Apidae

Published by Evernight Teen ® at Smashwords

www.evernightteen.com

Copyright© 2018 Lisa Borne Graves

ISBN: 978-1-77339-845-7

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Audrey Bobak

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To Mom and Dad who taught me to keep my feet on the ground while reaching for the stars.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I’m going to start by apologizing to whomever I forgot. I’m sure I’ll leave off a bunch of people and know that if you are slighted, I meant nothing by it and I appreciate all you’ve done. First, I’d like to thank my parents. They taught me I could do anything, be anyone I wanted to be, and fully supported my dreams while grounding me in the reality that a backup plan to ensure stability is necessary. Now, because of them instilling that in me, I’ve got the best of both worlds in two careers I love. Also, thank you for teaching me that reading could lead me everywhere and for fostering my love of literature. Owning a video store in the pinnacle moment of my childhood when I was bombarded with visual stories helped my imagination blossom too. I’d also like to thank my husband for having blind faith in me, never minding my half-paying attention to him, accepting that I cannot be leisurely or calm, and that writing is my relaxation. I’d like to thank him and my parents for all the help they give me to balance these two careers and parenthood. Without my team, I wouldn’t be published. I’d like to thank my son for being the crazy, wild, intelligent boy who keeps me on my toes and inspires me to be the best everything in life by giving me drive and purpose. I’d also like to thank my brother who helped foster my imagination and our crazy homemade movies that made me want to create something of my own one day.

I want to thank all my friends (and family not mentioned) who have been supportive through highs and lows—Carey, Courtney, Kari, Marci, Wendy (apparently, I like the ‘e’ final syllable sound). If I drive you insane, know that you keep me sane. Thanks to my first #1 fans, Uncle Chuck and Jess, and my beta readers—Grandmom, mom, and Kate. Kate gets a double shout out for being my first editor—stomaching the mess before it is fully matured. Your comments and attention to detail made this the best it could be before I sent it out. And thanks to all my writer friends—past, present, virtual, and physical.

My life is like a machine with different cogs turning the wheel, so I’ll turn my attention to the university where I teach. I want to thank my supportive colleagues, who listen to me rattle on about plots and complain about being overworked, who go out of their way to make me feel accomplished. I’d love to thank each and every one of my students, past and present. You keep me young and fresh and you are the audience I write for. Enjoy and know that part of you shines through in my characters.

And like the end of an academy award speech that has gone on to long, I’ll name drop before they cut the music in to drown me out. I’d like to thank all those who inspired me, particularly those who read my cheesy, melodramatic first drafts written in high school and still had faith in me or enjoyed acting them out for me—you know who you are Hatboro Pool crew, high school card club buddies, as well as track and swimming friends. Also, in college, thank you to my roomie Lauren for urging me to write, and theater friends and professors who helped me learn more about character development than any other traditional way could have. Thank you, fellow English majors, particularly Denise where our educational paths crossed twice, and professors (undergrad and grad schools) for teaching me so much about literature which helped me hone my craft.

Last, none of this would be possible without the wonderful team and family we have at Evernight Teen Publishing. I’d like to thank Stacey, Christine, Audrey, Sandra, and Jay for putting everything I wrote together in a beautiful package (and any behind the scenes people I may not have known assisted us) and fellow Evernight authors for our mutual support of each other. This has been an amazing journey which I hope is only the beginning.

APIDAE

Lisa Borne Graves

Copyright © 2018

Chapter One

Jarred

Emlyn hated waiting. It was a tedious boredom that wore away at her nerves until she was fraught with anxiety about nothing. So, what? Huck was a little late in coming back from the supply run. It didn’t mean anything terrible happened.

She sighed and sat back down in the tent, the sleeping bag under her hardly cushioning her bottom from the rocky terrain underneath. She loathed being idle. It allowed her to reflect, to think, or remember the past. That was never good. A past like Emlyn’s should be forgotten. As always, her mind’s masochistic nature allowed the memories to roll over her in agonizing waves.

