Her nose scrunches up at the rotting smell. She dumps it into a clothes basket and turns her head away so she can breathe—not fresh air, but less offensive odors.

To her chagrin, the first room is the cleanest. Or the least vile—there is nothing clean about any of the rooms. Hours pass, and her cleaning supplies dwindle faster than the revolting stuff she scrubs at. At this rate she will need to have the Captain restock her supplies and use half of them on herself to remove the grime. She's a slave and lives in a cleaner environment than the crew members. Maybe they liked living this way? Who knows?

When the sun begins to set, she knows that she must shower and go to the kitchen to make dinner. It's always at nine in the evening, and she hasn't been late putting food on the table since she had food poisoning several years back. The whole crew was sick so they didn't care—or notice, really—that she was also incapacitated.

Tired, disgusting, and ready to take a scalding shower, Summer ambles down the hallway like an old woman. Her muscles ache with each step. She truly does hate to clean the crew's quarters—a hate as pure and toxic as the air she'd been breathing in for the past several hours. Feet away from her room she notices the door is slightly ajar, and the light is on. That's strange, she thinks as she takes a few more steps. Cautiously, she palms the door and pushes until it gradually reveals what she can only assume is the aftermath of a hurricane. She has few possessions and treats each of them with gentle care. Now they are scattered across the room with careless abandon.

You can handle this, she tells herself unconvincingly. A few tentative steps into the room she finally sees the one thing that would break her. Her journal is crumpled, torn, and in slightly damp pieces. Her eyes well up with tears as she falls to her knees and frantically tries to put the pieces back together. Her journal is her one treasured possession. The one physical thing she actually cares about and can feel in the palms of her hands is gone. The journal that holds all of her memories from her childhood is now in shambles. Held the memories, she corrects mentally. Her dignity feels shredded just like the pages of her journal. She might not be able to write, but she drew what little she could, improving upon them as she aged.

Summer remembers another slave on the ship sitting with her for hours as she told her childhood memories in picture format. Her name was Nina, and she helped to improve her skill with a pencil since Summer wouldn't speak. Nina always promised she would teach her how to read and write one day, but was sold to another ship before she had the chance. Summer always told herself that she would one day learn so she could write the stories that went along with the pictures in her journal. But now it's all gone . . . all the words meaningless in their scattered pages.

Who would come in here and go out of their way to destroy this? she frantically thinks. Which crew member would care enough to do this?

She kicks the bucket of cleaning supplies and heatedly stomps from her room, journal in hand, down the hallway, mentally picturing each of their faces under her feet. She does not run into anyone, which is good because she actually feels like she can have words—many unkind, derogatory, cruel words for the wanker who did this! She arrives in the kitchen and paces between the fridge and stove, listing every word she has ever wanted to say to the crew members. But as she stalks from one side of the kitchen to the other she can't convince herself to tell them off. The memories of her time under Jag's roof are still so raw and real that she automatically reaches under her shirt to her back and let's her fingers feel the scars there. It's the only thing that keeps her from exploding. She perches at the end of a chair at the prep table and stews like sauerkraut, probably smelling even worse.

Her breathing is still heavy with her burning rage so she tries to control it first. Her journal smacks onto the metal prep table right before her elbows slam onto it with a clang, which only makes her vibrate. Even more infuriated, she bows over to fist her hands in her blonde hair. She wants to scream, curse, and yell. Nothing comes from her throat except a tiny hiccup. Pathetic, she thinks miserably. Several incensed minutes pass before she is able to calm herself down. Kind of. Her sapphire, red-tinted eyes suddenly focus on something that's been sitting in the pantry and only collecting dust. As a joke, one of the crew, Aaron, brought aboard these insanely, and quite violently, hot peppers from China. A grin slowly creeps up her lips as an idea forms in the shape of a silhouette of a huge pepper.

There is something about being infuriated that makes you forget the consequences of your actions, luring you to commit to and conquer in blinding revenge. Summer had time to cool down, but all during her nightly kitchen duties her fury only simmers as she makes sure to dump every last fiercely hot pepper into every last food dish. She dices, minces, crushes, squeezes, and peels every single pepper. Nothing goes to waste. She remembers back when Aaron offered a pepper to Dale, another crew member. Dale took one bite and sprinted to the kitchen to chug down half a gallon of milk before he became violently sick inside the sink (hence them being violently hot peppers). She hopes it's worse tonight, that they eat several bites before they realize how incredibly hot their food is. To disguise why it might be so spicy, she makes fajitas.

Aaron comes into the kitchen before Summer serves dinner. She seizes his arm (and she never touches the crew members) and yanks him away from listening ears—not that she is going to say anything, but he might. Aaron towers over her, but he's always the nicest and most considerate to her. He even offers to help sometimes.

He rubs at his blue eyes for a second before he asks, "What's going on?"

Summer bites her lip, trying to suppress a smirk.

Aaron chuckles at her expression, undoubtedly curious now. He runs his hand through his bright red hair and looks around conspiratorial. "I don't see anyone, you can tell me." He looks apologetic for a second. "Sorry, you can show me."

She points to a tiny skillet still on the stove and gives a thumbs up.

He nods patiently. "Ohkay. Food's good tonight?"

A smile over takes her as she pulls the empty container of peppers from behind her back. She walks over to the larger skillet, makes a dumping motion with the container, and then does a thumbs down.

Aaron raises his eyebrows at her, his freckle covered face creasing as he grins widely at her. "This one is safe?" He points to the small skillet.

She nods frantically, her smile the widest he has ever seen it.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he double checks.

She nods again, even more vigorous. The thought of revenge is so sweet and delectable on her tongue that she wishes she would have thought of doing something like this sooner.

He shrugs and chuckles as he helps her bring food out to the table. There are a few new crew members Summer doesn't really know, and then the same bunch as usual: Captain, Dale, Peter, and Phil.

After they all have food on their plates, she rushes into the kitchen and peeks through the small round window. They all begin to shovel their food like the pigs they obviously are. A few of them freeze, a couple of them take another bite, wipe their sweaty forehead, and down their beers. Then the coughing starts, and she's so overzealous with triumph at her pay back—dancing, spinning, smiling—that she doesn't realize when they all turn and gawk at her.

Uh-oh, she thinks and backs away from the door and snatches her tattered journal from the prep table. The door bangs open as the crew members file in so quickly it's like a freshwater stream colliding with the salty ocean water. Her eyes grow wide as she takes in their fuming, crimson faces, and then she takes off down the hallway at a full run. Feeling is the only thing she can think about. The pounding of feet echo behind her but she's smaller and faster.

Her mind frantically thinks of what to do next—she obviously didn't plan this far ahead. She jumps over equipment in the hallways, slides across a wet spot, hits a wall, and turns down another corridor. The crew is still behind her, their shouts are full of hot fury, some of them still choking from the peppers. A door in front of her suddenly opens, and she almost runs right into it. She comes to a screeching halt as the door shuts, and a crew member she's never seen before looks down at her, puzzled.

"G't her!" someone shouts.

Her eyes widen before she ducks under the man's arm and rushes away. Pieces of her journal flutter in her wake. More stairs lead down to a short hallway, and at the end, to the most important part of the ship. She skids into the loud room and right into another crew member. He grips her upper arms and glares down at her until he sees the look in her crazed, sapphire eyes.

"Whatchu want g'rl?" he asks.

She doesn't know what do, but her mind's wheels are turning over and over. She points outside the door and flails her arms around to try to convince him there's some kind of emergency she needs him for.

"Now?" He's irritated at this.

She nods with great exaggeration.

"Fine," he growls out and stomps away just as the crew in pursuit hit the bottom of the stairs.

"G't her!" they shout at him just as she slams the door in their faces and locks it behind her. Now she's trapped.

What was I thinking? She stares around her, horrified at her actions. She can only imagine the kind of punishment she will have to endure because of this.

Fists bang without abandon on the other side of the door, hardly discernable through the rumble of the engines. She glances over her shoulder and see's Captain Travis's face through the tiny window in the door. He barks something to his crew, though she can't hear but the pounding ceases.

"Summer?" She can't hear, can only see the Captain's mouth move.

Well, if I'm going to be punished, might as well get everything I can out of this little rebellion, she thinks smugly and then sticks her tongue out at the Captain.

His bushy, black eyebrows raise, and she can swear through his beard he is smiling at her. She's not sure if that's a good sign, or a really, really horrifying one. She still remembers the smirk Johnny would get right before he whipped her, and shudders. How long can she last in this room without food or water? She doesn't know, but has a feeling she's going to find out.

She turns her back to him and takes in the massive mounds of equipment and engines. The place reeks of oil and gasoline. She has no idea what any of it does, except that it makes the ship run. A blinding idea comes to her, so fast and quick it's like a magic carpet lifts her into the air, making her stomach jump. She approaches what looks like a control station. She lays the journal down, all morbid and pathetic looking, on a clear spot. It taunts her with its torn pages and ripped binding saying, "Are you going to do something about this or not?" The blotted ink on the pages sticking out makes it look weepy even. Her journal is her only friend. This only makes her more determined as her fingers wiggle above the buttons and levers on the control panel. She wonders what will happen if she just starts randomly pressing buttons and pulling levers. Will she have control of the ship, and ultimately the crew on it? They'll eventually find a way to break in, won't they?

She chances a peek at the door's window and sees the Captain's face drain of color as if he's been uncorked and is being emptied. He wildly gestures for her to stop, but she wants to use this as leverage so she won't be punished. Her fingers move closer and closer to the buttons, and she can see the panic rise in the Captain as he flounders with the door. He turns and shouts something, but the words dissolve into the roaring of the engine.

The writing on the control panel doesn't mean anything to her. For all she knows the one button she presses might blow up the whole ship. She hesitates after that thought. A blast of hot air rushes across the room as the machines do who knows what—something complicated, she's sure. The journal's torn pages scatter like wayward seagulls through the room. She becomes resolved as she witnesses her memories fall dismally to the ground. She leans forward to press the biggest, roundest, reddest button she can find. Surely that one will do the most damage. The blowing air stops abruptly, though the room is still in a raucous commotion of whirring machines.

A pounding erupts from the door again, but she ignores it and moves closer to the button. She finally places one finger on the big, inviting button. You can do this, she tries to convince herself. Right before she adds pressure, she glances over her shoulder to the door. The Captain stops his banging and slams a notebook against the window. She pauses, curious now. The notebook is pulled away, and what looks like a memo pad is held against the glass. Was this his way of offering a truce? She moves her finger away from the button and steps closer to the door. The Captain lowers the memo pad and looks so relieved she wonders if he'll cry. Another notebook, different color, is shoved against the glass.

Summer sighs. She has no idea what she's doing and knows it's best if she just accepts her punishment and opens the door. How long can she keep up this ploy anyway?

She moves forward to unlock the door, and the Captain backs away, even though it opens inward. She hesitantly puts weight on the handle until it unlatches and then takes several paces backward. Captain Travis places one foot over the threshold with an arm full of assorted notebooks and paper. Her heart beats so rapidly she wonders if it will grow wings and flutter away. She hasn't been punished in two years—and last time was so painful she made sure to never make a mistake again. The Captain never laid a finger on her in an offensive way; it was always a crew member, but that doesn't mean he won't.

He approaches her cautiously, like she's a snake ready to strike, but it's Summer that's afraid he'll strike with venom. He takes one more step, and she automatically recoils so violently that her back pops. At the same time she raises her arms over her head and ducks. She considers melting into the ground and joining the oily grease as she crouches on the floor, all dignity lost.

Air explodes out of one of the machines again, and Summer's blonde hair lifts into the air. She's waiting for it to happen—her punishment. Or to at least be lead away roughly to some place where they will beat her—or whip her. Possibly starve her. She trembles at her thoughts and still nothing happens. After a few heart-racing seconds, the Captain's sandpaper hand grabs her forearm and moves it away from her face. She realizes that she's crying and is absolutely nauseous with the idea of this adding to the punishment.

Irrationally she thinks, Punishment isn't even a descriptive enough word. Hell isn't either, though I'm sure this is it.

But the Captain doesn't do anything to harm her, only gestures for her to exit. She stares beyond the gapping door into the eyes of several crew members. Her eyes snap back to the Captain's, his facial expression hidden beneath his scraggly beard. She shakes her head, one last show of defiance.

The Captain stabs his finger toward the opening more forcefully this time. She gets to her feet and does the walk of shame to the door and past the threshold where the crew members part to let her pass. Any movement from the crew makes her twitch and flinch away, though none of them make a move to touch her. She contemplates fleeing again, but has no idea where she'll go.

The Captain catches up to her when she starts to climb the steps.

"I know what happened, Summer," he says, his voice surprisingly soft. She waits for the shouting. "I know who it was, and he's gone the next time we reach port."

She nods in acknowledgement, wondering why he's telling her this.

"Ya've been a great asset to this ship, Summer. If ya pull this shit again there'll be drastic consequences," he threatens, his dark eyes backing his words like a blood promise. "I'm giving ya a pass because someone destroyed something important to ya. Ya acted irrationally, and no one's perfect."

They continue their way down another rusted metal hallway, and the silence grows thick between them. He hands over the assorted paper and notebooks to her. She accepts them gratefully, but knows it's useless—the only thing she knows how to write is her name, and the images aren't easily replicable. These will just be a reminder of what she lost; not just her drawn memories, but her previous life. Her heart still aches for her mum, though she tries not to think about it too often or it only makes everything worse. Still, she holds them closely to her chest. Gifts are rare, and she never takes them for granted.

"I'm gunna put a lock on yer door and give ya the key," Captain Travis says, breaking the tension-filled silence. "But I'll also have a key," he warns. "That way no one'll be able to do anything like this again, but at the same time I can make sure ya don't do anything like what you did today."

This is the nicest thing the captain has ever done for her, and she nods fervently, not believing her luck.

"Though what ya did with the peppers was quite clever. He deserved it." The Captain actually chuckles.

She looks up at his face questioningly, wondering who "he" is. She wants to make sure to spit in his dinner every night.

"Oh no." He laughs at the frown on her face. "Until he's off my ship I won't tell ya who it is. If ya try to pull any more tricks with him he'll not tolerate them, and he'll strike back. He's been known to do some awful things to people." The captain rubs his beard distractedly as they turn another corner, only feet away from her room. Aaron is waiting outside, smirking widely under his mop of fire-red hair. "I knew I should've never let that arrogant imbecile on this ship," the Captain practically growls.

"Hey, I can he'r ya, ya know? " Aaron replies with a laugh.

"I ain't talkin' 'bout you, boy." Captain Travis stops outside Summer's room and pivots to face her. "I've got to g't my supplies so I can put the lock back on yer door. Aaron here'll make sure—" He glances up at Aaron then back to Summer. "—that no one bothers you 'til I g't this lock in place. Ya burned many tongues tonight."

Aaron finds this hysterical. Not Summer. She knows that she'll have to watch her step for a while. Captain Travis might not punish her, but that doesn't mean the other crew members won't.

"Don't ya worry," the Captain tries to reassure. "I'm the only one allowed to whip ya over this incident. I've called dibs."

She nods. But there are much worse things they can do, she thinks internally as she rubs her upper arm where it's blanketed with burn scars.

CHAPTER 17: BINDING

16 years old

Summer and Jaden huddle together inside one of the sleeping bags and share their warmth in the cold, damp cave. Summer slept the majority of the night, though she was aware whenever Gage and Cameron changed shifts for lookout throughout the night. She's come to realize that neither Gage nor Cameron have any intentions of hurting them—at least not right now. Though her heart is pretty sure Gage wasn't lying last night. Jaden snores softly next to her, while Summer peeks out of the sleeping bag to catch Gage's still form in the other one.

His blonde hair is not the typical military high and tight. Besides being tousled with sleep, it's combed forward to reveal just enough length to be rebellious, yet short enough to not be sloppy. A few strands of hair fall dangerously close to his eyebrows and tickle his forehead. She wishes he was awake so she could dive into the heavenly green of his hypnotic eyes. His nose, with its little, imperfect bump, is slightly blushed from the cold air. Full lips curve into a smile as he dreams. She's curious of what, or who, it is that he's dreaming of. Startlingly, his eyes fly open, and Summer dives into the sleeping bag to cover her face. Jaden moans quietly, turns over, and falls quickly back to sleep. It's unbelievably embarrassing that she was just caught ogling Gage while he sleeps.

The only noise is the roaring waterfall covering the entrance, so she's not sure if he's fallen back to sleep or not. After several breathless moments, she glances over the edge of the sleeping bag and comes face to face with those chaotically, beautiful green eyes. For the first time in years, a scream almost escapes. Before she attempts to dig a hole out of the sleeping bag while scrambling away, Gage reaches out tenderly and runs his hand down her cheek. She freezes and finally takes in his expression—he's smiling, but not menacing or evil-like. He's smiling like Landon would, though Gage's eyes have this fierce intensity to them that Landon's doesn't.

"Did you sleep well?" he barely whispers—lip reading necessary.

She shakes her head and holds her hand over his. Her cheek starts to warm under his palm.

"You're cold," he notes with a frown. His other palm encloses her face, and her cheeks are flaming—more with the emotions flowing through her than anything else.

Cameron comes into view and leans over his shoulder. "How is she today?"

"Not sure yet—she obviously didn't sleep well, and she feels like her temperature could be too low." His eyes don't leave Summer's as he accesses her situation. Her head pounds slightly from her head wound.

Cameron sighs, and if Summer isn't mistaken, she would say it's in concern. "I should probably check her out again, and feed her some breakfast."

Jaden yawns loudly behind Summer. "What's going on?" she asks sleepily.

"We're hoping to call in transport today to bring us to the hospital," Cameron says. "If the lines are still static we'll have to walk. It'll take several days, and I'm afraid we're just not prepared for such a long trip in the wild."

Jaden stretches as she sits up and meets the cold air. "It's freezing in here." Her hands run up and down her arms. "Anyway, if we get stuck out there—'in the wild'—we'll be fine. Remember, I can hunt. My old master liked to hunt for sport and brought me along to do the dirty work."

"I don't think you understand—plus, hunting is illegal," Cameron argues. "It's dangerous out there, and we can't just hunt without permission. There are hunting seasons, and you must be trained beforehand. Only a handful of people are chosen to hunt—usually it's a talent that runs in the family. If you're caught without the proper permits you could be put on trial. Some have even been executed!"

The word startles Summer, but Gage's palm over her cheek prevents her from flinching away. Her breath catches in her throat. Cameron said "executed." It's unsettling and upsetting to hear that.

"There is no way I'd starve over a stupid law like that," says Jaden, her voice even. "If you are so afraid to hunt, I'll do it for you."

Cameron huffs. "Buying illegally hunted game is also illegal."

"It's your lucky day then. I'm giving it away for free!"

Gage and Cameron can't help but chuckle.

"Plus, I saw both of you partaking in the eating of my rabbit," Jaden adds.

Cameron opens her mouth as if to say something, but then her face goes blank, like her mind has left the proverbial building. Suddenly, she blinks her brown eyes rapidly before shrugging. "Well, looks like it won't be an issue. Transport just contacted me. They'll be here in a few hours—told us to hang tight and to eat some breakfast in the mean time." She looks at the back of Gage's head. "It's gotten worse," is all she says to him.

Gage closes his eyes, frowns, and sighs. "I was afraid of that. Did you tell them who our passengers are and that both of them need medical attention?" Summer watches the lines of his face grow hard and straight, though his hands warming her cheeks stay gentle.

"Yes, they know. There were some protests, but I have great connections in the transport system thanks to my profession." Cameron begins to unpack food from her bag and sits it out. "Doctor Rose is waiting at the Phantomship Medical Institute."

The tension in Gage's jaw softens, and his eyes open to expose those spellbinding eyes, entrapping Summer immediately. "That's good news," he says.

Jaden hops out of the sleeping bag and starts to ask Cameron a million questions about the food and other things in her pack. Summer, on the other hand, doesn't move she's so enthralled by Gage.

"Hey, are you warmer now?" His voice is soft, like a caress over her skin. She nods between his palms, and he lets go. "It's been too hot outside to carry any kind of cold weather gear, so I'm sorry I don't have anything warmer," Gage continues as he sits up, turns, and digs through his pack, his voice becoming muffled. "But I hope these will fit." He pivots back around and hands her some folded clothes.

Sitting up, she takes the clothes from him and grins.

"Oh, and one more thing." He holds up his finger as he rummages in his pack again. "Now you're set." On the pile of clothes, he adds a plastic bag full of things she doesn't recognize, and she glances up at him in question. It's like an automatic gesture now as he holds out his hand, palm up.

Summer drops the clothes and bag into her lap and gingerly takes his palm. "I don't know what to do with the stuff in the bag," she writes slowly with a shrug.

"That's okay—I'll show you." Gage glances over his shoulder at Cameron to see how much longer until breakfast, then he turns back to Summer. "If you want to change, you can go around that corner"—he points to where Cameron and Jaden went last night—"and then I can show you what to do with the rest of this stuff. Sound good?"

She inclines her head and writes in his palm, "Thank you."

"It's not a problem." He stands, turning his hand so he can help her up. She's not sure for a second, but he waits with an encouraging smile until she gives in. The sleeping bag tumbles from her tiny frame, and the cold air immediately rushes in, penetrating her skin and sending chills down her body. "We'll be out of here soon," he promises and rubs his hands along her upper arms to create friction to warm her.

Biting her lip, she nods and backs away. The light follows her into what appears to be a small passageway to another part of the cave. The mystery of the light isn't answered when she spins around for the source. She quickly pulls off and tosses her ratty pair of pants on the ground. The black pants Gage gave her are several sizes too large—in length and around her waist. The top has a string she uses to tighten them, and she then rolls the waistline until the pants no longer drag along the floor. Next, she removes her bloody shirt—which might as well be called a potato sack, because it used to be one. Landon was creative enough to make it into a shirt for her; he even sowed the hemlines. This she makes sure to fold neatly. If Landon never returns she wants a physical reminder of their amazing friendship. The black shirt she throws over her head is long-sleeved and engulfs her. It's so long it hits the tops of her knees. Gage was even nice enough to include a pair of black socks; they are so long they reach past her knees. The only things missing are underwear and shoes.

Summer peers around the corner to see the three of them cooking a strange looking breakfast. Cameron has lain down a thin piece of metal that glows red and has placed a compressed bag of food over it. It grows larger and larger until purple steam rises from a hole in the top. Cameron drags it off the heated metal and lets it cool before cutting the bag open with, what appears to be in Summer's vision, thin air. Jaden is riveted, giggling with the hugest grin she can plaster across her face.

"And what's this called?" Jaden asks excitedly.

"Le lunamow, cuisine Leaguer style," Cameron explains with a grim expression, poking the food like it's going to attack her at any moment. "It's actually one of the more edible foods we carry around with us when we're destined for places far from headquarters. It's a mix between le luna, a genetically altered vegetable with high fiber and healthy calories, and mows, or mutant cows, as the kids like to call them."

Jaden is thrilled by this, while Summer gasps audibly and puts her back to the wall. She's aghast at the thought of someone taking her favorite vegetables, and the lovable cow—not that she'd ever met one before—and altering them . . . mutating them so they are better for humans! It's just such a selfish thing to do.

Startled silence greets her echoing gasp, and then whispers break out. Jaden and Cameron continue their conversation about the food eaten in the Canadian Federation, while Gage's voice is absent.

What kind of strange, unusual universe have I stepped into? She runs a hand through her tangled blonde hair.

"Summer?" Gage calls from around the corner. "May I . . . are you dressed?"

One knock on the rock behind her. Her blue eyes hide behind closed lids, and her chest aches with worry and anxiety. Things used to be so simple, even if she was a slave before. What is she now? A patient? A burden? An Outlander? Or do they plan to alter her genes until she's a mutated human with military-controlled super powers? Really, what does she know about this world? It's not that she is a skeptic when it comes to the things they tell her about. She's truly afraid of trusting someone she doesn't know. Anything can happen. Gage has some sort of soothing, almost anesthetic-like, influence over her. His touch is like a drug, and that scares her more than anything—because the Captain never had any kind of hold over her besides the whip (and a few other choice torture tools) that his crew kept just for her. But Gage, he hasn't even hurt her . . . and she's already bending to his will, wearing his clothes, staring into his eyes and getting lost. His eyes are a weapon all on their own, and the one thing she's yet to be able to withstand.

"Summer." His voice is like a warming presence, the tone forlorn. "Please, please open your eyes." Everything he says, how he says it, commands and soothes. Convinces and conquers.

Her eyelids grow tighter—bind to the point of stars shining in her vision—and she shakes her head adamantly. Doesn't he understand she can't attach herself to anyone like that? The whole point of escaping was for her to have free will. If he only asks and uses his communicative eyes, she will obey.

"This is so frustrating," he says roughly, though his voice is so, so gentle. "I don't even know you, and you've stolen a part of me. Why can't I let you go and treat you like the other Outlanders? Why does my heart insist I stay and fight for you?" He lets out a lengthy breath, and the heat of it washes over her. "Summer, what are you doing to me? I'd do anything you asked of me. Anything. Just—"

Summer's brilliant blue eyes open in shock. He's thinking the same things I am. Realization pounds into her. His expression is disheartening, his eyes massive orbs of suffering and remorse.

"Hey," he whispers, just like the first time they met.

She wants to kiss him—she wants to hit him. Maybe she wants to run from him. Really, she's not sure what she wants. The long sleeves of the shirt tangle as she tries to lift her hand.

"Let me help," he offers and reaches around her waist, his hand trailing up her back.

Her heart turns to assault mode, battling in her chest, soaking in the oxygen from her rapid breaths, and pumping it through her body with extraordinary force. It tingles and makes her feel wonderful and frightened all at once. His body is touching hers, pressing her up against the rock. His other hand is flat against the rock next to her head. The day Jarvis held her face against the ship's deck as he shoved her rags over her head come ramming back into her skull like a million hammers nailing the image in to stay.

Her body betrays her emotions too much for her liking. Gage's breath on her neck as he snakes his arm up her lower back, and the full body contact begins to make her tremble with ferocity. She will give anything to have the image of Jarvis go away and to replace it with Gage's gentle, tender touches. It's been four years, but maybe it'll never be enough time to erase the fear. Gage presses lightly with one finger in the middle of her back before releasing the pressure. The shirt swiftly shrinks, conforming to her curves with ease. He backs away slowly, his hand stopping on her hip, his nose mere centimeters from her ear.

"Don't be scared," he pleads softly. "Please." He chokes on the word.

Still shaking, trembling, heart banging roughly, Summer decides to not let this rule her life. The sensations are still there, the palpable taste of fear on her tongue, the rain splashing the ground in its passive, unemotional state. The memory's inside every part of her senses, corrupting and poisoning anything in its path.

Gage pulls away, and through her tears, her pure, undiluted terror, she sees a man with soft, compassionate eyes—knowing eyes. He isn't Jarvis. There is no comparison between the two. It's not exactly a revelation, but an understanding. Passion and terror aren't the same, but Summer must overcome the overwhelming sensations that they are.

Before Gage's hand slips completely from her hip, she holds her hand over his and pulls it back around. She wraps her arms around his thick, muscular waist, and places her head on his warm chest. And then she weeps all the tears of suffering she's always afraid to let go. Gasping, gulping, heaving tears—she hasn't cried this hard since she was four. If Landon is her salvation, Gage is her healer. He holds her with the strength of a million-man army, but with all the tenderness of her heart lying naked in the palms of his hands.

He circles his other arm around her shoulders, rubs soothingly at her back, and pulls her away from the rocks. He says nothing, only holds her as she lets the emotional stain of all the years escape her eyes and brand his shirt. He doesn't ask what's wrong, he doesn't demand answers, and he doesn't punish her for the squeaks and wails that grow louder as she fists his shirt in the back.

"Your cries pierce my heart," he whispers. "And your emotions are a tangible flavor on my tongue."

This is when she should flinch, or duck away and hide in panic for the punishment that is to come with such a fit. Instead, he grasps her tighter, his arms made just to hold her. She clings to him as her life falls apart in his hands, hoping he can save her—that he can heal her. That maybe, one day, he can love her, even though she doesn't truly deserve to be loved.

As her sobs are controlled, and her body's trembling decreases, she releases her death grip on his shirt. Gage backs away slightly to gaze down at her tear-stained face and begins to wipe them all away. "Hey now, it's going to be okay. I'll make sure of it." He pauses to take in her puffy eyes, her red rimmed lips, and richly blue eyes. He sighs softly. "This wasn't about that, was it?"

Summer shakes her head spiritlessly.

"Was it about . . . the guy who . . . you know?" He can't form the question, as if the terrible idea deeply upsets him too.

Summer responds with a tiny nod, her eyes downcast, staring at his oddly fascinating black boots.

"You know I'd never do that to you, right?" He swallows thickly when she glances up at him. "Me? I'm safe. No punishment, no rape, no anything you don't want." He takes a deep breath and brushes her hair away from her face. "You've been traumatized, and I know it'll take time. But you know what, Summer?" He tips a finger under her chin, his skin warm and soft. "I'll be here to help—and to prove to you that I'm not that kind of person."

Summer blinks, and two more tears trail down her cheeks before her lips twitch, just a little bit, into a smile. She gives the tiniest nod.

"Was that a yes? You understand?" he asks with a grin.

She snatches his palm away from her face and writes across it, "Yes! Yes!"

"That's great. Are you ready for me to show you how to use everything in that bag?" He backs away from her and snatches it off the ground.

Her smile shows her answer.

He pulls out a small silver and green packet. "This," he explains, "is for your teeth. Just pop it in your mouth and let it disintegrate on your tongue for two minutes. Here, try it."

She flips the packet around and around, wondering how that will clean her teeth. As per his instructions, she tears it open and places it on her outstretched tongue. Then she closes her mouth and waits. Her mouth explodes with the minty sensation of bubbles expanding and attacking every inch of her mouth. She almost spits it out, but Gage rushes forward and lightly holds her jaw closed.

"Trust me, you'll feel much better when it's done." His grin shows off his brilliantly white smile.

She makes a show of holding her mouth shut by covering it with her hand. When the two minutes are up, and the wild sensation has died down, she looks to Gage for what to do next.

"Swallow," he instructs, and she does.

It's the most refreshing her mouth has ever tasted. This is so much better than any toothbrush. She's beginning to think she'll like the future—eventually. There's just one very important thing missing. Landon.
CHAPTER 18: TRANSPORT

16 years old

That little bag contains everything she needs to brush her teeth, shampoo, condition, and brush her hair, and provides a full body deodorant after she uses the stream of water in the cave to wash off the last few day's residue. Jaden also finds the bag as fascinating as cooking breakfast.

Gage keeps his distance from Summer, letting her decide how close or far away she chooses to be to him. She's not sure what to do with the freedom he provides, but enjoys it all the same. They all sit in a circle around the cooked breakfast as the sun hits the rushing water and bathes the cavernous cave in a crimson dawn. La lunamow is served in an Asian-type sauce with the strangest kind of beef Summer's ever tasted. As she literally licks the spoon clean, Gage offers up the rest of his food. She hesitates for a moment.

"It's okay, take it," he offers again. She accepts it, ravenous from lack of food the past several days. When she finishes with his portion, her belly finally feels full. This is the most energy she's had in weeks, it seems.

The waterfall, constantly in the background, suddenly becomes a vibrating mass of rippling water. "Ah, that would be the transport. They're earlier than they said." Cameron jumps to her feet. "Perfect."

A flat, oval-shaped, silver hovercraft brakes through the water, and the dust in the cave scatters in a storm. The noise from the wailing wind created by the hovercraft is deafening, and all she can hear is the hovercraft's engine echoing through the caves passageways and reverberating back. Summer covers her eyes and crouches down, unsure how to react. She reaches out, hoping to find Gage. Not really knowing why she would be looking for him in the first place. It's automatic, she realizes. I am searching for him because I trust him. Before she can digest this bit of insight, a hand grasps hers and yanks her harshly to her feet. Blinking, she stares into the face of Max, one of the soldiers of the Canadian League. Her face drains of color. For a moment she considers resisting, but doesn't know what will happen if she does.

Max, without the scowl, looks terrifying all on his own. His almost-white hair, grey eyes, and milky skin give him a sadistic appearance. With a locked jaw, his eyes squinting at her like she's just an annoying spider he can easily kill by knocking down her already-weak web, he looks more like a predator. Summer's light weight makes her easy to throw around, and that's exactly what Max does. His fingers clasp around her right wrist, pitch her across the cave and right through the open hovercraft door. It's Paige, the other soldier in the Canadian League, who catches her, yanks her arm up behind her back painfully, and smiles delightfully as Gage storms the hovercraft, yelling at them. His voice is lost in the chaos. Cameron's arm wraps around Jaden protectively, her cheekbones sharp, eyes starving for a fight, as they step through the hovercraft's doors. The door shuts, and it's like everyone's gone deaf it's so quiet. There isn't an eye that isn't huge, everyone in various states of upset.

A painful, achingly silent second goes by before Gage yanks something black from his belt and slams it into Paige's neck. She jerks behind Summer as the blow hits Paige, but she doesn't let go. Summer's eyes are still wide with shock and fright. Her body shakes with uncontrollable tremors, and her blood freezes in her veins. I should've known my good luck wouldn't last long.

"What do you think you're doing, Brooks?" Gage's tone is bitingly cold as he regards the situation. The light angles from behind him, and his blonde hair and beautifully angry face are framed like a painting. "Let go of her now. That's an order! And I won't repeat it."

"Or you'll what? Knock me out? Oh, I'm shaking in my boots," Paige sneers, goading him. A strange, delighted smile creeps up her face. "She's just a blue-eyed savage, just like the rest of them."

Summer's arm and shoulder begins to tingle with a pins and needles sensation, her fingers already numb.

"If you aren't going to follow the orders of your commanding officer, I will do what is necessary to obtain order again." Gage's teeth grit, his green eyes hardening into bright, intelligent emeralds. "Your name is Paige Brooks, not fate, therefore you have no right to decide anything about Summer's life!"

When Paige doesn't let go, there's a second of buzzing, and then she almost collapses on top of Summer. Gage's arm snaps forward and pulls Summer out of harm's way as Paige's body hits the ground with a thud, her jaw hanging slack. There's a collective intake of breath as Gage replaces the device that just knocked her out into his belt.

"All of this for an Outlander, Appleton?" Max shouts as he bends down to check on Paige.

"I'm pretty sure neither of you own a soul, Everfast," Gage says with not even a tinge of emotion. He pushes Summer behind him, and Jaden pulls her into her arms. "If this was your sister, wouldn't you want her to be given the proper medical care if she was in this condition?"

Max jumps to his feet and stands only inches away from Gage's face. "My sister isn't some scarred, dumb slave who's malnourished. Even in the past no one wanted Summer badly enough to keep her safe!"

Gage takes two steps back, deeply inhales two breaths, and swallows twice compulsively. "You're right, you're sister's busy selling her body for food and shelter. How old is her most recent husband? A hundred and twenty? Kind of young for her."

