The Plantation Series Box Set I: Books 1-3: The Plantation Box Sets, #1

By Stella Fitzsimons

When the light of the human species vanished, there was a girl... and a spark.

 

In a world come to an end, one girl and one ragtag group of teen slaves find each other in the dark woods. They plan to make a stand.

This collection includes the first three novels in the bestselling dystopian series THE PLANTATION.
(BOOKS: The Plantation, The Dark Legion, The Shadow Empire.)

 

THE PLANTATION (Book 1)
A century has passed since they arrived. Human history has been erased. Children are enslaved on Alien plantations. Some have heard whispers of the existence of a rebel band of humans who roam free in the forests. Most slaves dare not speak of the rebels for fear the mutant guards will grab and make an example of them.

Seventeen-year-old Freya is pulled away in the night not by the mutants, but by her old friend Finn, to join the Saviors, the mythic band of rebel teens. Her bliss fades when she discovers she is the only Savior without a special ability. She is the odd one out, slowly pushing Finn away, defying Damian, the leader of the Saviors, and antagonizing the fierce and beautiful Daphne. In her despair Freya reaches deep within to discover a dark destiny, a truth so heavy it threatens to destroy her.

 

THE DARK LEGION (Book 2)
They have waited for her all these years, even before she was born. She lives hidden from their vulture-like drones, hidden in the dark, cavernous lair of her enemies.

The unseen ones will come for her. They must come for her. Their very existence depends on finding her, the girl with the gift of light, of power, of life.

Haunted by a past she does not understand, by a destiny they plan for her, Freya must leave the Saviors behind, leave Damian and Finn, leave even little Pip and embark on a perilous journey with a beastly warrior.

She will venture out beyond the ends of the charted lands, risking all she holds dear to cross the dead zone to where the Dark Legion awaits.

 

THE SHADOW EMPIRE (Book 3)
They come from a noble legacy of wonder and discovery. They cut through wormholes, portals and anomalies like shadows skipping across a celestial sea.

The hooded ones appear in an instant and disappear in a fraction. Every sleeping child fears a glimpse of their ghastly faces in their darkest dreams.

The Shadow Empire is dying. Their struggle for survival has reached a final battlefield in the forests of a primitive planet called Earth.

Freya, the hunted one, the most wanted fugitive in the history of the empire, wants to make everything right in her own dying world. She feels rage flowing through her fingertips. She feels her broken heart hungering savage ways.

She must become like nothing the world has ever known to save Damian, to save the floating city, to save Finn and Pip and little Tobi, too, but with war looming, will she be able to save her own soul?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Butterfly Electric Press
• Release date: Oct 4, 2014
• ISBN: 9781502210470

Stella Fitzsimons

Stella Fitzsimons is a bestselling author of urban fantasy and dystopian fiction. She is the author of "The Plantation" series which includes six novels and one novella. She is currently working on the Urban Fantasy series "Mist Riders". Stella is a traveler, a passionate reader and an ardent cook. She likes to blend ingredients to create edgy results in both her sci-fi and fantasy fairy tales, and her family cuisine. She lives in Southern California with her husband, two children and an ever-growing collection of books.  

Book preview

Chapter 1

Everywhere I turn, all I see is black. My vision drowns in cascading waves of darkness. I tread on something soft and slippery. There’s the smell of sweat and drying mud in the air. I hear distant footsteps marching but I see nothing. That’s good, I think. It means they can’t see me either. They don’t know I’m here for them. They have no idea we linger in the shadows, our hearts swelling with adrenaline. Even their slaves fear us as they long for our coming. They hear whispers of our existence, but they don’t dare believe in us. We are their dark hope. We are legend. We are the Saviors.

Freya. I hear my name whispered from afar. Freya, what are you doing? One, plus one, plus one! Launch the attack now.

Theo’s voice, disturbing and commanding, shakes me out of the daydream. I have to concentrate on the task at hand. One, plus one, plus one doesn’t equal three anymore. It equals assault and hope.

One, I pull the lever to my left.

Two, I press the red flashing button in front of me.

Three, I check the numbers on the upper right-hand corner of my virtual goggles.

One, two, three, go time.

The attack is launched in an avalanche of thuds and lightning. I find myself in the middle of Plantation-9 with at least a dozen weapons pointed at me – mostly tactical pulse rifles, but also two shock bows and a KA-1 Plasmer.

