by Amy Tintera
Milo glared right back as the door slid open to reveal Officer Mayer on the roof, his hands on his hips, anger radiating off his chubby body. Suzanna stood beside him, her anger controlled, if she felt any. She simply lifted her eyebrows at me. A corner of her mouth turned up as she regarded Milo.
I didn’t blame the human for wincing.
“Take him down to interrogation for Suzanna,” Officer Mayer barked to Leb, gesturing at Milo. “Then get down to the debriefing room and wait for me. You, come here!” He screamed the last sentence at me and I bolted out of the shuttle.
He grabbed me by the arm and hauled me down the stairs like I was a child who had run off. He didn’t let go until we reached his ninth-floor office, dropping my arm to shove his key in the lock.
He slammed the door behind him and whirled around to face me, his face so close I could smell his sour breath.
He screamed something at me. I had no idea what it was.
Really. All the humans had lost it.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand, sir.” I sounded calm.
He took a visible breath. “Why did you take your com out?” he asked through gritted teeth, gesturing to it, still clenched in my hand.
“It screeched in my ear. It’s malfunctioning.” I held it out to him. He batted my hand away and the little plastic device skidded across the tile floor and came to a stop underneath his long glass desk.
“And your camera?” Spit flew into my face as he talked and I resisted the urge to wipe my cheeks.
“I don’t know; is it not working?” I asked innocently.
“What happened in that house?”
“The criminal started ranting about a Reboot reservation. Spouting nonsense about wanting to rescue us all. The officer came in since he’d lost communication, and together we took the assignment to the shuttle.”
He wrapped a hand around his fist. I thought he might be preparing to punch me. “And?”
“He kept talking in the shuttle. He said One-fifty-seven didn’t die; he escaped.”
“And?” he growled.
“That’s all. The officer told me not to speak. The human continued yelling about a Reboot reservation.”
“Did he tell you where it was?”
“No.” Not exactly, anyway. Northern Texas wasn’t a thorough description. Everything north of us was a deserted wasteland, as far as I knew.
“Did he say they were going to help you escape?”
“Yes, he mentioned wanting to help me. But I think he was just crazy, sir.”
Officer Mayer squinted at me, his wheezing and gasping the only sound in the room for several seconds.
“You think he was crazy,” he said slowly.
“Reboots don’t escape. I’ve seen them try. They’re killed. Even if they did, there’s nowhere to go.”
“What about this Reboot reservation?”
“I find that hard to believe, sir.” Not a lie. I couldn’t picture it. How did they live? Where did they get food? Why would the humans just let them be?
He stared at me, searching my face for a lie.
“I didn’t know it would get so hairy. But I sent you because I trusted you.” He sucked in a ragged breath, taking a small step back. “These people . . . I know you can’t understand this, but we saved them. We are the only state that survived, because we closed our borders early and stopped all civilian travel. And these people think they can go wherever they want and do whatever they want to do. We made these rules for a reason! We protected them and these rebels”—he spat out the word—“think they’re on some sort of mission to save everyone. They’re killing us faster. Traveling between cities, breaking the laws! This place”—he gestured wildly around the room—“is meant to protect humans. That’s what you do. You know that, right?”
Protect was not the word I would use to describe what I did, but I could almost see his point. The humans chose to let the younger Reboots live so they could help clean up the cities. Weed out the criminals and the sick without the risk of becoming infected themselves and spreading the virus further.
“Yes,” I replied.
He stepped forward, so close to me that I wanted to slam my hands against his chest and launch him across the room. “I will be watching every move you make. You breathe one word of this to anyone and you’re dead. Understand?”
I nodded.
That sounded nothing like trust to me.
ELEVEN
WHEN I RETURNED TO MY QUARTERS THAT NIGHT, I CRAWLED into bed and faced the wall. I thought there was a good chance Officer Mayer was watching me at that very minute, and I wasn’t sure my face didn’t betray the thoughts racing through my head.
Escape?
It was ridiculous. HARC had planned the facilities to make that impossible. We were monitored constantly and surrounded by armed guards, our tracker locations were a secret, and every human in the cities was more than willing to turn us over to HARC if they spotted us.
Well, not every human, apparently.
I pulled my knees to my chest and frowned, trying to make sense of it. My initial gut reaction was that the rebels were setting us up. Helping Reboots escape with a story about a reservation, then killing them. But I couldn’t see the point of that. If they really wanted to get rid of Reboots, wouldn’t they just kill them while they were on assignments in the cities? Putting together an elaborate ruse to break them out of HARC first seemed dumb, even for a human.
But if they weren’t setting us up, if they really were helping us with the hope that we’d help them, then that was smart. It was rather optimistic on the humans’ part, to expect cooperation from Reboots, but it was a solid plan if they wanted to get rid of HARC.
I squished up my face. I didn’t know how I felt about humans deciding to work with Reboots. It made it harder to hate them when they started introducing common sense into the equation.
I barely slept that night, and when I rolled over in the morning Ever was curled up in a ball, her fingers shaking as she clenched the covers to her chin. I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, quickly averting my eyes when she noticed me staring.
