Oblivion
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In the outside world, every single day that passes, my life becomes more in danger. The only way to survive might be to enter the Oblivion and relive my forgotten memories.
But my mind may be even more dangerous than reality.
Jessica Sorensen
Jessica Sorensen lives with her husband and three kids in the snowy mountains of Wyoming, where she spends most of her time reading, writing, and hanging out with her family.
Read more from Jessica Sorensen
The Falling Series
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Oblivion - Jessica Sorensen
Compassbot
Ryder, Reece, Blaise, and I have been hiking on the trail between the cliffs for days now. We take occasional breaks, but our journey has mostly been filled with nonstop walking due to a long list of people and creatures tracking us, like the Forsaken. Although we haven’t seen any sign of them since we ran away from their camp a few day ago, Blaise insists we aren’t out of the clear yet.
We also have Trackers and the Grim to worry about. The longer I stay in the outside world, the more I realize it may be as dangerous as the channels. But I wouldn’t trade my freedom for anything, and I’m grateful Ryder, Reece, and Blaise saved me from being a prisoner.
I just wish I wasn’t so scared right now.
My knees knock together, my heart thrashes, and my skin dampens with sweat as I stand on the dusty path beneath the bleeding red sky with the nearly unbearable dry heat that beats down on me. My eyes are fixed on the narrow strip of land nestled between the cliffs and the drop off. My attention isn’t on the land, but the strange-looking creature hiding amid the dry dirt, the large rocks, and jagged cliffs.
With shimmering steel skin, glowing purple eyes, stubby legs, and pointy ears, it kind of reminds me of a robotic puppy. While I don’t think puppies are mean, this isn’t an ordinary puppy, so I don’t know how to react.
Allura, it’s okay,
Ryder’s soothing voice chips away at my fear. It won’t hurt you.
What is it?
I ask warily. It’s not a tiny Chaser, is it?
Chasers are horrible creatures made of assorted metals. They are drawn to objects that run off energy. I’ve been bitten a couple of times by them and the agonizing pain from the electrically-charged bite lasts for days.
No, it’s not a Chaser.
Blaise steps up beside me, the corners of his lips lifting into a small, reassuring smile.
When I first met Blaise, I was afraid of him. With his blond hair shaved on one side, the metal barbells ornamenting his eyebrows and lips, and the tattoos on his neck, he looks rough and intimidating. I’m starting to realize my initial assumption of him was wrong. Blaise is the opposite of scary, at least to me. He’s done nothing but show me kindness, even when he discovered I might have Grim blood—all the guys have.
Then, what is it?
I ask, gathering strands of my tangled brown hair out of my face.
He shields his eyes from the sunlight with his hand as he squints at the creature. A compassbot.
I wait for my mind to catch up and make the connection. It doesn’t.
What’s a compassbot?
Blaise’s brows furrow. You don’t know?
Sorry, but I don’t think I do.
I feel silly for not knowing another thing about the red sky world.
Ryder drapes his arm around my shoulder. You don’t need to be sorry for not knowing something.
Like Blaise, he’s wearing a jacket with the hood pulled over his head, fingerless gloves, and baggy cargo pants tucked into unlaced boots. Unlike Blaise, Ryder’s clothes are stained with a few drops of blood from when a Forsaken stabbed him.
It’s okay if you don’t know everything. No one really does,
Ryder says, his crystal blue eyes sparkle mischievously. Blaise just hasn’t figured that out yet.
My gaze skates to Blaise. While Ryder may be joking, Blaise tends to take most remarks seriously and sometimes gets mad at Ryder when he jokes around. I’ve learned over the last couple of weeks that, if Reece isn’t around to play mediator, their arguments can get heated. And Reece is currently searching for water, which leaves me to ease over the situation, something I’m not sure I know how to do. Still, I should try.
I part my lips, but before I can get the words out, Blaise scowls at Ryder and snaps, I don’t think I know everything if that’s what you’re getting at. And I wasn’t being rude to her. I just wanted to be sure she didn’t know what a compassbot is so I can keep track.
Question marks flood Ryder’s eyes. Keep track of what?
The stuff she doesn’t know about this world.
Blaise flicks a glance at the compassbot that’s hopping back and forth between the tumbleweeds. I’m also keeping track of the stuff she does know but doesn’t exist here.
That’s a little out of character for you.
Ryder fires an accusing look at Blaise. Is there something you’re not telling me?
Blaise exchanges a look with Ryder before redirecting his attention back to the compassbot, and Ryder looks away from us, frowning at the path.
I’ve seen the guys do this before when they were making an escape plan, or secretly trying to communicate something. I’ve often wondered if they have telepathy, but worry I might look stupid if I ask. I wish I knew what kind of secret conversations they’re having. I wish I didn’t feel so out of the loop. Then again, I don’t know why they’d include me in their private conversations. They hardly know anything about me, other than I’m considered a Nameless, barely have any memories of the red sky world, could possibly be a hybrid, and nearly drank the life from a Forsaken to protect Ryder.
What’s wrong?
Blaise asks. You look upset.
Having no idea what face I’m making, I wiggle my nose to erase it. I’m not. I promise.
Blaise studies me with his intense eyes. Then why do you look upset?
I shrug, not wanting to tell the truth—that I’m feeling sorry for myself because I feel left out. I don’t know. Maybe I’m tired.
