“Moved on?”
I can’t see what Tesla is doing, but I hear the rough squeal of metal and feel a pinch in my neck; clearly, she has stuck something else into my skin to check the status of my microchip, though I didn’t see her grab any of the metal instruments off of the table. I bite my lip, but a whimper escapes before I can swallow it down.
“That’s right, moved on. That’s what happens when someone passes a program here. So there’s really only one way for you to find out what that means.”
A thought leaps into my mind completely unbidden, and I hazard a guess, hoping I’m wrong. “Did my mother pass her program?” I ask quietly.
Time seems to slow down between the words leaving my mouth and Tesla’s response. I realize what her answer will be before she says it, even though I am silently praying that it changes.
“Yes,” she says, turning me around and leading me to the door, “she did.”
***
I see no sign of Dori throughout the rest of the day, and I can tell that the worry is really starting to wear on Holden. He is shot at least half a dozen times more than I am during our simulation practice, and he ends up leaving early without ever having picked up his gun. It’s not like him to not at least try to shoot, or even just defend himself, and I’ve never once seen him quit halfway through a sim before.
Something in me has changed as well, but it’s not entirely due to Dori’s disappearance. I’ve known since I read my mother’s letter on the night I buried her that she had run away from home, but I never knew why. But now I think I may have figured it out.
My mother was recruited by the Digits – though I’m still not sure of the reason yet – and she made it as far as the same simulations I am facing right now. But instead of failing them, like I am, she passed. That means she did exactly what the Digits wanted her to do – she picked up her gun, and she shot someone.
Even if it wasn’t real, I still can’t picture my mother being a killer. I wonder if she ever shot anyone outside of her sim, but part of me would really rather not know.
Once the first bullet hits me, square in the shoulder, I know that today is going to be different. The pain stings as the metal cuts into my skin, but I clench my jaw and ignore it. Another shot rings out, and I duck just in time to avoid a bullet that whips over my head. I pivot my injured shoulder until the pain turns to stiffness and roll away from a bullet aimed at my shin.
But this time, I move towards the gun on the ground, not away from it. I crawl on the floor as the whirring of gunshots echoes above me and stretch out my arms until my fingertips just graze along the barrel.
My mother wasn’t a killer, and neither am I. But I was stupid to assume that I could just get through this training camp unnoticed and unaffected and earn the answers I want without working for them. I should have known that Tesla would give me an ultimatum, and this is it.
If my mother could do it, then so can I. And if she could pass her training and still escape with her life, then I intend to do the same.
I pull the gun towards me and turn it around in my hands. It’s lighter than I thought it would be, but it still puts a pressure on my palms that feels strange and uncomfortable. I don’t want to hold it for any longer than is necessary, so I quickly pull myself back onto my feet and position my fingers on the trigger.
I know how to fire a gun. I’ve seen the Digits do it plenty of times, and before our first training simulation, my group was shown the proper way to hold and shoot a firearm. We were also introduced to a few other weapons that I hope I never have to use.
The Digit standing across from me gives me an odd look, like even he is surprised by my move. If he’s just a simulation, will he still feel pain when I shoot him? Can any of the Digits feel pain? I don’t think they can; if they did, they wouldn’t put the humans in their charge through so much of it.
I square my shoulders and hold the gun out in front of me, my elbows against my chest and the gun level with my collarbone. My opponent stops firing his own weapon and watches me; his arms are still raised, but there is no longer malice in his eyes. If anything, he looks amused. I don’t think he actually expects me to follow through and shoot him.
So I prove him wrong.
Testing my own bravery, I shoot him first in the calf, then the thigh, working my way up his body to his shoulder. He doesn’t flinch or make a noise when the bullet hits him, but his image wavers and his expression flickers between amusement and shock. He looks like a glitched computer program – with broken pixels and a low battery.
The sound of the gun firing cracks in my ears like thunder; it’s somehow infinitely louder, even though it’s only a few feet closer to my body.
I expect to feel confusion, maybe a little sympathy and a tinge of anger, but certainly not pleasure. But every time one of my bullets rips through the simulation’s body my heart races a little bit faster and I feel a relief through my muscles and down to my bones. The first few shots are for my parents – the rage and sadness I felt when they died bubbling up inside of me and sliding my finger down the trigger. But after that, I can’t blame anyone else for my actions.
One shot for my mother, one for my father, another for my brother, and a fourth for Crissy and her family. I could claim a bullet each for Dori and Holden, and if I thought hard enough, I’m sure I could find reasons for the rest, too, but I don’t. I don’t think about anything but the adrenaline rushing through my veins and the cracking of the gun in the air.
My opponent’s frame flickers in and out, and he raises his hands and attempts to fire back at me, but no bullets come. My arms are starting to hurt, and the wear on my body is starting to make me feel weak. My muscles are burning, and I am surprised I have been able to remain standing for this long.
My gun roars and a shot catches the Digit in the stomach, then the ribs, and finally, in the chest. If he had a heart, I’m sure I would have destroyed it. If he was a real Digit, what would I have just shot? Probably some wires and metal springs; nothing that couldn’t be fixed. But when a human is shot that many times, they die. I would know – I was there when it happened to my mother.