Max flies at him, face ashen grey with fury. His fists are held high, punching wildly at the air. Gage ducks and punches him in the gut, suddenly throwing his elbow out to catch him right under the ribs, too. Max, on the verge of collapsing to the ground, grasps his stomach with a sharp intake of breath. "Splash," he curses, breathless.

"Shut up you babbling idiot! If you ever come after me again, Everfast, you will be suspended." Gage's voice is robust with authority and power. "And you know what that means? Another year in the Canadian League, soldier. I can make your life a living hell, Everfast. I can make you a Lifer if you don't clean up your temper." He points his finger at Max, the gesture threatening. "And if you ever touch Summer, or go after her in any way, being suspended will be the least of your problems. You got that?"

Max coughs and nods.

Gage pivots around, his face a mask of outrage, and strides straight to the sliding doors at the front of the hovercraft. He raises his hand and wipes it across the air before him. The doors glide away and Gage steps through.

At the far end of the hovercraft, Summer finds a seat and tries to fold into herself. With Paige slack-jawed on the ground, and Max still gasping for breath, Summer feels a sort of queasy relief.

"John and Casey! It's so good to see you," Summer hears Gage greet the men on the other side of the door. She can hear laughter as the men joke around. "Listen, men, I just want to make sure we're headed to the right place. We need to drop off two patients at Phantomship Medical Institute. These other two bozos need to be taken home—they are taking the day off. No exceptions!"

"Yes, sir!" they say nervously, their joking laughter gone.

"What's our ETA?"

"Twenty five minutes, sir. Communication has been up and down all week, so we might stay airborne for longer if we don't get permission to land."

"Thank you, men."

Gage exits, and the door slides shut behind him. He immediately locks eyes with a frightened Summer who sits in the farthest corner with her legs drawn up, arms around her knees. Jaden perches next to her and Cameron relaxes in the other corner. Gage wavers for a second, barely taking time to glance at the other two, before he goes straight to Summer and crouches down so she is higher, making him less intimidating. He rubs his temples in frustration. The tension still arcs in the air like tendrils of zinging electricity.

"One step forward, two steps back," he says with a sigh and drops his hands.

Summer stares back through her brilliant blue eyes, not knowing how to react.

"You always look at me with all the profound sadness in the world." He reaches for her hand, and she flinches just slightly before she grips his hand with all the intensity in her. The tension dissolves in the air like fine mist.

"I had no idea they'd be aboard—I guess I should have assumed since we would all be in the same area. It would be ridiculous to send two transports all the way out in the middle of nowhere when they could send just one. Anyway, I'm sorry. I should have stopped Max before he got to you. Those two seem to foul up everything they touch."

She squeezes his hand reassuringly. Gage takes the open seat on her right, and Summer immediately seizes his palm, ready to change the subject. "Are you a faerie?" she writes across his palm with a calm she doesn't feel inside. She's still not convinced they aren't real.

He coughs a laugh.

She writes, "This hovercraft just wouldn't work if you weren't a faerie." Logic.

"You're unfathomably precious, you know that?" His eyes shine with reluctant amusement.

She shakes her head, a grin capturing her immediately.

"But no, I'm not one." His grim expression smoothes, and the wrinkles on his forehead disappear. "This hovercraft practically negates magic. It's purely scientific, no magical spells."

Before he can continue, she glides her fingers softly against his palm again, not writing anything. The wrinkles appear on his forehead again, and she reaches up with her thumb and smoothes them out for him. "I'm only playing," she writes, and then continues her graceful movements across his palm.

Gage smiles, his head lain back, and closes his eyes. "It feels nice."

"I'm going to wait until we get to the hospital to check you out, Summer," Cameron interrupts. "Just relax until then." Cameron glares over at angry Max and the unconscious Paige on the other side of the hovercraft.

To the left of Summer, Jaden bounces excitedly in her seat. It's one of the qualities Summer really likes about Jaden: she doesn't let anything bother her. While Summer's scanning every room she walks into for threats, Jaden's running through the hailstorms head on. Yet Jaden stands triumphant, smiling and giddy at everything she sees around her. It's not the same for Summer. She's jealous of Jaden's sense of adventure, but she wonders if deep down Jaden is just as jaded as she is. It's a black thought, really. If not—and she hopes not—she considers Jaden one of the greatest mysterious of the universe. And more importantly, her friend.
CHAPTER 19: INSTITUTE

16 years old

As they fly over the city, Summer is captivated by the sheer size of it. There are only a few tiny windows for her to peer out of, but she plasters herself in front of the closest one, along with Jaden.

"How cool is that?" says Jaden excitedly while pointing at the top of a tall building where people are gathered. "And that!" She points at a line of hovering cars. Or at least that is what Summer thinks they are—she has never seen much of cities before, so it is harder for her to tell the difference.

As the hovercraft slows down and lowers in the sky, she notices a large line of people being ushered into a gated building. The green and black uniforms of the Canadian League stick out from the crowd, and she can't help but notice that the people are being forced forward. Behind her, she finds Gage and pulls him toward the window, pointing to the people questioningly.

"Ah, yeah. Those are Outlanders being rounded up. They are tagging them and assigning them to their camp," he explains.

Jaden and Summer turn to face him and sink into their seats. "Tag us?" asks Jaden.

A dark chuckle comes from Max, though he says nothing. It sends chills down her spine. Gage and Cameron also stay decidedly quiet. This only makes the anxiety in Summer tighten until she feels at any second the strings to her nerves will snap and lash out. The memories of how she ended up here, in this hovercraft with people she doesn't know, make her head spin (or that could be her head wound). She'd come to terms with her slavery, and then Jaden just comes waltzing back into her life and everything changes. Though she's more comfortable with Gage than is normal for her, she is still incredibly weary of him. To her, everyone is a stranger and a threat.

The hovercraft jolts, and the door to the outside slides open. The whirring engines turn off, and the noises die down slowly. Gage and Cameron immediately stand and start to gather their packs. Summer and Jaden stay seated, wondering what they are supposed to be doing. A woman with bright red hair tied into a knot at the nape of her neck boards the hovercraft. Her cheekbones jut out, and her sharp, black eyes skim the scene like a hawk.

"Doctor Rose, what are you doing on the landing pad?" asks Cameron in concern. "Is everything okay?"

"Not exactly," Doctor Rose says, straightening her white lab coat. "It's chaos on the streets, and guards have been placed at all the entrances and exits to the hospital. You have to provide an official pass to get past the doors, so I'm here to assign you passes."

Cameron and Gage turn sideways, and Doctor Rose pulls out a slim, black metal slab with a screen on it. A thin piece of metal ejects from the device, and she sticks it into Cameron's ear, waits for a beep, and then removes the long device. She repeats this on Gage. It looks painful, but neither of them shy away.

"These two have been ordered to go home for the day," explains Gage as he points his thumb over his shoulder at Paige and Max. "Neither of them are allowed near our patients." Max shows his teeth in a snarl, but keeps his mouth shut when Gage shoots him a nasty glare.

"And these two are the patients?" Doctor Rose nods her head in the direction of Jaden and Summer.

"Yes," says Cameron. "This is Summer and Jaden. Summer needs fluids immediately—I didn't have the right equipment in the field for an IV. She also has a head wound that needs to be attended to."

Suddenly, stretchers roll into view—or float, because there seems to be nothing holding them off the ground—and stop just outside the hovercraft's door. Two men and two women in white scrubs wait with the stretchers and have what appear to be high-tech clipboards in hand. Summer's eyes are wide at the change in atmosphere, and she shakes slightly. Her body is weak, and her nerves are shot. All she wants to do is curl up in a corner and sleep for a week. Or two. Gage approaches her carefully, his eyes appraising her, and then she can see resolution solidify in his eyes. He leans over and lifts her from the seat with no effort, as if she is a bag of feathers. This stuns her, so she doesn't even try to struggle with him. Plus, struggling can lead to punishment. He places her on one of the stretchers with such tender care her thoughts waver. Gage won't punish me. Right?

"I feel silly asking this, but what's your last name?" asks Gage as he holds out his palm for her.

"Waverly," she writes.

"Doctor Rose," Gage calls out, and the doctor comes to his side. "This is Summer Waverly. She's an Outlander found dehydrated and starving on the beach—ship wrecked." His voice lowers, and he turns away from Summer. "She's been tortured for years. She was a slave in the past, so please be careful with her."

Doctor Rose gasps, and her hawk-like eyes soften as they glance down at Summer.

"She has really bad anxiety, and she won't speak. From what we can make out she hasn't spoken in several years, so don't expect responses. Sometimes she'll write in my palm, so I imagine if you needed her to, she could answer your questions on an Astropad." Gage pivots and glances down at her. His hand brushes her cheek tenderly. "Please take care of this one, and don't let the guards or staff of this hospital treat her like an Outlander."

"My staff is purely professional, though I don't know what I can do about the guards."

"You take their names and give them to me if they're unprofessional in any way," says Gage seriously.

Cameron helps hoist Jaden onto the other stretcher. "Is this really necessary?" Jaden complains, but then sees one of the male nurses. "Never mind. Will you be the one taking me to my room?"

There is a soft chuckle in reply.

"That one, on the other hand," Gage says with a laugh, pointing at Jaden, "will talk your ear off."

"Neural implants?" the Doctor asks with a slight smile, changing the subject and getting straight to business. Summer can tell she is a no-nonsense kind of woman and admires the quality. Plus, she is a woman in a powerful position. Doctor Rose's situation is very attractive to Summer, who, despite how weak she is, has enough energy to swell with jealousy.

"I don't think it'll be a wise idea with Summer—" his voice lowers "—not with the psychological damage she's incurred. If her thoughts are transmitted using the neural implant on accident . . ."

"Her anxiety could peak and cause a heart attack," Cameron finishes for him. "Possibly Catatonia."

"You always bring me the best cases, Resident Steen," compliments Doctor Rose. "Now let's get off the landing pad before anyone realizes we have Outlanders up here."

"Is it really that bad?" Gage asks.

"It gets worse every day."

The people in scrubs begin to strap Jaden and Summer onto the stretchers. When the first strap over Summer's chest tightens, her heart starts to pound, and her body begins to shake uncontrollably. Her mind begins to flash back to a similar scenario when she was being tortured once. She knows struggling only makes it worse, so she closes her eyes and holds her breath, hoping it'll all be over soon. Gage said he wouldn't let her get hurt, but he is standing right there, not doing anything to stop them as she is strapped down.

Two of the people in the white scrubs cart off Jaden as Cameron follows closely behind, answering Jaden's many, many, many questions.

Gage notices Summer's heavy breaths and reaches for her hand. Her eyes fly open and stare into his green ones, hypnotizing her again. "This is just to make sure you don't fall off," he explains as he fiddles with one of the straps. "Once they get you into a room they'll be taken off, okay?"

Summer nods, but her breathing only becomes rougher until she feels like she's suffocating. As she gasps for air, Gage quickly unbuckles the straps, and she breaks free. In an upright position, she seizes his hand and writes in his palm, "Please don't let them hurt me."

She can't help her anxiety. It's deeply rooted in her mind, no matter what anyone says. She's heard the trust speech before from crew members on the Cosmos who lashed out anyways. Only Landon has kept this promise, and now he's lost. Maybe even in the past still.

Gage exhales a deep breath as Doctor Rose comes into view. "This is a lot worse than I thought," she says.

"You probably haven't seen a case this bad before," he agrees dejectedly.

"Summer? Can you lie down for me? We won't strap you in, but we need you to lie down." The doctor's voice is so sure.

Gage places a hand on Summer's shoulder and pushes her just enough for her to finish the action and lie down.

She looks up into the blue sky and watches as different kinds of hovercrafts race across it. Her concentration is more focused on Gage and the Doctor, though, as they talk about events and news, even though she doesn't understand some of the subjects they discuss. The guards check everyone except for Summer as they pass the doors into the hospital. On the other side of the doors, a machine is pressed against her wrist, and something stings her. She grits her teeth and holds up the inside of her wrist to her face to see the damage. It looks like a tattoo with her information on it.

SUMMER WAVERLY

Blood Type Error

DOB 06/08/2194

Genetic Code 000000

No allergies

She rubs her fingers over her name and stares up at Gage. The device that gave her the tattoo begins to beep angrily. Doctor Rose reaches for Summer's wrist, and Summer jerks away automatically. The Doctor stops abruptly and looks between Gage and Summer, a baffled expression on her face.

"Let me," offers Gage. He gently takes Summer's wrist and turns it so he can read the information. "That's weird. It says she has no blood type, her genetics code is 000000, and that her date of birth was in 2194."

The two exchange curious glances before they look down at Summer, like they were wanting her to answer.

"The Ballistor is never wrong," the doctor argues like saying it will make it true. "The date of birth is wrong on all the Outlanders, I've noticed. But the other stuff—this is very abnormal."

"Perhaps we should try it again? Or maybe use another tester?" suggests one of the women in scrubs.

"Perhaps," says Doctor Rose, her face a mask of confusion.

They continue into the building and enter into a tiny room. Summer doesn't understand what is going on as they all just stand there. Then the woman in scrubs who spoke earlier says clearly, "Third floor."

For a second it feels like the floor is going out from under her, then the doors to the room open, and they cart her out and into a hallway full of people who whiz past. She's not quite sure what just happened, but she's positive this is the whitest place she has ever been. Or seen, for that matter. The ceiling is rounded above her, and there are no lights that she can see, yet the place is bright. It's like in the cave—she can't find the source of the light.

They take a turn and enter into another room. Summer is incredibly nervous over another drastic change, but can see Gage's face. It's the only thing keeping her relaxed, and she isn't quite sure how she feels about that. She still doesn't know him that well.

"This is your room," he tells her while helping her sit up.

Everything is white or metal, very few colors. With Gage's help, she lowers herself off the stretcher and goes to look out the window. Before she reaches it, Doctor Rose scuttles across the floor like a scampering squirrel and presses a button that immediately turns the window into another white wall.

"It's better if we focus on your recovery and less on what's going on outside," Doctor Rose says nervously.

The Doctor looks around Summer to the two people in scrubs and says a bunch of technical terms that she doesn't understand. They rush out of the room, Doctor Rose on their heels. The door clicks shut behind them, and now Gage and Summer are alone. They both stand awkwardly in the room.

"You might want to put this on," Gage finally says and points to pile of clothing. "There's a bathroom behind you." He grabs the clothes and holds them out for her. She only hesitates for a minute before she reaches out and takes them from him.

After changing into what looks similar to scrubs, she exits the bathroom to see Gage sitting in a chair next to her hospital bed, his hands a teepee, as if in prayer. He glances up and gestures for her to sit on the bed. Her bare feet leave prints of moisture in her wake, her nerves wound even tighter. Though her breathing is more even than before, she is still taking deeper breaths than normal to keep it under control. She perches on the side of the bed and tucks her long, blonde hair behind her ears, crossing her legs awkwardly.

"I can't stay long," says Gage slowly. "But I will stay until they hook you up to the fluids you need through the IV. And if the Jackerion isn't holding, they'll have to replace that and it can be painful." He pauses while his eyes search her face. "Listen, it's going to hurt, but they aren't doing it to hurt you—it'll be to help you. You have no reason to trust me, but I'm asking you to anyways. Please. They only want to help.

"They will probably want to check out your scars too. If you feel uncomfortable, Cameron will be here to help. Jaden is in the room next door, also."

Summer nods, and the room fills with uncomfortable silence. Gage leans forward and his hand engulfs hers—she doesn't flinch and they are both surprised by this. "Are you okay?" he asks sincerely.

She shakes her head sharply twice and Gage sighs.

"I don't know what to do," he admits. "We have to get you better, first of all, but once you are . . . I don't want you to go to the Outlander camp."

Though the Outlander camps seem like this horrible place from how everyone's reacting, she has been through a whole lot of splash. How could the camps be any worse than everything else in the past? What can they do to her that hasn't already been done? But Gage can't grasp this concept, so he worries which only makes her more tense.

He lets go of her, and his hands tangle in his blonde hair as he makes a frustrated sound, placing his elbows on his knees. "You have me contemplating committing treason so I don't have to take you to one of the camps." His words come out angry, and he jumps to his feet. He paces at the end of the bed, muttering incoherently.

Summer's not sure what to do as she watches him, her eyes going back and forth with each of his turns. She wants to tell him she'll be all right, that it's not a big deal for her to go to the camp, and that she doesn't want him to do anything that will get him in trouble—because she knows how awful punishments are.

He stops, facing the door. "I've got to go," he suddenly says and strides from the room. The last thing she sees is the back of his head as he zigzags through the crowd outside. Then the door slides shut again.

Summer stares after him, wishing she would have done something, or said something, to make him stay. Instead, she only watched him walk out. Now she's all alone in the room, upset over Gage's abrupt departure, and scared of what will happen next. She's never felt so alone in her entire life.
CHAPTER 20: NEEDLES

16 years old

Summer's been poked with needles before, and it's always ended with a melting sensation followed by an extensive beating or whipping. And we aren't talking about whipped cream. Needles mean so many different passionate emotions, but the most extensive, terror-inducing sensation is how the drugs she's pumped with usually leave her incoherent. And when you aren't able to defend yourself, horrible things can be done to your body without protest.

She has no idea that an IV means a needle. If she had known this, Gage would have had to strap her down with only the mere mention of it. But the sight of it? Summer ran. Or attempted to. This is why she's now strapped to the bed, holding in those tears she rarely lets loose.

"Shh," Cameron soothes, though Summer's not quite sure how she's supposed to quiet her panting breaths. "It'll only take a second, and then it will all be over with." Cameron looks away and asks someone, "Where's Gage, anyway?"

"He left here thirty minutes ago—he didn't say where to," a nurse answers. "He seemed upset."

"What a splashy piece of work," Cameron grumbles. "He's been the only one who can calm her down—he knew we would need him for this."

Summer struggles under the weight of the straps and hands that hold her down, binding her like some ritual sacrifice to the gods. Sweat blooms over her forehead in tiny beads and trickles into her hair. Her heart's rapid beat echoes on the machine they hook her up to, and an alarm immediately begins to shriek.

"She's not getting enough oxygen," someone shouts.

There are too many people around Summer, all of them industriously working over her body. She's freaking out, grasping for reality as it slips in and out of her view—and they haven't even stuck her with the needle yet. A mask is held over her face, and her shallow breaths become more frantic.

"Calm down sweetie. It's just a quick poke so they can give you fluids," says Cameron as her face floats over Summer's.

"Hold her arm still," commands Doctor Rose, and several hands grip Summer's arm painfully. There's a quick poke, a few seconds of stinging pain, and then they cover her arm with some kind of clear tape. Summer's blue eyes dilate in fear as she waits for the drugs to take effect, but her world doesn't change shape. Her chest heaves, and her eyes dart around for the culprit of the punishment.

"It's all over with sweetie," says Cameron softly as the hands gripping Summer disappear. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

It's over? she thinks. That's it? They strap me down for this? She's still suspicious. Her heart slows, and her breathing begins to even out as she stares up at Cameron's brown eyes, curtained by her long, black hair.

"You see that bag there?" Cameron points at a bag hanging next to the bed. "That's fluids for you. It'll constantly drip through the IV and into your body. It will keep you hydrated. They took some of your blood so they can figure out what your blood type and genetic code are, and to check to make sure there isn't anything else wrong. Are you okay now?" She brushes a sweat-soaked piece of hair from Summer's cheek. "If you promise me you won't pull out the IV, I'll undo the straps, okay?"

Summer nods exhaustedly, her face pale and gaunt. She feels as if a part of her was extracted and shoved back in her upside down.

The straps come free, one at a time, and though the first thing she wants to do is yank the IV from her arm, she knows that worse things will happen if she does. In the corner of the room is a man in white scrubs with a needle, holding it up in the air as if he's preparing to pounce on her if she makes the wrong move.

"Hey everyone, let's let her have some time alone. We're scaring her," Cameron says and shoots the guy in the corner an unmistakable glare.

Soon the room is empty, and all Summer has is her thoughts and the steady beeping of the machine that monitors her heart, oxygen, and a few vital signs she doesn't know anything about. She tries to relax in the sudden silence.

An hour later, Doctor Rose returns with Cameron and food.

"Hello Summer," greets Doctor Rose. "I need to give you an exam. It won't hurt at all, I just need you to be cooperative. Is that okay?"

Are they asking her? She's not used to giving permission.

Cameron places the tray of food on a table and moves it out of the way. Summer sits up and feels the pull of the IV. Her eyes follow the line to the fluid bag that is now only three quarters full. Cameron gently places a hand on her shoulder, and she jerks out of reflex until she realizes it's just Cameron.

"Will you cooperate?" repeats Doctor Rose. Summer nods and hangs her legs off the bed.

The exam includes all her vital signs, her height and weight, and the measurements around her legs, arms, hips, and shoulders. Her head is rechecked, and everything's okay; the Jackerion's holding. They also extensively take note of her scars before they have her lie down and use a device that runs over her body and sends information to the Doctor—though she doesn't know what kind of information. Afterward, Cameron pulls the table over for Summer to eat. While Summer's busy shoveling potatoes into her mouth, she watches as Cameron and Doctor Rose talk animatedly next to the door. She can't hear anything they say, but knows it's about her.

When Summer's done, Doctor Rose takes note of how much she ate and leaves. Cameron stays behind for a few more minutes, taking a seat next to her bed.

"I know you're scared, Summer, and I'm sorry about that." Cameron takes a deep breath and then exhales heavily. "I'm just going to tell you a few things about where you're at. Maybe this will make you more comfortable?"

Summer takes a long sip of water, eyeing Cameron carefully.

Cameron clears her throat. "Okay . . . well, right now you are in the city of Phantomship, at the Phantomship Medical Institute, one of the top medical schools in the Federation, and the top hospital in the Californian Providence, also known as C.P. Outside your room is a guard for your protection, and the medical staff working on your case are aware of how you feel about people touching you and the fact you don't speak."

Cameron crosses her legs, turns slightly in Summer's direction, and tucks her black hair behind her ears. "I, um, don't know where Gage went. He won't respond to my calls." She sighs when she sees Summer's big, round sad eyes. "Listen, Summer, he told me you had a close-call with a man once."

Summer deposits her cup of water next to her bed and scrutinizes Cameron warily.

Cameron uncrosses her legs, leans forward, and stares up with her dark eyes. "When I was younger, something similar happened to me. Of course my life was nothing like yours, but that one thing I can relate to. Except it wasn't a close-call, and it's the reason why Paige called me a 'goldhole.'" Summer attempts to look innocent—that was from a conversation she had eavesdropped on. Cameron laughs lightly. "I know you were listening. Just . . . I can relate."

Summer continues to study Cameron's face, reading the truth in her eyes. It's not like her to want to reach out to someone—she prefers to be out of sight, observing everyone else. But after hearing Cameron's statement that she, too, was in the same state of panic and terror, her body being forcefully held down against her will . . . she can't help but want to reach out and comfort. She knows how it feels, how helpless you become. It's the worst feeling in the entire world. Summer extends her hand and opens her palm to Cameron. An offering. Cameron takes her hand, and they sit together for several moments, comforting each other.

"They've put me back on rotation for a few days," says Cameron softly. "So I'm going to be really busy. I would send Jaden over to keep you company, but she's already been released and sent to the Outlander camp here in Phantomship."

Summer frowns. She didn't think they would separate her from Jaden—but they did. And now who knows where Jaden's at. Maybe they'll never see each other again. She didn't even get the chance to thank her properly for rescuing her and trying to rescue Landon . . . and who knows where he's at.

Alone. She's all alone now.

"I'll come check on you later, okay?" says Cameron.

Summer gives a sharp tap on the table next to her bed, falls back onto the pillows, and stares at the ceiling again. She hears the distinct opening of the door and a tiny click as it slides closed. Time passes as she fades in and out of sleep, a few times the lights are turned off. Food is brought in, more exams are done, but overall the days are endlessly boring. Two days pass.

On the third day of her hospital stay, Doctor Rose enters with a grin spread across her face, her hawk-like eyes softened. "Well Summer, it looks like I have good news! Your tests have come back from this morning, and we can finally take that pesky IV out of your arm. How does that sound?"

Summer sits up and grins. She's practically bouncing in her seat as she holds her arm out. Doctor Rose places her hands inside a machine where skin-tight gloves are pulled onto her hands. She immediately pulls up a floating stool (another mystery Summer hasn't been able to solve, no matter how many times she runs her hand underneath it) and begins to disassemble the IV. She throws the pieces of the IV into a biomedical wastebasket on the wall that sucks the trash away.

"Lunch will be here soon," says Doctor Rose as she sends her gloves down the vacuum-like trash. Her bright, red hair is pulled into its usual bun at the nape of her neck, and her robust hips lose their shape as she turns toward the door, her lab coat almost to her knees. She glances over her shoulder and smiles at Summer as she puts her hand in front of the door.

It opens before Doctor Rose has a chance to move her hand, and just outside is Gage. Doctor Rose stops the door from fully opening and glances back at Summer again, her eyes apologetic. Summer, on the other hand, sits up straight and waits for Gage to enter. He said he would visit every day, even though he did leave abruptly from her room three days ago and hasn't seen him since. Summer can't help but be excited.

"Now's not a good time, Lieutenant Appleton," whispers Doctor Rose crossly.

Gage tries to peer around her, but she sways from side-to-side to stop him. "I need to see her," he says. "Please."

"You left here without saying anything to anyone, Appleton." Doctor Rose's voice lowers indignantly. "We had to strap her down to give her an IV!"

Gage quits his whack-a-mole routine to meet Doctor Rose's eyes. "Oh." He's taller than her so he's able to stare over her and right into Summer's eyes.

" 'Oh' is right. So I think it's best if you leave. Now."

"Whoa," a male voice says behind Gage. Summer can't see who it is. "Is that the Outlander everyone's talking about?"

Voices erupt right outside the door, and all Summer can see is the Doctor and Gage whispering through an argument. The door is only opened a few inches . . . a few inches too many.

"This is the Outlander's room?" someone asks.

"Are we helping them now?" sneers another voice.

The first male voice tells them to shut up, then says, "Dude, she's hot. Blonde hair, and from what I can tell, smokin' legs."

Summer gasps and covers her legs quickly, realizing her scrub-like bottoms have bunched at her knees. She pulls the covers all the way up to her chin as images of Jarvis assault her. She shudders and shakes uncontrollably.

Gage turns and punches someone before pivoting back like nothing happened. The situation outside becomes rowdy as more people begin to yell. Summer's heart starts to pick up its pace, the beeping monitor registering its speed. Doctor Rose pushes past Gage and starts to shout at the people outside.

"If you don't settle down I'll have the guards escort you out now! Any of my employees who are caught hanging outside my patient's door without my permission will lose their jobs!" exclaims Doctor Rose with authority. "Is that clear?"

Gage squeezes through the door with a wary grin on his face. The door slides shut behind him. His alluring green eyes gaze pleadingly at her. He's wearing his uniform again: dark green jacket, black undershirt and pants, and tall, black boots. What he holds in his hand is a stark color difference to his appearance, but it's the most beautiful thing Summer's ever seen.
CHAPTER 21: ROSE

16 years old

Gage takes several tentative steps in Summer's direction with his hand outstretched, holding the strikingly red flower with its long, green stem. Her sapphire eyes flicker between his apologetic face and the flower in his hand. She isn't afraid of him; she's actually delighted that he's here. With the IV no longer a burden, she bounces to her feet and meets him halfway, startling him. She stops a foot in front of him, and a grin twitches on her face, waiting for him to say something. She doesn't know what has gotten into her.

"This is for you," whispers Gage, "my Flower." He tilts the red flower, with all its perfectly aligned petals, her direction. "Careful of the thorns."

She gingerly takes it from him, avoiding any thorns, and holds it to her nose. It smells so sweet she can't help but breathe in its essence, its flavor, its overwhelming trace of beauty hidden within the petal's fragrance. She reaches for Gage's hand, which he offers freely. She writes quickly, "What's it called?"

"It's a rose," he says. "I feel horrible about walking out the other day. There's just so much on my mind, and I was trying to think of a way to help you." His hands rake through his hair, and his cheeks flush.

She puts the rose to her nose again and inhales the perfume that smells almost like—ironically enough—Doctor Rose. Well, beneath all the antiseptic, that is. Summer turns around, walks over to her hospital bed, and sits. Gage stands awkwardly in the middle of the room until she gestures for him to come and sit in the seat next to her bed. He smiles as he makes his way over, pulling his green uniform jacket off and hanging it on the back of the chair.

"You look much better," he notes. "How do you feel?" He sits and holds his palm out to her.

She places the rose on the table. Then holds his hand with both of hers, smiling at the normalness of it all, like the one day they spent together is the beginning of a whole relationship. "I feel rested and full," she writes.

His smile only grows, dimples forming. "That's good."

When she doesn't respond, silence spreads out like a choking mist, and both of their smiles disappear. She doesn't know what to write in his palm, and he seems lost too. Her hands become a little sweaty, but she doesn't let him go.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out, startling her. "I just got . . . scared. I thought if I left the room and never saw you again that my life would go back to normal. You would be sent to an Outlander camp, and I would be out in the field again. I could just . . . forget you."

A few seconds tick by as Summer lets his words roll around in her mind. Her heart squeezes uncomfortably, but how she should feel, what kinds of emotions she should be having right now, she isn't sure. Her finger touches his palm and hesitates. Then she writes, "Why did you come back if you wanted to forget me?"

"Because I couldn't," he whispers, his hypnotizing green eyes holding her gaze. "I tried, but there was no way."

"Why?" she writes.

"Maybe it's because I'm some macho ass," he says with a short, unamused laugh. "But I thought about your situation and the things you've gone through. Then I thought about what happened in the cave, and I knew then that I couldn't just walk away. Not now. Not anymore."

She remembers the cave incident too, where she clung to him and cried all the tears she so frequently holds inside. She flushes over the memory, embarrassed by her actions. She looks away from his gaze and down to the sterile, white floor.

"Hey," he says softly and stands, pulling his hand from hers. He tilts her chin up and forces her to look at him. He swallows thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing. "You let me hold you when it was the last thing you wanted. You cried out, even though you feared what kind of punishment would follow. You trusted me when you didn't trust anyone else. It's male macho crap, but you made such a huge impact on me. And now?" He sighs. "I can't get you out of my head. After that there is no way." He takes a step back, letting go of her chin. "Will you forgive me?"

She is breathless from his speech, but is able to nod slowly. Each of his words sinks into her skin and makes her tingle with this new, raw emotion. She has yet to figure out what the name of it is. Maybe admiration? No, that isn't right. Then, with blinding realization, she knows what it is. Affection.

I have feelings for him. She snatches the rose up and brings it to her nose again, inhaling deeply.

"I'm glad you like the rose." He chuckles, still unsure. "I can't stay here long, but I did want to tell you that Jaden's fine. She's adjusting to the Outlander camp with no problems." Summer's relieved at the news. "And . . ." He hesitates. "I wanted to ask if it's okay if I come back tomorrow?"

She raps her knuckles once on the table, and he immediately grins, the worry lines around his eyes smoothing.

"Tomorrow it is," says Gage happily.

Tomorrow, she agrees silently.
CHAPTER 22: RENDEZVOUS

16 years old

Every day Gage comes by with another rose, all of them dark red. And every day Summer learns to trust him a little more. Doctor Rose was reluctant at first about his visits, but she's so astounded by Summer's progress when he's there that she requests him to come by twice a day. If it were Cameron's choice, he'd be the guard outside the door. He can't always visit twice a day, but today he promises something special for her. It's her last day in the hospital; Doctor Rose says that she's finally gained enough weight after her near-starvation, and her blood work is showing normal levels on all accounts. The only thing that still stumps Doctor Rose is her lack of blood type and no genetic code. Doctor Rose promises to get to the bottom of it, even if she has to search through "dusty medical books" for hours.

Cameron stops by Summer's room in the afternoon on her twelfth day in the hospital. Summer hasn't seen her in a week, so she's surprised by the visit.

"I heard the good news," Cameron says as she plops down in the chair, though Summer leans against the wall that was once a window. "Today's your last day here. I'm glad you're doing so well; when I first saw you on the beach I was really afraid we weren't going to get you back in time."

This news scares Summer because she didn't know how bad she was before now. This is the best she's felt in a very long time, so she's grateful for everything these strangers have done for her. Though they really don't feel like strangers anymore.

"Anyway, I heard that you and Gage have been rendezvousing." Cameron's fingers trail around the vase of roses.

Summer looks away, her face flushing as she leans against the wall. She doesn't know what rendezvousing means, but it sounds dirty.

"He's a good guy, Summer," Cameron says. "I just wanted to tell you thanks for giving him a second chance."

Summer pushes off the wall and hops onto the bed.

"And I'm here to warn you about tomorrow," Cameron continues. "I know Gage hasn't told you much about what's going on outside the hospital. He doesn't want to make you any more anxious than you already are."

Warn? Their eyes meet and Cameron shrugs.

"People don't like the Outlanders, Summer. It's dangerous out there for someone like you. Did Doctor Rose give you the neural transplant?"

Summer turns her head to the side to show Cameron the device in her ear. They put it in a few days ago, and as requested by Gage, they left out the telepathic part. It's mainly for show so when she leaves people will be less likely to consider her an Outlander, since that's the first thing they look for to distinguish them.

"Good," says Cameron with a nod. "I'll be here tomorrow, and so will some of the other soldiers. We're going to dress you in all black so you don't stand out. We have everything on our side prepared for your transport to the Outlander camp. But I need you to be mentally prepared for this. Okay?" Cameron places her hand on Summer's forearm. "If this is going to be a challenge, Doctor Rose can give you a drug that will relax you, if you want."

Summer gives a sharp nod, hoping to stay far away from any needles.

"I've got a patient I need to attend to, but I'll see you tomorrow, all right? Have fun with all your rendezvousing!" Cameron stands and strides toward the door, not noticing Summer's blush. Before she exits, she smiles over her shoulder and says, "You are the easiest person to talk to, you know?"

Summer returns the smile, and Cameron slides her palm across the front of the door, opening it.

Later that evening, Gage shows up with bags full of stuff. He's wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt with black, grunge-like designs on it. He explained before that fashion changes dramatically, but jeans and T-shirts haven't changed at all. Simplicity at it's best.

Summer hops off the bed and rushes towards him.

"Hey," he says cheerfully. "I brought you a few things."

Her eyes go wide at the news. She points at herself in question because receiving gifts is still a foreign concept to her.

"Yes, for you." He drops the bags and opens his arms in greeting.

Summer still hesitates at the gesture, but only for a fraction of a second before she wraps her arms around his waist. He smells clean and rich with a fragrance that Summer hasn't been able to place. She has settled with calling it just Gage or Gage-like—it's his scent and no one else's. They embrace for a few seconds before they separate and he immediately reaches into the bags.

"Here are some real clothes," he says and hands her a pile of clothing. They are new and colorful . . . and beautiful. She has never owned anything as nice as this before in her entire life. She can't help but spin around with the treasure in her hands. He also hands her a small black bag. She immediately unzips it and rummages through the contents.

"Cameron told me you were looking at the makeup on the models on the Astropad. She said you might like it. It's okay if you don't. . . ."

