“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Her face is pale, eyes wide and lost. I crouch in front of her, reaching slowly to touch her knee. A few women have wandered up the path. Not wanting them to hear us, I pull Gamma to her feet and drag her away from the stoop. She lets me move her without protest. Her shoulders slump as we wait for the women to pass. One dumps a cigarette butt in the dirt before she goes inside the housing block.
I grasp Gamma’s wrists. Her skin is icy. “What’s going on?”
“They weren’t just rumors,” she says. “Demen are real. Real people. And my mom is a murderer.” Her voice cracks on the last word.
“Tell me what this is about.” My fingers dig into her forearms as I will her to focus.
“It’s true. Delta and Epsilon have a son.” She pulls free and wipes her cheeks roughly with her knuckles. “Had a son.”
“Gamma, please.” My heart thuds. I drag her farther from the building so we’re out of earshot of anyone who might pass by on their way home.
“Delta and Epsilon’s son,” she says. “He came for them. Did you see him? My mother made me stay in her office, but I heard everything. She left her comm channel open. I heard everything. He was real. He was a real person. Like us.”
She drops to her knees and I sink down beside her.
“What happened?” I ask.
“He’s dead,” she says. “My mother killed him.”
A chill descends over me. No. Ghent’s not dead. He escaped the palisade. I reach for Gamma but she shoves me away and rises to her feet, turning away from the housing block. I follow, catching up easily, and I grab her elbow. She rounds on me. “He was real. And Mom’s a killer, a hired hand for the Protectors.”
“Please. Tell me.”
“Delta and Epsilon’s son. He came to the Clinic. To turn himself in.” Her eyes glisten in the moonlight.
“No, he got away.” It’s a risk to reveal I know even this much, but she doesn’t seem to notice my slip.
“Yes, he got away.” She pauses. “The first time.”
What?
“The first time he went to the Clinic he planted some kind of listening device in his mothers’ room. The Med-Techs found a transmitter on the floor beside the bed.”
So that’s what happened to the transmitter. I dropped it. In his mothers’ room.
“Why would he do that?” I ask, knowing that he didn’t do it at all. It was me.
“To monitor his birth mother’s condition,” Gamma says. An image of Epsie plays in my mind. So like her son. Tousled brown hair and deathly pale skin. “He knew what was wrong with her, that there was only one chance to make her better. It was actually quite brave. That’s when I realized. He was a person. Just like us. He did exactly what I’d do to save someone I love.”
She grabs my hand as if it’s a lifeline.
“None of this makes sense,” I say.
“No, it doesn’t,” Gamma said. “If he could get into their room, why didn’t he talk to them? Why only plant a transmitter? The Protectors think he might have done it remotely, like through a vent or something.” Gamma’s missed my point. And anyway I know exactly how the transmitter got there. “He was listening in, you see. He heard my mom talking with his mom, trying to convince her that the only chance to save her partner was a kidney transplant from a blood relative.”
“And Delta suggested they find her son?” I ask, horrified at the betrayal.
“No. She kept her mouth shut even after Mom told her that her partner could die. She wouldn’t even admit that the child existed.”
“Then how did he…” My words catch in my throat as I realize exactly what must have happened. Ghent overheard the conversation and decided to turn himself in, to sacrifice himself to save Epsie. I think back to how he was at the reflection pool. When he said goodbye he knew he wasn’t escaping the palisade. He was going to sacrifice himself to the Protectors. He wouldn’t let me go with him to the gate because he wasn’t going there himself.
“What happened after that?” I say.
“Not long after their conversation, the deman showed up at the Clinic. Snuck in the back way as if he didn’t want to cause a panic.”
He didn’t.
“That’s when Mom locked me away in her office,” Gamma continues, puffing a lock of hair from her mouth. “She had to go and perform the transplant.” Gamma’s voice hitches. “Then she killed him. By lethal injection. I heard one of those Protectors authorize it.”
