Chapter Thirty-Five

Caleb

Perfecta found me as I was wandering back into the main building, my head lost in a flurry of confused emotions. She caught me by the arm, pulling me back just before I mounted the stairs that led to the second floor.

"You need to come with me," she hissed scathingly.

Narrowing my eyes, I wrenched my arm away. I thought of what Miracle had said, and suddenly, Perfecta's determined expression seemed dangerous. Its ferocity made me back away without thinking about it, my arms easing in front of me as if to ward her off.

"Get away from me," I snarled in response, stopping a good distance away and crossing her arms. Perfecta's eyes flashed with anger for a split second, before realization dawned in them and her features softened into a gentler expression.

"I don't know what Miracle told you about me," she said, "but I can tell you for certain that she's lying. Come with me and we'll talk."

She held out her hand, and I stared at it in horror. If Miracle was correct, then following Perfecta would only bring me harm. She would fill my head with more lies, turning me against the only person in the Capitol who really seemed to care for me.

Miracle.

Seeing my trepidation, Perfecta sighed. "Caleb, please. At least give me the benefit of the doubt. I promise that if after what I'm about to show you, you're still distrustful of me, you can walk away and never have to see me again."

"You promise," I echoed dubiously.

She leaned toward me and lowered her voice. "I swear."

After a moment of hesitation, I shuffled toward her. "Fine," I muttered, glancing around warily. "Let's go."

Nodding approvingly, she led me to a staircase, which we descended quickly. Three levels later, we reached the bottom, and I realized that we were in a dark underground passageway, lit dimly with small lanterns but ultimately extending into blackness.

Perfecta led me through a series of tunnels, which wound beneath the building in a snakelike fashion. Every now and then, I'd see a shrouded doorway leading into darkness, but we hurried past them too quickly for me to see inside. Eventually, Perfecta stopped in front of a large metal door and pressed a button beside it. When it slid open, she slipped inside, beckoning for me to follow her.

"Where are we?" I questioned in a wary whisper. The room was pitch black, and no amount of blinking could make my eyes adjust to the darkness. Perfecta didn't answer, but a moment later, a set of lights sputtered on above my head. When the glare faded away, I saw her looking at me seriously. Without speaking, she gestured further into the room. I turned my head, viewing my surroundings for the first time, and gasped in utter horror.

○●○●○●○

I returned to the second floor about fifteen minutes later, lost in a shaken daze and still reeling from what Perfecta had just shown me. She'd left me at the top of the stairs, telling me that Nessa would see me later, and to play it cool around Charisma and Champion. I'd nodded emptily, but couldn't seem to form words to respond.

As I trudged down the hall, I had nothing in mind to do other than sleep for the rest of the day. It was hard to believe that I'd woken up less than and hour before, and that we'd spent so little time in the tunnels. That short quarter of an hour felt like an eternity.

But the second I opened the door to my suite, I was greeted with the tense faces of Charisma and Champion. When they recognized me, their expressions melted into tight smiles that didn't reach their eyes.

"Caleb!" Charisma greeted, her teeth clenched. "There you are! We were looking for you."

"Yes, we were," Champion—Christopher—seconded. "Where were you, out of curiosity?"

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I was panicking for an answer, but a lie came to my lips without being prompted.

"I was in the Kennedy Garden," I said smoothly. "It's lovely, isn't it?" For good measure, I added an easy smile.

Both Superiors relaxed immediately. "It is," Charisma agreed, relief etched across her flawless features. "I'm glad you're getting a feel of the place again. But for now, why don't you stick with us?"

Biting back a snide comment, I said, "Sure, why not!"

I spent the rest of the day with the pair, walking through the residential building and chatting with the other Superiors who lived there. I found that it was surprisingly easy to remember all their names; of course, that could just be due to the fact that there was plenty of memory space in my newly cleared brain.

The hours past quickly, everything blurring together with endless tidbits of laughter and conversation. I smiled my way through all the socializing, while in the back of my mind, my thoughts were a mess of confusion, disbelief, and fear. Opposing emotions fought for control, pinching and pulling and ripping my brain to shreds. By the time dinner rolled around, I was a mental wreck.

Champion tried to strike up a discussion over chicken casserole, but I just picked at my food and nodded. Many of the other Superiors joined in, joking and arguing. While I was still stricken with terror at what I had seen in the tunnels, I couldn't help but notice how normal the Superiors were. Of course, I had very little knowledge of what 'normal' was, but the heartless creatures that had been described to me were nothing like these people. Could it all be an act, just to win me over? Or were Perfecta and Nessa perhaps mistaken in their perceptions of the Superiors?

