The Luminosity Series (Book 1): Luminosity Page 17

  The guards didn’t hold back. They aimed their assault rifles at resisters in the crowd with no hesitation to pull the trigger on those still daring enough to resist. Evan faced me with a crinkled forehead—an obvious expression of grief as he took my hand to escape. My eyesight bounced from left to right in the midst of fired rifles, my body jolting forward, his arm towing me. After that, all I remembered was the explosion of gunfire and screams, Evan’s raging, desperate shouts, and the thud of the car door slamming… before everything went blurry.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Two days passed since that night. Evan was sick in a state of grief, his body still trembling from the aftershock of death’s quake, much like how he reacted after his father died. But this time, the optimism I’d seen return in him was absent. Now, he wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t eat, nor did he bother to look me in the eye. By the end of the second day, the grief had squeezed him so hard, tears expelled themselves without effort.

  Frustrated, I slid my forearm across my eyes to dry them. He sat at the base of the staircase with his hood over his head, staring out the window at the town mercilessly. It was hypocritical for me to be upset, but it wasn’t fair for him to sacrifice the time we had left blaming himself for this.

  “You have to stop this,” I said. He looked up at me in a gradual manner, his expression tightening, detecting my impatience. “There was nothing you could have done. Please… just get up,” I begged, grabbing his arm to pull him up. He shook me off stubbornly.

  “I could have stopped him,” he said under his breath.

  “This was his choice. It was too late.” I hated being so blunt, but we couldn’t avoid the truth forever. Jake was right about himself. He was as good as dead, just like the millions of others who’d face the same devastation after getting their denial letter. I was through pretending that the end would never come.

  “I’m the reason he’s gone, Aubrey...” He glared at me in disgust.

  “No you’re not.” I shook my head furiously as he rose from the stairs. “Jake didn’t want you to save him, remember?” I asked, struggling to think of something more to justify my point.

  “His life is over because I didn’t warn him about the tunnel, Aubrey. And now I’ll live with that for the rest of my life.”

  “You said it yourself. He wanted to die,” I choked out in sobs. He paused and swallowed.

  “You didn’t know Jake like I did. He wasn’t always like this,” he said, his eyes appearing red again as he turned away. By now, I was furious.

  “But you can’t—you can’t change people back to who they were before this started,” I burst into a cry. Evan looked at me, swallowing hard again as he stood up straighter.

  “Nobody’s lives are perfect. Don’t you see now? We all come from broken pasts. Sometimes all we need is someone who’s willing to stick around and fight for what still matters.” He let out a breath. I sighed.

  “But that doesn’t mean you’re responsible for everything that happens,” I said, my eyes stalking his cloudy gaze.

  “Maybe not, but this… this I could have prevented.” He nodded his head, sniffling away the anger.

  “No, Evan. You couldn’t. It doesn’t work like that, no matter how much I wish it did,” I said.

  “Well, unlike you, Aubrey, I’ve never had the nerve to walk away from the people I love. So what other choice do I have than to try and prevent someone else from being taken from me?” he said in a quiet undertone. I paused in shock. I couldn’t look at him after that. I couldn’t even breathe.

  “Why would you… How can you say that to me?” I asked, denying his remark in tears as he scowled at his words.

  “Aubs… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,” Evan said, his eyes flickering in remorse.

  “I—I can’t—” I panicked, glaring at him, defeated by the bite in his attitude. He swallowed, wrapping his arms around me as the guilt puddled his eyes.

  “Hey… I take it back, okay?” he said in an apologetic, quavering tone. I peered up in hesitation, shaking as he pulled the strands of hair blocking my view. “It’s just that you’re always right about the bad things. And just this once… just this once I wish you weren’t.” And that’s when he finally let go and broke down into grief.

  A few moments passed as we stood there, motionless and drained in the wake of sobs. Before I knew it, Evan’s clutch on me grew stronger, as if afraid he’d lose me. Then, he kissed me on the forehead with forceful lips before adjusting his grasp, his sorrowful breaths releasing heat against my cold cheek. That night, Jake’s death came as an unexpected warning to us all—a sign we were all about to decipher.

