The Marked

by Inara Scott

  “They don’t care,” I said. A single curl kept falling into my face, and I brushed it back impatiently. “They just think that because it was Jack, I didn’t even try.”

  “Who assumes that? Cam?”

  I hesitated. “He probably thinks that now. Now that Anna told him about me and Jack, and he knows about the phone calls.…” I jabbed at the paper with my paintbrush. “It’s hopeless.”

  “How about you tell me your side of things?” Barrett said softly. “It might help.”

  I hesitated for only a second before the words came pouring out. I told Barrett everything. I told him how close Jack and I had been last semester, and how I’d pushed him away after he kissed me. I told Barrett how much I missed Jack even now, and how I’d talked to him on the phone when I knew I should have hung up.

  “Jack’s your friend,” Barrett said simply. “You couldn’t turn him away. I understand.”

  “But he’s one of the Irin,” I said. “I can’t be friends with him anymore.”

  “If I were you, I’d make that decision based on the person he is, not the group you think he’s a part of.”

  I studied the empty page in front of me, Barrett’s words ringing in my ears. I decided not to bother with form this time, instead mixing red and blue together on my palette. I pulled a thick brush from the pile of clean ones and began covering the paper with a deep, rich purple. “I just can’t believe he was involved in something like turning those paintballs into rocks,” I said. “He must have changed. The Jack I knew wouldn’t do something like that.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Barrett asked.

  Are you? Honestly, are you?

  I set down my brush, defeated. “No, I’m not.”

  “Just because he wasn’t like that when you knew him doesn’t mean he isn’t like that now. They prey on hate, Dancia, and incubate it. It’s part of who they are.”

  “But why?” I said. “I’ve never understood why they hate us so much.”

  Barrett sighed. “They were all students here once—or at least, most of them were. I didn’t recognize Thaddeus, but I knew a lot of the others.”

  I was astonished. “How’s that possible?”

  “You know they don’t let everyone into the Program, right? Even some Level Three Talents aren’t brought forward to Initiation.”

  “Of course. That’s why they watch the first year. To figure out who they can bring in,” I said.

  “Right. So, imagine you’ve got a bunch of Level Three Talents who aren’t brought into the Program. Where do you think they go?”

  “They go…to regular schools?” I said tentatively. “Or stay at Delcroix but don’t find out about the Program?”

  “They don’t want a bunch of Level Three Talents running around here if they aren’t going to be trained. Too much potential for them to discover sensitive information. Mr. Judan finds the parents a new job or gets the kid a scholarship somewhere else, and they move away. Most of the time it works out fine, and they never know what could have been. But sometimes they do find out, and they don’t go happily.”

  I pictured the tan Buick driving down my block, Watchers coming after Jack with guns at the ready. “Like Jack.”

  Barrett nodded. “Like Jack. The Irin search for people like him, who are alone and scared. We made them, Dancia. Before the schools and all the watching, the Irin were scattered, unorganized, nothing like the force they are now. That’s why no one likes to talk about them or where they came from. It’s like admitting you caused your own cancer. Everyone wants to sign up to eliminate them, but no one wants to say they created them.”

  I set down my brush and held my arm against my chest, resting my shoulder. “How do you know all this?”

  “I had a friend like Jack—a clairvoyant named Sierra. She figured out about Delcroix when she was a freshman. And like Jack, they didn’t trust her. She was…unstable. The visions had messed with her brain when she was a kid.”

  Struck by the sadness in his voice, I turned my full attention on him. “And they kicked her out?”

  Barrett hopped off the table and walked over to the window. “Judan sent her back home. He told her parents she was sick and they couldn’t care for her here. Her parents thought she was schizophrenic. They arranged for her to see counselors and get drugs, but all it did was make her worse. She killed herself last year.”

  “Oh, Barrett.” I walked over to stand next to him, placing my hand on his arm. He swallowed, and the tendons in his neck tightened with emotion. “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  “Just before she died, she told me the Irin had contacted her. They told her joining up with them would mean leaving home, being on the run, and being watched. They were open about that. But they also told her if she joined them she’d have a chance to fight back against the ones who were truly dangerous. They kept calling her, sending people after her, and leaving her notes. They told her they were freedom fighters, beating back the Governing Council; but she had visions of them attacking schools and killing innocent students in the Program. It drove her crazy.”

  I pictured the Irin finding Jack somewhere, cold and alone, ready to hate Delcroix and everything it stood for. He would have believed whatever they told him.

  “Barrett, who was Ethan Hannigan?”

  He didn’t seem surprised that I mentioned that name. “Ethan was a student at Delcroix.”

  “Did they kill him?”

  He didn’t blink, just stroked his chin and said steadily, “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know, or you don’t want to tell me?”

  He shot me a hard look. “Ethan died under suspicious circumstances. I certainly wouldn’t put it past the Program to have eliminated him. He had a strong talent for controlling the weather. He was also incredibly smart and ambitious, and they believed he’d do whatever he deemed necessary to advance his own interests. He was headed for something dangerous, as far as the Program was concerned.”

  “How do you know all this?” The errant curl fell back across my face. Red and blue paint covered my fingers, so this time I pushed it behind my ear with the back of my hand.

