by Amy Tintera
I shouldn’t have to take them off anyway. I saved Leb. It wasn’t me who pulled a knife on an officer.
“What’s wrong with you?” Paul demanded, shoving his gun into my back.
Every Reboot head down the line turned to me. Marie One-thirty-five frowned deeply, almost concerned, as she nodded for me to follow their orders.
I saved him. I wanted to scream it at them.
“Hey,” Twenty-two snapped, his hand shooting out and grabbing the barrel of the gun. I gasped. “Would you stop it? She shouldn’t have to if she doesn’t want.”
Paul wrenched the gun back and slammed the barrel into Twenty-two’s head. I winced as he stumbled, and I tugged at the button on my pants again. Paul stepped away from me, gun trained on Twenty-two instead.
Yellow Teeth let out an annoyed sigh and holstered his gun, striding over to me. He yanked me to him by the waist of my pants, tugging the button through the hole and pushing them down.
“Anyone else would have gotten a bullet in the brain,” he muttered, grabbing the bottom of my shirt and jerking it over my head.
I pressed my arms against my thin white bra and tried to breathe, but my lungs wouldn’t cooperate. My chest rose and fell too fast, my throat tightening up painfully.
“For the love of Texas,” Yellow Teeth said in utter exasperation, pulling my arms out to the side. “You’d think you were a newbie.”
Yellow Teeth grimaced at the sight of the ugly scars stretched across my chest and quickly averted his eyes. But the Reboots didn’t. They all stared.
I turned my head away, trying not to let my arms shake. I failed.
Twenty-two didn’t look at me. His face was turned firmly to the side so I couldn’t see anything but the back of his head. He hadn’t looked.
“All right, put ’em back on. Get in your seats,” Paul ordered.
I grabbed both my shirts and pulled them over my head as fast as possible, my eyes on Twenty-two—on Callum—the whole time. He still hadn’t looked at me.
I buttoned my pants and sat down in a chair next to him, quickly strapping myself in. My hands shook as I folded them in my lap, and I glanced over to see Callum staring at them. I pressed them together tightly to make the shaking stop, but it didn’t work.
Ever caught my eye when I raised my head, and gave me a sympathetic look that made the pressure in my chest worse, not better. I focused my gaze on my lap.
When the shuttle landed I trailed out last. My trembling legs didn’t work right anymore. I fell behind as the other Reboots marched across the roof and down the stairs.
Callum stood at the top of the stairs and waited, holding the door open for me. I gripped the rail as I wobbled down the stairs on my stupid little legs.
I felt something warm against my free hand and looked down to see Callum intertwining his fingers with mine. His skin felt pleasantly hot against my cold, dead flesh and I gripped the hand appreciatively and tried to smile at him. His big eyes flashed with worry and sympathy but he smiled back.
We slowly made our way down the stairs and through the eighth-floor door. I didn’t want to let go of him but the boys’ quarters were to the left, the girls’ to the right. He squeezed my hand and I slipped it out of his, shoving it in my pocket to try and keep the warmth.
When I got to my quarters, I avoided Ever’s eyes as I stripped off my field clothes and changed into sweats.
“Wren, it’s really not—” she began.
I frowned at her as I climbed into bed, and she stopped talking. I pulled the covers all the way over my head and curled myself into a tight ball until the darkness engulfed me.
TWELVE
“YOU MISSED OUR RUN THIS MORNING. IT’S TOO BAD, BECAUSE I was pretty awesome.”
Callum grinned at me as I walked across the gym and stopped in front of him. That big, sparkling smile had returned.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my eyes darting around the gym. A couple Reboots stared at me. “I overslept.” I focused on Callum again, my cheeks warming at the sight of that smile. “Thank you for going anyway. That’s really good.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”
I caught Hugo staring at me from across the gym and I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at the shiny wooden floor. I wanted to crawl into the corner and hide my face and never look at any of these people again.