There’s no time to think. I have to act fast. I activate my shield that covers me like a purple aura. I pull out my pulse gun and run toward the rows of army green tents. I’m shot once, then twice. One more time and the shield will be down. Every shot will count then.

I take a leap to the left and I duck just in time to avoid a lethal magnetic knife whistling right above my head. I turn and shoot three times. I hit a Sliman (or Slimy as we call them) on the shin. His body writhes in pain for a moment and then he charges at me.

He’s very tall and built like a rock. He’s strong and he’s got the best hand-eye coordination in the known universe. He can see as well as a hawk and he can run faster than a deer. He’s a genetic mutation designed to take no prisoners—a mix of DNA from three different planets. Yet, he looks eerily human, except for his emerald green eyes and his chameleonic skin that can change color and thickness to better adapt to any environment as to become the ultimate shield in battle. His skin can also breathe underwater for a while through its pores. There’s no easy way to beat this monster.

Maybe no way at all.

A second later, I’m dead. Damian won’t be happy. He thinks I never perform to my full potential and he’s probably right, although I wouldn’t admit it to anyone. I have no doubt I will be in trouble when he sees my performance screen. We didn’t start calling him Red by accident.

I take off my helmet, unbuckle the belt around my waist and get out of the simulation pod. Sometimes I think we are extremely lucky to have found these abandoned alien facilities and to have them function again, thanks to our two tech geniuses: Theo and Zoe. Other times, when I’m calm and adrenaline levels are low, I think we’re playing with fire and we’ll probably live to regret it. Or not. Live, that is.

Come back tonight, Theo says as I hand him the helmet. I’ll have a new battle for you.

Something easier no doubt. I’ll try, Theo, I tell him to get him off my back.

His serious, hazel eyes narrow. Do better than try.

For a sixteen-year-old geek he can be very bossy. I refrain from messing with his hair that’s in desperate need of a trim. I head for the door, saying nothing.

He sees right through me. We’re not ready, Freya. None of us.

He’s right. We are not ready to go on a real mission or enter into actual battles – not yet. Least of all me. I am probably the weakest link among the twelve. Damian has said many times that I lack confidence and that confidence improves focus. That’s great, only now I am just focused on my lack of confidence.

My best friend among the Saviors, Finn, would argue that I am as special as everybody else or I wouldn’t be in the camp. He insists that it takes an enormous amount of courage to even imagine there’s anything outside the plantations, let alone to actually live out here in the wild as fugitives.

What Finn doesn’t understand is that I believed in the possibility of a free life simply because I was prepared to believe in anything. And everything. It was all a matter of timing and opportunity for me. I believed because I was weak and scared, not because I dreamed of heroic achievements. Finn is always kind and so when I protest like that, he replies that knowing one’s weaknesses is the ultimate strength.

We have taken to calling ourselves the Saviors. In reality, no one has yet heard of us. We have to change that. Or maybe not. Maybe it would be better if the twelve of us just learned to live in the wild and stayed far away from the Sliman army.

RABBIT WAITS FOR ME outside the simulation building. I almost forgot I promised I’d show him how to make different types of knots today. It’s one of the few things I’m really good at. Water knots, square knots, Palomar knots, you name it, I’ll make it.

The old alien facilities consist of eight separate buildings placed one next to the other in a semi-circle with a great open space in the middle that we use for training. We call it the combat ring. A huge chunk of the forest had to be cleared to make room for this construction.

What was your simulation score? Rabbit says, swaying nervously from side to side.

Never mind that, I say. Did you bring your rope?

Rabbit gives me the widest grin. You mean this? he says as he lifts his hand, holding a thick piece of rope. You know I never forget.

Stop bouncing like that, you’re giving me a headache, I tell him to scold him, but the truth is I don’t mind his manic energy.

We leave the facilities and return to the surrounding forest. We take the six hundred steps to our camp at a slow pace, preferring to linger telling silly dreams. It’s easy to do that with Rabbit. He makes me forget the harsh realities of our circumstances. He’s enthusiastic and passionate about the smallest things. He talks about everything that pops into his head, especially the future.

As we reach the camp, we go straight to my tent. I need to get more rope and strings for our lesson. Rabbit’s tent as well as Finn’s and mine are the only three tents on the east side of the camp. The rest of the Saviors stay on the west side to be closer to the water well and the crops. Our best escape route, an old tunnel, is also located on the west side.

Rabbit looks tired in his wrinkly brown pants and shirt. He’s got dirt and mud all over him.

Have you been running in the hills again? I ask him.

