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by Chanda Stafford


  I can see Andrew is thinking about his father, too, because his eyes take on a faraway look. He takes a deep breath and holds it. Then, in a quieter, younger-sounding voice, he says, “This is the right decision, isn’t it Socrates? I mean, things are pretty bad the way they are. We really shouldn’t keep on the same course we’ve been on for the last two hundred years, right?”

  Agonized, he seems to beg me for reassurance, for support. Should I tell him about my own indecisions? That it was the love of a good woman, Eliot, that drove me to support this bill? That it wasn’t my own idea, my own passion, but hers? Hers and his father’s? No, Andrew needs to believe I want this with the same fire as he does.

  “Of course it is, Andrew. Your father would be proud.”

  Dead Girl

  Mira

  My bag of clothing sits open on the bed. It’s only halfway filled, a sad reminder of how few possessions I own. Mr. Flannigan told me I would be getting all new clothing, that I don’t have to bring anything, but I want my things, the pieces of me that Socrates doesn’t own, doesn’t control. It’s almost like I’m being erased, that as soon as I leave this room, this apartment, this farm, it’ll be as though I never existed in the first place.

  Tears burn my eyes, and I shut them, squeezing them tight. It won’t do me any good to cry. I have to meet Tan, and I don’t want him to see me like this. I want to be the strong, laughing girl he grew up with, the girl he petitioned the Chesanings to marry, not the one who’s already got her bag packed.

  The moon glows huge and low in the sky as I cross the courtyard. In the distance, crickets and frogs sing a melody to which only they know the lyrics. In the forest, something howls, a lonely drawn-out sound that raises the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck. My footsteps clap against the hard-packed earth, and I try to keep to the shadows on the off chance someone else is outside. I need to meet Tanner, but there’s something else I need to do first.

  In the barn, the steel walls shut out most of the nighttime noises. What remains barely filters through the cracked barn door. I can’t leave it open any more or turn on the lights. Someone would definitely notice that.

  The horses shuffle in their stalls, then relax when they realize it’s me. Tinker nickers softly and pokes her velvety nose over the stall door, her white blaze glowing in the darkness. I ignore her and make my way over to the stall at the end. I may not be able to change my fate, but I can change someone else’s.

  It’s much darker at this end of the barn. The pale sliver of light from the moon doesn’t reach nearly far enough, so when I reach the stall, I have to feel my way along the heavy, wooden door. My hand bumps against the latch, and I fumble around as I open it, trying to keep the old iron from clanging too heavily. Once that’s done and the door swings open, I slip inside, letting the darkness swallow me. It takes more time than I’d like for my eyes to adjust, but once they do, I can make out the long rectangular shape of the cage in the corner. Walking slowly over to it, I whisper, “Hey girl, pretty girl. It’s all right. I’m going to help you. No one’s going to hurt you anymore.”

  Is it even a girl? Oh well, it’s not as though the fox really understands what I’m saying, anyway. I crouch down. The metal bars are rusted, probably with sharp edges just waiting to rip into my fingers. There are no handles or ropes, and the crate looks about as old as Mr. Socrates. The last fox came in a plastic carrier with a nice, padded handle on top. Then again, that fox was raised by humans, docile and even wagging its tail for attention. It had no idea the horror that awaited it. This one hisses at me, angry and afraid. I don’t blame her. I’m sure I’d be just like that if I were in her position.

  Here we go. I reach forward and grab each side of the crate. The hiss changes into a rumbling growl that crescendos into a cat-like yowl. The cage is heavier than I’d expected, so it must be metal. The fox herself can’t weigh more than ten or fifteen pounds. I heft it up a few more inches, trying to get a closer look at her. Maybe she’ll recognize me and calm down. The fox yowls even louder. Yeah, fat chance, Mira. She’s not a dog. She’s a wild animal.

  “Shhh.” She doesn’t listen. Come on, Mir, it’s not like she can understand you. “I’m trying to save your life here.” I lug the cage out the back door and toward the edge of the forest as fast as I can. When the natural path shifts toward the playground, I hesitate. No, her best shot is the forest.