It was too much to think about.

I retired early, excusing myself to be alone with my thoughts. Champion and Charisma immediately volunteered to accompany me, but I politely declined. The last thing I needed was their persuasion to confound me even more.

As I closed the dining hall door behind me, it took all I had not to sink into the ground and fall asleep right there. According to Nessa, the alterations Leary had performed on me had enhanced my strength, stamina, and mental capacity. But if that was the case, why did I feel like I would drop dead at any second?

Sighing, I began the short trek down the hall that suddenly felt like a hundred miles. But as I reached the center hall, I saw a flash of pinstriped fabric out of the corner of my eye, turning into the small corridor that led to an elevator and back staircase. The figure disappeared into the elevator a moment later, but not before I caught sight of the dark skin and wavy black hair that couldn't be anyone but Perfecta.

After throwing a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure that no one was watching, I slipped into the little hall just in time to see that the elevator was headed downward. Every ounce of tiredness fled from my body as I hurried down the stairs two at a time, taking care to keep my steps light and silent. The elevator dinged just as I reached the bottom step. Quietly, I peeked around the corner and saw Nessa stepping into the elevator as well, her eyes darting around carefully. Then the doors closed, and the car began its downward plunge once again.

I don't know why I followed them. Honestly, I'd probably had enough shocks for one day. But something about their secretive attitudes made me speed down the stairs after them, pausing twice until I heard the elevator's telltale chime and the muffled sound of their footsteps.

We had emerged into a part of the building that was unfamiliar to me, though it bore some resemblance to the tunnels Perfecta and I had seen earlier that day. The only difference was that they were brighter and cleaner.

I trailed them at a safe distance, stopping every now and then to dart behind a wall. It felt ridiculous, but something told me that I couldn't let them catch me following them. After a minute, both women paused in front of small door with an old-fashioned key lock. It seemed to be open, though, because Nessa turned the handle with ease. After casting a subtle glance in each direction, as if waiting to cross a street, she stepped inside, Perfecta at her heels. The door stayed open for approximately seven seconds, during which time I managed to dive out from my hiding place around the corner and roll into the room without making a sound.

Immediately upon entering, I realized that the women had disappeared into the shadows of the room, that of which were numerous. The only light came from a flickering bulb suspended from the ceiling by a frayed rope. It illuminated a small circle of floor, but could not penetrate the surrounding darkness.

For that, I was thankful, because it allowed me to creep through the room without being noticed. It meant that I couldn't see Nessa and Perfecta, but it also meant that they couldn't see me. I kept to the wall for a while—until the wall disappeared. Biting back a curse, I pitched forward abruptly, only just managing to catch myself with my heightened reflexes. It was still dark, but I figured that I was in another corridor adjoining the room we were in.

Two lights snapped on just then, one at a time. They lit only part of the room with their faint light, leaving the rest of the space in darkness. I crouched in my little hallway, trying to make myself as small as possible.

"Did you hear that?" Perfecta demanded suddenly, her hand on a light switch.

Nessa wrinkled her nose. "Hear what?"

"That thud."

Shaking her head, Nessa sighed. "You're hearing things. Now, come on, we need to hurry."

"Right. Let's get begin, shall we?"

She tapped the light switch again, illuminating a wall several feet away from her. My mind gasped, terrified for the umpteenth time that day, but my body was still, taking in the horrible sight before me.

Another woman was propped up against the wall, her arms chained together above her head and her ankles shackled to the ground. A red stain covered the front of her shirt, dying the yellow fabric a sickly orange. Her arms were crossed with long, bloody scratches, and one of her legs was bent at an awkward angle. With the way her head was tucked into her chest, I couldn't see her face; nor could I tell whether she was alive or dead.

Perfecta crossed the room, her glossy black hair swishing with each step, and squatted beside the broken woman. "Myra? How are you?" She spoke in a gentle tone, but her face was alight with morbid fascination as she observed the prisoner's wounds.

And all of a sudden, Myra, the prisoner, moved. She lifted her head so slowly that it looked like it weighed a thousand pounds, and her entire body quivered with the effort.

This time, I couldn't help but gasp aloud at the sight of the woman's face. It was mutilated by bruises, some deep purple, others a vomit-like green. An uneven gash was etched along her cheek, and looked to be infected. The tips of her short dark hair were stained crimson. All together, these disfigurements made her look like some kind of deformed rag doll from a horror movie.

As her swollen lips struggled to form words, a shudder ran through her battered body.

"Why are you here?" Myra croaked, her voice barely audible. A trickle of blood ran down the corner of her mouth, but she was helpless to wipe it away.

