Mortal - Chapter 12

Premise: In this young-adult dystopian novel, people can no longer die. But they still feel pain, and suffer--and it's maddening. Because of the chaos that ensued, the US Government created a program to figure out how to kill people. When Garrett, a teenager, falls into a coma for weeks as a result of an experiment, the Program sets its malicious sights on him.

This is the twelfth chapter of the novel, Mortal. Click here for the beginning of the story. Or, click here for Chapter 11.

The hours to dinner were nearly unbearable, but they eventually dissipated. My arms are achy from the hours of the continuous weights lifting. My mind is clouded with the haze of resignation. The door opens and people start pooling in, looking sickly and exhausted from their evaluations.

I stand up and begin to head to the front. I’m jittery with anxiety for tomorrow and need to talk to Therese and Abel to settle my thoughts. Joe intercepts me, and we stare at each other a long time. He seems to have slimmed down and has developed a twitch below his right eye. I should be angry with him, as I still believed our second confrontation led to the firearms test. But could I blame him? No. He’s just like me. He’s tired of the pain and is ready to live.   

“Hey, Joe,” I greet, “Long time no see, eh?”

“Get out of my sight,” he snarls and pushes past me.

I stumble to the side and watch with a frown as he leaves. Could I really just leave him? All of them? What granted me the right and not them? Tears stab at my eyes as I see Therese coming towards me with a loose grin. I split the distance between us and pull her into an embrace, ignoring the itching fact that I’m touching her.

“What?” she asks me, pulling away.

I shake my head, never meeting her eyes, “Where’s Abel?”

“He’s talking to someone. I don’t know about what,” she replies.

I glance up at her, and she’s smiling. And I feel terrible. Because it should be Therese who leaves. I don’t think I could be hurt anymore than she has—no matter how hard those scientists try to kill me.

“Follow me,” my voice cracks, and I turn away from her and lead her to the weights area, and we sit on the bench.

“What’s the matter, Garrett?” Therese finally asks.

I’m not facing her, picking at my finger nails, trying to figure out a way I can deal with the guilt of leaving. I can’t. “I’m…I don’t think I can leave, Therese.”

“Don’t be stupid,” she breathes, “We have this all planned out, and I’ve been thinking a lot about it…and I think it can work.”

“I don’t want it to,” I say numbly.  “It’s…it’s not fair to you.”

Therese sighs, “Not fair to me? Garrett, none of this is fair to any of us. So let me be fair to you. Let me help you get out of here.”

I groan and hang my head back, so that I’m looking up at the ceiling. This whole thing is so confusing, I don’t know what to think. After a moment of silence, I mutter, “You’re incredible, you know that?”

“Yeah,” she bobs her head arrogantly, “I know.”

I position myself, so that my body is facing hers, and I grab her hand. “I promise you, Therese, I’m going to end Eden like I should have done with that interview. I will get you out of here—whatever it takes.”

She pulls her hand away, and smiles slightly, her eyes cast downwards, “You’re sweet.” She grabs my chin with her hands, and leans in to kiss me on my cheek. I inadvertently flinch, and my skin burns, and the heat only increases from the shame of my disgust.

She pulls away and smiles anyway, and I begin to wonder if she even noticed my discomfort. “It’s okay,” she says, biting her lip, “And, I know you will.”

“We’ll go get pizza or something,” I try to suggest cheerfully, but it sounds more like a distraught mutter.

“Mmmm…pizza. It’s been a while,” Therese muses.

I glance up to see Abel heading our way and quickly scamper off the bench, and let him sit down. I might scream if I have to sit next to Therese any longer.

“Sorry about that,” he says, “There was something I needed to take care of.”

“No worries,” Therese reassures with the twitch of her lip. I, however stare at him with incredulity. What could he possibly need to take care of with some no-name inmate on the night before our escape?

“Garrett,” Abel meets my gaze, so I soften my face,  “There’s some things we need to discuss. Like, where we should go after we leave Eden.”

My stomach drops. Oh yeah. Right. Out there is totally different from the program. We’d have to get jobs…buy an apartment…I’ll have to learn to drive a car…

Abel must have seen the terror on my face because he quickly begins suggesting places like small towns in the middle of nowhere, somewhere on the beach, in the mountains, or even outside the United States. When I pull myself back to reality, I shake my head dismissively, “No. I know where to go.”