  As if sensing my plan, or maybe the scents of the forest, the fox quiets. “Just hold on,” I whisper, envisioning her dainty paws struggling to balance on the painfully sharp wire bottom. I move faster, panting, taking advantage of her quiet.

  By the time we make it to the edge of the forest, I’m sweating enough for the hounds to track me instead of the fox. Breathing heavily, I set the cage down and brace my hands on the top of it so I can catch my breath. Startled by the sudden movement, the terrified creature screeches and leaps forward, nipping at my hand through the bars.

  “Hey.” I jerk back from the sudden pain. When I tilt my hand toward the moonlight, the pale glow illuminates a rivulet of blood from where one of her teeth grazed me. Great, that’s all I need. With my luck, I’ll contract some sort of wild fox disease.

  After wiping my hand on my pants, I glance around to make sure I’m still alone. All clear, but kind of creepy. The forest stretches above and beyond on either side, its once welcoming branches forbidding and sinister, definitely not a place I would want to go, but perfect for the razor-toothed little beast in the cage.

  “Now don’t you bite me again.” I reach around for the latch in the shadowed light. I flip it, allowing the little metal door to swing open. For a few seconds, the fox crouches in the back corner. Her nose twitches, a delicate little movement. The breath I didn’t realize I was holding catches in my throat, and in one leap, she’s out and zipping through the grass. Then she’s gone, just another shadow hidden in the trees.

  “Good luck,” I whisper. What would it be like to be that fox? To have freedom within your grasp when you thought everything was lost? Would I run? Free in a forest that wasn’t my own? Or would I stay, cowering in the corner, afraid to step one foot into the unknown?

  Looking down at the cage, I decide to leave it there. I don’t have time to take it back to the barn before I meet Tanner anyway. I’ll just grab it on my way back.

  The playground at night is still full of light, though it’s the ghostly kind that makes me think the little kids who are gone might still be around. One of the old, cracked wooden swings clanks against another, a light wind twisting the metal chains. I blink, and in that split second, I hear my sister laughing, that head-thrown-back, open-mouthed laugh only the young have, the one they let out before they realize even something as simple as a laugh should be toned down to a more socially acceptable silence. Within minutes, I weave my way to Rosie’s little cross. It’s even more forlorn in the moonlight. The wind picks up, tickling the hairs at the back of my neck. It almost feels as if I’m not alone out here. But that’s crazy, I tell myself.

  I’m about to turn right back around when the brush rustles at the edge of the forest, and a human-shaped figure steps out. Whoever it is hesitates then heads toward me.

  “Mira,” Tanner whispers as he pulls me into his arms. I feel myself stiffen. Something’s not right. “I’m so glad you came. I thought I’d lost you.” His words are laced in his breath, desperate, as if he can’t waste another second, even to breathe, without telling me how he feels. His passion overwhelms me. I should feel the same way, do the same things. I should be holding on to him with all my might, right? He rests his head on mine. “I just can’t.”

  Unease makes me want to pull away, to ask him what he’ll do once I’m gone, but I’m afraid of the answer. “I don’t want to lose you, either,” I say, but the words almost feel hollow, like it’s expected that I say something like this. He presses his lips to mine, but even n
ow, right before I leave, I can’t return it.

  “No, you don’t understand. I can’t lose you.”

  “I know. I love you, too.” I search his eyes.

  “Do you really, Mir? What if this is it? What if this is the end for you, for us? I don’t know what I’d do without you. I wish I could make you understand how I feel.”

  I can’t take it any longer. I’m sick of everyone treating me like a child, of Tan telling me I don’t understand, of my mom acting as though it’s so great that I’m going, that it’s such an honor. I’m tired of Mr. Flannigan treating me as if I don’t know how to tie my shoes or go to the bathroom by myself.