He shrugs and I know I’m right. He always goes beyond the south side of the forest despite Damian’s multiple stern warnings. He likes to climb on top of the tallest bluff which provides an open view of the clearing and the facilities below.

Rabbit is the youngest Savior, barely thirteen, and possibly the fastest creature that has ever existed. He’s undersized for his age and can outrun the wind. Ever since we read about a cheetah in an ancient book, he dreams of traveling to the far-off land where cheetahs once roamed free. Unlike the cheetah, and lucky for us, Rabbit can go beyond a twenty-second sprint and survive. Needless to say, he is the only one among us who could outrun the Sliman guards if it ever came to that.

We sit on the ground outside my tent. There’s a pleasant afternoon breeze helping to battle the heat. Rabbit talks almost as fast as he moves and he somehow manages to make sense today. It’s not always the case.

I can’t wait for the time we make our move on Plantation-6 and I find Kicky and Mendy and get them out of there. Their eyes will fall out when they realize it’s me, he says with a chuckle.

Plantation-6 was Rabbit’s plantation. The place where he was harvested, trained and severely punished every time he made a mistake. That’s the way we were all treated at our separate plantations.

His friends, Kicky and Mendy, were in fact called 6-57849A76 and 6-57940A57, according to Rabbit. We have all been tempted at one time or another to give names to our long-lost friends from the plantations. We can’t help but imagine the day when we will free them.

The alien invaders that run the plantation system do not permit names. Our names were the numbers they tattooed on the back of our necks. That’s also the reason we were not allowed to have hair longer than two inches in the plantations. Those numbers identified us to the Sliman guards as well as what work detail we belonged to.

There are fifteen plantations in the district. We know nothing of the rest of the world, or even if there’s anybody alive outside the plantations and the breeding villages. We wouldn’t even know there was a world beyond what we have seen if it weren’t for the library ruins in Lost Town, a place the original Saviors happened upon years ago.

I shake my head at the painful memories. I try to concentrate on the rope in my hands as I begin to make a water knot for Rabbit.

Everything else in our district has been destroyed, pulverized, brought down by the alien invaders and their mutant army, the terrifying Sliman. To survive, we have to stay out of their way as much as we can, avoiding the areas where they have surveillance cameras and radars, and being extremely careful not to run into a patrol. The aliens might not know our plans or what we call ourselves, but they are aware of our absence and we are forever hunted.

Rabbit knows as well as I do that we’re nowhere near ready to take over the plantations and free the tens of thousands of children that are trapped in them. He just likes to talk about the future as if it were a part of the present. It helps him stay focused and aggressive, and sleep like a baby at night.

He manages to make a perfect artillery loop a second after I show him how to do it. His fingers are as quick as his legs. He’s been growing by leaps and bounds and I don’t mean that as a joke. Finn and I have kind of adopted him. Rabbit likes our company and we like his. He listens to us and treats us with the utmost respect, something that I, at least, could use more of.

When I am being totally honest with myself, it’s painfully clear that the other eleven Saviors have special attributes and skills that have made them destined to be a part of this rebellion. I’m just Finn’s friend from the plantation days. A lucky byproduct of his generosity.

When Damian and Daphne show up, Rabbit and I are both surprised. Those two don’t usually visit with us at the wrong end of the encampment, that’s too close to the thick part of the forest and, at the same time, too far from the facilities and the underground tunnel that could be used as an emergency escape route. I guess it’s their way of showing their disapproval. They have warned us that it is not safe just about a million times.

What they don’t get is that our little spot is cooler, especially at night, and the deer we have befriended look to us for food and water. We are their protectors and when they run, we are alerted of possible danger. We are happier here and we feel totally safe.

One look at Daphne and I know what she’s thinking. It’s written all over her face. Tying knots instead of training or doing chores. I’m sure there’s no doubt in her mind that she could salvage Rabbit if only she could have a week alone with him and away from my influence.

So this is how the alien empire will fall? With a few lengths of rope? Daphne says. She has such an arrogant smirk on her structurally perfect face.

All I can do is roll my eyes at her and finish the noose I have been tying ever since I saw her approaching. I’d like to snap those long legs of hers, but to do that I’d have to be as strong as Damian.

It might take everything we have to win back the world, Damian says, keeping the peace, including a few lengths of rope.

Daphne’s smirk fades. She has never liked me and I cannot say I am especially fond of her. I have to admit she is more than just a pretty face and long legs. She is easily the strongest girl I have ever seen and she dominates most of us in training with just about every weapon. More importantly, her psychic powers could prove essential in avoiding future strategic mistakes for the Saviors. It frustrates her to no end that her powers do not work on me.