  21 UNVEILED

  Two weeks had passed since Jake’s death. By now, I allowed myself to forget the compass. But I couldn’t allow the mystery surrounding the photos to go unsolved anymore. Jake’s death served as a diversion to my family’s investigation. And I had yet to find any evidence of my suspicions.

  The house was quiet as I peered out my bedroom window. Outside, my mother walked out into the garage. In her hands were jars of canned fruits and vegetables, a set of batteries and flashlights, and an assortment of cloth and blankets. Underneath our garage lied an underground cellar made of stone and concrete. This was where my sister would hide for the time being.

  That afternoon, after a surge of riots and arrests were made back in town, my mother transferred more than half of our pantry supply to the cellar. It only meant one thing—time was dwindling.

  I glided through the hallway. My mother’s door remained wide open, exposing her newly made bed. Thoughts continued to race through me. I wished to forget the photos, the compass, and my father. But I couldn’t. My mind screamed like a siren, preparing me, my hunger for the past prompting me to tear up my room in search of clues that morning. I anticipated I’d at least uncover a hint that would explain his death, but I turned up short. The secret stayed hidden with my mother. It always had. Now, she acted like a mute, traumatized by the world. Lurching into her bedroom, I counted on my suspicions being wrong. It wasn’t my father in those pictures. Nor my mother. Nor me, or Evan. But there was only one way for me to find out for sure.

  As I pulled open the top drawer of her dresser, I spotted a small leather journal. Inside was a bundle of thoughts and moments weaved together into entries—a diary. I bit my lip as I spun around, making sure she hadn’t come back into the house, but the silence still lingered. Underneath it, a letter with a government seal shouted out at me, begging to be found. The floor creaked as I let the diary slip through my fingers back into the safety of the drawer. I huffed, squinting in curiosity as the theory of possibility stifled me. And when I unfolded the letter, it read

  “To the household of Mrs. Colleen and Ms. Aubrey Adams:

  Anyone with a last name ending in A through E should have received a letter from the U.T. Colonization Commission regarding colony qualification and selection. Once qualified, it is required by all citizens to undergo immediate health examination and testing procedure. This process is time-sensitive and is imperative to being assigned a colony. Without it, we have no choice but to disqualify anyone who has not undergone these examinations.

  Our records indicate you or a member of your household has qualified into the colony assignment selection. Please take immediate action to avoid further disqualification. Follow the instructions below for more information on the examination process.”

  In that moment of discovery, the paper glided out of my fingers, weaving through the air like a feather until it crashed beside my feet. And then it hit me—I qualified. But… my mother never showed me the notice.

  I heaved, my breathing speeding up at a rapid pace as the realization set in. And when I snatched the letter off the floor, something else caught my attention. I held my breath as the sight of it paralyzed me—a solid white pill dwelled on the floor just outside my mother’s bathroom, isolated between the dark cracks of the pale tile. Dread struck me, destroying my suspicion.

  Frustrate
d by her secrecy, I let out an impatient sigh, whipping the paper onto the dresser before charging into the bathroom. When I broke open the rusty lock to the medicine cabinet, what displayed before me brought tears to my eyes. Bottle upon bottle of pills lined the shelves, each label belonging to a different patient, including Charlie’s. Most were newly prescribed painkillers, others powerful anti-depressants, anxiety, and sleeping pill medication. It was enough to induce the entire town into a coma, and more than enough to be locked up for good if found during inspections.

  I put a trembling hand over my mouth, closing my eyes in disbelief. My mother’s stash signified her desperation. Terrified by it, I choked back my frustration over her stupidity. My hands shook as I slammed the cabinet shut, knocking a series of orange and white bottles into the sink as it bounced back open. But as I stomped back into the bedroom, something else caught my eye.

  The flap of my mother’s bed skirt hung uneven underneath the mattress, as if tucked upward in a hurry. Upon lifting it up, I uncovered two thick envelopes rested near the center. My pulse stopped as I glared upon the familiar seal, reading “The United Territories Colonization Commission.” The tops of both appeared as if they had been ripped open in a rush.

