“You don’t know what love is?” Mattie snorted. “Of course you don’t. You’re just a mole from Adaline.”
“Don’t call me that! I’m still a person. Yes, I’m from Adaline and I don’t know what the heck anyone around here is ever talking about.” 62 crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Mattie. He fumed at her and couldn’t believe he’d been so worried about her a few minutes ago.
“Sorry, don’t get so worked up. I didn’t think you’d be so sensitive. I forget that you’re new to all of this.” Mattie sighed and tipped her head to one side. “When people aren’t busy being bossed around by robots every second of their lives, they grow up to have feelings for one another. Usually it’s males getting all attached to one of the Women. But not always.” Mattie lifted an eyebrow. “Loving someone is like how you feel about Blue.”
62 frowned. “What do you mean?”
“He’s your friend, right? You’re happy when you see him. You’re probably moping around now that he’s gone. Worried about him. That kind of thing.”
“Well, I guess.” 62 uncrossed his arms and lowered his hands into his lap. He sighed. “Yeah.”
“That’s love. Sometimes it’s crazier than that. People deciding to be partners, ignoring everybody else.” Mattie rolled her eyes dramatically. “It’s sickening, really. But that’s the gist of it. You care about somebody and they care about you back.”
“Parker does seem like he cares about Sunny a lot,” 62 conceded. “He cried in class. I think he misses her.”
“Ya think?” Mattie chuckled. “He misses her so much he took over teaching so that he could be part of her old life.”
“Her old life.” 62 paused, considering the words. He frowned and said, “You don’t think she’s coming back?”
Mattie shook her head. “The pregnant ones; Sasha, Flora, and Kat, they all came back right after the Oosa took them.”
“They’ve got infants growing in their guts?” 62 sputtered.
“Yup. They’re building babies in their wombs as we speak. If Sunny was coming back, she’d have been with them.”
62’s heart sank. “But Parker said that the ones who don’t have babies are taken away to a horrible place.”
Mattie looked away, worry creasing her face. When she looked back, she stuck out her tongue and let out a long raspberry. “What does Parker know? He’s never gone with the volunteers, has he? They’re probably being sent off to the ocean where they’ll live the rest of their lives in little houses on the beach.”
62’s head rolled back on his shoulders. He groaned. “I have no idea what the heck you’re talking about. Again.”
Mattie craned her neck, pulling a book off the shelf behind her. “There’s no ocean around here, obviously. If there were, it wouldn’t be so dang dusty all the time. There’d be gulls, and moss, and barnacles.” She flipped through the pages of the book, opening it to a landscape of a small, yellow building set in the middle of a lush green yard. In front of the yard was a wide expanse of white soil, layered over with more water than 62 had ever seen in one place.
“It’s a painting,” 62 said in quiet amazement.
Mattie’s face lifted. “You know what a painting is?”
62 nodded. “My friend, 71, showed them to me when we were in Adaline. Never anything like this though. This looks like it’s outside. But that’s way more water than I’ve ever seen.”
“Yeah, it’s the ocean. I want to see it one day for myself. There’re books in here that talk about it. All kinds of animals that live under water, and fish bigger than the cafeteria. Can you imagine?” Mattie looked down on the picture with a soft smile. “I bet that’s where they take the volunteers who don’t come back. The elders like to scare us with stories to keep us from wanting to go. They tell us that the Oosa do terrible things like murdering the weak. But we’ve never given them any trouble, so why would they do that? I bet they take the ones who they think can handle the change to someplace like this.” Mattie pressed her index finger onto the little yellow house.
“But if the elders think the Women are hurt when they’re taken away, what makes you think they aren’t?” 62 glanced worriedly at the Girl as she walked her fingers along the sandy beach, kicking them at the water’s edge like little imaginary legs.
Mattie gave him a sideways smirk. “We’re dumb enough to bring you guys to Hanford, aren’t we? If we figure you won’t crack, we keep you here in town. Maybe the Oosa are the same way.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Maybe they’re just looking for the right people to take to paradise.”
