The Remedy Files: Rebirth: The Remedy Files, #2

By Lauren Eckhardt

Book #2 of The Remedy Files Trilogy 

In this sequel to The Remedy Files: Illusion, Evangeline finds herself a prisoner in a new community called Revival after her abduction from Rebirth. Equally cold and filled with unfeeling people who don't know life in any other way, Revival sets the direction for The New World. Evangeline's brief encounter with the very-much-alive Gavin has her questioning his integrity and true role in their history together. In Revival, Evangeline learns The New World has determined that people with natural intuition and precognition are of special use to them, the exact abilities identified in Evangeline, Gavin, and most of those in Rebirth who can warn when bad events are about to occur. But after discovering Gavin's traitorous acts, new alliances must be formed, and Evangeline has a different mission in mind. People deserve to have choices and to feel, and Evangeline won't stop fighting until Revival reinstates basic human rights. It starts with getting everyone in Rebirth on board. Then saving Impetus and the other communities once and for all, regardless of Revival's—and Gavin's—attempts to stop her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Burning Soul Press
• Release date: Oct 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9781950476091

Book preview

1

It’s been three days, and he hasn’t visited.

Three days since they wheeled me into that stony conference room. The only windows in it giving way to the tall glass buildings reflecting the same coldness. Hundreds of empty seats separated the place where my wheelchair rested and the crescent-shaped conference table loomed. Twelve people sat around it. The only one I recognized was Gavin. How could I not? That face. I know every detail. I barely notice the stockier man in a black suit next to him wearing similar attire to the ones who infiltrated Rebirth. That realization didn’t register until I was back in my room and replayed the scene in my mind. Because all I could see was Gavin. What should have been a ghost. But he was as real as every person in there. As real as the men who jammed a syringe in my neck to drug me and drag me here on a very real train that had only once existed in my dreams.

Everything is real. That much I’ve realized.

It’s been three days since Gavin glanced up, his eyes grazing the top of my head––not even man enough to look at me directly, just to mutter, Yes, that’s her. That’s Evangeline.

Me? Me? What’s me? What are you talking about? Why won’t you look at me? Just look at me! I screamed despite the hoarseness of my throat. It ached, but his changed disposition hurt most. Especially when he was supposed to be dead.

Gavin isn’t dead.

He is alive and was sitting right in front of me as though he didn’t know me, as though he wasn’t my best friend of twelve years. As though he wasn’t the man that kissed me only days before like he couldn’t live without me.

I had wiggled in my chair, fighting to get out from the straps holding me back. I needed to get out and make him look at me. I wanted to grab his face and force those ocean-blue eyes into mine. But the green-eyed nurse quickly wheeled me out of the room, hushing me under her breath until we made it to my room or prison cell or whatever this is designed to be. She rapidly tapped her foot against the floor until the second nurse made it back to help. Then they reversed every move they did to get me out of bed in the first place. I remained limp, refusing to move, purposely doubling the difficulty in their efforts, and waited for the click of the door followed by subsequent beeps of it locking.

It’s been three days of confusion and solitude only to come to the most prominent and painful conclusion.

Gavin is a traitor.

Was he laughing with these people? Scheming what else they could do to further trick the people of Impetus? What was the point? Is it their form of the glass box, of psychological torture? Pretend to rescue someone from one lie just to throw them into another. It’s the ultimate method to break someone. To make them no longer trust anything or anyone around them. To feel as though their grip from reality is slipping because all they’ve known is shattering glass. But why? What is their intention?

Regardless, I won’t let them win.

Where are we? Why am I still here? Where are my friends? I repeat the same questions every time I see the green-eyed nurse. The brown-eyed nurse turns my stomach for reasons I can’t peg.

Each time, she ignores me.

Until today.

You need to stop asking me, she says so low that the hum of the vents in the walls almost drowns her out. But I hear her when she leans over to smooth out my bedsheet, her lips unmoving like a ventriloquist behind that loose medical mask she wears, as though she could catch something from me. Like I’m diseased. As though I’m not equal to her.

We’re nothing but puppets to them, don’t you see that? In all the confusion, that much is clear. We are all pawns in a larger conspiracy in which we have no control.

You don’t know anything yet, she hisses back. You keep your mouth shut unless asked to speak.