  My heartbeat pummeled in my throat, the blood raging through my head as I charged back into my room, swinging the door shut behind me as I pulled the letters out. Struggling to hold in the sobs and shrieks, I feared the words I was about to read.

  As I opened my mother’s letter, the expected words “Disqualified and Unassigned” were stamped in red lettering. Beside them, a red X. This justified the creases, crumples, and torn edges, even though she and I both knew of her disqualification months ago. Still, the sinking feeling was instantaneous. The tingling sweat hit my skin like pins and needles as I drowned in panic. Even though her disqualification was no surprise, nothing would take away the dull ache following those words. Our lives were always in the hands of government, but the reality we faced couldn’t be prepared for, no matter how long we still had.

  The air stabbed through my chest, the oxygen shooting through my lungs like a spear. My forehead pounded as my eyeballs flung across my letter. Then, my breathing stopped. “Qualified and Assigned—Colony 6” read at the top of my letter in bold, black ink. Below it, the fine print stood out. “Pending approval. Please go to your nearest health facility for examination processing and testing procedure.”

  I looked away, my eyes engulfed in tears, thinking about how this letter haunted me since the beginning. Now, here it was—my fate, stamped on a piece of paper, hidden from me. But my true fear was never dying—it was struggling to survive such an ordeal. Life in our time would always be more terrifying than the finale. Death became an escape—a metaphor for my need for solitude. And once again, my only choice was to abandon everything certain in front of me.

  “No…” I whispered to myself, forcing away the tears that kept coming. But before surrendering to the despair, something on the paper stopped me. Written on the letters were the names “Aubrey Rae Ellis” and “Abigail Jane Ellis.” My last name was different, but my mother’s was wrong altogether. Abigail. Memory of the penned words “To Abigail” came to mind as I recalled the envelope of photos I had found in my mother’s closet. Then the pictures. Confused, I confirmed the confidentiality stamp on the letter. Sure enough, everything else remained the same—the photo identification, the statistics. Then, the name struck me—Ellis. The year of the rumors. The whistleblower rumored to have exposed the discovery—Andrew Ellis. The conspiracy theories. The compass. The initials “A.R.E.” Aubrey Rae Ellis. Me.

  My face flushed ablaze, my blood boiling with dread as the room revolved around me. In my peripheral vision, black dots became a chronic warning. Hyperventilating now, I stumbled across the floor, launching myself forward just in the nick of time, crashing my head against the softness of the pillows.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Upon waking up, a faint, blurred outline of my mother emerged. She sat on the edge of the bed, waiting to comfort me.

  “You’re okay. You just passed out. Here, have something to drink,” she said, handing me a cup of water. But this time my memory didn’t fail me. I jolted my head around, curious whether she knew what I had found. Sure enough, her eyes warned me, gazing upon me in an ashamed manner. I lifted myself from the bed, wincing as she set the water down beside me.

  “Aubrey, we have to talk...”

  “You’re damn right we have to talk,” I said under my breath as I shifted position, hesitant to be near her. She swallowed. “Why did you hide those letters from me? Why are our names different? And the medication... You’re the one who took it from the hospital… What in the hell were you thinking, mom?” I lashed out.

  “The pills are for Andrea.” She glared at me on the verge of tears, heartbroken and desperate as her bottom lip shook. “I waited for the right moment to talk to you, but it just never came. And then the years went by… and I just couldn’t stand the thought of losing you…” She burst into a cry, leaning in to give me a hug. I cautiously denied returning it. After several sobs and sighs, my mother looked me in the eye.

  “Tell me what? That you’re not who you say you are? That you—you’ve been stealing from the hospital again? That I qualified into a colony? That my last name is Ellis?” I slammed in disgust.

  “Just listen to me!” She blinked in defeat. “Your father… was Andrew Henry Ellis,” she said with a sharp breath. My breathing intensified as I came upon the realization that everything leading up to this point had been one big cover-up. My eyes darted back and forth as I sat there, blindsided by fact and plagued with denial. “He was working for the Department of Defense when he found out the truth. When you were five years old, he was accused of leaking classified information from NASA to the same movement responsible for hacking the media and releasing their secrets to the public,” she said.