If you are so interested in what we do in our camp, Daphne, I say, why don’t you move out here with us? I throw the freshly-tied noose over to her. She holds it up and realizes what she’s holding. We could easily make some room for you out here.

You’re such a child, Daphne says, tossing the noose aside.

Damian shakes his head. Meeting in twenty minutes in the Armory, he says. His face fails to hide a certain degree of amusement. Well, he certainly hasn’t seen the simulation scores for the day yet.

Damian is our leader and the oldest in the group. He just turned twenty which probably makes him the oldest free person in the world, or at least in our part of it. He can really get on my nerves and in my head but I guess those are good qualities in a leader. I do wish he’d exhale more and smile a little.

We do not know if there are other plantations or other rebel groups outside the world of our district. Toxic craters filled with mud surround the plantation district and prevent us from ever leaving it. Our previous leader, Cal, had walked all the way to the perimeter and seen it with his own eyes.

I barely knew Cal. I had only been at the camp for a couple of months when he died. I had been liberated by Finn, Damian and Daphne. Finn had promised he would come back for me when he escaped Plantation-8. He was like a big brother to me and now he’s my best friend. His word has always been as good as raw honey on a small wound. Faith in another can make you heal.

For all intents and purposes, Damian is the only Savior leader I have ever known. He’s tall and stronger than anybody I have ever encountered. His strength rivals the Sliman. He understands strategy and tactics better than any of us and, if you believe Daphne and Zoe, he has a brutish charm. As for me... let’s just say he’s hard to ignore.

Rabbit blasts away from our camp in a blur before I can even get up. All three of us watch as all that’s left behind is a few fallen leaves floating back to the ground where his feet had been.

I’ll be there, I say, gathering up the various knots Rabbit and I have tied.

Don’t be late, Daphne sneers at me. Given your track record, I wouldn’t be surprised if you missed the one meeting that concerns you most. She follows Rabbit’s path with long strides. Her behavior is a little more bizarre than usual.

Damian stands in front of me. Nothing has been decided. We wanted you to participate in the process, he says with an unexpected tenderness. Damian usually has no patience for me.

Damian, what is it? I say, growing more than a little concerned.

My question confuses him. I thought you knew. We thought Rabbit would have told you.

"Told me what?’ I ask as a sinking feeling hits my belly.

Finn is missing.

Chapter 2

Finn left the camp two days ago. He volunteered to go out and scan the perimeter around the encampment within a two-mile radius and chart down any noticeable changes or unusual activity. Finn is always the first to volunteer for stuff like that.

Why does he constantly have to put his life in danger? Why not let Damian or Daphne take charge for a change? They are both better skilled and stronger than Finn. They have more experience than all of us as they are two of the original Saviors. Finn is the one with the sense of duty though. Damian is the leader but Finn is the eternal protector. He wants to shield everyone from harm and secure their safety. It’s what drives him.

It shouldn’t upset me that he’s willing to take risks. We are all in danger as long as we breathe. There’s no escape from that. My reaction is a little hypocritical, because of what we are, but also because Finn has protected me all my life and I’ve never complained about that. Finn is the only reason I belong with the Saviors at all. Where he is, I should be. This may be the only thing I know for sure.

We come from the same breeding village and the same plantation, Finn and I. Plantation-8. We were transferred to the plantation separately when we turned seven years old like all other children, Finn a year ahead of me, leaving our mothers and younger siblings behind in the breeding village. Ever since, Finn has been my only family and comfort. He has protected and cared for me, has given me part of his food ration when I felt weak or sick, has tucked me in and stroked my hair when I couldn’t sleep.

And he came back for me. He didn’t have to but he did.

Finn escaped from the plantation when he was fourteen, trusting that the rumors about the rebel bands of teens were true. It took him a year and a half before he came back for me and by that time I had lost all hope that he would return, or that he was even alive. I missed him and I had to fight back tears as I was under surveillance all day. At night, I unleashed my fury on my pillow, punching it, biting it, screaming into it. Being trapped was bad enough, but without Finn it was nearly impossible to endure. Yet, I was happy for him. I hoped he had found what he was looking for.

During daytime, I performed my duties and my training along with the rest of the kids. Under the watchful eyes of the Sliman guards, we trained in martial arts and combat, we were instructed how to use our mental skills to strengthen our bodies, we cleaned and cooked, we received booster shots of who knows what substances and gulped down a handful of pills daily.

