by Cody Wagner
I stared at her but couldn’t respond.
She smirked again. “Well?”
I could feel myself drawing a blank. Honestly, any response would have sufficed. But I was terrified of going into mouth diarrhea mode and kept quiet.
The woman tapped her pen on her desk, and my leg started bouncing. Desperate, I cleared my mind, and for some reason, the Records Room popped into my head.
Straightening my shoulders, I said, “Her family.”
“Excuse me?”
“From what I heard, she had major family problems.”
“For example?”
“I don’t know her well enough to give specifics. But I don’t think she really wanted healing.” Another thought hit, and I said, “She left last year, too.”
The woman sat back in surprise. “Why?”
“Same reason. One minute, she wanted to be here. The next, she didn’t. She has issues. When she wanted help, she did great. Unfortunately, when she didn’t want healing, she tried to take us down with her. Last year, too.”
She wrote something down and stared at me. “Then why did she retract her statement?”
I gestured across the hall at a different girl who had joined the male Zealot. “Look at us.” Wilkes looked from the girl to me, once again noticing we sat in the same, formal position. “The school controls us,” I said. “And they get what they want.”
“So the school forced her to lie in that retraction?”
“No. They had her tell the truth.”
She didn’t respond to that, so I said, “I admit, I didn’t know if I wanted healing when I came here. Now I do. Sanctuary is very effective. They get what they want.”
I wasn’t painting Sanctuary in a very good light, but I figured Wilkes would appreciate the idea of our being domineered. Just like I thought, she nodded as if satisfied with my answers and bent over to scribble on her paper. Then, setting down her pen, she said, “You may return to class.”
“Thank you.”
I stood up, marched back into Chemistry, and sat upright, just like the rest of the class. A line of sweat ran down my back, but the interview had gone well. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, what could they have possibly asked that we weren’t ready for? Then I thought about the Siren and bit my lip. Something else had to be coming.
* * * * *
By the time lunch rolled around, I felt like I’d aged ten years. Between looking for purple glows everywhere and preparing for more Zealots, I was exhausted. I even worried my hair had turned gray as I sat down next to Roze with my lunch tray.
She clasped her hands on the table in between each bite. So did every student. I thought it was a bit over-the-top, until I noticed four Zealots walking around the cafeteria, clipboards in their arms. I quickly folded my hands and joined the robotic students. Cassie arrived a few minutes later and didn’t miss a beat.
After a few bites, she whispered, “Your mom has been calling my phone.”
I jerked back and dropped some fries. “Dammit.”
I was hoping it would take longer for my parents to find Tracey’s video. But Dad worked in technology. Besides, they’d probably been searching for dirt on Sanctuary ever since Senator Joseph announced the inspections. Either way, this was the last thing I needed.
“You should call her,” Roze said.
I sighed, threw a fry into my mouth, and clasped my hands. “Will the Zealots allow it?”
“It’s been happening all day.” Cassie handed me her phone. “I think they like watching us squirm to our parents.”
Not the answer I was hoping for. I didn’t want to call them now. Then I imagined Mom getting worked into a panic and driving to Sanctuary. Correction: I imagined her getting worked into a panic and sending Dad to Sanctuary. Sadly, that could really happen, so I decided to go ahead and deal with the situation now.
Grimacing, I stood, dialed the number into Cassie’s phone, and held it to my ear as I tried to leave the cafeteria. A Zealot stood in front of me, guarding the door. I pointed at my phone and said, “Parents.”
The Zealot, just as condescending as the others, said, “You can talk right here.”
He probably loved bossing me around, but I realized this was an opportunity. Mr. Idiot here could listen to my conversation with Mom and hear more evidence indicating Sanctuary was legit.
Mom answered on the first ring. “Blaize?”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Oh, thank god. What is going on? Do we need to come retrieve you?”
I almost laughed at the terror in her voice. “No. Things are great here.”
She paused before saying, “Really?”