CHAPTER 21
62 SAT ON THE ROOF OF the male dormitory. The wind was harsher up above the buildings, but when there was a break in the tossed-up dust, 62 could see to the horizon. He’d started sitting on the flat rooftop not long after Blue and 00 left, hoping to see a glimpse of his friends out there in the great expanse of brush and dirt. It was silly, he knew, since they were making the trek all the way to Adaline and back. It might be another week before they returned. But the added benefit of hanging out on the rooftop was that it was a quiet place where 62 could be alone with his thoughts.
It wasn’t just the horizon that 62 could see from here, either. He could peer over the edge of the half-height wall that enclosed the rooftop and look down into the courtyard, which was the hub for the school and dormitory residents. Almost everyone in this area were male. Refugees, like 62. On the opposite side of the building, however, he could look beyond to where the hospital and the female dorms lay. The activity there was much more interesting. Women bustled about between the buildings constantly. There were also the farms beyond the fence on that side, and watching the shadows of people moving inside the greenhouses could be truly hypnotic. Blue had taken him over to see the fruit trees a couple of weeks ago, but they’d been in a hurry. The branches had been bare and they hadn’t stayed long. He hoped that next time they’d be able to look at more of the plants and animals hidden within the opaque enclosures of the sprawling farms.
62 pulled Charlotte’s Web out of his coat pocket and opened it part way. He laid the book on the ledge and held the pages down tight with both hands to keep them from flapping in the wind. Charlotte had vowed to find a way to save Wilbur, even though neither of them had a clue as to how she’d do it. 62 looked down at the Women milling around their courtyard. They’d protected Adaline by keeping the location a secret from the Oosa, without anyone asking. And then they’d found a way to save imperfect people like 62 from Adaline itself. They were all like Charlotte. Maybe that’s what the female species was made for; to protect others even when they didn’t know they needed protecting.
He nodded to himself and then sat on an abandoned crate at the edge of the rooftop to read. He’d already been through a couple stacks of books from Mattie’s library, but none of the other books spoke to him the way this story did. He could practically recite some of the lines now, but still he turned the pages with slow attentive care. Inevitably there would be something new to discover; something he’d never noticed or understood before.
When the sun dipped down over the horizon and the light began to fade, 62 let himself back into the building and marched down the stairs all the way to the first floor. Before he went to his room, he decided to check on Blue’s to make sure that no one had started squatting there. In the time his friend had been gone, 62 had taken Blue’s laundry to be washed, made his bed, and dusted the room from top to bottom. The space looked practically spotless and when he surveyed the room he trailed his hand along the neat folds of the blanket on the end of the bed and smiled. Maybe it didn’t look brand new by Adaline’s standards, but it would do as a nice surprise for Blue when he came home anyway. The space was always such a mess normally, and 62 couldn’t understand how Blue managed to live in such squalor. But it was better now; drawers closed tight around neatly folded clothes, and shoes lined up in a row under the bed’s frame. 62 had even selected some interesting books to fill Blue’s previously empty bookshe
lf. He looked around the room once more, tidy and neat, and wished he had a key for 00’s room to do the same for him. Next time, maybe.
62 shut the door, locking it behind him. He opened up the exit at the end of the hall and cut around the side of the building to take the shortcut to his room. Darkness was filling up the courtyard and it was getting hard to see. He focused on watching his feet as he trotted along through the half-melted snow. He’d been so intent on not tripping in the dark that he hadn’t noticed the arm that swung out in front of him until it slammed into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Before he knew what happened, he was flat on his back, looking up at the deep grey sky.
Someone loomed over him. Long, dark curls sprung out from the gap between the hood and mask that covered the stranger’s face and head. The larger person pushed down on him with her hands, pressing him into the cold soil below. Slush seeped in through his collar and up the back of his shirt as he wriggled under her. She moved closer to him, pushing him deeper into the half-melted muck with her knee until he was wet enough for the chill to make his skin burn. He coughed under her weight, his chest so bound up that he couldn’t breathe. “Stop moving, you worm,” she hissed.
