Away From the Dark (The Light #2)(13)

Even in the summer, the outside air at the Northern Light held a chill. I found myself longing for the oppressive Michigan humidity I used to detest.

Somehow I learned to shut off the old me when I was with Jacob. I’m not sure how I did it, but I did. I concentrated on him, on us. Whenever the old me tried to break through, I became hyperalert, fearing a change in Jacob’s expression, afraid he could see my internal battle raging. Maybe it was simply paranoia, or perhaps it was real. Either way, I worried constantly that I’d give myself away.

My other battles came around female followers. As time passed I deduced that those women who recalled the dark, like Elizabeth, had come to The Light of their own volition, while others, like Dinah and Mary—Mindy—had come as I had, forced to accept a life they couldn’t question.

As we all pressed our fingers into the prayer sponge and I contemplated our lack of fingerprints, the women in the morgue fueled my desire to leave The Light. The world needed to know what was happening.

I was an investigative journalist. Fate had somehow given that job to me. I had the responsibility not only to expose this travesty but also to rescue my sisters and the children of The Light.

While I used to look forward to my visits to the day care, now entering the doors and seeing the small trusting faces broke my heart. The babies and children hadn’t chosen this life. They were prisoners behind the campus’s walls as much as we all were. I couldn’t decide about the men. I wanted to ask whether they’d all come freely, or whether any of them were here as the result of an “accident.” Of course I couldn’t.

As days passed, the old me found ways to glean information.

I spoke less and listened more. As Jacob spoke to other men, I bowed my head and took in as much as I could. While I sat quietly at the coffee shop, retrieved our groceries, or did laundry, I listened. Since we’d all been trained to leave the dark in the past, I learned little about that, but I did pick up other things.

At one point Raquel mentioned medications. When I first woke, I had been given many of them. I didn’t want to ask in front of Elizabeth, but the simple comment that I might not have noticed before now had me wondering. Did The Light possess medication that made us more adaptable—more accepting? Obviously they had something that had taken away my memories while allowing new memories form. Since the only medication I had taken regularly after leaving the hospital had been birth control, I concluded that in those pills was where I’d been receiving the memory suppressant. It wasn’t until I stopped taking the birth control and after the medication had time to leave my system that my memories came back. If The Light could do that, then I assumed that anything was possible.

Since the return of my memories, I was constantly on edge. Though I’d been pretty diligent, speaking about my birth control was one of the glaring mistakes I’d made. Thankfully it had occurred with Raquel. I told myself that I could chalk it up to the building stress or perhaps a sense of friendship, but whatever the cause, once the words were out of my mouth, I feared the worst and prayed for the best.

I hadn’t meant to say anything.

With each such instance, my fear and paranoia grew.

I had a plan.

I would leave the Northern Light with Jacob.

Over a month ago I’d mentioned that I wanted to travel with him. That was what I’d wanted, then—to spend more time with him. Now I wanted to get away. He’d never told me that he’d petitioned the Commission; however, one day at the lab, Brother Benjamin let it slip.

My plan was to leave with Jacob. I didn’t care where he took me. I didn’t care whether it was to Fairbanks for supplies—he did that often—or to another campus. I’d already deduced that the Eastern Light was Highland Heights. No matter whether it was the Western or Eastern Light, wherever we went had to be less remote than the circumpolar North.

Once Jacob flew me to another destination, my plan was simple: I’d find a phone and call for help.

As days and nights passed, I contemplated whom I would call. I considered my parents, Bernard, and Dylan. No matter how I looked at it, Dylan was the best possible alternative.

I recalled an Internet thread I’d found while researching The Light. It was about a woman who claimed to have been taken by a cult.

Even today that word sent shivers down my spine.

The woman on the thread claimed that the authorities didn’t believe she’d been held against her will. They claimed her story was tainted because she’d abused illegal drugs before her abduction. I hadn’t. I reasoned that my story would be more believable. And even if local authorities didn’t believe me, Dylan would, and he was a detective. More than that, I couldn’t wait to let him know that I was alive.

The last memory I had of my old life was from late October of last year.

As I sat in service and listened to Father Gabriel preach, it took all my control to smile, nod, and bow my head. What I really wanted to do was scowl and ask how he could do this to so many people—people who not only followed but also trusted him.

With each passing minute, the truth became clearer. I needed to get out of here!





CHAPTER 7


Sara/Stella

It was morning, and Jacob had already left for the hangar. He’d told me that he was heading to the Western Light and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. The pressure to gain freedom was mounting. With our breakfast dishes clean and more than an hour before I needed to report to the lab, I decided to take a walk. Each day the weather was warmer. Though I hoped the fresh air would help clear my head, I’d also become addicted to exploring and witnessing the community through my new perspective.