David promised me he’d tell me what to do once I got to the Hellgrounds. But so far, there’s no indication of how to reach Liam, or what the next step in my plan is.
“David?” I murmur. “Can you hear me somehow?”
There’s no answer. I feel foolish for even trying.
The only response is the chirping of cicadas outside in the fields, and the trilling of sparrows and longspurs in the trees.
I was hoping there was a hidden microphone somewhere, hidden by a rebel at David’s behest. But obviously there isn’t.
The only answer I get to my plea is Miss Caroldean’s voice. She’s calling for me to come downstairs and help her with some laundry. I force my tired limbs to obey her.
• • •
That night before supper, I finally meet her twin eight-year-old daughters—Loretta and Lorene. Both of them have long, straight blond hair, halfway down their backs in braids.
Oddly, they look nothing like Mikal. Their eyes are blue and guileless, but they have a familiar glazed look. One that I saw many times back in New Providence, the look of true believers in the UNA. These kinds of kids would never dream of questioning a single one of Minister Harka’s laws.
They introduce themselves to me with overly formal gestures, like they’re trying to mimic their mother.
“So, you’re an agitator,” Loretta says matter-of-factly. Or at least I think it’s Loretta. They look so similar, it’s hard to tell them apart.
“Don’t use that word,” snaps Miss Caroldean. “You’re too young to know about all that. Her name is Alenna.”
“I’m sorry for calling you an agitator, Alenna,” Loretta tells me.
“Me too,” Lorene adds softly. “For thinking it.”
They both keep staring at me weirdly, their heads tilted slightly. I wonder if they’re trying to catch a glimpse of the tubes in my neck.
Miss Caroldean seats her family around the table, but I get seated back away from them, against the wall, watching. I am not allowed to share in any of their delicious-smelling food: a roasted ham, potatoes, carrots, spinach, and eggs. I have a small ceramic plate of corn bread in my lap, along with one hard-boiled egg. An elderly farmhand, silent and grizzled, helps tend to the food in the kitchen.
“Now let us give thanks to Minister Harka,” Miss Caroldean says. Everyone around the table holds hands. But they don’t hold hands with me. I notice that Mikal has already sneaked some bites of ham into his mouth, without anyone noticing. It’s like they’re about to pray to Minister Harka. Like he’s become some sort of god in their mind. Just like David said.
The twins glance over at me, their blue eyes sparkling in their pale faces. “Watch us and learn,” Loretta says somberly.
I nod, thinking about how creepy this family is.
Miss Caroldean shuts her eyes. “The glory of the UNA is founded on three things,” she declares. “Our military might, our technology, and us pioneers out here in the Hellgrounds.”
“Hear, hear!” Mikal adds at the mention of the Hellgrounds, but his mother shushes him.
“And those three things depend on the mercy and greatness of Minister Harka. Without him nothing would be possible. We owe him our lives, and our every waking breath. And we owe him for this meal we are about to partake of.” Her voice takes on a trancelike quality: “Minister Harka, you are the fields that sustain us. You are the sun that brings us light. You are the earth that we live on. You will set everything right.”
Mikal, Lorene, and Loretta recite the words along with her. At the end, they bow their heads for a moment. But not in silent contemplation. Their lips chatter wildly, like they’re continuing to pray, just much faster and more quietly. Or maybe they’re speaking in tongues.
Of course, I know that none of them has met Minister Harka personally, let alone any of his body doubles. What would the twins think of Minister Harka if they’d seen him as I have, dying on the shore of the frozen lake? Or if they’d seen his power-mad former body double, Minister Hiram, inside that vast chamber with his mutant? They’d probably be terrified.
But of course they will never see him that way. They only know the smiling, powerful man as he is depicted in all the photographs and paintings hanging throughout their house, and through the entire UNA.
After dinner, I do some more chores—including cleaning the dishes—and then I am sent to my bedroom, to “think about what you’ve learned,” according to Miss Caroldean. It’s an early bedtime on the farm. Everyone must rise at five a.m., before the sun, to get to work.