He complied, and she pulled her knee away from his chest enough that he had room for a short breath. He sucked the oxygen into his lungs and started to wriggle again. She pressed down on him even harder this time, and he realized he couldn’t get free. He forced himself to lie still beneath her, the slush creeping in through the gaps in his rumpled clothes. He’d stay still like she’d demanded, if only just to breathe.
“You’re the kid who dreams.” It hadn’t been a question. It was a statement of his identity. The courtyard had grown darker in the few moments of their struggle, and what little he might have seen of his curly haired assailant in the dusky light was now fully wrapped in shadow. The coiled sprigs of her hair made her head seem strangely misshapen, transforming her into an obscure monster. Her words came low and fast when she spoke again. “They shouldn’t have let you in.”
“Sorry?” he croaked. He craned his neck to look back at the building and wondered how long it would be before someone came around the corner. Blue was the one who’d showed him the shortcut between their two rooms. Did anyone else use it?
“If you dream, they’ll find you. They’ll use you to uncover this place and the war will begin anew.” She gripped his sleeves in her hands, tighter than before, pulling him up toward her. She stood, dragging him up with her. As soon as he’d made it to his feet she shoved him back to the ground. “You’re a danger to everything we’ve preserved.”
62 panicked. He wasn’t sure who his assailant was, but he knew he had to get away from her before she stopped him from breathing again. No one was coming. It was just the two of them, trapped in the blackening night together. He balled his fists tight as he tried to think of what to do. One of his gloves had been knocked off when he fell the second time. He hadn’t noticed before, but now that his bare fingers curled in on themselves he could feel the mix of slush and mud in his hand.
62’s mind reeled at the sensation. Then he realized he could use the mud to his advantage.
He scooped the wet muck into his bare hand and sprung up at her. He gripped her mask with his still-gloved hand, yanking on it with all his might. The top strap popped loose and the mask fell away. 62 smeared wet soil over her exposed face with the mud he held between bare fingers. She fell back with a scream, scaping at her face to try to get free of the mire. 62 scrambled to his feet and ran back to the side door while she rolled over and spat at the ground. The door had seemed closer before, but now it felt like it was creeping away from him as he moved on his sluggish legs.
The Woman screamed again and he could hear her feet falling into the slick slush behind him. “You little sneak! If I die of radiation poisoning, that’ll just give us one more reason to kill you!”
62 pumped his feet as fast as he could, slamming into the door and fumbling the door handle. The metal knob was slick and cold. He could barely force his trembling fingers to grab it. He felt the tug of her hands on the back of his jacket and she pulled him backward into the cold night. He flung his other glove off and used the still-workable fingers of his previously protected hand to pull the zipper of his coat down. He wriggled free and heard her fall backwards when the jacket slid off his arms. 62 flung himself toward the door, ripping it open. When he spun to close it, the yellow light from inside spilled over his attacker’s enraged body as she untangled herself from the wet ground. Her shoulders shuddered in anger, her face was black with mud. She lunged toward the door and he yanked it shut, throwing the lock to secure it just as she landed against it with a thud.
62 slumped against the wall, panting. He tucked his hands under his armpits, but there was no warmth there. He curled into a ball, staring at the thick metal door, watching the lock tremble as the Woman alternated pulling it from the other side and pounding on the door. There was a high-pitched scream and then the world fell silent.
The kid who lived across the hall from Blue poked his head out of his room. “What’s going on out there? Don’t you know people are trying to sleep?” He looked for the source of the noise and when his gaze found 62 crumpled on the floor, his eyes went wide. He rushed over, kneeling beside 62. “Holy Hanford, you’re shivering. Where’d all of this mud come from?”
62 turned his eyes toward the locked door. It was all he had strength to do. His teeth chattered together, preventing him from answering. He was cold. Colder than he’d ever felt before. The mud on his cheeks dried and cracked across his trembling face. The wet clothes he wore hung like sheets of ice against his skin.
