by Amy Tintera
“In Austin?” he asked. Silly question, as I could tell he already knew the answer.
“Yes. I’ve forgotten a lot. But yeah, it was like this.”
“And you grew up in . . .”
The sympathetic expression on his face annoyed me. The last thing I needed was pity from a rico boy.
“Look at your map,” I said sharply. “You need to get familiar with Rosa.”
He pulled his map out of his pocket and I couldn’t help thinking that he was relieved to be looking anywhere other than at me.
“Which way?” I asked.
He pointed in the wrong direction.
“That’s north.”
“Is north wrong?”
I sighed. “Yes.”
“Sorry.” He fumbled with the map, dropping one side as pink spread across his cheeks. A pang of sympathy struck my chest. I hadn’t been good at reading maps as a newbie. Humans didn’t need maps. Their lives consisted of the same ten-to-fifteen-mile space.
“You’re here,” I said, pointing to the spot on the map. “We’re going here.”
He raised his eyes to mine and smiled. “Okay. Thanks.”
I took off down the street and he skipped to keep up. He glanced behind him and I turned to see Leb leaning against the shuttle, his eyes on something in the distance.
“He stays there?” he asked.
“Yes. Officers stay with the shuttle unless they lose audio or video feed on a Reboot. Then they will come look for you. But don’t expect them to help you with your assignment. They’re only here to keep track of us.”
We turned a corner and I crept across the patchy dead grass to the door of our target, Thomas Cole. He had killed his son.
They always gave me the child murderers.
I didn’t object.
It didn’t say so on the assignment slip, but there was a very good chance he had killed his son because the child died and then Rebooted. Once a human became a Reboot, they were property of HARC, and though HARC had no qualms about killing us later, civilians weren’t allowed to make that decision. Even if it was their own child. A few parents went the other way, attempting to hide their Reboot children from HARC, but that also led to arrest.
I didn’t think most parents minded when their Reboot children were shipped away. They were glad to be rid of us.
“First?” I asked, looking back at Twenty-two.
“Knock.”
I nodded. It gave them a chance to come willingly. It rarely worked.
I knocked and held my fist up to Twenty-two, counting out five fingers.
Then I kicked the door in.
Every piece of furniture Thomas Cole owned was piled in front of the door. Not the first time an assignment had blockaded the front door, but definitely one of worst attempts.
I pushed the old, rickety furniture out of the way and hopped over the rest. The people who barricaded themselves in their homes had nowhere else to go. No friends. No family. No human would touch them.
A smile crossed my lips. I quickly wiped it off my face as Twenty-two climbed over the furniture. He would think I was insane, smiling at a time like this.
Two bullets bit at my shoulder as blasts erupted from the hallway. Humans were forbidden to own guns. Many did anyway.
I pointed for Twenty-two to get out of the way. He stumbled over a chair, his eyes fixed on the holes in my shoulder. I ducked as another shot whizzed over my helmet and Twenty-two pressed his body into the rotting wood of the wall.
I ran to the hallway, using my arm to cover my face. Depending on the type of gun he was using, my helmet might offer no protection at all from a direct shot.
But he was a lousy shot. I felt one in my chest and another scrape my neck as the blasts rang in my ears. When I rounded the corner and came face-to-face with him he missed from three feet away.
He was out of bullets with that last shot.
“Twenty-two!” I yelled. Teaching mission.
Cole sent his foot straight into my stomach. A gasp escaped my mouth and my back hit the wall with a loud crack.
He took off at a full sprint to the back door and I hauled myself up to my full height. The pain pinged at me in several places—how many times had he shot me? Four, perhaps. Only two had gone straight through. I was going to have to dig the other two out with a knife when I got home.
“Come on,” I called to Twenty-two as I took off after the human.
I only caught a quick glimpse of the terror on his face before I was running at top speed down the dirt road behind Cole. His long legs kicked up dirt as he flew down the street.
