Dissonance - Book One

twenty-nine

My eyelids flutter open to the sight of an IV stuck in my arm and monitors everywhere. I'm hooked up to several machines and one starts beeping, alerting my captures that I'm awake. That is, if they are in fact my captures. They might actually be my rescuers, but I haven't established that yet. I take a quick inventory of my surroundings. I'm not in a hospital, at least not in the traditional sense. This seems more like some sort of makeshift hospital, or perhaps a laboratory.

I see a blurry shape approach from the far end of the room. My eyes are still adjusting to my new reality. No doubt, the after effect of the anesthesia wearing off. My body has never handled pain meds well and I quickly sit up and turn to the side of the bed to vomit.

"You know, you're awfully cute even when you're sick," I hear a voice say. Joking at a time like this is such a Wyler thing to do.

"What?" I manage to get out as I wipe spit from my mouth with the back of my hand. I turn to the person sitting at the edge of my bed, expecting it to be Wyler, but it's not. It's Kelly. That's when I really see him for the first time. He has dirty blonde hair that's just slightly too long to pull back out of his face. He keeps trying to tuck loose strands of hair behind his ears but they fall repeatedly in front of his disturbingly beautiful green eyes. He reaches towards me and I flinch.

"Easy girl." A smile creeps out of the side of his mouth. "How many times do I have to tell you, I'm here to help."

He gently brushes the hair away from my face, takes a wet cloth and wipes a spot of vomit from the side of my mouth. I suddenly feel very self-conscious in front of this boy that I don't even know. I'm in a vulnerable position and I don't like feeling vulnerable, especially since I don't know if he is a friend or foe.

"Where's Wyler and Lex?" I ask, pushing him away as I try to sit further up in bed, but I'm overcome with dizziness and I fall back into Kelly's awaiting arms. He lays me tenderly against the pillows.

"You're not so good at taking directions, are you?"

"Not from people I don't know."

"But you do know me," he pauses for a minute to see how I'll react. When I don't say anything, he continues. "We met back at the 'I'm about to die of a gunshot wound or at the hands of government thugs' showdown. Remember?" he smirks.

"Ha ha," I reply in a sarcastic tone. "I know your name, but who are you? And where am I?"

"You're someplace safe," he says. "At least for now," he mumbles the last part under his breath as he turns and places the washcloth on the table next to me. He picks up a cup with a straw and brings it to my lips.

"Drink," he motions.

"How do I know you're not trying to poison me?"

"You don't," he raises one eyebrow and his green eyes twinkle in the light. I don't know yet if I can trust him, but my lips are chapped and my mouth is parched. I'm not sure if the drink will kill me, but I'm definitely dying of thirst. I eye him up and down, trying to gage his motives. He smiles, awaiting my decision. My gut is telling me he's not here to hurt me, at least not for now, so I slowly bring my lips to the straw and take a sip. It's water, or at least that's what it tastes like. My head is beginning to feel clearer and every minute I'm awake, I can feel myself regaining my wits.

"So you didn't answer my question. Who are you?"

"Ahh, the million dollar question." He sets the water back on the table. "Well, I guess you could say I belong to a branch of the government."

"Oh great," I roll my eyes. I thought we had gotten away from those government goons.

"It's not what you think. We're not like those other guys. We're a branch of the government that went rogue. Some people call us 'the Unwanteds' but to your friends Cavanaugh and Jacobs, we're known as 'Mods.'"

"They're not my friends and what do you mean, 'Mods?'"

"Genetically modified...like you."

"I'm sorry, what?" I shake my head in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"You really don't know anything, do you?" He shakes his head and chuckles. "I can't believe you've gone this long without knowing."

"Knowing what?" I ask, irritated by his condescending tone and also freaked out by the fact that he's referring to me as "genetically modified."

"You have no idea who you really are, do you?"

"I'm Everly Lewis, last time I checked."

"No, you're not. Your last name isn't Lewis...it's Attwood."