Beat

by Jared Garrett

  I shrugged, my right arm giving a twinge of pain. This was going to suck bug. I backed up a little, putting about five meters between me and the tunnel mouth. I took a deep breath, grateful the Enforsers and Ranjers were far behind me. Another breath, then I sat in the dirt, reached up with my left arm and felt for a handhold. There were small gaps between the rubber slats. I needed both hands. Bug me. I sucked in a breath. No choice.

  I forced my right arm up, reached with both hands, and grabbed the next gap, jamming all of my fingers through the gap. The belt immediately started tugging me. Pain flooded my right arm, but it was manageable. My heels dragged through the dirt of the Dumps, probably leaving a trail behind me as I was carried. I looked ahead, saw the opening approaching faster than I’d expected, and jackknifed my legs as hard as I could upward, pulling hard with my arms. I only got one foot up and braced against the side wall of the belt. I pulled again, fighting gravity and agony in my arm. The opening was right there. Maybe a meter away.

  I tried again. Got it. My feet slid through, just tight enough against the conveyor belt. I braced them tighter and pulled, trying to buck the rest of my body higher. My right arm complained, then exploded with pain. My entire body shook with the strain. I couldn’t do this. I could let go, let them catch me.

  No, I couldn’t; halfway through already. Just a few more seconds. I gripped as tight as I could and felt the cross bar on the inside of the opening slide against the top back of my legs, then my backside. I pulled harder.

  Machine grease might have helped. The skin on my lower back caught on the metal bar, the pain of the pinch forcing adrenaline into my arms or something, because I got higher. I nearly screamed as the cross bar scraped along my back, dragging my shirt along with it. The moment I felt the bar brush past the back of my head I dropped, my back on fire and my arm feeling shattered again.

  I lay in the dirt under the belt for a few minutes, almost every centimeter of skin gone from my back and every nerve screaming. In a moment of clear thinking, I rolled over, probably too late, to try to keep the dirt off my flayed back. My face in the dirt, I swore, feeling my sweat turning the dirt to mud. When was this day going to end?

  Probably never. Or if I just laid there, probably sooner than I wanted it to.

  In either case, I still wasn’t done. Enough running, enough being chased. Bren’s death wasn’t an accident. Everyone had to know.

  I levered myself up on my left arm, the muscles in both arms spasming. It took me a minute or more, but I finally got to my feet, turned, and stumbled down the tunnel to the Oranje Rez. My shirt slid down my back, sending icy, jagged stabs into me. I let it drop; maybe the pain would fade while I moved. Hopefully the Enforsers and Ranjers would keep searching the Dumps for a long time. But I couldn’t count on that, so I ordered my legs to move faster. They grudgingly obeyed, and before long, I’d hit a slow jogging pace that I could keep up for a while.

  As I jogged, I used my left hand to ease my shirt up. Every time I stumbled, fresh fire broke out all over my shredded back. I swore again but kept jogging and tucked the shirt up into my armpit. Maybe Melisa would have something that I could use to bandage myself. The wound could get infected from the dirt I’d rolled in. Maybe the residual stench of the garbage belt would infect it too. Double the fun. I wished I could call her on the EarCom, but if they were being monitored, the Admins would have Enforsers waiting for me for sure.

  I could tell I was coming to the end of the tunnel because the echo of my footsteps and breathing changed. Finally, I reached the door that led to what I guessed was a maintenance shed. I stopped at the door and listened, trying to keep my breathing steady. If nothing else, with all the running I’d been doing, without the knockout to “save” me, I had certainly proved the Bug was out of the air. As if that needed any more proving. I had to be at 150 or more, maybe 160. Interesting that I couldn’t really keep track of my heart rate when it was so high.

  Examining the door, I reached for the Prime Administrator’s card. No conveyor belt to hold on to here. If I used the card, they would know where I was. And if they figured out I was in Oranje Rez, they had to know I was going to Melisa’s. The Prime Administrator had said he’d been talking to my other friends and that they had all cooperated.