  “Stop it, Tanner. Just stop it. I’m not a kid.” I push away from him and take a deep breath. “You think I don’t know that when I leave, we’re done?” My voice echoes in the sudden silence. Even the crickets are too frightened to keep chirping. Tears sting my eyes. “I know that. Why do you keep reminding me?” I bite my lower lip as a ripping pain wrenches my heart apart. Life without Tanner, my best friend… my almost husband… I can’t… I can’t deal with it right now… I turn away from him and stop. What should I do? Stay here, listen to how much he loves me? Or leave, go home and face those empty walls, the memories crammed into a half-full bag of old, worn-out hand-me-downs.

  He grabs my arm and spins me around. “Wait, I’m sorry. Please, I have to talk to you.” He takes a deep breath. “I… I met someone.”

  I look up at him in shock. He met someone? Already? A new girl? Someone prettier, nicer, less prone to getting in trouble? Someone safe? “I can’t believe this! It’s only been two days, and you’re already moving on to someone new? Who is it? Rasina? Cassity? Shauna?”

  Anger chases away the concern on his features. “You have got to be kidding me. Do you really think I’d do that?” He shakes his head. “You and I belong together, even the Chesanings know that.” He takes me by the shoulders and stares into my eyes. “I don’t want anyone else. Not now, not ever.” He gives me that sweet, heartbreaking smile that melts all the other girls. “Silly girl, you’re the only one for me.”

  “Who did you meet, then?”

  “A man.” He lifts my chin so I’m looking into his eyes. “Someone from outside the farm, a Lifer.”

  “Tanner, no! You’re going to get yourself killed!”

  He drops his hold on me and shakes his head. “That doesn’t matter. I’m trying to save you.”

  “Save me from what? Leaving the farm? I couldn’t bear it if they killed you for talking to a rebel.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He takes my hands in his and squeezes them, as if that might make me listen to him. “Listen to me! These men, your teacher and your First, they want to kill you.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “It’s true. You’ve got to believe me.” I shake my head, trying to pull my hands from his, but he won’t let go. “Dammit, Mira. This man, the one who came to the farm, he told me the truth.”

  “What truth is that?” I finally jerk my hands free and put them on my hips, glaring up at him. “Seems like everyone has their own version of reality, and no one’s telling me anything or letting me think for myself. Tell me, Tanner, just like everyone else is quick to do: what should I believe?”

  “You’ve known me your whole life. Why would you trust these people you’ve only known for a couple of days over me?”

  “Wait a second. You say I shouldn’t believe Mr. Socrates or Mr. Flannigan because I’ve only known them for a couple days, but you believe this rebel guy you just met today?”

  Tanner looks away, a muscle jumping in his set jaw. Finally he turns back to me. “I didn’t just meet him today. He came here before the First showed up.”

  “How did they know Mr. Socrates would pick me? It doesn’t make any sense. Our farm is a good day’s travel from anywhere else.”

  “My guess is they have people near all the farms, waiting for a First to name an Absolved.”

  “So… what is he supposed to do?” Tanner is involved with these people? These Lifers? That’s not the Tanner I know. The man who always follows the rules, does his job, even if he hates it. I look around me, feeling naked and vulnerable, as if the world has dropped out from under me.

  “He wants to meet you, of course.”

  “What if I don’t want to meet him?”

  Tanner rolls his eyes. “Stop being immature.”

  “Fine.” I huff, almost stamping my feet like Max in a tantrum. “What’s his name?”

  Tanner runs his hand through his hair and looks to both sides of us, as if making sure we’re alone. “Henri Lee.”

  I shake my head. “I’ve never heard of him.”

  Tanner raises his eyebrows. “Of course you haven’t. It’s not like we can watch the news here or see the protests, or even read about what’s going on around the rest of the world.”

  “Shhh, keep your voice down.” Okay, now he’s making me paranoid.

  “No one’s going to hear us, Mir. We’re alone out here.”

  But Tan’s earlier warning runs through my head. “Please, just… keep your voice down.”

  “Fine, whatever. As I was saying…” He lowers his voice. “Henri Lee is a Lifer, one of the largest groups of people rebelling against the government.”

