The Rift Frequency Read online

  I sigh with relief when it’s off. Beneath the suit I’m wearing nothing but a black sports bra. Ordinarily I’d worry about touching Levi dressed like this, about touching him period, but he’s in too much pain for his Blood Lust to activate.

  I hope.

  I gently tie the sleeves of my uniform around my waist and walk briskly to the ocean. I need to clean my injuries before I can put on medicine and dress them. I crouch down and swiftly blow air out of my lungs, then plunge my hands in the warm salt water. I actually scream it hurts so badly. I must be seriously injured. Citadels excel at many things, but most of all they are masters at fighting, lying, and enduring pain. The Roones say we have the ability to turn down the sensitivity of our nerve receptors, which is probably a version of the truth. So the fact that I’m ready to pass out right now says a lot about the magnitude of my injuries. I need real medical attention, but what can I do about it? There’s no one else here, and Levi is worse off than I am.

  I steel myself as I splash seawater on my face, bringing on another round of agony. I falter in the ocean, nothing but collapsing sand beneath my feet to steady myself on. I dig deep, mentally, trying to push through the sharp white pain without passing out, but I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.

  When it feels like I’ve sufficiently cleaned my wounds, which, as far as I can tell, are mostly second-degree burns wherever my skin was exposed, I race back up to the coverage beneath the trees. I dump the contents of both our packs out onto the sand. It’s easier to get what I need this way as opposed to rooting through them with my raw and damaged hands. I take our bowls and cups and run back to the ocean to fill them. I move so fast I manage to outrun the latest wave of pain as the water hits my skin. Or maybe more and more of my pain receptors are being turned off.

  A girl can hope.

  When I get back to our pile of stuff, I find my first aid kit and open it with my teeth. We have an ample supply of medicines and supplies for all kinds of injuries. Edo must have known we would encounter Earths like the last one, with dangerously unstable atmospheres. I find a tube that looks like toothpaste but is labeled as burn ointment. I unscrew it with my teeth and squeeze out a generous amount into my palms. The relief is immediate and palpable and I cover my hands with the medication. I do the same with my face and the pain becomes tolerable. I wrap my entire left hand in a bandage and most of my right, but leave my fingers exposed so I can treat Levi.

  I remove his helmet first. When the contraption retracts he wakes up with a yelp of pain. “Don’t try to be a stoic, okay? Just lie here and let me help you,” I warn him. By way of reply Levi nods his head. “This part is really going to hurt. Like, probably more than anything you’ve ever experienced. I have to clean the injuries and no, I’m not rubbing salt in your wounds for fun. It’s antibacterial, so grit your teeth and don’t punch me.” I gently pour the water I collected from the ocean over his hands. To his credit, Levi remains perfectly still, though tears are pouring down his face. I take a clean cloth and dab his face lightly with the seawater. Wearing a sealed helmet would have helped with bacteria, and even though there is an antibacterial agent in the burn ointment, given our situation, I must be doubly safe. I don’t want to return home before we’ve found Ezra just because of an infection we can prevent.

  Once everything is clean, I gently pick up his hand and, with featherlight fingers, apply the ointment. I hear his heartbeat slow and he releases an audible sigh of relief. The burns he sustained cauterized the bullet wound, which went straight through his palm. I suppose in that one way he was lucky. I wrap both his hands in bandages and then move to his face.

  There’s no denying that Levi is beautiful. His brown hair glints russet in the single shaft of sunlight that has escaped the palm leaves. His eyes are a green as bright as the Rift. But right now he looks like something out of a horror movie. There is not an inch of exposed flesh on his face that is not blistered or bleeding. I gently rub the medicine into his skin. He remains unmoving, but his eyes tell a different story. It seems that he has focused all his pain right in the blazing rings of his irises. I’ve never seen him look so vulnerable, and it actually shakes me to my core until I can force myself to simply focus on the task at hand. When I am done, I sit back on my haunches and reach for the other bandages to wrap the fingers I had left exposed.

