Caged (The Idyllic Series Book 1) Read online

  A rectangle opens in the middle of the door. A tray slides through, clattering to the floor before the hole slides shut again.

  I consider backing farther away from the silver tray, remembering all the horrors that came on silver trays over the past few days. From where I sit, though, I can see the multi-colored cubes and smell the aroma of food.

  They’re feeding me.

  The hunger takes over, and I crawl towards the tray on my hands and knees. The squares give way to shapes that I recognize, food I’ve helped grow in the underground. A tomato rests beside a pile of baby carrots and slices of bright yellow squash. An apple, something I’ve not seen in a long time, blooms in the center of the tray, black seeds contrasting with the coarse interior.

  I grab for the food with greedy hands, reminding myself to chew before I swallow. The flavors explode in my mouth and bring tears to my eyes. The juices of the tomato mix with the blood covering the front of my shirt, running down my chin in chunky rivers. I wipe it away with my arm and sigh in pleasure.

  I’ve never tasted anything so delicious in all my life.

  I eat everything but the apple. My sensibility comes back to me after the hunger subsides. It isn’t smart to eat everything all at once. What if this is the only meal they give me? What if I was supposed to make it last?

  I crawl back to my corner with the apple in my hand and set the red fruit in the floor beside me. The color of its skin reminds me of the blood on the floor and of my nightmares. I bury my face in my arms.

  If I go to sleep, the scenes of death will haunt me, but with a full stomach, it’s hard to avoid the sleep fondling the dark corners of my eyes. My mind slips away into its warm arms, fading into the vivid nightmares.

  ✽✽✽

  After three days of training, when I’ve learned how to sit, stand, and speak, the torture sessions stop. Eins and Zwei don’t show up, and neither does my daily tray of food.

  Maybe they’ve finished. Have I been perfected? I don’t even slouch when I sit anymore. I know when to be silent, remembering the numbing sensation in my fingers from the electrocution they used to train me to follow commands.

  When my meal does arrive, Eins carries it in, accompanied by Zwei. Hesitant, I take the tray and hold it in front of me.

  “Eat, Subject 23,” Eins says, and I sit down on the floor to eat a carrot stick while I stare up at him.

  I’m not allowed to speak to him unless he asks me a question. I learned that on the first day. The fear of shock glues my mouth shut, paralyzing me.

  Zwei leans on the closed door with her hands behind her back.

  “We have some questions to ask you,” Eins says, watching me carefully with his one green eye. I nod, but my hands shake.

  He holds the black box. His thumb lingers over the switch and dances back and forth. As I watch, he pushes the black button, and shock spreads up my shoulder. I drop the food and look up at him, knowing my mistake.

  “Look at me when I’m speaking to you,” he growls as he kneels down in front of me.

  “Yes, Master,” I say clearly.

  “That’s a good girl,” he says, reaching out and grabbing a strand of my hair. His touch is gentle, as if a feather is landing on my head. Goosebumps spread over my arm and make me itch. I swallow hard, biting the inside of my cheek until I taste copper.

  “We want to ask you about your family,” Eins says, red eye focusing in on my face, “so we can find who to thank for the gift they’ve given to us.”

  I couldn’t look away from him if I tried.

  Zwei moves from her spot at the door, carrying what looks like a fork in her hand. She twirls it around her fingers and sits on her knees beside Eins.

  “First question: who are your parents?”

  I look back at Eins and squeeze my lips closed. While maintaining eye contact, I pick at my pants and pull a loose string from the hem. The soft thread squishes between my fingers as I ball it up.

  Fireworks explode in my head as a warning. The punishment for not answering his question will be steep, but I refuse to give away the location of the other Luddites, regardless of how scared I am.

  “Answer me, Subject 23.”

  That’s my warning. I’ll only get one. I keep staring at him, pressing the thread ball between my index finger and thumb in my pocket.