We went through numerous tests, exams and presentations of our progress. We learned to read and write. We were disciplined for the smallest failures. Our guards and masters used electricity and invasive lasers on us through some handheld devices called sensory receptors, strong enough to cause terrible pain and fear without permanently harming us or killing us.

But Finn came back for me. He came back to the plantation when I started to believe I’d never see him again. I was almost fifteen at the time and had lost all traces of my childhood.

Finn waited for me in the dorm room I shared with four more girls. He grabbed me from behind as I stepped inside at bedtime and put his hand over my mouth. I was not very social so Finn hoped I would be the first one to rush to bed while the others socialized in the common area. It was the only socializing time we were allowed.

It’s Finn, he said. Don’t scream.

Who? I asked as soon as he released the pressure on my mouth.

He turned me around to show me his face. I knew the face but not the name. I almost let a cry out despite his warning.

Ace! I whispered. Why do you call yourself Finn?

I used to call him Ace and he called me Tick when we were out of earshot. Not fair at all, I know, but it was short for ticklish which I was and am.

He surveyed me from head to toe as if trying to determine whether it was truly little Tick he had in front of him.

No time for explanations, he said at last. We have to get out of here.

Out of here? You mean the plantation? It’s impossible. They’re using rotating scanning cameras now. A lot of things have changed since you left. I paused before I added, "Because you left."

Everything is possible, Tick. Just tell me one thing. Do you trust me?

I looked straight into his green eyes. He had changed. He was taller, more muscular, sunburned. He seemed determined and confident. And he had come back for me.

I do, I said. Show me the way.

We got out through the back window and crawled for about a hundred feet. What we were attempting to do seemed so preposterous, so impossible that I felt my heart was going to jump out of my chest. I expected the Sliman to pounce on us at any moment.

Finn took out a small touchpad device and keyed in a few numbers. The scanning cameras above us stopped rotating and came to a complete standstill.

How did you do that?

A little magic, he said with satisfaction on his muddied face.

Since the new scanning cameras were put in place, the Sliman patrols on the perimeter had lessened. The rotating cameras covered every square inch of the camp within seconds and could sense movement, as well as light and sound. Anything remotely out of the ordinary would be immediately reported to the Director’s office.

With change comes opportunity, Finn would later say of that night. When the plantations beefed up their scanning technology, they relaxed on their physical security measures.

Finn and I stood up and started running towards the electric, twenty-foot fence. I saw an opening that was oddly just big enough for us to fit through. Standing on the other side, I saw what appeared to be the most severe and beautiful girl I had ever seen. Daphne held the wire in her hand. Her long blonde hair shimmered in the night wind. The first time you see Daphne, you never forget it. Her eyes are bright even in the night like a nocturnal creature.

Quick, she said. The electricity will come back at any moment.

We hurried through the opening and I almost bumped into Damian who was standing on the other side. He didn’t even bother to look at me. He and Daphne put the missing piece in its place and fused it back into the fence with lasers. Damian quickly restarted the electric field.

The distant plantation lights began to spin then as I became light-headed. Damian threw me over his shoulder and began to run into the dark forest. He managed somehow to run and stabilize me against his massive shoulder at the same time. I felt like I was floating down a river of trees. The sweat on his neck smelled almost like an exotic fruit. Tangerines, maybe, and then I must have faded off to sleep, calmed more with each stride away from the plantation.

The next thing I remember is entering the camp of the Saviors. They told me I had slept for hours. That’s when I realized Damian’s incredible strength. He had carried me through rough terrain half the night.

I now know that Daphne had hypnotized me but at the time I thought it was being in Damian’s arms that relaxed me enough to fall asleep.

They introduced me to the others but I was overwhelmed. I fell asleep again as the sun came up and slept all day. It was my first freedom sleep and it felt like nothing I had ever dreamed.

When I woke in the evening, the moon shined so brightly down through the tree tops that Finn cast a shadow on the outside of my tent when he approached to check on me. We discussed everything that was on my mind, beginning with his escape and ending with my rescue.

Finn would not answer my final question. He would not tell me how he came to be known as Finn. He said he would show me the next morning.

He took me to an old, half-destroyed building in Lost Town just after dawn. A battle between human and alien forces must have taken place here with every human either dying or being enslaved. For whatever reason, Lost Town was left in its spot to be swallowed up by surrounding woods.