The simulation finally fades out and disappears. This is the first time I’ve finished my training without having to quit and take my headband off. I sink to the ground, feeling the effects of my exertion in both my body and my mind. The gun falls from my grasp and skitters along the floor, landing in the center of the circle just outside of my reach.
I hear footsteps, and I know that Signa has come to stand beside me, though I don’t look up to make sure. He holds out his hand, and I pull the band off from around my forehead and give it to him. My hand is shaking so badly I nearly drop it.
“Excellent job today, Everly,” he says as he walks away. “At this rate, you’ll pass your training in no time.”
I don’t know whether to feel proud or disgusted in myself, so I settle for both. My stomach heaves, and I struggle to my feet, barely making it to the trashcan by the door before my breakfast makes a fast reappearance.
The door creaks shut, and I am alone once again.
Chapter twenty
I don’t see Dori again for two more days, and when I finally do, I wish I hadn’t.
The next time I am faced by a Digit in my simulation, I shoot him once in the chest where his heart should be. He flickers and fades without a change in his expression, and I throw my gun away from myself as soon as he’s gone. Signa gives me a disapproving look, but tells me that I still ‘did well’ and takes my headband back without another word.
Holden fails his next two simulations. He is shot so many times that he cries out, a pitiful wail that makes my head and my chest ache in tandem. His instructor shuts down the sim after Holden collapses into his chair, and when I have finished with mine I chance a look over at him. He’s still sitting in the same position, slumped over and sobbing into his hands.
The third time this happens, he is reassigned to the second group. I see less of him after tha
t, but we still sit together at mealtimes and occasionally loiter outside of the central building during our breaks, though we don’t usually talk. I am tempted to ask him if he’s seen Dori in his group, but his behavior makes it clear to me that he hasn’t.
On the second day after Dori’s disappearance, my simulation changes. At first, I think that perhaps this is another test – a way to see how I cope with alterations in the fighting scenario. A third person appear in my sim, standing between me and my opponent, but unlike him, she has no weapons drawn either from her hands or in them.
She’s a little girl, probably at least a few years younger than I am. Her long, blonde hair is pulled to the sides and tied with ribbons, and her eyes are such a deep brown they seem magnified against her pale skin. She is wearing a simple white dress with nothing on her feet, and her hands are clasped together against her stomach.
My opponent freezes when she enters the frame, standing with both of his arms extended and a tight-lipped smirk drawn across his mouth. It’s clear from her posture and her expression that she isn’t here to fight me, but I know better than to let my guard down – for all I know, this could be a test of how I react to an unexpected attack. Or maybe I’m supposed to shoot a small, defenseless girl; I wouldn’t be at all surprised if that was to be the next part of my training.
“Hold out your gun,” she says softly, her voice carrying like the wind. “But please don’t shoot me.”
At first I don’t understand what she’s asking of me – why should I hold my gun out if I’m not supposed to shoot it? But then I realize that I’m the only person who can see her. Signa doesn’t seem aware of the change in the simulation, so I’m guessing he doesn’t see the girl. But he does see me facing off against a Digit, with neither of us firing our weapons.
“He can’t see me,” the girl confirms before I can ask. “But everything else in here is the same. Please don’t speak,” she interrupts when I open my mouth to do just that. “Your instructor can still hear what you say. But don’t worry – I can speak enough for the both of us.”
The girl smiles broadly; her teeth are bright and crooked, with a small gap between the front two and one missing on either side of her incisors. Her smile kind of reminds me of Fray’s – so innocent and childlike. But then she sweeps her fringe to one side of her forehead and I see a glint of red metal shining against her smooth skin.
This little girl – who can’t be much more than ten years old – is a Digit. I’ve never seen one that had imperfections like crooked teeth, and I’ve certainly never seen one this young before.
“I am not your enemy,” she says, pushing her hair back over the chip in her forehead. “Your opponent has been temporarily disabled, but you can still shoot him. I would encourage you to do so soon; your instructor is beginning to become suspicious.”
I turn my head as slightly as I can and I see that she’s right; Signa is looking at me with narrowed eyes, his gaze shifting from my gun to my opponent’s and back again.
Quickly, I take aim and fire a shot that hits my enemy in the calf, careful not to shoot him in a more vital area; the longer he stays standing, the longer the simulation lasts, and I’m more than a little curious to find out what this girl snuck into my sim to tell me.
“Good. Keep doing that every minute or so and I expect you’ll have no problem prolonging the simulation. You don’t mind if I talk for a bit, do you?”
I’m about to tell her that I don’t when I remember that she told me not to speak, so I shake my head instead, just enough for her to see but not so much that Signa notices.
“Thank you,” the girl says, smiling. “My name is Rin. It’s so nice to meet you, Everly. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
I wish I could ask her what she means, but I just have to hope that she tells me on her own. It’s difficult not being able to talk when the answers I’ve been searching for could be standing just a couple of feet in front of me.
Rin waits for me to fire my gun again – a single bullet arched into my opponent’s thigh – before she continues speaking.