  The Admins knew about Melisa. If I went through this door, I would have to get to Melisa’s fast, and get away even faster. But should I even go there? I’d be putting Melisa in danger.

  I stood there for a long couple of minutes, mulling my options.

  I had a total of one. I had to go through this door and get to Melisa, if for no other reason than to get those video clips. Between them and this vial, I might actually be able to stop what was happening.

  And then what? End the New Chapter?

  If the New Chapter went away, what would come next? It would be better. Almost anything would be better, and people would know where we went wrong, so we could learn. But mostly, people would be free to live the way they wanted—without a chemical controlling them even more than they could imagine.

  There was no choice, really. I pulled the card out, scanned it, and pulled the door open when I heard the lock release.

  I found the metal ladder within seconds of leaving the tunnel, limped my way up it, and pushed into the faint beginnings of a new day, the mountains to the east just starting to glow as dawn approached.

  The shed was at the far end of Oranje Rez; I had just jogged Oranje Rez’s entire length. I sure knew how to have a good time. Yeah. Jogging down a garbage tunnel was a beautiful way to spend a morning. As I eased out of the maintenance shed, I double-checked that nobody was near. All was quiet still, but wouldn’t be for much longer. My Papa said it was nearly 05:00. The long road that edged Oranje Rez ran left and right in front of me, multiple additional streets heading into the Rez of that road.

  I glanced toward Green Rez. What if I went that way instead? I could be home in fifteen minutes. Tell Mom and Dad about everything. Let it all go. All of the craziness of the last night and day spun through my brain. They would believe me. They would tell me it was okay. Mom would hug me and probably cry about Bren. Dad would get his serious look, like he did when he talked about his job in the Nursery. He would hug me, too, tell me I needed to take a load off.

  Something deep in me ached for that. The scene glowed in my mind for a long moment, calling to me.

  But I couldn’t. What I’d learned, what I’d done—there was no going back. And if I contacted Mom or Dad through the EarComs right now, it would for sure be monitored. I hoped they were okay.

  I looked around, reminded myself of where Melisa lived, and took off running. The Admins and Enforsers would figure it out soon. I had zero time.

  CHAPTER 24

  Melisa lived in the second house on the right, down Hotel-1. Which meant that I had to cover several blocks fast, while staying out of sight. As I ran, I hugged the houses, trying to keep to the shadows that would be moving and fading soon. I’d gone two blocks before I realized how dumb I was being. They had to know I’d just shown up in Oranje Rez. They weren’t idiots, so they would know that Melisa lived here and they would easily figure out where I was going.

  I picked up my pace and did everything I could to save time, cutting through yards and between houses as much as I could. I didn’t hear any Enforser pod sirens by the time I got near Melisa’s, but that would change fast. I plastered myself against Melisa’s neighbor’s house and peered around the corner. I scanned carefully, but couldn’t see Enforsers or Ranjers or anybody. Nothing moved.

  I darted around the corner and made for the back of Melisa’s house. I stopped and turned back to the street. I’d spotted a small pile of tiny pebbles that had been missed by the cleaning bots. I grabbed as many as I could in one swipe and ran to the backyard. Melisa didn’t have a brother or sister, so I guessed that her room would be in the same place as mine. If I was wrong . . . well, I needed to be right. This would be a lot easier if I felt like I could use the EarCom
.

  I sighed. Here goes. Holding a breath, I stepped out from the wall of the house and flung half of the pebbles at the window. They clattered a little against the glass, but it was quiet. If she was asleep, would she hear that? I counted to ten and threw the last few pebbles as hard as I could.

  That was a little louder. I stared at the glass. I saw something, some kind of movement, but I couldn’t really see—

  A light turned on in the room and Melisa came into view. Her eyes stared wide at me. She was wearing regular clothes, zip and all. She put out a hand, I figured she wanted me to wait, then disappeared. The light turned off a second later.

  I slipped back against the wall, hoping she remembered to game the sensor on her door.