“You gonna hit me, or what?” Callum asked.
A surprised laugh escaped my mouth and I quickly cleared my throat to hide it. But it was too late; he’d heard it, and utter delight danced across his face. “Um, yes,” I said, blushing when I looked into his eyes again.
Callum put his fists up in front of his face and I threw a light punch that he easily blocked. I threw a harder one, pulling back just before I made contact with his jaw.
“Faster,” I said. “I almost hit you.”
“You may have to accept that I’ll never be good at this,” he said, ducking as my fist flew toward him.
“No.”
“No?” He jumped as I tried to kick his legs out from under him.
“Good.”
“Thank you. No? You don’t accept it?”
“No. All my newbies are good. I’ve never lost one during training. Only two after.”
“Out of how many?” he asked, throwing a weak punch I easily dodged.
“Were you even trying there?” I asked, unable to keep a corner of my mouth from turning up.
“A little.” He bounced on his feet.
“Try a lot.”
He threw a harder punch but I still easily sidestepped it. At least it was better.
“How many?” he asked again.
“Twenty? Twenty-five? Something like that.” We swung at each other harder now, my fist clipping his chin. I caught his arm as it came for me, yanking it so hard he fell on his butt. He immediately tried to take my legs out from under me, like I had taught him, and a smile spread across my face.
“Is this funny?” Callum asked, giving up after I jumped out of the way.
“No, it was good,” I said, dipping my head so he couldn’t see the bigger grin spreading across my face.
His fingers grasped my wrist suddenly and I stumbled, my knees smashing into his stomach as I landed on top of him. He let out a moan mixed with laughter.
“I win,” he wheezed.
“You call that winning?”
He grabbed my hand as I started to climb off him, rising up on his elbows so his face was closer to mine. “Yes.”
I looked at our intertwined hands instead of his dark, happy eyes, trying to fight the warmth spreading across my body. A full-body blush. Wonderful.
“I’m sorry about what I said,” he said quietly, and I looked up at him. “I didn’t mean it.”
I slipped my hand out of his and slid off him onto the cold floor. He might be sorry, but he’d certainly meant it. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not,” he said, sitting up and leaning in close to me to talk privately. “I shouldn’t have said you enjoy hunting people just because you’re good at it—”
“I do enjoy it,” I interrupted. “In a way. The chase, especially. But . . .” I didn’t see how he could possibly understand—not at this point.
“But what?”
“But it’s not like I have a choice,” I said softly. “I barely remember my human life, and what I do remember is really bad. This is all I know. This is all I’m good at. So, yes, sometimes I enjoy it.”
“That makes sense.” He even sounded like he meant it.
“And I don’t feel things. Not the same way. I’m a One-seventy-eight. It’s true I don’t really have any emotions.”
“That’s a lie,” he said, amusement in his voice.
“No, it’s not.”
Callum leaned in closer, until I could smell the fresh scent of his skin. He smelled clean and alive and like a Twenty-two, and I wanted to wrap myself in something to hide my death stench. “Yes, it is. You beat the guts out of me the other day. That was anger
. And that look in your eyes, when you talked about your human life, that’s sadness.” I could sense the heat of his breath against my face as he tilted his head closer to mine. A smile crossed his lips as I sucked in a tiny gasp of air in surprise. “You feel plenty.”
“One-seventy-eight! Twenty-two! Back to work!” I snapped my head up to see a guard glaring at us. I quickly stood, holding my hand out to Callum. He took it and hopped to his feet.
“Forgive me?” he asked as he put his fists in position. His eyes were big and round, like a puppy begging for a treat.
“Yes,” I said with a laugh.
“Do it again,” he said, bouncing up and down in happiness.
“Do what?”
“Laugh.”
“Make you a deal. If you’re able to punch me, I’ll laugh.”
“You’re so weird.”