  He holds up the box and presses the button in my face. The electricity spiderwebs through my body, forcing me to close my eyes. It isn’t the strongest shock I’ve faced, but the pain lingers even after he lets off the button.

  “Tell me the names of your family members,” Eins says in a whispery tone. I take gasps of breath. My chest rises and falls quickly.

  There’s no warning this time.

  He holds the button down for a solid thirty seconds and sets my body alight. I grit my teeth, forcing both of my hands into fists at my side. A strong smell fills the air--a mixture of seared hair and smoke. When the pain relents, my skin feels like it is melting off. My legs under me are numb.

  “She’s a tough little cutie,” Zwei says as she twirls her fork. Eins glares at her, and she just raises an eyebrow. “Maybe you aren’t asking the right question.”

  “Fine,” he says. “We know you’re part of the Luddite community. Where are the rest of your friends?”

  I stare up at him. My shoulders shake.

  How does he know about the Luddites? Maybe Linux didn’t get away in the alley. If they interrogated him the same way, Linux would have given in long before me. How much more would he have told them? Regardless, I can’t break.

  Another blast hits my chest with all the force of a truck and sends me backwards away from Eins. The pain sends tremors up my body; the edges of my vision go black.

  “Wow,” Zwei says. “Looks like your little trick isn’t going to work. Is it my turn?”

  Eins presses the button again, holding it as I struggle to breathe.

  “She will give in eventually,” he whispers as I black out.

  The peace of darkness comforts me. My body floats in a sea of black, cushioned by gentle waters and a thousand stars. Everything is numb. My heartbeat ricochets around the emptiness. I wouldn’t mind staying in this moment.

  Forever.

  The water around me turns to blood, and there’s a sharp pain in my arm. Light erupts around me, and I suck in air. My eyes shoot open.

  Zwei stands over me with her petite hand on my shoulder.

  A new pain lights up my arm-- a pain different than the shock. I risk looking down. Her silver fork-like tool stands upright out of my forearm. Rivers of bright red blood stream down my arm and contrast with the white cushions under me.

  “Well, that woke you up, cutie,” Zwei says with a smile.

  One arm still on my shoulder, she jerks the fork up and out of my arm, and I scream.

  “So your vocal cords do still work!” Zwei says, almost squealing. “Question time again. Where can we find the other Luddites?”

  I shake my head viciously and stare up at her. A darkness cloaks her bright blue eyes that makes me wish I was facing an Artificial instead.

  “No? Your decision.”

  She jabs the fork down again, so deep this time that I swear it rips through muscles and bone. I’m screaming again, body wracked with vicious sobs. When she pulls the weapon out again, my head falls back against the floor. My vision swims.

  “Shock her. I don’t want her to pass out,” Zwei says.

  Eins sends a little jolt my way that forces my eyes open.

  “I don’t think she’s going to talk,” Zwei says.

  “Then, drive another fork in her arm.”

  I brace myself, but no amount of preparation could brace me as she stabs me once again. She gives the fork a little shake as I scream and thrash under her.

  “Beg me to stop,” she whispers, leaning down to my ear. I shake my head, unable to catch my breath. A fire spreads through my lungs.

  “No,” I whisper as my eyes fall closed once again.


  They say something to one another, but it’s lost in the cotton filling my eyes are ears.

  A shock brings me back to awareness, to the form of a cyber that I’ve never seen before looming over me. The bright green makeup on his face outlines strangely gray eyes.

  Out of the corner of my eye, Eins stands up, storming out of the room. Zwei follows, her hair a comet’s tail behind her. I blink at the cyber as he picks me up.

  “Idyllic,” he mumbles, “All emotion and no logic.”

  Unable to hold my eyes open any longer, I fall back into the blissful nothing of the water.

  ✽✽✽

  I float on my back, arms spread on either side of me, body enveloped in black ribbons of liquid. My eyes are closed, but a gentle gray light shines above me. As I float, the light grows brighter until it is unbearable. I reach a hand up to push it away, but something holds my hands down.