"We need discuss a few things with you," Perfecta stated, her eyes trained on Myra's face.

Myra emitted a strangled sound that resembled laughter. "If this is going to be anything like Miracle's discussions, I'll pass."

Now Nessa crouched next to Myra, her short hair falling into her face. "I promise, Myra, that we will not hurt you. Miracle is cruel, and we are not her."

Myra's eyes lost focus, and for a moment I could have sworn that they flashed to the shadows where I hid. Then she looked back to Perfecta and Nessa, frowning slightly.

"She wanted information," she whispered, "about the Pro-Inferiors. I didn't have any, and she thought I was lying, so she...so she..." Her voice trailed off, her wounds speaking for themselves.

"We know," Nessa said, her eyes brimming with sympathy. "But we can help you. All you need to do is pay us a favor in return."

Myra heaved a weak sigh. "You told me your plan already, Nessa. And I already said that I'm not helping you. It's not worth your time to even bother."

"It's nothing terrible," Perfecta said, shaking her head.

Myra's upper lip curled into a bloody sneer. "You want to parade me around like a circus animal, showing off my wounds as if I'm just a museum display." Her eyes flashed. "I'm human, Perfecta. Human. Unlike you," she finished quietly.

That must have struck a cord in Perfecta, because she quickly looked away, her eyes pooling with uncharacteristic hurt.

"Myra, we need you," Nessa insisted genuinely. "If the Pro-Inferiors are to truly succeed in a revolt, your help will be needed."

"You'll figure it out."

Perfecta's eyes flashed with fury. "We're trying to help you, you ingrate! Just give us a damned yes and we'll leave you alone!"

The chained woman looked up very, very slowly, her eyes suddenly crystal clear. "I have been kidnapped, beaten, and held against my will," she stated coldly. "For the past week, I have had absolutely no say in what I do. But I will regain my independence, even if only by refusing an offer that I know will fail in the end."

There is silence for a long moment as the three women stared at each other, each one wearing a blank, yet hostile expression. Finally, Nessa takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Myra," she says quietly, "especially since we've already enlisted the help of all four of your students. We'll be back again tomorrow, in case you change your mind. And just remember that if you do not agree to assist us, we will not be obligated to put you under our protection."

"I'll survive," Myra hissed.

"That's what you think," Perfecta snarled, "but you'll come around, when you realize how hopeless this is."

"Hopeless?" Myra laughed dryly. "Hopeless is the idealistic dream you have of a perfect government. The Superiors had the same goal, and how did they turn out? This is just going to end up in a never-ending cycle; we'll never escape it."

At that, Perfecta made an angry noise in the back of her throat and simply stalked out of the room, not waiting for her partner to follow. Still kneeling, Nessa looked back to Myra, her expression hard.

"This is going to work, Myra," she promised quietly. "And when it does, you'll be sorry that you ever doubted us." Without another word, Nessa rose to her feet with a curt nod, and for a split second, paused to look into the shadows before turning and leaving the way she had come.

○●○●○●○

Once I was certain that they were both gone, I quietly peeled myself from the darkness and took a few careful steps into the dim light. The woman, Myra, was sitting with her chin lolling against her collarbone, so still that, if I hadn't heard her speak only moments before, I would have thought that she was dead.

With some trepidation, I eased forward, sinking into a low crouch a few feet away from the prisoner. I didn't make a sound, and she didn't look up. For a few moments I simply stayed there, examining the woman, trying to figure out why it felt like she should be familiar. But as it was, I was too distracted by her ruined state to do much thinking.

Pressing my lips together, I coughed quietly, just enough to be heard by her. After a pause, her head lifted, slowly. Her swollen eyes glanced over me at first, then suddenly snapped back to my face, widening.

"Caleb," she murmured.

I jump back immediately, my eyes widening. She said my name. My name. As if she knew who I was. As if we'd met before. I stared at the woman before me, wondering just who she was.

"Oh, god, they got you," she breathed, tears rising to her eyes.

I sputtered uselessly for a moment before choking out a question. "I—I don't understand," I whispered. "Who are you? What's going on?"

She looked confused for a second, then her expression changed to one of realization.

"I'm Ms. Shea," she explained gently. "Back when—well, before all this, I was your art teacher. Of course, with all they've done to you, you wouldn't remember."

"Then why are you here?" I questioned, frowning. "And...and what happened to you?"

Ms. Shea sighed. "I used to be affiliated with the Pro-Inferiors. At one of their recent meetings, I was captured, and Miracle has been trying to get information out of me since I arrived. As you can see, her tactics are a little bit—ah—violent," she muttered, barking a dry laugh.

One word in particular stood out to me. "You used to work with them?"