Having some time alone again is a welcome relief. I lie down on the bed thinking about my own mother. Being here on the farm with Miss Caroldean and her children brings back memories of my family.
I’m grateful that my mom is nothing like Miss Caroldean. In fact, I can’t think of anyone more opposite. I wish I were with my mom right now. In fact, I wish I’d never been separated from her to begin with. Not when I was little, and not again when I left Island Alpha.
I wonder what’s going to happen to me out here in the Hellgrounds. I feel like I could disappear and nobody would even notice or care. This place is nearly as desolate as the wheel.
Am I just supposed to wait here until I get some sign from David to start moving again? Not knowing what awaits me makes me nervous. I hope that the tubes in my neck are the only form of biological experimentation that is going to be performed on me in the Hellgrounds.
I turn over onto my side in the bed, trying to get the dark thoughts out of my mind. I need to focus on saving Liam and continuing my mission.
9 THE SOUND OF HIS VOICE
A WEEK GOES BY. I spend the days working hard, doing chores and running errands for Miss Caroldean, waiting for a clue from David about what to do next. But the more time passes, the more I worry that I’ll never find one. I think about running away, but I know that I’d probably be caught—and my senses would be cut off by Miss Caroldean’s awful switch.
I’m haunted by bad dreams each night at the farmhouse. I dream of my time on Island Alpha before we freed it, and of the drones with painted faces and pointed teeth. I dream that I’m facing down drones by myself. Stabbing and hacking at them with knives. But the stream of drones is endless. I often wake up gasping and sweaty, slightly sick and disoriented. I don’t know what these dreams mean. Maybe it’s an indication that I’m cracking under the stress.
I also worry about Mikal, and I struggle to keep my distance from him. But he continues to bait me into a fight, no matter what I do or say.
“I know you’re making plans to run,” he hisses into my ear, on my seventh day at the farm. I’ve been ordered to help him gather some firewood. “I’ve been watching you. You’re too good to be true, Alenna. You’re putting on an act for my mom. You think I can’t tell? I can read girls like nobody else can.”
I just ignore him. The alternative would be to fight him. I know that I would probably win, but in the process I would give away my strength and get punished. Besides, he’s not worth my time.
He shoves me against the wall of the barn. Startled, I drop the logs I’m carrying. They tumble everywhere. Mikal laughs. “When your act slips, I’ll be there, agitator. To teach you a lesson you’ll never forget. I’ll be sure that everyone sees who you really are.”
I bend down and start picking up the logs. Mikal walks away, chuckling to himself.
• • •
On my tenth day at the farm, Miss Caroldean summons me into the dining room. It’s late afternoon, and the yellow rays of the sun shine through the stained-glass windows, making everything glow.
Miss Caroldean is sitting at the long dark dining table. For once, her placid demeanor looks frayed. Her brow is creased.
Mikal lounges in a barrel chair in the corner, watching me. I immediately get suspicious. Something’s going on here. The look in Mikal’s eyes gives it away—smug, knowing, and cruel.
“Alenna?” Miss Caroldean begins primly. “I’d like to ask you a question.”
>
I stand there clutching a pile of wet laundry that I was about to hang outside to dry. “Yes?”
“Are you enjoying your stay with us?”
“I don’t really have a choice,” I mutter.
She sighs. “What I mean is, do you feel like you’re gaining anything from the experience? That you’re learning things? About how to live a moral life in the UNA.”
“Sure. I guess,” I lie.
Mikal keeps staring at me from the chair, like he’s expecting his mom to start yelling at me.
“Then I have another question for you, Alenna,” Miss Caroldean continues. “Why—if you are enjoying your time here—would you steal from me?”
“Steal?” I ask, confused.
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“No, I actually don’t.”
My eyes flit to Mikal. His knife is out and he’s whittling a piece of wood. Smiling that thin, crooked smile of his. Has he set me up somehow?