I barely make out her last words. I’m already running. As far and as fast as my legs will carry me.
Chapter 18
I tear down the path to the open field, stumbling over loose gravel. Gamma doesn’t follow. I run until I can’t run anymore, my breath catching in ragged gasps, hair streaming in all directions.
He’s not dead.
He can’t be.
My feet instinctively follow his directions to the wall, the gate Delta told him about. When I see it, a scream rips through my lungs. The gate is here. Exactly where it’s supposed to be. It hasn’t been touched. Not in eons by the looks of it. It’s covered with brambles. No one has passed through here in a long time. Gamma was right. Ghent didn’t come here. He went to the Clinic.
The back of my throat is raw. The massive stone wall looms over me, at least twenty feet high, smaller rocks piled on larger boulders. There are said to be huge iron spikes on the other side to protect us from the demen. It’s the demen who need protection from us.
I pummel the wall until my hands are bruised and bloody. Naturally, the stone doesn’t yield. I press my whole body into it and sink to the ground, clawing at the rock, seeding it with my blood. In this moment, I know I need to leave. I have to get outside the palisade.
But there’s something else I need to do first.
Blood trickles between my fingers as I walk in the direction of the Clinic. Its gate is open as always. All those in need are welcome here. The entrance is illuminated by solar panels. I approach with determined steps down the cobblestone path, shoving the glass doors open and striding into the waiting area. There’s a solitary Aide at the desk: a mousy woman, pale and tired-looking. I must seem horrific to her with my mutant eyes in plain sight, ripped clothes and bloodied hands. I don’t care.
“Do you have an appointment?”
I’m almost impressed that she manages to retain her professional façade. I ignore her and push through the inner doors.
“Wait! You can’t go in there.”
The lights in the corridor lead me to the stairwell. I climb to the second floor. To intensive care. Room two-one-three. No guard today.
Epsie’s bed is empty, the machines unplugged, wires and tubes draped over the bedhead like coiled snakes. Delta’s chair has been placed against the far wall. But the room isn’t empty. A black clad figure stands by the window. Her head is bent over a small metal object that she holds between her thumb and forefinger.
Ghent’s transmitter.
She glances up. “Daughter Wye, I wondered when you’d be making an appearance.” Her features are arranged in the same sneer I remember from our last encounter. Then it sent chills through me. Now, I have to force myself to hold still, to keep my hands by my sides.
“Interesting technology,” she remarks. “Did you help him make it?”
This is why he’s gone. Because I was stupid enough to drop the transmitter. That’s why he heard what Ma Temple said to Delta, why he’s dead. My clumsiness sealed his fate. I wish I could re-do this day. I should be punished for my carelessness. I held Ghent’s life in my hands, and I threw it away. The best way to punish myself is obvious.
I go straight for the commander, grasping for the transmitter and clawing at her face. She’s taller and stronger than me, but she doesn’t expect it. I manage to drive her to the window and hold her there, fingers wrapped around her throat before she gets her bearing and shoves me to the ground. The transmitter clatters to the floor. I reach for it, but her boot crashes down on my
hand. I whimper. She grinds her heel into my hand. More pain spikes through my fingers, but I don’t cry out. I deserve this. She lifts her foot and I think she’s going to kick me, but instead she nudges me aside with her toe as she bends to collect the transmitter. I struggle to my knees, clutching my hand to my chest.
“Now, Daughter Wye. There’s no need for this.” I’m gratified that her voice is a little shaky. Her hair is mussed, and she wipes her cheek, gaping at the blood my fingernails have drawn. I try to get my feet beneath me, but she strides over and presses me back down. “You’re fine right there,” she says. I’m waiting for her to call for back up, but she doesn’t. Instead, she collects the chair and places it in front of me. When she sits, her breath is already under control, even though I’m still winded. She runs her thumb over the transmitter before slipping it into her pocket.
“Why?” The syllable escapes on a ragged breath. I bite down on my lip to stop it from quivering.
