For a moment, I felt frustrated, determined, and I sat down on the lobby bench. I decided I would wait there until Dustin came out. I wanted to know what they were doing and maybe if I caught him right away, I would be able to tell. I needed answers. I needed to know. If I was going to be able to live with what I was doing, I had to understand why.
As the minutes turned into hours, the thought of leaving to go do something, anything, lingered in my mind, but I knew I had to wait for Dustin. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t.
By the time he finally walked through those doors, it was almost three o’clock in the morning and I had busied myself with tying and re-tying my shoelaces in various knots and bows. When I saw him, I sat up quickly then stood, intending to speak to him. Strangely, he didn’t look at all like the Dustin I had walked home with and for a brief moment, I wondered if I had been mistaken. He walked with extremely good posture, unlike his usual slouch, and his eyes glazed over as he stared straight ahead.
“Dustin,” I called, walking towards him.
He looked at me, no sign of recognition in his face.
“What did they do?”
He kept walking towards the door.
“Dustin?”
He ignored me. I watched him leave, feeling a hollowness overwhelm me. I knew it was no use going after him. He wouldn’t answer any questions. I wasn’t even sure he knew what had happened. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding.
What had I done? The words swirled around in my head over and over again. No. How could I have stood by and let this happen? How could I have actually helped this happen? I felt like crying. I felt like screaming—screaming at the creators who had designed me for this. I kicked the wall closest to me, leaving a dent.
I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t.
I wouldn’t.
I ran down the hallway towards Glen’s study. A few people saw me and gave me strange looks as I ran by, but I didn’t care. I knew he stayed up late most of the time. That was the reason why David drove us to school. There was a good chance Glen was still there.
I burst into the room and Glen looked up, startled. “I want to talk to you about bringing people in,” I said, breathless.
“Oh,” Glen replied, surprised. “Yes, I wanted to talk to you about that, too.” He started fumbling around in his desk and when I saw him pull out some papers, I gave an exasperated sigh.
“Glen, I—”
“Her name is Beatrix Ellis,” he went on.
“I can’t ...”
“She’s in one of your classes at school,” he elaborated, apparently not noticing my urge to speak with him.
“Glen, I can’t ...”
“Bring her here tomorrow, we’ll ...”
“No!” I nearly shouted, causing Glen to look up, his composure slipping for a brief second.
“What?”
“I won’t do it anymore,” I said firmly, staring him in the eye. “I can’t do it anymore.”
There was a tense pause while Glen fought to understand exactly what I had just said. “You won’t do it anymore?” he repeated, his tone turning from shock to anger.
I shook my head. “I don’t know what you’re doing to them, but I can’t be a part of it unless I know that it’s something good. But from what I’ve seen, it doesn’t look that way.”
His gray eyes grew cold. “This is your mission.” His voice was hard. “This is what you were created for, your one and only purpose.”
I glared at him, my teeth clenched. “I am not your play toy to order around as you please,” I snapped. “I’m more than just a hunk of metal and wires. I’m a person,” I declared.
Glen stood up, his glare pinning me to the wall. “You are what I say you are. I created you and you are mechanical. You will take orders from me.”
No, I tried to say, but Glen went on talking.
“This school and your little friends are changing the way you act and the way you look at things. You need to remember you’re not like them. You may be perfect, but you didn’t get there without me. And if this school is getting in the way of your mission, I’ll take you away from it in an instant. And I’ll turn you off as well.” His threat hung in the air as we stood there staring at one another.
I swallowed. I didn’t want to be turned off. I had spent years in nothingness; complete terror that eventually faded into a dull depression. I couldn’t go back there. I looked away and stared down at the floor, feeling submission wash over me in a dejected wave. “Okay,” I whispered.
Glen thrust the papers into my hands. “Good.”
I turned and ran from the study, from the portraits’ unnerving stares, from Glen’s glaring eyes and his heartless threat. I kept running down the twisting hallways until I found an empty room to sit down in. I couldn’t go back to my own room, not with Yvonne there.
