“I’m so sorry. I was wrong to leave you. You were right about everything.”
“Stop it, Glory,” Burn says from behind me. “Don’t look at the screen.” I wish I could turn to reassure him, but I can’t let Mrs. Kalin doubt her control.
“As soon as I was gone,” I tell her, “I realized my mistake. I fought to get back here, and now that I am, now that I’ve seen you again, I can’t remember why I left.”
“If you’re not sincere, I will be very disappointed.” She stares into my eyes.
“I understand. Please, Mother. All I want to do is make you proud.”
“Bring her to me.”
Two Comps grab me by the arms.
Mrs. Kalin waves her hand. “Kill the others.”
I strain against the Comps’ hold. “No!”
Mrs. Kalin frowns. “Have you been lying to me?”
“No! I would never lie to you, Mrs. Kalin.”
She wags her finger. “Mother.”
“Mother, please, don’t reject my offering.” I gesture to the others.
“Your offering?” Her frown deepens. “Surely you don’t mean these traitors? They’re only a gift to me if they’re dead.”
“But Mother, I brought these Deviants for your experiments.”
Mrs. Kalin leans back slightly. I hear her voice in my mind. Their deaths are inevitable. They must die.
The wall I built to keep her out is shaky, but I can still sense my own thoughts. “They must die,” I say, “but why not let them contribute to science first? Research is Haven’s top priority.” I quote her own propaganda, but again her thoughts invade mine.
You trust me, she thinks. You know I want the best for you. I am the one who will decide what happens to your Deviant friends.
My head aches. I fight to support the wall in my mind. It’s about to crumble. “It’s your decision.” I let my chin quiver. I want to blink, but I can’t, and I’m no longer sure which thoughts are my own. “I want to please you. But if you don’t like my present, then by all means—” I gesture to the Comp who’s picked up his ax.
“You really brought these Deviants for me?” Mrs. Kalin asks. “Your brother? Your best friend? The monster who stole you from me?”
I nod. “I want to make up for what I did. I need you to forgive me. Please . . .”
“Very well,” she says and looks at the Comps holding me. “Take the volunteers to the Hospital, and bring my daughter to me.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
THE HOSPITAL DOORS open, and a group of men and women in white coats emerge.
While the Comps who escorted us here keep their Shocker guns pointed at us, the staff brings out metal bands that they tighten around my friends’ heads like crowns.
“What are the bands for?” I ask. It’s the same thing I saw on Joshua.
One of the women turns to me. “The halos are for the Deviants’ protection. If necessary, we use them to repress their Deviant traits until we are in controlled experimental conditions. We don’t want our subjects injuring themselves.”
“Is that really necessary? Does Mrs. Kalin know you’re doing this?”
“Of course. The President invented the device.”
“Kneel,” says the technician trying to put the halo on Burn.
He does as she asks and nods to me that he’s okay, but the tendons in his neck are straining. His trust fills my heart. For all Burn knows, what I told Mrs. Kalin is true.
“Small sacrifices yield giant leaps,” Drake says to the tech tightening the band around his skull.
His armor’s still up, so I know he’s afraid, or stressed, even though he still seems to be under Mrs. Kalin’s control.
The Hospital tech finishes installing Drake’s halo, then pushes up his sleeves to examine his armor. The tech nods as he makes notes on a clipboard.
“Stop it.” Jayma pushes against the worker trying to install her headgear, and the woman slams back against the wall.
The Comps reactivate Jayma’s Shocker tags, and she crumples to her knees.
“Don’t hurt her.” Drake strides forward.
One of the women presses a button on an electronic pad that’s clipped to her coat. Drake stops. His armor retracts. He trembles but he seems unable to move.
“What’s happening?” I ask. “What did you do to my brother?”
“The halos create brain-wave interference to block emotions.” The tech taps the button again, and Drake relaxes. “We’ve discovered that by blocking emotions we can block a subject’s Deviance.”
