Page 31 of Anarchy Chained: Alpha Thomas

CHAPTER TEN - SADIE

I only know a few things to be true at this point.

First, I came from Prodigy School. I feel this. The name means something to me. Obviously, Thomas came from there too, which makes us… somewhat similar. He wasn’t lying about that stuff. I really do believe I was sent to kill him.

Second, I’m an illusionist. Which makes me… abnormal. But I don’t seem bothered by it.

Third, I feel calm. It’s weird because there is some kind of cell or muscle memory inside me that knows… I’m not usually a calm person.

This is the part that’s bothering me. Because I get the feeling that Thomas isn’t normally this calm either.

There’s a dark side to us both.

And then the memory of the nightmare is back. His lips on my lips. His hand on my hip. How it slipped between my legs and made me wet—

“Are you getting out of the car?”

I look up and find Thomas standing at my side, the passenger door open, two thick brown paper bags in his arms filled with our food.

“Yes,” I say, letting the dark side drift away as I step out of the car, grab the bags of clothes, bump the door closed with my hip, and follow him down the long, dark hallway to the bunker entrance.

That’s what this is. A bunker. Real end-of-the-world type stuff.

“Do you think something bad is going to happen?” I ask, following Thomas into the corner of the large open room that acts like a kitchen. There’s one long counter, a cooktop stove, and a refrigerator. It’s all new, but nothing matches. Like he pieced this place together from leftovers.

He empties the two large bags and puts things away. “I’ve never done this before,” I say, mostly to myself.

“How do you know?” Thomas asks, not looking at me.

“I just know.”

“Are your memories coming back?”

“No.”

I catch him looking at me from the corner of his eye. I don’t think he believes me. “You’re very quiet, Sadie. It worries me.”

“Why?” I ask

“Because quiet people are often thinkers. So you’re thinking right now. What are you thinking about?”

“The nightmare,” I say, then wonder why I said it.

“Tell me about it,” he says, finishing up with the groceries and walking over to the large bank of screens. They are all maps. Satellite maps. He sits in his chair and nods his head at me. “Pull that one up so I can try to explain a few things.”

I look over at an office chair along the wall, walk over to it, and wheel it back to his desk. I sit. Breathe through the silence as I watch him pull up new maps.

“Do you know what this is?” he asks, pointing to the center screen.

“Cathedral City,” I say. “City Park.”

“How do you know that?” he asks.

I point to the screen. “The town towers. I recognize them now. I know I said I didn’t during our escape, but I do now. It’s coming back, I think. My memory.”

“Interesting,” he says. “That you recognize them but not a grocery store.”

“Look,” I say, becoming frustrated and maybe even a little mad. “I don’t know how, OK? I don’t understand anything that’s happening to me. If you don’t want me here—if you don’t trust me—then I’ll leave. I’ll figure it out on my own.”