I leaned against the wall and slid down to a sitting position to look through the papers. The girl, Beatrix, smiled up at me, her green eyes shining and her red hair seeming to glow. Yep, I knew her. Who could miss a tangle of hair like that? We never talked much, though.
You just have to play it right to get what you want, Yvonne’s voice sounded in my mind. I stared down at the face of Beatrix. What did I want? I knew what I didn’t want. I didn’t want to send Beatrix to a fate like the others. I stared at her, thinking hard.
They wouldn’t know it was me, I told myself.
It wasn’t the best of ideas and it wasn’t exactly fool proof, but it was what I had come up with and I wasn’t sure if I could live with any alternative. Would being shut off be worse than the heart wrenching guilt I was destined to face if I went through with Glen’s plan? I stared down at the picture. No.
I wouldn’t let them take Beatrix. I wouldn’t let her die inside like the others.
Chapter Thirty-Two
As I saw Beatrix come into view, my stomach flip-flopped. I was really going to do this. I was really going to help her get away. I was betraying everything I had ever known to save this girl. And most of me didn’t understand why.
“Hi Drew,” Beatrix said in her usual, sunny voice. Her hair was pulled back by a headband, but still wild and curly. “You ready to go?”
“Yep,” I answered and we headed down the street I had walked so many times with the other Institution victims. With every step we took, I became more and more anxious. I had lured Beatrix with yet another story about a lost item that I had at my house and she had eagerly agreed to walk with me to retrieve it.
I had thought a lot about how I was going to do this and decided that I needed to get her to the Institution first, then help her escape. The creators needed to see me doing what they wanted me to do. It was risky for her, but risky for me also. But if the plan worked, I would have successfully found a way to save us both.
“I love your hairclip,” Beatrix told me, looking closely at the flower clip in my hair. It was one Jessica had given me and forced me to wear, proclaiming how well it went with my coloring.
“Thanks,” I replied, noticing it seemed just her style. Beatrix was wearing a colorful skirt and T-shirt, fashionable sandals and hair accessories. I remember Jessica commenting on Beatrix’s clothing multiple times, saying that Beatrix was most likely the only one who could successfully pull off her special look.
“You know,” Beatrix commented, “you seem a little jumpy. Are you okay?”
“Oh.” Did I? “I’m fine,” I lied and smiled, willing myself to calm down.
Beatrix talked nonstop as we walked. She just went on and on about anything that seemed to cross her mind. It didn’t bother me. In fact, I enjoyed talking to her. She was fun to be around, but with each passing moment, my enjoyment of her company was slowly being replaced by anxiety.
I really liked her. Too bad our friendship had to end before we could even get a chance to become friends. There was no way Beatrix could go back to the school. They would only take her away again and I would get in trouble. I wondered whe
re she would go, what she would do.
When I saw the Institution, my heart sped up and I felt a surge of adrenaline rush through me with equal amounts of fear. As we walked through the doors, I sped up a little, trying to make it seem urgent. “Hey,” I called to a creator in the hallway walking towards us. “I saw smoke! What if there’s a fire?” I nearly shrieked, trying to feign hysteria.
The creator looked scared, not even glancing in Beatrix’s direction, and ran from the room to get help. I felt slightly sorry for him since he was most likely to be the recipient for Glen’s anger later on.
Beatrix gave me a startled look, but I grabbed her arm and pulled her down the corridor once the creator was gone.
“I didn’t see any smoke,” she squeaked.
“Listen to me,” I whispered, pulling her into one of the empty rooms and shutting the door behind me. “They’re going to do something to you. I don’t know what, but please believe me when I tell you it isn’t good. I’ve been bringing people here because they force me to and every time I see them walk out, something’s different about them,” I told her. Part of my mind chanted to stop talking, that I was disclosing too much, but for some reason, everything came tumbling out.