“Yeah, the school is being inspected right now, and it’s going awesome. I mean, I knew it would. We have nothing to hide.” OK, I may have laid it on a little thick there, but I didn’t care. The Zealot watching me grunted. I think it was a good grunt.
“Then why did that girl say those things?” she asked.
I said, “Mom,” as if she were missing something really obvious. “Remember the bullies I told you about last year? Well, she’s one of them. She’s been making trouble ever since.”
“Then why didn’t they expel her?”
“They did last year.” That was kind of a lie, but it would fact check perfectly. “Apparently, they gave her another chance. She’s gone for good now.”
She paused then said, “Oh.” She’d probably planned to say more, but I could tell I was alleviating her worries. Go me.
“Really, Mom. We’re going to pass with flying colors, and next week this will all blow over.”
My voice was so chipper, she couldn’t help but laugh. “OK,” she said. “I’ll let you get back to healing, then. Tell those wonderful Zealots hello for us.”
Grinning, I looked at Mr. Idiot and said, “My mom says hi!”
He grunted again.
I smiled and said, into the phone, “He said he hopes you’re having a super splendid day.”
“Well, isn’t that nice?”
“Bye, Mom.”
“We love you.”
Like always, I paused before saying, “I love you, too.”
I stared at the phone as I walked back to the table. Admittedly, it was oddly satisfying messing with Mom. And the Zealot. But saying we were going to “pass with flying colors” made me nauseous. The Siren was going to strike. And then my cheesy grins and happy voice would be gone.
I squeezed the phone, determined to keep up my Seeker efforts.
Once I sat back down, I desperately wanted to ask Cassie if she’d been questioned, but we kept our conversation focused on healing and school. It sucked. With everything I was doing, I needed to decompress. If only for a few minutes.
With that thought in mind, I rushed through lunch then said I’d left my gym bag in my room. It was true, but the statement was a good excuse to return to my room for a breather, before paroling the campus some more.
I could practically feel the weight lift from my lungs as I entered my dorm hallway and started walking to my room. Then, I saw two Zealots heading into the room three doors down from mine.
They were conducting searches. Right in the middle of the day.
I wanted some alone time so bad, it felt like ropes were dragging my chest to the floor. Still, I feigned nonchalance as I walked to my room for my gym bag.
The door was unlocked.
Already knowing what I’d find, I walked in. While the room wasn’t a mess, it was clear someone had gone through everything. I think the Zealots had left signs of their search on purpose. They were letting us know we had zero privacy while they were around. Cursing under my breath, I grabbed my bag and fled without even sitting down. The room felt violated, and I suddenly wanted fresh air, even if it was freezing.
Outside, I made laps around the entire school, looking for purple glows. Nothing was out of the ordinary, but after my chat with Mom, I couldn’t stop searching. I was out so long and remained so focused, I barely regis
tered the bell and had to sprint to the gym.
“Hurry it up, Trales,” Adkins said, standing out front. A couple girls were behind me, but instead of telling them to speed up, Adkins stopped them. As I entered the gym, I turned back and noticed Adkins looking into their eyes. See, people under the Siren’s control had dilated pupils. That was the only sign the school had without me. And it was a feeble one. I felt bad for Adkins, but at least I was doing my part this time. The thought cheered me up as I jogged to the dressing room and changed into my gym clothes.
Throughout the rest of the day, I continued running around and scanning students. But my work was pointless: no one was under control. That should have been a good thing, but I figured the longer it took for the Siren to strike, the more catastrophic her plan was likely to be. With that thought in mind, I ran myself ragged until curfew, when my Spanish Teacher, Mr. Lopez, saw me roaming around and told me to go to my room.
Cassie was in bed on her phone when I entered. I could tell she’d been crying again.
When she looked at me, I mouthed, “Parents?”
She nodded and turned back to her phone.