“I am not from this camp. Currently, I am boarding a train that will take me to your location; I’m communicating with you though your Halo – the band around your forehead that is creating this simulation. Because I have technology inside of my body, it is easy for me to send messages through other pieces of technology – though the instructors in your camp have guarded their equipment well. It’s taken me until now to find a way in, but I am very glad to have been given the opportunity to speak with you.”
It’s jarring to me just how eloquent this girl is; I know that she’s a Digit, so her manner of speaking is expected to be more proper than the average human’s, but she still looks like a little girl. It would be like if Fray suddenly started reciting poetry. But then I remind myself that Digits are just humanoid versions of archaic robots, and as such, they do not age. Rin could have been created a century ago, or just last week, and it would make absolutely no difference.
I nod for her to keep going, cocking my gun to one side and aiming a shot around her body; it hits my opponent in the stomach, and his frame begins to flicker like a dull light-bulb. There is one thing that I am immensely thankful for – that Digits do not bleed. I don’t think I would be able to shoot one knowing that they did.
“We don’t have a lot of time, so I’ll make this short. The people who brought you here may have told you that it’s safe – that they have something to offer you in exchange for your loyalty. That is a lie. They’re using you, and you’ll find that out soon enough on your own if you don’t believe me.”
“I do,” I whisper, forgetting for a moment about my vow of silence. As soon as the words leave my mouth I frantically fumble with my gun, managing to fire it just quickly enough to drown out my voice and distract Signa from whatever he may have heard. My bullet misses its target, but only by a thumb’s width of air.
Rin, however, appears to have heard or at least seen what I said. Her eyes light up like I’ve just given her the most amazing present in the world – an expression I didn’t even know Digits were capable of making.
“Wonderful; that will make things so much easier for us.” She steps aside as I fire a shot just over her shoulder, then repositions herself after the bullet makes contact. “I am on my way to you as we speak. I am going to help you escape from that awful place, and I will take you to my Division instead. You’ll be safe there, I can promise you that.”
I shoot again, aiming for the simulated Digit’s shoulder, but I miss and end up catching him in the side of his neck instead. His entire body fades in and out, blurring around the edges. I don’t have too many shots left to take before the sim is over, and so is my conversation with Rin.
Rin smoothes out the front of her dress and shifts her weight to one foot, saying, “I know you probably have a lot of questions, about how I found you, or why I am doing so much to save you. The Digits here promised you answers, I’m sure, but you need to know that they do not plan on giving them to you. The longer you stay here, the worse things will become for you. Once we finally meet – in person – I’ll tell you everything you want to know. I know about your mother, too, and I will tell you all of the things you don’t know about her.”
The simulation flares and dims again when I fire a quick shot at my opponent’s ankle. I am trying my best to shoot him in places that will keep him alive long enough for Rin to finish telling me what she came here to say, but it’s proving more difficult than I imagined. Signa is watching me more closely now, clearly aware that something is wrong; I haven’t missed my target this badly since I finally let myself shoot.
“Tell me,” I plead, speaking as softly as I can. “Please, tell me. I need to know.”
Rin shakes her head, and my heart sinks. “I’m so sorry, but I cannot do it here; there is too great of a chance of my message being intercepted. But I will come for you tomorrow, and once we are outside of your camp’s walls, I will answer every question you
have.”
The girl’s body shivers and she holds her hands out in front of her, watching them flicker before her eyes. She doesn’t look surprised or alarmed, but her eyes narrow and she takes a step towards me. The outline of her dress is fading, and her skin is becoming translucent.
“Why should I trust you? You’re one of them.” I take a deep, steadying breath and lift my gun level with my chest. Another shot hits my enemy’s thigh, burning a hole into his image and making Rin tremble.
She smiles, her wide brown eyes boring into my own; they look so much like Fray’s eyes, it alarms me. She holds out her hand, but it passes through my forearm like the wind. It leaves behind a strange tingling sensation that makes my arm itch.
“I’d be surprised if you did trust me – I don’t expect you to. But I am offering you freedom and answers, both of which you seem to be lacking in here. It is your choice, though. I will come for you tomorrow, but you don’t have to leave with me.”
Rin gasps and her entire body begins to dissolve. I am distantly aware of the sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard behind me, and I know that Signa must have realized what’s going on – or, at least, he must have some idea. I spoke too loudly, forgetting again that I am supposed to be alone in this circle. I have to hope that he didn’t understand what I said, but judging by how quickly the simulation is shutting down around me, he knows more than I want him to.
“Just think about it,” Rin chimes, her voice getting lighter and less distinct as her body breaks down. “Please.”
The last part of her to fade is her eyes, which are still looking up at me pleadingly. She sounds almost like she’s in pain, gasping and wheezing every time another piece of her frame is torn away, but that can’t be true. She is a Digit, and Digits can’t feel anything.
When the simulation finally disappears completely I fall to my knees, my gun still held tightly with both hands at my waist. Signa steps into the circle with me, and I pull of my headband and hand it to him silently, but he doesn’t take it.
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