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by Barb Han


  The door opens, and we take a step inside. The lights come on, and I see walls are lined with cages made of glass and metal—metal walls so the ‘specimens’ can’t see each other.

  In the middle of the room are two big tables covered with microscopes, test tubes, and goggles. There’s a sink with an eye wash station in the corner of the room. Lab coats hang on rungs.

  “Let’s go,” McAvoy says. I’ve lost my mind because I hear that emotion in his voice from earlier. It can’t be regret. He hates me.

  My feet feel rooted to the floor. I don’t know if I can will myself to walk when I spot the first person on my right. Lillian Thompson, the swimmer, the girl who supposedly washed out. She looks out of it, drugged.

  And then it dawns on me. What if no one ever washes out?

  I’m working the cuffs around my wrists, wiggling my hands, and trying to make them small enough to slip out. No use.

  I look at the faces as we walk past. It’s like we’re suddenly moving in slow motion and the world has tipped on its axis. I’m searching frantically for anyone else from the program.

  And then I hear it. The banging noise against glass. My name. Reality slams into me. They have Caius.

  I try to break loose from the hands gripping my arms. I scream. I try to sit down, do anything to get to him. He’s banging so hard on the glass that I think it might break. He’s frantic. And then I see why.

  In the cell next to his is a hospital bed. And someone’s lying on it with tubes coming out of their arms. Machines are beeping. Experiments?

  We Sponsored are expendable. But they’ll never pull off treating a Legacy like that.

  It occurs to me that they might kill him outright and tell his family that it was an accident, that he was sneaking in to see me and was electrocuted. I think about Eleanor Chaffee and the similarities between her and Caius’s mother. Would she even care what had happened to her son?

  My heart thumps wildly against my rib cage as they shove me into one of those cells. They don’t bother to remove my arm restraints.

  Everything moves in slow motion, and it’s like I’m walking through two feet of syrup. My vision blurs and the next thing I know, I’m out.

  I have no idea how long I’ve been asleep when my eyes finally blink open. There are no windows inside the building. The bed is hard, and my head hurts as I push up.

  My arms give, and I don’t make it to sitting position. I squint as I turn my head to get a better look at what’s going on. Pain shoots through every muscle as I move.

  Through my glass cell door, I spot several workers in white lab coats. One turns enough for me to see his profile. He’s short with wild gray hair and a long nose. I recognize him right away, Dr. Mangrove.

  Of course he’s here. He must know about the program, since he’s my doctor. For all I know, he might be in charge. The metal walls block part of my view so I can’t see the whole room without getting up, which is impossible at the moment. My body feels like someone drained out my life force and left a shell of skin and bones here. My mouth feels like I ate stick glue for how dry it is. My tongue feels thick.

  I scan my arms and immediately see an IV. I clasp my right hand around it, close my eyes and jerk it out. An alarm sounds. White coats scurry toward my cell. I try to push up again, but my arms are still like rubber bands.

  “There, there, Ms. Aldridge. It won’t do for you to get up.” Dr. Mangrove’s gray eyes are beady.

  I hear Snyder’s voice; fingernails on a chalkboard. My eyelids weigh like three tons. I fight to stay awake, to stay conscious so I can hear the rest of their plans. None of my body parts are missing. So far, I haven’t been given a performance enhancing drug. If I’m an experiment, I have no idea what I’m supposed to test or why.

  Everything goes dark again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  My eyes open, and I gasp. I’m breathing hard like I swam the length of the pool without coming up for air. Everything is still blurry as I try to get my bearings. I’m in a cell.

  Suddenly, I remember everything and like a rogue wave rolling onto the beach my memories crash into me. I try to push up but can’t. There are bright lights and people on the other side of the glass, but my vision is too blurry to figure out who’s there. I blink a few times, but my eyes are dry and itchy.

  All I can see clearly is a few feet around me. I scan my body for injuries and my gaze lands hard on the IV. I immediately make a move to yank it out but then remember what happened the last time I did that.

