Awakening: Dystopian Romance (Absence of Song Book 1) Read online

  “I’m not defensive, Mama, it’s just rude. It’s like you don’t believe me or something.” I cross my arms over my chest.

  “I believe you, dear,” my mother says. “Noah just hasn’t said much about it and I wanted to be sure.”

  Her voice is calm, soothing. It isn’t the voice of an officer, but that of a concerned mother. Still, I can’t help but fear her job with the Ministry might, or soon would, affect her like it has affected my father. I fear that when I look into my mother’s eyes, someday I will see the eyes of a Ministry officer, and not the eyes of my mama, the woman who loves me unconditionally, looking back at me.

  It’s happening more and more with my father, and I don’t know if I can take it happening with my mother too. I worry now that telling my mother everything hadn’t been the best idea after all.

  “It’s okay, Jaelynn.” Noah intercedes calmly, his eyes finding mine again, like he’s reading my thoughts. He smiles, causing the dimples in his chin to deepen, and his eyes soothe something inside me I can’t even explain. Uncrossing my arms, I feel my body begin to relax and find I’m not sure why I’d gotten so upset in the first place.

  He continues, “It’s only a question, and one I’m happy to answer to the best of my ability.”

  “To the best of your ability?” Mama raises an eyebrow. “Go on please.”

  Noah nods, sitting up straighter and clearing his throat. “I know how ridiculous this might sound, but please hear me out.” He pauses, then continues, “I believe all of this is a sign from some higher being, some other life form, that we simply can’t explain or see. I believe that this — being or power — wants Jaelynn and me to work together, to use our abilities to bring food and water back to the people of the Valley, and eventually, the world.”

  My mother starts to cough as if she’s choking on a bite of her food. I stand up and rush to her side to help, but she raises her hand up to indicate she’s fine.

  “Sorry, that just caught me off guard. I really don’t know what to say that.” She blinks, eyes watery from choking.

  I look over at Noah, and I can see he is speaking the truth. That he believes every word he’s uttered. But I can’t repress a feeling in the back of my mind that there is something more he’s not telling us.

  Something else lurks deeper within his story and he seems to understand things with much more clarity than he is letting on. I study him silently, perplexed.

  Mama sits back in her chair and stares at the ceiling, appearing to be processing what Noah has said. With my mother’s eyes diverted, Noah takes that moment to wink at me and mouth the word, “Later.” He remains quiet though, and waits for my Mother to speak again.

  “Is there anything else to say?” I burst out, for a second time this evening. I’m having trouble holding my tongue today. “I mean, you’ve already said that we can’t be alone together, and that this must stop. So whatever is happening won’t happen again, and that’s the end of it.” I bite my lip so hard, I think it might bleed in my effort to stem the flow of words.

  Noah just locks his eyes on mine and smiles. The silence is awkward and uncomfortable though, so I break contact and stand up, taking our dishes over to the sink just to have something to do to fill the void. There is just enough water left from our rations to wash the dishes.

  “I guess that’s the end of it then,” my mother comments as she looks over at us, an expression of weariness drawing down over her face like a window shade.

  I feel a prick of conscience. “Why don’t you go lie down, get some rest, Mama,” I suggest.

  My mother shakes her head, eyeing us both. “No, you two can’t be left alone.”

  “I’ll go back to the shed now,” Noah offers, standing up.

  “Even so, I think as long as we’re all awake, someone should be around. Just in case,” Mama says.

  Looking at the clock, I am relieved to see it’s time for me to head into town to pick up our rations.

  “Mama, I have to head out in a bit anyway. Noah will stay here, and you can get some sleep. It will be fine. We won’t be here together alone, promise.”

  I make the promise knowing full well that at some point, we will have to break it. I feel another prick of conscience. I don’t like being dishonest, but I feel like I have to if I want to know more about what Noah was talking about earlier. I need to know what he meant when he said ‘later’ to me. It all sounds so crazy, but he seems so convinced it’s true he nearly has me convinced too.