Finn guided me inside the building through the half-open door. Books were scattered everywhere. This place was a library, he explained. He pointed at the numerous volumes on the damaged shelves and he made me be careful not to step on the books piled up on the floor. There were a few books placed on tables he said not to touch. As we walked, I noticed a few books here and there on shelves that stood out. They were cleaner than the rest which were all shrouded in dust and loneliness.

He told me that I could choose any book from the shelves and pick the name I liked the best in it. If I didn’t find anything to my liking, I could move on to the next book and so on.

That would be the start of my new life as a free person.

We’re reborn when we leave the plantations, he said, and every birth requires a new name.

His name had come from a book called The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. He found his book and handed it to me. I asked him why he chose to leave the book in the library, why he hadn’t taken it with him to his tent.

Everything has to remain as it is here, he said. There can be no sign of change. We can never be too careful.

I did not have the heart to tell him that even I had spotted the cleaner books—even his little Tick could spot where the hands of the Saviors had touched.

In theory, he was right. I know now that Sliman scouts can pick up the smallest details. The Saviors had been lucky and had never seen any Sliman in Lost Town and so they returned again and again.

I scanned the shelves for several minutes and ended up with a five-hundred-page book. Mythology, it said on the cover. Finn wasn’t happy with the size of that book but he took me back to the library every day until I finished reading and picked my new name.

I would be Freya, queen of Valkyries and warrior goddess. I had no idea what it all meant. We had no access to history or mythology books at the plantation, but I got hooked immediately, traveling back into worlds long gone, worlds of complete wonder and imagination.

It’s hard to think of Finn and not recall the breeding village as well as my mother, my brother and my two sisters. I can barely remember their features but I carry them with me. We do not know our fathers. The men were housed at the far end of the village and most of them were field laborers.

My brother was three years older than me and so he was harvested when I was four. All of the children got harvested when we reached the age of seven. My two younger sisters must have both been harvested by now, too. My mother would be by herself. Her health was already failing when I was harvested ten years ago and the aliens allow only the fittest to become part of the breeding lab procedures. It’s doubtful they’d let her have more children.

Her face was completely blank when they came to the hut to pick my brother. She planted a kiss on his forehead and told him to be a good boy. Then she returned to her usual business. She mentioned my brother, her son, a couple of times the next morning and then seemed to have moved on.

Her reaction was not a surprise. That’s how adults reacted at the breeding village. They were passive, they didn’t comprehend initiative. They talked only when absolutely necessary in short and simple sentences. They had no care in the world other than performing their daily tasks. The women raised the children they gave birth to after the infants were treated in the labs.

In the library I found a book about zombies once and I immediately thought of the mothers at the breeding village. They had been turned into zombies through some process I wasn’t aware of, doomed to a life devoid of meaning and hope.

We have many theories about this here at the camp. Doc used to participate in lab experiments back at his plantation, Plantation-4. That’s why we call him Doc even though he’s only seventeen like me. He has seen firsthand what the aliens are capable of and how far they are willing to take their experimentations. How they can manipulate genes and DNA to create a new species, like the Sliman mutants, or how they can control minds and desires.

Finn has a theory of his own and it’s called lobotomy. He read it in a medical book at the library. Rabbit asked Finn to stop talking about this in his presence. Deep down Rabbit hopes that he will be able to cure his mother some day of whatever it is that they have done to her and that he will make her a whole person again. He doesn’t want any pieces of her brain missing.

There are so many thoughts going through my head right now to stop me from thinking about the one thing that terrifies me most. Finn’s disappearance.

I reach the Armory with shaking limbs. It is the room where we keep most of our weaponry and our limited ammunition supply, but it is also the place where we hold meetings, both scheduled and unscheduled. We’ve been using the abandoned facilities for the past two years. Our best guess is the place was abandoned because the thick vegetation all around the clearing, where the facilities were built, gets in the way of certain alien frequencies, making communication with the plantations shaky at times.

The aliens picked up and moved about a hundred miles to the south to a newly built and far better equipped headquarters. The bonus is double for us—we can use all the technology that we were able to repair, thanks to the ingenuity of Theo and Zoe, plus we are shielded from the alien radar and other tracking devices which allows us to go about our business unnoticed.

I open the door and enter the meeting. Late of course. My heart soars, then sinks. I think I might be hallucinating. Finn sits on a chair. His face is covered in scratches and dry blood. His shirt is filthy and tattered and his hair messy.

Doc is cutting bandages to wrap Finn’s hands.

