“There was a chemical spill here two years ago. Petroleum chloride. Everyone was evacuated within a ten-mile radius, and the area was declared unsafe for the next two decades. It got quarantined. But people crept back in here to live. People who didn’t have any other place to go. The government thinks it’s an empty wasteland. A no-man’s-land. But us rebels also sneaked in and have been using it as a base.”
“Is it safe here? I mean, if there was a chemical spill?”
“Safe enough. Short-term exposure shouldn’t do us much harm.” She pauses. “We have more immediate threats to worry about.”
“Such as?”
“I might not be the best person to answer that question.”
“Then who is?”
“Follow me,” Shawn says, motioning me up a flight of stairs. It’s huge, wrapping itself around the edge of the massive main room. This must have once been a pretty nice house to live in. But no longer. I see a chandelier hanging lopsided from the ceiling, most of its glass smashed. And there are rat droppings beneath my feet.
I pause for a moment, staring upward at the staircase. The top level of the house is pitch dark. I can’t see anyone there.
“I’ll lead the way,” Kelley says, stepping in front of me and Shawn.
“Why all this secrecy?”
“You’ll understand soon enough.”
She strides up the staircase. I follow, with Shawn bringing up the rear.
“You keep saying that, but I’m getting sick of hearing it,” I tell her. “I didn’t come all the way from Island Alpha to get jerked around. Tell me what’s going on. This is not the plan I agreed to.”
“You’re right,” Kelley says, sounding very matter-of-fact. “We’ve gone off the plan a little bit.”
“Tell me more.” I pause on the stairs, my fingers tightening on my knife handle again. “What happened? Why aren’t I with Gadya and the others right now? Why did you deviate from the plan?”
Kelley glances back at me. “Because someone asked us to. Someone that we trust more than anyone else. More than the scientists, even.”
She keeps walking. I follow again because I don’t know what else to do. I’m conscious of Shawn behind me, still armed with his shotgun. I think about trying to turn on him and get back down the staircase, but there’s nowhere for me to go once I get outside the house. And also, an awful curiosity keeps pulling me forward.
We reach the top of the stairs, where a closed door awaits us. Kelley knocks softly on it.
“She’s here,” Kelley says to the closed door.
There’s no response from behind it.
Just silence.
“I said, she’s here.” Kelley raps on the door again.
Still nothing.
Then I hear a faint tapping sound in response.
I glance back to see Shawn watching me closely. I turn toward Kelley again.
“Go ahead,” Kelley tells me. “Open the door. Shawn and I will wait for you downstairs.”
“What if I don’t want to open the door?” I ask.
For the first time, Kelley smiles. “I know that you do.”
Then she moves out of my way and begins heading downstairs. Shawn follows a few paces after her. I wait until they reach the bottom of the staircase.
Then I slowly reach out my hand and touch the bronze doorknob.
For a second, I wonder if I should run for it. I could rush down the stairs, slash Kelley’s and Shawn’s throats, and get out of the house and into the car. Make a break for it. But Kelley is right. I want to know who is behind that door.
Before I can think too much, I turn the doorknob and fling the door wide open.
The large room is dark, except for a thin white candle sitting on an empty oak desk. I can’t see anyone inside. Faint moonlight comes in from two large windows opposite the door, shrouded with thin white curtains.
“Hello?” I call out. I keep my voice flat and calm, despite the tension that I’m feeling. There is no answer. I take a slow deep breath and then I step inside the room.
It seems like I’m alone in here with the desk and the candle.
Then a husky, ravaged voice says from the darkness, “Close the door.”
I’m startled. I can’t see the source of the voice. I have my knife positioned to lash out if anyone tries to touch me.
“Where are you?”
“Shut the door,” the voice says again.
“Why?” I ask, straining to see into the darkness.
“It’s safer that way. For both of us.”
I reach back and slowly swing the door shut. It latches behind me.
Then I look around the room again. “Where are you? Who are you? Tell me what’s going on.”
I see a shadow pass behind the desk, in front of the windows. It’s too dark to make out any of the details. I lower my body into a fighting stance and raise my knife. “If you touch me or try to surprise me, I will stab you, whoever you are.”
“You don’t need that weapon here,” the voice says.
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
I hear the voice chuckle softly.
“Quit hiding!” I command. “Show yourself.”
“Sure. If you really want,” the voice responds.
There’s a spluttering whoosh as an oil lantern comes to life, bathing the center of the large room in a dim orange-yellow glow.
I take a step back, startled.
There is a grinning figure sitting behind the desk now, holding the lantern.
The figure is barely human. Pairs of vertical tubes and wires run down the sides of his neck. One of his eyes has been replaced with some kind of electronic sensor that whirs and tracks my every move. Wires run out of a metal plate in his chest, visible through his white shirt, and directly into a nearby computer terminal on a moveable pole, attached to a car battery. He has scars running down his forehead like vertical gashes.
But I recognize this person just the same.
“David . . . ,” I breathe.
I’m stunned to the core.