Beatrix stared at me in shock and fear, probably thinking I was insane and this place was my asylum.
“We need to get you out of here. You can’t go back to the school, though. If you do, they’ll know I helped you out and they’ll ...” Shut me off? I didn’t want to overload her with too much information. “... kill me,” I decided on.
Beatrix’s eyes widened.
“You need to get out of here, get out of this town. Leave as fast as you can,” I said urgently.
Her eyebrows knitted together in a frown. She opened her mouth as if to protest, to demand that I was only joking, but then we heard voices and immediately went silent.
After a moment, I opened the door and once I confirmed that nobody was in the immediate vicinity, I shot out into the hallway with Beatrix in tow. We ran down the corridor, my pulse hammering and I wondered how much anxiety my synthetic heart could take. A lot, I hoped.
We ran down the hallway and I prayed that nobody would come walking our way and see us. If they did, I could probably still get Beatrix out of the building ... but the future wouldn’t be too bright for me.
Within minutes, I spotted the back door. I had gone out that way many times to empty trash or play tag outside with Yvonne when we were younger.
I shoved open the door and ushered Beatrix outside. “Run,” I told her. “Get as far away from here as fast as you can.”
She looked at me, her eyes a mixture of too many emotions to count—fear, suspicion, shock.
“I’m sorry this happened to you,” I whispered.
“I’m sorry this happened to you, too,” she said, “and I hope you, too, can get away someday.” And with a flash of red hair, she was gone.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The door to my room burst open. Glen stood in the dim light.
“Hi,” I said, getting up from where I was sitting. I picked up a toaster and a blackened piece of toast from the table. “Yvonne burned her toast. I saw the smoke outside the window and jumped to conclusions,” I confessed. “I’m sorry to get you guys all excited about nothing.” I displayed my best apologetic look, wishing with all of my might that he would believe my lie.
Especially considering that Yvonne didn’t eat.
“I guess it's better to be safe than sorry.” I flashed him a guilty smile.
Glen shook his head. “It’s fine. What concerns us now is Beatrix's whereabouts.”
I have him a confused look. “Beatrix? You guys took her back to ... well wherever you take them,” I said, surprised at how sure I sounded.
Glen’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t take her.”
I stood there for a second trying to look thoughtful. “No, it wasn’t you it was ... hmmm ... I don’t know his name. He must be new or something ‘cause I haven’t seen him before,” I fabricated a new lie.
Glen’s frown darkened. “New? There’s no one new here. We’ve checked everyone and everywhere for her.”
I frowned also, faking a concerned look. “Then who did I give her to?” I nearly whispered, hoping to sound as if this was a total catastrophe.
Glen cursed. “Someone knows what we’re doing,” he muttered under his breath, storming from the room.
I let out a sigh of relief. They didn’t suspect me. At least, not yet.
Later that day Glen hunted me down. At first, I suspected he meant to accuse me of helping Beatrix, but then found out, to my relief, that he had another person for me to bring in. But again, this was going to be a challenge. I couldn’t use the same technique I had used with Beatrix. They would know it was me in an instant. I would have to think up some other way.
* * * *
Samantha Moore was a pretty girl in my Science class who usually sat at the back of the room and talked to no one. She was quiet and somewhat odd. She could have been popular in a second if she wanted to. With her stunning good looks, she would have been accepted into any clique or group she desired, but instead she preferred to be alone. She was an outcast by choice.
I was surprised she agreed to walk with me after school. I had expected her to refuse to even talk to me, but half way through my sentence she had jumped on it, like she had been waiting for me to ask.
She walked outside with me, her gaze focused on the ground in front of her and when I smiled at her, she didn’t seem to notice. Her attention was riveted on the grass upon which we were walking.
“So Samantha,” I said, trying to lessen the air of awkwardness surrounding us. “Do you like ... school?” I asked lamely.