Her mother’s blazing red hair, elixirs that tasted of honey and sunshine, bees buzzing about, toothy, young Huck—she clung to the happy memories, trying not to let them slip away as they always did. Then they were gone. Replaced with fire, pain, the limp form of her mother being thrown into a van never to be seen again, bees burning brightly, shooting off into the air, trying to get away from the flames, looking like little dwindling sparks from a firework on its way out plummeting into the ground.

So none can sting but us. She knew the words but could no longer remember the timbre of her mother’s voice.

Emlyn squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her fingers into the bridge of her nose as if to force the thoughts out of her head. She had to forget that day, forge forward and create hives, help pollinate, fight the government—if you could call the moronic, cruel soldiers who tried to rule the country a government. She alone had to save the bees, so they could pollinate and replenish food supplies. Food was scarce. But these governmental types didn’t care about feeding the people. Their solution? Kill the people to make the remaining food last. The buffoons didn’t realize that if bees went extinct, like they were so close to becoming, many fruits, veggies, and nuts would become distant memories. People now survived on mostly grains and meat and that situation would become permanent soon.

Huck should’ve been back hours ago. She unzipped the tent and slipped out, escaping her own mind. Sometimes it was tents, sometimes it was nice clean buildings with running water, but most of the time, their shelters were somewhere in between. When you were on the run, constantly moving, while creating hives, you had to deal with all kinds of shelters.

She walked the grounds and saw a few older men in their black unmarked rebel uniforms patrolling. They nodded at her but didn’t stop to chat. They must not be back yet. Frustrated, she kicked a stone. She worried always about Huck’s return, scared that MICE, the Military Incorporated Control Executives, might get ahold of him. All the people in her life came and went, but Huck was her only constant. The only other constant was MICE, who could be relied on to kill anyone she got close to.

And finally, there he was, loping toward her with an apologetic smirk, cocky swagger, and those eyes that made her stomach flop lately. She wasn’t exactly sure why. They had always been like brother and sister, like family in a way, but something had changed lately.

He pulled her in a tight hug and kissed her forehead, but let her go right away, his leather jacket creaking. Didn’t mean to worry you, Emlyn, sorry.

Her stomach was in a nauseating tangle. Wanting to get rid of these emotions that had been creeping over her recently, she fake-punched his shoulder to focus on him as a brother.

Don’t lie, she teased. You live to worry me.

I live to annoy you, you mean, he joked back. This was better. This was safe.

They walked toward the tent. I’m glad you’re still awake. We need to pack up.

Already? She moaned. Why? She knew better than to hesitate, so she began packing up her meager possessions while waiting for his answer.

Yes, already. He threw down his pack and rearranged it in the dim light of the lantern. He was counting out bullets and filling the cartridges for his Glock when he sighed. I need more ammo.

Huck?

Emlyn. His voice mocked her whine.

Why are we leaving?

Here. I got this for you, he told her, handing her a book. Was going to give it to you later, but I don’t have room in my bag.

Emlyn looked down and although it was worn and tattered, it was a book, a real book. Pride and Prejudice was the title. She looked at him, perplexed.

It’s supposed to be one of those classics. About not judging people or something like that. It’s an early birthday present.

You’re terrible at giving synopses, just stop. She laughed and was all smiles. But thank you. Gifts, books, even more so after the Big Book Burning of ’26, were hard to come by. All anyone looked for were necessities, tools for survival, which books weren’t unless they were used as tinder. She slipped the prized book into her bag and zipped it, her packing complete. Huck, for real, why are we leaving already?

I got a lead, a real good one, Huck told her. He seemed nervous as he licked his lips and he avoided her gaze. We’ve finally found him, Emlyn. Ace.

They had been looking for the guy since the day her mother was taken by MICE. Her mother’s last words gave Huck and her an important mission: to find the Ace, or as she should rephrase, find Ace, because he was a person, and then Go to the Queen. A fishy phrase that sounded more like a card game to her. They followed the leads but ended up here, waiting and moving around in what felt like circles. The trail had gone cold, yet Huck wouldn’t give in. She knew he had no idea what else to do without the guy. They had been stuck … until now.

Where is he? She looked over his shoulder to see if anyone else had come back with him into the camp. They were set to go, the tent not being theirs, but she awaited his command.