And also completely horrified.
“Alenna,” he says back to me, sounding faintly amused. His voice is nothing like it once was. It sounds like his larynx has been crushed and then reconstructed. He grins at me. Some of his teeth have been replaced with metal ones. “It’s been way too long.”
“I thought you were dead,” I say, still feeling unable to move.
I stand there like I’m paralyzed. My whole body is numb. I want to run over and hug him, but I’m also confused and scared.
How is it possible that David is alive? And how is it possible that he’s here in the UNA with me, in this house?
Slowly, David begins to stand up. I see metal braces on his legs, supporting his limbs, controlled by the electrical device across his chest. His body looks ravaged. I can’t believe that he survived his injuries.
“How did you . . .” My words trail off.
I feel like I’m going to cry.
I want to touch him, but I’m too afraid.
He takes a step toward me, around the side of his desk. I see that one of his hands is missing two fingers. They have been replaced by some strange sort of electric tendrils, made of thin metal filaments. He sees me staring and then, surprising me, he wiggles them at me.
Somehow, that breaks the spell.
“What the hell happened to you?” I ask, finding my voice again.
“You don’t like it?” he asks, smiling a little. “I think it’s an improvement over being a corpse.”
I walk across the room and around the desk, arms outstretched to hug him.
“Careful,” he says. “You don’t want to get an electric shock.”
I pause for a split second until I realize that he’s joking.
We hug, and I hold him tight. I shut my eyes. I’ve been dreaming about him for so long. But I thought he was dead. Or if he was alive, I never imaged that he’d look like this.
I pull back from him. “What did they do
to you?”
“Sit down with me,” he says. “I can’t stand up for too long. It hurts.”
I help him back down into his chair.
Then we sit across from each other at the desk. I can’t believe what has become of him. I’m trying to act normal. His electronic eye, which seems to stare blindly ahead at me, is profoundly disturbing. I try to keep the sadness from my face, but I know that it must show.
I turn my attention to the spacious room, lit by the orange glow of the oil lamp. The curtains are rotting. The furniture looks like old wooden antiques. The walls are covered with peeling yellow wallpaper. The carpet is worn away in some places, revealing old floorboards. There’s a mattress and multiple computer terminals shrouded in shadows in the right-hand corner opposite the door. The electronic devices are connected to giant batteries. There’s also another small door, probably leading to a closet or a bathroom.
“You live in here?” I ask.
“Yes. I mostly stay in this one room.”
“Why?”
“So other people who take refuge in the safe house don’t know that I’m here. And because I can’t risk anyone tracking me.”
“I saw you from the windows. It wasn’t hard.”
“I wanted you to see me. I knew you were coming, so I made an exception.”
“So what’s going on, David? Why did you bring me here? How long have you been here?” My mind spins with questions. “How did you even get here?”
“I made it out of the specimen archive in time. Once I smashed the cooling core, the fumes overwhelmed me, and burned me. But I didn’t lose consciousness. I found another exit tunnel for emergency workers and I tumbled down it. Then I passed out. I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to wake up again. When I did, it was a huge surprise.”
“Who found you?”
“The scientists.”
“And they didn’t tell me!” I practically yell.
“I told them not to. We knew I could be a big advantage if nobody knew I was still alive. They patched me up and sent me here on a secret rebel submarine a few days later. I got here about two months ago. That’s when the surgeries began and they made me what I am today.”
I feel stunned. “Did my mom know about this?”
He nods. “Of course.”
I shut my eyes for a second, feeling like I’ve been punched in the gut. How could she keep such a huge secret from me? I feel betrayed.
“I made her promise not to tell,” David says. “Don’t be mad at her. It was a question of safety. Secrets save lives. She thought you might tell Liam. Besides, she wanted to protect you.”
I open my eyes and stare at him. “I understand why she did it, but I can still be mad. At both of you.”
“Look. I’ve made more sacrifices than most people. I even spent my recovery time learning as much as I could about how to gain power, and how to win this fight. I had a lot of time to think, just lying there in bed as I recuperated. New possibilities and new strategies occurred to me. I shared them with the rebels.”
I nod. “So tell me why I’m here. That’s what I need to know.”
“I can’t tell you everything, or it will endanger your life.”
“Do your best. What’s my role in all of this? I thought I was going to get assigned to a rebel cell.”
“You are.”
“Then why am I here? David, none of this makes any sense.”
“You’re going to join a rebel cell. You’re going to advocate for them to expand and form a local army to rebel, just like all the other kids who parachuted down to the ground tonight. We are going to strike against the UNA eventually, just like we planned.” He pauses. “But there’s one extra wrinkle. You’re going to have to let yourself get captured first.”
His words hang in the air. He stares at me, a mix of flesh and machinery.
“Captured?” I say.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you, out of everyone I know, have the greatest chance of bringing down the UNA.”
“I don’t understand. Why me?”