Blue’s neighbor sat back on his heels a moment. “I don’t know what you were doing out there, but you’re a mess. We’ve got to get you to medical.” 62 gave a jerky nod. The bigger kid stood up. “Wait here. I’ll get help.”
62 watched him go back into his room. It was hard for 62 to follow his movements. After some time, he thought the kid reemerged. At least a blanket somehow found its way around 62’s shoulders. Then a dozen gloved hands appeared and took turns removing the blanket and all his clothes. They wrapped his naked body in another blanket and picked him up. It felt like he was floating through the building. Was he dreaming? He might have been flying. Lights passed overhead and then everything went dark. He couldn’t tell if he’d floated outside, or if the timer on the power had hit its limit, cutting off the overhead lights. 62 felt the shivering stop, the cold so deep in his bones that it felt like he’d frozen solid.
Sunlight stretched through a bare window when 62 finally came back to reality. He opened his eyes and tried to roll over, but he was wrapped in thick layers of blankets that made it hard to move. He looked around and decided he must be back at the hospital. The room was bright and sterile. The light of the rising sun made the white and metal accents of the room gleam.
“Welcome back,” Dr. Rain said in a warm voice from a chair at the desk nearby. “You gave us quite a scare.”
62 wriggled free of the blankets enough to sit up in bed. He blurted, “Did a Woman come in to detox?”
Dr. Rain turned her chair to face 62. “That’s an odd question.”
“Well, did she?”
The doctor tapped her pen against his knee. “I’m not at liberty to answer that. Why do you want to know?”
“She attacked me!” 62’s legs were still bound by the heavy blankets he’d pushed away, and when he shifted his weight with the exclamation, he nearly fell over. He caught himself at the edge of the mattress and pushed himself upright again.
A frown passed over the doctor’s face. She pulled a clipboard from the desk and jotted down a note. “You were covered in mud and snow when you came in. Is that what you think happened? That someone attacked you?”
“I don’t think it. I know it. And it wasn’t a someone. It was a Woman. She had curly hair.” 62 kicked the rest of the blankets off him, then hung his legs over the edge of the be
d and crossed his arms with an angry scowl. “She wanted to hurt me.”
Dr. Rain shook her head. “I understand Adaline might be a violent place, but it’s not like that here. People don’t fight. And an adult would especially never attack a child. Maybe you imagined it while you were hypothermic.”
“I didn’t imagine it. She’s the whole reason this happened. She pushed me into the snow and told me she wanted to kill me because I was dangerous. Because I used to dream in Adaline.” 62 flopped back against his pillow. He grumbled, “It’s not like it matters now. I can’t see my friends in my dreams anymore.”
The doctor raised an eyebrow. “The person... the adult you think you saw... she knew that you have dreams?”
“Yes,” 62 answered.
“Excuse me.” Dr. Rain got up from the chair and moved toward the door. She looked back over her shoulder at 62. “What did you say she looked like?”
“It was too dark to see. But she was female. A grown up. And she had long curly hair.”
“Get some rest. Someone will be in shortly with some clothes. When they release you, go straight to class.” The doctor left, letting the door close behind her.
“You aren’t going to tell me anything else?” 62 shouted at the closed door. Silence was the only answer.
CHAPTER 22
62 SAT ALONE IN HIS hospital room for almost a full day before anyone returned. When the door finally swung open, he hopped out of bed. “It’s about time,” he said crossly. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.”
“Forget you? Never.” A tall Woman in a shocking red face mask strolled through the door. She wasn’t dressed like a doctor and she moved across the room with a broad confidence that made 62 uncomfortable. The Woman pulled off her mask and tucked it under her arm. It was Joan, the brutish Woman from the gate. She stood near the desk Dr. Rain had used earlier and gave 62 a devious smile. “I was on patrol last night and heard you had a rough evening.”
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