Hidden (Book 3 of the Immune Series)

Conversations with the Dead

Sakir

I'm back at home, playing basketball with my best friend Athena. Her hair's pulled back in a high ponytail. As she dribbles around me, the soft strands adhere to the sweat on my skin like black blades of grass on mowing days. Her laugh fills the empty court as she ducks under my arm and goes for a three pointer.

"You're losing your touch, Saki," she teases, jogging after the ball.

I smile at her, watching her ponytail sway back and forth.

"Maybe I'm just tired of beating you everyday. I've been crushing you at basketball for almost fifteen years," I reply, catching the ball when she tosses it to me. It's worn and faded at the creases and smells faintly of motor oil.

"Crushing me might be a overstatement."

"Not at all. Last week, I won six out of seven games."

"It's not my fault that the only free time we both have is this early in the morning. I'm just not a morning person."

"Athena, you're not an any-time-of-day person. I could play you in the dead of night and still win."

"That's because you would blend in with the night! Not because you're that good."

I dribble around her, shooting from the half court. The ball dips through the net, grazing the metal rim.

"Another point for me," I mutter, shouldering her as I chase the ball.

"So, you are Six," she says. "It's nice to meet you, Six."

Six?

When I turn back around, she's gone. The basketball court sprawls empty, littered with empty plastic bottles and styrofoam cups from the cafeteria. The basketball in my hand is flat. I blink several times.

Wasn't she just here talking to me? Where did she go? And what was she talking about? Six? Athena never called me anything other than Saki.

Was that even her voice?

A shock ricochets through my body, and I drop the ball like it's on fire.

The ground tilts under me, and my vision blurs. The pavement fades away into white tiles and black trim. I fall backwards, startling awake.

The cold metal of the table bleeds through my shirt. The stiff fabric clings to me as I turn my head and blink the room into view.

I'm still in Dr. Julien's lab. I'm still a prisoner.

Athena left the compound months ago with my father. She'd been interning under him, chasing after her dream of helping him create a cure. I haven't heard from her since she left, and Papa would always make excuses for her when I called him. For all I know, Athena could be dead somewhere between here and Compound 5.

Surely Papa would tell me if my best friend was dead, though. Surely.

If it wasn't Athena's voice in my dream, who was it?

As the room comes into view, so does a girl.

She has long, auburn colored hair that frames her golden eyes. She's looking down at her hand, sucking air through her lips. Did she feel the shock too?

I fight with my leaden tongue, forcing my dry lips to cooperate.

"Who are you?" I ask. Every word burns my throat.

The girl jumps, looking up at me with golden, moon eyes. She takes a careful step towards me before answering.

"Mya. Mya Julien."