“Because I was studying the kids on the island. That was part of my job for the rebels. I was looking for the one who had the most even temperament, but who could learn how to kill and fight without losing their humanity. I also needed someone who could blend in—who could be invisible and quiet when they needed to be.”
“But Liam’s much better at that! Why not someone like him?”
“We need a girl. You’ll understand when you get there.”
“Get where? What’s going to happen to me?”
“When you’re captured, you will be taken to an isolated rural area in New Iowa. The local rebels call it the Hellgrounds. It’s a farming community—but with a horrible twist. There are farms there, but also scientific labs. It’s where they do experiments on kids.”
I feel sick. “What kind of experiments?”
“Mind control. They don’t just want armies of drones now. They want to be able to control people and keep them functioning at a higher level. They also want to reeducate citizens there. Some of the people who have been recruited to live and work in the Hellgrounds have a religious sort of fervor for Minister Harka. They’re obsessed with him, like a cult, and they think he has divine powers.”
“That’s insane.”
“Obviously. But they’ve noticed some of the same things we have. The way he never ages, for example. They’ve started to look toward him as a god. The government obviously encourages this.”
“So it’s like the Monk all over again.”
“Worse. Because they also have the power of technology behind them. They can do whatever they want. It’s up to you to get sent there.”
“And do what?”
He hesitates. “I can’t say until you arrive.”
“David, you can’t do this to me! I’m risking my life, but you don’t trust me to know the full plan of action? That’s not fair! You have to tell me everything.”
He smiles. “This is the way it has to be. For your own good. For everyone’s good.”
“I know you’re trying to protect me,” I tell him. “That’s why you’re not telling me what I need to know. You’re acting just like Liam, and like the scientists, and like my mom. Trying to shield me. I don’t need that. I’m sick of it! I just need honesty.”
David looks at me. “I’m telling you exactly what you need to know, but nothing more. And it’s not just to protect you. If you get caught along the way and tortured, and you know all the secrets, then you might jeopardize our entire mission.”
“I would never do that.”
“Everyone has a breaking point. Trust me. I’ll give you updates when you need them. We’ll work together. You’ll be on the ground, fighting and strategizing. I’ll be here, giving you guidance and advice.”
I sigh, frustrated. “You have to tell me something more. What will happen to me in the Hellgrounds? How will we communicate once I get there? What is my purpose for being sent there?”
“You’ll wake up in a farmhouse. I’ll make sure there’s a communication device hidden nearby. I’ll get one of the rebels to sneak in there and plant it. I’ll make sure you find it.” He sighs. “And your purpose is going to involve detonating a unique device in an unusual location—I can’t say more than that.”
“A bomb?”
“Of sorts.” He just stares at me.
“What if I say no to all of this?”
David stares at me. “That’s your choice.” He pauses. “But there’s something you should know. I didn’t want to tell you, because I thought it might force your hand, or make you feel like I’m trying to manipulate you.” He pauses again for a second. “But Liam is already en route to a work farm in the Hellgrounds, as a captive. It’s the near the farmhouse where you will be sent.”
My blood runs cold. “What? How do you know that?”
“After he landed tonight, he was captured by a group of soldiers on the lookout for rebel acti
vity. Right now he’s on a truck bound for the Hellgrounds. They’ll make him do hard labor there, until they break him. That’s what they do with every rebel boy that they catch. Then the experiments begin.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” I challenge him. “You’ve lied to me so many times before that I don’t know if I can believe you.”
He smiles. “I knew you’d say that, Alenna. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” Then his smile fades. “I wish I were lying, but I’m not. In fact, I can show you.” He turns to the wall. I’m confused for a moment, until he says, “Watch.”
Suddenly a light springs forth and shines on the wall, like some kind of small movie projector. It takes me a second to realize where it’s coming from. His eye. A beam of light is pouring out of it, painting an image on the wall. It must be powered by the same large batteries that power the computers.
I stare at what I see projected in front of me. It’s images of Liam being taken by armed soldiers. He’s struggling against them, veins throbbing and muscles straining. It takes six men to hold him. They beat him with nightsticks as they drag him toward a waiting vehicle.
I’m glad that he’s alive. But all my hopes that he had escaped and would soon meet me are dashed. I have to face the truth. Liam is a hostage, and supposedly he’s headed straight to one of the most dangerous places in the UNA.
“Do you want to see more?” David asks.
“No,” I tell him. My mouth is dry. Then I add, “Yes. Keep going.”
More images unspool on the wall. I see Liam being thrown into the van. He lunges, swinging hard at the soldiers. He knocks one out cold. He kicks with both feet, and he almost makes it back out. But finally he’s just overwhelmed by their numbers. He’s forced inside the van and the doors are slammed shut and locked. The van quickly speeds away into the night.
The light emanating from David’s mechanical eye clicks off. He turns back to face me.
“How did you get that footage?” I ask.
“A rebel filmed it, hiding in the trees. He uploaded it into his computer system and I downloaded it directly into my eye.” He pauses. “So there are some advantages to getting ‘messed up’ like I did.” He smiles again, but he looks tortured to me.
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