I can’t trust anyone here. I don’t even know where I am, but they operate by drugging people unconscious and taking them by force, and that’s the only confirmation I need.

All I know is that I’m in a different community. One that has eerily-tall buildings, with views higher than the Lightstones in Impetus, opposite of what they taught us about the survival need to stay close to the ground. Even more proof that this life is all a sham. Lies. Nothing but lies fed to me since the time I was born.

Maybe this is the same community that feeds supplies to Rebirth and food to Impetus. This world is bigger than they want us to know. Why do they work so hard to keep its existence a secret?

And who are they?

An ache is jumpstarted in my heart, as though suddenly electrocuted back to life. The creases on the sides of Liam’s eyes when he smiles, a dimple forming on one cheek when he’s coy. Marlena’s laugh reverberating off the trees as we make decorations out of random leftover pieces salvaged from the weekly supply deliveries in Rebirth. Where are they? If they’re out there still, why haven’t they come for me?

Unless these people hurt them. The fancily-dressed men, out of place in the middle of a forest and armed with syringes. They got Liam. I remember it. I saw him fall to the ground as he ran to save me. Did they leave him or harm him?

Nothing adds up, especially Gavin at that conference table as though he’s someone of importance. Why would Gavin have rescued us from torture in Impetus just to have me kidnapped and brought here?

None of this makes sense.

Ultimate confusion. That’s what their goal is. I can feel it. All designed to break me down, to make me turn crazy until they swoop in and mold my mind into what they want it to be.

I’ll crack then if that’s what they want.

I grab my head, pulling strands of my hair through my hands, grateful for the ability to feel the discomfort, one pain exchanged for another. Then I scream through the gutturalness, the aches, the mourning of Jacqueline and Gavin, friendships that were my world now irrevocably changed. And the confusion of Mr. Frank. Oh, Mr. Frank. If I were able to feel in Impetus, I would have realized how much I grew to care about him. I can’t wrap my mind around his demise. He turned evil. In slow motion, I see the rise of the machete in his hand at he brings it down and strikes Gavin in the head. The drop of Mr. Frank’s jaw as the first bullets of Liam’s gun strike his chest. The way he crumples to the ground like Gavin did, blood pooling between them. It’s a horror movie on repeat that I can’t turn off.

Gavin couldn’t have survived a machete attack. Not the one I witnessed, the one that replays in my nightmares when I wake up drenched in sweat, begging to rid myself of that haunting memory. But if he is still alive, is Mr. Frank too?

And why are they here, wherever this is? Three days and I have no more answers than what I came in with.

I continue to scream, the confusion and the pain seeping through spit molecules in the air. Tugging my hair, I let it all out from deep inside my stomach, through my chest, up my throat, out past my vibrating lips like a wounded lion’s roar.

And just like that lion realizing he is abandoned in the jungle, I realize no one is coming. No one is concerned that I’m screaming. No one is worried that something’s wrong.

It’s like Impetus all over again. No one seems able to care.

A world without feelings.

I refuse to live like that again.

The pond. It’s filled with blood. There’s an outline of an animal underneath it. As though the animal is under the water, trying to break through a sheet of ice. I lean down to get a closer look, but the scent is revolting. I pull back and put my hand to my nose, but that’s just as rancid. The smell is everywhere now. Or maybe it’s just on me.

You’ll carry everyone’s blood. Mr. Frank, rises out of the pond slowly, his voice sweet and smooth as it always was, thick crimson dripping down his face, a machete in his hand. It’ll all be on you now.

As he rises higher, the blood drips off his face, sagging skin peels away, the gray hair and wrinkles giving way to Gavin’s young features underneath. His strong jawline and the dimple in his chin are such boyish features, but he’s never been much of a boy. The secrets he carries aged him.

I don’t want anyone else to die. I never meant for anyone to get hurt. My whimper sounds strange, part animal, like a beast beaten down.

You shall pay. There’s always a sacrifice.

I’ll be it. As long as no one else gets hurt.

Gavin takes a step closer, the machete still in the hand that transformed from Mr. Frank’s to Gavin’s. Oh, how honorable of you. He slashes the machete at the air, swoop, swoop, then twirls about in a showman fashion.