  Mama looks grateful and nods. “Okay then. I’ll go lie down for a bit. Your father will be here soon, so Noah needs to stay hidden and the shed needs to be painted before he gets here.”

  “I’ll take care of that,” Noah assures her. “Just tell me where to find some paint. It’s not like I haven’t done my share painting before.”

  I nod. “There’s some in the cellar from the last time we painted. I’ll show you—” I start to say, but my mother glares at me. “Actually, I’ll go down and get it for you myself,” I amend quickly.

  I move toward the back door with a sigh. This is going to get old. I really need to get going in order to collect our rations. I don’t have time to carry paint up the stairs and outside, but I know there is no way Noah will know where to look for it on his own. I grimace and open the creaky door to the cellar, waiting a moment for the sunlight to light illuminate my steps.

  When my eyes finally adjust, the trail of sunlight filtering in through the door illuminates one of the walls. Shadows are dancing around the room and suddenly the hairs on my arms stand on end.

  An electrical force fills the room with a pressure I can feel, nearly taking my breath away. It isn’t as strong as the night before, but something is here, and it clearly isn’t Noah. I can feel it.

  I gasp when my body spasms, the feeling of thousands of electrical surges tearing through me. Though my eyes water and my vision wavers, I can’t say it hurts exactly — although it doesn’t feel good either.

  Yet something in the back of my mind whispers for me to be calm. The voice, or whatever ‘It’ is, is soothing, calling to me, and it helps my entire body to relax, to simply allow whatever is happening to happen.

  Whatever this is, whatever is happening, it is good. There is no denying that. As my vision begins to clear, I refocus on the light and shadows dancing on the wall before me.

  In the pattern it creates, I can see outlined undeniably, the very same symbol that mysteriously appeared on our shed door during the night.

  I revel in the feeling winding its way through my body as I step closer and trace my fingertips over the symbol on the wall, feeling a warmth even more comforting than that of the sunlight seep into my skin just from that one simple touch. My lips part in wonder.

  At first the noise invading my mind is distant. And then, quite suddenly, it is insistent.

  It’s as if a bubble has burst, yanking me out of a feeling of near—euphoria, plunking me squarely back into reality, which isn’t nearly as pleasant.

  The noise is a loud, rumbling sound both familiar and not. As the last vestiges of the wonderful feeling I’d been sort of floating in drifts away, comprehension begins to take hold and I start to register what I’m hearing.

  My heart stutters over itself as my eyes widen. I leave the paint sitting in the corner of the cellar, rush back upstairs, and leave the door wide open in my desperation to make sure Noah stays hidden.

  The rumbling fills my ears, louder now. There is more than just one vehicle. I rush into the house, but the kitchen is empty. Noah is nowhere to be found, neither is my mother.

  “Mama!” I shout, racing to the back bedroom.

  She isn’t there. Panic blooms as I wonder if they have taken her away. For what, I don’t know, but they could do it. They don’t even have to have a reason.

  “Mama!” I shout again, feeling as though my voice might crack the windows, it echoes so loudly.

  The back door swings open, and I prepare myself for a fight. But instea
d, my mother’s tired eyes greet me, wide with worry. Rushing forward, she wraps her arms around me and hugs me tightly.

  “Jaelynn,” she says. “What’s wrong? You scared me half to death yelling like that.”

  “It’s the Ministry,” I say, my voice cracking. “They’re here.”

  VIII

  “I know, honey,” my mother reassures me. “And it’s okay. Noah is hidden. I rushed him back out to the shed. He’s safe.”

  “But why are they here?” I ask.

  Mama doesn’t answer me. And looking into her tired eyes, I realize she probably doesn’t even have an answer. We both listen as the vehicles rumble on the road, and it only takes me a moment to realize they aren’t stopping. Not outside our house at least. The sounds fade away until we can no longer hear anything but my mother’s wind chimes tinkling with the soft breeze blowing outside.