Summer's smile widens even farther. Gage chuckles at her reaction and points her in the direction of the bathroom.

"Try them on. I want to make sure they fit." He's just as giddy as she is. "Oh, and take this with you too. Cameron bought this for you. I'm not sure what it is; she told me not to look."

With her hands loaded, she rushes toward the bathroom. Inside, she looks at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks are fuller now, her bones no longer jutting out in awkward angles, and her blonde hair looks shinier and fuller. She's amazed by the improvement over the last two weeks. Curious as to what's in Cameron's bag, she opens it first. Inside are all different kinds of undergarments. They are just as new and pretty as the clothes. She's positive this is the best day of her life—or as Jaden said before, she hit the jackpot!

Almost ripping off the stupid hospital attire, she tosses it across the bathroom, dances around as she pulls on a pair of underwear, and fiddles with several different bras until she finds the easiest to put on. Next, she pulls on a pair of dark jeans that fit snuggly against her body. It's surprisingly comfortable considering how constricting they are. Next, she pulls on a bright red shirt that matches the many roses Gage has brought her. This makes her pause . . . he didn't bring a rose today. But he did bring other gifts. She shouldn't be expecting anything from him, really.

Once she's dressed, she lays out the multitude of makeup. It's nothing like the stuff she's seen in magazines back on the ship. The girls here are feisty with their tastes. She goes for black first, barely touching the stuff around her eyes. According to the picture on the outside it should be a lot heavier and cover a lot more of her face, but she likes just the tiny bit she already put on. She considers wiping all of it off in the first place, but decides it brings out the blue in her eyes and keeps it. There's also a device for her to polish her nails. She follows the instructions thoroughly and places each of her fingers into the slots. It buzzes. She pulls her hand free, and her fingernails are now a bright red. This excites her so much she giggles aloud, hoping no one outside can hear her. By the time she's done, the whole bathroom's a disaster.

When she finally exits, she becomes confused. The lights are dimmed low, and there are roses everywhere. Her mouth falls open, and she shakes with . . . elation, happiness, joy perhaps? No one has ever done anything like this for her. Not. Ever. Not in the short sixteen years of her life.

"Surprise," Gage murmurs from beside her, and she jumps, startled. He laughs lightly. "I didn't mean to scare you."

She shakes her head slowly, letting her eyes roam over the room one more time, taking in every last square inch of breathtaking red, the aroma of the roses filling her nose with delight. What does this mean? Why would he do this? She doesn't deserve any of it. It's just too much. Too, too much. She reaches for Gage blindly, her eyes unable to move away from the scene before her, and pulls him in for a hug. She squeezes him with all her might, hoping to convey her overwhelming happiness over what he's done for her.

He rakes his hand through her hair softly and breaths into it. "There's more," he whispers.

She almost speaks her surprise; she actually looks up at him and mouths, "What?" Automatically, her lips seal tight.

Gage only smiles down at her, captivated by her reaction to it all. He doesn't know how monumental even mouthing words are. "I brought a movie—and shall tell you that I'm still not a fan of this Maddox actor, his work is still rather splashy, honestly, but the girls all love him. You aren't like anyone I've met, but I still think you'll love this movie."

She bites her lip, still in a state of disbelief, but manages to give him her Thankful Face.

"By the way"—his voice lowers—"you look beautiful."

She flushes the color of the roses.

"Take a seat," he says, gesturing to the bed. She sits and watches as he sets up the device that Cameron used inside the cave. He presses a few buttons on it before a hologram lights up the dim room. He backs up and sets up four more of these devices around her bed until it's like she's in another world. She spins around on the bed, taking it all in.

He makes his way over to her and grins. "The movie is called The Afterglow." He begins to take a seat in the chair next to her bed, but she stops him by patting next to her. His eyebrows raise at the gesture, and her eyes go wide, realizing what she's ultimately asking. Her mind frantically tries to think of what it really means to invite him to sit next to her where she sleeps.

"Are you sure?" he asks uncertainly. She thinks about it for a minute, unbelieving that she just invited him to sit on her bed, but finally decides it's what she wants after all. She nods her head slowly, and a smile breaks across his face. He joins her on the bed and everything suddenly becomes awkward.

"Trust me?" he asks, wanting to break the tension that suddenly fills the air, her nerves like a tightly wound coil ready to snap under the stress.

She nods again. Gage scoots back on the bed, lies down, and holds his arm out, offering her a spot next to him. This is all new for her, and she clearly doesn't know how to react. Landon has held her before, but never lying down in her bed. Never . . . romantically. What does this mean? She can't align her thoughts but Gage waits patiently.

"I'll be good," he promises with a grin that tries not to falter at her state of uncertainty. Colors swirl around them as the screen illuminates with flashing iridescence.

She takes a deep breath and finally drops down next to him. He wraps his arm around her, and she cuddles close, wanting and needing his nearness. There's just something about Gage that fascinates her . . . and sends her stomach a flutter. It's not that she isn't excited about seeing this movie with him. It's the fact she can't concentrate on anything but watching the steady up and down movements of his chest. He's so gentle with her—so careful. She waits for the panic to hit, for the memories of Jarvis to slam into her head with the hammering of a thousand rocks being thrown at her. It's right on the edge of her mind, waiting for the right moment to strike, but Gage's fingers trail softly along her arm, and the sensation sends her thoughts spinning wildly in another direction. Her heart thumps hard against her ribcage, but it isn't in panic . . . or anxiety. What does this mean? she wonders for the millionth time. What is this feeling?

The movie starts, and the room comes alive. It's literally like they're sitting in the middle of the scene; she's able to take in every last detail. The hospital room has completely vanished from sight, and all there is, is she and Gage in the middle of a romantic movie. Her breathing becomes heavier, all the new sensations and feelings overwhelming her. She wants to stay in his arms, but at the same time she's not sure how this whole thing is supposed to work. Is she just supposed to lie there? Or are they going to kiss?

Oh no, she realizes suddenly, I've never kissed a boy before. What if I do it wrong? What if I'm bad at it? What if that isn't what I'm supposed to do and I ruin everything? Her muscles are no longer relaxed but tense with anxiety again. She knows it's her fault for her reactions, but what else is she to do? This is all so new to her.

Gage notices the change in her immediately. "Are you okay, Flower?"

This makes her pause. Flower is a nickname Gage recently started calling her. She still has reservations about this nickname because the first time he said it he said "my Flower." The whole idea that she is anyone's anything doesn't settle well with her. She's Summer, herself, not owned by anyone anymore. But the way he says it, all tender and sweet, makes her smile at the fact that she is his Flower. She has it bad. . . .

She nods against his shoulder and decides to just relax and enjoy the entertainment around them. Tomorrow she goes to the Outlander camp, so she wants to relish in this state of bliss as much as she can.

Is that what this is? she wonders. Bliss?

In the movie, the clock on the wall chimes twelve times for midnight.
CHAPTER 23: DEPARTURE

16 years old

The slot slams shut, metal clinking against metal, as brown eyes disappear behind it. The whip cuts through the air and imbeds itself into my skin. I scream, unable to stop myself. I know my mistake will cost me another lashing, one more brutal than the last. Still, I cry out in overwhelming agony—over and over, the whip only licking deeper into my already bleeding wounds. If I don't scream, the whip will stop, but I can't stop screaming.

"Summer! Summer? Hey!"

Her lungs heave, gulping down oxygen with all their might. Her eyes fly open, and the room's dark. One of the walls begins to faintly glow, and in the dimness she can make out Gage's distressed expression. She's confused by her location, but her mind eventually begins to align with reality. There's a blanket over her and Gage who has a crease on his face from sleep. She doesn't remember falling asleep and takes deep, shuddering breaths as many scenarios play out in her mind.

"You screamed," says Gage softly, tension straining his voice. His hand rakes through his hair, and Summer recoils, waiting for him to lash out for her mistake. He freezes with his hand on his neck, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "I was worried," he whispers, his words hesitant, like he's unsure if it's the right thing to say.

Summer searches his face for any lies, but can't find anything hidden in the depths of his eyes. Her heart slows as the dream's effects wear off, and she falls back toward the bed, her whole body shaky and sweaty. Gage, still sitting up, gazes down at her, his eyes an emerald fire in the dark. "I guess we both fell asleep. I'm . . . sorry." His voice is low and soft, like velvet caressing her skin.

Silence wraps around them, though it's comfortable and strangely inviting. It's one of those moments where the man is supposed to slowly bend over and place a kiss on the girl's lips. At least, that's how it happens in books (and movies). She actually anticipates it, but Gage is too apprehensive when it comes to her. There are triggers that he hasn't figured out yet. She hasn't figured them out yet, either. Barely touching her back made her break down in his arms in the cave. She understands his hesitation, but just this once she wishes that he would throw caution to the wind and just kiss her already. But it doesn't happen.

He sweetly brushes hair from her slightly sweaty face and smiles shyly at her. "What was your dream—nightmare about?" His lips turn down as he becomes serious. He holds out his palm, and this time he's the one that's tentative about it.

She slowly, and carefully, writes into his palm, "A memory." She doesn't look up to see his reaction as she decides how to explain this to him. He already knows how scarred she is, how badly she was tortured. But really, no one truly knows. Not until they are tortured too, do they understand the full ramifications of what it means to be tortured, what the psychological damage really is. Cameron may talk about it, she's even right about most of it, but it's still all talk. The outside scars are only superficial; no one can comprehend just how deeply those scars run into her veins and poison her mind and body. She may never be able to act like a normal girl again, and she hates that.

She pauses for so long that Gage presses the subject by asking, "A memory?" You can see the fear filter into the lines of his face as the color drains from his cheeks. If only he could understand the absolute fear she feels. Every time he reaches out, every quick or unexpected movements has her stomach twisting into knots, her arms begging to raise to protect her face for the blow that's surely to come. And no matter what she knows about Gage, or how gentle, sweet, kind, and tender he is to her, she will still have the overwhelming, absolute need to recoil, duck, and protect herself. Even then it only makes her anxiety coil with tension at what the consequences of protecting herself might be.

"When I was four," she begins to write slowly, "I was whipped until I didn't make a sound." She decides to leave it at that—Jaden explained it better on the beach. The dream-memory's still fresh in her mind, like an open, pulsing wound. There is no reason to pour and grind salt into it.

"Oh." The word is so quiet, yet it manages to echo in the room, almost tauntingly. "I wish I could erase those memories from your mind and heal the scars that contaminate your skin."

She wishes he could too.

A minute ticks by, their eyes locked. Now the silence is like a growing tumor, painful in its escalation. The question hangs in the air, almost visible between them. Should he stay, or should he go? It's Summer that makes the final decision and beckons him forward. The shy smile is back as Gage lowers himself to the bed and automatically pulls her against his body. After a few deep, steadying breaths, she lets him comfort her instead of letting those memories of Jarvis taint their moment. He gently strokes her back until she falls back into a, thankfully, dreamless sleep. Gage is quickly becoming her sanctuary.

The next morning Summer wakes to find Gage missing and breakfast waiting for her. All of the gifts he brought for her are packed back into the bags next to the chair, and her roses, some of them wilting, are on the table next to the door. She's curious as to when this was all done and amazed it didn't wake her. She's usually a light sleeper. Even though she had a locked door on the ship, she still felt like she always slept with one eye open, waiting for the next form of punishment to come if she didn't wake in time to start her daily duties. Several times in the past two weeks she has woken in a state of panic, thinking she had overslept and that the Captain would have one of his crew come in at any second with his belt ready, or worse, a cigarette in hand.

She still wears the clothes from yesterday but doesn't want to take them off. They are the single nicest thing she has ever owned—or remembers owning. So she takes a shower and uses the products the hospital provides to get cleaned up and hangs her clothes in the bathroom so the steam will hopefully unwrinkle them. When she steps from the shower, her clothes are neatly folded and clean. She can't help but glance around the bathroom, wondering when someone came in and how they had the time to actually clean her clothes. Things in the future work differently than what she's used to, and you never know what to expect from day to day. Every time the Doctor or a nurse throws gloves in the trash, and they get sucked away, she jumps in surprise.

When she's finally dressed, she steps outside her room to see several members of the Canadian League. She freezes, knowing that today she's to be escorted to one of the Outlander camps, but not positive if this is why everyone gathers in her room. Gage is talking swiftly with one of the soldiers she hasn't seen before. He appears to be older than Gage, but not by much. He has short brown hair and baby blue eyes. He's not as tall as Gage, but is much taller than Landon's five foot eight. His smile is bright when he sees Summer for the first time.

"Ah, so this is the young lady who has broke our Lieutenant?" he says brightly. "I didn't realize you'd be so small."

Summer doesn't know how to feel about the situation around her. There are too many people, and she only recognizes Cameron and Gage. She begins to tremble and back away.

"Don't crowd her, guys," says Cameron quickly when she catches Summer's frightened blue eyes.

"Flower, you didn't eat your breakfast," teases Gage disapprovingly.

Summer flushes a brilliant red at him calling her "Flower" in the middle of all the big soldiers. She looks down in embarrassment for the nickname and shame for the uneaten breakfast. She's not used to eating so much, and the hospital staff makes sure she eats three times a day. Three times! Gage carefully makes his way over to her and takes her hand. She lets him without flinching and secretly pats her back at how well she's doing. Though, when the new guy comes closer to introduce himself, she actually attempts to hide behind Gage and use him as a shield.

"Hi, Summer." The man chuckles. "I'm Ethan." He holds his hand out for her to shake. Summer recoils at the same time her heart skips in her chest. She swallows thickly and attempts to melt into the floor so no one can see her.

"All right, Ethan. Let's leave the poor girl alone," Gage reprimands. "Summer?" he questions and turns toward her. "How about you eat breakfast while we explain your transport to the Outlander camp, okay?"

She nods as he leads her to the table and chair. Cameron sits on the bed while Gage stands like a sentry next to her. She feels like she's a prisoner and a princess all at once. Maybe they're the same thing.

"Everyone, this is Summer Waverly," introduces Cameron. "She's a sixteen year old girl from the past. We found her shipwrecked on the beach. From what we've found out, she was a slave and has been through a great deal of torture." Her voice amplifies with authority. "She doesn't speak and does not deal well with people touching her, especially males." She points at a few of them, and from Summer's point of view, it looks like she's stabbing them.

Summer takes a bite of toast while eyeing the soldiers. The taste is absent, her mind not focusing on anything except those around her.

"Summer?" Cameron turns to her, and she freezes mid-bite. "This splashy piece of work is Hunter." She gestures toward a man with russet hair and stormy grey eyes. His skin is dark with a red tint, as if he's been burned by the sun. He's incredibly physically fit, and his face is hard like a soldier's, but the hard lines soften around his eyes. He gives her a small wave of his hand. Summer's thankful he didn't attempt to shake her hand like Ethan did.

"And this is Emma and Zoe," says Cameron as she points to two girls in the corner. Their looks are the opposite, one with blonde hair, the other with dark brown, though their mannerisms are identical. They both also give a small wave in greeting. Summer glances down, taking another bite of her tasteless toast.

Cameron continues, "Just so you Leaguers can understand Summer better, she has been 'trained,' if you will, using negative reinforcement to respond differently to movements, gestures, objects, etcetera, than you or I would."

"You're speaking gibberish," Ethan calls out, a chuckle still edging his voice.

Cameron lets out an exasperated breath. "It means she doesn't speak, because in the past she learned that if she didn't make any noise the punishments would stop." Incoherent mutterings break out through the room, and Summer catches many of their faces looking pitying at her. "It also means that sudden movements usually correlate with being hit or whipped for her."

Summer hates that she's being talked about like she isn't even in the room, but she's so used to it that it doesn't even affect her anymore. She takes another bite of her tasteless toast.

"Here's what the plan is, everyone," says Gage, his voice commanding. "Transporting Summer will not be easy, not with the religious groups protesting in the streets. The reason why I have requested so many guards for her is the fact that she has been in the hospital for two weeks, and it hasn't been a secret. You've seen the news—people are not happy that an Outlander is receiving treatment outside of the camps' medical facilities. The last thing we need is to have an Outlander killed in transport due to our negligence."

Summer chokes on her toast, her face turning red with each cough. Gage pats her back absentmindedly, and the action causes her to duck and hold her arm up, all the while choking. Kill? Did he just say kill? She shrinks down even lower as everyone stands around her, silent and unmoving. Gage's hand is held in mid-air, not sure what he should do as Summer coughs and gags until she finally catches her breath.

"Summer?" whispers Gage while peeking at her under the table. Her arm's still held over her head. "Flower?" His voice is gentle. He offers his palm to her and it's like reality snaps back into place. She lowers her arm and takes his palm, her heart still vaulting like a gymnast.

She writes one word on his palm: "Kill?"

"Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you—especially that." Truth resonates in his voice, and she can't help but believe him. He hasn't lied thus far.

"Wow," says Ethan, his smiling, chuckling persona gone. "I guess I didn't completely believe you until now." He shakes his head. "Who would do something like this to someone so . . . small and vulnerable?"

"The splashiest piece of splash," growls Gage angrily. He helps Summer from the floor—she doesn't realize how far she has sunk until he's practically pulling her out from underneath the chair. Once she's seated again, Gage stands to his full height and says, "This is another reason we need so many guards. If anyone lashes out, touches her, or does anything to scare her, she . . ." he trails off, and Summer chances a glance up at his face. He's glaring at the ground as if it has personally offended him, all the while rubbing his jaw in concentration.

"Any intense state of trauma can cause severe physical and mental damage to her," Cameron continues for him. "She could have a heart attack, become catatonic, or could go into a state of shock. If the last happens, and she's physically hurt, we might not know it, which can be fatal if we're unaware."

"Exactly," agrees Gage. "This is not acceptable. Therefore we must transport her with the utmost care." He reaches down into one of the bags next to her chair and pulls free a black shirt and green and black jacket. "To make our jobs easier, we will be placing her in military clothing. Because it's illegal to impersonate a soldier, there are slight flaws in the jacket. Most people won't notice her as an Outlander, especially with her neural implant, but all it takes is one person to point it out to the rest for things to go south fast. So let's make this quick, and hopefully event free. The hovercar won't be far from the entrance, but the media are staking out the place for a glimpse of this all-important Outlander. So we had to park it farther out as to not warrant attention. Doctor Rose has promised that no one knows today is her last, but as soon as people see her leave, they might immediately contact the media. We can't have that—but it is bound to happen. Be prepared."

"Yes, Sir!" they all chant.

Gage squats next to Summer, and their eyes lock. She reaches for the hand holding the black shirt and wraps her fingers around it. His lips twitch up, though he's really trying to struggle to even attempt a smile, she notices. Something is upsetting him, and she hates that she doesn't know what it is so she can fix it. "Take this bag here into the bathroom and get changed." His finger traces her face, his frown only deepening. "If it were up to me, I'd hold your hand the whole time, Flower—but that will look suspicious. Are you going to be able to handle this?" His voice is full of sincerity.

She bites her lip and conveys with her eyes how unsure she really is about the whole departure.

"You owe me three hundred bucks," twangs one girl to the other—Summer's not sure which one's Emma and which is Zoe.

"And everyone said no girl could break him," sighs the other girl theatrically. Both of them have very thick, southern-American accents.

Ethan and Hunter exchange eyebrow raises and begin to laugh.

"Go on, get changed," Gage says to Summer before standing and facing his comrades. Through the door Summer can hear them talking about her—though, surprisingly, none of them have anything bad to say.

"I really like her," Ethan says, his voice boisterous and full of humor.

"Me too," agrees one of the girls, twanging hardcore with her accent. "I'm just worried how she'll react at the camp."

"If it was up to me there would be no camps—the whole institution is just ridiculous!" rages Hunter.

"Trust me," Cameron cuts in, "I think we all agree on the Outlander camp splash going on." She sighs heavily enough that Summer can hear it through the door. "I'm just glad she's doing better than when we first found her."

"Oh, man," says Gage dejectedly. "She giggled and thought I was going to beat her for it. I still can't get that image out of my mind, her cowering in utter terror that any second I would strike."

"Are you sure the camp is a good idea for her?" one of the southern girls asks seriously. "I mean, isn't there another alternative?"

"I've thought of everything, and all the options I want to choose are illegal," explains Gage wearily. "And we know those aren't really options anyway. At least not right now."
CHAPTER 24: RIOT

16 years old

The air is thick with a mix between apprehension and anticipation. Gage explains to Summer that he must be up front since he's the commanding officer; it'll just look weird and suspicious if he stands next to her while other Leaguers walk ahead of him. Gage gently strokes her cheek with the tip of his finger, caressing down to her lips and hesitating at the corner. His eyes are intense as he looks between her gazing blue eyes and her red, perfectly pouty lips. He gives a tiny nod and backs away, moving toward the door. The rest of the soldiers close in around her, which instantly makes her breath pick up.

Cameron smiles encouragingly at her, the dark-haired girl, who she finally found out is named Emma, takes up flank on her other side. Though Summer does feel more comfortable with females, even they make her nervous. Gage opens the door with a slide of his hand and exits, followed by Hunter, his russet hair shining under the hospital's bright lights.

"Here we go," says Cameron under her breath and steps forward.

Summer keeps pace with her and, once on the other side of the door, Emma makes sure to fill any space between Summer and the hospital's busy staff and visitors to her left. Cameron's still a constant guard to her left. Ethan and Zoe follow behind so quietly Summer constantly looks back to make sure they're still there. She sees many curious glances focus on the now closed hospital door they just came from, the people in the hospital don't even glance into the blur of uniforms that stride past.

She can't help but take heaving breaths as Gage quietly speaks encouraging words to her. "You're okay, Flower. No one even notices you're with us."

"Deep, steadying breaths," coaxes Cameron next to her. "You'll blow our cover if I have to stop to give you oxygen. We'll make it through this."

They enter into a small room like the one she was in when she was first brought here. Inside she feels claustrophobic and isn't sure why they are in there in the first place. When the door slides shut and her stomach flies up into her throat, she reaches for Gage's palm and quickly writes, "What is this room?"

He roars with laughter and glances back at her. "It's an elevator. Did they not have these two hundred years ago?" Wrinkles march up his forehead in question.

"Of course they did," says Zoe behind her.

The doors slide open to reveal the reception area of the hospital. Then it all makes sense. Gage chuckles at her expression—he can see the understanding in her eyes. They exit the elevator in somewhat of an orderly human shield around Summer. She's able to see around them enough to glimpse at the chaos that awaits just outside the hospital's doors. People crowd the front doors holding signs with scrolling words like, "It's the Exodus all over again!" and "Protect our children, kill the savages!" and "Outlanders are demons!" She almost stops mid-stride, but Cameron pushes her forward, a serious expression straightening the lines of her face.

"Keep it tight," orders Gage.

They all move closer to Summer, and she beings to feel like she'll suffocate. Doors slide open and guards salute Gage as they pass. The masses outside are screaming and yelling obscenities, the word splash is . . . well, splashed all over the scrolling signs. Her heart triples its beats as they enter into the discord.

"It's her!" someone shouts and voices rise in a massive tidal wave of heated fury. Fingers begin to point in her direction, and the media swarms them.

"It's the Outlander!" a female spits out.

The media is quickly overtaken by the fanatical religious groups with their "God kills Outlanders" signs, and their eyes a proverbial piercing pitchfork in her forehead. It's a riot gone wild.

Emma is pushed violently into Summer who can't take it anymore. Her heart is about to explode and sweat beads on her forehead. She wraps her arms around her head and ducks down, hiding from the massive amount of people who want to hurt her.

He said "kill."

She panics, trembling, and falls to the ground, trying her best to fold into herself and disappear into the ether. Emma is on the ground with her, doing her best to use her body as a shield. Cameron's shouting at someone over her head, but at this point words are nothing but blurs of noise. All she can hear is her pounding heart, the world ripping and tearing her away from reality. Emma's weight is snatched away from her and suddenly something hard slams into her back. Summer doesn't cry out—she knows it won't do any good. The Captain once told her she was the best-trained slave he had ever owned just because of her incredible silence. She refuses to succumb to the protestors efforts of trying to make her cry out.

Something pulls her hair, and it feels as if her locks will rip from her skull, along with her skin. Gage shouts close by, his voice an angry, fiery storm. Something else slams into her back, and she feels the impact all the way in the depths of her nerves, spreading along her body. The force and pain causes her to collapse on the ground. Someone kicks her in the arm, missing her ribs. In the distance she can hear shouts, whistles going off, horns blowing, alarms blaring, but that doesn't stop the next blow to her hip. She grits her teeth and attempts to pull herself into the fetal position again.

I guess he did lie; I am going to die out here today. As soon as she thinks it, Gage is suddenly hovering over her, his voice a hazy static noise in her ear. She's pretty sure something hit her head hard enough to make her dizzy. Her body leaves the ground as his arms grip her. She recognizes Gage's scent as her head bounces against his chest. She can hear the rumble of his voice against her ear, but it's all incoherent.

Then all noise fades into a silent crescendo of colors and bright lights. A light passes over her blue eyes. Someone's face comes into view, and their mouth moves, words form, and Summer can hear none of it. Her mind is shutting down, one area at a time, and she can't even comprehend words, sounds, or recognize faces. Her muscles jerk and tighten until they strain uncomfortably. Even the pain that should accompany this, her mind finds a way to block it out. A light passes over her eyes again, and she closes them, hoping it'll just go away. Maybe it'll all just go away. . . .
The distinction between the past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.

Albert Einstein

PART TWO

OUTLANDER
CHAPTER 25: TEAR

16 years old

Her eyes flutter, and she's somewhere else, sitting awkwardly in a chair. She shakes her head and looks around the room. It's not recognizable. The wood paneling walls, porcelain sink, and tiled floor is spotless. The counter around the sink is full of medical supplies she remembers seeing every day in the hospital. Gage is pacing back and forth, muttering, one hand rubbing angrily at his neck, the other pulling at his hair. She's never seen such a frustrated look on his face before and isn't sure how to handle him in this state. Should she try to gain his attention? And what if that's the wrong decision.

She watches him do another round of pacing, talking to himself with teeth gritted. He abruptly stops and pivots her direction, almost running to the chair she's sitting in. He seizes the arms of the chair, places his nose inches from hers, and yells, "Please just wake up!" His sudden movements make her back as far as she can into the chair.

"Oh . . . thank you," he cries, and she blinks at him. "Flower?" His voice is tentative, his fingers a soft caress down her cheek. She leans into his touch automatically and he yanks her from the chair and hugs her so tightly her feet leave the floor. "You're okay!"

She isn't sure about that; his hug hurts a lot! Like a whole hell of a lot. A tiny cry escapes her lips, and he immediately drops her back to the ground, keeping his arms around her.

"Sorry! Did that hurt?" he asks, worried.

She nods, her memory finally catching up to speed with the rest of her. She remembers it all except after Gage picked her up. Everything after that is a blur of lights and colors. She trembles at the memories, all the people attacking her, all the people wanting to hurt her . . . all those people who assaulted her. Then Gage saving her. Again.

"Cameron," calls Gage, and the door flies open as if she'd been sitting outside waiting for an invite.

"What'd you do?" asks Cameron, her eyes widening at the two of them.

"Nothing—she just snapped out of it," explains Gage, his voice excited. "But I think we should do another exam on her now that she's awake—just to make sure we caught all her injuries," he adds, upset.

"Yes," says Cameron slowly, "the scanner showed extensive damage to her ribs, arm, skull, and hip bones. Summer, we've already mended your bones, but there will be extensive bruising in those areas, and your bones might feel sore for a few days. There was no swelling in your brain—the biggest thing was to find a way to pull you from your state of catatonia. Which Gage did somehow." She smiles, relief flooding her brown eyes.

Summer, on the other hand, just feels more confused. Gage glances down at her, his arms still tightly wound around her, and frowns at her drawn together eyebrows.

"You better explain to her what happened," says Cameron seriously.

Gage walks her backward until the back of her legs meet the chair, and she automatically sits. He crouches in front of her and takes her hands into his. "Listen, Flower. You've been out of it for several days."

Summer shakes her head at his words, not comprehending. Days?

"It's true," he continues, "your mind shut down after the rioters attacked you. I'm so, so sorry. I should've demanded transport on the roof, but my commanding officer declined my request. I should've fought him. This is all my fault, and I was so caught up in the wave of people that I couldn't get to you." She can actually see the sadness beginning to make his eyes shine. Is he going to cry? "I thought I was going to lose you." And a single tear escapes one of his too-green eyes, and Summer catches it with her finger. Her lungs constrict, and her stomach knots with tingling butterflies. She examines the solitary tear on her finger, and then his face, reading the sincerity there. This single, salty tear on her finger was shed for her—only for her.

The door clicks shut, and Summer knows that, even without looking, Cameron has left to give them privacy.

Summer's hand closes into a fist, the tear absorbing into her skin. No one cries for her . . . not even Landon. Yet here is this man with his clean-shaven face, hypnotic green eyes, and achingly beautiful heart shedding a tear for her. She's so astonished, if she did speak, she would have been struck dumb.

He watches her every action with all the intensity of those angelic eyes. She feels like her heart is working overtime to rush blood to her fluttering, excited stomach and constricting lungs as she takes in several sharp intakes of breath, his can-only-be-Gage scent filling her nose with sweetness. She cups his face between her palms and makes the decision she's been silently begging him to make for days. She notices that his breath catches as she moves forward, their faces only inches apart. His nose gently glides along hers, the imperfect bump in his so utterly perfect and Gage-like. She closes her eyes as their faces gravitate closer together, only fractions of an inch at a time. His breath is so richly hot and accelerated against her mouth. Their lips finally meet in the most gentle, tender, and sweetest touch of skin.

Summer's heart explodes, her nerves fall limply to the way side, and her stomach floats away on the blissful sea of his lips. It's just one simple, delicate, barely-any-pressure kiss. It's not enough, they both want more, but Gage is allowing Summer to take the lead. Their breath mingles between them, their lips so close energy arcs and links them together. Still, it's just another soft, so delicate kiss. Summer's hands tremble as they hold his face, and her nerves resurrect themselves.

Their eyes open at the same time, his deeply green meeting her infinitely blue. He searches her face for the answer to an unasked question. Reaching up so carefully to touch her face, his thumb roaming over her parted lips like a smooth piece of silk. She shudders, closes her eyes, and drops her hands from his face, melting into his touch like chocolate fondue. Except he's sweeter than that.

"Flower," he whispers low, his voice sweeping across her body like a physical embrace. "Can I kiss you?"

Eyes still closed, she nods breathlessly.

"Good," he murmurs and encircles her waist with one arm, gingerly drawing her to the edge of the chair. It's only slightly painful.

His lips meet hers again, so, so softly. She sighs into his mouth like a calm, undulating wind carrying a declaration of devotion. A vow. Her body trembles under his gentle touch as he pulls away only an inch. His thumb traces her bottom lip again, the caress as ethereal and subtle as a fervent twilight breeze. His warm mouth meets hers one more time, more earnest, but just as tender as silent promises of love whispered in the dark.

In that moment, every cell in her body forgets the anxiety that has afflicted and entrapped her. It's as if a force-field encases them and everything on the outside no longer matters. Her chest heaving, insides quivering, she drops from the seat, and he loses his balance from his squatting position. Their lips part. Gage catches her before they both topple to the ground, and she ends up straddling his waist. The whole ordeal is painful, yet she can't seem to care. Summer also doesn't care how intimate their position is, she is too wrapped up in the moment, the force-field firmly in place.

Gage clearly doesn't know how to handle the situation as his eyes search her face for the appropriate response. His hands roam around her, not knowing where to touch, before he tenderly grips her hip with one hand, and palms her face with the other.

"I'm speechless," he breathes, and she can't help but smile at him.

Then reality storms in. Someone knocks on the other side of the door so violently it vibrates. "Appleton, I heard the girls awake. We can't keep her here any longer."

Gage helps Summer up before he stands and towers over her. "Lazarus, you don't boss me around." His voice is harsh, a complete one-eighty to his soft tone when speaking with her. "I'll decide if we can't keep her here any longer. Get lost."

"Whatever, Lifer," Lazarus grumbles.

"I can still hear you. I said. Get. Lost."

Summer leans against the counter, and Gage places his hands on either side of her. Her hands are on his chest and can feel his thudding heart pumping just as fast as hers. His eyes glow with an intensity she's never seen before, and it makes her blush. With the lightest of touches his fingers twirl in her blonde hair, tickle the skin right under her ear, and then he leans down. Her breath catches in her throat—he's about to kiss her again, and the anticipation alone makes her weak in the knees. What is this man doing to her? Switching her from flinching at every advance to wanting him to only move closer. She closes her eyes, trusting him completely. His nose trails from her ear, down her jaw, and his warm breath leaves a tingling trail of goose bumps along her flushed skin.

"I'm going to kiss you again," he whispers right over her lips. She sighs into his mouth just as his lips descend to hers. Her heart skips merrily, the tingling only migrating further south in her body. No one has ever made her feel this way before. Ever.

Both of his hands cup her cheeks as he moves his mouth against hers, his tongue darting out and licking her bottom lip. She responds by wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer until their bodies are pressed together. Her bruised body protests. She inadvertently gasps in pain and her hands fly to her hip where it hurts the most. He pulls away quickly, breathless.

"I got carried away. Sorry," he murmurs.

She shakes her head slowly and bites her lip as she smiles. Forget the pain.

"No?" he quips with a smirk.

She shakes her head again, smiling even wider and still biting her lip.

"Well, if that's the case . . ." He leans down and kisses her all over her face, avoiding her lips—much to her aggravation. He pulls away and sweetly caresses her face with the tips of his fingers. "I wish this wasn't the case, but it's true that you can't stay here now that you're awake." The relief in his voice at the last part is palpable. "I was afraid you'd be stuck in that state. It was such a deeply rooted fear . . . and all of these what if scenarios played out in my head."

She places a finger to his lips to silence him and he kisses it. A blush snakes its way up her neck and into her cheeks again. Without thinking, she bands her arms around his waist and hugs him tightly, placing her head against his muscular chest. The tha-thump, tha-thump of his heart is steady against her ear, his scent savory in her nose. Gage wraps one arm around her carefully, trying not to hurt her, and holds her head against his chest with his other hand.

"Oh, Flower." He sighs. "You've captured me—wholly and completely."

She wants to say "Me too" but can't form the words. Instead, she squeezes him tighter, and he lightly kisses the top of her head, his breath warming her skin.
CHAPTER 26: ALIVE

16 years old

Inside the room, the atmosphere was warm and inviting due to Gage's presence. But on the outside . . . it's a whole new world—cold and unwelcoming. The hallways they walk down are darker than the room, and the Leaguers litter the corridors. Some of the faces are kind and sympathetic, some are downcast and unreadable, and then there are a select few Leaguers who glare or smirk with malice and hate. Summer recognizes each of these faces—she's seen them before. It reminds her of the crew members on the Cosmos. Some were nice to her, possibly even cared about her. Then there were a select few who just acted as if she didn't even exist—like if they believed she wasn't there than she really wasn't. But when she sees the gleaming, hostile eyes of some of the Leaguers, she can't help but imagine Jarvis and Karl.