I picked up the pace, Twenty-two’s footsteps pounding behind me. At least he could keep up now.
I jumped over the trash bin Cole threw in my way and he disappeared around a corner. He was faster than the average human.
The chase felt good.
I rounded the corner and sidestepped his swing before his fist could make contact with my face.
I loved it when they got cocky and stopped running.
What harm could that little blond girl possibly do to me? No human had ever said it to me, but I’d seen it in their eyes.
I delivered a swift punch to his jaw to answer the question.
He stumbled and I punched him again. Blood on my hands this time.
I took his legs out from under him with one kick and I slapped the handcuffs on his wrists. He let out an angry scream and kicked his feet, frantically trying to make contact with my stomach. I grabbed the foot cuffs and bound his ankles.
I attached the leash and looked up at Twenty-two. His chest rose and fell so quickly I thought something might burst out of it. His face was red, although it seemed more from anger than running.
“Secure the feet if they’re runners,” I said, pointing. “Especially if they’re fast.”
Cole spit on my shoes, so I gave him a kick in the mouth. Not necessary. But it felt good.
“Wren One-seventy-eight with Twenty-two,” I spoke into my com. “Assignment secure.”
“Proceed to shuttle.”
I looked up at Twenty-two. “Do you remember how to get back?”
His breathing had slowed. His panic, however, had increased. The smiling Twenty-two, the boy in the shuttle ten minutes ago, was gone, replaced by the terrified Reboot staring at me. His eyes flicked over the bullet wounds still seeping blood all over my body, then to the man I had tied at my feet.
They all looked terrified the first time; I suppose I should have known Twenty-two would be worse.
I pointed in the right direction but he didn’t move. I hauled Cole through the dirt and past him, grabbing his arm and giving it a tug.
“Let’s go.”
He said nothing; I had to glance back to see if he actually followed. He did, trudging along with his face turned to the ground.
“Hey! Hey! Help me!” Cole yelled.
I whirled around to see a human crouched at the side of a building, his arms wrapped around his thin brown pants. Twenty-two stopped and the human fell backward, panicked gasps escaping his mouth. The human’s eyes met mine and I saw the flash of recognition. Many humans in Rosa knew me from my five years of assignments. They were never pleased to see me.
Twenty-two drew a shaky breath as he looked from me to the horrified human.
“Curfew violation,” I said into my com.
The human let out a yell, scrambling to his feet.
“Leave it,” the voice on the other end said.
I jerked my head at Twenty-two, but he was watching the human throw terrified glances over his shoulder as he ran.
“They ordered us to leave it,” I said, pulling on Cole’s leash again. I turned and Twenty-two followed a few seconds later.
I threw Cole in the human shuttle and we walked to the adjacent one in silence. I felt like I should say something, although I had no idea what. I had a speech I usually made at this point—toughen up, accept your life, it gets easier—but I couldn’t remember it. His sad little face made me want to
say nothing at all.
We entered the Reboot shuttle and Leb gestured for us to sit down. Only Hugo and his newbie were back, so there was nothing to fill the silence as we strapped ourselves in.
The rest of the Reboots trickled in, Lissy and her newbie last. Forty-three had two black eyes and tears streamed down his bloody face. It looked as though they’d had a tough human, and Lissy hadn’t done much to get her trainee out of the way. Twenty-two gave me the smallest of grateful smiles. That could have been him. My mouth turned up just slightly.
“Sit,” Leb said, turning away as he closed the driver’s door.
Forty-three just stood there. Lissy yanked on his shirt and he whirled around, his hand smacking across her face. She gasped and shot to her feet, shoving her hands against his shoulders so hard he stumbled.
Leb strode across the shuttle and grabbed Forty-three by the front of his collar. He roughly shoved him into his seat, gesturing for Lissy to sit as well. She glared at her trainee as she strapped in.
Forty-three’s breathing was still heavy, his gold eyes fixed on Leb. The officer didn’t notice. Leb sat down and stared at his hands, lost in thought.