I released Callum for dinner after the gym started to empty that evening. I was just starting to follow him to the gym doors when I saw Ever walk in and march across to the knife-practice area. She picked up one of the dull blades and took several steps back, her body stilling as she prepared to throw.
She tossed the knife. It bounced off the wall and hit the floor.
Callum looked at me expectantly as he held the gym door open, and I waved him away.
“Go ahead. I’ll be there in a minute.” I strode over and stopped next to Ever.
She glanced up at me as she reached for the knife with shaky fingers. “Hey. You doing all right?”
“I came to ask you the same thing.”
She stepped back and threw the knife. It hit the wall a good six inches from the target. “Just fabulous.”
I watched as she took several more tries, missing every shot. Most of them didn’t even stick. She was pale and unsteady and whatever they had given her last night didn’t seem like it had lasted long.
“Gee, I wonder why I’m no good today.” Ever’s voice dripped with sarcasm as she bent down to pick up the knife after another unsuccessful throw. “Isn’t that strange?”
I crossed my arms over my chest as I tried my best to give her a sympathetic look. I wasn’t sure how it came out. I wanted to say something, anything, but I couldn’t think of words that wouldn’t sound suspicious to a HARC officer listening in.
“I would think”—she grunted as she threw the knife again—“that this is the exact opposite of what they want.” The knife lodged in the paper man’s belly. She cocked her head. “Huh. Well I guess that’ll slow him down.”
“Ever—”
“One-seventy-eight!” I turned at the sound of the officer’s voice. “Officer Mayer would like to see you in his office.”
I nodded, keeping a straight face as my stomach twisted into knots. That didn’t sound good.
I shot an apologetic look at Ever before walking out of the gym and up the stairwell. The cold, white hallway on the ninth floor was freezing, and I pulled my sleeves down my arm as I stopped in front of Officer Mayer’s door.
The door slid open and the commanding officer peered up at me from his massive glass desk. His fat fingers flicked across the screen, and he jerked his head toward a chair. “Sit.”
I did, my back rigid. Did he know about my conversation with Ever? Or worse, did he know I’d lied about Leb and Milo?
“Interesting choice of newbie,” he said, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his thighs.
I tried not to visibly sigh with relief.
“Care to explain?” he asked.
“I wanted to see if I could make a lower number better.”
He nodded, swinging back and forth in his chair. “Not going well?”
“We’ve just started.”
“He doesn’t take orders well. He talked back to the officers in the shuttle yesterday.”
“He’s new.”
“He ignores you.” Officer Mayer squished up his red face. “Or jokes around like you’re entertainment. I’ve seen you two in the gym.”
I focused my eyes on his desk, nervously rubbing my palms together. I’d never been chastised for my newbie training.
“The lower numbers are often . . . difficult, but he’s a whopper. I’m surprised you only pummeled him the once.” He leaned forward, banging the chair on the floor. “And I hear you were trouble in the shuttle yesterday, too.”
I cleared my throat. “I—”
“It’s fine.” He waved his hand. “I don’t agree with you disobeying orders, but I have told the officers not to make the girls remove their undershirts. We’re not animals, for Tex’s sake.”
I nodded. “Thank you,” I said softly. I even meant it, a little.
“I told them you were probably just frustrated with your newbie, which I understand. You should be frustrated. I’m frustrated.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and met his eyes. Frustrated was not a good word in Mayer language.
“We’re not eliminating him yet. I already had to eliminate Forty-three for trying to kill an officer. Thank you for that, by the way. Leb was very complimentary.”
I nodded again, twisting my fingers together. Not eliminating him yet.
“But he needs to shape up. You get him following orders or I’ll have no choice. You feel free to tell him I said so.”
My chest had tightened to the point where the edges of my vision were beginning to darken from lack of oxygen. They couldn’t eliminate him. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to make him better.
Officer Mayer focused his attention on his desk again, pressing his fingers to the glass. “That’s all. You can go.”
I stood up, ready to escape, but I paused when he said my number.