“Now isn’t the time for more lies,” Miss Caroldean presses. “Now it’s time for the truth.”
“I’m telling you the truth,” I protest, still clutching the laundry, even though I want to fling it in her face. “I haven’t stolen anything. Nothing at all.”
Miss Caroldean gets up and takes a step toward me. “Lying about a sin is often worse than committing the sin itself. To lie is to align oneself with the devil.”
I’m not sure what she’s ranting about, so I just say, “I’m really not lying. Honest. Why would I steal anything? I don’t have anywhere to put it.”
Miss Caroldean takes another slow, deliberate step in my direction. Mikal increases the pace of his whittling. I put the laundry down on top of a china cabinet next to me. I feel my heart beating faster.
“I’m surprised your mother didn’t teach you better than to lie and steal,” Miss Caroldean snaps. “But then again, I suppose she was a useless rebel.”
The mention of my mom unexpectedly makes me flinch. I just look Miss Caroldean straight in the eyes and say, “What is it that you think I’ve stolen?”
She seems surprised by my directness. “My rouge amulet, of course!” she retorts. “The one I always wear around my neck. I only remove it when I bathe, and I always put it in the same place near the sink. But it’s missing.” She touches the bare space on her neck, above her breasts, as if to emphasize its absence. “It’s one of my most important possessions. I know that someone snatched it. And that person can only be you.”
“That’s completely illogical,” I tell her, still looking calmly into her eyes. Mikal has stopped whittling. He’s listening closely now. “I didn’t take your amulet. I didn’t even notice that you wore an amulet.”
She acts like she doesn’t hear me. “I knew you tried to run from your fate when you fled the island, but I didn’t think you were a thief,” Miss Caroldean continues. “I thought you were better than that. Or why else would you be sent here?”
“I didn’t take your amulet.”
Miss Caroldean folds her hands together, like a praying mantis. She shuts her eyes for a moment and then opens them again, like she’s trying to control her temper. “Do you know the history of the amulet, Alenna?”
“No.”
Mikal is curled forward now, in a state of eager expectation. Openly smirking at me.
“The amulet was given to me by Minister Harka himself,” Miss Caroldean continues. “Three years, nine months, three weeks, and two days ago. On the very same day he told me to continue working this farm and this land. It was right after the death of my husband. I have worn it every day since then.” Her voice starts rising in pitch, verging toward hysteria. “Minister Harka is a living prophet, Alenna. The closest we can get to god.” Her hands are trembling. “And you have taken this amulet from me! You have stolen what is rightfully mine—the one object that links me to Minister Harka forever. Give it back right now.”
“Look, I understand that you’re upset,” I say. “But I really didn’t take it. I’m not a thief.”
“Then who is?”
Mikal’s eyes narrow. Maybe he’s worried that I’ll accuse him. But I doubt it. He’d probably be pleased if I did that. Maybe he’s even expecting it. I know he’ll just deny it. Then I’ll be accused of lying again, and Miss Caroldean will have yet another reason to condemn me. So I simply say, “There are other people who live in this house. Maybe you should talk to them.”
Miss Caroldean faces me, trembling with anger. “It could only have been you! Who else would dare to do such a thing? Confess it now, or face the consequences. No other agitator has stolen such a precious item from me—not in all these years.”
I feel sick to my stomach. This is not going well. “I can’t confess to something I didn’t do.”
“Fine,” Miss Caroldean says, walking another step forward. She’s so close now that I can feel her hot breath on my cheek. “So you’re just a filthy, lying thief. Right here in my own house. You’ve probably honed your thieving skills for years. In a rebel cell, no doubt, and then on the island, and then back in the UNA. A traitor hiding in plain sight. You were probably planning to steal my amulet so you could run away again, weren’t you? Planning to sell it for money to fund some rebel cause.”
“No, I—”
“Do you know what I do to thieves?” she asks, her voice suddenly much quieter, but dripping with venom. She leans forward, her lips almost brushing against my ear. “I give them some time alone to think about their crimes.” One of her hands slips down into the pocket of her frock. Her fingers pull out the black UNA emblem. “It’s time to dwell upon your sins, Alenna.”
