Resist: A Possession Short Story



  Go inside the Resistance with this exclusive short story from Zenn!

  Resist: A Possession Short Story

  Copyright 2011 Elana Johnson

  The city of Freedom lay a thousand miles to the east, and teleporting such a great distance held the potential for intense complications. I eyed the teleporters in front of me, their indicator lights still dark, with a sense of foreboding.

  “Blaze, you go first.” My dad stood at the controls, adjusting a sensor. I watched from my position next to Blaze Barque, a quiet discomfort growing in my stomach.

  But this mission was necessary. Information created power, and we didn’t want the Association to know how powerful the Resistance had grown here in the west. Three prisoners had been taken from the Goodgrounds last week, and we needed them back before they cracked.

  Or were killed, I thought, but quickly pushed away. No doubt the Director of Freedom would extract what he needed and order their swift executions. Blaze and I needed to prevent both.

  “Zenn, you’ll go second,” Dad said without a trace of fear in his voice. I don’t know how he did it. His government job in the teleportation department benefited the Resistance greatly. But the risks he took every day—and every night—had to weigh on him. He lived like they didn’t. “The drop point has been set to an alley behind Rise Eleven.”

  Blaze nodded his acknowledgement and tightened the straps on his backpack. He carried the tech we’d need to cancel the incoming teleportation signal that would bust us before we began. Freedom was no lightweight when it came to security. The only way in or out without breaching the tech barrier wall was by teleportation. And that needed at least ten codes and special clearance from the Director.

  We had neither, which meant that we didn’t have clearance to enter the capital of the Association in the middle of the night. But that hardly mattered to Jag Barque, Mr. Leader of the Resistance. My fingers fisted at the thought of him. I glared at Blaze since I couldn’t laser-gaze at his younger brother. They were both idiots. Blaze Barque had been appointed Assistant Director of Seaside a month ago. He should be nowhere near Freedom on this cold January night.

  I could handle this mission alone. I’d told Jag that. I’d argued that if Blaze got caught, or recognized, or didn’t make it out alive—always a possibility when entering enemy territory—that the entire Resistance would be compromised. He was an Assistant Director, a position of authority inside the Association. Someone who could gather intelligence and keep the Resistance supplied with reliable information. We didn’t have many spies as high up in the government as Blaze. He shouldn’t be going.

  But neither he nor Jag saw the wisdom in that. When I’d mentioned it to my dad, he hadn’t looked away from his notes and said, “Jag does what he wants.”

  And that was the solid-silver truth. He didn’t care that he was only fourteen, or that I was; he never considered that the few adults in the Resistance might know more than him. Sure, he acted like he listened, and he asked for opinions, but in the end, Jag always did what he thought best. And apparently, sending his older brother to Freedom to evacuate Insiders was what was best.

  As his second-in-command, I thought my opinion meant more. Obviously not, I thought as the lights surrounding Blaze blinked and wavered.

  I’d been risking my life for almost two years for Jag Barque and the Resistance. I believed in it fiercely. I felt caged inside a life with no purpose, with no way out, and the Resistance gave me an anchor to hold onto. Jag and I worked together seamlessly. Though we didn’t always agree, we kept the end goal in sight. Our methods differed, but our determination to see this through to the end did not.

  I just hoped the end didn’t include my death. The knot of tension in my stomach tightened as the teleporter whirred. Blaze blinked and wavered.

  Then he vanished.

  Teleportation to Freedom took two minutes, twelve seconds. Dad worked at his instrument panel to cancel the record of the outgoing teleport while I replaced images of Jag with fantasies of Vi. That should have eased the clenching in my gut, or at least brought a smile to my face. But no. All it did was remind me of how dangerously close I was to losing her.

  If the Resistance gave my life purpose, then Vi gave it joy. We’d been best friends for years, but at some point the friendship morphed into something I couldn’t quite name. All I knew was that I loved her.

  More than the Resistance?

  The question mocked me inside my own head, but it rattled around in the tone of Director Myers.