Ryder touches my shoulder, steering me around to face him. Lowering his head, he levels his gaze with mine. She does look upset, doesn’t she?
he says to Blaise, keeping his gaze fixed on me. What’s wrong? Is it the compassbot? I promise that thing won’t hurt you. They’re pretty harmless. A few people at the station even have them as pets. And besides, if they were dangerous, you should know by now that we’d never let anything hurt you.
I know that. I’m really not upset. I don’t know why I look that way, but I’m not.
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear then places his palm on my cheek. His skin is warm and rough, and I find comfort in his touch; a strange, newfound feeling for me. Touching was always something I dreaded during my time as a prisoner, the visitors’ and wardens’ touches always felt deathly cold and unnatural. Honestly, I used to wonder if I loathed being touched in general. However, when Ryder, Reece, and Blaise came along, I realized I only despised being touched by the Grim, which doesn’t make much sense since I might be half-Grim.
Shouldn’t I be less afraid of them?
I’m not sure. I’m not sure of anything.
Ryder leans in to examine me closer.
Uneasy over his scrutiny, I tuck my hands into the sleeves of my leather jacket and shift my weight. A dry breeze picks up and sends a spray of dirt against my exposed legs. When I shiver from the sting, his gaze descends to my torn dress. Long in the back and shorter on the front, it leaves my skin vulnerable to the sunlight and wind.
How are you doing with that dress?
Ryder stares at my legs for a beat longer before dragging his gaze to mine. The sunlight isn’t burning your skin, is it?
I shake my head. Even if it was, it wouldn’t matter. The burns would heal quickly.
So what?
Ryder carries my gaze. "I don’t want you in any pain, even if it’s brief."
Really, I’m fine,
I reassure him. While the sunlight causes mild discomfort, the pain isn’t any worse than what I experienced in the channels.
With a frown, he parts his lips, but Blaise cuts him off.
The compassbot’s heading our way.
Blaise’s steady, fearless tone should alleviate any of my worry about the compassbot, but he typically sounds unafraid, no matter the circumstances.
My gaze darts to the creature, and I stiffen. The compassbot isn’t heading our way; it’s looming right in front of us.
Ryder slips an arm around my waist and guides me to his side until our shoulders connect. Blaise’s gaze bounces back and forth between me, Ryder, and the compassbot, a pucker forming at his brow as his fingers curl into fists.
Just relax,
Ryder whispers, his mouth close to my ear. I’d never let something bad come this close to you. And neither would Blaise.
I glance at Blaise, who’s glaring at the compassbot.
Blaise seems mad at it,
I whisper to Ryder. What does a compassbot do, exactly?
Ryder slants forward to look at Blaise, strands of his blond hair falling across his forehead. Blaise, you okay over there?
Blaise doesn’t remove his attention from the compassbot, his lips remaining fused and jaw clenched.
Ryder sighs, reaches around me, and pokes Blaise in the arm.
Blaise flinches, his gaze snapping to Ryder. Watch it,
he warns, his expression stone cold. Or else.
Ryder rolls his eyes. You say that like something’s actually going to happen to me if I poke you again.
Blaise scans the peaks of the cliffs then focuses his death glare back on Ryder. Maybe something will.
What? You’ll poke me back?
Ryder teases. That doesn’t bother me. Just you.
Maybe we should test out that theory.
Blaise elevates a clenched fist with his eyes narrowed at Ryder.
Uneasiness tremors through my muscles. While I don’t believe Blaise will hurt Ryder, he looks extremely angry right now.
I scan the area for Reece, knowing, if he shows up, the two of them will more than likely cool down. But he’s nowhere in sight, which worries me. He’s been gone for a while. I hope nothing happened to him.
My chest tightens. What if something did happen to him? Like the Forsaken captured him?
No, there’s definitely something bothering you,
Ryder states, completely unbothered by Blaise’s withering glare.
Nothing’s bothering me,
Blaise snaps. Except for you.
Do you really mean that?
Ryder questions with his arms crossed. Or are you trying to make a joke? Sometimes it’s hard to tell with you.
You’re really trying to piss me off today, aren’t you?
Blaise’s fists twitch, causing bad memories to pierce through my mind.
My breath gets stuck in my throat, and I instinctively cower back.
Ryder’s and Blaise’s heads snap in my direction, and then they hastily step away from each other.
Sweetheart, we’re not going to hurt each other,
Ryder tells me at the same time Blaise mutters, I’m sorry if we scared you.
"We? Ryder arches his brow at Blaise.
I’m pretty I’m not the one scaring her."
Blaise shoots a harsh look at Ryder, but the rage in his eyes vanishes when he notes me watching him.
I won’t hurt him, Allura. I’m just …
He huffs an exasperated breath then spins on his heels, storming off down the path in the direction we’ve been walking in since we escaped the Forsaken.
I watch him, feeling utterly horrible.
I’m sorry I made him mad.
I turn back toward Ryder. I feel terrible.
You didn’t make him mad,
he insists, giving my hand a squeeze. I did.
Because you were teasing him?
He thrums his fingers against the side of his legs, glancing from me to the path. Not exactly.
I open my mouth to ask him what upset Blaise, but the compassbot lets out an abrupt squeak, its purple eyes shimmering as an arrow on its back energetically sways back