She draws back from me then, standing there in the living room, clutching the emblem. Her trembling index finger wavers above the red switch. I can hear Mikal whittling again in the corner, feigning nonchalance.
I realize that Miss Caroldean is going to flip the switch and plunge me into darkness. I reach out and try to grab her hand. I want to swat it away and plead my innocence some more. But suddenly, I feel an icy sensation flooding the plastic tubes in the back of my neck.
Time grinds to a halt, like in a bad dream.
The world starts spinning.
What is happening to me?
I cry out and put my hands behind my neck, grabbing at the tubes. I try to yank them out, but it’s too painful. The tubes are part of me now, like actual veins. They feel different from before. They are rigid and cold to the touch, as though some strange icy chemical is being released inside them.
“No!” I try to yell, but it comes out as a whisper. “Don’t do this to me!” My vision constricts down to a tunnel. I hear the whooshing sound of blood in both my ears. I fall down to one knee, gazing up, trying to catch my balance.
I get a final glimpse of Mikal’s face. He’s standing up now, a few feet behind his mom. His knife is dangling down from his hand. He’s smiling at me sadistically.
Then I fall forward, sucked down into a vortex of whirling nothingness. Only blackness rushes up to greet me as I topple over.
But I don’t lose consciousness. Not exactly.
It’s just like the entire world has disappeared from under my feet. I feel like I’m floating again, just like I did in the isolation tank back on Island Alpha. I can’t even feel the hard, wooden floor that I know is beneath my body. With her switch, Miss Caroldean has disabled everything except my thoughts.
I try to call out, but I have no voice. I am trapped.
I know I must still be lying on the floor, probably with Miss Caroldean and Mikal standing over me.
I wonder how long they’re going to keep me paralyzed. Whether it’ll be a few minutes, or hours, or longer than that. I’m angry at myself. I suspected that Mikal was dangerous. I should have predicted that he’d try to get me in trouble. Now it will be harder to find Liam.
I’m inwardly cursing this awful place when my thoughts are jarringly interrupted:
“I knew I’d be talking to you again,” a raspy voice suddenly
blares in my ear. “I just didn’t know it’d take this long!”
“David!” I gasp.
“Who else?”
“How are you talking to me right now? Is this some kind of telepathy?”
“Yes. I’m using the metal filaments in the plastic cables in your neck as a radio receiver and transmitter, to broadcast my words directly into your skull and receive your thoughts. I can only come during these sorts of times. The in-between times. Times when they shut you down. Otherwise they’ll find us out. They have sensors that monitor the electrical activity in your brain. The sensors are hidden behind those crappy paintings of Minister Harka. But when they put you to sleep, they stop monitoring your brain activity. Whatever you did to get that crazy woman to block off your senses was actually a really smart move. In fact, I thought you’d get in trouble sooner.”
“I didn’t even do anything,” I say. I realize I am not really speaking—David is hearing my thoughts—but it feels like I’m speaking even if no one can hear me and my lips are not moving. “Her son set me up. Now she thinks I’m a thief.”
“Figures. Listen, we don’t have long. She can’t risk causing permanent harm to your nervous system, so she’ll flip that switch again pretty soon. If you get messed up, then the government won’t send her other rebels to look after—and she’ll lose the stipend of money and food that she gets for hosting kids like you on her farm. There are some really important things I need to tell you.”
“Start by telling me how to escape, where to go to find Liam, and what I have to detonate!”
“Don’t worry. I have a plan for you to accomplish all those things. But you’re going to have to follow it to the letter. If you screw up, then I can’t help you anymore.”
“Deal.” I stop for a moment, because an awful thought has just come into my mind. “How do I know this is really you, David? Maybe it’s someone using a voice simulator tapping into my brain. This could be a trap.”
David laughs.
“Maybe I’m just being paranoid,” I mutter.
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