  “They’re not here for us, sweetie.” Relief colors her voice as my mother pushes her hair back from her face, meeting my eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on, but they’re not here for us.” She sighs heavily, her shoulders slumping. I’m a little slower to relax though.

  My mother trusts the Ministry much more than I do, believing that at heart, its intentions are good. Even noble in the end. But I have never felt such a distrust or fear in my life as what I feel for the Ministry. It is something to be feared. You don’t want to be on the wrong side of its law and I do everything in my power to never cross it.

  Being a daughter of not one, but two of their loyal guards protects me to a degree, but I know even that protection has its limits. Taking a deep breath, I silently urge my heartbeat to return to normal. I take another deep breath, grateful to find it seems to help somewhat in steadying my nerves.

  “I’m going to go fetch our rations now Mama,” I say. “It’s probably best to carry on like normal.”

  She looks as if she doesn’t want to let me go, but only nods. “I agree. Normal is good.”

  “Get some rest,” I suggest. “You’ll need it. You probably get called back into work later, if something is indeed happening.”

  Again, she only nods. Her eyes are weary and exhausted, but I can see that sleep is the last thing on her mind. I continue, “Noah can stay put for now. They’re not coming for us.”

  This time.

  It takes me a second to realize those last words had only been spoken within the confines of my mind. My mother hadn’t said them, nor had I heard them. I look around as if someone had entered the room and spoken to me, but I know that we are alone. I feel unsettled, and give my head a hard shake, trying to clear it.

  “Okay, I need to go, Mama,” I say, pulling my mom’s arms from around my waist. “If we want to eat this month, I need to go.” I raise a brow.

  “I know,” she agrees, letting me go, but the pained look on her face tells me she wants to just keep holding me, to keep me safe.

  “I’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s nothing,” I assure her, though both of us know that isn’t true.

  Judging by the number of vehicles that had rumbled past, something big, and probably unpleasant is going on somewhere. Thankfully, it isn’t nearby, nor is it in the direction of town. Grabbing my basket, I bundle myself up tightly in my cardigan. I shiver, but it certainly isn’t from the cold.

  “If you see anything strange,” Mama warns me, “You come right home. Show them your I.D. if anyone tries to stop you. They’ll know you’re our daughter, and you should be fine. Don’t be afraid to ask them for help if you need it. And please be careful Jaelynn.”

  I know all of this, my mother gives me the same speech every time I leave the house. But it’s still nice to know she cares enough to do it. I give her a warm smile.

  “I’ll be okay,” I reassure her. “Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.”

  As I slip outside, I remember the shed and curse to myself. The paint. With a sigh, I walk back toward the back of the house again, to retrieve the paint I left in the cellar.

  Before I get there, I stop dead in my tracks. The door of the shed is closed, but I can still hear those soft sounds from before coming from it. Looking around to make sure my mom isn’t watching from a window, I change directions, crossing back over to the shed to knock.

  “Psssst. It’s me, Jaelynn,” I whisper. The noise inside stops immediately, and the door creaks open.

  “Your mom’s going to catch us,” he warns.

  “I’m not going to be long. I just wanted to tell you I will leave the paint outside the shed door for you. My dad will be home shortly, so please get that thing covered soon.”

  He smiles as if he can read my mind. “Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

  “No, I also wanted to tell you to be careful. I can hear that music from out here.”

  “Music?” He looks at me, appearing genuinely dismayed. “What music?”

  “The music you are humming or playing on that thing you have,” I motion toward the stringed item propped against the shed wall.

  “But I wasn’t,” he protests, eyes wide.

  I sigh and shake my head. I looked back toward the house to be sure my mother’s face isn’t in the windows. I don’t have time to argue with him. I know what I heard.

  “Whatever it was, be careful. You must be super quiet at all times, or you’ll not only get yourself in trouble, but me as well. And I trust you to keep us both safe, Noah. So please, no more singing or music, okay?”

  Noah opens his mouth as if to argue some more, but I shoot him a look and he snaps it closed.

  “I’ll do my best,” he says instead.