It takes her until this exact moment to realize just how wrong she was to ever compare Gage, the man she just kissed—her first kiss—to Jarvis. Gage is nothing like Jarvis, but these other men, and even some women, frighten her so badly she seizes Gage's arm and quivers as they continue to walk down the hallway. Gage glances sideways at her and takes her hand in his, his half-smile reassuring. The eyes of the Leaguers slither from her face to their connected hands now, then back to her face. Half of them look at them questioningly, the other half with disgust. Cameron trails in their wake, her footsteps almost silent.

At the end of the hallway is a set of double doors, huge and metal with two large glass windows that sparkle blue with electricity. A Leaguer stands on each side of the doors, erect and straight-faced as they scan the surrounding area. As Summer and Gage approach them, they both salute to Gage and open the doors for him with a press of a button on their uniforms. Outside is blindingly bright compared to the dim corridor. Summer squints as they step into what appears to be a courtyard. The doors slam shut behind them, and Cameron's no longer there, slinking away as quiet as a cat.

People are everywhere, hanging out in groups or sitting down at randomly placed picnic tables. Some people are playing games and having fun, others are obviously distraught. They're all young; none of them seem to be over the age of twenty one. Around them is a high fence with warning signs every ten feet or so explaining that it's electrical. Some of the people are wearing pajamas, while others are clothed in newer outfits like the ones Gage had bought for her.

Gage squeezes her hand right before they descend the four stairs that lead into the open area. To the left are rows of buildings, each with a white letter at the end with the first starting with A, and the individual doors are numbered. To her left is a square building where a long line of people stand outside the door with empty plates and cups in their hands. She notices that many of the people in the courtyard already have food.

"The camps are divided by age—this part of the camp is ages fourteen to twenty two. Each room has a minimum of three people and a maximum of five. You'll be staying in building E, room number twenty with Jaden and Lucy," explains Gage as he carefully guides her through the mass of people. "All of your things are already in the room."

My things? What things?

Just like with the Leaguers, the people—or Outlanders, she supposes—stare at them like they're some strange science project. Some of them glare with more venom than the Leaguers, especially the girls. Summer hasn't known many women in her life, but the ones she has met were, for the most part, decent people. Now she's not so sure.

They approach the long rows of buildings where he leads her between buildings E and D. The grass is grown up around the brick that looks old and abandoned. The doors are muddy-white, and the windows next to each door have such a dirty film on them that she's not even sure her trusty Comet could clean them. The over-grown lawn's been trampled on and is beginning to turn brown in some areas. A concrete sidewalk has all but disintegrated, the land obviously claiming and devouring it. Summer stares at building E to her right, keeping an eye on the numbers on each door, the first starting at one and going up as they continue down the lane. Building D to her left has numbers on the doors starting at forty and going down as they walk.

A door opens at the very end of building E and several figures step out. As they hike closer, she recognizes Jaden, but that isn't who her eyes focus on. Summer stops, and Gage's hand is ripped from hers. He stops and pivots around.

"Everything all right, Flower?" he asks, his eyebrows scrunching.

Summer looks past him and to the group of people, her hand over her heart, her chest heaving beneath her palm, and tears threatening to explode out of her. It's him. It's really him. Blonde hair. Brown eyes. Thin and sturdy. And he's . . . alive. So, so alive. Alive. A . . . live.

Gage's voice lowers, anxious. "Flower?"

Summer nods slowly, takes a deep breath, and then, without conscious thought, she tears past Gage in a full-fledged run. Gage calls after her but Summer's focus is only on the blonde hair and deeply brown eyes of Landon. Her strides lengthen. The smile on her face is so wide she wonders if her face will crack. Someone points in her direction, and Landon glances over and sees her running toward him. He freezes for a second. He grins and dashes in her direction. They meet in the middle, and he engulfs her in a gigantic hug, picks her up, and twirls her around and around. It hurts, but she doesn't mind.

"Ducky!" exclaims Landon in a deep Scottish accent. "I thought ye were dead until I found Jaden here." He puts her down just as Gage flies up behind her. Jaden and the other group of people finally catch up with them, watching their reunion.

"Ye look so much better, Ducky. Wow, the future really does ye well. Ye are even glowing!" Landon walks around her in a circle and appraises her while she just grins and bounces on her feet like everything outside the hospital never happened.

Gage is frozen place, not sure how he's supposed to react. He's never seen her interact with anyone like she does with Landon. "Who's this?" he asks, his voice wavering. His eyebrows draw together, lines wrinkle on his forehead, and he frowns.

"I'm Landon." Landon extends his hand. "And ye are?"

"Gage," he says slowly while shaking Landon's hand. "How do you know Summer?" The confused expression hasn't left his face. Summer reaches back and holds Gage's hand again in a reassuring gesture. Funny—she's reassuring him for a change.

"We were both slaves on the Cosmos together. When the ship blew up we were separated." Landon's profound brown eyes trail down to their intertwined hands. "Is this what has ye glowing?" he asks with a chuckle.

Summer nods shyly and swears Gage's chest puffs out a little at her words.

"I've never seen her interact with another person like she has you," Gage notes, his tone haughty. "I don't—"

He's cut off by Summer's tugging on his hand. She brings his palm into her grip and begins to write swiftly across it. "Landon saved me from being raped." There's a pause as Gage looks between Landon and Summer again. "He protected me on the ship. Best friend," she writes hastily.

"Thank you," blurts Gage to Landon automatically.

Landon chuckles, confused by the exchange. "Um . . . ye're welcome?"

Jaden steps between Landon and Summer and gives her a quick hug. "You do look better. We heard about the riot outside the hospital, so when you didn't show up for a few days we thought the worst." Jaden winks at Gage. "But I see superhero here has taken care of you." She chuckles. "Anyway, we're on our way to the cafeteria. Have you eaten?"

Summer shakes her head.

"Want to come with?" asks Jaden cheerily.

Summer looks to Gage.

"If you could just give us a minute, she'll meet you at the end of the building in a few," Gage says to them with a polite tilt of his head.

"Of course," says Jaden with a purring noise vibrating in the back of her throat.

Giggles erupt from behind Jaden, and Summer takes inventory. There's one girl and two boys she doesn't know. Up until this point she hasn't paid any attention to anyone outside her small bubble of friends. They all walk past her, and the three unknowns stray away from Summer like she's diseased—though that's the way she prefers it. Jaden and Landon probably told them of her aversions to people, especially males.

Gage walks Summer the rest of the way down the lane, and she notes that door twenty is at the very end. Building D, to her right, ends with door twenty-one. He bypasses her door, though, and pulls her around to the backside of the building.

Completely ignoring her usual shyness, and her sore muscles and bones, he presses her against the crumbling brick wall. Her heart skips a little in alarm and excitement at his eagerness. He pushes his body against hers and leans down to capture her lips with his, being more aggressive than he's ever been with her. He may not be as gentle as he was earlier, but he still uses great care when handling her. The pain in her hips is still there, but she forgets about it immediately. Every touch and kiss is reverent, as if he's worshipping her, devout in his caresses. She kisses him back without abandon, the fluttering sensation ten-fold in her stomach. His hands fist in her hair, pulling her closer, and her hands do the same. His blonde hair is smooth as silk and only makes her want to explore more of him, to learn and know how each part of him feels under her fingertips. Her hands travel down his shoulders, grip his biceps, and tickle his arms. Their hearts both find an accelerated rhythm, in harmony with each other.

Where is this coming from? she wonders. I don't know, she concludes in a kissing stupor, but I like it. A lot.

He parts her mouth with his at her equal enthusiasm, and his tongue dives into her mouth, the taste intoxicating and fervid. His hands roam down her back, bowing her into his body, and play around the edges of her belted black pants. Then his fingers find their way under her shirt and begin to move up her lower back. He breaks the kiss abruptly, his breath surging quickly along with hers. His eyes stay closed, and his forehead leans against hers as he continues to trace the lines of the scars etched into the skin at her back.

"These will forever be a reminder to me of how precious you truly are," he breathes against her lips, his fingers gently tracing a particularly long scar. His eyes open slowly, revealing the fathomlessly, and enticingly, green depths. "I'll never hurt you like that. You know that, don't you? That's why you didn't flinch or raise your arms when I pressed you against the wall. Isn't it?" His heavy breaths don't slow, and his eyes convey the truth in his words.

Summer nods against his forehead, and he presses a loving, tender kiss on her swollen lips. Her heart's still jumping when he pulls away, and his eyes are so richly green she wants to stare at them forever. He takes her hand into his and continues to gaze into her sapphire eyes. "I won't be around all the time like I want to be, though I will be around more than I was in the hospital. If I'm not here I want you to stick with Landon, because if anyone lays a finger on you I'm bound to murder them, and then I'll be locked up and unable to protect you."

She thinks about what he said for a second and then a grin sneaks up her face and she nods. He's so kind . . . protective . . . compassionate, she realizes. Why did I ever fear him? Not trust him? This truly baffles her as Gage leans over one more time and places another gentle kiss on her lips.

"You should go now," he whispers against her mouth, "before I change my mind and keep you here." He steps back.

She takes in his appearance: the uniform, the messed up blonde hair, the eyes. Oh, the eyes. She sighs dreamily, and those eyes smile at her. And the imperfect bump on his nose . . . She can't help but stand on tiptoe and, finally, press her lips against that imperfect bump. It's what she's wanted to do since the beginning. When she backs away, he has the goofiest grin plastered on his face that's so endearing she wants to do it all over again to see if it'll become bigger, brighter, and possibly goofier.

"Get outta here, Flower. I'm already changin' my mind," he says playfully.

She gives him one last smile before she takes off between the buildings. Gage steps out from behind the building and watches her, the goofy grin still plastered across his face as he rubs at his neck distractedly. Her blonde hair trails behind her in an undulating wave, the black clothing making her look even thinner. At the other end of the building, she runs into her friends. Landon wraps an arm around her shoulders and Gage watches them walk away, jealousy nipping, biting, and tugging at his smile until it's gone.
CHAPTER 27: OUTCASTS

16 years old

Landon escorts Summer through the maze of people with Jaden being a solid wall next to her. The other three don't say anything to her, only stay far away. Many people stare at them, and she wishes the future held the technology of invisibility.

"So are ye going to tell me about this Leaguer who obviously is in love with ye?" teases Landon, smiling widely regardless of the scowls that follow them. "The girls here all swoon for him," he adds with a chuckle. "I'm afraid ye are going to have a lot of enemies."

Summer frowns at this news, wishing she could just not be on anyone's radar. Her frown doesn't last for long, though. She can still taste Gage on her lips, and Landon, her best friend who she thought might be dead, is right here with her. If there is one thing in this world that could make this day better, it would be to fly away from here with everyone she cares about and live peacefully on some remote island.

They line up outside the square building she saw earlier. There's a table with plates and cups for them to use at the end of the line. They each grab the necessary utensils with their plate and cup. The girl next to Jaden has curly brown hair, light green eyes, and only an inch taller than Summer. There's a smattering of freckles across her cheeks just like she has.

"Summer, this is Lucy," Jaden introduces and Lucy smiles warmly at her.

"Hi Summer. Jaden and Landon have told me so much about you. I know you don't speak, but that shouldn't be a problem for us. My sister Kylie was deaf so we learned to communicate without talking." Lucy hands her plate, cup, and utensils to Jaden and begins to move her hands around in quick, concise movements. Almost theatrically.

Jaden and the two boys Summer doesn't know begin to laugh at Summer's eccentric expression while she watches Lucy. Lucy's hands continue to flail around dramatically. Summer actually backs away, beginning to panic when Lucy becomes more animated and forceful with her insane hand gestures. Landon wraps an arm around Summer's shoulders again, letting her know he's here for her. She really missed his comforting side-hugs.

"What, is that, like, some gang sign?" a girl asks with a laugh as she flips her dark blonde hair behind her. "Freaks." The group of people around her burst into laughter as if she just said the funniest thing on the planet. They walk away, several of them glancing over their shoulders with malicious smirks in place.

Once they pass, Landon begins to chuckle. "Summer can't read sign language, Lucy. Plus, she can hear just fine."

Lucy's hands drop to her sides. "Oh." She bites her lip, accepts her stuff back from Jaden, and turns away, embarrassed. She tucks her hair behind her ear, and Summer notices a tiny mark behind her right ear—like a strawberry.

"And these two fools," says Landon with a wave of his hand in the direction of the two boys, "are Avery and Robert, Rob for short."

They both mumble a hello and neither of them offer a hand to her. Avery has wine-red hair with dark green eyes, though his most distinguishing features are his large ears that poke out from his hair. Rob, on the other hand, has longer, golden brown hair and light green eyes. He's tall and thin with model-like looks, and, Summer notices, Jaden's eyes continuously find their way back to him no matter where he stands.

They move forward in the line, and as the minutes pass, the group around her begins to open up after having the awkward sixth wheel added to their group.

"I swear if they're serving those bloody baked beans again I'm going to go on strike," grumbles Rob in a British accent. "You'd think they would add some bacon fat or something for flavor."

"They do add something," chimes in Avery, "it's called dirt. Lots of fiber." They chuckle and Lucy joins in.

"Three meals a day—I'm not complaining," adds Landon, eyeing Summer knowingly. On the Cosmos, it wasn't abnormal for them to only receive one meal a day, usually dinner since they cooked it, but sometimes not even that.

"I forget these things," says Rob in apology. "So what's your story?" he asks Summer, then turns to Landon for the answer.

"Same as mine, except for longer and more intense," Landon explains, obviously trying to change the subject. His voice lowers. "She doesn't talk for a reason—beaten into silence." An uncomfortable silence follows his words, and Summer's really beginning to hate being this strange person that everyone gawks at. "Anyway," Landon finally says, "why don't ye all tell her about yourselves, all right?"

"Sure," says Lucy, quickly rising to the challenge. "I'm Lucy Wofe—but you knew that. Um, my sister Kylie and I ride horses and compete in dressage and show jumping." The line moves forward some more. "And I have this unstoppable laughing issue when someone trips and falls. I just can't help it."

Jaden bursts into laughter. "That poor girl broke her ankle, and you couldn't stop giggling, Lucy. It was awful! She probably thinks you need Prozac, or you're a schizoid. Hell, I think you need a heavy dose of Valium."

"It was bad," adds Rob with a chuckle. "Especially when you started snorting like a constipated pig." In his accent it's even funnier. Everyone starts to laugh, and Summer smiles at their banter.

"Fine," Lucy huffs, though a grin twitches at the edges of her mouth. "If you think you're so fantastic, Robert, you tell her about yourself."

"Parkins is my last name, and singing is my game." Rob bangs his plate and cup together loudly and Summer backs away reflexively. "Sorry," he blurts. "I'm just so pissy with this whole bloody situation. I was just here on an exchange program I was told would do wonders for my resume." He makes a grand gesture with his plate and cup by swirling them around in the air. "But no—I get cheated on by my girlfriend and sent two hundred years in the future to be shoved into a camp full of Yanks." He rolls his eyes for emphasis.

"We're so tired of your sad love story, puppy boy." Avery slaps Rob on the back, and this also makes Summer recoil. "Sorry," he says quickly. "Forget this lot. I'm the coolest dude here. I'm a swimmer and won my school's regional competition." Avery pulls a medal from under his shirt and wiggles it so the sun reflects off it. It reads "1st Place" and under that it has his name "Avery Delta." He rubs the medal like it's a furry pet. "I mean—look at that beauty."

Summer's impressed and actually takes a step forward.

"Dork," quips Jaden.

"Cobblers!" Rob laughs and flicks the medal. "This git has lit'rally been showing that thing off since he got here."

"Don't start using your bloody British speak with me," jokes Avery.

"Basically, we're all a bunch of prats if you ask me," says Rob with another chuckle, throwing his arm around Jaden.

"Speak for yourself," Lucy says and sticks her tongue out at Rob.

"And if you ask me," a girl chirps behind them, "you all look like yeasty, cross-dressing perverts to me!" A bunch of people around them start to guffaw.

They all turn around to stare at the girl who spoke. Avery seems to be the most offended of all. The girl is only slightly taller than Summer with blonde hair and creepy, ice-blue eyes. She has a tattoo of a violet butterfly on her left cheekbone, right next to her eye, and a wicked grin is spread across her face. She's quite chubby compared to the others, and it's obvious money has influenced those around her.

"Shut it, muffin top," says Rob with a grin.

The girl gasps as her friends start to giggle at her.

"Violet—you were had!" one of them says with a laugh.

"Oh, by the way," Landon says, turning Summer around and moving forward in the line, "we're the outcasts in this place. But we've got Rob on our side—he's like an insult dictionary."

"And don't forget it, numpty!"

And the playful insults continue between them as the line moves forward, though the girl behind them remains quiet. Summer feels as though she's been thrown on a crazy roller coaster.
CHAPTER 28: CHOCOLATE

16 years old

The food isn't that much different than what Summer had been eating while in the hospital. They choose to eat outside, much to her delight. Ever since Doctor Rose turned the window in her room into a wall (she's still confused how that works), she hasn't been outside at all. At the picnic table, Summer sits between Jaden and Landon, with Lucy, Rob, and Avery across from them. Jaden takes a bite of a green apple while staring at Rob intensely as he explains the difference in guitars, strings, and picks.

"You know what I miss?" Lucy interrupts.

"Riding?" everyone says at once.

"We know," says Avery with a sigh.

"No!" Lucy rolls her eyes. "I was going to say I miss pizza. Oh! And chocolate!"

Everyone groans at the sound of something as sweet as chocolate. From what Summer was told, the food has become more and more tasteless, and the portions have been shrinking. There have even been fights breaking out in the camps from people stealing food from others. Especially the once wealthy and rich who can't just go buy whatever they want anymore.

"Speaking of chocolate," says Landon with a grin spreading across his face. "Happy birthday, Summer!" He pulls something from his pocket and places it on the table in front of her. When he removes his hand she can see the distinct brown wrapper of a candy bar. Her eyes go wide at the sight.

"It's your birthday?" Lucy asks with a squeal edging her voice.

"Almost three weeks ago now," says Landon.

"Party in our room tonight!" Lucy squeals, claps her hands together, and bounces in her seat.

Summer picks up the chocolate candy bar like it's precious and examines the worn exterior. Flipping it over and over in her hands, she can't believe that he managed to hold onto this for so long and just for her.

"It might be a little squashed," Landon says in apology. "I've kept it on me the whole time—didn't want any of these people around here to steal it. There's been a lot of that going on around here."

She hugs him quickly in thanks and pushes her tray of half-eaten food away. All she can think about is the chocolate and how wonderful it'll taste. But then she looks up and sees them all staring at her . . . or the candy bar. They might even be drooling. She frowns with the candy bar in her hand and then decides to put it in her pocket to eat later—when no one's around.

A hand reaches down and snatches it out of her hand before she can put it away, and she automatically recoils into Landon at the unexpected hand. Her heart jumps in surprise, expecting any second for something, or someone, to hit her. Nothing happens. She spins around in her seat to find out who it is.

"Oh! What's this?" a male says with glee. "Chocolate? You freaks really have been holding out on us."

Landon stands quickly, his face hardening. "Give it back to her, Preston."

Jaden's arm wraps around Summer's shaking shoulders while Rob joins Landon, circling around the table and folding his arms angrily.

"No, I don't think I will," jeers Preston with a smug smile.

"Stupid git! You think you're cute? Pickin' on this innocent girl?" Rob's voice flares with fury. "Why don't you take your genital identification disorder somewhere else? And make sure to leave the chocolate bar here. Got it? Now hand it over and piss off!"

A group of seven or eight gathers around them, and they all laugh. Preston, his blue eyes narrowing, turns to glare at his "buddies." They all shut up at once, and many of them bite their lips in an attempt to stop from laughing.

"You got any more chocolate?" Preston's eyes snap back to Landon. "Because if you do, I think I'll be taking that off you too."

"That's funny," says Rob, fake laughing. "I'm thinking that you're going to give that back to this girl here"—he points at Summer who wishes he would not direct their attention to her—"or I will personally kick your wanker-licking, nancy ass!"

Preston nods his head at a huge guy with brown hair and eyes. The guy has muscles in places Summer didn't even know had muscles, and his pointed chin gives his face a malicious look. He has a dragon tattoo covering the whole of his left calf, bright in the sunlight on his leg. He grins and narrows his eyes like things are about to get really interesting, then plops down next to Summer and throws an arm around her, over Jaden's. Jaden yanks her arm free and spits out, "Jerk! Get off her!"

The guy's breath is hot and smells like old meat. Summer's heart is in her throat, and her stomach feels like it is going to squeeze until she's sick all over him. She tries to move away but he only grips her with more strength. Rob's eyes meet Summer's, and she can read the absolute rage there.

"If that's how it's going to be, ass tosser . . ." Rob's fist connects with the bridge of Preston's nose with a very distinct crunch. "And you"—he points at the guy next to Summer—"sod off you cheeky bastard!"

The guy's arm only tightens. "I don't think so. We're just getting to know each other, aren't we, precious?" His rough fingers touch her face, and she flinches. Her skin wants to get up and run away at his touch.

Jaden tries to pry his fingers from her shoulder but has no luck. Landon's shouting indistinctly while being held back by a boy shorter than him.

Preston grunts and holds his nose, bending over with his eyes closed. "You stupid Brit!" Preston stands to his full height. He's not quite as tall as Rob, but he's thicker around.

Rob's attention turns back to Preston. "Bloody hell."

The guy next to Summer doesn't move, only grips her even tighter and whispers in her ear, "Hey baby. My name's Blake. Once these two are done playing around, how about you and me go back to my room, and I'll show you what's underneath all these clothes?" He licks her cheek with his disgusting, rotting meat smelling saliva.

Summer almost loses her lunch all over him. She fights back this time and pushes against his chest with all of her strength, but she's still exhausted from her hospital stay and her catatonia. He only laughs at her pathetic attempt.

"Now why would you want to get way from all of this?" he asks while his hand moves up and down his body like he's showing her treasure.

Before them, Preston and Rob are in a full-blown fight, the crowd cheering them on. Landon breaks free and tries to pull them apart, shouting the whole time. All of them end up on the ground, fists flying, the crowd cheering, and all the while Blake's arm is wrapped securely around Summer's shoulders. She's shaking so badly that her muscles begin to strain under the tension.

Lucy and Avery are nowhere to be seen, and Jaden's focus on Blake fades as her eyes trail to Rob, who she obviously has a crush on.

"He's hurt! I'm sorry," says Jaden as she stands and gets lost in the fray of flying limbs. Soon the cheering crowd is so thick around the fight that Summer can't see anything, frozen in her seat with Blake's breath in her ear.
CHAPTER 29: PURPLE

16 years old

A siren howls, and the crowd disperses, though the fight continues. The courtyard floods with Leaguers in their green and black uniforms. Blake stands and brings Summer with him. She tries to duck out of his grip but he only holds on tighter, bruising her arm where she's already sore from the riot outside the hospital. Sharp, stabbing pains rush up and down her arm, riding her strained nerves. She wants to scream out for one of the Leaguers to help her but, again, her voice fails. Blake drags her through a crowd of people who bump into her, step on her, and send her into a state of panic. Her heart beats in double time.

Suddenly, Gage is standing in front of them, and they skid to a halt. Summer has never seen such fury in Gage's eyes or such enmity in the cut of his jaw as it tightens.

"Fingers off!" growls Gage.

"What is it with this girl that has everyone in such an uproar?" Blake shakes his head, a smile creeping up his face. "Oooh . . . you're the Leaguer who has the hots for the Outlander girl." His voice lowers into a conspiratorial whisper as he leans forward. "Let me guess—this is the Outlander?" He chuckles.

Gage's eyes burn with green fire as he pulls something black from his belt. "Summer, are you all right?" he asks, though his eyes don't leave Blake.

She shakes her head fiercely, trembling. Gage's eyes flick to hers for a second before they go back to Blake.

"Any pain you have inflicted on her, you will feel double," warns Gage, his voice as harsh as sandpaper against the skin. He holds up the device pulled from his belt and presses a single button. A beam of light shoots from the end of it and lights up Blake's chest with a tiny blue dot.

"That's it?" Blake laughs. A second passes, and Blake's body starts to jerk violently. "What the hell did you do to me?" he says through gritted teeth. A few more seconds pass as he shakes, and then he releases Summer. He topples to the ground while holding onto his chest where the blue dot was.

Summer races to Gage, flying into his arms and holding tight. Her body still trembles from Blake's touch.

"You're okay," he says softly while holding her securely against his chest. "He won't be getting up for a while." His tone is smug.

She wants to say thanks, to find some way to show how much she appreciates him stopping Blake from taking her to his room. She pulls away, finds his palm, and writes, "Thank you." Then she looks up into his eyes that soften when he sees her sincere expression. Her eyes are big, round, and brightly blue, somewhat reminding Gage of a puppy who was just kicked.

"You're welcome," he says softly and then steps back. "Where are you hurt?" He begins to look her over, inventorying anything out of place.

She lifts the sleeve of her shirt and looks over her shoulder to see the damage to Blake's strong grip. There are distinct finger marks embedded into her skin, the color of her flesh already discoloring into purple and black. Gage's breath catches when he sees it.

"That piece of splash."

Summer nods in agreement. Doubly splashy, she adds mentally.

His fingers gently run over the bruise as he shakes his head. "I was afraid of this."

Summer's eyebrows come together as she watches his face. He looks at her and says, "Because of our involvement. I was worried people would pick you out of the crowd as a target, but I didn't think it would be within an hour." He rubs his temples as if he has a headache. "I don't know what I'm going to do when I'm not around here." He inhales deeply before slowly exhaling. "I'm going to be freaking out the whole time."

She hates that he feels he can't do what he needs to because of her. Landon was always good at making sure Summer was safe on the ship, but not even he could stop her punishments. Gage couldn't take on this responsibility along with the rest of his. She turns around and gazes down at the heap that is Blake. A wicked smile slithers up her lips as she takes deliberate steps his direction.

"What are you doing?" asks Gage behind her, confusion in his voice.

Summer glances over her shoulder, the smile still in place, and winks at him.

He grins back conspiratorially. "Flower, what are you doing?" He laughs.

She turns back around and stares at Blake who seems so . . . harmless in this state; his legs twisted, his arms splayed out like an eagle, and his face slack. I must face my fear, she chants internally. He can't hurt me right now. She squats next to him and starts to rummage through his pockets.

"Looking for treasure?" asks Gage, a smile in his voice.

She shakes her head as she leans over Blake and searches his pockets. Her fingers encounter the chocolate bar, and she yanks it free triumphantly. She stands and pivots around, showing Gage what she took.

"What is that?" he asks, eyebrows scrunching.

She holds it out to him, and he takes it in his hand, flipping it over and over.

"A Hershey's bar? Wow! How old is this thing? I've never seen a wrapper like this before? Must have come from the past." Gage continues to turn it over, fascinated by the chocolate bar. Then his eyes snap up to hers, and he lets out a short laugh. "Was this all over a chocolate bar?"

She nods and frowns, trying not to smile at how stupid the whole thing is.

Gage breaks out into a fit of laughter. "That's something." He shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear. "It's only chocolate."

Summer's eyes go wide. Only chocolate?

Landon runs up to Summer and Gage. "Hey!" he pants, then stops and leans over to catch his breath. "Thanks for stopping Blake," he says to Gage. "When I couldn't find Summer I knew he'd taken her. So thanks."

Rob, with Jaden holding him up partially, isn't far behind. "Hey, has anyone seen Lucy or Avery?" asks Jaden.

Summer nods slowly as she takes in Rob's appearance, her jaw slack in shock. His face is bloody with several cuts, the largest above his right eye that's almost swollen shut, and he's holding his ribs as if they're broken.

"We need to get you checked out," says Gage with a whistle. "You aren't looking to good."

"Guess my insults were too good, eh?" says Rob with a crooked smile.

"You said he had a genital identification disorder. That's bound to piss anyone off," Jaden says and pats his hand that's draped over her shoulder.

"And I called him a wanker-licking, nancy ass. You can't forget that one," Rob says with a short laugh before wincing.

"Did you really?" asks Gage, throwing his head back and chuckling. "Well, that makes more sense for a cause of a fight than a candy bar."

"Yeah, but I called him that because he took the chocolate," says Rob. "You don't just go around taking people's chocolate. Especially if it's a gift!"

Gage keeps chuckling. "You look pretty beaten up. I'll have our on-site doctor take a look at you. If you have any broken ribs we need to mend those immediately."

"You should see the other guy." Rob laughs. "Oh, ouch." He gingerly touches his ribs. "Yeah, I should probably see a doctor."

"Oyi!" Lucy shouts in the distance, and everyone turns in her direction. Avery's next to her as they run toward them. "Whoa, what happened to him?" She points to Blake.

"I shut his neurological system down for now," explains Gage nonchalantly.

"Where the hell have you two been?" barks Jaden.

"We went to find a guard who would help," explains Avery. "Half of them said no. There was one asshole—sorry, I mean Leaguer—in particular that started taking bets on the fight." He snaps his fingers like he's trying to remember the name. "Oh yeah, his name was Max, his jacket said M. Everfast."

"Stay away from him," warns Gage seriously. "He's nothing but trouble, and he hates Outlanders."

"Yeah, we figured that out," grumbles Lucy, a hand on her hip.

"Been busy, Lieutenant Appleton?"

Summer pivots around to see Cameron in her uniform. Summer had become so used to her wearing her white doctor's coat that it took her off guard for a moment.

"You could say that," replies Gage. "Everyone, this is Sergeant Steen, or Resident Steen if you're in the hospital."

"Please, call me Cameron," she says sweetly while going over to Rob. "Jeez, you're turning purple." She gently touches Rob's cheek, and he flinches in pain.

"If you can take care of him, I'll worry about this bozo." Gage gestures in Blake's direction.

"You've got it," says Cameron with a nod before turning back to Rob. "Can you walk all right?"

Rob nods, and Jaden looks at him in concern.

"Good. What's your name?"

"Rob."

"Well, Rob, follow me, and we'll get you taken care of."

"I'll meet you in the room, Summer. Okay?" asks Jaden.

Summer nods and waves them off.

Landon walks up to Blake, and his glare is unmistakable. "Com're Ducky." He gestures her over. She complies and stands next to him. He pulls her close, blatantly ignoring her shoulder and just going for her waist. "I think ye need to get your justice."

She glances up into his dark eyes, and her eyebrows draw together.

"Ye know what to do," he says and backs away.

Everyone stands around her, watching and waiting. Summer stares down at Blake, and in her mind she can see Jarvis's face beneath the surface of this man. All her hate and anger boil up inside, her blood heating with all the bad things that have happened, how this man tried to take her confidence just like Jarvis did. Her confidence only grows inside her, and she pulls her foot back, her new black boots tipped with steal (thanks to the Leaguer outfit Gage had given her). Blake suddenly wakes, and his eyes flicker open to see her boot come flying at him. He tries to move but she kicks him in the arm where he bruised her. He cries out and holds his arm in agony.

Summer backs away while he writhes in pain, but at the last second she comes forward again and kicks him solidly between his legs. Her foot connects with all the force she can muster, and the males around her groan just at the sight, though Blake's scream out shines all other noises. Summer turns on her heal and walks away satisfied. Lucy claps, and Landon smiles proudly.

Gage has the device he used on Blake earlier in his hand. He points it at Blake again and presses a button. He goes quiet, his body stilling. Everyone stares at Gage with a rainbow of expressions. "What?" he says with a joyful smile. "If she was going to kick him, I wanted him to feel the pain."

As Summer approaches Landon he raises his hand in the air, palm forward, and they high-five.
CHAPTER 30: SPIDER

16 years old

Summer lounges on the bed with its flowery bedspread and squeaky springs. Lucy explained to her earlier that the room they're staying in used to be a motel room and that when she first arrived there was dust everywhere, no water in the toilet, and the electricity didn't work for two days. She guesses it was abandoned until the Outlanders appeared, and they needed places to put them. Summer holds a rose to her nose—there was one lying on the bed when they arrived. It's Gage's signature. The ceiling above her is water stained and looks like popcorn so she prefers to stare at the red petals. She wonders what Gage is going to do with Blake. He carted him off in cuffs and promised her Blake wouldn't be a bother to her ever again.

Lucy sits in a chair at a tiny, round wooden table chatting away. ". . . and my horse Smoke just ran down that field with a huge, pink hand print on his ass!" She roars with laughter, and Summer smiles at the picture. Lucy has been talking non-stop since they entered the room. Summer's not sure if it's to fill her silence or if Lucy always talks this much. The bed squeaks and wiggles under her as Lucy crawls up onto it. There's something about her that Summer finds very comforting, even if she does talk a lot. Her chatter occupies the silence that Summer never breaks.

"Can I tell you a secret?" she whispers like someone else is in the room with them. Summer turns her head to the side and looks up at her. Lucy's curly brown hair poofs from her head, and her green eyes glitter with excitement. "Of course I can tell you a secret!" Lucy giggles. "I actually have two sisters—you know, I told you earlier that I have a deaf sister named Kylie. Well, I have an older sister too, Abby. She's four years older than me—I'm sixteen, by the way. Anyway, she's super pretty, and all the boys love her. She gets all the attention in the family." Lucy frowns like she's remembering something unpleasant.

Summer sits up and leans against the headboard, waiting for Lucy to continue, holding the rose up to her nose again. Secretly, she hopes there's a vampire or faerie involved in the story—even if everyone tells her they're fictional.

"They're all so proud of Abby with going to college and getting all As, or whatever. But the truth is, she dropped out a year ago and has been faking her grades to Mom and Dad while she tries to get jobs being an actress. She told me if I told anyone that she would tell our parents about the time I wrecked the car when I was thirteen." Her voice lowers into a whisper. "I told them that the car was stolen." She laughs, and Summer smiles, wondering what it must be like to be a normal teenager with parental woes. "Truthfully, I'm secretly relieved she didn't leap two hundred years into the future." She sighs and joins Summer leaning against the headboard. "Hope you don't think bad of me because of that."

Summer shakes her head and gives her a reassuring smile.

"Good."

The door flies open and slams against the wall. Summer and Lucy both jump in surprise. "Oops." Jaden waltzes in, and her brown eyes light up when she catches sight of the rose. "Oh! Is that from Gage?" She waggles her eyebrows.

Summer nods with a tiny smile.

"He brought her one every day in the hospital!" Lucy exclaims and claps her hands together excitedly.

"And how do you know that?" asks Jaden as she closes the door with more care than she opened it.

"There's a note."

"Where?" Jaden's black hair swishes as she searches for this mysterious note.

Summer frowns at both of them. It's her note, and Lucy already read it before she knew it wasn't for her.

"What? Can't I read it too?" asks Jaden playfully.

"I thought the rose was for me at first and read the note . . . on accident," explains Lucy. "I don't think she wants you to read it too." She giggles.

"Oh really?" Jaden plops down on the bed, making it squeak even more. "And why on Earth would you think this rose was for you, Lucy?"

Lucy's neck, up to her ears, turns red. "No reason." She looks away.

"Liar!" Jaden pokes Lucy playfully. "I'll get it out of you eventually—and you too, Summer. I want to see this note!"