The commander seems to be talking to herself when she says, “Neither of us got what we wanted.”
I don’t understand why she’s not more triumphant. She’s won. The deman is gone.
“You killed him.” The words take some effort. “He was only trying to help his mother. And you killed him.”
The corner of her mouth turns down. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You of all people.” She turns to the window, apparently losing interest in me.
I rise to my feet. She doesn’t stop me this time. Even though she’s facing me again now, it’s as if she doesn’t see me as she spits on her palm to clean the blood from her hands.
“Where are they?” I ask, pointing to the empty bed.
I don’t expect an answer so I’m surprised when I get one. “In recovery,” she says. “His birth mother survived the surgery.”
I lunge for the door, hoping to remember the location of the recovery room. I think it’s on the first floor. The commander’s voice freezes me. “At least you won’t be the one having his babies. Your bloodline is sullied enough.”
“I never wanted his babies. I only wanted him to be safe. As far away from us as he could get.”
Now I know the truth. She’s the real monster here. She could have stood by my mother, but she chose to reject her. She could have been loved, but she chose hatred. I hope it kills her slowly from the inside. Looking at her now, I think it might. I shut the door behind me and don’t look back.
Chapter 19
No one approaches me as I make my way to the recovery room. I suppose I look like a patient with my messed-up hands. I keep moving to avoid unwanted attention. Through the glass wall of the recovery room, I can see several beds lined up in a row. Only one of them is occupied.
Epsie.
She’s unconscious, but she has more color than she did earlier. Delta sits beside her, brushing the hair back from her forehead and murmuring in her ear. A Protector is stationed on the other side of the bed engrossed in something on her datapad. I want to go inside, to talk to Delta. I need to know Epsie will live, that Ghent didn’t sacrifice himself for nothing. But what can I say to them? If it weren’t for me, their son would be alive. Far away from here.
And Epsie would be dead, I remind myself.
Delta glances at the Protector and mutters something. The guard nods, turning her attention back to the datapad. Delta rises and brushes off her clothing. Collecting an empty glass from the cabinet beside the bed, she makes for the door. She looks terrible, pale skin and sunken cheeks. This is all my fault.
When she sees me, she freezes in place, eyes fixing on mine through the glass.
She approaches from the other side of the partition. I panic. This was a stupid idea. I’m the reason her son is dead. I bolt down the hallway Gamma led me through earlier, past the closet where I tossed my cleaning bucket, all the way to the exit. Slamming the door behind me.
Again I’m running. Just like before. No clear destination. Only escape, pure and simple. Escape from myself. Eventually, my feet take me to the reflection pool. Where Ghent said goodbye. The water reflects the now-starry sky. An owl hoots in the distance. It’s eerily peaceful. I drop to my knees and try to call to mind every detail of Ghent’s face. The color of his eyes, the asymmetric tilt of his lips. Someone should remember. Someone other than his family. He existed. He was a person and he was here. Even though he wasn’t meant to be.
A small metallic object glints under the moonlight, in the grass. I reach for it. It’s smooth and cool, and familiar: the receiver for Ghent’s transmitter. He must have left it here. After he heard what Ma Temple said to Delta. I can visualize him sitting where I am now, turning her words over in his mind. Making his decision. Did he think I’d try to stop him if he told me the truth? Or was he afraid I wouldn’t try? I hold the device against my cheek, letting a single tear wash over it.
Twigs rustle behind me and a dark figure emerges from the trees. Did someone follow me from the Clinic? I scan the woman from the ground up. She’s tall. Wearing dark trousers and a long-sleeved shirt, a cloak draped over her arm. Her dark hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail.
“Omega?” She takes a step closer.
I blink in disbelief.
“Mom?”
She runs over and gathers me in her arms. How is she here? She holds me tight, smoothing my hair. Her heart thumps loud and true beneath my ear.
“It’s going to be alright,” she says. She smells of woodlands and fresh air. Her long hair is swept back from her face. She feels like home.