Forty-three’s mouth twisted, hate spewing from his every pore. I’d seen newbies have similar reactions after their first assignment, although many of them were better at concealing it. The hatred of humans, particularly of HARC officers, was understandable in a new Reboot. They were shoving guns in our faces and yelling and making us do their dirty work. It didn’t bother me anymore, but I remembered the feeling as a newbie. I’d understood my trainer didn’t have a choice any more than I did. It was the humans who made us do this.
I tried to catch Lissy’s eye, to get her to control her trainee before Leb noticed, but she was biting her nails, her gaze on the shuttle wall.
Forty-three thrust his hand into his pocket. I saw only the flash of silver as he jumped up from his seat, but I knew it was a knife. The scream echoed across the shuttle as he ran for Leb, blade aimed at his chest.
I threw off my straps and shot to my feet. The officer’s eyes were wide, his hand nowhere near his gun yet. I dove in front of Leb as Forty-three thrust the knife at him. It slid into my stomach like it was a good piece of rare steak.
Forty-three pulled the blade out, red and shaking in his hand. I kicked his leg, easily grabbing the knife as he went down. He rolled onto his knees, sobs shaking his body. He would be eliminated for bringing a weapon onto the shuttle, so I could almost understand the tears.
Some officers might have killed him right away, but Leb was the type to let Officer Mayer deal out the more permanent punishments.
“Great,” Lissy muttered under her breath, making no move to help Forty-Three.
I wiped the blood dripping from the blade on my pants and held the knife out to Leb. He still sat there, the poor, slow human. He stared at me and I raised my eyebrows and held the knife a bit closer. He took it.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
I frowned at that response. He lowered his head and I wished I’d nodded or said, “You’re welcome.” I hadn’t been expecting a thank-you. I wasn’t even sure why I’d done it. I supposed he was my favorite HARC officer, but that was a bit like having a favorite vegetable. They were all pretty uninteresting.
I went back to my seat, my hand drifting to my stomach. My shirt was soaked through with blood.
Twenty-two’s head was in his hands. I focused on the floor, glad I didn’t have to meet those panicked, horrified eyes again.
NINE
TWENTY-TWO SAT SLUMPED OVER HIS BREAKFAST, POKING AT the oats with his spoon. His hand rested against his cheek and his eyes drooped. His head was practically on the cafeteria table.
Ever and I sat down across from him, and she gave me a worried glance when she caught sight of his sullen expression. She looked somewhat better today. No growling last night. I actually slept.
“You all right?” Ever asked Twenty-two. I wished she hadn’t. He obviously wasn’t all right. The newbies rarely were after their first assignment.
“There’s no point,” he mumbled.
“What do you mean?” Ever asked.
Twenty-two looked up at me. “You’re wasting your time with me. You should have picked One-twenty-one. I’ll never be able to do this.”
Ever glanced from me to him, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. “It gets better,” she said. I could tell she was lying.
Twenty-two saw the lie as well. He frowned at her, then turned his head away, his dark eyes hard and angry.
“That guy shot you four times,” he said. “You didn’t even blink. It’s like it didn’t register with you.”
“I’ve been shot a lot. You adjust,” I said.
“You adjust. I can’t do that.”
“Her trainer shot her over and over,” Ever said quietly, and I stiffened. “She was scared, too, so he and the guards shot her until she wasn’t scared anymore.”
It was true, but I frowned at Ever for sharing. Bullets paralyzed me at first, reminded me of my human death, and my trainer found that unacceptable. He instructed the guards to shoot me until I became desensitized to it.
Some of the anger had fallen off Twenty-two’s face as he turned to me. “Who was your trainer?” he asked, disgust in every word. He shouldn’t have been disgusted. The only reason I was alive today was because I had a good trainer.
“One-fifty-seven. He died in the field a few months ago.” That was what Leb had told me, anyway. He’d been close to twenty years old.
