Chapter One: Aspen

Chapter One

~ Aspen ~

“Are you ready?”

It was an easy question, but one I didn’t know the answer to. Was I ready now? No, not really. Would I ever be? I didn’t know. All I knew was that being honest wasn’t an option. Not being prepared was even less acceptable. 

“Yeah, dad.” I let a small sigh slip. “I’m ready.”

He nodded in approval and squared his shoulders. He was shutting off any last glimmering speck of humanity inside himself before walking through those doors. Did I need to do the same? Could I? They were still people, even if they were sick. He was always so cold when talking about them. I thought maybe they could use some gentleness, but my opinions didn’t really matter yet. He was the one singlehandedly running this Initiative, and I was just his daughter. 

Dad led the way through the heavy mahogany doors. My eyes widened at the size of the room as I followed closely behind him. Of all my years imagining what could possibly be inside this room, I never pictured it being this spacious. There was a large table, shaped like a U, that took up most of the space. If it were full, it could easily seat at least forty people. Right now, there were about ten. The walls were a creamy white and devoid of any decorations. It all felt very empty. 

“Gabriel.” My dad’s right-hand man, Matthew, greeted us both in the entryway. 

“Matthew,” He nodded in acknowledgement. “Is everyone present?” 

I tuned them both out as they discussed the itinerary for the meeting. It was the first I’d ever been invited to, and to say I was nervous would be a major understatement. I was supposed to fill dad’s shoes one day but had no idea what he really did. I still don’t. But after weeks of practically begging, he agreed to bring me to some of his meetings. I was thrilled at the time, but at this point my insecurities were getting the better of me. In everyone’s eyes, I was nothing but an annoying kid who had too many questions. What they didn’t see is how driven I was or how eager I was to learn the ins and outs of this initiative. I was more than ready to take on some responsibilities, I just needed the opportunity to show them that. 

“Aspen.” 

I was forced back into the present at the harsh snap of my name. 

“Yes?” I was quick to focus all my attention on him. I didn’t want to seem like I wasn’t fully invested in this. I could see the disappointment in his stormy blue eyes at my slip-up and decided it wouldn’t happen again. I needed to up my game.

“We’re ready to begin.” 

I nodded in understanding and took the seat he gestured to. I was at the end of one of the straight sides of the table, far away from everyone else. The message was clear. I was not to speak up or be involved in this meeting. I was simply here to listen. The realization made my shoulders slump slightly, but I shouldn’t have expected anything more. I wouldn’t be allowed to help out for a while, and I needed to be grateful that I was given anything at all.

Nothing huge was discussed. At least nothing that I hadn’t already heard. Dad talked about increasing defenses in the holding facility and ways to make collecting easier. They went over numbers and milestones that we’ve hit so far this year. It was all very boring and I didn’t care about any of it. What I wanted to do was help people. I wanted to work directly with the sick and make an impact on their recovery. I never got to see the transformation take place, but that’s what I was most curious about. 

I’d brought it up to dad plenty of times. He always had the same excuse. I was too young, too inexperienced, and my time would come. I had to accept it because he was in charge, but I couldn’t wait until I would finally be allowed to help. The meeting wrapped up and I was ordered to return to my chores. Dad called them “duties” to make it sound more official, but I knew I wasn’t getting any more privileges than the next kid. I made my way through the cold and lifeless hallways of dad's office building. The Initiative had gotten so big that they’d built a whole new structure to house its employees, which is pretty cool. He refused to decorate it, even with all my pestering, so it looked more like a prison to me. 

My lungs greedily took in the fresh air once I made it outside. I decided a pit stop at home before starting my chores couldn’t hurt. We lived only a short walk from dad's office because he was a man of practicality, so it wouldn’t take long. I soaked up the sights around me as I went. People-watching was hands down one of my favorite pastimes. I glanced at all the wandering strangers and wondered if any of them were secretly sick. My stomach tightened at the thought. 

Dad tried to help all the people he could. The government had been enrolling as many as possible into the initiative since before I even knew that this kind of sickness existed. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, they didn’t ask to be born with something so life-altering and huge...nevertheless, it was our duty to help them get rid of it. It was my duty, too, because even if I couldn’t cure myself, I needed to try for others. 

I shook my head to clear it of those kinds of thoughts as I approached the house. Briefly glancing into my pocket helped me fish out the keys to my front door, and it was popped open in no time. Rustling echoed from the kitchen as I stopped to slide my shoes off. 

“Mom?” I called but got no answer. The noise stopped. “You’re not trying to cook again, are you?”

The smile dropped from my lips the moment I rounded the corner into our spacious kitchen. I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart plummeting into my stomach. It wasn’t my mom looking back at me, but someone I once thought I’d never see again. She was standing only a few feet away from me now, her hip resting against my granite covered island. My lips opened and closed a few times as I struggled to find an appropriate greeting. She looked so much like the little girl in my memories, the best friend I’d left behind nearly ten years ago, but so different at the same time. 

Her hair had taken on a deeper, more vibrant red color than it had when we were kids. Right now, it was pulled away from her face in a loose knot at the base of her neck. Her eyes had changed, too. They were no longer a light, airy match for the sky, but had somehow grown brighter and more striking. They were hardened, with a fiery passion raging behind them. And they were trained on me. Besides that, she looked every bit the person I’d been forced to say goodbye to all those years ago. Only one coherent thought managed to break through the fog that had taken up my brain.  

What the hell could she want?