  I realize that will have to do. Turning on my heel, I walk toward the cellar and head down to grab the paint, before heading back up and setting it outside the shed as promised. The marks on the door seem to have gotten darker, and I worry the red paint won’t be heavy enough to cover it up.

  I knock once to let Noah know the paint is there, and set off for town. As I walk, I let myself forget about the excitement from earlier as I hum to myself softly, singing the song that always comes to me in my dreams.

  The music fills me, lifting me up. As I walk, I let myself float, my mind drifting in a trance—like state, the music winding through my soul. Continuing on, I’m practically oblivious to my surroundings, and wind up making a very wrong turn somewhere.

  Instead of going right at the fork in the road as I should, which is the direction of the market, I am so caught up in the music, I continue going straight instead. When I finally notice my mistake, I don’t even bother turning around, I just keep walking.

  I know this road will eventually lead to Mr. Stanton’s farm, and beyond that, to the next town over, but I know I won’t make it that far. The woods around me stand eerily quiet and lifeless, which seemed fitting for trees that are no longer green, but are instead brown and dead.

  As I walk, I feel like I’m being pulled along. Guided almost. It’s as though there is a string attached to me, and somebody is walking me along to somewhere I need to be. And for reasons I can’t articulate, even to myself, I trust the somebody whose hand is guiding me. I trust whoever or whatever is pulling the string. I’m not afraid. In fact, I feel calm. Peaceful. It feels right to give myself over to this feeling of trust, because I somehow know it will not lead me astray.

  Just then I hear a rumbling sound, stopping me dead in the middle of the path. Standing stock still in the road, I’m not sure which direction the sounds are coming from. But instinctively I know I need to step off the path. Need to hide myself.

  The sound is still in the distance, or so I think. It isn’t until I step into the woods that I realize the sound isn’t coming from up the road, but from somewhere amongst the trees. I’m nervous, but walk toward the sound despite myself. I know what the sound is already, and it has me wondering just what the Ministry is doing so deep inside the forest.

  Is something going on at Mr. Stanton’s farm? Have they discovered something in the woods?

  Pushing my way through the dead bran
ches and dried brush, I make my way through the bramble, creeping closer to the rumbling noise. I stop in my tracks yet again though, when I see Leora Blackwood herself standing in the midst of a group of vehicles. The woman’s long hair hangs down to her waist in sleek waves and is so black it glints almost blue in the light. Her attire is all black as well, which is standard for the Ministry officers. Unlike the officers however, she wears heels that make her tower over the men and women who stand guard near her.

  Despite the guards, there is an air of authority about her, one that says she doesn’t need people with guns to protect her, that she can do it herself. I’ve only seen her once before, as a child, at her inauguration. My father had been on duty that night, and our entire family was invited to attend. That was 10, maybe 12 years ago, and Leora hasn’t changed one bit in that time. Not a single wrinkle mars her soft white skin and her hair is still as dark as it had been the day I met her. I remember shaking her hand, and the woman eyeing me up and down as if I was a piece of meat. It scared me, and I retreated into the bathroom where I ended up staying for the remainder of the event.

  Even now, her dark eyes can pierce your soul, even from a distance. I hold my breath, almost too scared to draw air for fear of drawing their attention. It isn’t necessarily illegal to be walking in this part of the Valley, but I’d probably be questioned as to my reasons. And I have no reasons exactly, except that I got lost while walking to the same market I’ve walked to countless times before in my life. I swallow back a snort. Yeah, because that will go over well.

  From where I’m hunkered down behind the scraggly bush, I can hear talking. A familiar voice soon draws my attention, and I notice a tall muscular man standing at Leora side. My lips part on a silent gasp.

  It’s my father. His eyes sparkle every time he looks at Ms. Blackwood, and his face lights up in ways I haven’t seen in many years. I feel a sharp pang in my heart. I remember when he used to look at my mother in the same manner, and even smile at her the way he is now smiling at Leora. Leora of all people.

  But it has been years since he and my mother shared looks like that. I almost forgot he could smile at all until this moment.