  “Thank you,” Levi croaks. I nod my head and turn away. I didn’t choose to become a Citadel, but I did choose to get out from under the yoke of ARC. My decisions are now a constellation of burns and blood on Levi’s face. I don’t know exactly how much I am to blame for all this, but I feel responsible enough, and a wave of guilt washes over me, settling squarely between my shoulder blades.

  Captain Sato had done a lot of preaching about the greater good, and now I recognize why his seemingly casual grasp of the concept offended me. Levi, right here, in agony—this is sacrifice for the greater good.

  Thinking of Sato reminds me of that stupid clock on the wall. My flesh seems to throb in time to the second hand. Tick. Tick. Tick. Every hour we are gone puts everyone more at risk, but right now we’ve run out of options. We have to stop and rest. We have to heal. I pour some water down Levi’s throat and take a deep gulp from my own canteen.

  I pull out the Roone equivalent of a hypodermic needle from the med kit. It looks like a tiny silver gun with a hollow front where you can swap out different medicines. I load up Levi’s with a pain medication that will knock him out. He’s looking at me, shaking his head. He doesn’t want this.

  I don’t have time for his stubborn ass right now.

  “We have to, Levi. We’re in no condition to do anything. And besides, I really don’t think there’s anything or anyone else here. This is Waterworld Earth. We need to sleep.”

  I prep the little gun and watch the slender needle snap out. “All I need is rest, not sleep. We could be out for days,” Levi says in a whisper.

  I cock my head and give him my best mom look. “If you had a mirror right now, you’d let me do this.”

  “I don’t need a mirror. I can see what you look like.” I curl my lip. Rude. No need to state the obvious.

  “Sorry.” Not sorry. I jab the needle into his neck, maybe a little harder than necessary. I watch his eyes flutter and close. He’s out in seconds. With the last bit of energy I have I manage to make a lean-to of sorts by jamming our rifles into the sand and attaching a solar sheet with tiny holes in the corners for this very purpose. It’s little things like this that freak me out. The Roones really did think of everything. I’d love to believe that Edo is on our side, but until we get her laptop and what it contains from Ezra, how can we really know for sure? When we take down ARC, who’s to say the Roones don’t have some way of wresting control of us? If it comes down to a fight, how do we engage an enemy who is so many steps ahead?

  The trees provide shade, but I have no idea how long we will be down. The solar sheet will keep us cool and provide some coverage. I hope. The ointment’s effects are beginning to wear off. I lie down beside Levi and load my own needle gun. I make sure there are at least two inches of space between us. I inhale deeply. We’re losing valuable time we can’t afford, but there’s nothing for it. I inject myself with the pain medication.

  Immediately, I feel a rush, like warm bathwater running through my veins. As a Citadel, I’ve been hurt a lot and given all manner of drugs, including variations of opiates like these. I expect that in a second or two I will be out like Levi, but I am not. Instead, my head starts swimming and my body feels like it’s falling, fast and deep. I can’t imagine anyone doing this for fun. I hate this feeling, this loss of control.

  And then, I see Ezra, clear as anything, standing just a few feet away. Part of me knows it’s the drugs, but a bigger part is sure that it’s really him. He is beautiful and perfect—bronze-colored skin like caramel, tall and lanky with those luminous eyes matching the turquoise of the ocean behind him.

  “Ezra,” I whisper as I hold out my hand. W
hy is he still standing there? Why doesn’t he come over here? I flex my fingers outward toward him, but he remains where he is. Then, slowly, his skin begins to bubble. I blink hard. His flesh begins to melt off his bones. “No. No. No . . .” I say, though I’m not sure whether I’m actually using my voice or if my voice is trapped inside my mouth. Frantically, I think about the Earth that we were just on. We had been so desperate to leave, I hadn’t checked for a body. I hadn’t made sure that he wasn’t there. Oh God. Why hadn’t I done that? How could I just have left without thinking of him? I can see his jawbone through the blood and muscle that is falling off him in grotesque chunks. He is saying something and I am straining to hear above the ocean waves. Finally, I hear him.

  “Get up!” Ezra screams. “Why aren’t you looking for me? Get up!”