  I hear voices. At first, they’re a low murmur but when I strain to listen, I can make out who’s talking.

  “The body count is racking up.” Snyder’s voice rakes over me.

  “What should we do with her?” I identify this speaker as Eleanor.

  “We’ll net more money if she’s alive.” That voice belongs to Spencer. “I need this. DG is dead without this.”

  “What about her family. They won’t give up, Spencer,” Eleanor says.

  “Loose ends. I don’t like it,” Snyder says matter-of-factly. Like I’m some lab rat.

  “So we keep her alive,” Eleanor states.

  “For now,” Spencer agrees.

  “We can’t risk this news getting out, or it’ll ruin the program.”

  “I don’t have to remind you how much we’ve invested in her and in you.” There’s no sickening sweetness to Eleanor Chaffee’s voice now. She’s all business, determined-sounding and annoyed.

  “This program will succeed. Your company will be the pioneer,” Snyder reassures her. “You’ll make your investment back in spades.”

  “I had better,” Spencer says. The threat hangs in the air, and no one speaks right away.

  “What about the Bilker family? What are you planning to do about them?” There’s a hint of tension and desperation in Eleanor Chaffee’s voice.

  What does Rhys’s family have to do with anything? He hates me, sure, but his family…? We’ve never even met.

  “Don’t worry about the—”

  “That’s what you told us about Victoria when we first came to you with our concerns about her stubborn streak. And now look where we are. Without her family we have no leverage over her.” Spencer is starting to look like more than a blur. I can make out his form.

  “This is a blip. It means nothing. Mangrove was successful. We carry on as normal. All this does is speed up our timeline.” There’s a sharpness to Snyder.

  “We’ll keep all this quiet and go to market early. See if we can get any bids. Judge the climate. All we need is for her to offer a reassurance to people. We need her to make a public appearance,” Spencer says.

  A half laugh, half snort rips from Eleanor’s throat. “She isn’t going to read from some script, not with that stubborn streak. And where does that leave us?”

  “There are ways to force her,” Snyder interjects. “And then she’ll meet with an accident.”

  “People will wonder why. They’ll want to know what the rush is. We weren’t planning to get rid of her until after senior year, after we’ve gone out with the product.” There’s a desperate and lonely quality to Eleanor’s voice now. “You know how important this is to us, to our family.”

  I fight against a yawn and the tug toward sleep. I’m so tired. Thinking makes my brain cramp. My stomach cramps, too.

  The voices sound so far away now. Words wind through my thoughts. Investment. Attributes. Selling well.

  …

  I blink my eyes open. I have no idea how many days I’ve been in this cell. I’m aware that I’ve been medicated. If feels like I’ve been dreaming, like nothing’s real anymore. I’m able to sit up but my reflexes are slow. My stomach is bloated and crampy.

  My cell door opens, and Snyder steps inside. “We’re finally awake.”

  I want to point out that I’m awake, not us but I don�
�t want to push my luck and end up staring at the backs of my eyelids again. “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Not long.”

  “A day? Two?” I press.

  She smiles at me. It’s contrite and makes me ball my fist on my right hand. If she gets close enough, I might be able to hit her. The thought shocks me. I never thought I’d want to hurt another person. But then I’ve never been pushed to my limit before. I think about Trevor and how he might’ve hurt innocent kids. I’d convinced myself that he’d never do that on purpose, but then, I have no idea how far he’s been pushed and what he’s fighting for.

  Snyder must sense my hostility toward her because she stops halfway across the cell and crosses her arms.

  “You’re smart, Victoria. But do you think that you’re smarter than us? Than me?” Her gaze is locked on mine and her voice drips with hatred.

  There are many snappy comebacks that come to mind. I bite my tongue. I’m not in a position to show pride.