  “I got some information from Sierra, and my father told me what he knew, which wasn’t much.”

  “So what am I supposed to think about all of this?” I crossed the room to get to the window. The green lawn beckoned to me, and I imagined leaving Delcroix and all its secrets and mystery behind and running away through the woods. But what would I lose if I ran away? Friendship? Love? A chance to do something good, maybe even make up for some of the wrongs that had been done in the past?

  “Damned if I know.” Barrett ripped the page from his easel. “My father believes in the Council and the Program. He thinks he can make things better if he just keeps fighting.”

  “And you?” I shook my brush at him. “You’d better not tell me you’re running away to join the Irin. That might send me over the edge.” My smile faded when I saw his serious expression. “Oh, no, you’re not, are you?”

  “No, of course not.”

  I waited for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, I said, “But…?”

  “Every time our Watchers kill one of their people, the Irin get madder and stronger. I’m just tired of it, that’s all.”

  “So what are you going to do about it?”

  “Me? Nothing. I’m just one guy, Dancia. There’s nothing I can do.”

  “You’re giving up?” I was astonished. “Barrett, you’re a strong Level Three. Your father is on the Council. If anyone can do something about it, it’s you.”

  Barrett carefully dipped his brush into the red paint and started making long streaks on a new sheet of paper. “Tara and I are going to bum around for a while after graduation. It’ll be fun.”

  “Fun? Barrett, they tried to kill us last week. You’re going to walk away from that to have fun?”

  He stiffened, defensive. “I don’t need your criticism, D. No one appointed me savior of the world.”

  I
had to take a deep breath, because the last thing I wanted to do was fight. I forced an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. You’re right. You’d just better make sure I have your phone number. I might need help levitating someone next year.”

  “I’ll be traveling a lot,” he said evasively. “I can’t promise anything.”

  I gripped my paintbrush, carefully maintaining my composure. “So, you’re ditching me. That’s what this all comes to. After all we went through this year, you’re just done. Done with the Program and with me.”

  “D., it’s not like that.”

  “But you can’t even give me a cell number,” I said steadily.

  “They’re going to want to use you in the Program,” he said. “I’m not sure I can be a part of that.”

  “I understand,” I said. “You’re running away. You don’t like what the Council is doing, so you’re taking your talent and all your power and running away.”

  “That’s just it: I don’t want to use my power for their purposes.” He slammed his brush against the easel, leaving the rickety structure shaking. “I’ve got friends in Europe I’ve been meaning to visit. It’s going to be a good year.”

  “Right. A vacation. I hope you enjoy it.” I grabbed my brushes and marched over to the sink, turning on the water and rinsing out the paint in the metal basin. Streaks of red, blue, and purple washed down the drain.

  I felt Barrett’s hand on my shoulder, but didn’t turn around.

  “I’m not a fighter,” he said. “But you are. You’re strong enough to be on your own, D. You don’t need me anymore. And I hope you keep fighting. Whether I’m here or not.”

  I ran up the stairs after class, unable to look Barrett in the eye or give him a hug good-bye. I felt betrayed, and I couldn’t pretend otherwise. I had always assumed he would be around for me, even when he wasn’t at school anymore. It gave me hope when I contemplated life at Delcroix during the coming year. Now that little bit of hope had been taken away, too.

  I passed Esther in the hall; she was flirting with some junior I barely knew and I didn’t even bother to say hi. She caught up with me a moment later.

  “Way to ignore me,” she said, pulling out a compact and peering at herself in the tiny mirror as we walked.

  “Who’s that guy, Esther? I thought you were with David.”

  “That’s Alex. Isn’t he cute? He stopped me in the hall to talk to me. He said he’s been watching me all week.” Her lips tightened. “And you know I’m not serious about David. We were just hanging out together.”

  I shook my head. “Whatever you say.”

  “David and I are friends,” Esther said. “It isn’t like I’m cheating on anyone.”

  “Of course not,” I said sarcastically.

  “You’re in a foul mood,” she observed. “What happened? And where’s Cam been lately? I haven’t seen him around.”

  “I don’t know. We’re taking a break.”

  “What?” She snapped her mirror closed and grabbed my arm. “Are you serious? When did this happen?”

  “A week ago.”

  Her mouth fell open. “You broke up with Cam a week ago and didn’t tell me?”

  “We’re taking a break,” I repeated. “We didn’t break up. There’s a difference. And how was I supposed to tell you? Every time I look for you you’re wrapped around a different guy.”

  She pulled me to a stop. “It’s been a month since spring break and I’ve dated two guys. You make it sound like I’m some kind of slut.”

  I immediately felt bad, but I was too upset to reverse myself completely. “Of course you’re not a slut. It’s just hard to get your attention these days.”

  Esther adjusted a barrette in her hair. “That’s rich, coming from you. How many times have you blown me off this semester because you had to make time for Cam?”

  I thrust my hands deep in my pockets and stared down at my old sneakers. It would be the perfect ending to my day if I managed to destroy my friendship with Esther. “I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s just been a rough week.”

  Her voice softened. “Can we talk about it?”