I was about to shrug it off as I climbed into my bed, when the thought of Mrs. Cooke being the Siren hit me again. While I still didn’t really believe it, the idea sent a little jolt though my back. Turning onto my side to face her, I tried to listen in on their conversation, but Cassie’s little voice didn’t carry across the room. In fact, her mumbling had the effect of a lullaby, and before I knew it, I passed out.
* * * * *
My alarm went off early the following morning. Cassie was already up, and I figured she was going to get breakfast.
“Get any sleep?” I asked, yawning.
“A little. You?”
“Actually, yes. I was exhausted.”
“Why are you up so early?” she asked. “Don’t you have like five more snoozes?”
I smiled. She was right, but I had a campus to patrol, so I forced a casual shrug and said, “I wanted to take a walk to clear my head. Before hell starts in our classes again.”
Cassie studied me in the mirror for a second. But she didn’t say anything, so I dressed, grabbed my stuff, and headed outside.
The air was still cold, so I ducked my head, went straight to the cafeteria, and peeked inside. No purple glows.
Next, I stood outside the cafeteria, rubbing my hands together and watching groups of people. None of them glowed, either.
When the crowd thinned, I walked back and forth between the dorms and Classroom Center. Still no glows.
Finally, the first bell rang, and I parked myself in front of the Classroom Center. Like yesterday, I watched hundreds of people. Again, nothing. Just before the last bell rang, I gave up and took off to Geometry.
Two different Zealots—another man and woman—sat in chairs near the front as I walked in.
Roze gave me a Where were you? look but I ignored it, sat down, took out my stuff, and clasped my hands in front of me.
A few seconds later, Ms. Meeks walked in. Like a true pro, she didn’t falter when she saw the Zealots. Instead, she smiled at them, set her bag down, and began the lesson. I pulled out my notes, stared at the whiteboard, and waited for one of the Zealots to call someone’s name.
Just then, the door opened, and a student—Janine was her name—walked in.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said. “My mom called.”
“Take your seat, please,” Ms. Meeks said.
I let out a tiny whimper: Janine was glowing purple.
My head started spinning. So this was it. The male Zealot would call Janine for questioning, and under the Siren’s orders, she’d reveal the truth about Sanctuary. It was that simple and would likely start a domino effect. The end.
I felt an elbow and peeked at Roze.
“Are you OK?” she hissed.
I nodded but didn’t take my eyes off Janine. How did the Siren get to her? Could she control someone remotely, or was she actually here?
The thought of the Siren at Sanctuary made me start shivering. Roze elbowed me again. I closed my eyes and told myself, You knew this was coming, so deal with it.
“Roze Merrill.”
I jumped in my seat.
“Yes, sir,” Roze said to the male Zealot. Her voice was so calm, I knew she’d been questioned yesterday.
Right after Roze left the room, the female Zealot called out, “Blake Shaver.”
I watched Blake step outside, then I turned to Roze’s empty desk. I imagined her parents showing up—with the neighbor boy they wanted her to marry—and taking her away.
I shook my head and stared at the wall. Without my help, Roze wouldn’t just be leaving an empty desk; she’d be leaving my life. Maybe forever.
That gave me the kick I needed. Frantically, my brain raced for an idea. My first instinct was to try to get Janine out of class. But I had a feeling she’d resist. If the Siren told her to come here and talk to the Zealots, she’d refuse anyone who tried to stop her. I knew that from experience: when Tracey attacked Jimmy last year, she went crazy after I’d pulled her off him.
Roze walked back in, head held high, and took her seat.
The mail Zealot scanned his list and called out, “April Gibson.”
“Yes, sir.” April stood up and followed him out.
First Roze Merrill, then April Gibson. The Zealots weren’t going in alphabetical order, so I had no idea when Janine would be up. How much time did I have?
“Blaize Trales.” It was the female Zealot.
I didn’t move.
“Blaize,” Roze hissed.
In my head, I screamed, Not now! But my legs managed to stand me up and guide me out of the room.
“You may sit, Trales.” The woman gestured at a desk in the hall.