Who are you? I whisper, unsure what I’m witnessing. This is not Gavin.

You were wiser when they forced you to stay quiet. You thought for yourself instead of relying on others to give you the answers. My mistake was giving you the power to ask questions. He slides the blade across my cheek. Hmm, what I give, I can take away.

He leans in closer, guiding the machete down my neck, and gives a cutting laugh. Birds caw from a distance.

No, no, he retreats, Let’s play a new game. It’s called consequences. I’ll give you two chances to get it right. He points the machete at two small gray cages on the other side of the pond. The moment you ask a question, they die. Two questions, then no more annual digs for you. No more treasure finds.

Who dies? Who’s in there? Why are you doing this? This isn’t you. I plead for the real Gavin to return.

A dark storm fills his once-magnificent, marine eyes. Two questions so soon? You failed. You’re a terrible gameplayer, he growls. It’s too bad. One I was quite fond of, and she’s pretty to boot. The other should have been gone the moment you laid eyes on him. That’s my second mistake.

Marlena and Liam, my lips are trembling so hard that their names barely escape.

"Their blood is now on you. It’s adding up quickly. In fact, you don’t have enough blood on you yet. Let’s fix that." He presses the machete against my neck and pulls me backward into the sour, blood-filled pond. His grip tightens as the blade cuts into my skin. We sink deeper into the thick stickiness of a world that no longer is, and of people who no longer can jointly exist.

---

I pull sweat-soaked covers off my skin so I can breathe. Once I catch my breath, I slide out of bed and try the door. Locked. Of course it is. I hit it with the palm of my hand and it barely makes a ding in the silence.

Pouring water from the pitcher on the bedside table, I down it by the cup-full until it’s empty. Dents are worn into the edges and sides of the cup as though someone tried to use it to beat the door down and escape. Smart. I wonder if they made it out alive.

The cold tile brings relief to my sticky skin. I lie down on the floor like I once did in Impetus on nights I couldn’t sleep. Perhaps I need to sleep on the floor here. Maybe the dreams can’t reach me this far down. I don’t want another one. They’re getting worse. I can’t see Gavin like that again.

My nightmares have transformed into a different storyline each night I’ve been here. There’s a bit more than the time before, like a movie slowly developing. No longer the exact visual of what happened when Liam dragged me away from Gavin and Mr. Frank’s bodies as bullets were fired at us. It’s changing. Very similar to the course of dreams I had while living in Impetus.

I didn’t realize it at the time of those dreams, but they were reflective of what was coming. Things happening out in the world that I had no clue about. Yet somehow my mind knew. I was once positive that Gavin had been feeding me bits and pieces of information that subconsciously fed into those visions.

But this time he’s not even talking to me. He’s not feeding me information.

It’s all my mind. It’s trying to tell me something. Last time it took me far too long to figure it out. But now Remedy is out of my system. I’m more clear-headed.

This time will be different.

I’ll make sure of it.

2

Ahand touches my arm. Gently. I don’t move. I know it’s one of the nurses, the only two allowed in my room since I arrived. If I grab her wrist and twist it, and add a kick to her windpipe from my position on the bed, I can bring her down. Liam taught me how to defend myself. Wrap the straps around her throat. Tie her down. Threaten her. Force her to tell me how to get out of here. Ask her if they have Liam and Marlena too. Rescue them. Get out of here. Find the others from Rebirth. Run from Gavin.

It’s a plan. I can do this.

It’s bath time. You have to get ready before your meeting.

I pop an eye open. Meeting?

No questions. Just get going.

Is it with Gavin?

No questions.

Her tone assaults the pit of my stomach. I lived for eighteen years without asking questions. I’ll ask every question I want, I challenge her.

If you were wise, she sneers, you would not be so foolish.

"You cannot take away my rights! I can ask questions just like I can feel everything. You can’t take that away from me. You cannot take that away!" Hysteria has taken the reins. I’m breaking. Just like they want me to.

She grips my wrist, her nails digging into my skin. You need to calm down, she instructs again without moving her lips. It’s the first time she’s been here without a mask. They have cameras. If they see you’re unstable, they won’t give you a chance. Play their game.

But—

"You’re as stubborn as he said you were. If you want to get out of here, play their game." The nurse tightens her warm grip again before releasing me.