Lucy scoots to the edge of the bed and stands. She goes to the sink next to the bathroom and fills a plastic cup with water. Summer looks between the two and, for the first time since she can remember, she's hanging out with girls her age who aren't ignoring her. One of them even knows and understands her previous life. She may be locked behind some fence, being treated like, well, an Outlander, but she has never felt so content in her life.

"Letter!" demands Jaden and Summer glances at her with a smile. She pulls the note from her back pocket and hands it over to her. Jaden squeals and begins to read it aloud.

"Flower, I checked out your room and realized it's worse than the hospital room. Perhaps I'll carry on my tradition of bringing you a rose every day to brighten things up. And perhaps I'll keep visiting you, too."

"Awe! That's so sweet," Jaden gushes.

"Keep reading," urges Lucy, leaning against the counter.

Jaden holds the note up again. "I'll be keeping my eye on you, sweet Flower. I promise you that I'll find a way to get you out of here as soon as possible. Until then, I'll fill your room with roses. With affection, Gage."

Jaden falls on the bed, faux fainting while holding the note to her chest. All the girls giggle together, Summer falling in even deeper with Gage.

Lucy abruptly screams bloody murder, runs, and dives on the bed between Summer and Jaden, just as Summer slips to the floor to hide between the two beds in the room. A door next to the sink flies open, and Avery and Landon stumble in, Avery with a roll of toilet paper held high like he's going to use it as a weapon.

"What is it?" asks Landon frantically, a toothbrush hanging from his mouth, muffling his words. Jaden jumps to her feet in alarm.

Avery spins around, the roll of toilet paper still high in the air, his dark, green eyes wide, and his red hair a mess. "I'll kill him!" shouts Avery.

Lucy's hand is over her mouth, her eyes wide. Summer's peeking over the side of the bed at what the cause of alarm is. She can't figure out the culprit. Lucy begins to laugh so hard she doubles over and tears pour from her eyes.

"What?" Landon and Jaden ask in unison.

Lucy removes her hand from her face and points at Avery, the toilet paper roll still held high, then to Landon who has toothpaste dribbling down his chin, and begins to laugh hysterically again. Landon looks behind him, and then his head tilts back as he finally sees part of the cause of Lucy's insane giggling.

Landon turns to the sink and spits out his toothpaste. "Put that down!" he says to Avery with a chuckle.

Avery drops his hand, his face flushing with embarrassment, and throws the toilet paper back into their room which is connected to theirs.

"Ouch, you prat!" barks Rob from inside their room. "You're lucky they gave me some good drugs or I'd kick your scrawny arse for that!"

"Oops," says Avery. "It was only toilet paper!"

"What are ye screaming at?" asks Landon, his eyes darting between Jaden and Lucy. He knows Summer didn't scream. Jaden points to Lucy. "Well?"

Lucy's still trying to control her giggles. "There was a spider crawling on the wall, and it was huge! I mean like ginormous!"

"A spider?" asks Landon in disbelief. "Ye burst my eardrum fer a spider?"

"Yes?" Lucy's voice is small. The room is quiet for several seconds before everyone starts laughing hysterically.
CHAPTER 31: MONEY

16 years old

The door between their rooms stays open as the evening progresses. Everyone is hanging out and having a good time while Summer stays quiet and observant. She learns many things about the people around her. Like besides Lucy's fear of spiders, she also hates heights. Avery's parents died in a car wreck not long ago in Kentucky, and that's how he ended up in California with his aunt. The thing Rob misses most is his dog Paco and his guitar. He's also still deeply upset over the Dear John letter he received from his girlfriend the day before the Exodus happened.

The Exodus. This is talked about in length throughout the night and seems to be a regular topic between everyone in the camp. Summer overheard some of the history that night on the beach, but still doesn't know much about exactly what happened. Basically, the Exodus was world-wide, wiping out all people with certain antigens and antibodies in their blood. Over two hundred million people went missing, and the world wanted answers. When no one produced any, people—namely countries—began to point fingers at others to satisfy the growing tension in their own. World War III broke out and decimated many countries, including the US of A. As countries pulled themselves back together afterward, they began to plot again. There were more wars, and during those times many American's moved to Canada to find refuge. Canada, on the other hand, decided to build themselves an army that could take the USA. With lax borders, it was easy. There hasn't been war in the Canadian Federation in almost a hundred years, though New York State, now its own country, has held its ground, refusing to back down. No one knows how they haven't been taken over; it's one thing the Leaguers don't talk about.

"So Summer," says Jaden as their conversation switches topics, "tomorrow word will be out about what happened today. There are about three thousand people in this camp—all young—and most of them from the Beverly Hills area. Do you know what that means?"

Summer shakes her head.

"It means that many of the people in this camp are privileged—their families are wealthy. Not all of them are snobs, but a large majority will look down on anyone who doesn't have a lot of money," explains Jaden.

"We're the outcasts, remember?" pipes in Landon.

Summer nods, though she doesn't really comprehend exactly what being an outcast entails. She knows that being an outcast means you're ridiculed, picked on, and treated pretty poorly over-all. She always thought it was such a cop-out when she compared her life to anyone who considered themselves an "outcast" in books she had read. But this time Landon holds a very serious expression which tells Summer she should listen and pay attention to what Lucy's about to tell her.

"You've met some of the bad characters already," says Jaden. "Blake I don't think will be a problem again." Summer smiles at the memory of kicking him. Twice. It was very empowering—still is. "Rob beat up Preston pretty thoroughly, but I have a feeling we haven't seen the last of him yet. The girl with the butterfly tattoo on her face? That's Violet. The only reason she has any standing here is because her very rich aunt owns the most popular tattoo joint in L.A. She hangs with some shady characters so just try to stay away from her."

"Don't scare the poor girl," Lucy chimes in.

"Are you scared, Summer?" asks Jaden.

Summer shakes her head.

"All right then. She needs to know this so she doesn't step on the wrong toes," says Jaden.

"Summer's incredibly perceptive," says Landon proudly. "And she knows how to avoid people like they have the black plague if necessary."

"Exactly," agrees Jaden and glances at Summer. "Now Summer, I want you to be careful around Carter. You can't miss him—he's the tallest person in this place. Stay far, far away from him. He's been especially violent lately because he is detoxing from cocaine. He's dating Kayla who acts like she runs this place. She's the one who made a quip about gang signs, remember?"

Summer nods, remembering the girl flipping her dark blonde hair like magical golden dust would flow from the ends. Maybe she's an evil faerie?

"Wherever Kayla is, her posse is never far behind. Which includes Alexis, Blake, Preston, and Wyatt—the one who was holding Landon back during the fight. Sometimes you'll find Violet hanging around her too. Basically, if you see a really tall dude and a blonde Barbie go the other direction."

Summer absorbs the information, hoping she can remember it all tomorrow when she has to face these people again. It's not much different than the ship's hierarchy.

"That's not all, though," says Landon quickly. "There are also the Leaguers."

"Hey, give the girl a break," says Lucy. "Don't you think she's been through enough? Plus, she probably knows a lot more about the Leaguers than we do considering her outfit." She waves her hand up and down, gesturing to Summer's new clothes. She's still wearing the black pants, black shirt, and black boots of the Leaguers, though the green and black jacket is gone.

The thought reminds her that Gage said her stuff would be in the room already. She's anxious to see what "her stuff" is. She rises from the bed and goes to the dusty dresser. They all watch her curiously as she pulls the first drawer out and shuts it quickly. It's all underwear, and her face flushes a little. She opens the second drawer and finds it full of clothing. Lucy and Jaden come up from behind her and look over her shoulder. They squeal at what's inside.

"Clothes!" they shout and dance around, holding them up to see if they will fit. "I'm so happy you know a Leaguer," exclaims Lucy.
CHAPTER 32: CHAOS

16 years old

The next morning, Summer and her friends make their way between the buildings to the courtyard. Outside the cafeteria and kitchen is chaos, a crowd pushing and shoving to get inside. Some people are walking away with bruised eyes and bloodied lips.

"Hey, what's going on?" Landon asks a kid who ambles by with a cut above his eye.

"They ran out of food this morning, and it's first come first serve," he explains and keeps walking, limping slightly.

"Bloody hell," says Rob in exasperation. "You've got to be kiddin' me! I am not fighting my way through a peckish crowd of rich kids for some manky cafeteria meal."

"It's getting worse," says Landon faintly.

Rob, ignoring Landon, continues his rant. "What happens when people start starving? Are we going to have to battle through these impulsive gits with their buffoon, shite-throwing attitudes!?" His eyes go wide in irritation, and his hand runs through his wild hair, only making it stand on end. "Some of these people couldn't figure out how to pour piss out of a mangy boot with the directions on the bottom! And now I'm stuck with them. Damn, I need a cigarette."

"You need something," jokes Jaden, chuckling.

"Maybe we should line up for lunch when things die down?" suggests Lucy. "If this is how it's going to be for breakfast, maybe we should beat the crowd—not literally, of course."

Avery heaves a sigh while staring into the distance. "It's not like we have anything better to do."

"I heard they're going to start making us work," says Landon.

"Doing what?" asks Jaden.

"No idea."

An alarm blares, and guards filter through the crowd. On the steps of the Leaguer building, the one Summer woke up in yesterday, a Leaguer stands with a malicious smile on his scarred face. He's obviously enjoying the angry mass of people, but after a few seconds of absorbing the scene, he begins to talk, and it's as if he's on a loud speaker.

"Outlanders!" he says calmly while his light brown hair ebbs and flows in the warm breeze. The crowd quiets and turns to the man. "We apologize for the lack of food this morning. Starting tomorrow we will be doing a roll call in the morning, and teachers will be escorted in for classes." There are groans throughout the crowd and a few choice curse words. "Yes, you heard me right. Each and every one of you will be required to get an education. No exceptions!"

Several people boo.

"Tomorrow," the Leaguer interrupts, "everyone will meet in the courtyard at six in the morning where you'll be assigned a schedule that you'll be expected to follow. Those who don't comply will lose the privilege of eating on the Federation's dime. That is all." He turns and strides into the Leaguer building, two other Leaguers taking up positions on either side of the door as they shut.

"Shall we line up anyway?" asks Lucy uncertainly.

Landon turns to Summer, his face a mask of confusion. "Yeah," he says absently. "There's something going on, but I can't put my finger on it."

"You're telling me, mate!" exclaims Rob. "We have to go to school to eat? A job, sure, but school?"

"What do you mean?" asks Jaden curiously.

"We're obviously prisoners here," explains Landon, his hand waving out, gesturing to the fence with its warning signs. "Why would they want us to be educated? Why don't they put us to work instead? Make us useful to them?"

"Maybe that's why they're 'educating' us," offers Lucy. "Maybe they want to A, brainwash us somehow, or B, teach us how to do the work they need us to so we can be useful. Let's face it—technology has changed a lot in two hundred years. What's simple to them might be incredibly complicated to us."

"Brainwash us?" Jaden giggles.

"What?" Lucy looks offended. "We are Americans—"

"I'm not," says Rob proudly.

"Except Rob," says Lucy with an eye roll.

"Neither are me and Summer," adds Landon.

"Fine!" snaps Lucy. "Jaden, Avery, and I are Americans. That isn't the point—the point is that we are foreigners here. These people took over the U.S. and now their country is crawling with the U.S.'s ancestors! That has to be threatening to them, and I'm sure there are several people who aren't taking the change well. It would be in the Federation's best interest to educate the young Outlanders of their ways and convince the older ones of their cause."

Summer silently agrees with a bob of her head, but she suspects there's something else behind the classes too. And, stupidly, she can't help but hope for the mythical creatures of her favorite novels to come to life. She'll be going to school—an actual school! The possibilities are endless.

"This should be interesting," says Jaden. "And yes, I do think we should line up for lunch. I'm already hungry."

They aren't the only ones who have this idea. Many people are already settled in front of the cafeteria doors, chatting and goofing off in clustered groups. Sitting on a piece of cracked concrete, Summer listens to her new friends while constantly on the lookout for the people she was warned about last night. Not far away she sees Preston and the blonde girl named Kayla. Preston's face is purple and swollen—he looks ten times worse than Rob. At the table with them are a few people she recognizes from seeing yesterday. Their heads are all close together as they talk, Preston's eyes constantly glancing in her direction.

It's sweltering hot outside as the sun beats down on them in the cloudless sky, but that isn't why a bead of sweat rolls down her spine. Her heart picks up beats with each of Preston's flickering glances. Something's up, but she isn't sure what. She interrupts Avery's play-by-play of how he won first place in the swimmer's regional meet by tugging on Landon's grey T-shirt.

"Ducky?" His forehead is moist with sweat, and his cheeks are pink from the sun. "What is it?"

She covertly points to the group at the table. Lucy and Avery, the ones with their backs to the group, quickly twist around.

"Turn around!" whispers Rob frantically. "Blimey! Could you be any more obvious?" He mumbles a few insults under his breath while shaking his head.

"We might have trouble," says Jaden in exasperation. "Can't we just have a normal day here without any trouble?"

"What's the fun in that?" says Rob with a smile, throwing an arm around her shoulder. Jaden beams up at him, and Summer wonders if Rob knows the look in Jaden's eyes is more than friendship.

"They're comin' over," says Landon without moving his lips.

"Great," says Rob sarcastically. "I'd really prefer not to bruise up my other hand beating this prat's arse again."

Kayla's the first to approach; she reminds Summer of one of the models she's seen in the magazines Cameron brought her, but with no makeup. "Well, well," says Kayla, her blue eyes glaring at Summer with vehemence. "You're the new girl, aren't you?"

Summer nods once, and Landon gently places a hand on her knee, instantly comforting her.

"So what's the story on you and that delicious Leaguer—Appleton?" asks Kayla, her blue eyes almost turning jade with jealousy. Even if Summer did talk, she wouldn't know how to answer her question. When she says nothing, Kayla becomes impatient. "What? Hanging with the Leaguers and now you're too good to answer my questions?"

"She doesn't talk," explains Landon while glaring at Kayla, his brown eyes narrowing into slits. "To anyone."

"If I ask her a question she should have the courtesy to answer!" exclaims Kayla, turning to her friends for support. "Right?"

They all agree with her, some mumbling, some being overly enthusiastic. Kayla glances back down at Summer, obviously waiting.

Jaden comes to Summer's rescue by answering for her. "That Leaguer was the one who found us and saved her from dying. He made sure she arrived safely to a hospital where he checked on her well-being during her recovery. What's it to you anyway?"

"Wait—is she the girl everyone was talking about? The one who was attacked outside the hospital three days ago?" Kayla holds up her hand to stop Jaden from answering. "And I want her to answer me," she says, her eyes roaming over Summer as if looking for a reason for her silence—or a reason why Gage would be interested in her. Even Summer didn't have an answer for that one. "And your hospital stay still doesn't explain the hand-holding I saw going on between you two." Kayla's voice grows demanding. "I want an explanation, and I want it now."

Summer's heart gives a tiny jolt at the memory of her hand in Gage's and his lips lightly caressing hers. Her first kiss. . . .

"Well?" Kayla presses. Though her voice holds contempt, Summer doesn't find her threatening now that she's up close. Maybe she's braver since the Blake incident.

"She hasn't spoken in twelve years—do you really think she's going to start now to answer your intrusive questions?" snaps Jaden, turning angry. "Anything between her and Appleton is none of your business. Go take your posse somewhere else." Jaden flicks her fingers in Kayla's direction, gesturing her to move along.

Kayla's blue eyes narrow. "Leave me," she says to her friends. "I'll handle this." One of them opens her mouth to argue but Kayla juts her finger out, pointing away. When they're out of earshot, Kayla leans over Avery and Lucy's heads. "You listen here . . ." She pauses, realizing she doesn't know Summer's name.

Lucy's lips clamp together as she holds in a giggle. It's hard to seem menacing when you don't even know the name of the person you're being demanding of. Jaden doesn't even hide her grin as Kayla waits for someone to fill in the blank for her, but instead everyone just watches her grow more frustrated.

Kayla growls out an aggravated huff. "What's your name?" Then she decides to ask Jaden instead. "What's her name?"

"Summer," says Jaden with a smirk.

"Okay then. You listen here, Summer, Appleton is mine!" Kayla points at Summer, jabbing her finger forcefully at her. "I've made a claim on him, so stay away from him. You got that?" Kayla places a hand on her hip.

"What about Carter?" asks Jaden, giggling.

"He's a coke head who's not important." Kayla's eyes snap back to Summer. "You can nod your damn head, can't you? Appleton's mine. Okay?"

Summer's not sure what to make of her demand, but this time Rob comes to her rescue. "Oh shut it, you harpy! Do you even know what his first name is?"

Kayla straightens, dusting off her clothes maddeningly. "Of course I do!"

"Oh yeah, and what is it?" says Rob with a smirk.

"Like I would tell you," says Kayla exasperatedly. "Just . . . stay away!" She twists around, flips her blonde hair over her shoulder, and saunters away.
CHAPTER 33: IGNORED

16 years old

The rest of the afternoon continues without incident. Lunch is served on time (though the portions are smaller), and there are no more threats made. Dinner, on the other hand, never happens. The line outside the cafeteria grows as dinnertime passes, but the doors to the cafeteria never open. People in the camp are beginning to panic, but with classes starting tomorrow, and the promise of meals, people aren't acting as crazy as they had during the early cutoff of breakfast.

Night falls upon them quickly, the stars and moon bright in the sky in this phantom universe. Summer lies awake, another rose held to her nose, as Jaden and Lucy both snore lightly in the bed next to hers. It's not that she isn't tired, it's that she can't seem to put the pieces of everything together in her mind. How her life was turned upside down. Moreover, how she came to be in this room with people who are nice to her. Who fill the silence that always trails in her wake without complaint. Who don't stare at her scars when they peek from beneath her clothes, or the ones clearly displayed on her arms and legs. She's also having a difficult time wrapping her mind around the fact that she'll be going to classes like a normal teenager. And that she kissed an actual boy . . . and it was more amazing than she could ever imagine. Mostly, though, she wonders how she got so lucky. A lot of the kids complain, cry, or lash out at the fact they're here. They really have no idea how lucky they truly are. Summer doesn't complain—verbally or mentally. Most of these people have no idea how lucky they are to receive a free meal even once a day.

The next day breakfast is only served to those who receive their class schedules. While standing in line, Summer sees Carter for the first time—he's hard to miss being so tall. He's also drenched in sweat and becomes violently ill several times in the grass. People stray far away from him, except Kayla who attempts to hold him up, even though he's almost a foot taller than her. She's clearly frustrated with him and displays a disgusted expression. Luckily, Summer is far enough behind them in line that the chances of a confrontation are few.

At the base of the stairs to the Leaguer building are several tables, a Leaguer standing guard with a strangely dressed person at each one. Their clothes are basic, plain, yet are complicated in their style. They wear full suits made of stretchy material in multiple colors. The device that Doctor Rose used on Gage and Cameron is being employed at each table. It was several days before Summer had the neural transplant implanted into her ear, but the other Outlanders were taken immediately to a center to have the procedure done. That's what they meant by "tagging." She's come to find that, not only do the transplants allow telepathy, they also allow for GPS tracking and are the equivalent of a driver's license and credit card—all of your information can easily be accessed using the device. This is what they intended to use as roll calling. They know where all the Outlanders in this camp are at all times, even what their vitals are. None of the Outlanders are given the option for telepathy, which Summer finds odd considering Doctor Rose did want to include this in Summer's neural transplant. Part of her reasons was because of Summer's silence.

"So what do you think they're going to teach us?" asks Lucy excitedly. She sounds almost as thrilled about class as Summer is; she's glad she isn't the only one.

"I dunno, but I want to learn to drive one of those!" exclaims Avery as he points overhead to a hovercraft that flies by.

"I really don't give a rat's ass as long as they teach someone around here to make a decent cup of tea," grumbles Rob. "The last time I asked for tea I got something cold, and it tasted like peaches. Disgusting." He makes a show of shivering.

They move forward in the line. "And what're we going to do if one of us isn't with Summer?" asks Jaden nervously.

Her question frustrates Summer, but at the same time she knows they just want to look out for her, and she can't help but appreciate that. Then again, she hopes to become more independent in this new world. With everything that has happened this could be the perfect opportunity for her to start over.

"We could always ask Gage," says Landon, his gaze focused on something over Summer's shoulder. They all follow his gaze to where Gage is talking quietly, yet urgently, with Cameron, clearly arguing.

"Why don't you go ask him?" suggests Jaden. Her attention focuses on the intense discussion they're having. "I mean maybe he could help out, right?"

Landon waves his hand high in the air when Gage's eyes do a quick sweep of the crowd. His gaze stops on Landon, and he stares with the intensity of a lion crouching in the weeds, preparing to pounce. Landon changes his hand gesture from getting his attention to waving him over. Gage doesn't acknowledge the change, doesn't even acknowledge Summer standing right next to him. Cameron says something to him, and he turns back to her, their discussion becoming heated. Cameron's hand is waving around in exasperation while Gage only shakes his head, rubbing at his neck and face. He says two sharp words to her and then marches into the Leaguer building, his back ramrod straight.

"Wow, what was that about?" asks Jaden, undoubtedly disturbed.

"I don't know, but I have a bad feeling," says Landon as he watches Cameron who's still staring in disbelief at the door Gage went through.

While Summer's friends all contemplate what their discussion could have possibly been about, she's feeling incredibly hurt by his neglect. Then she feels silly for thinking that—he still left a rose for her last night, and it isn't like he's at her beck-and-call, really. She tries to swallow down the rejection while the line continues to move forward, though her gut twists uncomfortably. Something's off.

When they reach the table, they're asked to immediately turn their heads and show their implants. Then the long rod that sticks out from the "roll calling" device is inserted. "Summer Waverly," the lady says without interest. "Wrist," she demands.

Summer does as she's told and is stamped on the inside of her wrist just like she had been at the hospital, but this time it shows a class schedule. The tattoo-like ink on her skin from the hospital faded within a day of being there, though it kept a magnetic chip under her skin that was scanned every time a nurse came into her room.

"You have three days to remember your schedule before it fades. Scan your wrist before and after each class, and once for each meal. There are no exceptions to this rule. If you do not scan your wrist for all classes, you will receive no meals. Do you understand?" the lady drones on, obviously spilling this little speech for the millionth time today.

Summer nods, holding her stinging wrist close to her chest.

"Information about the classrooms is posted outside the cafeteria," she says quickly and then looks behind Summer and shouts, "Next!"

Landon waits for her outside the cafeteria while the rest of her friends go through the same process. "Hey, let me see yer schedule," says Landon as Summer makes her way through the crowd carefully. She holds out her wrist, and he reads it for several seconds, comparing it to his. "All of our classes are the same!" he exclaims. "I guess Gage hooked us up after all."

Summer holds her wrist up so she can read the schedule. There are only four classes listed; two before lunch, and two afterward, though they're for two hours each. Her wrist reads:

0615-0715 Breakfast

0730-0930 Fusion Energy in 2210

0945-1145 History and Pop Culture

1200-1300 Lunch

1315-1515 Laws: Environmental & Societal

1530-1730 Space Exploration

1715-1815 Dinner

A smile breaks out over her face—this is the most exciting thing ever. So much better than the boring subjects that Landon used to teach her on the Cosmos. Not that she doesn't appreciate everything he's done for her. Without him she wouldn't know how to read and write. Regardless, she's absolutely thrilled and can't wait to show her schedule to each of her friends as they come to join the line for breakfast.

"How did you end up with all the cool classes and I get English?" asks Lucy with a frown as she reads over Summer's schedule.

"Hey, be happy," grumbles Jaden. "I got Aerospace Engineering. I mean, really? Does it look like I want to be an engineer? Plus, I'm horrible at math. They should have added that to my class schedule."

"Whoo hoo!" exclaims Rob as he rushes toward them. "I'm taking Popular Music in 2210! Maybe they'll let me play a guitar—provided they give me one."

Summer stares at her wrist again and frowns. She's not sure why she received the schedule she did. Maybe I'm not good at anything so they just stuck me in random classes.

"Dude, I'm taking Military Science and Leadership," says Avery with a scowl. "The upside is that I'm taking Film Studies!"

"Yeah, I guess it's pretty cool I'll be taking Animal Production and Lab," says Lucy, smiling slightly now. "Maybe there will be horses involved!"

"Wait," says Jaden quickly. "What does 'Film Studies' mean? Will you be watching movies every day on one of those holographic things?"

"One can only hope." Avery beams.

"Computer Science doesn't sound as exciting anymore," mumbles Jaden. "What do you have, Summer?"

Summer holds out her wrist while Landon says, "It's the same as mine."

"You're taking Pop Culture? Me too!" squeals Jaden.

"I think we all are," says Rob, holding his wrist out to her. "Though mine's in the afternoon."

"Space exploration? Whoa! That's so cool," says Jaden. Her brown eyes twinkle excitedly, and Summer grins.

As the line outside the cafeteria moves, Summer can't help but search for Gage again. She focuses on the area around the Leaguer building. Her gaze lands immediately upon two figures on the stairs: Kayla in Gage's arms. The sight stings Summer so harshly and roughly that she feels instantly sick. Frozen in place, she turns away and closes her eyes to try to erase the sight from her mind. Someone bumps her as the line moves forward, and her eyes fly open. All of her friends stare at her curiously, and then over her shoulder at what she can only assume is Gage and Kayla. Summer can't take their pitting stares and runs from the cafeteria line. Landon's voice is lost in the crowd as he calls after her. She doesn't stop running.
CHAPTER 34: SORRY

16 years old

Summer slams into people as she takes off through the courtyard. Why did she ever trust Gage? Why does she ever trust anyone? The only person who's always been there is Landon—and she knows he's pursuing her through the crowd at this very moment. She feels like she can't stop, though. He breath is shaky at best, and her nerve is about to get lost in the throng. Her heart? It's stuck in her throat with her stomach, all jumbled and screwed up. Two hands grab her suddenly and yank her from the path she's taking.

It's Violet, the girl with the purple butterfly tattoo under her eye. Summer's gasping for breath as Violet's hands grasp her harder and shake her. The side where Blake held onto her yesterday is even sorer today, and Violet's violent shaking sends shooting pains down her nerves. Summer's blonde hair shifts into her face and scary, ice-blue eyes bore into Summer's from underneath the fray. She's not sure if she can take a punishment or beating of any kind right now, so her legs go out from under her, and Violet loses her grip.

"You think you're so special, don't you?" spits Violet, towering over her.

Summer curls into a ball, shaking and waiting for the first slap, or kick, or whatever it is she has in store for her. She's been doing so well since she's been here, but is afraid it's all about to swirl its way down the toilet.

"But look at you, all pathetic. Stay away from Appleton—he's Kayla's man! If she dumps Carter then he'll be all mine. So back off!"

"Summer!" shouts Landon as a circle of people begin to form around her. "Stop! Don't do it!" He's screaming now, his voice loud and echoing. The people around her grow deathly silent.

Summer's doing everything she can to stop herself from crying over Gage. She doesn't even care what's to come, and then she hates herself even more for falling so hard and so fast for him. I'm so stupid! What was I thinking? This isn't some fairytale. This is real life and I was dumb enough to fall for the handsome guy, with his stupid hypnotic eyes, and his stupid imperfect bump-nose, and his stupid, soft lips. It's all just so . . . stupid!

"Let me go you freak!" bellows Violet.

A hand gently touches Summer's arm. "Ducky? I'm so sorry."

So he saw? She glances up at him, gulping to try to stop herself from crying. Landon's brown eyes are soft with sorrow, and the lines of his face are downcast. Behind him, Rob and Jaden have pulled Violet away from her.

"She didn't hurt ye, did she?" asks Landon carefully while inventorying her for any cuts or bruises.

She shakes her head and reaches for him, needing the comfort of her best friend. As Landon pulls her into a hug, voices erupt behind the wall of people. Through the forest of legs she can see them part as a Leaguer breaks through. She doesn't look up as the boots of the Leaguer stop only feet away from them.

"Flower?" The voice is soft, quiet, and uniquely Gage's.

"I'm really thinking that's not a good idea," says Lucy from somewhere to her left. Summer can't even build up enough courage to look up at him and is resigned to stare at his boots.

Landon's neck strains as he glances up and behind him. "Lucy's right." Landon's voice is hard and livid. "It's really not a good idea."

"But—"

"Don't," says Lucy sternly to Gage.

Landon stands and brings Summer with him, his arms never letting her go. "Let's get ye some water, okay?"

Summer nods and finally looks up into Gage's face. He's obviously torn on what he should do; concern and distress flare in his eyes, and a frown dominates all the contours of his face, pulling them down into a look of misery. A couple of tears escape her eyes, and she turns away quickly, not wanting him to have the satisfaction that he could make her spill her weakness so easily.

"Remember what I said!" shouts Violet as the crowd parts to let Landon and Summer through.

At the back of the crowd, Kayla stares at them with a smug smirk curling up like a snarl, completely eclipsing her features and turning them into something animalistic. Summer's stomach heaves, and she gets sick all over Kayla's shoes. Kayla jumps back quickly and screams, "Ew! You freak!"

Several people around her laugh, and Summer can't help but feel some pleasure over it. Lucy races up to them and takes Summer's hand. "Best payback ever," she says. "I think breakfast is in order—we have to fill your stomach back up and find a way to cheer you up."

Summer walks through the line in the cafeteria like it's not real. She scans her wrist, holds out her plate as food's dumped on it, and keeps walking. She follows Landon outside to a corner near the electric fence that hums with power. No one says anything, not even to each other, and not even Rob who's always so full of insults. A few insults might actually cheer her up right now. She doesn't eat any of her food, only moves it around. Her stomach just can't handle it.

Landon leaves Summer with Lucy as he checks out the boards in front of the cafeteria building for where their first class will be. When he returns, he informs them all that the majority of classes are in the Leaguer building, though last night they extended the fence to include another two buildings on the other side of it: Cherry Hall and Edward Complex. Now the Leaguer's building is in the middle of the camp.

Before they part ways, Lucy surprises her by giving her a hug. Lucy isn't like other people—Summer can tell how genuine of a person she is and already considers her a friend. "I'm here for you, even if you just want me to talk your ear off or not say a word. Anything," says Lucy sincerely. "And I'm sorry."

That's what they all say. . . .
CHAPTER 35: CLASS

16 years old

To enter into the Leaguer building you have to scan your wrist or else the doors won't open. They don't want anyone entering unless they have a class in here. Fusion Energy in 2210 is her first class. Summer and Landon walk down a long hallway; their classroom is about halfway down. Before they reach it, Summer catches Gage standing at the other end, watching her intently. Landon glares at him and wraps an arm around Summer, pulling her into the classroom. They both scan their wrists as they enter. There are very few seats, and most of them are already filled. They sit in the very back—which is only the sixth row.

A subject that Summer would be intrigued by goes unnoticed as she doodles on an Astropad that's been provided to each student at the beginning of their first class. It's a tablet-like computer where you can write or type on a touch screen keyboard. Summer used one in the hospital so it isn't anything new to her, but the other students are fascinated and have to go through a thirty minute lesson to learn how to work them.

A few times she swears she sees Gage walk by, along with other Leaguers—which shouldn't be abnormal since this is the building most of them stay in. But what is abnormal is that they constantly peek their heads into the classroom, scanning the rooms like they're searching for someone in particular. This is also strange since they can track every person behind the fence right now. She hates the feeling of someone observing her. It's become a regular occurrence lately, and she doesn't like it anymore now than she did before. She's the observer, not the other way around.

Before she knows it, Landon's dragging her from the classroom to go to another building, scanning their wrists again as they exit the classroom and again as they exit the Leaguer building. The next class is History and Pop Culture in Cherry Hall. This is also a subject she's highly interested in, and yet another she doesn't pay any attention to. Instead, she writes Gage a letter, then erases it, and then writes another one. She does this through the whole class, each one full of different emotions. Angry, pleading, upset, you name it . . . she probably feels it.

Before the class lets out, she writes Landon a note on her new Astropad. It says, "I'm going to eat lunch in my room today. Alone . . . please." She scoots it over to him. She just needs time to think without the interruption of the snobs from Beverly Hills or the sure to be upbeat conversation her friends will try to push onto her.

He reads it quickly and then glances up at her, reading her face. He makes an internal decision and then writes quickly across the surface of the Astropad. He passes it back to her, and she reads it. "Want me to walk you to your room?"

She shakes her head—she just wants to be alone. Weird, considering all the times being alone was the scariest thing on the planet.
CHAPTER 36: FLAMES

16 years old

Creamy mashed potatoes, beef that she's pretty sure is actually mow and a green vegetable that looks like rubber. Summer's plate of food is heavy and she knows it won't all be eaten. The doors to the Outlander's rooms all have locks, but no one has the keys so no one locks them—unless they know how to pick the lock, which she doesn't. Unlocked doors always make her nervous. You wanted to be alone, she reminds herself as she walks down the lane between buildings D and E. She reaches room number twenty and hesitates before opening it. After a deep breath, she turns the handle and steps inside.

There are roses everywhere: tucked in nooks, crannies, and lain out and across every available space. It's as if the room has caught flame with all the crimson. It's so shocking that Summer almost drops her plate of food. Her back hits the wall, and she gasps for breath. What's he trying to do to me? Doesn't he know this only makes it hurt worse? She closes her eyes, hoping that when she opens them again the flowers will be gone. At the same time, she hopes they'll still be there too. Stupid. Her eyes slide open slowly to see the rosy flames engulfing the room. The aroma is strong and wonderful—and she hates it. And loves it. For several moments she just sits there and stares, not really knowing what she should do or how she should feel. Then this morning replays in her head, Kayla leaning into Gage, one of his hands on her waist, the other around her, their eyes burning into each other's.

She brushes her hand across the table, and roses tumble to the ground like dark rubies scattering. Like fallen angels descending, dropping away just like her tears as they burn her cheeks like they're liquid fire. Searing, sparking, devouring. The plate clanks noisily against the wood as the food stares back at her in pity. Honestly? She's tired of everyone's pity! She doesn't need someone to look after her or to protect her. She was alone for years before Landon came around. No more roses. No more pitying stares and ridiculous mutant beef mocking her next to the watery potatoes mixing with the plastic-like vegetables.

Summer violently rips roses from drawers, cabinets, and vases. With an arm full of the most beautiful flower—now ruined forever—she stomps to the door, flings it open and tosses the roses outside. "Whoa!" says Gage under the rain of crimson roses.

Her eyes go wide, and she quickly slams the door in his face. She gathers more roses in her arms, bundles and bundles of them, and opens the door again. He's still standing there, his stupid, hypnotic green eyes pleading. "Summer," he says, holding his hands up. She throws the roses at his face, spins around, and slams the door again.

"Please," he pleads through the door.

There are flower petals everywhere; she's swimming in them, along with stems and leaves. Still, she sweeps more and more into her arms. It's no use, but she still does it. Opening the door for a third time, she tosses more roses, more petals . . . more of her anger out at him.

"Please," he begs again, his eyes filling with tears. "Give me a chance to explain!"

She wants to scream and yell and tell him that she doesn't want to hear his explanation—but she kind of does. She doesn't even bother to close the door again as she rushes around the room and gathers even more roses into her arms, showering Gage in lustrous petals.