Nobody touch him! Doc orders when he sees me. He just got back and I haven’t determined the extent of his injuries yet.

I stay at a safe distance, afraid I won’t be able to control myself and end up hurting Finn more with my affection. Finn, you stupid boy, what did you get yourself into? I ask him.

Finn ignores my concern and chuckles, causing himself a sudden pain. Just that, Tick. Something stupid. I was trying to get to a rare flower and fell down a rock face and into a deep ravine. I lost my touchpad on the way. It took me an eternity to climb back out.

A rare flower? I ask, dumbfounded.

Finn pulls away from Doc and shoves his mangled hand into his pocket. He pulls out a dying and somewhat smashed purple flower. The color is glorious even in its reduced state.

Tilly, one of the younger Saviors, walks to Finn to take a better look at the flower. It’s beautiful, she says. Have you ever seen such color?

I got it for you, Freya, Finn says, locking his eyes on mine.

Oh, I say. A rare flower from a rare idiot.

Damian looks like he wants to say something, but he and Daphne just leave the meeting. Rabbit and Biscuit hurry to join Tilly and me by Finn’s side. It’s hard to yell at him any more while his little admirers surround him.

Tilly forces me to take the flower into my hands. The fact that it’s beautiful and mangled just reminds me of beautiful and mangled Finn. My anger increases. He’ll get himself killed protecting everyone and trying to be thoughtful every second of the day.

What do you think? Finn asks.

I glare into his bright eyes and resist the urge to slap him. You know what I think, I say and storm out of the Armory, still holding his flower.

Chapter 3

Evening is approaching fast and I haven’t had a chance to speak to Finn alone yet. His account of yesterday’s events during the morning meeting still rings in my ears. Finn didn’t quite slip down that ravine after he discovered the purple flower he gave me. He got startled by voices in the trees behind him—Sliman voices. That’s the closest Sliman have ever been to our camp and facilities. This piece of news is as serious as it gets.

It’s getting dark and the heat hasn’t broken yet. The only place that offers relief is the shade of the gigantic red trees behind my tent where the thick part of the forest begins. I sit by the root of one of the older trees, taking in the evening scents and sounds.

Doc startles me a little as he emerges from the shadows. Finn’s fine, he says with a smile. He looks around aimlessly before he adds, He will be just fine.

I nod and start picking at my fingernails. I heard you the first time you said it, you know, I say just to tease him.

You’re right, I’m sorry, he says as he sits down next to me. His dark eyes are as benevolent as ever. Doc is one of the kindest, gentlest people that ever lived. He apologizes even when he hasn’t done anything wrong.

Don’t be sorry, Doc. I’m just teasing you.

Well, you’ll be glad to know that we’re having a training session in a few minutes, he says, looking at my fingernails. You should probably stop biting them. It’s not very hygienic.

Back up, I say. A training session? This late in the day and in this heat?

Don’t shoot the messenger, Doc says, raising his arms in surrender. It wasn’t my idea.

Let me guess. Daphne?

Doc gets up dusting off his pants. Just come to the combat ring, Freya. It’ll be fun.

Training with everyone around is never fun for me as I seem to be the only one with no special skills. I take out my knife and start carving on a piece of wood. I’ve become good at that. I always get good at pointless things.

Not ten minutes go by when I’m startled again by the sound of footsteps on the fallen leaves. I know it can’t be Finn because no one can ever hear Finn coming. He moves like a cat and he’s more flexible than a rubber band. I still wish it could be him somehow, though.

Soon afterward, Damian shows up. Why are you still here? he says, taking a quick glance at the carved wood in my hands that is shaped like a boat.

Yep, this was a bad idea. I should have gone to the training session and just got through it. Instead, I have to explain myself to Damian.

I was about to come and find you, I say, putting the knife in my pocket.

I walk past him, hoping he didn’t come prepared to give me a lecture.

What about your boat? he says.

What? I turn and see my little carved boat in his hand. I don’t want it, I say. I make one every day.

Damian shrugs. Maybe I’ll keep this one.

Suit yourself, I say, rather bewildered that he would care for a badly made toy.

At the combat ring, the Saviors sit down in a circle. Damian plops down right next to Daphne. I quickly check out Finn before I sit next to Zoe. His head and hands are bandaged but he seems to be doing fine otherwise.

So, what’s going on? I say, hoping the response won’t be that they’ve been waiting for me.

Not much, Zoe says. I’m updating the stats before we train.

With that the Saviors get up and make their way to their favorite part of the ring. I linger behind with Zoe who’s finishing up with the stats.