There’s something about the strength in her fingers that make me reconsider. Something familiar, like recalling a favorable memory that I can’t quite bring to the surface.

Do I know you? I whisper because suddenly I don’t want to fight her. I think she may actually be on my side. Whatever side I’m on. Whatever this is. Whatever I need to prepare to battle.

Before she has a chance to respond, the second nurse barges in.

What’s taking so long? Her voice sounds like it belongs in the dark, creeping in the shadows, waiting to seep its fangs in the neck of vulnerability.

It’s the first question I’ve heard from another person. Maybe questions aren’t forbidden here. Except from prisoners like me.

We’re leaving now.

The green-eyed nurse handcuffs me to her arm. Despite my realization that I might be able to trust her, I still envision the moves I could make to escape. The twist of my body, an elbow to her face, a kick to the back of her knee, wrapping the handcuff chain around her neck.

But even though I’m strapped to the green-eyed nurse, all I can imagine is doing it to the brown-eyed nurse.

There’s a reason…

And there it is again, the profound truth inside. Pieces of a puzzle forming. I have to stay two steps ahead.

The brown-eyed nurse grabs my other shoulder, her fingers grazing my collarbone, sending chills down my spine. A flash of a vision. Water. Her hair matted against her forehead with veins popping out underneath. Cheekbones protruding. A snarl on her lips. A chipped front tooth. I’ve never seen her lips, let alone her teeth. But there’s suddenly no doubt in my mind that she has a chipped tooth.

I shiver, and she grips tighter. How is it possible for her fingers to feel like ice?

What is wrong with you? she snaps.

Her body is still adjusting to physical feelings. You know this, the green-eyed nurse defends me. I’m surprised, but I don’t look at her to acknowledge it. We’re not on a team.

We walk down the hallway, the nurses’ slippered shoes silent while my bare feet slap against the floor, suctioning from the sweat that reflects my nerves, betraying any attempts to portray resilience.

In the bathroom, they pull one arm through the waist of my shirt before handcuffing me to the bath rail, leaving me to undress and lower myself into the warm soapy water without breaking a limb. It’s only my second bath since I’ve been here. At least they seem to respect privacy here, the only room camera-free.

The nurses leave one of my hands free so I can clumsily wash myself, the green-eyed nurse squeezing soap into my hand when I stick it out on the other side of the curtain. The brown-eyed nurse stands outside the wall, tapping her foot. She’s like Pauline from Impetus, the twitching, the never-ending dancing foot.

After I towel-dry my body and get dressed, I keep quiet and absorb my surroundings as they walk me to the dressing chair. Everything is pristine. No cracks, no holes, no dents, no scuffs on the various white and gray walls. Anything this cosmetically flawless tells me that genuine feelings, the heartbeat of life, are not found here. No love, no excitement, no fun––all of those sentiments leave marks behind, proof that the emotions are more important than appearance. It was the difference of Rebirth from Impetus that won me over despite the lack of modern conveniences like plumbing and solar-charged lights. But this place is even more immaculate than Impetus. Nothing good can come out of that.

The green-eyed nurse brushes my hair, surprisingly with the same tenderness of Marlena when she did it for the very first time. I close my eyes and lean into it, remembering how new Rebirth felt then, how unsure of everything I was at the time. Then I got comfortable there. And somehow things have elevated a thousand times since that moment only months ago, and I find myself somewhere unfamiliar once again.

That’s good enough. Let’s go. The brown-eyed nurse is more demanding. She also seems to carry more control. Or, maybe trying to seize the control.

We walk down the same hallway that led me to Gavin last time. This time I’m not in a wheelchair, though. I eye the door of the large conference room, wondering if Gavin is still behind it. My stomach flutters at the thought of seeing him again, adrenaline surging at the idea of his voice delivering the answers I seek. I spent almost every day since I was six years old talking to him. He’s my own version of a drug, and apart from this horrible realization that he may have been deceiving me, I still crave him. Three days is not long enough to kick a lifetime of an addiction.

In the final moment before entering the conference room, we turn left and stop in front of a plain white door with a basic knob and lock. No need to scan their wrists here. The green-eyed nurse opens it and walks me through the threshold while the brown-eyed nurse stays outside.