He’s in the heart of MICE territory, as I feared. Huck shifted his weight uncomfortably.

We’ve been there before. We must go. He knows where the Queen is, knows what to do. Emlyn’s heart sped up. At last, they actually would be heading in a real direction toward a real destination, maybe even a place of safety. Without constantly worrying about MICE, maybe she could actually live a normal life. She could work to save the bees, sell honey, pollinate, and bring back vegetables and nut trees, finally date someone and maybe one day get married and have kids. The idea of a normal life was palatable. Maybe she could do it all with Huck. She banished the thought. She couldn’t do that, could she? He was awfully cute if she could be unbiased.

Emlyn? He sighed dramatically. Thankfully, Huck saying her name dispelled her idiotic fantasies. He’s inside MICE headquarters. The thing is, I’ve run into him before the last time you were taken by this northern branch. I didn’t know it was him. I could just kick myself right now. If I had just brought him with us when we escaped…

You didn’t know, Emlyn cut him off. And more importantly, can we trust him?

Huck met her gaze but said nothing. She knew he was torn. They needed this Ace guy but couldn’t fully trust him. He was holed up with the enemy and had been the last time they nabbed her, so about five years at least. He could be one of them now.

Emlyn left Huck to relieve herself in the woods before they left, praying the next place they stayed would have plumbing or even just an outhouse. After she pulled up her pants, she heard a twig snap. She turned to see a man step out of the tree shadows and saw enough of his uniform in the moonlight to realize who he was. They must’ve followed Huck and his men back to camp. How could Huck be so foolish?

Don’t make a sound, girlie, or we’ll do this the hard way.

I’ve never liked the easy way, though, Emlyn said with false bravado, giving him a confident glare and smile. Inside, she was terrified but knew better than to show it.

A shame. Because the hard way involves all of their deaths. He nodded his head to the right in reference to the rebel camp. He was bluffing too. There was no way MICE would leave a rebel camp be just to nab one girl, so even if she acted noble and complied, they’d kill or imprison everyone anyway. That left only one option. Run.

She didn’t hesitate but legged it, darting off through the woods toward the tent on the edge of camp where Huck and his men were waiting. MICE! she screamed to warn them. Then, just as the clearing came into her view, something hard and blunt smashed into her face, knocking her to the ground, the back of her head hitting something hard and cold as well. She blinked as the world swirled into a spin, and the last thing she saw was the face of a hardened-looking woman glaring at her. Put the bee in the jar.

What? a man’s voice inquired.

It’s a metaphor, you oaf. Throw her in the van.

She struggled, blinking, trying to focus on the woman’s face, but she knew that she couldn’t win this one. Her body succumbed to the darkness and she lost consciousness.

Chapter Two

Patient

Ace sat up in bed, panting and sweating, and looked over to see a large chef’s knife in his right hand, held up in the air as if he was ready to plunge it into the attacker’s heart. But there was no attacker and he was in no danger. He dropped his hand and slipped the knife back under his pillow where it usually rested.

He’d dreamed about the past again or relived it in a nightmare, to be more accurately described. It haunted him while asleep and awake, impervious, and inescapable. More importantly, it served as a reminder of why he was here, what his mission was, and it gave him drive and purpose.

He threw off the covers and lay back down, trying to calm his frantic heart and cool his sticky flesh. He never could relax despite the luxury of food, shelter, and running water. It wouldn’t be so bad if he weren’t living in the middle of his enemy, the very people he wanted to kill on a daily basis. Five years ago, he and his father allowed themselves to be captured and converted to the MICE cause, as if the science was more important than sides. Being undercover in the midst of MICE was like a jail sentence, one that he knew would most likely end with his death when they found out whose side he was really on. He wouldn’t go without a fight, and he’d take down as many men as he could if that day arrived. Part of him looked forward to that ending.

Ace got little rest that night and in the morning was on the dreaded clinic duty with his father and Dr. Brown. He was seeing to a little girl with a sore throat. He wasn’t a doctor, nor did he want to be, but pretending to want to be his father’s apprentice kept him close