  “Of course not,” I say sweetly. I pour it on a little thick and her face muscles pull taut. That was too much and there’ll be a price. I’ve been holding in my emotions for so long that they’re starting to bubble out no matter how hard I try to keep them tucked inside.

  “You have a visitor.” She steps to the side.

  Caius walks in, and my heart free falls. But then my guard comes right up. His body language is too relaxed and there’s something wrong with his face. He looks way too calm as he takes the chair near my bed that one of the men in white coats places beside me.

  “Caius,” I say under my breath, but this is not him. What have they done to the real him?

  His pupils are large and unfocused. He looks at me but he’s not seeing me.

  I struggle to sit up, to scoot closer to him despite the fact he’s like a shell.

  “You look good, Victoria,” he says, further proof that it’s not him. I glance around, my eyes starting to focus, looking for the real Caius.

  Emotions overwhelm me but I pull on old tricks and quash them, stuffing them somewhere down deep. My fingers search for the hem of my shirt under the covers. I find it, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger to calm myself.

  “Thank you,” I say a little too stiffly. I don’t know what they’ve done to him, but a scorching flame rises inside me and I hope I can hold it back.

  He takes my hand. “Dr. Mangrove is helping me, and I’ve never felt better.”

  “Me, too.” Normally, when we touch, I feel so much warmth radiating from him but not this time. His hand is like ice.

  “I’m grateful to Councilwoman Snyder, too.” His voice is so stiff, rehearsed, that it makes me want to scream.

  “She’s the best.” I search his eyes.

  “I’ll give you two a little privacy,” Snyder says and then I hear the click of her heels on the white tiled floor.

  “Caius,” I whisper.

  He doesn’t flinch. His voice is robotic, “The food here is fantastic.”

  Food? Seriously? We’re talking about food.

  “I’ll be going home soon, and I’ll miss it. My mom can’t cook,” he says.

  “It’ll be good to see your sister.” I try to jog a memory.

  “It sure will. She’s a dancer,” he says.

  “I know, Caius.” My voice hitches on his name and I can’t stop a rogue tear from welling, breaking loose and tumbling down my cheek.

  And then I feel something. A gentle squeeze of his hand. Is it possible that he’s still in there?

  “When do you leave?”

  He shrugs. “Soon. My parents are coming to pick me up.”

  Is it Snyder telling him to keep him calm? Is she planning to kill him, too? I’m certain no one has ever left. The washouts have become like lab rats and now they’re as good as dead. It makes sense to me now why most Selected don’t have families. It’ll be easier down the road to do whatever it is they plan to do with us. Is the hand-squeeze a reflex? Or is it real?

  “Caius.” My voice is so low that I’m not sure if he can even hear me. “I love you.”

  He squeezes a little firmer this time. Just to make sure it’s not a reflex, I say it again.

  Another squeeze.

  He’s in there, in that shell, and he’s holding back.

  “What day is it?” I ask for lack of anything better to say.

  “Questioning too much isn’t good, Victoria. We have to trust that the council knows what they’re doing. Everything doesn’t always have to make sense. I figured that out and it’s freeing.” There’s another squeeze when he says my name. Is he putting on a show? Is he aware of what’s going on or am I reading too much into a few muscle spasms? I can’t ignore the possibility that I want so much for there to be someone in there, for him to be in there, I might be seeing what I want rather than what’s there.

  “You’re right.” I can’t bring myself to say his name. Is this even the real him? Maybe if I feed him a couple of lines of B.S. he’ll react. “I’ll try to be better about it from now on.”

  “If you cooperate, my folks have already said they would let me back into Easton,” he says in that monotone voice that belongs to someone else, not my Caius.

  “That’s great news.” I force a smile.

  “We can do everything we planned. Finish our senior year together. Go to the same college.” It’s the first time there’s any emotion in his voice.

  “Yeah,” I say with as much emotion as I can muster. It isn’t much and the real Caius would know that I’m acting. “It’ll be great.”