What have I done? I might have saved them from having their heads chopped off in the Hub, but for what?
“That hurt,” Drake says calmly and lifts a hand to his head.
“Small sacrifices yield giant leaps,” the tech says, and Drake smiles.
Jayma slumps in defeat, and they install the band on her head.
Everyone except me is fitted with a halo, and then we’re led into the Hospital. The last time I was here, the corridors were quiet and nearly deserted, but now they’re noisy and crowded. Many people look up from their clipboards or conversations and smile as we pass.
“Welcome,” says a woman wearing a gray cap that covers her hair and ears. “Thank you for your service. Science equals safety.”
“Science equals safety,” I repeat.
My thoughts are back under my own control, but the Hospital workers are easy to fool. Mrs. Kalin won’t be.
I crane my neck to watch as the tech at the head of our group pushes a code into a keypad to open a set of double doors. My friends are guided through, and I’m the last one in the hall. I step forward, but a man seizes my arm.
“We’re taking you to see the President.”
“I want to say good-bye to my friends.” I pull against him. The doors are about to close.
“That’s not necessary,” he says.
I pull out of his grip and jam my foot in the doorway. I yank one door open.
My brother and my friends are all frozen in place, and techs have descended on each of them, stripping them to their underwear.
“Is that necessary?” I run up to the worker who’s cutting off Jayma’s pants. “Glory,” Mrs. Kalin says.
I find her image on a screen. I must not look away. If I do, she’ll know.
Small sacrifices yield giant leaps. I struggle to figure out whether that was my own thought, or whether Mrs. Kalin planted it there. Either way, the words might be true, but I don’t want to sacrifice my friends.
“Your staff is hurting them,” I say to her image, trying to temper the anger in my voice.
“Are you telling me how I should treat these Deviants?” Her image grows as she leans toward the camera.
“I don’t want them to suffer. I don’t want them to die.”
“Small sacrifices—”
“Death is not a small sacrifice!”
Her lips purse. Only her head and torso are in the frame, but I can imagine her manicured fingers smoothing the fabric of her skirt.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Burn. They’ve chained his ankles to bolts on the floor. Bands around his wrists are chained to a pipe running the length of the room. He’s not moving, and I assume that the halo is activated.
“Come to me.” Mrs. Kalin smiles. “And if you like, we will discuss your friends’ contributions in more detail.”
I nod, fighting to make my smile sincere.
So far I’ve been able to block her, but the separation of the screen might be helping. I only hope I’m strong enough to keep her out of my mind when I confront her in person.
The instant we return to the corridor, the Hospital worker blindfolds me.
“What’s that for?” I resist the urge to pull it off.
“The President’s orders.” He puts a hand on my back and shoves. “We don’t want to keep her waiting.”
Walking blindly through the Hospital corridors, I’m even more aware of the crowds and the noise and the smells.
“E
xcuse me,” a man says as he jostles me. My shoulder strikes what feels like the corner of a wall.
Sharp, astringent odors sting my nose and throat as we continue, and then I detect the coppery tang of blood. Every few moments the chatter in the halls is punctuated by screams. I jump, muscles seizing, and my handler grips my shoulder.
“Release her,” says a male voice that crackles over an intercom. “Step back.”
The hands drop off me, and I hear footsteps backing away. Then a click. Air moves across my skin. I must be standing beside a door, and I reach out, groping, trying to discover something, anything, about my surroundings.
My hand lands on a hard, cold surface.
“This way,” another man says.
I’m pulled forward, and after a few seconds, I hear the door close behind me. This new corridor is quieter and the air is different, less tinged with chemicals and fear.
We stop. Once again, a voice comes over a speaker, a door opens, and I’m passed off to a new guide.
As I’m led through the halls, I try to keep a map in my mind of each time we turn, each time we go up or down stairs, and each time I’m passed off to a new guard. I try to find audio clues or landmarks—but disoriented, I quickly lose track. Twice, I’m pulled into a space that feels like it’s moving, and my best guess is that we’re inside elevators. I’m inexperienced with elevators, but I’m pretty sure we go down.