“And where’s that?” Abel asks.

I press my lips together, wondering what Abel might think. I feel like he would approve, but he has this protective nature about him that might make him a bit unreasonable, “Not exactly where…more so to who…”

Abel’s eyes narrow.

“Edward Gild,” I say firmly, “We need to see Edward Gild.”

“Absolutely not,” Abel rejects almost too quickly.

“Why?” I demand.

“Garrett,” Abel begins with an exasperated sigh, and then warns, “We’re escaping from Project Eden. The last thing we need is trouble, and that man is just too much.”

I clench my jaw angrily, “He’s the only way we can—“

“I think going to Gild might be a good idea, Abel,” Therese agrees with me. “We all know how he works. He only cares about the story. Well, guess what? That’s what you two are. You’ll be safe and well taken care of, I’m sure.”

“The Secretary would be expecting we go to him. He’s the only person on the outside that Garrett’s had any contact with. Not to mention, we have no idea where he lives,” Abel points out bitterly.

I bite my lip, thinking. I then swing my finger towards him and say, “Actually, I know exactly where he lives,” I decide to explain once I see Abel’s impatient confusion, “After the interview, Edward Gild gave me his business card. I bet I still have it.”

“You’re not listening!” Abel growls, “The Secretary will know where you are just as you know where Gild is. He can’t protect us from the government.”

“And what makes you think Paracot cares?” I ask, “Sure, I’m his little breakthrough patient, but it doesn’t mean he’ll search the world for me. He might as well think anyone can get into a coma here, and not just me. And as much as Edward Gild is a jerk, I trust him.”

“You trust him?” Abel asks with disbelief.

I shrug, “I trust him to keep his story safe.”

Abel’s hard gaze bores into me, “If you want a chance at a normal life, I highly suggest you listen to me. You seem to be forgetting the desperation of these men. They are desperate enough to search the entire world for you.” He looks away from me and watches one of the inmates wandering near us, “We’re busy,” Abel tells him sternly and the man quickly walks away.

“It’s a no, Garrett,” Abel says.

“Okay,” I swallow. There’s no point in arguing with him at the moment, but I haven’t given up on going to Gild, and I would get there, no matter what, even if I have to part ways with Abel along the way.

“How are you two going to get out of town?” Therese wonders.

Abel clears his throat, “The train seems the least complicated.”

Therese looks at both of us with a weird expression, “Both of you have no money. How are you going to get the tickets that will get you on a train?”

“Uh… Abel?” I prompt, the impossibility of this escape weighing me down.

Abel sighs, “I can check my bank account, but it’s unlikely it’s still activated, but let’s not worry about that now.”

“Uh…okay?” I would think the problem of getting out this city would deserve a little more thought.

“I promise you, Garrett. Everything will turn out the way it’s supposed to.”

After dinner, I go to my room alone. I can feel my nerves crawling around stomach, and it takes a good amount of effort to not throw up. What if it doesn’t work? What if we can’t even get into his office? What if we can’t get through the window? And how are we supposed to board a train without any money? Does Abel expect us to steal? He seems so sure of himself…it’s bizarre. I guess that’s what happens when you get past a hundred years in age. You get wise…or just cocky.

I get to my room, and I go to my dresser to check my pants’ pockets for Edward Gild’s business card. I smile because it’s still there. I read it over carefully. The Gilded Age is based in Chicago, Illinois. I bite my lip, thinking. I’ll have to convince Abel to go somewhere near there. We hadn’t decided where to go yet since we figured that choosing the location with the earliest departure is the best idea. I grimace. I hope Gild still considers me a story when I get to him, and with that, I pocket the card.  

I prepare for bed methodically, paying attention to every part of my routine, realizing that this will be the last time I do them as long as everything works out like Abel promises. I slip into my sheets right as Peter enters the room. He nods to me, and I turn my head up to the ceiling. No more pain. Well, yes, there will still be pain, but nothing like I’ve endured. It will be pain that someone can actually handle, can thrive on. And I look forward to this because I can’t think of a time in my life when I only got the normal pain.

If everything goes as planned, tomorrow will be the day I become a part of the living.

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