Page 26 of Dissent

“Yes. I’ll contact Dr. Jones and authorize the procedure.”

“Alright. Come on,MissMara.” Her tone was mocking, but I ignored it.

“Wait, I have more questions—”

Sasha shook her head. “Unfortunately, child, this is all the time I have for now. And it is truly imperative that your implant be removed promptly.”

“But I—”

“I know you have more questions, and Iwillanswer them, but they can wait.” She pointed to my arm. “Thisis a priority right now.” She looked at Chelsea and Matias, giving them a quick nod.

I pursed my lips in disappointment, but I could tell that I wouldn’t get anywhere with her. I inhaled deeply as I stood and then followed my newposseout.

As Chelsea guided me through the camp, the reality of my surroundings struck me once more. Who would have thought that trees would be so beautiful…andmassive?In Telvia, everything was plastic, more plastic, concrete, and then just more plastic. Literally none of it was real. From the grass at Central Park, to the elms, oaks, and palm trees—it was fake. All fake. But here…oh my god, it was breathtaking. And thesmell! I couldn’t even begin to really describe it because I had never smelled anything like it before.

But as entranced as I was by the scenery, I was feeling more and more overwhelmed. In twenty-four hours, my life had completely turned upside down. I had lost Chase. My parents wanted me dead. I’d run away from home, was kidnapped by rebels, and discovered my mother was a Dissenter. Oh yeah,and who could forget that I just signed up to join the rebel cause! It was just too much, the whole thing making me feel dizzy. What was I going to do?

Lost in thought, it surprised me when I realized I was back at the medical tent. An older man, probably in his fifties, awaited us inside. His salt and peppered hair, along with the lines of wrinkles on his forehead, told me he’d lived a stressed life. He was dressed in a surgical gown. Just looking at him made me feel queasy and my skin itchy.

“That’s her,” Chelsea pointed back to me before sauntering over to a chair and slumping into it.

“All right, I’ll need you to come sit. Are you squeamish?”

“Am I what?” It caught me by surprise. My brain was still trying to process everything, and I was feeling disoriented.

“Squeamish,” he repeated. “Are you going to pass out at the sight of blood?” He didn’t give me a chance to respond before he was waving his hands at me and huffing. He ushered me to sit in a chair that was already prepared next to him. “Never mind. I don’t have time for this. Just sit down and look away.” Before I knew what was going on, I was being pulled and pushed into the chair. He grabbed my left arm and straightened it onto a metal table set at my left side. Twisting my arm, he exposed the underside of my wrist. “I’ll need you to hold still.” After a quick swipe with an alcohol wipe, he picked up a scalpel next to a syringe on a tray next to him. As the light caught the sharpened blade, it glimmered.

“Wait a minute, aren’t you going to numb me or something?”

“This is the rebellion,MissMara.” Chelsea’s voice was caustic. “Poor rich girl afraid of a little pinch?”

“Come on, Chelsea,” a third voice chastised. I looked to see Matias, who had been hovering in the background, coming forward. “Give her a break.”

I glanced at Chelsea, her jaw dropping as her posture stiffened. But it wasn’t there long. Her cheeks flushed, and I watched as she stuffed her hands in her pockets and tipped her chin down, hiding her face.

“Don’t mind her,” Matias went on as I turned to face him again. “This will hurt, but we don’t have many resources here on base, and we need to save those analgesics for our wounded in the field. Take my hand.” Kneeling down on my right, he didn’t wait for my agreement before scooping my hand into his. I looked at our clasped hands and then back at his face, only a foot away from mine. And I saw him—reallysaw him—for the first time. His brown eyes were large and deep and…beautiful. His soft facial features were gentle, with a light speckling of freckles dusting the bridge of his nose and both his cheeks. They were so light that I would have missed them had his face not been so close to my own. And his smell…it was completely different from what I was used to. All the guys at the academy, my brother, even Chase, had this cologne that radiated wealth and sophistication. But this…this was different. It was citrusy and wooded, deep and light, sharp and gentle, all at the same time. My attention drifted to his hair, a little longer than how most of the boys kept theirs in Telvia, with slight waves. The dark brown locks matched his eyes. Then, he gave me a gentle smile, one that reminded me of Chase.

Chase.

The sudden memory of Chase’s burning face captured my mind, and my vision blurred as tears glassed over my eyes. “Shh…it’s okay. I’ll help you.” Mistaking my tears for fear, Matias squeezed my hand and cupped my cheek with the other, keeping my face turned away from Dr. Jones. “Go for it, Doc.”

I felt pressure on my wrist as someone grabbed it and held it down. My heart skipped a beat, knowing that I was about to be cut into, but there was a larger part of me that no longer cared.

I wanted Chase.

Matias glanced back at me, continuing to hold my hand and keeping my face turned away. My eyes drifted to Chelsea, hovering back behind Matias, and the look in her eyes showed a flash of different emotions. They were cold while her lips were set in a thin, stern line. And when our eyes met, she glared, tipping her chin down as her eyes remained narrowed on me. I looked away, landing on Matias once again. His eyes were warm, inviting, enveloping. But I couldn’t get lost in them. A sting seared through my arm. I tried to pull away on instinct, but the pressure on my wrist tightened. The urge to turn and watch captivated me, causing me to turn my face. But Matias’s hand kept me looking at him. He brought his face closer to mine and looked straight into my eyes.

“Shh…it’s okay. Just look at me. It’ll be over soon. Just keep looking at me, okay?”

I bit my bottom lip, trying to divert my attention from the burning sting in my arm to the pain in my lip. Inhaling deeply through my nose, I felt the sensation of my flesh being carved out, a deep burn that sent waves of agony shooting all the way up into my shoulder. And then it lightened to an aching throb. I exhaled sharply, feeling myself being drained of any energy I had, the lightheadedness returning. I blinked and felt as a few tears slipped over my lids and rolled down my cheek.

“It’s done, Mara. It’s all done.” The hand that was cupping my face glided to my cheek and wiped away the moisture. “Nice job,” he said as I sniffed and looked at my arm. I counted five stitches.

Dr. Jones was cleaning the area, wiping the blood that had spilled, and then wrapping my forearm with gauze. “Keep it dry. The stitches fall out when the flesh is sufficiently healed. Until then, just keep it clean.”

I took a deep breath. “Can I see it?” Dr. Jones glanced at me before grabbing a small container and holding it out. A half inch, cylindrical capsule. That’s all it was, and not at all what I thought the tracker would look like.

“I’ll take this back to headquarters. Now, as for your head…” He stepped toward me as Matias stood and backed away. Dr. Jones grabbed the wrapping around my head and quickly unwound it. Taking my face into both his hands, he tipped and turned my head. “That’s looking pretty good actually. It wasn’t nearly as bad as I initially thought. That should heal up pretty soon. You can wash it. But don’t pick at it. We can leave it uncovered for now to air it out for a bit.” He let me go, snatching the dish as he did. “Now, one more bit of business, and then you’ll be free to go.”

---