strength and the brains combined.”
“You do, Coalton,” Levi agrees.
“Obviously, I’m the leader. So let me lead,” Abigail yells out.
“Moving on. the Muses also knew how to manipulate their own DNA, so they collectively put something extra in there. Because the DNA was diluted, only two of every five of us got what they gave us. One remembers—a little at a time, but it will all come back eventually. The other has the gift of telepathy, and can communicate with their Muse. I am the telepath in my group, and Alejandra is the one who remembers. We’ve already established that Michaela is the one of you who remembers.”
“I’m our telepath,” Hinton admits.
“Yes, not the ‘analyst’ that your Creator wanted you to think you are, but a telepath like me.”
“Traitors,” Abigail yells. “Kill the traitors!”
I don’t know who she’s talking to until Clayton moves. He has some kind of knife, and he goes for Hinton. We all jump up, and inexplicably, Levi stands in front of me.
I don’t have time to think about that now, as I watch what’s playing out in front of me. Lauren tosses a similar knife to Hinton, and then it’s on.
Hinton
I have the skills to kill, and I know it, but I’d hoped to never have to use them. That must be another mutation of my DNA, since I’m supposed to want to use my skills. At least I think I am. All I know is I don’t.
My will to live is stronger than my compulsion to put down the knife, so I go ahead and fight. We parry back and forth, knives clanging when we clash. More often than not, I’m jumping out of the way as he swings wildly. It’s almost as if he’s possessed, and because I know something’s wrong, I don’t try and strike out at him. I deflect, but I don’t engage.
This seems to be making him angrier instead of just giving me a chance to figure a way out. “We don’t need to do this, Clayton.”
“We do. Once I kill you, your Muse will have no one to communicate with, and he’ll never connect with your siblings.”
“I wouldn’t be so cocky. The Muses aren’t stupid,” Levi says.
Why is he just sitting on the table? Shouldn’t he be fighting, too, instead of calmly speaking to his friend—his brother —who’s trying to kill at least one of us?
“Three of them are dead,” Clayton tells him.
“And two live.”
“Not for long.”
“Remember what I said about being cocky?”
“Shut up or you’re next!”
“You can try.”
He seems so calm, and then the voice in my head speaks to me, and I know why. “Stab him in the side, just above his left hip. It’s one of our kill spots. Do it now!”
I don’t hesitate, because I really do want to live. I take the next opening, and stab my knife into him. He manages to slice me across my right biceps, and it burns, but I know I won’t die from it. The voice was telling the truth—I honestly didn’t doubt it—and Clayton is dead within a minute.
“No!” Abigail wails, before she starts yanking on the bars, trying to break herself free. They don’t budge, but that doesn’t stop her.
“We should go, Levi. They know we’re here, and they’re liable to surround the island soon.”
“You need to tell us the rest,” Coalton reminds him.
“I will,” he promises. “We need to destroy everything in here, and go while we still can.”
I’m still looking at the knife in my hand, covered in blood, when Alejandra pulls it out of my hands. “It was necessary.”
“I know.”
“Yet you’re angry.”
“Not at any of you. I’m angry that I was put into this situation.”
She nods. “We all are. With any luck, we’ll be free soon.”
“You really believe that?”
“If I didn’t, I would’ve given up already.”
I guess that’s true. I need to get over this, because I can’t go back, and undo what I did. Even if I could, I think I’d always choose to save myself.
“What can I help with?”
Coalton
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The 12 NAs of Christmas, Chelsea M. Cameron