She shrugged and didn’t say anything.
We walked in silence for at least five minutes and all I could hear was the quiet tapping of our shoes against the pavement. I was almost afraid to breathe, as if it might break whatever spell we were under. I kept sending frequent glances in her direction, all the while wondering why she had so readily agreed to walk with me. Her silence unnerved me.
Suddenly I heard Samantha’s voice. “I know where you’re taking me,” she said quietly.
I looked over at her, startled. “Yeah. Um, I’m taking you to my house so I can give you the math book you lost,” I replied uncertainly.
She looked up at me. It was the first time she had garnered the nerve to meet my gaze. Her eyes were dark, not in color but in meaning and depth. They watched me hungrily. “No. I mean I know where you’re really taking me.” Her voice was monotone but seemed strangely excited.
“Then you must know that we need to get you out of there as fast as possible,” I said, deciding to take the chance that she knew what she claimed she knew. There was a limited amount of time left and I had to start taking risks.
Samantha’s expression fell a little. “No.” She shook her head.
I was starting to get panicky. “No, you don’t understand. They ... they’ll do something to you ... change you. They take things from you ... they’re using you for terrible things,” I told her, noticing the Institution was coming into view.
Samantha smiled and nodded. “I know.”
“Then you have to get out of there! Get away!” I cried.
Samantha had started walking faster and I noticed we were very close to the Institution steps.
I grabbed her arm. “Listen to me,” I hissed. “You can’t willingly go in there, knowing what they're going to do to you,” I told her, wondering how she found out and why she would ever want to go through with it.
Samantha smiled creepily. “I want to be perfect,” she whispered, and I stared at her in horror, a million thoughts blaring through my head. She thought they were going to make her like ... me, like the other androids. I opened my mouth to tell her something, anything, but before I could even utter a sound, she turned and ran up the Institution steps.
My stomach dropped as I watched Samantha run throu
gh the doors like she was a child at a candy shop. My head hurt, wishing I could do anything to stop her, but knowing that I couldn’t help her if she didn't want to cooperate. I simply ran after her and watched, my jaw dropping as she eagerly followed the creators to the back room.
Regardless, I still felt like it was my fault.
Even though some of the creators had patted me on the back, telling me I had done a good job, I knew in my heart that I had failed. I had failed Samantha and in a way, I had failed myself.
* * * *
I walked briskly down the hallway at school, acutely aware of the fact that Michael had spotted me and was heading determinedly my way.
“Drew!” I heard him call. I sped up. “Drew, wait up!”
I started jogging faster and turned my head, briefly, to glance at him but just as I twisted back, I bumped into something hard and tall—a door. I stepped back, rubbing my head just as Michael appeared beside me. “Ouch.” He gave a small laugh. “So what’s up? I haven’t seen you in like ... forever.”
I groaned inwardly and shrugged.
“It almost seems as if you’re avoiding me,” he said slowly, giving me a look saying he knew that was exactly the case.
Wow. It took him that long to realize it? Yes Michael, I’ve been avoiding you, I felt like saying, but bit my tongue. As much as I wanted to hurt his feelings for breaking my heart, I didn’t exactly think it was the right thing to do. I only said, “Huh,” and moved on, leaving Michael staring after me as I walked down the hall.
The image of Michael’s hurt face came to mind and my heart panged. He had looked really upset. And lonely.
Whatever. He had Yvonne. And Yvonne had him. It still hurt my stomach to think about the two of them.
Jessica met me in the hallway and we talked briefly for the few moments it took to make it to our lockers
“So, Michael’s been asking me all kinds of questions about you. Like why you won’t talk to him,” she said slowly, eyeing me to gauge my reaction.
I groaned, yanking open my locker and hearing a tiny crack. My anger dissolved as fear replaced it and I leaned forward to inspect what I’d done. Jessica didn’t seem to notice the broken upper hinge of my locker and I slung my sweater over the top to hide it.
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