  Blackness bleeds through the corners of my vision. My eyesight is closing up like a pinhole camera. I want to stay awake. I want to assure him that I will find him, but I can’t move or speak. It’s too late now. My hand drops. I am out.

  Chapter 5

  I don’t wake up all at once. My mind clicks on, but my body is slower to follow. In my confusion, I expect the nightmare version of Ezra to be standing and screaming in front of me. I am both relieved and disappointed when I see nothing but white sand and an ocean that’s so blue it’s practically neon.

  I turn my head. Levi is gone. Of course he is. I’m sure at some point later he’ll make some passive-aggressive remark about waking up first. I sit up slowly and notice that although my hands and face are tingling, they don’t really hurt. I unwind the bandages and have a look. The skin is a little raw and red, with some peeling, but other than that my hands are fine. I really have to pee, so I’m glad that Levi isn’t in the immediate area. I walk farther into the grove and squat down. I look at my watch. It looks like we’ve been asleep for close to fifteen hours. My heart sinks. It’s such a long time. I pull up my uniform and walk back to the temporary shelter. I scan the horizon and spot Levi at the farthest end of the island, swimming in the water. I’m sure he didn’t go in with his uniform on, so I turn away. There’s no privacy here, for either of us, and I don’t like it. It was one thing, back at Camp Bonneville, to agree to a partnership with Levi. Back there, it was all theoretical and strategic. Out here, just the two of us, it’s unnerving. I can easily ignore his hostility even though it’s as obvious as one of those duck-lipped idiots with a selfie stick from my high school. No, it’s when he’s not angry—when he goes quiet and I know he’s watching me—that he really gets under my skin. Is he judging me? Admiring me? Resenting me? All of the above? I have no idea and it’s not like he’d ever in a million years be honest. We’re liars. All of us Citadels are, but he takes it one step further. Stupid, competitive boy. He always has to be the best. At everything.

  Whatever. I’ve got work to do before we can Rift out. I walk to the other side of the beach and collect more seawater in a metal can about the size of a coffee canister. I drop in a pill to desalinize the water and then I undress, putting my underwear, bra, and bandages inside of it. This is yet another great Roone invention: a tiny, portable washing machine. I take a drop of soap and snap the lid shut. I hit the On button and quickly slither into my extra undergarments. I slip on a pair of leggings and a T-shirt so that I can air out my uniform. I jump up a few feet and attach it to a small palm leaf.

  When I turn, Levi is back. His uniform is unzipped about as far as it can be without it being indecent. His V, which is admittedly glorious, is as defined as an underwear model’s. I also notice that his face looks fine, as if he’s a little sunburnt. His nose is peeling, though, and he gives me a sheepish grin.

  “God, Levi,” I say while rolling my eyes. “Why don’t you just get naked?” I’m frustrated. We need boundaries here more than ever. The Blood Lust isn’t a problem for me anymore, but Levi is still susceptible. This is no time to be reckless.

  “Do you see anyone here? There is nothing. No one. This is literally a desert island. I didn’t realize you were so uptight.”

  Am I being uptight? Would I care if it were Boone or Henry? No, probably not. But Henry is gay and Boone is in love with Violet. So no, I’m not uptight. I’m wary and Levi is playing a dangerous game because even though he’s one of the most irritating people I know, he also has Captain America’s bod. Which is doubly annoying, really. This partnership of convenience would be so much easier if he were hideous because even though he’s Levi, it’s hard not to stare.

  “Whatever.” I shrug my shoulders, unwilling to let him know that he can affect me in that way, or in any way. “I’m doing a wash of my bandages and some . . . other stuff. You should do yours. They were pretty gross.”

  “I will. I need to eat first, though. I actually don’t think I’ve ever been hurt so bad.” Levi proceeds to set up our camp stove and sets the water to boil. Then he grabs a food pack and dumps it in to heat. Sitting on the ground with his face in his hands, he does look more worn than I’ve ever seen him. My stomach growls loud enough to get my attention, and probably Levi’s, too. So I grab my own food pack and put it inside the boiling water and wait a few minutes.