I nodded at her but remained standing, my mind racing. What was I going to do? I hadn’t come up with a plan for Janine. Being questioned was an afterthought. Hell, I realized I’d even brought my geometry notes and a pencil out with me.
“Are you so intent on blazing trails that you can’t even sit down?” The woman laughed at herself.
I managed to smile at her stupid joke. I had to get through this quickly. The sooner I finished, the sooner I could go back in, study Janine, and formulate a plan.
After peaking at a clock hanging on the wall, I sat and tried to focus on the interview. Two questions in, though, I heard a giant belch and couldn’t help but look across the hall. The man questioning April Thompson set a soda can on his desk. He looked very pleased with himself.
I shifted my attention back to the female Zealot and managed to answer a couple more questions. Then I saw April Thompson stand up. The male Zealot questioning her took a huge gulp of soda, burped one last time, and ceremoniously set the can on his desk, like he was bragging that the Zealots could have treats, and we couldn’t. Then he led April back to class.
I looked at the female Zealot and gave out another generic answer. She nodded, so it must have been relevant. Footsteps sounded behind me, and I knew the male Zealot had returned with the next student. I peeked out the corner of my eye.
It was Janine.
“Oh my god,” I said, without thinking. My hands got so clammy, I had to wipe them on my jeans.
“What?” the female Zealot said.
“I just remembered I forgot my homework.” My heart hammered against my ribs.
She shook her head. “Your little attempt to end our interview won’t work.”
To drag the questioning out, the female Zealot started talking slowly, like I was a four-year-old being lectured. She grinned the entire time, clearly enjoying exercising her control over me. I couldn’t have cared less. I peeked over and saw Janine smiling serenely, like she didn’t have a care in the world.
I ran a nervous hand threw my hair. In a few minutes, it would all be over. Janine would rat Sanctuary out. That would start the domino effect of terror. The Siren probably had other victims waiting to step forward afte
r Janine.
That couldn’t happen, and my brain screamed, Do something! NOW! NOW! NOW!
Before I could stop myself, I threw my pencil on the floor. It skittered across the hall and stopped next to the male Zealot.
“Sorry,” I said. Before either Zealot could stop me, I launched myself over to his desk and bent down. On my way up, I hit his soda with my arm. It fell onto his lap, spilling down his legs.
The Zealot jumped up. “What the hell!” His pants were drenched.
“I’m so sorry!” I said. “It was an accident.”
He glared at me for a good minute. I stayed there, on my knees, like I was bowing down to him. It must have worked because he didn’t yell at me. Instead, he turned and started stomping down the hall.
“Where are you going?” the female Zealot said.
“Yeah!” shouted Janine. “I have to talk to you. Now!” She stood and took a few steps toward him.
Wrong move.
The male Zealot turned and glared at her. “We’re in charge here, not you. Don’t tell me when you get to talk.” Turning to the female Zealot, he said, “I’m going to change. I’ll be back for the next session.”
I almost collapsed in relief. For the first time ever, I was glad Zimmerman’s Zealots thought we were second-hand scum.
Janine stared at the male Zealot, wide-eyed, and after debating with herself a few seconds, ran after him, yelling, “Wait!”
“No, ma’am.” The female Zealot grabbed Janine’s arm.
Janine stopped. “But—”
“But nothing.” The female Zealot smirked. “We’re calling the shots here. Get back to class. You’ll be interviewed again later.”
Janine froze. Her eyes looked frantic. She must have had no idea what to do. The Siren would have wanted to her obey the Zealots. But that went against the Siren’s orders to tell the truth. Janine was stuck.
“Move it!” The female Zealot’s command shook Janine out of her stupor. She whispered, “OK,” and inched back to class.
Part of me wanted to pass out. But I’d only bought an hour or two. For all I knew, Janine would be interviewed again in the next class.
After looking at the clock, I sat to finish the interview. However, the female Zealot was so caught off-guard from the soda incident, she told me to get back to class. Grateful, I went back to my chair and practically collapsed.