“Shame I couldn’t meet that guy,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.
“The point is, it got better for her,” Ever said, ignoring my frown. “It’ll get better for you.”
“I don’t want it to get better. I don’t want to do it at all.” He reminded me of a three-year-old with his arms folded and his lips in a bit of a pout. It was almost cute.
“You don’t get a choice,” I said.
“I should. None of this is my fault. I didn’t ask to die and rise from the dead.”
My eyes darted around the room. I hoped the humans weren’t listening. That was the sort of thing they eliminated Reboots for.
“Pull it together,” I said, lowering my voice. “The first time is the hardest. You’ll adapt.”
“I won’t adapt. I don’t want to turn into some monster who enjoys hunting people.”
And then he gestured at me.
A knife sliced through my chest. I blinked, not sure what to make of the pain. His words echoed in my ears and it was suddenly hard to breathe.
Some monster who enjoys hunting people. I didn’t like the words, didn’t want him to think of me that way.
Since when did I care what my newbies thought of me?
“Why don’t you just piss off?” Ever’s voice, harsh and icy, made me look up. She glared at Twenty-two, gripping her fork like she was considering using it as a weapon.
He grabbed his tray and got to his feet. I stole a glance at him and saw confusion and surprise written all over his face. I wasn’t sure where either emotion came from. He opened his mouth, looked at Ever, and seemed to think better of it. He spun around and slunk away.
Ever exhaled, relaxing her grip on her fork. “That was crap. You know that, right? Utter crap.”
“What?” I was still having trouble gathering air into my lungs. His words kept spinning around my brain, taunting me.
“You’re not a monster who enjoys hunting people.”
I frowned. That assessment seemed fair. I could see his point.
“Hey. Wren.”
I looked up at Ever and she put her hand over mine. “He’s wrong. Okay?”
I nodded, slipping my hand out from under hers. Her skin was warm, much warmer than mine, and it made the tightness in my chest worse.
“I still can’t believe you picked Callum,” she said, taking a bite of her oats.
“It’s a challenge, I suppose,” I said.
“But you always
pick the highest number,” she said. “You always do things exactly the same.”
I lifted my eyes to hers to find her staring at me intently. She’d been giving me that look since our conversation in the shower. She didn’t seem sure what to make of me.
“He asked me to pick him.”
“That’s it? He asked, so you did it?”
“He needed me more.”
Her eyebrows lifted and she slowly smiled at me. “True.” She popped a piece of bacon in her mouth. “Plus he’s pretty cute when he’s not being an ass.”
“He’s . . .” I didn’t know where I was going with that. I couldn’t say not. That wasn’t true. Anyone could see he was cute. Anyone could see those eyes and that smile.
I felt warmth on my face. Was I blushing? I’d never had those kinds of thoughts about a boy.
Ever’s mouth dropped open. She’d been kidding about the “cute” thing. She clearly never expected me to agree. She burst out laughing, muffling it with her hand.
I shrugged, embarrassed to have given myself away. Embarrassed to have those feelings at all.
But it clearly pleased Ever. She looked happier than she had in days, and I returned her smile.
“Softie,” she teased under her breath.
I entered the gym to see Twenty-two standing in the corner by himself, his back to the other trainers and newbies. He still wore the same miserable expression.
I started at the flash of rage that shot through my body. The sight of him made my heart beat funny, sent prickles of anger rushing over my skin. What right did he have to be miserable, when he was the one calling me a monster? I wanted to shake him and scream at him that he had no right to judge me.
I wanted to bash his face in until he took it back.
He looked up as I stomped over, his expression softening just slightly.
“Wren, I—”
“Shut it and get in position.”
He didn’t get in position. He stood rooted to his spot and reached out to touch me. I quickly stepped away.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Get your arms up!” I yelled so loudly he jumped. I didn’t like the tentative smile he was giving me.
He didn’t put his arms up, so I threw a hard fast punch straight into his face. He stumbled and fell on his butt.