  I am not thinking about the injuries we just sustained or how sensitive my skin might be, and I pick up the hot package of food from the pot, unprepared for the searing pain in my fingers. I drop my meal and stumble backward, right into Levi. I land squarely in his lap.

  He is almost naked and I am not wearing my uniform. It takes only a second for me to realize what I have done. We lock eyes momentarily. I had been so wrapped up with what Levi might be up to that I’m the one who fucks up. I lost focus.

  Dammit.

  I scramble up, hoping that our brief contact was not enough to trigger the Blood Lust. But his eyes narrow and take on a look of absolute malice, and I know that all the wishing and hoping in the world is not going to change what my clumsiness has just done. As Levi said, we are on a desert island. It’s just the two of us and I didn’t just brush against him. I landed on him.

  “Levi,” I say gently as I back up. I don’t have very long before he comes at me. My soothing tone fails to even register. “Levi!” I snap, this time with authority, as if he’s an attack dog and I can get him to heel by playing alpha. That doesn’t work, either, but to his credit, he hasn’t yet lunged for me. Maybe he can fight it.

  Then again, probably not.

  I have no doubt that if I don’t manage this situation, Levi will kill me. I’ll put up a hell of a fight, but he’s better than I am, and bigger. I have to think, quickly. There’s only one thing that will stop him. Pain. A lot of very, very bad pain. I look around for anything I can use. I’m almost up against our stove. I could throw boiling water at him, but if it gets in his eyes it could blind him, maybe permanently. I need a partner who can see.

  I notice his utility knife in the sand. He probably left it out to puncture the food packs. It’s still sheathed, but I’m fairly certain that I can get the blade out faster than he can get at me. He sees me look at the knife.

  Time’s up.

  Levi pounces as I jump for the knife. He lands where I just was while I somersault away again, taking the knife out as I do. I put the blade between my teeth so I can use my hands to do a back handspring away. This is a pretty show-offy way to distance myself from him, but it’s also something he’s not expecting, and I can get a tremendous amount of space between us because I’m using both my arms and legs for power.

  I don’t have time to bask in the glory of nailing the landing. I whip the knife out of my mouth and throw it. He’s not expecting this, either. He wants to kill me, but he wants to use his bare hands. He wants to strangle me or maybe punch my head until my skull shatters into a hundred pieces. You don’t think about knives or guns so much inside the Blood Lust, because the kill would be too clean, too unsatisfying. You want blood, and you want to feel that you caused it.

  The knife lands squarely in his right shoulder, exactly where I meant it to. I threw it hard and
it’s now embedded deep inside the muscle. That’s an actual skill they teach during Citadel training. At the time I believed it was utterly ridiculous. Who has the luxury to stress about missing a vital organ when you’re fighting for your life? Sadly, since then I have honed this throwing talent and used it many times. Do I worry about being killed on the battlefield? Absolutely. But I worry more about killing unnecessarily. There are only so many lives you can take without it completely, irrevocably, fucking you up.

  My plan works. I watch Levi’s face change from fury to frustration to outright pain. He looks at the knife and I look at him. He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw.

  “I am so, so sorry,” I say as I walk toward him, picking up the med kit from the pile of our stuff on the way.

  “Ryn, stop,” Levi commands, with more defeat in his voice than I have ever heard. I do as he says. I want to keep on apologizing, but I feel like it’s better if I don’t speak, and follow his lead. “Just throw the med bag over here,” he asks softly.

  “Levi, come on . . . ,” I practically plead. “You won’t be triggered again. You’re in too much pain. Let me help you.” I take another step.

  “Seriously, Ryn, back the fuck up!” I wince at his sudden burst of anger. I’m used to him like this, of course, but right now I’m feeling guilty. I’m vulnerable to his tone. I swallow hard.

  “Fine,” I tell him as I throw the bag. It lands at his feet and he squats down, opens the case, and grabs an anticoagulant gel, superglue, and a bandage. I can’t believe he’s going to do this by himself. I blow out in frustration and wish that I could turn away, but I have to make sure he patches himself up decently because he won’t let me help.