Can I see your updates?

Sure, she says, handing me her touchpad displaying records and charts.

As she moves away, I go through the numbers once before switching to a screen featuring all the Saviors and their separate skills and progress charts.

Rabbit’s name pops up first. Nothing new here. He’s the personification of energy.

Next in line is Scout. I love Scout’s name. She’s fifteen and she didn’t quite pick her name all by herself. Rather, it was a collective decision after the group located the book To Kill a Mockingbird at the library and it was for obvious reasons. Scout can track like a hound. If there’s any mark or scent or print to be found, she’ll find it. She has incredible orientation skills and she can read the stars in the sky like a map.

Biscuit’s name shows up next. He’s fifteen like Scout and he can pick up smells from miles away. Doc says his olfactory nerve is a thing of wonder. Hounds would kill to have it. The only problem with Biscuit’s nose is that the first thing it senses always, always, is food. If there’s food around, he’ll find it. And eat it. Which is not particularly good news for the rest of us.

Doc was trained in medical sciences and biology at Plantation-4. He’s perhaps the most important member of the Saviors as we get ourselves in trouble a lot and he always needs to fix a bone or two.

Nya is an accomplished archer who never misses the target. She loves blowing things up. She always has her shock bow on her back and she even sleeps next to it. Nya is a tall, skinny girl, but wiry strong. Her fiery eyes are dark as coal. Her simulation scores are as legendary as her stubbornness despite being only sixteen.

Tilly is fourteen and has enhanced vision and hearing. Doc says it’s as if they put special nerve implants in her brain when she was a baby. Tilly likes to talk and I like to listen to her talk.

Zoe and Theo are the reason why we set up camp here and why we were able to utilize all the technology and devices we found at the abandoned facilities: solar energy panels, computers, touchpad radars, simulators, satellite control systems, electromagnetic accelerators, high-energy liquid lasers.

Theo is a sixteen-year-old tech genius, trained to operate and create digital systems and devices.

Zoe is eighteen and she knows everything when it comes to science and math. Her brain works at speeds so high, we watch for steam coming out of her skull. Zoe and Theo escaped from Plantation-1 together.

Zoe and Daphne are close friends. Maybe because they’re both eighteen. Maybe because Zoe admires Daphne’s strength. Or maybe I’ll never know why.

We all know how to fight, some of us better than others. We have learned how to survive under dire conditions. But we’re nothing without each other. We’d just be stray animals living day to day.

Our rigorous training started in the plantations for reasons that we cannot fathom. The alien directors wanted us human slaves fit, strong and intelligent, but then one-by-one the older slaves began to be removed from the plantations between the ages of seventeen and nineteen.

We know that at least some were sent back to the villages to begin their lobotomized lives, hardly remembering anything of their past and having given up any free will. But we are still clueless as to what happens to the rest.

I join the training session reluctantly. Finn throws a pulse gun at me which I catch in midair.

There’s not much I can do today, he says. Doc is watching me like a hawk. He insists I need to take it easy. Do you want to practice target shooting?

I shrug. Why not? I’m not sure I’m completely over my frustration at him risking his life all the time but Finn, unlike Daphne, never turns these things into a contest. He will allow me to train at my own pace.

I take aim and do surprisingly well hitting the target maybe ninety percent of the time. Finn pats me on the shoulder but I can’t find it in me to offer him a smile. I’ve always felt a little of an outcast when it comes to exhibiting my skills.

Among the Saviors, I’m the only one who had to be saved. Everybody else found a way to escape on their own from the plantations. They had the courage to believe and act upon that faith.

I don’t know how or when the rumors started, and I doubt anybody does, but there had been whispers on the plantations for a long time about secret bands of fugitives who lived free in the woods and mountains.

As far as we know, we’re the only fugitive band in the whole plantation district. There might be others in the world. I hope there are, but we’ve never heard of them. We’re always on the lookout for more fugitives. The last one we located was Scout and that was ten months ago.

After training, we sit around a bonfire to eat and discuss things like improving security and patrolling schedules which could be crucial with the information that Finn has provided.

Theo and Zoe have been preparing their presentation of the new simulated battle they have designed on their touchpads.

Finn takes advantage of the quiet moment to come and sit by me.

Have you completely forgiven me yet? he says.

I move my head slowly back-and-forth for an exaggerated no.

Okay, then what percentage have I been forgiven?

I lift my eyes up to his. You can’t charm your way out of everything, Finn.

"There’s something