  Melisa ran around the corner of her house, saw me, and came at me like a speeding pod. I almost fell when she hit me, but she caught me and hugged me tightly. I stood completely still, shocked. Then I yelped when her hands hit my back.

  “Nik!” She squeezed me tightly, her face warm against my cheek and neck. “Bug me nightly.” She stepped back when I yelped, her eyes searching mine. “You’re not dead.” Her eyes. She’d been crying.

  “N-no.”

  “I can’t believe you’re here.” She fixated on my arm. “What happened?”

  Why had she been crying? I stared at her.

  “Nik! What’s going on?”

  I couldn’t speak. I heard her voice, heard her concern.

  She didn’t want to capture me, drug me, betray me, shoot me, or anything. All of a sudden I couldn’t see very well and my throat closed up tight. My head swam; I had no idea where to start. I felt like my chest grew a few sizes smaller.

  “Nik?”

  I tried to stop it. Tears dripped down my face. Everything came rushing back, the last day, everything. I turned away, completely embarrassed. “Bren,” I tried to say. I couldn’t understand myself. Everything hurt, inside and outside. I was so tired. I couldn’t breathe.

  “I know.” I felt her move closer. “It’s okay, I know about Bren.”

  She didn’t know. She didn’t understand that I’d done it. It was my fault. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to cut off the tears. All of this was my fault. And I was so tired. My legs went wobbly and I hit the oxi-grass on my knees. “Bren. I did it.”

  “No.” I felt her drop down, too. Her hand touched my shoulder. “You didn’t do it.”

  I forced myself to take a slow breath, lifting my left arm to scrub at my face. I didn’t have time for this. I didn’t have time to be a baby. I forced the misery back down, wishing I could just be mad about things, wishing I could have done better. “It doesn’t matter.” I swallowed and looked at her. “Sorry.”

  Her hand on my shoulder moved down, brushing my shredded back. I hissed.

  “What?” She leaned to get a look, then came back fast. “Bugging drek, Nik. What happened to you?”

  I thought about the last day. A laugh pushed its way out, painful and short. “Everything.”

  “But your arm? And your back?” She examined the cast. “This is old tek. Who did this?” She looked at my back again and stood. She pulled me to my feet. “Let’s fix that.”

  “We don’t have time.”

  “We have to do something, it’s horrible.” She yanked me along, around to her door.

  “They’re coming. We don’t have time.” I pulled back. “They know I’m here.”

  She stopped and faced me. “How?”

  “They know everything, remember?” I pulled the green card out of my pocket, grabbing the vial at the same time. “I used this, and they have to know where I was going.”

  “What’s that?” She reached for the vial. I let her have it. “The knockout? Why do you have a vial of—”

  “I’ll explain later. We have to get in your IM-box.” I started for her front door.

  “The vids?”

  I stopped, totally surprised. “What?”

  “I’ve been up all night, trying to figure out what’s going on. I saw the IM from the Prime Administrator a little while ago.”

  So that was why she was wearing regular clothes already. She pulled a memory stick out of her zip pocket. “I couldn’t decide why the Prime Administrator would send me those clips, but I thought I should put them on a z-stick, just in case.”

  I grinned at her. “That’s perfect.”

  “What are they?”

  “Proof. Or part of it.” I held out my hand.

  “What? Proof?” She kept the stick, shaking the vial in her other hand. “And what’s this?”

  “More proof, kind of.” I reached for it. “Come on, I need them, and I’m out of time.”

  “You’re out of time?” She glared at me. “Spam that. Tell me what’s going on.” She put the stick in one pocket and the vial in another.

  “Melisa, this isn’t a joke. I have to get out of here.” I heard sirens and pods screaming. I had a minute. Maybe. “Come on. Everything’s a lie. The knockout, the bug, the whole bugging New Chapter.” I stepped closer to her, trying to ease my shirt higher off my back. “Give them to me.”

  She didn’t move, just stared at me. Was she going to betray me too? Despair seeped into me. “Please.”

  “I’ll carry them.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me across her back yard, glancing toward the sound of the approaching pods. “You can tell me what’s going on while we move.”