“I’m serious about the elimination. I don’t like to see you wasting your time. Immediate improvement or he’s out.”
THIRTEEN
I NEED YOU TO BE BETTER.
I need you to be good.
The words ran through my head as I approached the red cafeteria doors. My newbies had never been threatened with elimination before. I didn’t know how to have that conversation.
I need you not to die.
I pushed open the door and was met by a wall of noise. The guards rarely let us get rowdy, but it seemed they’d made an exception today. A few uninterested Reboots remained at their tables—all of the One-twenties, and a few of the Under-sixties—but everyone else was in the corner of the cafeteria in a giant clump. Some cheered, some punched one another, but everyone tried to push their way to the middle to see what was going on.
Callum. My eyes darted around the room, but I couldn’t find him. I found Ever, pale and shaking at a table by herself, and she pointed a finger at the crowd.
I strode across the cafeteria, anger burning in my chest. I didn’t have time for the Nineties’ nonsense. I couldn’t afford for Officer Mayer to see Callum getting his ass kicked by other Reboots.
“Move,” I said, shoving aside a few Reboots to get to the center of the crowd. I heard them start to quiet as they noticed my presence, many of them running to their tables as they caught sight of me.
I pushed a Ninety out of the way and looked down at what they were all hollering about.
It was Callum, with a little Reboot. Thirteen years old or so. The boy was crazed, thrashing about and trying desperately to bite Callum. He’d already succeeded several times, from the looks of Twenty-two’s bloodied arms.
I didn’t know the kid’s number, but I could guess. Under sixty. And recently given shots.
Callum desperately tried to run but the crowd had penned him in. The kid lunged and sunk his teeth into Callum’s arm, tearing off a piece of flesh.
Callum snatched it away with a look of utter horror and confusion. His eyes darted around the circle and rested on me, his relief obvious. I wasn’t sure anyone had ever been happy to see me.
“Hey!” I yelled. The Reboots started scattering right away and I grasped the kid’s shirt as he went for Callum again. I punched him across the face, hard, and tossed him along
the floor, in the direction of the door. Weren’t the guards going to come get him? They were just going to leave him in here like this?
A few of the Under-sixties headed for the kid so I turned back to Callum, kneeling down next to him. I opened my mouth to yell, to demand why he hadn’t punched the smaller, weaker kid trying to devour him, when he wrapped his arms around my waist and hugged me.
“Thank you,” he said, his breathing still heavy and panicked.
I stiffened at the warmth of the hug. It was too comfortable. And I couldn’t remember why I wanted to yell at him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling away and bringing his arms in to his chest. “I’m getting blood on you.”
The cafeteria was much too quiet. All eyes were on us so I lowered my voice.
“Are you okay?”
Wait. That wasn’t what I meant to say. I was going to yell.
“That kid tried to eat me.” He looked down at his arms. “Look at this! He did eat me!”
There were large chunks bitten out of his arms. I swallowed, trying to keep the disgust off my face. That kid actually bit into his flesh like some kind of animal.
What were they doing to them?
“Why didn’t you fight back?” I asked. My voice came out steadier than I felt. I needed him to be calm, and better, not freaking out about HARC’s current experiment.
“I . . . I don’t know. He’s just a kid. And I was sort of thrown off by the whole him-eating-me thing.”
“You should have fought back.”
“They had me cornered!” He glanced behind me before his voice dropped to nearly a whisper. “Besides, he’s the same age as my little brother.”
“He’s not your brother.”
“I know, but still—”
“I need you to be better,” I said.
“You’re really not concerned about him eating me?” he asked, holding his arm out again.
“It’ll grow back in a minute.”
“That’s totally not the point. I’m traumatized.”
“I need you to be better,” I repeated.
“I—”
A scream echoed through the cafeteria and I spun my head around to see the crazed kid leaping through the air for a guard who had just come through the door. It wasn’t natural, how high he could leap, even for a Reboot.