  The soft restraints on my wrists throw my mind into a panic. My throat constricts; my breathing comes in quick, short gasps. The water around me turns into furious waves, rocking my body back and forth.

  I open my eyes, and everything stops.

  The bright white light overhead bears down on me, making me squint.

  The events from before come crashing down like the waves of my dreams, and I look down at my arm, remembering the image of the silver fork sticking out of it. Nine small, silky circles shine on the surface of my hairless arm. Now, scars cover every inch of me.

  “Welcome back,” a machine’s voice says. It jerks my attention away from my arm. “Your arm is healed, and your body is recovering from all of the electric shock. We took you off of the sedative.”

  “Why?” I ask quietly as he walks around the table and collects data from the service machines. Realizing I’ve talked without permission, I brace myself for a shock that doesn’t come.

  “Because you’re being moved to a research and breeding room today,” he says.

  I let my head fall back and stare at the white ceiling tiles overhead.

  I knew this was coming. I wasn’t captured to be held in a training room forever. Yet, the idea of being poked and prodded with needles all day, forced to spend time with another human, cripples me. Forces much greater than I can begin to imagine will allow me to see the sun once a day.

  Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I wiggle on the table. The metal presses through the thin pants I’m wearing.

  “Release the restraints,” the cyber says and, after a long hiss, the fabric is pulled away from my wrists. I push myself up into a sitting position and watch the cyber pick up the red button before he turns to face me again.

  “Stand,” he commands, hand poised over the switch.

  Remembering the teeth-chattering pain of Eins and Zwei, I do as I’m told.

  “Walk toward the door,” he says, and I do, walking on the heels of my feet to avoid the cold floor. The door reacts to my cuff and slides open with a light breeze. The long hallway stretches before me, one long row of lights bearing down on the white tile below.

  “Walk out,” he says, prodding me with a cold hand.

  I walk down the hallway, passing the silver, unmarked doors of the testing cells. He pushes me on past the fork in the hall, past the training rooms to the right turn that I faced an eternity ago.

  Before me, another long hallway stretches.

  To my left are white doors labeled with black number-letter combinations. The first says ‘1a,’ and then ‘1b.’ Across from the first two doors, there’s a metal door with a black word painted on it:

  Exotic Skin Exhibit.

  I can’t see into the rooms or exhibits, but I crane my neck anyway as we pass, trying to catch a glimpse of them. One day, I’ll break them out. They’re humans; the last thing they deserve to be is caged.

  “This will be your room,” the machine says as he points at a door that says ‘3b’ on it in black lettering. I reach out and touch the door, tracing the place where it meets the frame. Unlike the other doors, it doesn’t react to my cuff. There’s a traditional electronic lock with a keypad. Picking it could be tricky.

  “As you can see, you are in the ‘b’ version of this room. You will be on the same schedule as Subject 3; he stays in the ‘a’ version of this room,” the machine explains.

  At the mention of an exhibit mate, I cringe.

  I glance at the door labeled ‘3a’ and notice the way the paint on the handle peels a little. How long has Subject 3 been here?

  “Yet, for now, you are going outside for some fresh air. You have been held inside for too long. You need to be completely healthy for research,” the machine says, turning me towards the ‘Eyes’ door, which is across the hall from my room.

  I reach for the handle and grip it tightly. Maybe I could run? Is there any exit to this hallway?

  No.

  The cyber also has the box in his hand, just waiting to shock me, and my knees shake at the thought of the electricity.

  “Be warned, Subject 23,” he says, turning the handle for me when I don’t move. “You will be watched constantly. You belong to the Anthropological Park now, and you are disposable.”

  Goosebumps spread up my arms. Disposable. Like trash.

  He nudges me out into the open air of the Eyes exhibit, and the door instantly shuts behind me.

  Chapter 7: Curious

  Eden

  One hand traces along the smooth wall as I walk forward through a glass tunnel. Outside the dome, there are empty sidewalks and more exhibits. The neighboring exhibit is too far away, and the trees prevent me from seeing into it.