  I tore my arm out of her hand. “No way! You—this—you’re—” I shook my head. “You can’t. They’re trying to kill me. They don’t care, they don’t care about lying and saying whatever they want. They’ll kill you.” My breath caught. “Like they killed Bren.”

  She stepped close enough for me to see tears filling her eyes. “They killed Bren?” Her voice sounded like a steel cutter in the Enjineering Dome. “How? It was the Bug, wasn’t it?”

  I forced myself to keep my eyes on her. “Yeah. It was the Bug. And they killed him.” I knew it was true and felt the misery and tears I’d held back harden a little in me. “They did it. They’re trying to kill me, and they’ll try to kill you.” I held out my hand again. “Please, you can’t come. I don’t even know if I’ll make it.”

  She turned and walked away. “I’m coming.”

  I ran to catch up. “No. Please.”

  “Nik, it’s my decision. If they killed Bren, I want to know how and what we can do to get them back.”

  “But you don’t understand.”

  “So? You’ve made it this far. I’ll help you now.”

  I caught up to her just as she broke into a jog and we crossed through the yards of the next street’s houses. I couldn’t stop her. As we ran, I realized I didn’t want to.

  “So where are we going?” Melisa slowed down as her Papa sounded, warning her that her heart beat had hit 100.

  I thought fast. “We have to get that off you, they’ll track it.” I cursed Dolfo silently for stealing the nano-cutter from me. Bugging, thieving Wanderer. My heart crawled up my throat. We had to move fast, but out of sight somehow.

  Melisa turned fast, looking up at the mountains to the east and hunching behind a low tree. “Okay.” She pulled a pin out of her short, brown hair and bent it a little. Then she tugged and a tiny needle came free from the cylinder of the pin. “The sun’s coming up. We’d better hurry.”

  “What is that?”

  “My custom Papa remover. A few of the girls have them, but we keep them quiet. I invented it.” She bent to the Papa, poked at the spot near where the strap met the actual Papa, and spoke again. “I’ve only used it once, since I’m sure I’d get in huge trouble for taking the wrist-dad off.” After a few long seconds during which I heard pods land and Enforsers start shouting, a tiny rubber rod slid out of the strap and into the oxi-grass beneath her. Then the Papa hung loosely in her hand. She stood and grinned. “What should we do with it?”

  “Throw it on a house. Maybe make it harder to find.”

  “Good idea.” She stepped away a bit and leaned back,
ready to throw it.

  “Wait!”

  She spun, her eyes wide. “What?”

  I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d just been. Bug me. “Did you get the knockout last night?”

  She looked confused. “No, I used the glue. I didn’t want to sleep.”

  I thought back to what we’d been taught about the Bug and our immune system. “Did you get it any time in the last couple of weeks?”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “It just does!” The sound of the Enforsers shouting at each other grew louder.

  “No! I haven’t gotten it in months. Maybe more.” The tone of her voice made me curious.

  “Why not?”

  “Why haven’t you?”

  “Because,” I said. “Because I want to sleep when I feel like it.”

  “And you’re the only one allowed to have a brain? I have to be just like everyone else, but Nik is the only one who’s allowed to be a rebel?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She glared at me. “It was always about you, what you wanted to do and what you thought about the Bug.”

  “That’s stupid.”

  “Shut up, Nik.”

  Girls! I had never understood why Melisa and Bren had gotten along so well. Talking to girls was impossible.

  “Why does it matter if I had the knockout?” Melisa stepped closer to me.

  “It just does.” I hoped she’d believe me, hoped I was right. “That’s what we need proof of.”

  Melisa stood completely still. She cocked her head, chewing on her lower lip. “You said we have to get proof about the knockout? And I can’t have had it recently?”

  I nodded, grabbing at her with my good hand. “Come on.”

  She pulled away. I felt like her eyes were digging into my brain. She held up the Papa. “The Bug.”

  How? Somehow she understood. “Yes.” She’d figured it out. I had to be right.