Chapter Twenty-Six
Gemma’s hands shook as they walked cautiously through rows of holding cells.
“Over there.” Christian pointed to where seven individuals huddled in the corner of a metal cage, varying from children to elderly.
They hurried to the cage, and Gemma’s skin crawled. Again, freeing them had been way too easy.
“I’m guessing because that door was barred, they didn’t assume they needed guards in here?” Gemma asked.
“Let’s hope it’s that simple,” Christian mumbled. He held the stolen access ring against the cell’s lock, and the door swung open.
A loud siren blared, and the red lights near the ceiling blazed brighter, flashing.
Christian swore, pressing his rifle against his shoulder and pointing the nose toward where the bounty hunters would come.
Gemma jumped inside the prison cell. All of the captives stared at her with wide eyes, their faces full of terror. She held up her hands. “I’m not here to hurt you. My friend and I are going to get you out of here.”
“Why should we trust you?” one of the middle-aged men quipped.
“What other choice do you have? I’m telling you the truth, but you have to know that if you stay here, you’re going to die.”
The man pressed his lips together and glanced at the ground in front of him.
“Come on, Gemma. We don’t have much time,” Christian muttered from behind her.
“Please,” Gemma begged the captives. “I’m a doctor, and I’ll treat all your wounds once we get out of here, okay? Just, please come with me. They’re going to be here any second.”
They finally began to step toward her. Gemma sighed in relief and, one by one, ushered them from the cage.
“Out the other side.” Christian pointed to the opposite side of the room from where they’d entered. “There’s a false wall near the north corner, like the one in Zion. Reach behind the panel, and it’ll pop loose.”
Gunshots roared from seemingly every direction. Gemma ducked, the captives screaming as they ran toward the wall that would lead them to freedom.
“Get them!” a bounty hunter shouted. “They’re freeing the prisoners!”
White, hot pain exploded in Gemma’s shoulder, her shout echoing with the gunshot. She pressed her fingers against the searing pain, and when she pulled them away, they were coated with blood.
“Go!” Christian pushed Gemma toward the false wall. “Get out of here. I’ll hold them off.” Shots popped from his rifle as he backstepped toward the exit.
Gemma rushed ahead and tore off the section of wall that led to a dark tunnel, grinding her teeth at the nauseating pain in her shoulder.
She waved the captives forward. “Go—run! I’m right behind you.”
Christian yelped.
Gemma spun around. Christian was down on a knee, facing an onslaught of bounty hunters.
Her stomach flopped to her feet. If there were this many, Colton and Imara must not have made it to the mess hall.
They weren’t going to get the captives out alive. Even though the prisoners had made it into the tunnel, it would only be a matter of time before they were chased down.
Still, they had to try.
“Christian, let’s go!” Gemma shouted.
“I told you to get out of here!” he yelled back, locking his gaze with hers, something ravenous flashing deep within them. “Now, go!”
From his vest, Christian pulled the bomb he’d taken from Colton. He flicked off a piece of the translucent orb then pushed himself off the ground, barreling toward the bounty hunters.
No.
Gemma’s throat tightened as she forced herself to sprint as hard as she could into the tunnel.
A loud boom shook every molecule of the world around her—Gemma’s legs gave out. She crashed to the ground, screaming when her injured shoulder hit the hard surface. Dust and small debris rained from the ceiling of the tunnel as a lump lodged in her throat.
She knew so much death: her parents, her sister, Moriah. She’d watched as Hawk’s head exploded, as a wall painted with the brains of a bounty hunter. Speckles of dried blood still clung to her face from a man who could’ve killed her—or worse.
And now, she’d run as Christian died. His death might have been simulated, but her heart couldn’t tell the difference.
Gemma’s breaths came too shallow and fast. She leaned against the wall of the tunnel and placed a quivering hand on her chest. Loud exhales left her, mingled with whimpers of fear, regret, sorrow, terror.
Her heartbeat pounded in her spine, the left side of her chest pinching as she breathed through clenched teeth. Her head hurt; the world spun; she couldn’t feel her legs.
Gemma closed her eyes and pictured Nadine’s gentle hand on her cheek.
“Deep breaths, Gemstone. In and out, nice and slow, like Mom taught us.”
Gemma repeated Nadine’s words in her head until her senses began to clear. I can do this. I can do this. She stood and hurried to where the captives waited.
As a group, they exited the building. Gemma gasped fresh air for the first time in what felt like days. A second later, a high-pitched whistle told her that she was being sucked back to reality.
Gemma lay in her sleep chamber with her arms over her eyes for moments after returning to Zion. A loud cheer rang outside the near-soundproof glass of her compartment—they passed their Oranos Trials.
They won.
None of them would ever have to return to Perileos.
So, why did Gemma’s heart feel so heavy?
It wasn’t until Imara asked everyone where she was that Gemma bothered to leave the isolation of her chamber.
She could’ve lain there for hours, trying to stuff down the memories, the loss, the agony, the lingering heartache that ceased to go away no matter how much she breathed or how hard she tried to make herself happy.
Death reopened festering wounds to those left behind, and today’s simulation was a reminder of how much Gemma had loved—and how much she had lost.