  The tunnel opens up into a much larger space: the dome of the exhibit.

  In the middle is a giant tree, stretching all the way against the top of the glass. There’s a small pool of water, the bluest and cleanest I’ve ever seen. Beside the water is a metal bench. As I walk into the exhibit, the grass under my feet feels plastic. It crunches as I walk, stabbing my feet.

  I press a hand up against the glass of the dome.

  It’s thick-- thicker than it looks from the outside. The world appears distorted and discolored.

  Clenching my hand into a fist, I slam it into the glass.

  The only thing that comes out of it is a slight shock from my cuff.

  I take a few steps back, turning instead to the water. Like the grass, it looks fake. Reaching my hand out, I dip my fingers into the sky-blue liquid, watching the ripples spread away. After a moment, the shock comes, forcing me to jerk my hand back out.

  So, I can’t beat on the glass, and I can’t touch the water.

  That leaves me with the tree.

  The trunk is solid but real. Chunks of bark peel off as I pull my hand away. As much as I hate to, I give it one good hit with my open palm and pain spirals up my arm as the shock joins the natural pain. I shake my hand and taking a step back.

  “What are you doing?” asks an unfamiliar voice.

  I spin around, spreading my feet and bracing myself. My heart races, but the source of the voice surprises me.

  It’s a boy.

  He doesn’t look much older than me, but he’s taller. I find myself gazing up at him, at his soft, clean face and tousled brown hair. The white he wears only seems to compliment his barely tanned skin.

  After giving him the quick once-over, our eyes meet, and I suck in a breath.

  Lined by thick, black lashes are two multi-colored eyes. One is a light, sky-blue, and the other is half of the same blue and half dark brown. I’ve never seen anything as mesmerizing.

  “Answer the question,” he says, and I look away with a shake of my head.

  His voice reminds me of the cybers, precise and automatic. Yet, with eyes like that, there’s no way he’s a machine.

  “Can you talk?” he asks as he continues to stare down at me.

  My throat is filled with knots, preventing me from speaking. Can he be trusted? I was fooled once by a machine. Either way, I nod.

  “Then it is rude not to answer a dire
ct question.”

  I swallow hard and take a step away from him. My bare feet crunch against the grass, but I walk farther away until I’m flat against the tree’s trunk. Glancing around tells me that the cameras are either really well hidden or invisible.

  “They won’t give you any more chances,” he says with a little more gentleness this time. “What is your name?”

  I shake my head violently. My heart throbs in my temple.

  My cuff beeps, and the shock makes me yelp.

  “Eden,” I stammer, mind reeling from the shock.

  “That’s not right,” he whispers, and I lower my eyebrows in confusion.

  When another shock splits my arm in two, I understand.

  “I am Eden, Subject 23, inhabitant of the Eyes Exhibit.”

  My voice shakes as I bite back the pain. So, they are listening after all. I shouldn’t have doubted that cyber in the first place. Do the same rules apply to him? I glance down, but he’s got his arms folded behind his back.

  “What’s your name?” I risk asking, squeezing my hands into fists in case I’m shocked. It doesn’t come, though.

  “I am Knox, Subject 3, inhabitant of the Eyes Exhibit,” he says, breathy, silky. For a moment, he pants, like he forgot to breathe when he said his introduction.

  He stands about two feet away from me, lips parted, searching me with his multi-colored eyes. His desperate look reminds me of Linux when the boy works on computers. It could almost be described as intrigue, like he’s never seen anything like me.

  “Where did you come from?” he asks as he takes a step towards me. I press myself up against the tree and glare at him.

  “Don’t come any closer,” I hiss. His eyebrows shoot up, and he straightens his body and moves away.

  “I am sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I do not mean to scare you. I have never had a companion in my exhibit before.”

  I take a deep breath and relax.

  “I’m not scared,” I say.

  “Of course you are not. There is absolutely no fear in your eyes.”