"That girl—I don't even know who she is! She came on to me, and I told her no. She didn't like that and threw herself onto me," he cries out, and Summer pours more flowers, like a rainstorm of petals cascading down his blonde hair. "I was telling her I wasn't interested—that there was someone else who held my heart and that she needed to get off me! I swear!"

Summer, her arms and hands punctured and scraped from the thorns, collects more. Tears are streaming down her face, and his words sink into her skin, consuming and dominating her body. She crumples against the bed, the petals like a fragrant blanket over her skin.

Gage steps past the threshold and kneels before her. He's careful not to make any sudden movements, though she's past that when it comes to him. "It's you I want. It's you I care for. Before this have I ever done anything that would make you think otherwise?" His voice is so sincere, imploring her to see reason.

She glances up into his eyes, seeing the tears drying on his cheeks, and knows he isn't lying. It's a gut feeling. She believes him, and it only makes her more upset. Her stomach drops at the realization. Not only did she cause herself all this unnecessary grief, she hurt him in the process. Today she's the monster. Summer reaches up for him, and he engulfs her in a hug as he exhales a long breath in relief. "Thank you," he breathes and pulls her closer.

Her body still aches from all the trauma she's been through, mentally and physically, but she doesn't care. Not anymore. They're both on their knees in a storm of red, holding on to the one who cares about them. The solace she finds in his embrace is so exquisite it's nearly painful; still, she bathes in his warmth and strength. He pulls away and holds her cheeks between his large palms as if she's the most precious, most breakable object on the planet. His thumbs wipe away the residue of her tears as he half-smiles, still uncertain.

"You're wonderful, you know that?" he whispers. "I'd be insane to do anything to lose you." She returns his smile, and his grows in size before he leans forward and gently places a tender kiss on her lips. Summer's heart gives an extra squeeze for him. When he pulls away he murmurs, "You taste like roses."

Summer falls back on her feet and laughs aloud, her hand combing her hair, coming away with bits of petals and leaves. Gage stops her and begins to pick the debris from her hair. "We need to talk tonight. Something's going on outside the camp, and I'm worried for your safety."

Their eyes meet, and without a word, he can read her anxiety.

"I'll stop by here, okay? The boys' room is connected to yours, right?"

She nods, wondering what's going on that would concern them.

"It's almost time for your next class," he reminds. "How about I clean up here so you don't have to, okay?" When she doesn't nod or move, he stops pulling things from her hair and looks into her eyes. "Flower?"

The nickname's back, and her blood warms quickly. She sits up and wraps her arms around his neck, nods, and then goes in for the kiss, breathing him in. She's more aggressive this time, more eager. But it doesn't last—he pulls away and gently caresses her cheek. "Go to class," he urges. "If you don't you'll be put on their radar, and right now you don't want that."

Who? she wonders.

Then he says, "Trust me."

I do with my whole heart. Indeed, her life has turned into a roller coaster.
CHAPTER 37: LAWS

16 years old

As Summer makes her way between the buildings, her mind turns into a whirlwind of chaos. She's glad that everything has been cleared up with Gage, but his words now echo through her mind like a breaking tide crashing upon the shore. You'll be put on their radar, he said. Who's he talking about? she wonders. She's so consumed with these imaginary people that she runs right into Landon.

"Ducky!" He sounds relieved. "I was worried about ye." His dark eyes roam over her face, his concern turning into confusion as his eyebrows come together. "What's—" He glances over Summer's shoulder to see Gage leave the girls' room, and then his eyes swing back to hers. "Everything all right?"

She nods and grins widely at him, wondering what he must be thinking with the roses scattered all over the place outside.

He exhales a long breath. "Good, let's go to class before we're late."

They rush back to the Edward Complex where Laws: Environmental and Societal is located. Inside the classroom is a man in a business suit with sharp angles and perfectly ironed hems. Summer and Landon take seats at the very back again, pulling their Astropads from their back pockets and the pencil-like plastic piece that accompanies it.

"Ahem." The man clears his throat. "I'm Dr. Frankfurt. In this class we'll be discussing modern laws for the environment and society in general. I've been a lawyer for twenty years and a judge of the Phantomship community for ten. We'll start out with basic laws that have changed from the laws of two hundred years ago." Dr. Frankfurt turns around and wipes his hand across the air where a hologram appears before the class. As he speaks, the key points appear on the hologram.

"The air of two hundred years ago was toxic, and the climate was on a downward spiral. Scientists worked diligently for years to find a way to stop the pollution that was poisoning Earth," says Dr. Frankfurt, his voice dull, lulling Summer into relaxation.

"There are several new laws, but let's start with the basic," he drones on after explaining the change from oil to fusion energy, something that was covered in one of the previous classes, but one subject that Summer hadn't paid attention to considering where her head was at during the class.

"Most important environmental law: all toxins, waste, or other trash must be disposed of properly. All water, above and below ground, has been traced. If anyone breaks these laws, tracking them is not a problem. I know how people in the past would throw their trash out their windows as they drove down the road in their gas-guzzling vehicles. That will not be tolerated here. We want people to have their privacy, but sometimes we cannot accommodate that due to people's lack of good sense. Outside of the privacy of homes and some public buildings, all areas are monitored twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. You don't break this rule and you won't have any problems."

A lot of this information is very new for Summer, and she isn't quite sure what to think of how much they monitor everyone.

"We also don't tolerate the sport of hunting unless it's to provide food for the Federation, in which hunter's have to earn a license," says Dr. Frankfurt. Summer internally giggles at how nonchalant Jaden was about the whole thing.

"The penalty of breaking these laws is immediate death."

Silence sweeps through the room, cold and deadly.

"Isn't that a little much?" a girl asks timidly.

"We don't take these matters lightly, Casey," he says flatly. The fact he knows her name obviously takes her aback, and the eerie silence that follows sends chills down everyone's spines. Summer's no longer relaxed, but on high alert. They've already been "tagged" and can now easily be tracked and monitored. Step one toe out of line and your life could be forfeit. The whole idea makes Summer want to run away—and for the first time the camp doesn't seem so innocent nor the classes so fun.

"Let's move on to some of our societal laws. Murder, blackmail, stealing, or vandalism is not only cause for death, but for a public execution. These ways may seem crass and harsh, Outlanders, but understand this: without the imminent threat of death, these laws will not be taken as seriously as they should be. Two hundred years ago, even one hundred years ago, without these harsh laws, humans were slowly destroying the world. Any questions so far?" says Dr. Frankfurt all matter-of-factly.

Any answers are obvious, but Casey still raises her hand, and Summer can see her shaking from several rows back.

"Yes, Casey," says Dr. Frankfurt, gesturing for her to ask away.

"Are there no warnings, no trials . . . no second chances?" Her voice is so tiny that Summer has to lean in to hear her.

"Ah, I knew this would come up. It's rare that a trial's necessary; with the technology we have today, catching criminals in the act happens ninety-nine percent of the time. As I said before, I was a lawyer and am a judge now. I do hear cases and sometimes it truly is all a misunderstanding. But no, there are never any second chances for those that are proven guilty. It's unnecessary for us to have a trial with a jury of your peers when the proof is obvious via our cameras and neural transplants that the government can access when it's needed for a case. Any more questions?"

The room stays silent. Summer's sure that she won't be breaking any of those laws, but the thought of how quickly they kill people for their crimes is mind-boggling to say the least. She's seen beatings, brutal deaths, and other horrible things done in torture, but the fact that a group of people—a government—would allow a public execution stuns her.

"And let's continue," says Dr. Frankfurt as if this is nothing unusual. "Marriage, sex, and other interpersonal matters are no longer taken lightly as they were two hundred years ago. After the cure of AIDS and other STDS, scientists have been careful to make sure there are no other outbreaks of other kinds of sexually transmitted diseases. The neural transplant in each of us tests the blood on a weekly basis for any kind of illness and sends a signal to the closest doctor or hospital when something needs to be taken care of. That person is then contacted and asked to report to the hospital. To walk around sick or diseased is not an option. Canadians pride themselves in being healthy and living a longer, happier life than anyone in any other country. If you don't report to a doctor, one will be sent to you immediately to dispense appropriate medication or to perform any procedures to cure or treat whatever ailment or illness you have.

"Marriage is another issue that we will discuss in length in this class. This is another matter we do not take lightly. I know that only a hundred years ago people were getting married and divorced so quickly the whole thing was a sham, a thing to do when you were bored, on a whim when some man found some flighty bird to snuggle with one night and marry the next, only to get her pregnant, find out she's actually married to another man, and the whole thing ends up being a total disaster. That is not how we run things today, and I stress this," says Dr. Frankfurt, his eyes glowing hazel-like, "there are strict rules on who can and who cannot get married. This is something that's decided on by being tested using the Federation's trials."

"What?" a girl exclaims.

"That's right, Martha," says Dr. Frankfurt with a hand gesture saying I know it sounds silly, but it's not. "Marriage is an institution." His voice grows hard, and Martha, the poor girl in the front row, shrinks back. "When you find the person you're 'supposed to be with for the rest of your life,'"—he makes air quotes with his hands—"it's usually not real and changes down the road. Now we have something that's called an alliance, where a couple is committed for only a short time period. This is chosen by the Federation according to the couple's compatibility test results. After the alliance's time period has lapsed, and if the Federation finds the couple fit for marriage via a joining evaluation, they will be considered. Sometimes an alliance is sought for a second time.

"The joining evaluations are administered when a certified federal marriage decider follows the couple around for a two week period through covert means. Once it's established that a couple is fit to marry, they're given a short time frame to prepare their wedding rituals and wed. Once married, it's then law that they must stay married to that person for the rest of their lives. If this law is broken by either of them breaking their vows to the other, there are dire consequences that include the males losing important parts of their body that will prevent erection." He gestures between his legs, and the men in the class groan loudly. "And women have nerves surgically removed so they can no longer orgasm."

Several people in class gasp, some giggle, and some make gagging noises.

"This may seem extreme," continues Dr. Frankfurt, like the news isn't that disturbing, "but we promise that the process of removal is painless to both parties. Medicine is different than it once was; the whole idea of medicine from two hundred years ago is just barbaric. People no longer have to feel pain—actually, with the neural transplant in place, when one is in extreme pain, there's a signal that goes out to the nearest doctor who's then sent to them and given a dose of medication that lasts for however long the doctor deems necessary. Now, anymore questions on this topic?" he asks, his eyes scanning the room.

Everyone's too aghast to say anything. Summer's certainly been shaken by Dr. Frankfurt's nonchalance on the whole topic—all the topics, really.

"Now, let's continue. We no longer have prisons," says Dr. Frankfurt with a smile. There are a few exclamations around the room.

"What do you mean?" one boys says loudly.

"Yeah," another agrees. "I mean, what do you think this place is?"

"This," says Dr. Frankfurt, his voice growing loud over the mumbling students, "is not a prison. You're free to roam the boundaries of the camp. To you this may seem like prison, but you're not jailed here, only being protected from those on the outside who are against Outlanders. Until we are able to integrate you into society we must protect you." There's something in his voice that rubs Summer the wrong way. He's hiding something—she can see it in his eyes. What is it?
CHAPTER 38: SUSPICIOUS

16 years old

After class, Landon leads Summer outside for fresh air before they have to go to their next class: Space Exploration in the Edward Complex. They run into Jaden and Lucy who have just come out of their History and Pop Culture class in Cherry Hall. They exit together. The sun's still bright in the sky, and Summer's stomach starts to growl—her food from lunch is still on the table in their room, untouched.

"You look better," says Lucy with a smile, hooking her arm with Summer's.

"I think they made up," says Landon while glancing sideways at Summer questioningly. She nods quickly and smiles at all of them.

"That's good," says Jaden. "Now I don't have to kick his ass!"

"Where are you two going next?" asks Landon.

"Law class or something," says Lucy while looking at her wrist to confirm.

"That's in the Edward Complex, same as us," says Landon with a smirk. "Dr. Frankfurt is . . . interesting. We'll talk about it at dinner after you listen to what he has to say." Landon's expression turns grim. Summer understands—she's not quite sure what his whole spiel was on the Outlander camps not being a prison. Not that she really cares at this time—it's better than where she's been.

"What does that mean?" Jaden cocks her head to the side while her dark eyes flip between Landon and Summer.

"You'll understand after class," he replies and leaves it at that. They part ways and go to their next class.

The biggest question everyone has for the NASA representative is answered in their Space Exploration class. No one's living on other planets yet, but the idea is currently being researched and tested as the space program continuously gains more information about the galaxy and galaxies beyond. Apparently, the next big project is to try to find out what happens when they deploy a spaceship into a black hole. The funny thing is many scientists think they've already figured out the mysteries of a black hole and that's how so many people were transported two hundred years into the future. They suppose it's too much of a coincidence that it's exactly two hundred years down to the second. June 8th, 2010 at midnight: the day of the Exodus. June 8th, 2210 at midnight: the day over two hundred million people appeared from the Exodus.

On the other hand, they do find out that trash is now disposed of into space using spaceships that regularly leave the planet and go far enough away that the trash doesn't come back to Earth. Summer finds all of this information strangely fascinating.

During the class, Summer notices Leaguers passing by the door and peeking in, searching, just like with her other class. One or two might be normal, but it's constant; and every time it seems that their eyes lock on her. She's not even in the Leaguer building anymore. By the end of class she's squirming uncomfortably in her seat. Landon notices this too, and as they walk out he asks, "Is there something going on I need to know about? All of those Leaguers were staring at you. There were like twenty of them—that's strange, right?"

She uses her Astropad as they walk toward the cafeteria and writes, "I have no idea. It was strange." They exit from a side door to get away from the stares of the Leaguers as they walk by.

At this point Summer's stomach is roaring like a caged lion being teased with fresh steak. She can't wait to eat. She was used to skipping a meal or three—it was no big deal, but since the hospital and eating three meals a day regularly, her stomach's grown accustomed to it. They're about to walk past two small maintenance buildings when a figure suddenly jumps out and pulls Summer and Landon into the shadows between the buildings. Her automatic reaction to cover herself kicks in, and her arms fly up to conceal her face.

"Flower, it's me," whispers Gage apologetically.

The nickname compels her to drop her arms immediately. Gage's frantic expression makes Summer's once roaring stomach curdle like sour milk. Her heart skips a few beats, even though she isn't sure what she should be frightened of, her body just automatically reacts to his appearance: disheveled hair, wide eyes, his fidgeting stance.

"Sorry," says Gage breathlessly. "This is the only safe place in the camp where there aren't cameras."

"What's this about?" asks Landon angrily, folding his arms. He's still upset over the Kayla incident from earlier.

"I couldn't have Summer going to the cafeteria. They're waiting." Gage meets Summer's eyes. He's seriously worried and scared.

Three guards burst from the side door that they just exited. When they don't find anyone, they start barking orders to search for "the blonde girl" and then they scatter like bees from a disturbed hive. Gage pulls her farther into the shadows of the two small buildings.

"Where'd she go?" one of them asks as he passes.

"I don't know, but they won't be happy if we don't bring her to them," replies another.

Once they pass, Landon asks, "They? Who?" He looks between the two, and his arms drop from his stiff position as he deciphers the horror in their eyes.

Summer looks over and, with her Astropad still out, writes quickly, "I don't know." They both look to Gage for answers.

Gage's voice lowers as if there's someone nearby. "Have you ever heard of the Secret Clock Society?" The color drains from Summer's face, and her breath picks up pace. She exchanges a petrified look with Landon.

"I take that as a 'yes.' " Gage backs away, and he pulls at his hair. "How the hell do you know them?" The hysteria in his voice doesn't go unnoticed.

"That's who we were running from when our ship exploded," explains Landon, his voice tight.

Gage takes several deep breaths while Summer retreats against the wall behind her, the memories of that night flooding back in flickering images. With everything going on, she's forgotten about that night: meeting Jaden for the first time since she was four, running from the people who had boarded the ship and taken the crew captive, hitting the man repeatedly with the broom stick, and the woman who held the gun up and almost shot Landon. Her throat tightens at the thought—who are these people?

Gage suddenly starts speaking rapidly in French, a language she didn't even know he spoke. He's obviously upset over the news, and this secret society has clearly disturbed him just as much as Jaden. "Okay, I need to get you out of here. Both of you. Your friends too, actually. They'll be in danger if we leave without them," says Gage quickly. "Go between these buildings here"—he points to the Leaguer building and Cherry Hall—"and then around building A. Stay behind the dorms. I'll meet you at your room after collecting the others. Okay?"

They both nod at him, even Landon's speechless.
CHAPTER 39: PUNCH

16 years old

Landon and Summer rush toward the back of the Leaguer building. Since class is over with there's no one there, not even Leaguers, so they're able to race to the end of the building without being spotted. Her heart beats roughly at the thought of being caught, though she finds it kind of silly, too. If they really wanted her they could easily use GPS and the cameras that are hidden everywhere to track and catch her. Landon peeks around the corner and then throws his back to the building.

"Four Leaguers," he whispers.

Their voices are muffled by the distance. Landon and Summer exchange anxious looks as they press themselves up against the brick wall. If she could, Summer would dissolve into the brick and disappear. She wants to just tell Landon to go on without her and she'll work it out, but knows he won't go for it. The Leaguers' voices grow louder as they approach the back of the building. Her eyes dart around, desperately trying to find a place to hide, but there's no place. Landon's clearly doing the same thing and also comes up with nothing.

Gage suddenly runs around the other side of the building and races to meet them. Now she's really worried—are they about to be caught? Will these Secret Clock Society people finally capture her? Why do they want her in the first place? Gage places a finger to his lips and beckons them to him as he gets closer. The Leaguers aren't far from rounding the building and Landon gestures frantically that there are people coming. Gage shakes his head, saying he already knows. The Leaguers round the corner just as Gage catches up with them.

They're laughing and joking around—not even paying attention to them. Gage gestures for Landon to go and then scoops Summer up into his arms and plants a kiss on her lips. He turns her away from the Leaguers so his body's protecting her from their view. She's trying desperately to pay attention to what's going on, but as soon as his lips touch hers she can't even remember her name, let alone that people are looking for her. Whistles break out from the Leaguers as they laugh. Gage pays them no attention as he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her closer to his body. Her heart's pounding in her throat between his kiss and the danger in it all. His lips are very soft and eager against hers, his tongue warm in her mouth. Her stomach clenches blissfully.

A door opens and shuts after a moment, the voices of the Leaguers gone. Gage doesn't break the kiss. Her palms are on his chest, and she can feel his heart pulsating like an accelerated clock, like chimes echoing through his body in waves. He languidly pulls away only a centimeter, his breath caressing her face in hot currents. "You still taste like roses," he barely murmurs. Their lips scarcely touch, another kiss that sends shivers into her heart, down through her stomach and makes her legs tingle and weaken.

Someone clears their throat next to them, and they jump, Summer's throat constricting in fear. It's just Landon, though he's wearing a frustrated expression. "I understand why you did that," says Landon, "but they're inside now. Can we please get going before more Leaguers show up?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Of course," agrees Gage and backs away from Summer. He reaches out and takes her hand, leading her toward the end of the building, Landon ahead of them.

"All clear," informs Landon as he peers around the corner again. They rush across the grass and slow some once they're between building A and B.

The rest of the way is Leaguer free, though they run into another snag. Kayla and her crew are exiting room twenty-one in building C, right at the edge. She catches sight of Gage and Summer and stops her posse from moving forward. Summer notices that there's someone lacking from her group—her tall and detoxing boyfriend, Carter.

"Great," says Gage under his breath. Landon's clearly not happy about this development either by the disgusted look clouding his features.

"Hey Appleton," says Kayla sweetly, sauntering toward him.

He gives her a tight nod, still holding Summer's hand. But Kayla ignores them all, only paying attention to Gage. She moves in closer, and her fingers trail down his chest. "Shall we pick up where we left off this morning?" she whispers with a tinkling laugh.

Summer feels sick to her stomach all over again and has an overwhelming urge to cause Kayla a whole lot of physical pain. Gage only holds on to Summer tighter, even pulling her closer. Kayla ignores this too, her voice turning soft as silk. "How about you dump these low income degenerates and come with me?" She waggles her eyebrows and moves in closer until her chest touches his.

Summer can't take it anymore and yanks free from Gage's grip, even though he tries to hold on to her. Landon catches Summer's eye and gives her an encouraging smile. She takes a couple of deep, even breaths as Gage stutters out, "No, thank you."

Summer taps Kayla's shoulder, ready to peel her off him if she has to. She's never felt so protective—or is it possessive?—over anyone before, but she sees Gage as hers, not something she's willing to share with another in the way Kayla wants. Kayla untangles her arms from around his neck and trails her hands down his chest again. She turns around and glares at Summer. "What do you want?"

Summer pulls her fist back and snaps it forward, punching Kayla right in the eye. There's a crunching noise, and pain explodes in Summer's knuckles. She shakes her hand and then holds it against her chest, but the glorious sensation of punching Kayla overwhelms the sting. Kayla's friends burst into laughter after a few seconds of stunned silence.

"Yes!" Landon fist-pumps the air.

"Ahh! You little bitch!" screams Kayla, her hand covering her left eye as she reaches for Summer with the other, her hand in the shape of a claw.

Summer uses her new boots to kick yet another person who's wronged her since she's arrived at the camp. The tip of her boot connects with Kayla's shin, and she crumples to the ground, howling in agony—one hand covering her eye, the other over her leg. Summer wants to shout, "Stay away from my man," but the words won't form on her tongue.

"Stay away," spits Landon for her, and Summer grins at him gratefully.

"I'm Summer's," says Gage as he stands over Kayla, his shadow stretching across her. "Not yours. Get over it." He takes Summer's hand and literally steps over Kayla as she stares up at them in pain and horror, her blonde hair dirty with debris.
CHAPTER 40: CLOCK

16 years old

When they enter into Summer's room, she notices two things immediately. First, there's one vase full of roses—the rest are gone, even the roses she tossed outside. Second, everyone's already there. Silence charges through the room like Lucy's horse with a pink handprint on its behind, subduing the light chatter. Rob and Jaden lean against the headboard of the bed that Jaden shares with Lucy, while Avery and Lucy sit at the tiny table. All eyes land on the three of them, and Landon goes to Lucy and sits at her feet. Summer takes the other bed, and Gage stays standing near the front door.

"I'm sorry for not explaining," says Gage, glancing at the bed and then the table. "Now I will." He takes a deep breath as if preparing to announce bad news. "There was a meeting a week ago at the Phantomship City Center for all Leaguers who weren't on duty. At first I thought it was just going to be more news about other Outlander camps and things going on in other countries. Routine. But this time it was different—there was a group of people who had come to speak with us. They called themselves the Secret Clock Society."

Summer's mouth goes dry as she exchanges a knowing glance with Landon. Jaden gasps and stands immediately, the bed squealing in protest at her movements. "What? They're here?"

"Let me continue," says Gage and gestures for her to take a seat. "I'll explain everything I know, just give me a few minutes."

"It's okay," says Rob and reaches out for Jaden's hand. She lowers herself back onto the bed and leans against the headboard again, the springs in the mattress screaming in protest. "Let him finish."

Gage nods at Rob. "They informed us that there's an Outlander who they know is responsible for the time travel." Gage reaches behind him and pulls something out of his pocket. It's a folded up piece of paper which he gently unfolds and holds up. "This is the sketch they offered us. Look familiar?"

There are definitely discrepancies, but it's so clearly Summer that everyone's eyes flash from the drawing to Summer's face. Fear coils around her like a tangle of ivy, choking and cutting off her oxygen.

Gage takes a deep breath, his green eyes apologetic. "This is why you were attacked outside of the hospital, Summer," he explains, staring only at Summer as he continues. "Part of it was because you're an Outlander, but mostly you fit the description. These fliers have been posted all over town, shown on billboards, plastered on every storefront, and flashed on holograms in Phantomship, and really, the rest of the country too. I've prevented many of the Leaguers from reporting you, but I knew it couldn't last."

"What does this mean?" asks Lucy, her voice wavering. "What do they want from Summer anyway? And why would they think Summer, of all people, are responsible for this?"

"If they find her they'll kill her!" exclaims Jaden, unable to contain her burst of anger. "I know these people—they bought me from my previous owners. They can't be trusted."

"That's what I was afraid of." Gage's hand runs through his hair again, making it stand on end. "There's more. These people told us that the girl in the drawing—Summer—needs to be brought in so they can stop her from doing anything like this again. They called you"—he glances at Summer—"a 'time bomb.' " All eyes swivel to her, and she looks at Landon. They both heard them call someone a time bomb on the boat, but it didn't make sense until now.

"No one would believe them so easily, so they provided proof of who you are," continues Gage, his voice rough and uneven. He crosses the room, less than ten paces, drops before her, and gazes into her sapphire eyes. "I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to spit it out." He sighs and shakes his head as if aligning his thoughts. "Summer, you weren't born—you were created by the Secret Clock Society in an Oxford laboratory."

What? she mouths at him, not comprehending.

"The whole point of them creating you was to have you grow up under one of the doctors on the project—the Hourglass Project—as their child. When you became old enough, they would train you to use the gift they bestowed in you: to travel time and be their own personal clock. According to the society, the only way to build a time machine is to have it inside a living organism." Gage pauses and reaches for Summer's trembling hands. "They realized they made a mistake when you were four years old—a glitch, a wrong calculation—and the project was supposed to be terminated. The plan was to kill you."

Summer closes her eyes and shakes her head as memories explode in her mind like sparkling bombs of horrifically vibrant and scintillating colors from a moving car. She remembers the ride that started it all—the car ride that changed her life. It can't be true. I'm not an . . . experiment! I'm a person. A human being. Right?

"Flower," whispers Gage intensely, his tone embracing her like the swirling sea winds. His warm palm cups the side of her face as his thumb caresses her cheek, the touch a warm ray of sunshine. "Doctor Waverly, your mother, ran away with you. She wouldn't let them kill you so she ran, even though she knew these people would find you eventually. And they did—on the dock in Portsmouth. Except, the Society didn't offer the kidnappers they hired enough money, so they sold you to a pirate who promised to keep you away from the Society. Not because they wanted to protect you, but just because the Society pissed off the kidnappers. It was a game to them."

His words are like a cold knife at her neck, like a whip biting into her skin. Her eyes sting with the fear that's now so tangible in the room you can sense it writhing and expanding in the air.

"Oh, sweet, sweet Summer. They never told you, did they?" he asks softly.

Summer shakes her head, her eyes locking on his.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, only for her. He stands, bends over, and kisses her forehead gently before turning around and facing everyone else who's staring at the two of them wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

"Right now," Gage says, "the only thing we have going for us is that they don't have official access to GPS tracking and cameras—but that isn't to say that they haven't found ways to gain it—or are close to gaining it. Luckily, we have many Leaguers on your side, Summer. The problem is that we have many who don't care or just don't like you. You story has inspired many people—your struggle to stay alive in such a cruel world. You've already made leaps and bounds since you've been here. I hate to lose our progress because of some stupid secret society."

There's a knock at the door, and everyone jumps. "It's just Cameron," informs Gage as he opens the door.

Cameron dashes in and closes the door, her chest heaving, clearly out of breath. Her black hair's disheveled, and her brown eyes are wide. "They're asking the other Outlanders questions about Summer," she gasps. "She can't stay here any longer! That Kayla girl's blabbering to the other Leaguers all about this psycho blonde girl named Summer. Emma and Zoe are trying to distract them all by sending them the wrong direction while Hunter and Ethan work on the outer perimeter. Now—" She holds up a large bag. "Who's coming with us?"

"I'm so ready to get away from these rich, ugly gits," says Rob.

"I go where Summer goes," adds Landon. Soon, everyone's agreeing and almost causing Summer to tear up at everyone's willingness to stand up for her after everything they just heard.

"All right then. Here's a bag full of modern clothes. Go through and put on whatever you can find that fits you. You'll look less conspicuous," says Cameron. "And this is for you." She tosses something at Summer who ducks and raises her arms reflexively, her heart jumping in her chest.

"Cameron!" chides Gage. "You couldn't walk five feet?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Summer," apologizes Cameron with a grimace.

Summer reaches down and picks up the bottle Cameron threw at her. She flips it over and over, looking up at Cameron questioningly.

"It's temporary hair dye. Follow the directions." Cameron stares at her and waits. "Hurry! We don't have long; get Lucy to help you." Chaos ensues as everyone begins to change clothes, and Lucy dyes Summer's hair a rich black. It only takes a few minutes before everyone's changed and Summer's clothes and hair are so different that she looks like a rocker chick—completely the opposite of what she's used to. Lucy's highly impressed at how quickly the hair dye works and continues to touch Summer's wet and tangled hair in awe.

"Is everyone ready?" asks Cameron. "Emma and Zoe are waiting for us."

They're all ready—eager and terrified, but ready. Summer still can't believe that all these people are willing to break her out of this place when she might have been the one to cause them to time travel in the first place, leading them to this camp. She's never dreamed of being so lucky.

Gage reaches for her and pulls her close. "Then there's only one thing left to do now . . . I'm going to commit treason."
CHAPTER 41: FIRECRACKER

16 years old

The sun hasn't faded yet, which makes their escape a little more difficult. Or obvious. So instead of running behind each building, begging to be caught, they go through the crowd in the courtyard. They blend in. Because of Summer's drastic change in clothes and hair, no one gives her a second look as Gage escorts her through the bedlam in the courtyard, most of them still eating dinner. He's careful to clear the way so she's not overcrowded. The females in the courtyard have eyes glued to Gage, sparkling like they're worshipping his every muscle. But their eyes always seem to trail down his arm and find Summer's hand attached to his, and then they glare at her. She can't help but stare at the ground as they walk between tables full of people, wishing to dissolve into the ground.

All of her friends have spread out in groupings so they're less conspicuous, though they plan to meet at the parking lot behind the Edward Complex. Many of the Leaguers filter into the mass of people, stopping before every blonde they see. One of the Leaguers rushes up to them, and Gage quickly pulls Summer behind him. The Leaguer's skin is covered with colorful tattoos, all the way up his neck and down his exposed, muscled arms.

"Hey, Appleton!" the man says, out of breath.

"Kevin Raclaw," greets Gage stoically. Summer recognizes the name and knows this man's in charge of the camp and doesn't care much for the Outlanders. This could set them back and possibly ruin their plans if Gage doesn't find a way to dump him quickly.

"Whatever happened to that hot little blonde girl you liked?" asks Kevin nonchalantly, though the undertone isn't friendly. He sweeps his brown hair from his dark eyes that search the throng of people. "You know they'll want to check her out—she looks too much like the sketch they provided." His voice lowers as his eyes land on her. "If you ask me, I think it's her."

Summer wants to melt into the ground, just knowing he can see right through the black hair dye and dark clothes.

Gage promptly relinquishes Summer's hand and steps away, pulling Kevin with him. "You should really keep your voice down," Gage scolds, and Kevin's eyes snap to his, abandoning his penetrating stare on Summer. "Don't tell this one behind me," he whispers with a tilt of his head at Summer, "but I'm supposed to be meeting that hot blonde behind building K in twenty minutes." He elbows Kevin, and they both chuckle. "The blonde? She's a firecracker that one—so if you're planning on going back there, first make sure you give me time to finish up, and secondly, bring backup."

Kevin's eyes flick to Summer's, and she glances down quickly to avoid his stare. "You're a goldrod, Appleton!"

"No Kevin, I'm smart. Now if you don't mind"—his thumb stabs over his shoulder at Summer—"I only have twenty minutes, if you know what I mean." There's a lilt in his voice.

"By all means," Kevin says with a chuckle. "I've got an Outlander to find."

Kevin strides away, and Gage turns and reaches for Summer. When Kevin's out of hearing range Gage says, "Now we definitely don't have much time, but at least I sent them to the opposite end of the camp." He lets out a long breath.

She grips his hand firmly, and he leads her away from the courtyard and to the left between the Leaguer building and cafeteria until they're on the outskirts of the camp. They stride amid the humming electrical fence and the Leaguer building. Only a hundred feet ahead of them is Cameron, Rob, and Jaden, and a hundred feet behind them is Lucy, Avery, and Landon. It's just now six in the evening, and the sun's at a slant in the sky, blinding Summer as they reach the Edward Complex, the building in the far corner of the camp. Gage stops abruptly and pulls Summer away from the side of the building so they're directly in front of it. Cameron, Rob, and Jaden are already past the building, though Lucy, Landon, and Avery stop.

Landon moves close to Summer. "Ducky, are ye going to be okay with this plan? We'll all be here for ye—we're in this together."

Gage quickly wraps an arm around Summer as she nods. "Here's where things become tricky. Now we have to make it through the gate without the alarms going off. Because of your neural transplants, if you leave the perimeter without permission alarms will alert the Leaguers in and out of the camp. These alarms are all silent—but luckily you have Cameron and me to tell you if they've been activated." He taps his temple. "But we're in the deepest pile of splash if they are. The other hard part? Cameras are everywhere. Today I brought, ironically enough, my Outlander with me. It's the largest on-road vehicle they make and has no windows in the back—easy to hide all of you. You'll go through the building here." His pivots around, turning Summer with him, and points at the Edward Complex's entrance. "Follow the hallway until you're on the other end. Wait for me to signal you then run to me, okay?"

Nervous mumbles of approval meet his words.

"Where's Jaden and Rob?" asks Lucy with a frown.

"They're fine," answers Gage. "We don't have much time, so go!"

They dash toward the front door of the building, though Gage stops Summer before she takes off. "You make sure you're the first out that door, understand?" His green eyes bore into hers, imploring her to do as he says. She gives a tiny nod. "Good. Now go before they get too far ahead." He leans down and gently places a kiss on her forehead before he turns and vanishes around the corner of the building.

Summer springs into motion and races toward the entrance door that Landon holds open. Once inside, the hallway seems to swallow them whole, the lights are off and only the sun's slanting rays from the backdoor's window illuminate the hallway. Lucy and Avery already wait at the backdoor, their backs against the wall as if hiding from someone on the other side. Landon grasps Summer's hand and pulls her along, though they come to a skidding halt when a door opens and Dr. Frankfurt steps out, cleaning his classes and not paying attention.

"Oh! There you are Dr. Frankfurt," exclaims Landon in relief, as if the whole point of them running down the hallway is to catch him.

Dr. Frankfurt jumps in slight surprise and puts his glasses back on. "You know," he says absentmindedly, "I really should just get the eye surgery, but the glasses make me look more scholarly, don't you think?" He blinks at them, focusing his eyes.

"Of course," agrees Landon without pause, slightly out of breath.

"So what's it you need that can't wait until tomorrow?" asks Dr. Frankfurt with raised eyebrows.

"This is going to be really embarrassing," Landon begins, "but ye never really explained the whole sex thing and the laws surrounding it?" He makes sure Dr. Frankfurt can see that he's holding Summer's hand. At this Summer begins to blush furiously, helping his farce out. "And ye know . . . we want to . . ." The lie slides off his tongue so smoothly it surprises Summer, though that doesn't stop her from being mortified.