Christian closed the distance between them in a second, his face lined with worry.
Gemma’s nostrils flared as she pushed him away from her, hard. “Don’t you ever do that in real life. Do you hear me?”
He grimaced, his brows furrowing. He reached for her again. “Gemma—”
“Don’t.” She swatted his arm away and held a hand between them. “Just don’t.”
Gemma spun on her heels and marched for the door, her eyes burning. She knew she was being harsh, but she couldn’t help it.
If the simulation had done anything, it reminded her that pushing him away now was better than letting him burrow any deeper into her soul.
“Let her go,” Imara gently said to Christian before Gemma threw open the door and left them staring after her.
By the time she reached the ladies’ locker room, Gemma’s throat was clamped. Her chest ached like Reva’s gravity pressed upon her, and she sucked in deep, agonizing breaths, tears rolling down her cheek.
It didn’t bring her any joy to hurt Christian.
In fact, she was convinced it probably hurt her more.
But she had to do this to protect herself.
What she went through after losing Nadine was worse than anything she’d ever experienced in her life.
She’d rather have been run over by one of Perileos’ trams.
She couldn’t open herself up to being destroyed like that again.
The door to the locker room opened, and Imara barged inside. “So, I’m assuming you probably want to be left alone, but I’ve decided I’m not going to let you.”
Gemma shook her head. “Please . . . I really need you to go.”
Imara shrugged. “Tough.” She plopped down on one of the benches and crossed her long legs, wiggling the one on top. Her head tilted as she stared at Gemma through narrowed eyes.
Gemma didn’t have to be as good as Imara at reading people to understand her friend was waiting for Gemma to unload.
Before the Trials, Imara had wanted nothing to do with Gemma. In fact, she’d been downright cold and rude. Why couldn’t she be that person again? It would make it a lot easier for Gemma to return to the recluse she’d been for the past three years.
Imara raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.
Gemma rolled her eyes, flinging her arms out to her sides. “What do you want me to say?”
“It was impressive magic what you did there—going in as one version of Gemma and coming out as another.”
Gemma scoffed and turned to walk away.
Imara sighed, gently grabbing Gemma’s wrist. “Look, I know we aren’t, like, best friends or anything.
But how about I give you some advice? Don’t push away the people who care about you, because if you think the hardest thing in the world is to watch them leave, you’re wrong.
The most excruciating misery in all the universes is the loneliness they leave behind.
Spend every moment you can with them while you still have them, because the memories are what will keep you alive. Trust me.”
Gemma’s chin trembled. Loneliness was what had made her steal the drugs from the infirmary to try to silence the agony in her soul.
Yet wasn’t it because of her memories of Nadine that she was here in the first place?
Avenging her sister is what gave her purpose.
Without those memories, she would be wandering aimlessly in the world.
Or not here at all.
Gemma shook her head to clear her emotions, facing Imara. “What happened to the guy they found in your bed? That’s who you’re talking about missing, isn’t it? That test didn’t share our deepest secret. It shared our most painful memory.”
Imara’s gaze turned sad. “He was murdered. Just . . . not by me. At least, not intentionally.”
Gemma sat across from her, folding her hands together.
Imara huffed. “You know, you’re the only person I’m ever going to tell the actual truth to.”
When Gemma kept quiet, Imara took a deep breath.
“His name was Jeramy,” she started, “and he was the only man I’ve ever actually loved.
I used to run ‘errands’ for clients and my mom’s club, and Jeramy was one of my clients.
” She paused, her eyes glossing over. “I used to do snatch-and-grab jobs for him.
I was really good at it too. Being able to read people made it easy to spot the milksops.
“Except, one of these milksops happened to be the wife of a really powerful person in Perileos. He tracked me down, killed Jeramy while he slept next to me, and told me I’d be dead too if my mom hadn’t been one of his biggest clients.”
Gemma pressed a hand to her stomach, her eyes burning. “I’m . . . so sorry. I can’t even imagine.”
Imara wiped a rogue tear from her cheek. “It was, without a doubt, the worst day of my life. What I see growing between you and Christian reminds me so much of what it was like with Jeramy in the early days.
“I know you’ve been through a lot. I remember what came up in the test for you too. But believe me when I say that if I could have one more day—one more day—with Jeramy, I’d give up my soul.” Her voice cracked, and Gemma grabbed her hand.
She understood now why Imara never took anything seriously and slept with random men—her heart was shattered. But, unlike Gemma, she’d tried to glue it back together with humor and sex, while Gemma had put up walls.
It wasn’t until meeting Imara that Gemma had found a friend.
Colton had saved her life at the beginning of the Trials and had stood up for her against Alfie.
Hawk was genuine and funny and had been nothing but kind.
And the Dissent may have taught her how to stay alive, but it wasn’t until meeting Christian that she’d remembered how to live.
Three years ago, she’d waved goodbye to the one person she cared about and never saw her again. She wouldn’t do that a second time. These were her people now. She didn’t have to be alone anymore. Her pain could end, if she would just let it.
“You gonna go talk to him?” Imara asked, and Gemma nodded. “Good. Now, shower and freshen up ‘cause you look terrible.”
Gemma snorted and squeezed her friend’s hand.