I wanted to talk to her about what had happened the night before, but it seemed mean. If anyone needed to get out of here it was her, and Leb had made it clear he wasn’t interested in helping any of us. What would I say, anyway? Some Reboots get to escape, but looks like it won’t be you or me?
I slid out of bed and pulled on my running clothes, taking another glance at her before I left the room and headed down the hall. Twenty-two was waiting on the track, his eyes big and round and full of regret.
“Wren, I’m—”
“Let’s just run,” I interrupted, avoiding those eyes. They made me feel guilty again, and I didn’t want to feel guilty when he was the one who thought I was a monster.
I took off running and he followed, both of us silent as we circled the track. He stayed quiet through the whole run, and through the training that afternoon. He continued to give me a look I took to mean he wanted to apologize, but I ignored it, speaking to him only about training.
“I’ll meet you on the roof in an hour,” I said when we’d finished training for the day. We had a sickie assignment that night, and I was grateful for the break. Extracting sick humans for delivery to the hospital was an easy assignment, one that was difficult to screw up. And it rarely involved violence.
Twenty-two nodded and I turned to leave, catching sight of Leb leaning against the gym wall, his eyes on me. I let Twenty-two walk in front of me, and as I approached the door I slowed, pausing with half my body out.
“Thanks,” Leb whispered, his head lowered so he was speaking to the floor.
“Do you still have it?” I asked, my face turned toward the door. “The tracker locator?”
“No. I returned it so they wouldn’t suspect someone inside had helped him.”
I gripped the edge of the door, Ever’s shaking body flashing in front of my eyes. “And you really can’t—”
“No.”
“But—”
“No.” His eyes slid to the camera on the wall. “Go. Mayer’s going to notice you talking to me.”
He was right, and I sighed as I pushed through the door into the hallway. Maybe it wasn’t even a good idea to try to help Ever escape. She wasn’t in the best shape, and they would certainly send HARC officers out immediately to track down an escaped Reboot. It was hugely risky for any Reboot, but a Fifty-six who wasn’t in top shape? Even if I found a way to go with her, the chances of her surviving were slim at best. Maybe she was better off here.
I stuck my helmet on top of my head and tightened the strap under my jaw, casting a nervous glance at Ever. She adjusted her com with trembling hands, much shakier than this morning.
“You need help?” I asked.
She shook her head, pushing the com into position in front of her mouth. “Is Callum doing better?”
“Fine,” I muttered.
“He feels really bad, you know. Maybe go a little easy on him? The first few weeks here are hard.”
I shrugged, even though I thought she could be right. Twenty-two’s big, sad eyes floated through my head, and I let out a sigh.
Ever stood and her legs promptly gave out. She crumpled to the floor, gasping.
“Are you—” I stopped as her head shot up and her glazed eyes fixed on me.
She rocketed to her feet and flew at me. We hit the ground and she slammed my shoulders down, pinning me with her body.
I kicked my legs but she didn’t budge, only bared her teeth and growled at me.
Two humans appeared outside our room, one holding a clipboard. Ever’s head whirled around and she darted for them. The doctor with the clipboard quickly pushed the lock button.
I slowly got to my feet, keeping my glare on the floor instead of directing it at the humans.
Pound.
Pound.
Pound.
I closed my eyes, listening to Ever’s rhythm. I didn’t want to do this tonight. I wanted the real Ever back, the one who made me feel better and wanted to walk to the cafeteria with me.
I missed her.
I opened my eyes and sighed. Ever slowly turned, scowling at me as if that had offended her.
“Watch yourself, One-seventy-eight,” the doctor outside called.
Oh, thank you, human. That is just so helpful.
She bounded to me like an animal, grabbing my shirt as I tried to duck away. I heard the tear as she ripped a chunk off the back. She seized what was left and tugged me to her, wrapping an arm around my stomach. I felt her teeth scratch my neck and I elbowed her in the side, wriggling out of her grasp.
I jumped onto my bed, but she was too fast. Her fingers circled around my wrist, jerking my arm from its socket as she pulled me to the floor. She leaped on top of me and clamped her fingers around my neck.
A tiny whimper escaped my mouth. I pressed my lips together, ashamed, and hoped the humans hadn’t heard it.
But Ever had. Her eyes cleared and she snatched her hands off my neck, horror settling onto her pretty face.
“I’m sorry,” she said, scrambling away from me. She looked from me to the humans outside, her eyes filling with tears.
“It’s fine,” I rasped, sitting up and leaning against my bed. My arm sagged strangely. “Will you put that back in?”
She grasped my arm and yanked it back into the socket, keeping her head down as tears began spilling over her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered again as the humans walked in.
“It’s fine, Ever. Really.” I smiled at her but she wasn’t looking at me.
“Feeling a little weak?” the doctor asked in a kind voice, like he wasn’t the one who had done it to her.
She nodded mutely and he held out a syringe, gesturing for her arm.
“That’ll help.” He pushed the liquid in and patted her on the head.
She closed her eyes and took in a few breaths.
“Is that better?” he asked. “Do you think you can go out on assignment tonight?”