  “And the more you listen, the more privileges we’ll have.” His eyes are dull even though his voice is emoting happiness.

  “That makes total sense,” I say to him. He’s either on some kind of medication or this is a body double. Someone who looks and sounds like my boyfriend but isn’t the real him.

  “Also, Rhys has been expelled. He won’t be a problem for us any longer.”

  I can’t be sure if I heard this or I was dreaming, I’d been drifting in and out of sleep for what felt like days, but I remember hearing something about Rhys and his family getting in the way. They’re powerful, so I can’t imagine how they plan to make them go away quietly.

  “That’s nice. It’ll be good to be able to walk around school without worrying about him.”

  “Did you know that Adalynn stopped by?”

  Hearing her name sends sharp needles through my chest.

  “No,” I answer. I’m a little breathless. “What did she say?”

  “She wants you to know that her mother had a change of heart. She said that she finally convinced her to let you guys hang out again. Her mom wants to invite you over for a sleepover when you’re feeling better.”

  I feel fine but this is not the time to bring it up. A picture is starting to emerge. If I cooperate then the council is promising my life back. At least, the life I had at Easton. Only it’ll be even better because Rhys will be out of the picture. They’ve thought of everything. Almost.

  “What about Jax? Has he been by?”

  Caius’s gaze intensifies on a piece of my blanket and he clenches his back teeth. This is the most emotion I’ve seen from him so far. “About your friend. He was trying to make one of his gadgets and he…”

  “He what?” My heart leaps to my throat and I can’t breathe.

  He still won’t look at me. “He was electrocuted.”

  “And? What happened? Where is he?” Tears well in my eyes and I can’t hold back the flood.

  Caius, or whoever this imposter is, says matter-of-factly, “He’s…gone.”

  I fall limp. They killed him. They did it. They destroyed Jax for helping me. It’s a warning to me. They’ll let me keep my boyfriend and they’ll give me Adalynn, but Jax is too much of a risk. He can help me too much with his skills.

 
A thought strikes me. Did Caius know this before? Is this why he’s like a…a…robot now? Is he going along with what they want to hear for self-preservation? Is this his way of suggesting that I do the same? I have no idea if he tries to squeeze my hand this time because I let go of his. My mind is racing, and I’m overwhelmed with sadness.

  This is my fault.

  My mind races to the end of the school year. Jax tried to tell me that he was being monitored. But I never believed that a Legacy could be touched. He was afraid. And what did I do? I pushed him. I got angry with him for not being a better friend. And now this?

  “I’m tired,” I say to him. “You should go.”

  “Okay.” He makes no attempt to take my hand back. He stands and smiles. It’s not the effortless cool he normally is. There’s something stiff about him in general. What have they done to him? More liquid?

  “I love you,” he says almost mechanically, and I’m painfully aware that he’s gone, too.

  All I can think about is Jax.

  My door closes and I hear the snick of the lock. I roll onto my side, my back to them, waiting for the medicine to overwhelm me and force me to sleep. I’d welcome it at this point, a mindless, thoughtless slumber.

  But no magic liquid enters my system this time. My limbs are so heavy but it’s not from some random medicine. This is me, my system shutting down at hearing the news. I have no will to move.

  Fire roars through me. There must be some mistake. Jax can’t be gone. It’s too unreal. Too unbelievable. Too unfair. Part of me thinks that he’s going to walk through that door any minute. Or blast his way through, I think through a tearful smile. The idea that I’ll never see him again is not something I can process. I won’t process. It can’t be true.

  I don’t know how long I lay here. Minutes? Hours? A day?

  I’ve cried so much my eyes are dry. I’m numb.

  They don’t have to send Caius to talk to me again. I’ll do whatever they say. I don’t have a choice unless I want something bad to happen to him. If they can kill Jax and expel Rhys, they have all the power. Snyder has made it clear. We’re playing chess and she has me in check. If I don’t want anything worse to happen to him, I comply.

 

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