"Yes," she replied, without hesitation. "Used to. For years I was dedicated to their cause, and to the people themselves. But after a while, I began to notice faults in their system. Did you know that Fairleigh, the head of the Pro-Inferiors, carries tracking devices with him at some of the meetings? He purposely gives away the locations to the government, just to scare his followers when the Superiors attack."

"I don't know who Fairleigh is," I said quietly.

"He's a rat," Ms. Shea snarled hoarsely. "I'd almost dare to say that he's as bad as the Superiors. And Perfecta and Nessa are tied up in his little web. I don't know if they realize his true need for vengeance, but I do. And I refuse to be a part of their plan."

"I..." I let my mouth fall open slowly, not quite sure what to say. I hadn't asked for her thoughts on the Pro-Inferiors, yet here she was, spewing out heinous comments about their leader. "Why did you tell me that?" I asked finally.

Ms. Shea's eyes had fallen shut, and for a moment I thought she had fallen asleep. Then, in a ragged hiss, she whispered, "I want you to know who you're dealing with before you decide to trust them so wholeheartedly."

I blinked. "If I don't trust them, then who am I supposed to trust?"

"Yourself."

I stared at the woman for a long moment, trying to remember her as she used to be. But the dark purple bruises, jagged, festering gashes, and dried blood only served to make me sick.

"You're an anarchist," I said finally. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm not an anarchist, Caleb, I'm a realist. I know that the perfect government Fairleigh craves is unattainable. Nessa, Perfecta, and Fairleigh are just full of hatred; they would destroy the Superiors with their bare hands, if they could. Now, don't get me wrong; I'm not a fan of the way the Superiors run the government. But are they really so bad?"

"I've seen what Leary does, Ms. Shea." I looked down at my hands. "Down in his lab. I've seen what he does. The Superiors aren't good."

"I didn't say they were good. But I don't think they're bad enough that we need to kill them all."

For a long moment I just stare at her, feeling cold. Then I jumped to my feet, holding up my hands, and began backing out of the room.

"Going so soon?" Ms. Shea asked dryly.

"Nessa didn't say anything about killing," I said. "You don't know her; you don't know them."

"Oh, and you do? You don't even know what their plan is."

I stumbled back a bit further. "They're going to fix things. The Pro-Inferiors are going to fix things."

"That's what Nessa says. That's probably what she told Delaney, too."

At that, I froze, my mouth falling open. "I don't know anyone named Delaney," I breathed.

The woman snorted. "And who told you that, Nessa? I said you can't trust her."

"I—I don't..." Shaking my head in disbelief, I turned away from her battered body and out of the room.

Ms. Shea laughed behind me, a hoarse, painful chuckle. "Good luck with your rebellion, Caleb. I hope you're happy with the choices you've made."

I took the stairs four at a time, emerging back on the second floor in less than a minute, barely out of breath. There were no sounds of chatter coming from the dining hall; everyone appeared to have gone back to their suites.

By then, I was completely numb. If my head had been spinning before, well, now it was a tornado. I was sorely regretting my decision to follow Perfecta; I had been confused enough as it was. My eyes were falling shut as I trudged down the hall, headed back to my room. But about twenty feet away from the precious sanctuary, someone suddenly stepped out from a doorway and into my path. I froze in an instant, avoiding collision by a millimeter.

"Your reflexes are very good," a voice murmured, and I recognized it as Leary. I looked up slowly, straight into the hard eyes of the doctor. He stared back at me, unblinking.

"What were you doing?" he demanded softly. "Where were you?"

"I—I was just in the Rose Garden," I lied quickly, hoping my fear didn't show on my face. After what I'd seen in Leary's laboratory, I wanted to stay as far from the man as possible.

"The Rose Garden." Leary laughed a little. "Funny: I was just there, and I don't believe I saw you."

I took a step back and ran a hand through my hair, chuckling nervously.

"We must have just missed each other," I said.

"Yes," Leary drawled thoughtfully, prolonging the short syllable. "We must have."

Then, nodding to himself in a hazy, absent way, he continued past me, walking down the hall. After a heartbeat of hesitation, I continued forward as well. About ten steps later, though, Leary's voice froze me once again.

"By the way," he called, "I suggest that you not let me find you like this again." There was a sinister pause. Then, cheerily, "Goodnight, Caleb!"

My heart in my throat, I walked a little faster.

A/N: Meh, I was watching War of the Worlds while watching the end of this, so... it might be a little weird. And tell me about any grammar mistakes; I only got to skim through because it's midnight and any second now my mom will come in to yell at me to sleep.

I feel like this chapter is rushed... :/.