  “What are they rebelling against?”

  Tanner lets out a hollow laugh. “Sometimes I forget how little you know. Unlike some of the other, smaller groups, the Lifers mostly protest Project ReGenesis.”

  “Really? Why would they object to me being freed?”

  “Umm, maybe because you’re still not going to be free?”

  I tilt my head and narrow my eyes at him. What is he talking about? “But I’m Absolved.”

  Tanner just shakes his head. “That’s just a different name for the same thing, Mira. And if what the rebels tell me is true…” He clamps his mouth shut, his eyes widening, like he almost caught himself saying something he shouldn’t.

  “What? If what is true? Please tell me! What does this guy want from me?” Tanner looks like he’s swallowed something sour, but he doesn’t say anything.

  “Fine, if you’re not going to tell me, I’m going back. I… I need to get some sleep.” I turn on my heels but only take a couple steps before Tanner’s hand wraps around my arm, stopping me. As I spin around, he pulls me against his chest with a soft “oompf.”

  “Wait, please. I’m sorry.” Listening to the heavy thump of his heartbeat, I feel myself slowly fall into that comfortable contentment I always experience around him.

  Shaking the foggy feeling from my head, I pull away, but he doesn’t let me go and keeps me cradled in his embrace. “I can’t do this, Tanner. Not right now.”

  “Please wait.” Desperation fills his tone. “This man, Henri Lee, said he could help you escape. He’ll help us go where no one can find us. Not the Chesanings, not the government, not your precious First. No one. We’ll be safe. That’s what Lifers do. They try to rescue Seconds and help them make new lives for themselves.”

  “Who told you this? Was it that Henri person?” Is he serious? Does he really want me to back out?

  He shakes his head. “I can’t say. It’s hard enough getting messages into or out of the farms. I don’t know all the details myself. It’s safer that way.”

  “Safer for whom?”

  “Everyone. If I was captured or tortured, I wouldn’t be able to reveal my contacts, just the place the contact takes place.” He cracks a smile. “The others would be safe.”

  “But why? I thought this was such a good thing.”

  Tanner looks off into the distance, as if trying figure out what he should tell me. “You know I’d never hurt you, right?” His hands tighten on my shoulders, and his eyes search mine.
>
  “Of course,” I answer quickly. “But you’re kind of scaring me.”

  “Don’t be afraid. Fight this with me. Talk to Henri Lee. He can help us. The Lifers can get us out. We’ll run away, be safe. You don’t have to be a Second, Mira.”

  A cold shaft of air shoots right through me as I think about running away, the disgraced look on my mother’s face, the embarrassment, and the shunning. And Max, standing in a line, all because I was weak. I couldn’t do that to them.

  But what if I did escape with Tanner, and we took Max with us? We could live in the wilderness, off the land. It couldn’t be too hard, right? We could live right in a little cabin nestled in a clearing surrounded by tall pine trees. Made with our own hands. A home where we don’t have to look over our shoulders all the time. Someplace safe.

  You can have that, a voice whispers seductively in the back of my head. You can be with him. You can have a future you want, not something someone else chose for you. But then I see Max standing there next to me, clutching his newly tattooed arm to his chest. “Tanner, I can’t.”

  He closes his eyes, letting out the heavy, disappointed breath he’d been holding. “Just talk to him, please?”

  I bite my lip. “Okay, but it’s just talk. I’m not running away.”

  Hope sparks in his eyes, and his lips quirk at the corners. “Fine, just listen to him. That’s all I’m asking.”

  “When do you want me to meet him?”

  Tanner opens his mouth just as the shadows behind him move, and a dark shape, larger than either of us, steps forward.

  I shriek and stumble back, eyes wide. “Tanner? Look behind you!”

  My would-be knight in shining armor jumps in front me as the stranger steps into the little graveyard, carefully tiptoeing around the tiny crosses. His face is liberally coated with black paint, and the whites of his eyes are almost blinding in the moonlight.

 

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