  “I don’t think so. Not right now.”

  “Then we’ll just sit around and make fun of Catherine. How does that sound?”

  I smiled reluctantly. “You know, she’s actually been okay lately.”

  Esther stumbled back dramatically. “What? She’s been okay? Did anything else in your life change in the past few days? Did you grow a third arm or become a saint or something?”

  I laughed. “Her parents are splitting up and she’s going through a hard time. I don’t think she has a lot of other people she can talk to about it.”

  “Of course not,” Esther said. “She’s a freak. And she was mean to you for the first eight months of school, so don’t expect me to forgive her so quickly.”

  For a minute, with her hands on her hips and a look of maternal irritation in her eyes, Esther resembled her old, sturdy self.

  “I appreciate the loyalty. But seriously, you have to be nice.”

  “Hmph.” She narrowed her eyes. “We’ll see. She says one mean thing and I’m back to hating her.”

  “Deal.”

  We headed down the marble steps on the way to the Res and were immediately pelted by rain. Esther held her backpack over her head. I started running, and she followed a few paces behind, panting by the time we reached the door.

  “You can’t be out of breath from a two-hundred-yard run,” I said.

  “Yes, actually, I can. That’s the most I’ve run since cross-country season ended, you know.”

  We laughed, and I realized how much I’d missed her. We walked up the stairs arm in arm, and for a moment, it almost made up for everything else in my life being so rotten.

  “Can you believe there are only three more weeks of school?” Esther asked as she opened the door to her room.

  I collapsed onto her bed. Unlike me, Esther had a fancy matching comforter and pillowcase. I buried myself in the soft material and blocked out all thoughts of Barrett. “I can’t,” I said. “And the camping trip is next week. Do you think there’s any way I can get out of it? Tell them I’m allergic to the great outdoors or something?”

  Each year, the freshmen took a four-day trip to the San Juan Islands. It was supposed to provide a little break before the final push to the end of school. We would drive out on Monday and return on Thursday. The team leaders from orientation and a few other juniors came along to lead groups on kayak trips and nature walks. Cam would be there. So would Anna and Trevor.

  A few weeks ago, this had sounded like a delicious opportunity for Cam and me to sneak off into the woods together. Now it just sounded depressing. I couldn’t help noticing that they were bringing all the juniors from the Program, probably as Watchers. A camping trip would be a great opportunity to stress people. They probably planned to dump us all into the frigid waters of Puget Sound to see how we reacted.

  “So what’s Alex like?” I asked. “Isn’t he on the Model UN team with Hennie?”

  “I don’t know,” Esther confessed. “I’ve barely talked to him. It was just flattering, you know, that he was interested in me.”

  “A lot of guys are interested, Esther.” I indicated her new look. “Wasn’t that the whole point of this?”

  “I guess.” She stared into the mirror beside the door and then pulled her makeup bag out of her backpack and began touching up the eyeliner at the corner of one eye. “But to tell you the truth, it’s getting a little old. I have to focus all the time on my hair and clothes and trying to be cute and flirty. And these guys only got interested in me because of how I look—so what happens if I can’t keep it up?”

  I couldn’t disagree, so I just nodded sympathetically.

  Esther gave herself one more long look before turning back to me. “You think I need to give it all up, don’t you?”

  “Esther, I want you to be happy. If this makes you happy, then I’m all for it.”

  �
�Why do I hear the word but at the end of that statement?”

  I hesitated, trying to think of a way to tell her what she needed to hear without betraying Delcroix. “I think you have a gift. You can become whoever you want. But that means you’ve got to fight to keep a hold of who you are. I think if you aren’t careful, the real Esther could get lost under all of this.”

  Esther nodded sadly. “I hate to say it, but I think you’re right. At least now that I’ve spent all this time being someone else, I have learned one thing about the real Esther: she is not a boy magnet.”

  “She’s something much better than a boy magnet,” I said softly. “She’s my best friend.”

  Esther sat beside me in her desk chair. A framed picture of her and her mother stood on the windowsill beside her; it showed the old Esther with her round face, frizzy black hair, and huge smile. “Thanks,” she said, “but enough about me. Tell me what happened with Cam. Last I heard, he showed up at your house after spring break and made out with you in a car for an hour.”

  “It wasn’t an hour,” I said. “And it’s hard to explain. We had a fight.”

  “About what?”

  I struggled, as I always did, when trying to figure how much I could say to Esther. “I never told Cam about how Jack and I had hooked up last semester. Somehow, Anna found out and told him. He was pretty upset.”

  “But you two weren’t even going out then. What was he so mad about?”

  “He was hurt because I hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him. He said he’d always trusted me and it wasn’t right that I didn’t do the same.”

  Esther patted my shoulder gently. As we talked, some of the curl returned to her hair, which she took such pains to straighten these days, and something in her face softened. It was hard to describe exactly what changed, but it made me feel much more comfortable. “I can sort of see his point. Why didn’t you tell him?”

  “Because of stupid Anna.” I pounded my fist into Esther’s flowered pillow, imagining it was Anna’s face. “She got me all nervous and worried that Cam would be upset if he found out. I should have known better than to listen to her.”