  Vi meant more to me than the Resistance. Infinitely more.

  I hadn’t told Director Myers that, but he’d figured out how incredibly close to my heart I held Vi. She needed me in much the same way the Resistance did. And while she was broken, I believed she’d find a way to fix herself. Just like our society. It was broken, but I believed we’d find a way to repair it.

  And so I’d volunteered for this mission to Freedom. But I dreaded it as well. Because I might run into Director Myers. He’d given me an ultimatum last week via e-comm. Choose, Zenn. Jag or Violet.

  I’d always choose Vi.

  Always.

  But if I put Director Myers off much longer, he could do something drastic. Like kill Vi. He’d said as much in his latest message. You can’t play both sides on this one. And time’s not on your side.

  The fact that he knew Jag’s name and how deep I was involved with the Resistance scared me. I could’ve been one of the prisoners taken; what I knew could be extracted and I could be left for dead.

  The fact that he knew about my infatuation with Vi brought a crippling terror to my throat. Director Myers was not to be trifled with. He had the power of the entire Association on his side, and I was inconsequential to his end goal. As was Vi.

  “Ready, son?” Dad’s voice snapped me out of the place in my mind where I imagined Vi bleeding, her life drifting away along with the beauty in her eyes.

  I stepped into the teleporter. As my particles shook and blazed into fire, the image of Vi dying shifted to the murderous look I’d see on Jag’s face if/when he found out I couldn’t help him anymore.

  I could hold my breath for almost four minutes. I didn’t practice because I liked to push the limit. I did it so I could travel to Freedom without passing out. Two minutes, twelve seconds had become nothing over the years. I could probably hold my breath that long in my sleep.

  But sleep was nearly a thing of the past. I didn’t do much of that anymore, not since joining the Resistance just before my thirteenth birthday. And I gave up the habit altogether once Director Myers started hissing threats over my comm.

  The last thing I needed was him inspecting my dreams.

  His threats had started coming in a couple of weeks ago. I’d been dodging Vi since then, spending more time on my work with the Resistance.

  But the Resistance is a poor replacement for Vi. The Resistance didn’t look at me with those turquoise eyes and pouty smile. It didn’t breathe my name next to the lake and send me illegal e-comms in the middle of earth science class. I didn’t dream about kissing the Resistance.

  I’d always choose Vi.

 

  Because of the great distance, my particles reorganized agonizingly slow. After a few seconds, I could make out Blaze standing next to the wall of Rise Eleven, typing something into it. A bright light flashed, but by the time I could draw breath and take a step, it faded into blackness.

  “Stay here,” I said quickly, shouldering the backpack he’d dropped.

  “What?”

  “You’re the Assistant Director of Seaside. You’re not going.” I didn’t care what Jag said/did. I didn’t care what Blaze said/d
id. This was my life on the line, and I wasn’t going in there with someone who could compromise the entire mission, no matter what assurances Jag had given me.

  “I’ll get the Insiders myself,” I said, my voice creeping up in volume. “Have the teleporter ring ready.”

  “Zenn—”

  “I just need you to have the teleporter ring ready.”

  Blaze looked like he was going to argue again, but he didn’t. “Fine. I’ll stay here.”

  “Damn straight you will.” I strode to the edge of the building. I didn’t turn to see if he’d conceded. He’d stay.

  Beyond the alley, the streets of Freedom stretched into a black abyss. I’m not gonna lie, my heart pumped into overdrive, spreading fear and adrenaline through my body. I knew this city. I’d been here countless times over the past few years.

  And I hated this place with every cell in my body. The lair of the most powerful Directors. The birthplace of mind readers and schools to teach people how to use and control others. Freedom epitomized everything the Resistance fought against.

  I stayed inside the shadows, which wasn’t difficult on this moonless night. The height of the buildings would’ve blocked any light from reaching the immaculate cement anyway. Rise Twelve towered in the distance a mile away. To the untrained eye, it looked as sleepy as the rest of the Rises.

  But I saw the flicker of light on the roof that indicated someone stood