She nodded, wiping at her cheeks with her fingers.
The human chewed on his lip, considering for a moment. “It’s just sick extraction tonight, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Ever said.
“All right.” He pointed at me. “Change your shirt. It’s split down the back.”
They left the room and I stood up, tugging off my black shirt and pulling out an identical one. I put it on over my undershirt, adjusting my helmet and camera.
“You ready?” I asked, offering Ever my hand.
She kept her head down as we walked to the roof, oblivious to the many glances I threw her way. We couldn’t talk about it now, anyway, with our coms on and humans listening to every word.
Twenty-two and the other Reboots were already in the shuttle, strapped in. Hugo and his newbie were the only other training team going out tonight; the rest were veteran Reboots. Mostly Under-sixties, except for Marie One-thirty-five, who was on her second solo mission since our training. Sickie assignments didn’t require much skill. I eyed the Under-sixties as I stepped inside the shuttle, looking for signs of the insanity I’d just seen from Ever. But their eyes were downcast, their expressions blank.
Two officers stood in the corner of the shuttle. A young guy named Paul, and one I didn’t know. The stranger sneered at us and pointed his gun straight at me, showing off yellow teeth.
“Sit,” he ordered.
Two officers wasn’t a good sign.
I slid into the seat next to Twenty-two and ignored his efforts to catch my eye. Not in the mood.
We traveled to the heart of the slums in silence, filing out of the shuttle when Yellow Teeth barked the order. The slums were warmer tonight, the chilly breeze from the last few nights gone.
“Do you have your map?” I asked Twenty-two, handing the assignment slip to him as the shuttle door slammed shut behind us.
He nodded, holding it up to me.
“Sickie assignments are easier,” I said as he studied it. “We’re just extracting the sick who are contaminating the city.”
“Why do they care?” he asked, gesturing to the shuttle.
“They’re trying to rid the human population of disease. They can’t if these humans walk around infecting everyone. They’re preventing a second mass outbreak.”
He frowned but said nothing. “That way?” He pointed.
“Yes.”
We headed down a dirt street populated by little homes and tents. This area of town hadn’t been completely built up yet, with some humans still living in makeshift houses until they constructed something sturdier. It was the worst of the slums, and the smell of death and sickness tickled my nose. The warmer weather made the stench worse, although not nearly as bad as the summer, when it got so strong I had to hold my breath.
I stopped in front of a tent made from some sort of plastic material. It wasn’t particularly sturdy; in fact it was so full of holes I doubted it provided much shelter at all. The thin tree branches holding it up looked shaky at best.
“Bell Trevis,” I called.
I heard a cough from inside; then the tent flaps parted and a young woman scooted out. Her greasy dark hair was matted to her head, her eyes sunken and black. Red flecks spotted her chin. Probably from when she coughed up blood.
She lifted her arms toward us. The sick rarely fought.
“I got her,” Twenty-two said, scooping her up.
“You need to cuff her,” I said.
“Why? What’s she going to do? Run?” He looked down at the human. “KDH?”
She nodded, her head wobbling around like a newborn. He carefully placed it on his chest.
“Don’t talk to her, Twenty-two.”
He only frowned in response and turned away as he headed for the shuttle.
“Twenty-two!” I let out an exasperated sigh and spoke into my com. “Wren One-seventy-eight with Twenty-two. We have the assignment.”
“Proceed to shuttle. Control your newbie, One-seventy-eight.”
I jogged to catch up with Twenty-two, who had his head down, speaking to the human.
“You eventually won’t feel anything at all,” he said.
“Twenty-two!”
“Everything goes numb. You won’t even realize it when you die—I promise.”
“You don’t speak to the humans,” I said, grabbing his arm. He stopped and glared at me. He yanked his arm away but was silent as we continued. He set the human down gently in the shuttle with the other sickies, pretending not to notice my annoyed expression as we trudged to our own shuttle.
The other Reboots stood in line and we joined the end. I felt my stomach clench as the officers frowned at us. Something was off. I glanced at Ever but she stared blankly at the ground.
“We’ve got Reboots bringing in items from the field and threatening officers,” Paul said. “We gotta search before boarding now.”
I took off my top shirt and spread my arms, like usual.
“Everything,” Paul said with a wave of his hand. “Undershirts, too. Pull your pockets out and drop your pants. Leave the underwear. We don’t need to be seeing that.”
The other Reboots followed the order immediately, shirts coming off and pants hitting the ground with a soft swish.
I fingered the button on my pants, my eyes flicking to the bare chests down the line. None of them even seemed fazed by the order. They’d probably all seen one another in their underwear anyway. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that even Twenty-two had followed the order.
No one had ever seen me without my clothes on.
“Hey.”
I looked up to see Yellow Teeth lift his gun at me. He jerked his head, indicating for me to follow the order.
My fingers trembled so badly I couldn’t undo the button on my pants. It wouldn’t go through the hole. This wasn’t even the bad part. The pants, fine.
But the shirt. I couldn’t take off the shirt.
“Who is that?” Yellow Teeth asked.
“One-seventy-eight,” Paul said.