Inside is an oversized chamber with only two standard chairs. A woman sits stoically in one of the them, watching me. The other remains empty.

This room is similar to the one where I first saw Gavin, except severely void of anything important. An enormous glass window exhibits a cloudy day in the background that pushes haze from one towering structure to another. The floor-to-ceiling and wall-to-wall design gives the impression of being one with the open sky, but the interior is suffocating. Mahogany velvet covers the other walls. No other furniture, no decorations on the walls, nothing to protect myself with should I need it. I suppose that’s the purpose. Nothing to attack this woman with. She’s safeguarding herself.

She nods to the nurse who unlocks my handcuffs, taking them with her as she disappears behind the door and closes it gently. No locks this time. It’s unfortunate that I have gotten used to hearing the clicks of captivity again when once I had found freedom. Yet it’s been stolen from me for the second time. How can something crucial to humanity be given and removed so easily by others? I was not created to be owned by them.

The woman’s red lips form into a thin line as her eyes move up and down and side to side, analyzing every inch of my frame. I feel inclined to squirm under her scrutiny but I keep my feet planted and my body rigid. Then her eyes land on mine. I’ve never seen such pure, crystal blue eyes. Her hair falls in cascading waves that frame her face; a reddish tint highlights the brunette strands when she cocks her head to the side.

Evangeline. We finally meet. She rises from the chair and glides toward me. With a delicate hand extended, she articulates, I am Rebecca.

I ignore her hand, inspecting her as she did me. Her shoes aren’t exactly flat; they’re not the heels I was forced to wear for the Futures Ceremony, nor are they the boots that are more native to me than my own soles. I don’t know what to call them, but they arch as they run from toe to heel like melded to her feet and add inches to her height. Her tan loose skirt touches the top of her shoes and stops just below her waist where it cinches around a white short-sleeved shirt. Her clothes are plain compared to the vibrant colors worn by the women I noticed outside when the train first arrived. Apparently, the fashion choices here are broader than Impetus.

Rebecca drops her hand and chuckles. He did say you were exactly like him. How about we sit? She turns before I can answer and strolls to the chair casually.

She’s trying to pique my interest. She wants me to ask if she’s talking about Gavin. She’s trying to find a conversation point, a dangling bait to capture me into her web. I won’t bite.

I’ve heard a lot about you. There’s no inflection in her voice. It’s steadied, trained.

I stare at her and don’t move from my spot.

If you want to stand there all day, that’s fine. I have nothing else that’s as important as you. I want you to trust me. I will do whatever it takes to establish that bridge between us.

My silence breaks with a snort. Hmph, says the woman who sent men with syringes to kidnap me and imprisoned me for three days.

Rebecca clicks her tongue. You have to see it from our perspective, Evangeline. After what you had been through in Impetus, you wouldn’t have willingly followed us. Not right away. We did what we had to do. Besides, it is much safer here than in that Rebirth community Gavin stubbornly insists on keeping fluid.

Rebecca keeps mentioning him. She’s using our one mutual connection to build rapport. I refuse to acknowledge him despite the burning in my chest to know more, to find out how he got out alive, to ask how long he’s been a traitor to the community he created.

You’ve had me locked up in a room or isolated with handcuffs on. That doesn’t exactly scream confidence in a budding new relationship.

We had to verify that Remedy was fully out of your system. Once we confirmed that it was, we needed assurance you wouldn’t act irrationally before understanding the truth.

Talking to me in the beginning would have helped with that! Not keeping me isolated from the facts! My voice rises to an unnatural tone before I can control it. It’s the first time I’ve had a real conversation in three days. My emotions are bubbling in the worst of ways as the desperation rises to know what’s happening back in Rebirth.

This isn’t our first time bringing someone in. We’ve made mistakes, and we’ve learned from them. This is the best tried-and-true method.

Making someone into a prisoner?

Oh, my dear child. You only want to believe you’re a prisoner because you’re associating it with your other, much darker experiences in life.

Handcuffs are for prisoners.

Okay, how about we pull back a few steps, mmm? She rests her elbows on her knees and leans forward. Let’s start from the beginning. What can I answer for you to prove that this is a safe environment?

A hundred questions