No one said much to each other the day after Micah was expelled from the nest. Everyone was walking around on eggshells and giving the cameras wary glances while trying to pretend that nothing was wrong.
Olivia didn’t know what to do. Like Micah, she had been convinced that the information Jade had found hidden in her room was false, but now that he was gone and there was no way to know what he had found on the other side—or what had really happened to him at all—she didn’t know what to think. She hoped he was okay, but she had no way to know regardless. She had to rely on the correspondence drops for information and there was no way that she could attempt another break out.
The only thing she could do was wait for a sign and hope that everything remained stable until then. Maybe Micah would find a way to send them a message. In the meantime, she needed to keep her eyes and ears open and try to keep the others from turning on each other in their frustration. She was nervous about the promise to share more information about why they were all in the nest because she suspected this information could only serve to divide them further.
Just as she was thinking about this, the delivery chime sounded on the door and the light on the correspondence slot lit up. Looking around, she confirmed that she was the only one close enough to hear the delivery. Lifting the slat, she reached into the compartment and felt around for the delivery. She found a sealed number ten envelope with her name typed on the front.
Tucking it into one of the books she had been looking at, she returned her attention to the shelf when she heard footsteps approaching. To pass the time, she had started to catalogue their library of books, surprised to find that she didn’t recognize any of the titles or authors. She supposed it could have been yet another manifestation of her missing memories, but she had a hard time believing that she would forget that much when she remembered so many other strange facts and details about the world. Books seemed to be a subject of great interest for her as well based on the memories she kept recalling about stories she’d read, so she found it especially strange that she wouldn’t at least have a passing familiarity with any of the volumes.
“Was that the correspondence slot?” Ethan asked, joining her in the room.
“What?” she asked casually, uncertain why she was hiding the truth but unable to bring herself to come clean either.
Frowning, he looked at the door. “I thought I heard the delivery sound.”
“I didn’t hear anything,” she lied, keeping it simple since she suspected she wasn’t a particularly good liar.
Whether he believed her or not, he didn’t seem to trust her response because he walked over to the door and poked around in the delivery slot for a minute before sighing and stepping back with a shrug. “I really thought I heard it. Weird.”
“Maybe you’re just hoping you’ll hear it,” Olivia suggested, hugging the book and its hidden envelope to her chest. “They did promise us more information.”
“Yeah. I’m not sure I really want to know what that means. Not after what they did to Micah.”
Considering her response thoughtfully, she said, “We don’t know what they did to Micah, really. All we know is that he’s gone.”
Giving her a sour look, he shook his head. “I can make a pretty good guess. And I don’t like it.”
“He violated the rules.” Olivia wasn’t sure why she was defending their overseers’ actions. She felt the same way as Ethan. But playing devil’s advocate seemed to come naturally to her.
“Half of us violated the rules right along with him. But you’re still here. And Zoe. Why did they only take him?”
“Because he was the one who opened the door? Or because it was his idea?” She sighed. “I don’t know, Ethan. All I know is that we have to hope for the best and not push our luck.”
His eyes narrowed at her, and she noticed that his dark eyes were pretty intimidating when he had that determined furrow in his brows. “I would have expected you to fight harder. But you’re just giving up.”
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Surprised by the comment, Olivia loosened her grip on the book and almost allowed the envelope to slip from between the pages. Catching it quickly and adjusting the book under her arm, she said, “I don’t know why you expect anything in particular from me. We hardly know each other.”
“I’m good at reading people,” he replied, lifting his chin with an air of arrogance that rubbed her the wrong way. “And you are lying to yourself right now if you really believe that we should just give up after what Micah sacrificed.
She watched his broad back as he walked away, startled again by his vehemence. And what did he mean by referring to Micah’ departure as a sacrifice? What did he think had happened to Micah?
Shaking the thought away, she decided to retreat to her room before she opened the envelope so that she didn’t caught by any other curious people before she’d had a chance to digest the contents. Closing the door behind her, she crossed to the bed and sat down on cautiously on the edge as if she expected it to attack her. Taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the camera’s steady eye, she ripped open the bulky envelope and scattered the contents over her bed.
She found a folded letter, an ID card and a handful of photo booth portraits. She looked at the ID card first and found her name and address on the front. It was a driver’s license. She was 30 years old and had signed up to be an organ donor. Her portrait was horrible, the garish green backdrop making her hair and skin look radioactive and her expression was halfway between a smile and grimace as if the photographer at the DMV had made a tasteless joke before taking the photo.
Setting the ID aside, she reached for the letter next. It was a letter from a Doctor Warez according to the signature line. It described her latest test results in horrific detail, explaining that the symptoms would recede for a time, but that the cancer would return. I had spread throughout her body and they had already tried the strongest forms of radiation and chemotherapy to little result. She had six months to live, give or take.
Hands shaking as she finished the letter, which had been written with far less casual language, the wording painfully objective and cold, she wondered why a doctor would commit this sort of news to her in writing. Why not in person? Did he have the worst possible bedside manner in the world? Or had she been unavailable for an in person appointment or even a phone call. Biting her lower lip and trying to catch her breath, she felt little phantom pains all over her body, as if she could feel the cancer growing right this moment. And then she remembered the medical deliveries. How her collection of pills had been bigger than everyone else’s.
When she had gathered herself, she noticed that there was another letter beneath the first, this one inscribed with the same logo as her clothing and bore the New Life Institute address—somewhere in the Caribbean it appeared.
Ms. Martin,
We have reviewed your application for inclusion in our next bunker project and after a thorough review of your medical records as well as the enclosed communication from your doctor, we have decided to include you in the project pending a thorough review of your condition. Congratulations!
Please schedule a visit to our headquarters within the next two weeks to undergo your physical examination. Given your prognosis, we will need to make modifications to our typical procedures to ensure that the symptoms of your condition do not interfere with your new life in the nest. We will do everything in our power to give you a carefree and restful six months of life without fear or pain.
Most sincerely,
Dr. Amos Garner, MD
New Life Industries Director
Unable to control the shaking in her hands, Olivia let the paper fall to the bed, only remembering the photos when she dabbed at the tears in her eyes and saw the little strip laying on the bed next to the papers. Reaching for the photos, she peered at the faces in the frames with blurry eyes, seeing her own face looking back at her with a ghostly grin and bruised eyes. Her head was bald and she’d placed a tiny hat on top as if it were a hilarious joke. The hat must have been one of the props for the photo booth because her companion in the photo was wearing an equally ridiculous blue feather boa. The woman was making the most ridiculous faces so Olivia did not immediately recognize Jade until she saw her smiling more normally in the final frame.
So she and Jade had known each other before. They’d been friends, judging by the comfort level between them in the photos. Had Jade known she was dying? Was that why she’d joined her in the nest? To look after her and enjoy the time they had left? But Jade had no memory of who they were either, so how could she know if they would even become friends again in these strange circumstances?
The thoughts came fast and furious and made her dizzy with their speed. Closing her eyes and kicking the items off the bed in frustration, she rolled on her side and drew her knees to her chest in a fetal ball. She didn’t want to die. If she had been so adamant about not remembering this fact that she would pay a company to remove her memories to hide it from her, why had they shared this information now? Could this be undone? Or would she ask for it all over again if they agreed to take away her memory of this horrible reality?
The tears were coming fast now and rolling down her cheeks in hot tracks, but she didn’t care. She didn’t know how to cope with this information. She simply couldn’t contain it and move on.