After the fifth handoff, my blindfold is removed, and I squint against a light that’s affixed to the wall beside me. Where am I?
The corridor is narrow and might be a tunnel. The light doesn’t travel far into the darkness. The floor and walls are bare concrete. The air is cool and damp. I look up to my guide and it’s no one I recognize. His cheeks are covered in red pimples, and his green eyes are so pale they seem translucent.
“Where am I? Are we still in the Hospital?”
“I’m not supposed to tell you.”
I rub the goose bumps on my arms. “Where’s Mrs. Kalin?”
“The President is through those doors at the end of the hall.” He points ahead.
“Where?” I squint through the blackness.
“There.” He flicks his wrist and a series of lights come on.
“How did you do that?” I ask.
He laughs again. “I’m Chosen. Since the President wants to see you, I expect you are, too.” He reaches out his arm. A metal rod, leaning against the wall, flies twenty feet through the air and into his hand. “That’s what I do. And you?”
“If I show you, I’ll kill you.”
His eyes open wide, then he grins. “Impressive.”
My heart races as I start down the hall. With each step, my anxiety grows and I force myself to take deep breaths.
I reach for the doors, but before I have a chance to push, they swing open to reveal a space that’s painted a soothing shade of blue. It’s like the sky Outside on a hazy day. The air smells fresh, although I think we’re several stories underground.
As I step onto a thick carpet, artwork draws my eyes, and I recognize one of the paintings from Mrs. Kalin’s apartment. But I’m definitely somewhere else. Two long sofas and several chairs are arranged in a cozy square. On either side of the door, shelves cover the wall. They contain dozens of books and almost as many beautiful objects—vases and teacups from BTD.
To my right, a high-backed chair faces a wall of screens that flick between various locations around Haven.
The chair spins toward me, and Mrs. Kalin removes a listening bud from her ear.
“Hello, Glory.”
She rises and slowly approaches. She walks with such elegant confidence, placing each foot almost directly in front of the other, and her hips sway as she glides toward me. Her dark-blue suit shines from some rich material, and a clear gem that’s strung around her neck catches an overhead light.
I can’t stop staring. Her hair is loose and the dark curls bounce on her shoulders. I remember how my mother’s hair would do that for the first few days after she gave it a vinegar rinse. Tension melts from my shoulders as I look into Mrs. Kalin’s eyes.
She reaches up to push the hair from my face. “Your skin is so dark. Is that what happens in sunlight?”
I nod.
“It suits you.” Her thumb brushes over my cheek.
“Thank you.”
“Tell me about Outside.”
“Sunlight feels fabulous on your skin,” I tell her. “Unless you stay out too long. Then your skin gets red, and after a few days, the top layer peels off. My skin doesn’t burn much in the sun, but my friend Jayma—” I stop myself and press my lips together. What’s wrong with me?
“Come.” She takes my hand and leads me toward the sofas. “Tell me more about your experiences Outside. Every piece of information helps us build our understanding. Your research will help keep us safe.”
Warmth spreads inside me. “Because of your research, everyone in Haven will be able to live safely Outside someday, even Normals, right?”
She smiles, but it’s a weak smile that snaps me out of my euphoria and reminds me that I have to be careful. Her mind control is definitely affecting me, and I have to stay sharp. I can’t forget my mission.
I focus on a pointed glass sculpture that’s in the middle of a table in the sitting area. I also recognize it from Mrs. Kalin’s apartment. She called it an obelisk.
She sits on a sofa and pats the space beside her. I sit as far away as I can.
“I’m pleased that you’re back, Glory. Very pleased. And you’ll be glad to hear that, while you were gone, we successfully defeated the terrorists and others who invaded Haven.”
I nod.