"Ah, I see," says Dr. Frankfurt, removing his glasses and cleaning them again, as if this act will prevent him from having to look at them as he answers. "There are no laws against having sex with another, but one must be cautious and use appropriate protection. Though, I guess they don't provide protection here, do they?" He pauses and places his glasses back on his face, pushing them up his nose. "If you're serious about Summer, then perhaps I can provide you with the appropriate protection, yes? Can you wait a day?"

"Um, yes sir, we can," replies Landon casually.

The fact he knows Summer's name makes her shiver, just as it did when he knew people's names in class. She knows running into Dr. Frankfurt is so not good and Landon feels the same, she can tell. Their palms grow sweaty, and she can feel his heart beat quicken. She's trying her hardest not to physically tremble.

"All right, well you two better be getting back to your rooms. I've got to lock up," says Dr. Frankfurt, closing the door behind him and fumbling with his keys. "Damn these old locks. How did you ever use keys?"

While Dr. Frankfort's back is turned, Landon gestures for Lucy and Avery to go ahead as they wave frantically and point at the door. Avery nods his head at them, and then they stealthily open the door and slip through, closing it with care.

"You know what?" says Landon. "Why don't you let me help you lock up?"

Dr. Frankfurt grunts an approval and hands him the keys. Landon quickly locks the classroom door and begins to walk down the hallway with Summer in tow. She has no idea what game he's playing, but she goes along with it. She peeks over her shoulder and sees Dr. Frankfurt walk into another room. Landon picks up his pace until they reach the exit. He quickly opens the door and shoves Summer outside where the sun blinds her. Her arm automatically flies up to shield her eyes. The air smells like freedom.

"It has to be this way," whispers Landon hastily behind her. "If we both go he'll become suspicious." And then he closes the door. She twists around instantly and notices Landon isn't there. Then there's a click as the door locks. She knows if she pounds on the door Dr. Frankfurt will wonder what's up, but, at the same time, she wants to anyway. Instead, she grabs the door's handle and jerks it down with all her strength, begging it to open, but it doesn't budge. We can't leave without Landon! We just can't.

But then arms enclose around her waist and yank her away. In the dying sun she can see Landon's downcast face through the window right before he pivots and steps away.
CHAPTER 42: VORTEX

16 years old

Summer struggles against the iron muscles of Gage as he whispers frantically in her ear, "He's doing this to rescue you. You have to let him go!"

She knows this, but she doesn't want to—she'd rather give herself to the Secret Clock Society than this. When the Leaguers find out Landon's involved in their escape they'll kill him. Their laws are so firm and final—he'll have no chance against them. There's nothing Gage can say that will make this all right. She continues to struggle, but he's having none of that. He picks her up with an arm around her waist and hauls her over to his sleek vehicle with no edges, all just smooth curves and shiny, sparkling-silver paint.

Jaden and Rob are yelling at each other near the parking lot's entrance, and from the small glimpse Summer receives, Cameron's holding them apart while beckoning the Leaguers at the gate to come and help. It's a ruse, just like Landon with the keys.

Lucy and Avery pull her into the back of Gage's vehicle as he gently sets her down. She tries to break free, but Lucy only holds on to her tighter, her grip surprisingly strong. "I'm sure he'll make it out of there in time," soothes Lucy. It's obvious she's lying by the slight quiver in her voice. She's not convincing anyone, not even herself, and the pain's so obvious in Lucy's green eyes that they turn into pools of darkness inside the car.

Gage's eyes are heavy with sympathy as he disappears behind the sliding door as it closes. Now they're all cast in shadows. Only a small amount of light from the front window trickles in from the fading sun so all she can see is the outline of Avery's face across from her with his bright red hair. Lucy pulls Summer farther into the vehicle which has bench seats on all sides. Her grip soon becomes a comforting hug as she rocks them both back and forth, her chin resting on Summer's shoulder. She's not sure what it is about Lucy, but she relaxes into her embrace and lets the weight of it all just fall away. Just for a second. A fraction of a second. The door on the opposite side slides open, and light floods in as two shadows hop into the back, laughing hysterically. It's Jaden and Rob, completely absorbed in each other. "I can't believe you called that guard a 'skanky, scrotum-chewing, anal discharge-licking prat'!"

That lifts eyebrows.

They both burst into laughter. "Yeah, but the face he was making, all blowfish-like as he fumed . . . I couldn't help it! I'd make that same face if I had chewed on—"

"That's enough," says Gage, cutting off Rob and hopping behind the wheel. His door begins to slide shut while the passenger side opens, Cameron practically diving in.

"Drive!" shouts Cameron. "Emma and Zoe are at the gate. Hunter and Ethan have sent the other Leaguers to the corner where Summer's supposed to be in a few minutes according to Kevin. I guess you planted that little lie?"

Gage nods and gives the car commands. It starts up and speeds toward the gate without him moving a muscle.

"Wait!" screams Jaden, causing the car to shutter in confusion. "Where's Landon?"

"He was held up by Dr. Frankfurt," answers Avery regretfully, his eyes casting downward. Gage is arguing with the car's computer to get it to move again. Rob and Jaden finally soak in the atmosphere in the vehicle and can see the pain etched into every line, every single inch of skin on Summer's face.

"We can't leave without him!" insists Jaden, her dark eyes capturing Summer's with a horror-struck expression.

"We don't have time," argues Cameron as the vehicle speeds forward again.

Summer looks at Jaden pleadingly, hoping she'll push the issue for her, but she doesn't. No one in the back will even make eye contact with her. She yanks free from Lucy's loose hold and crawls toward the front, reaching her hand forward to write on Gage's palm.

"Summer . . ." he trails off, his voice weak. He offers his hand with a tiny sigh that he tries to withhold.

"Please," she writes over and over across his skin.

"If I have to pick between you or him, it's going to be you," admits Gage quietly, his eyes on the road. "Always you." The last part is barely audible.

"I'd pick him," she writes. "Not me."

Cameron and Gage glance at each other, though neither of them speak. He slows at the gate, and all the doors slide open automatically. Before anyone can reach out for Summer, she's flying out the door and running down the asphalt toward the Edward Complex. Shouts erupt behind her, but suddenly she sees Landon sprinting toward her, and she can't help but pick up her pace and run to him. Several Leaguers are racing behind him, trying to use their high-tech devices to subdue him, but he avoids them.

"Ducky, go!" he cries. "I'm right behind you!"

She slows and pivots around, only to run into Gage's hard chest. His arms automatically wrap around her, their hearts beating wilding against each other, right before he scoops her up and dashes toward the Outlander. Is she really that slow he needs to carry her? Honestly? She doesn't mind because it means she can be just that much closer to him. What has this man done to her? They're running from Leaguers with weapons, and she's swooning over being close to Gage?

Zoe and Emma are talking quickly with Cameron and everyone else in the back, handing them something. Landon swiftly catches up just as Gage is practically tossing her into the back, not as gentle as before. There's an urgency now that wasn't there only minutes before. Jaden immediately hugs Summer over Rob's lap and reaches for Landon's hand as he squeezes in beside Lucy who practically breaks into tears when she sees him, hugging on to him desperately.

"Put this on, Summer. You too, Landon." Zoe tosses a headband to Summer and an earpiece to Landon. Everyone else is already sporting headbands or earpieces except Cameron and Gage. The Leaguers are catching up with them, and Gage shouts a command at the vehicle, the doors sliding shut.

Summer runs a hand through her hair and tucks the headband behind her ears, holding the silky black strands at bay. She's still not used to the dark color, and sometimes it causes her to jump when it falls in her face. Immediately after she lets go of the headband, a ringing starts in her ears, and she can't focus on anything as her head begins to ache horribly. People are talking around her, but she doesn't understand anyone. She can feel the movement of the car under her, the anxiety as thick as honey in the air, but she can't pay attention.

"I think something's wrong with Summer," she finally hears someone say. This is followed by many people calling her name and gentle hands holding her face, checking her forehead for fever, and then catching her as she falls forward when her body goes limp. The world swirls around her like a kaleidoscope's vortex of images, vomiting out measured patterns and colors. Spinning . . . spinning . . . spinning . . . There's a screech of tires. She sees Landon's dark eyes beneath his blonde eyebrows and then . . .

It all goes black.
Only those who will risk going too far can

possibly find out how far one can go.

T.S. Eliot

PART THREE

THE IMPOSSIBLE
CHAPTER 43: MAGNETIC

16 years old

There's a throbbing behind Summer's eyes that pulses as if it's filling her brain with too much blood. It quickly goes away when all the events of fleeing the Outlander camp come back to her like a gigantic wave crashing over her head. Her sapphire eyes pop open to reveal Gage; her head's in his lap, and he's absentmindedly stroking her hair. "It's been ten minutes," he's saying to someone, "and we need to find a place to stop for the night. The Leaguers aren't far behind, and we need to hide." Summer stretches, and Gage's emerald eyes snap down to her, wild with distress.

"Is she awake?" asks Landon softly.

Gage nods. "Flower?" he whispers and lightly brushes hair from her face. "Are you okay? What hurts?" His palm's already there and waiting.

"I'm fine," she writes slowly. "What happened?"

"The headband—it's magnetic and destroys the neural implant's ability to transmit your location. Zoe didn't know it'd have that kind of reaction. No one's ever had that kind of reaction, actually." Gage sighs. "I was afraid to remove it, though, in case it affected your implant only temporarily. First, I checked you over to see if the Leaguers had injected you with anything while they were shooting at Landon. But when I didn't find anything, and you didn't wake up, I had to remove the headband."

Summer automatically reaches up to touch her ear where the implant is, and Gage places his hand over hers. "Cameron, where are we?" he asks quickly, worried now, as Summer sits up and sees the world fly by the front window in a crimson and orange blur with streaks of silver from other cars and buildings.

"Not far enough. The news is blaring about the blonde Outlander that's broken free with a band of friends," she informs. "No mention of help from any Leaguers—which means Ethan was able to turn the cameras off for us."

"That's good news," says Gage, relieved. "Are they all still meeting us in the Midwest Providence tomorrow?"

"Yes, Hunter's father owns a house in the middle of nowhere in Illinois that's a few hundred years old. He promises no cameras and says he'll take a hovercraft there tonight to check the place over first."

"What about your neural implants?" Jaden asks warily. "Don't you think it's silly for the ones who broke us free not to have that taken care of?"

"Doctor Rose manually removed our GPS tracking devices two days ago," says Cameron with a smile as she leans over the front seat. "She took a liking to Summer when she was in the hospital."

Avery suddenly starts to shout wildly with his hands waving around frantically, diving in and out of his red hair. Soon Lucy's joining him, stabbing her finger at the window. Funnily enough, Summer looks for a spider. "Turn around!" Avery finally yells to Cameron. "You're going to wreck us!"

"What?" Cameron swivels around and checks all the gauges that glow neon blue and green on the glass. "What are you seeing that I'm not?" Her voice grows panicky, her hands flailing.

Gage bursts into laughter as Summer looks between everyone in confusion. "Nothing's wrong, Cameron! They just aren't used to seeing a car on autopilot, that's all."

"Autopilot?" Lucy's voice squeaks.

"That's not what I mean!" Avery practically screams. And then they all see what he's freaking out over. Black cars with flashing lights are stopped up ahead, and more fly past in droves.

"Blimey," says Rob dryly. "I knew it was too easy."

"Seatbelts," commands Gage. Straps automatically wrap around everyone in the back of the car, and for a moment, Summer freaks out over being tied down. "This car has Hover Mode, Cameron," he continues as calmly as any veteran Leaguer going into battle. "Use it."

"We aren't in a fly zone!" she argues.

Everyone in the back's eerily silent.

"Okay. Then I guess we'll have to stop, and let them check the vehicle," says Gage evenly.

"Hold on!" instructs Cameron as her fingers quickly move across the glass before them.

Traffic's bottlenecking as they move closer and closer to the roadblock. Horns blare indignantly as they speed up toward the mass of cars. Summer's heart races at their impending collision, but then their car rises into the air and scrapes the top of the first car with a jerk and grating noise, barely missing the second.

"Hell yes!" whoops Cameron.

Summer's practically crushed Gage's poor hand and quickly releases pressure when she realizes this. Everyone else is speechless for several seconds as they move higher into the air, though the cars are still only thirty to forty feet below them. Sirens ring out deafeningly as they pass over the roadblock.

"Bloody brilliant!" cheers Rob with a crooked grin at Jaden.

Several police cars rise into the air and take chase—the problem is that Summer can't see out of the vehicle except from the front. This only makes her heart jump wildly and sweat bead up on her forehead. Gage can see the alarm in her wide eyes and squeezes her hand reassuringly.

"Things are about to get really interesting," says Cameron as if this is something she's done a million times. Perhaps they train for things like this—or have done it before.

The car hovers over the speeding traffic on the freeway, the sirens loud next to, and behind, them. Cameron's fingers speedily move across the glass while she mumbles commands that Summer can't make out. The car drops down in the middle of the moving cars, sparks fly at the contact, and Summer's stomach jumps into her throat as the back end slams to the ground with a bounce. She feels like she's been put in a blender. The car begins to speed up, weaving in and out of traffic with grace and surprising ease, moving only to within inches of other vehicles. There are two police cars ahead of them, but Cameron keeps away from them effortlessly. It's as if she's done this a million times before and can predict their every reaction.

They suddenly slide sideways into another car as a police cruiser slams into their side. Summer wants to close her eyes, but she can't manage it—they seem to be stitched open. The seatbelt bites into her shoulder, and her head jerks from side-to-side. They flip over another car, and instead of landing on its roof and crushing everyone, Cameron has their car hovering in the air upside down. Summer's black hair hangs in loose, damp tangles above—or is it below?—her head, just like Lucy's and Jaden's. Everyone looks as if they've been electrocuted, and if it weren't for their situation, Summer would probably laugh. Lucy and Summer share an "I'm scared to death I might pass out at any second" look, while Jaden and Rob grin like idiots, enjoying this more than they should be. Landon's eyes are huge, brown orbs—he's thunderstruck.

The car spins around until they're flipped back over, and Summer secretly hopes she didn't just soil her panties. Cameron shouts, "HALT!" And the car's back end pivots around so violently they're suddenly facing the opposite direction. Several cop cars fly by, and the ones physically on the road screech to a halt as they cause several cars to maneuver around them, many of them wrecking. Then Cameron yells, "FLEE ALL COPS!"

"She can do that?" asks Rob, chuckling.

"I've trained my car well," admits Gage with a grin.

"Brilliant!"

Lucy and Summer are still stuck in their "Oh My God" stare.

The car flies the opposite direction of the traffic on the ground and then drops onto the asphalt again. The lights of cars are all coming at them so quickly that Summer's in a constant state of flinching, just waiting for the collision that's surely to come. Horns blare left and right as Cameron commands the car into weaving in and out of traffic, several times taking the wheel and turning the car sideways in a skid before she speeds forward again. The car jumps up into the air, and they spin a one-eighty before they begin to go the direction they had originally been going moments before. The cops are thoroughly confused as they slide sideways in the air and on the road to try and catch them again. But then Cameron cuts the wheel and leaves the freeway completely, running into downtown Phantomship that was once Los Angeles. Huge buildings tower over them from every side, and Summer's awestruck by the city, regardless of the high-speed chase.

"Up ahead!" shouts Gage.

Cameron gives a tight nod and suddenly they turn right, still hovering in the air, and when they reach a T in the road the car doesn't slow or turn. Summer's chest heaves when the building up ahead only grows larger as they race toward it. A blood-curdling scream erupts from Lucy's mouth as Cameron crashes the car into the building. Glass rains down on the car like tinkling rain against the car.

"Holy shite!" exclaims Rob. He's still grinning like an idiot.

It's an office building, and people dive out of the way as the car barely fits between the floor and ceiling. They crash through several walls while desks and ceiling tiles smash into the car before they drive through more glass, exiting the building in the same style they entered, and spin wildly in circles in what appears to be a parking structure.

"Launch now!" shouts Gage.

They land on the ground and slowly drive through the parking structure—parts of the vehicle drag on the ground—until they're in the basement portion of it. They pull into a parking space, and the car shuts off, the seatbelts releasing them. Summer's tense muscles relax as she leans against Landon in relief, though she doesn't know for how long this sensation will last.
CHAPTER 44: DIVERSION

16 years old

Cameron and Gage start chuckling, and Jaden and Rob join in.

"Aren't they going to find us down here?" asks Landon nervously.

"We deployed a decoy," Gage says proudly.

"We figured this might happen, so we had a diversion set up here," explains Cameron, trying to withhold her giggles. "We sent a battered silver Outlander from the parking structure. It'll evade the cops until it doesn't run anymore."

Summer sucks in a deep breath before letting it out slowly.

"Are you okay?" asks Gage and Landon at the same time.

Dazed, she nods sluggishly and sits up.

"A new update," informs Cameron, changing the subject while her fingers tap on the glass before her. A man's somber voice fills the vehicle.

"The police are still in pursuit of the stolen Leaguer vehicle. It has come to our attention that two Leaguers from the camp in Phantomship were taken during the escape of the prisoners." Prisoners? That's what Gage had called Summer long before she was told otherwise in the law class. Still, it catches most of them off guard. "Cameron Steen and Gage Appleton are said to be hostages." A holographic image suddenly appears in the middle of everyone in the back of the Outlander, making Summer jump in surprise. The same image appears on the windshield. It's a picture of Cameron and Gage, studiously scowling while in their uniforms. "Avoid the roads right now. If you see this Silver Outlander"—a picture appears of the pursuit—"move far away. If you see these two on foot, do not approach them. Contact authorities immediately and remove yourself from the situation.

"Now back to our regular broadcast. . . ."

Cameron presses a button, and all goes silent in the car. "I'm famous," she jokes thoughtfully.

"Infamous," Gage corrects.

"Prisoners?" barks Landon crossly. "That's what I thought!" He begins to grumble incoherently. Summer's thoughts are on the same wavelength.

"What the bloody hell is the point of those idiotic classes if we're considered prisoners?" gripes Rob.

"Two reasons," says Gage. "First, to keep everyone from focusing on escape and the fact that they're actually being held against their will. Second, those who show promise and can possibly be brought up in our society will be accepted—especially younger Outlanders."

"So what?" shouts Rob irately. "The plan is to keep us locked up forever?"

Summer glances between the two, wondering the same thing.

Gage looks down, ashamed. "This is why we're against the government's plans. . . ."

Rob's face turns into a mask of heated rage. "Just spit it out!"

Startled, Gage's eyes snap to Rob's. "They want to kill those who are useless to our society! Okay? They want to kill the Outlanders. Only a tiny percentage will survive. At least that's how it is in the Canadian Federation. President Beaumont is only waiting for the bill to be passed to start executions!"

"Why didn't you tell us this from the beginning?" roars Rob with such outrage that spit flies from his mouth.

"I'm sorry! I knew if I told you too early things could have easily taken a wrong turn. You've escaped, haven't you? We helped, didn't we?" defends Gage while he points at Rob.

Summer gently places a palm on Gage's forearm and brings his arm back down. He turns to her, and his eyes are full of deep remorse. "I would have never let them kill you or your friends." His tone's sincere, and she believes him—after everything they just went through to get away from the authorities it's obvious which side they're on. The thing is . . . she can feel the tide of anger rising in her as well at the news. It's something that rarely happens, but now that she's found this new freedom, she's also found the freedom of thought. The last time she let her fury take her over was when she cooked hot peppers in the whole crew's dinner. But now it's boiling just barely under the surface.

"So what do we do now?" asks Jaden, pulling Gage's attention from Summer.

"Ethan—our tech genius—turned the cameras off in the parking structure as soon as we crashed through the building, so we're waiting for someone from the Greenhorn Project to bring us a vehicle," explains Gage.

"Greenhorn Project?" asks Lucy with raised brows.

"The way things were in your camp were heavenly compared to the other camps," says Gage gravely. "Outlanders at other camps have been starved, beaten, and killed. It's getting ugly, and many citizens are embarrassed by President Beaumont's blind eye."

"This has sparked the Greenhorn Project, a group of people who are against the mistreatment of Outlanders," adds Cameron. "We're secretly a part of this project and have their full support to rescue you specifically, Summer."

Me? she thinks with raised brows.

"Our ride's here," says Gage suddenly, leaving Summer to her wild thoughts.
CHAPTER 45: MONTGOMERY

16 years old

Their new ride sits abandoned on the first floor of the parking structure. It's black and sleek with a rounded rear and large, tinted windows. The backseat's not quite as large as the Outlander's so they'll have to squeeze inside. On the back of the car, in silver paint and fancy cursive, is the name Velocity Rapture. Summer has a bad feeling about this car, her stomach giving an uncomfortable squeeze—she's still a little woozy over the last ride.

Today's the first time that Summer's ever seen the outside world in its true form. There's a revolution under foot—the Federation's taken a turn many of the Canadians disagree with, and it's obvious on the streets. The Greenhorn Project's symbol seems to pop up everywhere: a white dove taking flight from an open cage. Cameron explains that it represents freedom and peace. It's on shirts, in holograms, on flashing screens, and even drawn on the back of speeding cars.

Farther out of the city, Summer can finally see the true magnificence of this phantom universe she's stumbled into. Lights hang in the air to display where lanes are for flying cars, while far above them there are several hovercrafts that are just oval-shaped dots in the sky. She can see where parts of the old city are intermingled with the new, shiner parts. Technology's advanced much faster than predicted, but that's because it was the Federation's priority to be the most advanced nation on the planet, explains Gage as Summer stares out the windows and marvels at the city along with her friends. The view completely makes her anger melt away to be replaced with wonder.

They slow when Phantomship's out of view and only low-rise buildings surround them. This is the first time she really gets a good look at the people of the future. Some look normal while others have strange-colored hair and abnormal clothes and accessories that she's never even dreamed of before, let alone seen. Yellow hair, short hoop-like skirts, wild tattoos, eerie eye colors, and many more things that are bizarre. Parking outside a building with huge windows and digital images moving across the glass, Cameron taps the windshield again, and images immediately cover all the windows in the hovercar.

"This is Emma's mother's store," explains Cameron in the dark, turning a light on. Summer, yet again, can't find the source. "She owns one of the last stores in the whole Canadian Federation that still has physical books. She's left me instructions on how to enter the store, and the back has supplies for us to use."

"Are the cameras disabled?" asks Gage.

"Mrs. Waters put the cameras on a loop starting at dark. Until then, we need to stay in here," says Cameron. "We'll stay in the store tonight, and tomorrow we'll meet up with the other Leaguers in the Midwest Providence. What we need to discuss is where we plan to go from there."

"Actually," interrupts Gage, "I was thinking of New York."

"What?" squeaks Cameron. "You can't be serious?" Gage and Cameron exchange looks, as if speaking with their glances. "You are serious! And you think that they're just going to let us pass? Just like that? No questions asked?!"

Everyone watches them carefully, absorbing the information—especially Summer who exchanges a look with Landon. He shrugs, and they both look at Gage.

"Of course there will be questions asked! But don't you see . . . the one person that everyone wants the most is in our possession!" argues Gage, his voice rising.

"What? You can't just treat her like a possession," argues Landon, his voice low and even.

"That's not what—"

"You want to use Summer to get into New York? That's what you're saying, right?" accuses Landon. "Don't you think they'll want to imprison her just like the Federation? The accusations of the Secret Clock Society will put her on everyone's hit list."

Gage's mouth opens wordlessly until he gains his composure back. "That's not what I mean—"

"Isn't it?"

"No way will you use her as bait," jumps in Rob, suddenly coming to Summer's defense.

"Yeah," agrees Jaden, Lucy, and Avery in unison.

"Summer?" asks Jaden, and all eyes turn to Summer.

Summer's eyes go wide at the sudden attention—why did this have to come down to her? She didn't know anything about the Society, about New York, about herself even. For reasons she doesn't understand, she's become the most desired person in the whole world. Every eye and ear will be on the lookout for her—some will want to experiment on her, some will want to kill her . . . and who knows what else people have up their sleeves. She's just a failed experiment, but others might want to try and use her so they can skip through time. All is silent in the car, all intense gazes on her. She shrinks back as if their stares are a physical impact, choking her.

"Your Astropad," says Landon encouragingly.

Summer reaches into her back pocket for the device; she forgot she had it. She pulls it free and holds it in the palm of her hand, gently pulling the pen-like device from it. Her hand hovers over the Astropad and shakes. Then she writes, "How will New York help us?" She holds it up, and Landon reads it aloud for everyone.

Cameron smiles at her, and something gleams in her chocolate brown eyes. "I have an idea."

"Cameron," says Gage warningly.

"Trust me!" Cameron turns around in her seat and begins to fiddle with the glass screen before her. Her fingers swipe, touch, and move so quickly around it that Summer can't keep up with what Cameron's doing. Suddenly, a voice echoes through the car. It's high-pitched and testy, as if speaking at all makes the woman angry. Cameron twists around and puts her finger to her lips. "Yes, this is Cameron Steen. I'd like to speak with the President."

There's a snort before the woman says, "I'm sorry, but he's very busy, as you can imagine." Her tone's clearly sarcastic. "May I leave a message?" She chuckles rudely.

"No, you may put me through to the President, if you don't mind. Perhaps you haven't been checking the news, but I have Summer Waverly in my custody."

The girl's chortling is cut off immediately as she chokes. "What?"

"Please patch me through to the President. I have a feeling he'll be very interested in what I have, don't you think?" Cameron's voice turns bitingly cold. "Or perhaps you want to explain to him why you took a message instead of directing the call to him immediately?"

"I—ah, of course," the girl chokes out.

Some wild music Summer's never heard before begins to play, and Rob and Jaden exchange a devious look. Gage, on the other hand, doesn't seem pleased. "What are you doing?" he says between gritted teeth.

Cameron only smiles more brightly.

"Please hold for the President," says a pleasant voice, and the music plays again.

"This is President Montgomery," says a deep voice after a minute.

"President Montgomery, thank you for taking my call," says Cameron pleasantly. "This is Cameron Steen."

"So I've been told," says President Montgomery gravely.

"I know that you're currently trying to track my location so I'm going to make this quick," says Cameron, as if talking to a President of any country isn't abnormal to her. "Lieutenant Appleton and myself were not taken—actually, we helped Summer Waverly escape. We were hoping that you'd be open to letting us cross your boarder and giving us refuge in New York."

"And why would I allow this?"

"It's either you help us, or President Beaumont will soon find us and have control over the most wanted person on this planet." Cameron smiles smugly at the air, as if President Montgomery can see her. "Do you really want the Federation to have such control?"

There's a long pause on the other end.

"I'll be in contact in an hour. I hope by then you'll have made a decision." Cameron taps the screen, and the call's cut off.

Gage is wide-eyed, and his mouth's hanging slightly agape. "You just hung up on the President of New York!"

"It was either that or he would have had time to find our location. We might have disconnected all GPSs that we have around us, but we don't know what kind of technologies the New Yorkers have," says Cameron with a shrug.
CHAPTER 46: BREAK

16 years old

To Summer's relief, the evening's a quiet affair with no excitement whatsoever. She lay between Lucy and Jaden on the floor in the back of the bookstore (the best smelling place she's ever been). They have no problems zonking out, but Summer stays awake for the majority of the night. Even though her body's sore and exhausted, her mind reels with all the events of the day. She wonders if this has all just been a really strange dream. The only good news is that the President of New York has offered them safe passage as long as they're able to reach the border. Gage seems positive about it, but after the police chase that left her head and shoulders feeling discombobulated, she's not sure what's next.

The following day is bright and sunny, and every once in a while a hovercraft darts across the sky. This time Gage takes the driver's seat while Cameron sits up front with him. Together they're a force of nature as they start the vehicle and speed down the road.

"Here's the plan," says Cameron over her shoulder. "We're going to travel to Illinois today, and tomorrow we'll finish our trip to New York. I know it's going to be a long journey with all of us in this car, but let's try to be respectful of each other, all right?"

"Yes Mum," says Rob with an eye roll.

Everyone else mumbles in agreement while Summer nods. But, funnily enough, after only twenty minutes Rob and Jaden get into a heated discussion over the beauty of music played on a cello compared to a guitar. Avery studiously ignores everyone as he shines his swimmers medal for the second time in five minutes, while Lucy and Landon move closer together and talk so quietly that Summer can't even hear them. They're all here for her, but she still feels like the outsider—which isn't so unusual. Even Gage sitting up front and talking car-speak to Cameron has his own little world sans Summer. Part of her isolation, she knows, is her own fault because she'd schooled herself into silence. Everything was different when it was just Landon and Summer, but now he has others to talk to.

Hours pass as Summer does what she does best: observes. She learns many things about the people around her—inconsequential, but information nonetheless. And you can never have too much of that. For example, Jaden wears a leather necklace with brown beads for each of her family members. She's had it since she was taken, but now it's too small and is the size of a choker on her; she never takes it off. Lucy also carries a little memento: the book The Black Stallion by Walter Farley. It just happened to be in her backpack (which she was wearing when the Exodus happened). She's a little embarrassed by it because it's a book geared towards younger children (and therefore is teased mercilessly by Avery). But it connects her to Kylie and her family. Out of everything Lucy says the only information that really sticks out is the fact that Lucy was walking around with her backpack at midnight when the Exodus happened.

There are also the weird things she really doesn't want to know about people, but could one day come in handy. Like the fact that Avery's double-jointed, and Rob can hold his breath for almost two whole minutes without passing out. Avery finds this very impressive. She even learns that besides being an almost-Doctor, Cameron has gone out of her way to learn about all things hover, including cars and crafts alike. Gage, on the other hand, is the only one who talks freely amongst everyone without dropping a single hint about himself. It's probably just his Leaguer training, because he's offered up quite a bit of information about himself when it's just the two of them.

"I've got to pee," says Lucy as she crosses her legs uncomfortably.

"Didn't you go to the toilet before we left?" asks Rob with a scowl.

"Of course I did, but I've got a small bladder." Lucy holds up her index finger and thumb barely an inch apart.

"We'll stop, but it's got to be on the outskirts of town; you can't use an actual restroom," says Cameron as she pulls up a map on the windshield. It glows bright blue and green with detailed drawings of where all buildings and cameras are.

"Does that thing predict your future too?" jokes Rob with a laugh.

"Depends," Cameron answers seriously.

Summer runs a hand through her long locks as she attempts to read the map. Cameron zooms into a desolate spot where Lucy can have some privacy while squatting behind a bush. The detail on the map is outstanding—she can almost zoom in so close grains of sand would be visible with great clarity.

They pull to the side of the road, and the two back doors slide open. "If you have to piss, do it now," says Cameron. "We won't be stopping again."

Everyone exits besides Summer. She barely peeks out one of the doors and squints at the intensity of the sun on her face. She's blonde again, this morning's shower washing the black from her hair. This only makes her more nervous and a much bigger target. In the distance she can see a fenced-in area with several grounded hovercrafts. There's one other building on the opposite side of the road that appears to be old and abandoned.

Several of them take care of business while Gage walks around the car and leans against the open door, his blonde hair shifting in the light breeze, and his green eyes alert. His posture is the opposite, all lean lines in his dark jeans and white shirt, comfortably slouching. Someone else might think he's just hanging out, when in fact he's just as aware of everything going on around him as she is.

"It's okay if you need to go," he offers with a wave of his hand.

Summer shakes her head and shifts back into the shadows. Something's wrong. She can't see it, but she can sense it. Her heart clamps down, and a chill runs the length of her veins as if they've turned to ice. Gage looks between her and the world outside with pinched eyebrows, reading the stress on her face. Jaden hops on Rob's back as they playfully horse around, laughing loudly. Lucy's pulling at Avery's large ears, both of them laughing and oblivious. But Summer's not—they're being watched. Landon's turned away, finishing his business, though she can see his back go rigid as if he can feel the tension thicken in the air.

"Cameron?" whispers Gage harshly. "We need to go. Now!" Cameron examines his face and reads the intelligence there.

Summer backs a little farther into the car, the wind from the two open doors causing her hair to tangle and fly into her face. The laughter of her friends suddenly sounds sinister, and her breathing shallows. The wind abruptly stops, and her hair falls limply on her shoulders. She waits for it—

A hand clamps down over her mouth from behind while an arm encircles her waist, yanking her backward. She manages a kick that barely caresses the side of Gage's jeans. Summer's pulled from the car as Gage whips around, bending down to see the dust from the sand rise into a cloud where her feet drag. He shouts her name as the sound of feet pounding around the car fill the dusty air. Her name echoes through it all eerily. Memories flash in her head of Jarvis's flesh touching hers, how no amount of soap in the entire world would wash the feel of his touch away. Her stomach rolls, her heart hammers like a piston, and her breath stings with each intake. Never again.

Summer fights against her kidnapper, kicking, thrusting her arms to try and find a clean shot to elbow him in the face or side. Finding no openings, she bites down into the man's fleshy palm over her mouth as her flight or fight response kicks in. She wants to do both. The man howls in pain and releases her face—not that she'll scream out anyway. She spits out blood and bends over to thrust her weight backward, her elbow landing directly into the man's nose with a crunch. There's a grunt and curse from the man, but now there are several people surrounding her, and her friends are being held back. There are too many of them, their all-red uniforms—no, hood cloaks—are so obviously not the same as the Leaguer's normal attire.

Hands from all directions reach out to grab her as they hold her still, though her muscles, no matter how worn and tired, refuse to give up, wildly jerking and fighting the forceful hands. Gage's frantically shouting her name, no longer a battle cry, but a whimper of remorse. A sob. Angry tears roll down her face as she continues to fight. A needle is jammed viciously into her arm, and she cries out in pain. Whatever drug they've injected her with burns as they empty the syringe into her muscle. Nothing happens at first, but slowly she can feel her body relaxing like a heavy blanket has been placed over her. No matter how much her brain tells her to keep fighting her limbs can't battle the heaviness. She falls limply onto the ground at her captor's feet. The last thing she hears is the intense vibrations of a hovercraft overhead and Gage's voice shouting, arguing, and screaming her name. He begs her to fight. Sand lifts into the air and each grain becomes their own tiny needle as the hovercraft's movement causes a sandstorm.

Sand. Screaming. All of it dissolves as Summer finally goes completely limp on the ground.
CHAPTER 47: MINDY

16 years old

Dreams are an odd thing, that's for sure. Summer swears that she's been taken by a hoard of people in red cloaks, but it's clearly a dream because her nose tells her otherwise. The musky smell of books greets her like a friend as she opens her eyes. Overly bright lights make her squint and automatically reach up to shade herself. Except . . . she's been tied down—she knows this immediately from other "encounters" in her life. Ones she prefers to forget forever. Now she's not so sure it was all a dream after all. Maybe she really has been taken. Her eyes adjust and continue to dart around as she tries to determine her whereabouts; she quickly figures out where the book smell's coming from. There's a shelf close to her full of books, though she's too far away to read them.

A soft, tentative voice breaks her frantic eye and neck movements (since that seems to be the only part of her she's able to move). "Hello Summer." The woman has a light British accent. "Please don't panic."

Too late, Summer thinks wryly.