“What are you doing here?”
I allow her to guide me to a fallen log where she pulls me down beside her and loops her cloak over my shoulders. I slip Ghent’s transmitter into my pocket.
“I’m so sorry, honey. I should have been here. I was worried something like this might happen, but there were things I needed to do.”
I fall into her, allowing her to cradle my head against her shoulder.
“Do you want to tell me about what’s happened?” She plucks at a strand of hair plastered to my tear-stained cheek.
How can I tell her any of this? Now that I know what that deman did to her all those hundreds of weeks ago. She couldn’t possibly understand about Ghent.
“Mom, I know about what happened to you. Before I was born.”
The hand she had pressed against my cheek tenses. “Ma Temple told you.” It’s a statement, not a question. She drops her elbows to her knees and looks off into the distance. “I’m sorry I wasn’t the one to explain. I understand if you’re angry. I shouldn’t have kept it from you.”
I notice her communicator is missing from her wrist.
“Honey, there’s a lot I have to tell you. But we need to wait a few moments. We’re expecting company. She shouldn’t be long.”
“Who?”
Mom begins to rearrange my hair around my shoulders, straightening out some of the tangles.
“A new ally, I hope,” she says. “Before we get into all that, are you really okay?”
“Did Omicron call you back? What did she tell you?”
“I know you fell into something that should never have been your burden to carry. Please talk to me, honey.”
I’m actually surprised at how easy it is once I start talking. The words spill out. She doesn’t interrupt. Her expression darkens when I tell her about my encounter with Commander Theta. I spare her some of the details. They loved each other once. When I’m done, Mom rests her hands on either side of my face. Her skin smells of the woods and the fields. Her cloak slips to the ground, but neither of us moves to retrieve it. Her emerald eyes glint in the moonlight. The color that matches exactly one of mine.
She stares up at the sky for a few moments before she says, “I suppose I should fill you in on a few things while we’re waiting. You need to know what really happened the first time I went outside the palisade, the whole story.”
“The first time?” I say.
“Ma Temple told you about how the Protectors found me, I su
ppose? With the emergency beacon?”
I nod, but I don’t understand what this has to do with anything.
“The thing is, I never activated that beacon. I didn’t even bring it with me when I left the palisade. I went out exploring without thinking it through. I had to know what was out there. I couldn’t bear for Theta and me to start a family of our own, without knowing. Our society won’t last like this forever. I couldn’t bring a child into the palisade without knowing there would be a bigger world for her to live in, that she wouldn’t die out with everyone else imprisoned inside these stone walls. I needed to know there would be more for her. For you.”
Her eyes narrow. “When that man took me…” she starts.
“You don’t have to tell me.” I reach for her hand, but she waves me away and keeps talking as if she won’t get through it if she lets herself stop.
“He held me in a cave for a while, but eventually, he left me there alone.” It’s hard to believe she’s talking about my biological father. “I must have passed out. The next thing I remember, the sun was setting and I was being carried to a clearing about fifty yards from the palisade. There were voices. Arguing around me. Concerned they were getting too close, that it wouldn’t be safe, but the man carrying me—”
“Another man?”
“Yes, a gentle soul. Your Ghent sounds a little like him.” My Ghent. A dark hollow in my chest cracks open as my mother continues. “He settled me on the ground and tucked my cloak around me. He pressed an emergency beacon into my arms and activated it. I don’t know where he got it. He waited with me until he was sure the signal had been received, and then he disappeared. That’s how I know we’re not alone. There are people out there. Men and woman. Some of the voices I heard out there were women. I’m sure of it.”
“Why you didn’t tell me any of this before?”
“I didn’t think you were ready.”
“You said you’ve been outside more than once. When? Where we you really this week?”
A twig crackles behind us and I glance around as my mother whispers, “We can’t talk about that yet, but I’ll explain soon. I promise.”
Inside the Palisade Page 12