“I was so concerned when that monster took you off the balcony.” She holds my hand and looks into my eyes. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” I say. “He didn’t hurt me, and I came back as soon as I could.”
“Why did it take so long?”
“I . . . I couldn’t get back. I tried.” She doesn’t believe me. I see skepticism in her eyes.
You trust me, she thinks. I am your mother and you will do whatever I ask. You want to please me. You believe in my research.
“I’m so excited about your research,” I say. “I can’t wait to help in any way that you ask.”
“I’m happy to hear that.”
“And you’ve found others who are Chosen?”
She tips her head to the side.
“The man who brought me to your door.” I gesture toward the hall. “He can move things with his mind.”
She smiles. “Yes. Others are Chosen, but none with your talents or mine.” She squeezes my hand. “You and I, my daughter, are destined to lead.”
It’s time. I need to be brave. I need to do this.
Before she pulls me under her spell, I need to kill her.
Focusing on her eyes, I let my Deviance build. The thoughts she’s pushing into my mind make it difficult to concentrate, but I focus in on her heart, sensing the flow of her blood, the thumping rhythm of the organ’s beat.
I squeeze.
Her eyes reveal pain, and her grip on my hand tightens until her nails dig into my skin.
I am a traitor, I think.
No! She planted that thought in my mind.
It’s over. She knows what I’m doing. There’s no going back. If I fail to kill her, she’ll kill me.
Staying focused on her eyes, I increase my grip on her heart, on her lungs, but for some reason, I don’t have the power to squeeze.
I can’t kill her. It would be like killing my mother all over again. That would make me a monster. It’s unforgivable. I would never be able to live with myself. Besides, I love Mrs. Kalin. I would never do anything to hurt her.
I break eye contact and bend forward, heaving for breath. Raising my hands to my head, I rock back and forth, tears in my eyes. “I’m so sorry. So sorry.” I turn to her. “Can you ever forgive me?”
“Of course. Children make mistakes. As your mother,
it’s my job to guide you and help you learn.” She lifts my face and stares into my eyes. “You’ll never, ever, hurt me again.”
“I’ll never hurt you. Not ever. And I’ll never disobey you.” Relief rushes through me. My breaths come fast and shallow. I drop my hands to my lap, and small trails of blood flow from the nail marks on my skin.
The fog in my mind starts to clear. Mrs. Kalin stopped me. I was almost there; she was almost dead, but she used her Deviance to talk me out of using my own.
I inhale slowly, pulling air to the bottoms of my lungs. I need to calm down. I need to regain control before trying again.
Next time I’ll be stronger. Faster. Next time I won’t let her into my mind.
“Come.” She stands.
I take her hand, and she leads me behind a partial wall where there are a few pieces of wooden furniture and a bed. Sleep is tempting, and if she suggests that I take a rest, I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist, but she leads me in front of a mirror that’s attached to the wall.
It’s long and wide enough that I can see my entire image and hers beside me. It’s like the mirror I saw in the clothing store when she bought me a dress. I look down at my feet.
“Look at yourself.” Mrs. Kalin puts her hand on my lower back. “Now.”
I raise my gaze. My pants look dirty and shabby next to her pristine skirt. The hem of my shirt is torn and its neckline scoops down low over my chest. I cross my arms to cover my darkened brown skin. My hair’s tucked tightly behind my ears.
Lastly, I look into my eyes. Nerves twist, nausea rises, and I turn my head to the side.
Mrs. Kalin grabs my chin and twists my head back. “Look at yourself, darling. Look.”
I do as she says. I focus on my face, my eyes.
I hate this. I can’t stand seeing my own image. It’s like a thousand rats are crawling over my skin. I close my eyes.
“Open them,” she says calmly. “Look into your eyes. You need to see who you really are. You need to see yourself the way I see you.”
Trembling, I open my eyes.
“What do you see?” she asks.
“I—” My mouth is dry, my voice shaky. “I see my reflection.”
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