The face of a woman hovers over her, and Summer freezes. Not just her movements, but her heart, her breath . . . everything. Light, brown hair (almost blonde it's so light) frames the face of a woman who looks to be in her late thirties. Her blue eyes sparkle with unspoken knowledge, but these things are all superficial compared to what makes Summer freeze. It's the face of someone she knows—someone she thinks about every day—someone she knew before her abduction all those years ago. It's the only face that could possibly soothe her in a moment like this. It's her mother . . . her mum. She tries to reach up to touch the face of this woman, but her wrists meet the resistance of her already forgotten restraints.

It's not possible. Is it? After all these years, could she possibly stumble upon her mother in such strange and odd (and absolutely terrifying) circumstances? Words bubble to her lips but, even now, they fail to escape. Maybe she's just not capable of speech anymore. Maybe it's just been so long now that it's impossible.

"Summer," whispers Mindy quietly. There's a long pause as they stare at each other and absorb each other's presence. Then she adds, "I'm sorry." Mindy's eyes pool with tears that cascade down her smooth cheeks. She brushes Summer's hair away from her face and sticks a needle in Summer's arm. It stings, but she's still in shock from seeing her mother.

The world falls away like rocks tumbling down a mountainside. As the darkness consumes and devours her senses, there's one thing that continues to work and function: her mind. There's one memory that surfaces like an intense tide, pulling her into the realm of something sinister. It's one of those moments in time that really has no relevance until you relive the memory and realize just how important it truly is. And how spine-chilling.

As a small child, Summer Waverly saw doctors often. She was so used to it that it became a routine thing—nothing out of the ordinary. On one of those occasions, Summer overhears something that meant nothing to her then, but now makes her heart flutter uncontrollably.

"Everything's looking well. She's ahead of schedule—far ahead of Julian," says one of the male doctors as he pulls the stethoscope from his ears and absentmindedly hands Summer a red lollipop. "It's been ten years—every step the Hourglass Project makes seems to only throw us back several more. If she's ahead and he's behind . . . perhaps if we have to terminate we can find a middle ground between the data from both our subjects?" says the male doctor, obviously frustrated.

"Yes. This worries me," says another female doctor while sticking a pencil behind her ear and clutching her clipboard with white knuckles. "Do you think we've miscalculated . . ." she trails off and gives a sidelong glance at Summer who's only three and happily sucking on her red lollipop. She looks oblivious, but she's ever the studious observer, constantly soaking up everything around her.

"Perhaps we should take this conversation somewhere else?" suggests the male doctor. "We shouldn't talk about Jul—our other subject in front of—"

They exchange a worried glance before moving out of Summer's hearing range. There's a curtain pulled between her and another silent patient silhouetted on a bed, sitting upright. The patient's small, probably close to my age, she guesses. In the corner of the large, white room, her mother whispers lowly to the doctors and constantly glances between Summer and the mysterious patient on the other side of the curtain with an anxious expression. Summer's understanding of the situation wasn't as well developed, but now that she's older, she appreciates that her observant nature has always been a part of her.

Maybe she isn't the only one in this predicament. Perhaps this other "subject," Julian, is in her shoes too. Who is he? Is he like her? Was he the silent patient on the other side of that curtain? And why, of all people, is her mum working with the Secret Clock Society to capture her when her mum once ran from them? There are too many questions floating around in Summer's mind. Soon her memories fade away like wisps of smoke in the air, and all she has left is the blackness. And time. Too much time.

Alone.

Again.
CHAPTER 48: ZHAR

16 years old

The Exodus brought on many issues for the Secret Clock Society due high number of members disappearing, though enough members were unaffected so that they were able to grow in numbers and size. This made Doctor Zhar's shift into the future easy. But that's where it ends. She's been working for the Society for thirty years. She was there when the Subject—Summer—was created, and when the decision was made to terminate the Subject. Hell, Doctor Zhar raised her hand during the meeting when they voted yes for termination. It's not that she has anything against the girl, it's just that Summer's a subject—not a person. She was given a name for identity's sake, not so one of the Society's members could get the "warm and fuzzies" for her. You can't have "those types" of feelings towards a subject. Summer was made, not born. There's no genetic makeup, no blood that would match the types found in humans.

The thing is? Doctor Zhar can't help but begin to let "those types" of feelings leak into her system. Except she's on the other end of the spectrum. Ultimately, Summer's turned out to be the number one problem causer for the Hourglass Project (Doctor Zhar's project—her baby). The real dilemma, though, is that Summer can't be controlled. She's a wild card—but that's the price you pay for something as scientifically advanced as a time machine.

With thirty years of research under Doctor Zhar's belt, she still hasn't been able to find a way to duplicate the time traveling process without a living organism involved (much to her dismay). She's tried lower beings such as rats, but they're unable to endure the magnitude of the shift with time travel and explode, no matter the variations. Other mammals, even the biggest and strongest, randomly choose when to go through time. They're more unpredictable than a human who can rationalize and reason. The downside? A human has to be trained.

Summer's never been trained because she was taken from the Society. Unknowingly, the pirates, who refused to give her over, carried a literal time bomb on their ship for twelve years. Doctor Zhar specifically designed Summer so her abilities would be like a switch inside her that flips to "on" when she reaches the age of maturity: sixteen. Only then could she access her time traveling abilities.

It was during one of Summer's many medical examinations as a child when a complication was discovered. The "No Genetic Makeup Subject" has a glitch: a genetic defect that reaches out like a web of invisible strings and latches onto all those with a certain antigen in their blood. It's as if Summer's body developed an overwhelming need to connect to other organisms and clamped onto the strongest species. Her body was doing what it had to do to survive—and at her young age, she quickly bonded with her supposed mother: Mindy Waverly. Except the bond's deeper than any "warm and fuzzy" feeling. It's the first connector of millions that ultimately has the power to pull those connected into the future or past with Summer. Whether the Outlanders know it or not, they all share an unmistakable bond with none other than Summer. To stop the time travel and cut the ties that bind, the subject must be terminated.

Since the Society was unable to terminate the experiment before Summer turned sixteen, the miscalculations—as the Society surmised—caused her to over-power and send, not only herself, but those with particular blood types into the ether. The only reason the Society predicted she'd go into the future is because there's nothing in written history about the sudden appearance of two hundred million people. The Society knew if the Subject wasn't killed by her sixteenth birthday, the effects would be catastrophic. And they were. The Exodus alone caused the world to go into a series of devastating wars, and now the addition of two hundred million people in the future is causing shortages of food. President Beaumont's right to put the Outlanders in camps and limit their food.

Now Doctor Zhar has the cause, the problem, the issue—Summer—in her grasp. She uses a hand scanner to open the door to the lab where Summer's already restrained and waiting. Hopefully she can convince this child to join their side—compared to Julian, surely this girl will be a dream. She was a slave for twelve years; certainly a nice place to live with people serving her will be enough incentive. Surely. Summer's their control, but the brain and personality are the variables that can be manipulated by outside sources—hopefully by the Society. Doctor Zhar will have to find a way to work around their lack of social skills to help Summer form thoughts without her realizing the manipulation, or she'll have to force it upon Summer. Either way is dangerous and should be handled by a professional—possibly a psychiatrist. But Doctor Zhar doesn't have that luxury right now. She's it. But she does have one thing on her side: Mindy's life.
CHAPTER 49: COOPERATION

16 years old

Summer's roused from a fog-like sleep with a woman's face hovering over hers. She's seen her before, but can't place the face. Summer inventories the grey streaks in the woman's black, silky hair, and the dark color of her skin that reminds her of someone from India or near the Middle East. Her accent, however, is clearly British.

"Summer, so nice of you to join us," she says. "I'm Doctor Zhar."

Summer tries to move but, just like before, she's tied down. Constricted. It makes her heart pound and her breath come in quick rasps.

"I want to talk to you before I release the restraints. Get things straight between us," says Doctor Zhar. "You see, I'm hoping that you won't cause us any trouble, and until I am confident that you'll be a good little girl, you'll remain just like this. Act like an animal and you'll be caged like one."

Summer already doesn't like this woman one bit. All she can think about is her mother, her new friends, and the hope she was finally feeling. Now it's all been zipped away like a popped balloon, spluttering and deflating.

"As I'm sure you've already been told, you're the cause for the Exodus. We won't hold that against you here; not in this building. Not like those on the outside world that want to kill you for the wars you've caused."

Wars I caused? thinks Summer bitingly. I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for this place!

"Ah, I can see you're upset with us," say Doctor Zhar with faux sympathy. "That's completely understandable. I apologize for everything that's happened. It was good that we caught you in time."

Now Summer raises her eyebrows, not comprehending.

"Yes, after that shift in time your internal clock work went a little haywire," says Doctor Zhar. "No worries, we've tuned you up, and everything's fine now." She says it like Summer's a car. Vroom, vroom. "Now here comes the part where I ask for your cooperation. We want to train you to use your time traveling abilities. We'll provide room and board, all your food, health care, and needs. All we ask in return is for you to go on . . . missions. You see, you could provide us with the intelligence we need to conquer the Canadian Federation once and for all."

Doctor Zhar holds up a finger as if she's stopping Summer from speaking—which is comical from Summer's point of view.

"I know what you're thinking. If we've fixed you then why should you help us? Well, there are a few reasons. Besides the necessities, we can provide you with riches beyond your wildest dreams."

Summer almost snorts but is too scared to make a sound in case this woman has a whip.

"Other than that? We've made sure that there won't be spontaneous shifts in time, but we have much work to do if you want to make it so only you go through time instead of all those with a specific blood type. That was the downside to it all—why we were going to terminate the project in the first place. After sixteen years, we've yet to create another subject with such excellent results as yours. Of course, you might accidently trigger another shift in time without proper training. Therefore, if you won't help us, your control on time is tenuous at best, and no matter where you go, future or past, you'll still have two hundred million angry people searching for the girl who keeps causing them to shift through time." Doctor Zhar waits for a response, but of course doesn't receive one. She shakes her head as if she just realized what she did.

"I'll give you time to think about this offer. I'd hate to have to force your hand on the matter." The threat is clear. "We can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard. Either way, you're stuck in this lab. I'm hoping that you'll make my job easier," says Doctor Zhar as she flicks a piece of lint off her white lab coat. She disappears from sight for a second, though Summer can hear her rummaging around for something. When she returns, she's filling a needle with a substance Summer's sure will make her go back to sleep. "I'm going to ask you now. Will you join us? Will you cooperate?"

Summer shakes her head defiantly and hopes any abuse to her body will be done while she's drugged. "All right. When you wake again I'll be back to ask you the same question. Next time the needle won't be as peaceful as this one." Doctor Zhar jabs the needle painfully into Summer's hip. The medication burns as it's forced into her body. "If you still say no? It'll be your mother on this table—and a needle will be the least of your worries."

Darkness eats at the edges of Summer's vision as she sucks in an unreleased sob. Then the ever-expanding darkness bleeds like her whipped skin after a beating. Aching, tearing, and exhausting her last grips on reality until the drug devours her whole. Swallowing her like a great beast.
CHAPTER 50: RESCUE

16 years old

Air sucking in or blowing out with incredible force wakes Summer from her unpeaceful rest. A rush of whispered voices overwhelms her senses as her eyes fly open to find dim lighting, unlike the bright fluorescents of what she had woken to earlier. Another face looms over her as the vacuum-like noise dies away. It's Landon, his dark eyes full of relief. Summer can't help but feel her heart expand when she sees him. He's come to rescue her, she hopes.

"She's awake," says Landon.

Another face she knows very well comes into view, and Gage's smile is contagious. His eyes seem to reach out and caress her skin; she automatically reaches for him, but she's still constricted. Her smile fades as she jerks against her constraints, shaking the bed she's laying on, panic taking her stomach and squeezing it with an iron fist.

"Calm down," pleads Gage softly. "We're working on getting you out of here."

He disappears, and now she can't see anyone, only hears the whisper of voices again. Is this just another dream? Is she swimming in a pool of hope to finally wake to a world of loss and desperation? Confusion's set in so deeply she's quite certain she might be going crazy. Certifiably.

Summer takes a deep breath and exhales a shaky one. Her mind's drowning in emotions, thoughts, and the plight of her current predicament, as if she's found the undertow and is sucked into the depths, unable to swim ashore. Her legs kick and kick, her arms flailing uselessly, but she goes nowhere but down, down into the darkness. How did her life become so screwed up? Then she hears that voice, with the light British accent and soft cadence of authority: her mum. She closes her eyes. Her breaths become pants, her heart marches to the beat of a feral drummer, and her mind's consumed with illogical thoughts in a deluge of memories. She fights her constraints again, more forcefully this time, unable to hold still any longer, only to find they're gone. In a wild motion, she flies forward and almost falls to the ground. Gage is there to catch her, though, like a knight in shining armor. Her heart gives a tug for him as she grips him with a neediness she's never quite felt before.

Neediness?

She quickly unclenches her fists from his T-shirt and stumbles back and into Landon who catches her. On top of the confusion of where she is, she's also perplexed by this need. Summer doesn't need anyone. It's completely irrational. It's not the time to think about this, though—the air's charged with an urgency.

"Flower, everything's okay," whispers Gage with his hands up in surrender. "Let's get you out of here, and then I'll explain everything, okay?" He raises his eyebrows in question, and she nods.

"They're coming," rasps Mindy in horror. "We've got to go now."

Bewilderment settles in as if an anchor's landed on Summer's head.

"Cameron's disabled the guards at the South Wing," says Gage urgently to Mindy. "But she says more are on the way, and we must be quick."

Landon and Gage both nod as Mindy glances over her shoulder. "Ready, Summer?" Summer nods as the pieces come together. Her mum's helping them, not hindering them. That must be what she meant when she said sorry before Summer was stuck with the needle.

Gage flees the room first with Mindy at his heels. Landon urges Summer forward and takes up the rear. The hallway glows brightly with no source of light that she can see. Footsteps pound down an adjoining hallway as Gage slams his back against the wall where the hallways intersect. He gestures for the rest of them to follow his lead, and they press their backs against the wall. The footsteps grow louder with their commanding voices accompanying each thud against the hard floor. Gage pulls something from his pocket and throws it around the corner before Summer's able to see what it is.

"RETREAT!" a voice shouts frantically as screams erupt from the people speeding toward them, their steps halting before picking up double-time as they run the other direction. "It's a Radial!"

Summer has no idea what a Radial is, but the voices sound frightened.

The noise of something powering up grows louder and louder until it's suddenly cutoff, the silence eerie. The men's footfalls are still heavy as they back down the hall. Then the strangest sound—like a cat in heat magnified—explodes from down the hallway. All the air feels as if it's been sucked away, deadening all noises, before it's thrown back ten-fold in a dizzying blast of electrical blue. It flies down the hall and knocks everyone sideways, even them. Gage quickly rises to his feet and steps into the adjoining hallway and pulls out the gun-like device he'd used to incapacitate Paige on the hovercraft—Summer makes a note to ask what its name is. A few strange-sounding shots ring out as Landon and Mindy help bring Summer to her feet.

"It's clear, let's go," says Gage with a wave of his hand.

They follow him down the long hallway that reminds Summer of the hospital's stark whiteness, again unaware of the light source. She can't seem to stop herself from watching Gage from behind, seeing his muscular shoulders in his navy blue T-shirt flex as he races across the tiled floor with ease. His boots are large and heavy, but hardly make a sound in his stealth. She, on the other hand, isn't as graceful in her boots. She wonders if her abductors left them on when they tied her up, or if her mum put them on her in preparation of their escape.

"Which direction?" asks Gage over his shoulder to Mindy.

"It doesn't matter," she replies. "Either way this hallway meets at the South Wing's exit."

"I'll go left and cut off anyone from that side. The rest of you take the right. Landon, you got this?" Gage peers over his shoulder as they slow at the T in the corridor. Landon gives him a tight nod and pulls from his pocket a device similar to Gage's.

"Good. Cameron's waiting at the exit with the hovercraft. I'll meet you there," he says quickly as they split.

Summer wants to say something, feeling oddly like this might be the last time she sees Gage. There's just a gut feeling in her that he shouldn't go that way, but she doesn't know how to voice it. She glances over her shoulder to see his back as he moves with all the gracefulness of a hunting lion. Then he turns a corner, and he's out of sight. Her heart gives a horrible jolt as they also turn a corner and begin racing up the ridiculously long hallway. The doors on either side are sealed, and everything's disturbingly quiet besides their pounding footsteps. Landon's ahead while Summer trails behind, quickly growing out of breath. She may have recovered a lot of her strength in the hospital, but she still lacks the endurance of a runner.

She can't keep up with them and swiftly falls behind as she slows to a walk. She braces herself against a wall with the palm of her hand, her other arm wrapping around her stomach as the muscles tighten and cramp painfully. Her chest heaves, and when she looks up, she notices that Landon and Mindy don't notice she's fallen behind. She needs to call out to them, but can't find her voice. Panic's overwhelming her, overshadowing and dominating all that's left of her. She takes several steps forward, gripping the wall for support when she comes across an open door. She peers inside, and her breath catches in her throat at what she sees. Then it's as if everything slows down and seconds have turned to minutes. Maybe even hours.

The room's huge, but across from her is another open door leading to the corridor that Gage is running down. On Gage's side, there's a long window so people in the hall parallel the room can look inside, which means that Summer can see out as he incapacitates someone. But he's oblivious to the man that crouches below the window, a weapon in hand—except this weapon is more primal. More deadly. It looks like . . . No. It couldn't be! Summer grips the doorframe as her eyes focus on the axe this man's readying to use on Gage as soon as he passes the doorway. The man doesn't notice Summer, luckily, but if she doesn't do something immediately, Gage might lose his life in the most brutal way. And if she doesn't warn him, she won't be the witness, she'll be the accomplice. It's unfortunate that Summer knows exactly what an axe can to do to someone. She saw it once. In real life. She never wants to see it again—she wouldn't even wish that death on her worst enemy.

Landon and Mindy round the corner, still oblivious to the fact she's stopped. Her heart thumps hard in her chest. Harder than she's ever felt it before, like it's banging against her rib cage, preparing to break free and impale itself on a rib bone when the axe lands on Gage. Because that's exactly how it'll feel.

No. This can't happen. She can warn him—stop it from happening! She can call out. Use her voice—but would this man turn on her and use that axe to kill her for her insubordination? It only takes her less than a second to realize she'd sacrifice herself to save him. He's saved her so many times—doesn't he deserve better of her? Doesn't he deserve to have the favor returned even if it means her life's relinquished? Everyone's put themselves on the line for her, and all she's caused is more pain, grief, and trouble. She's not even real, anyway. Just an experiment—a subject in the Society's game.

Another second passes, and tears flood her face, down to her shirt, soaking through to her skin. Save his life, she demands of herself. Quit being a coward.

Gage takes another step forward in his haste, and the man raises the axe in preparation.
CHAPTER 51: UNIMAGINABLE

16 years old

Stop! It's there. On the tip of her tongue.

Just say it. Go on. SAY IT!

Her mouth forms the word silently before she tries to add sound to it. A croaky noise comes from her lips.

Coward! she screeches at herself. You stupid coward.

"S—t—op," she barely whispers. Surprised tears roll down her cheeks as another second passes, time so incredibly slow it's like she's controlling it, giving herself the time needed to say the words. Perhaps she is.

"Stop," she whispers again, her shaky hand covering her mouth with such fright and excitement her eyes have grown wide enough to pop out of her head.

Then it's like the elastic band around time snaps, and everything goes back to its normal speed. Two more steps and Gage is a goner unless she yells out. She must scream it. He has to hear it.

Her stomach is so sick, her blood so thick and hard in her veins at the fact that she's about to do something unimaginable. Footsteps slam into the ground to her right as Landon rounds the corner, his eyes wide, yet relieved, that she's okay. She barely gives him a glance as she turns back to the open door and screams at the top of her lungs.

"STOOOOOOOOOOP!" It's loud, clear, and very . . . British. Like her mum, though how she can distinguish an accent through her battle cry is a mystery.

Everyone freezes around her—the man with the axe, Gage, and most especially Landon. It's not that time has stopped; it's that she's surprised everyone into a frozen stupor.

Summer points at the man hidden behind the equipment in the room. "Axe!" It comes out on an exhale and is partially just her breath. It's all she can say, so astonished she got out more than one word. Her eyes are still wide, blue oceans of strain. She's shaking with sobs. This is it, she thinks. Everything will go downhill from here.

"You spoke," says Landon with such shock he's practically speechless himself. He doesn't even comment on the reason why, just the fact that she did.

At the same time, Gage ducks quickly and shoots his gun/device thingy at the guy with the axe who suddenly goes limp. The axe bonks him on the head, and the blade embeds itself into his calf. Justice. Or did she just condemn herself? Summer quickly covers her mouth in fear and looks between Gage and Landon as if they might punish her, though she's more worried about Axe Guy, even with his mouth open in a silent scream—just the sight pierces the air. Gage's hypnotic green eyes meet hers with astonishment and pride.

Pride? That's not right. That's the opposite of right. She shakes her head, blinks her eyes, and rubs them just to make sure she comprehended his facial expression correctly. Yup. It's definitely pride.

Landon hastily wraps an arm around her shoulders and rushes her down the hallway where Mindy and Cameron meet them outside, the rumbling hovercraft causing a roaring wind. Summer's hair flies into the air as she's escorted onto the hovercraft in a daze. Rob and Avery sit on either side of Jaden who looks thoroughly pissed, much to Summer's confusion. The boys, on the other hand, are quite happy to see her and jump up to hug her tightly. Lucy, seemingly out of nowhere, rushes Summer and practically tackles her like a linebacker before they can get to her.

"You're alive!" she cries joyously. "I thought you were dead. I thought—I thought—I—" Her words are cut off by sobs of joy.

"She's shaking," says Rob accusingly over the roar of the hovercraft.

Landon's still speechless, though he snaps out of it and holds Lucy to him in an embrace of contentment when she pulls free of Summer.

"I meant that Summer's shaking, not Lucy," says Rob with a shake of his head as he cautiously approaches her. Ever so carefully, he hugs her and lets her cry—happy tears? Sad tears? She's truly not sure which—on his grey T-shirt for a few seconds before he steps away awkwardly.

Mindy stands uneasily next to Summer, unsure of what to do, her hands held out uselessly. Summer's still in a state of shock, unable to hug back or move unless someone leads her to do it. Gage and Cameron board, and the doors slide shut, turning the loud, hectic atmosphere into a silent vastness. Cameron rushes to the front of the hovercraft and leaves the doors of the cockpit open as she slides into the pilot's seat and taps, commands, and pulls on levers as the hovercraft leaves the ground. Avery joins her and Cameron explains what she's doing like it's a class while Rob takes his seat next to Jaden who still looks pissed.

Gage approaches Summer as if she's a caged zoo animal who's been set free on her captors. "You . . . spoke." His voice is soft and low.

"What?" Several voices ring out in disbelief.

Summer shakes her head as if she can deny it, her body rigid and immobile as she stares forward like a soldier in a lineup.

"You did. You shouted." Gage's voice isn't accusing, it's awestruck—reverent even. "For me." He's still wary and doesn't come too close, afraid she'll back away. The short distance feels like a million miles of open space to Summer.

What'll he do? If I speak? What happens now? How do I respond?

"Yes," whispers Summer, her voice hoarse and weak. Her sapphire eyes snap to his, her body still frozen in place as her chest heaves in fright, tears coating her face and dampening her shirt.

"Oh my God," says Lucy in admiration.

Admiration? Awe? What's wrong with these people? thinks Summer. Their reactions are the complete opposite of what she's known her whole life. These are the kind of Oooohs and Aaaahs she receives from Captain Travis's guests when he boasts about his silent slave. This isn't how one reactions when she speaks.

Gage takes another step closer, and she flinches out of instinct. It feels as though all her advances, all his hard work with trying to make her trust him, has disappeared in her moment of weakness. I'm so weak. Gage hesitates for only a second before he takes one last step toward her and engulfs her in a hug. Her muscles tense for a second before she relaxes in his arms and lets the weight of everything fall onto him. All of it, even the scars that mar her body temporarily stop their psychological babble of reinforcement.

"Thank you, so, so much," he breathes into her ear. "You rescued me. I can't imagine the strength it took to warn me."

Strength? She shakes her head, disbelieving. No, speaking is definitely her weakness.

"Yes," he disagrees. "What you did took a lot of courage and strength."

She presses her head against his chest and hears his heart beating powerfully. Weakness or strength, it was worth it just to hear this again.
CHAPTER 52: SANCTUARY

16 years old

Gage steps away from Summer after a few minutes, his gaze focused on something behind her. She hastily peers over her shoulder before completely spinning on her heels. It's her mum, still standing there with unease. She's adorned in her white "SCS" lab coat, though underneath is a woman who's grown in age since Summer's last seen her, and is undoubtedly her mother—even if she was created. Regardless, the feelings are all there. This woman is her mum.

"Hey," murmurs Mindy as her eyes search Summer's. "I'm . . . there are no words. I can't believe I found you after all these years." She closes her eyes and swallows thickly as tears stream down her porcelain cheeks. "I was afraid you were dead." Her voice is choked.

Summer's not quite sure what to think or say (if she'll say anything at all). She knows her mother ran away with her when she was a child, but she was working with the Secret Clock Society in that building. Relief and suspicion roll off Summer in waves, but relief washes over everything else. She doesn't even know why she's hesitating. She literally jumps past the space to her mum and lands in her arms like she used to do when she was a child.

Mindy sobs loudly and holds Summer so tight it hurts, but neither of them care. It's a reunion that should've happened years ago. They break apart after a long minute, and both sit, exhaling gratefully. Mindy and Summer stare at each other wordlessly, which is how Summer prefers it anyway. Mindy's face is full of wonder—not like how Gage looked at her after she spoke—but in pure, raw love. It's a look that takes Summer right back to her childhood, when everything was safe and warm and loving. All she can think about is curling onto her mother's lap like old times. Memories rush her as she thinks about story time, being tucked into bed, or waking in the middle of a storm to curl up next to her mum under the covers, knowing her warmth and strength would keep her safe. Without conscious thought, Summer practically sits on her mum's lap. Mindy embraces her and pulls her closer. It's all so overwhelming. So necessary. As if Summer's suppressed everything to protect herself, because thinking of her previous life hurts and burns deeper than any physical scar could. But now? She can let it all go, let her mother's touch cleanse the filth in her life.

They're both crying, and Mindy keeps murmuring, "my baby, my baby," as Mindy positions Summer's head in the crook of her neck. Mindy strokes her hair in a calming gesture she used to do whenever Summer was ill. They stay like that for twenty minutes as everyone remains quiet—besides murmurs from Cameron and Avery in the cockpit.

Gage perches next to Summer and holds his hand out to her which she takes appreciatively. Her eyes strain to see his expression, but she can tell immediately that it's apologetic. I've given you time, but now we've got to join reality, his face expresses. She sits up and stares at him expectantly.

"Listen—I'm sorry, but it's important," says Gage ruefully. "We know how they found us." He glances at Jaden in a mixture of regret and disgust.

Summer's eyes go wide as they jump between the two, her breath catching in her throat at his implication.

"It's not true!" screeches Jaden angrily. "Dammit! Why won't you listen to me?" No wonder she looks so pissed—it all makes sense now.

Gage shakes his head. "She had a tracking device on her this whole time—in her Astropad."

"Mindy," pleads Jaden, "tell them I would never do this. Please! We all have Astropads—how the hell was I supposed to know mine was bugged?"

Mindy bites her bottom lip and frown lines form on her forehead. "I don't know what your role is with the Society," she says truthfully. "They barely trusted me when I went back to them in desperation to find Summer. I can't vouch for you, nor can I prosecute you."

Jaden's dark eyes seek out Summer's. "You couldn't possibly believe this. Don't you think I would have brought you to them sooner if that were the case? I rescued you off that ship and everything!"

Summer wavers, unsure what to think. Jaden's been a true friend to her, helping her when she was in need. Was it all a lie?

"Unless they wanted Summer to trust you," counters Gage. "You forget I've been trained. And one of my specialties is to uncover spies. I will find out the truth; you can count on that."

"Quit bragging," jokes Cameron good-naturedly from the cockpit.

"Anyway," says Gage, "we were able to use Jaden's GPS to find the Secret Clock Society's headquarters, thanks to Ethan. He suggests we go straight to New York. Afterward we destroyed the Astropad."

"Can't they just physically follow us?" asks Mindy, clearly frightened.

Cameron laughs jovially from the cockpit. "I'd like to see those splashy pieces of work try. Last night I snuck onto their property—thanks to Ethan's suave hacking skills—and disabled all of their hovercrafts and cars. They'll be searching for the solutions on how to fix them for a long time."

"We almost didn't let Mindy come along," admits Gage sheepishly.

"I'm glad you did," Summer writes on his palm, retreating back into silence. Then she writes, "Thank you."

Gages sighs. She knows it's because she's writing on his palm instead of speaking, but he gives a small nod. "She's your mom—she was sincere. Plus, when she realized what was happening she disabled two of the lab techs." He grins at Mindy. "She's like a ninja or something."

Mindy chuckles.

"We've crossed the border into New York, though President Montgomery's requested we be escorted," says Cameron as several hovercrafts appear on her radar screen.

Several minutes pass in silence, and Summer leans her head on Gage's shoulder and holds his and her mum's hands. Her breaths finally grow even as her eyes close in relaxation. She's exhausted and slightly terrified at what the future holds for her—for them all, really—but in this one moment she's content.
EPILOGUE

Julian sits on an examination table as he pulls on a shoe. He's roughly six feet tall with a thin, muscular build, and has hair as dark as the night's sky. His deep voice, crisp and annoyed, fills the room. "Is that all?"

"Unless you want a lollipop?" says Doctor Zhar comically.

He's not amused. "I'm not six anymore," barks Julian as he seizes his other shoe.

"No, you certainly aren't." Doctor Zhar sighs exhaustedly as she makes a note in his file. Her silky black hair falls in her face, her skin dark due to her Middle Eastern ancestors. "I know you hate these examinations, but if we can't fix you so you're useful to us, then we'll have to terminate the project."

Julian stands to his full height, which is ten inches taller than the tiny Doctor Zhar. His eyes are a boiling, deep blue. "I'm not stupid. I know what 'terminate the project' means." He marches toward the door, flings it open, and continues down the hall as the door bounces off the wall.

"I know you're not stupid," says Doctor Zhar as she follows in his wake, her legs having to move twice as fast to keep up with his gait. "A fool, most definitely, but not stupid."

Julian stops and swings around, his hands in fists at his side. Doctor Zhar almost runs into him. "I'm no fool," he shouts, his teeth gritted. "If anything, you're all the fools here. It's not my fault you miscalculated twice"—he holds up two fingers in her face—"and expect both of us to perform the same when we are obviously built so differently!" He pivots and continues to march down the hall, scowling.

"But you've got to think rationally here, Julian—if you keep resisting my examinations and the treatments then you're only asking for death," reasons Doctor Zhar as if she cares. She does—only because she'll lose her job if she fails.

"I am thinking rationally," he snaps.

"Then why'd you deny our request?"

"Because," he practically growls out, "if I seek her out then I'll definitely be terminated." He stops and spins around on her again, his face full of irritation. "Or you'll terminate her, and I can't have that."

"Why?" she asks smugly. "Are you that in love with her?"

Julian takes in a deep breath and turns away. "You did this."

"Did what?" She's just messing with him now, making fun of him. He hates that.

"Made me love her." His voice is soft. "I don't even know the girl—never even met her." He twists back around, his irritation flaring again. "Why did you do this to me? Can't you leave well enough alone?"

"I needed you to be more complacent," argues Doctor Zhar.

"You've never been in love, have you, Doctor?" asks Julian, rubbing his temple as if the whole conversation's giving him a massive headache. It kind of is.

"Why do you ask?" she asks defensively.

"Because it's irrational! That's why," snaps Julian. "And no matter how 'rational' I think I'm being, I know I'm not!"

Doctor Zhar only blinks at him in surprise.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to pack and find our little Time Bomb." He whips around and stomps the rest of the way down the hallway.

"Does that mean you accept our request?" she shouts after him.

"Yes," he yells back bitingly. "I don't have any other choice!"

Doctor Zhar stands stunned, her jaw hanging loosely. She doesn't follow him this time. Did she make a mistake? She hopes not.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

FIRST: the fans. I just don't even know where to begin. Thank you.

Thank you, beautiful, lovely, splendid Lisa Langdale a.k.a. Lucy Wofe. You've kept me in line, given me great advice, and have constantly been a source of . . . bestfriendness? Is that a word? I dunno. It is now! Without your notes, ideas, and encouragement, I'd be nowhere. Love you greatly. (Shout out to the whole Langdale family for letting me steal Lisa many nights. Kisses for my girls 'Kayla and Elf Princess. Fist bump—or we could sword fight?—for Donnie!)

Cesya Cuono: you always push everything aside when I need you, and I love you for that. You catch my silly mistakes and make me sound smarter. Together we'll move forward in our writing careers, helping and cheering each other as we excel at and exceed our goals.

Brianne Villano's a very special person. She's so incredibly smart everyone should bow to her intelligence. She's also my snarky editor that doesn't let me make "that" mistake . . . you know what I mean? The one you can't believe you made? Anyway, Bri, I love you much.

Jenn Baker, for being my lovely assistant. Brenda Pandos for her awesome books and being my fantastical business partner. Michael Kreitzer and Nate Shaw for being such amazingly awesome brothers; I couldn't ask for better. Jennifer Murgia for our chats about mean reviewers and how we're going to kill them off in our novels!

Shanda, Holly, Erika, Kat, and Traci for the support they've offered me during the hardest time of my life. (Breezy, Cherry, Pixie Kat, E's Erika: without NJ I would have never pulled myself from the floor.) A big thank you to Tiffany Madison for her positive attitude. She may never know how much better my life is with her in it—and Fictionista Workshop. Such amazing ladies; I'm so lucky.

Oh, my dear, dear parents: Debbie and Tony. You can blame EVERYTHING on them. It's all their fault. Yup—they're the ones that created this monster. They're also the ones who molded me into the person I am today, and there aren't enough thanks, acknowledgements, book dedications, or words in the entire universe that would expression my undying gratitude to them.

J.D. for helping create my "nook" and then buying me one so I'd get the two confused often. Love you dearly. Thanks also Linda! Chris Emberton, because his love outlives him, and for Ava, the daughter he loved unconditionally. Angie Vaughan for her friendship and love through crisis—and long afterward when it still just hurts. The Jepsons, the Camerons, Grandma & Grandpa, and all my family out in Utah. Thanks for supporting me through everything.

FORSAKEN HARBOR

BOOK TWO

SUMMER CHRONICLES

The Secret Clock Society has infiltrated every aspect of the government. You can't hide from them, you can't out run them—the only choice is to surrender or die fighting. Well, Summer's found her voice and her confidence. She'll fight if necessary, but for now she's on the run. And the only place that can offer her refuge is the one city that's been devastated with disease and death. Full of savages, Forsaken Harbor holds her life on the edge of a knife. Is there still hope to be found here after all? Or will survival mean savagery?

February 15, 2012

http://laurakreitzer.com