  “What?” I swallowed in disbelief, holding my breath.

  “NASA knew a long time ago, Aubrey. The government covered it up for decades, blaming it on climate change or whatever other bullshit they tricked us into believing. Your father realized informing the public was a risk our leaders didn’t want to take, so he took matters into his own hands.” My mother spoke with conviction, the wrath seeping through her words while grabbing onto my hand tighter than necessary. I winced, inhaling and exhaling deeply. “The government has been hunting him for over fifteen years for committing treason and violating top secret agreements. But your father did what he did for a reason, Aubrey.”

  “Then where—where is he?” I huffed in disbelief.

  “He escaped. He was never found,” she said. I swallowed back the pain. “The year he ran, I had to choose. Our connection to Andrew was dangerous. I was horrified of what they might do to him if they found him, or us. Understand, Aubrey, he had proof of this cataclysm. He was tied to the largest cover-up in U.S. history. But it wasn’t just a secret. Their knowledge became a weapon.”

  “What do you mean? How?” I huffed.

  “Instead of making preparations for the public, they did nothing, Aubrey. Your generation grew up ignorant of the crisis that was coming. They were going to let our people die,” she said, swallowing.

  “What?” I was mortified by what she told me.

  “Before he released the documents, Andrew arranged for our family to go into hiding. He told us that once the truth got out, things would get bad. He even prepared a cabin for us to stay in in the mountains to wait it out. After months of silence, I assumed he had been captured. I decided I couldn’t let you girls grow up in isolation. So I obtained new identities and never spoke of him again. After years of hiding, I realized moving us back here to Golden would be risky, but I needed closure. I had to figure out if Andrew left us a sign that would lead us back to him. I needed to know if—if he was still out there. But I realize it’s not that simple anymore,” she explained. And without a second thought, the compass came to mind. Now, I understood with a
bsolute certainty that it did belong to my father. That maybe he was alive. But I was too overwhelmed with shock to tell her.

  “So... you knew? And Andrea too? You knew the entire time and you said nothing?” I asked, blinking as I played catch up with the thoughts racing through my head.

  “I couldn’t risk you doing something stupid, Aubrey… Andrea found out when she was eighteen, before the collapse. Your father wanted to wait until you both were mature enough to understand how dire of a secret this was. To keep you hidden. At first Andrea thought I was going crazy. She didn’t believe me until the rumors came out. After that, she wanted nothing to do with me. She was scared, Aubrey. So she did exactly what you did. She ran.” My mother swallowed again.

  “So that’s why—that’s why you two were so distant…” I concluded in horror.

  “Yes…” My eyes flickered rapidly. “Look, I realize this is a lot for you to take in, Aubrey... but this place, this town used to be our home back when your father was still with us. Our whole family lived here when you were just a little girl. After our family found out what Andrew knew, most of them fled to go live off the grid in fear of global collapse. I never knew what happened to them, and it’s given me nightmares for years,” she said.

  “Wait… what do you mean we used to live here?” I asked, out of breath.

  “You were born here.”

  “But—”

  “Back in the day, Evan’s mother and I were neighbors. You were friends with Evan when you both were just four years old. He lived next door to us.” My eyes swelled at the sound of Evan’s name. I looked up at her, tears spewing like lava onto my bloodless cheeks.

  “Don’t...” I put one hand on my forehead in denial.

  “It’s true, Aubrey,” she said, pulling the picture I had folded into fours out of her hand to show me. I snapped it from her fingers. “When we moved back here with new identities, Evan’s father noticed a resemblance in you to Andrew. You always resembled him, but… there was no trace of our former identity, no way to prove it. I made sure of that. It wasn’t until the days leading up to Mark’s climbing accident that Evan’s mother Tracy grew more suspicious of you.” My head shot up in terror at her words. “You ending up with Evan again had me on edge. But to see you two together again… it gave me hope there’s more to life than this... that maybe they can’t take away what’s meant to be. Knowing how much he cared about you, I entrusted him with our secret after you left town,” she said, blinking.