by Aimee Carter
My eyes widened, and I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from commenting. Lila would have known what to expect, and Daxton stood calmly beside me, as if nothing strange were happening. I clung to the metal bar so tightly that my knuckles turned white, but even though we were floating in midair, the platform didn’t wobble.
“Ready?” called the driver, and Daxton nodded. I resisted the urge to squeeze my eyes shut, and instead I watched as he steered us out of the building, past the clearing, and into the forest.
The faster we went, the higher the platform floated, giving me a view of the surrounding forest. We had plenty of run-down parks in the Heights, but they were nothing like this. Thick with autumn foliage, the trees were colorful and the moss on the ground was the most vivid green I’d ever seen. The air here was cleaner, too, and everything seemed brighter.
The driver weaved between the trees expertly, and the bitter wind made me grateful Celia had bundled me up. Once I was positive I wasn’t going to fall off or lose my balance, I loosened my grip on the railing. I could see why Daxton enjoyed it so much. Besides the chill, it was almost fun.
After nearly fifteen minutes, we reached a massive chain-link fence guarded by dozens of Shields with guns that looked even more deadly than the one Daxton held. The gate opened for us, and I frowned.
“To sort the game I requested,” said Daxton, answering my unspoken question. “Wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt, would we?”
He flashed me a dazzling smile, and I looked away, keeping my eyes peeled for any signs of movement on the ground.
A minute later, Daxton raised his rifle and aimed. As I craned my neck to see what it was, he pulled the trigger, and the sound was deafening. I clamped my hands over my ears, but the noise didn’t seem to bother Daxton. Cursing to himself, he lowered his rifle and instructed the driver to slow down.
Shortly after, he raised his rifle again, and this time I was ready. I covered my ears as something pale flashed in the distance. A rabbit, maybe, or a light-colored deer. I couldn’t see well enough to be sure.
“You should watch,” said Daxton, his eyes shining. “You’ll like this.”
I obediently leaned against the rail to get a better look. He held his gun at the ready, his finger on the trigger as he waited, but nothing appeared.
“What—” I said, but Daxton shook his head, and I fell silent. We’d all but stopped now, and the hum of the platform was barely audible. I noticed something out of the corner of my eye, but by the time I turned my head, it was gone.
“Aha,” said Daxton. “There!”
The driver pulled the platform around, and finally I saw what had caused the flash of something pale.
Crouched in the bushes, her face dirty and her clothes torn, was a woman.
I blinked. Was that—
It couldn’t be.
“Nina?”
Without thinking, I sprang forward. I was halfway over the railing when Daxton grabbed my wrist and pulled me back onto the platform. “Don’t move.”
I struggled against his bruising grip, and when he let go, cold metal bit into my skin. He’d handcuffed me to the railing.
“Nina!” I shouted, yanking against the chain. “Over here!”
Instead of running toward us, she froze in fear, her eyes wide as she stared at us. As she stared at me.
“Please don’t,” she cried as tears streamed down her face. “I’ll do anything.”
For a moment our eyes locked, and all the air left my lungs. Desperation and fear were written all over her face, and she clung to the tree beside her as if it would protect her.
I didn’t understand. Why wasn’t she coming toward us?
“Lila,” she choked. “Please.”
“Nina,” I said, stretching my free hand out toward her. “It’s safe up here, come on—”
“Keep watching, Lila,” said Daxton as he aimed. “I want you to remember this moment.”
“But—”
And then it dawned on me.
I launched myself toward Daxton, but the cuff bit into my skin and nearly wrenched my shoulder out of place. “Stop!” I cried. “She’s—”
Bang.
The tree behind her splattered red with blood, and Nina crumpled to the ground.
She was dead.
“Got it,” he said, smirking as he started to reload. The world spun around me, and I leaned over the railing and retched.
“Welcome,” said Daxton, “to Elsewhere.”
VII
Trust
Time seemed to slow down as the platform raced through the forest, away from Nina’s dead body.
She was gone. Nina was gone, and it was my fault. Her being here today, Daxton killing her—
I couldn’t breathe. The trees felt as if they were closing in around us, slowly suffocating me as reality set in.
Nina was dead. She was really dead.
The only thing that kept me from kicking the life out of Daxton was what Celia had told me that morning. If I upset him, I would become one of them for sure, no matter who I looked like. And it wouldn’t change anything anyway.
I buried my face in my free hand and sobbed. Celia had known this was going to happen. Maybe she’d even known about Nina. She’d known, and she hadn’t warned me. She really was no better than Daxton.
For the rest of the afternoon I sat on the edge of the platform, closed my eyes, and tried to ignore the shots from the rifle and the howls of joy that followed. I tried not to picture their faces. I tried to forget watching Nina die and not think about what she could’ve possibly done to wind up here—what any of them could have done. Steal an orange, maybe, except they hadn’t been lucky enough to have Lila’s eyes and get away with it.
Daxton unshackled me before we returned to the lodge, a rustic building full of overstuffed armchairs and trophies in cases. I didn’t wait for him to show me around. The moment I spotted the door, I headed outside and back to the plane. Daxton didn’t stop me, and as soon as I was alone in the jet, I went into the bathroom and was sick.
This was Elsewhere. All those elderly people, all the criminals, all the people who weren’t smart enough to meet the standards of the government—this was their fate, to be sent Elsewhere and hunted like animals.
Lying there on the cool tile floor, I wondered how many people knew about this place and had never said anything. Lila had been here, and Celia knew, as well. This was why she’d wanted me to go, I realized. This was why she’d wanted me to think about her offer before I answered—so I would see this and understand exactly how twisted Daxton was.
It wasn’t only Daxton, though. It was Minister Bradley, too, and Minister Creed. Every minister, as far as I knew—would Knox one day stand on the same platform and hunt people whose only crime had been to speak their mind or steal a pair of shoes when theirs fell apart? Had he done so already?
No. I refused to believe he could have gone along with this. If he hunted, Daxton would have invited him along. Besides, Knox had been there when I’d watched Lila’s speeches. He was as much a part of that as Celia.
But how many children of ministers changed their tune once they had power? How many stopped caring when they no longer had to worry about becoming one of the hunted?
By the time Daxton returned, I was curled up in the armchair in front of the fire, shivering despite my layers of fur. He said nothing as the jet took off, and it wasn’t until we were well on our way that he settled into the seat next to mine.
“How did you get a III?”
The sound of his voice made my stomach churn again, but there wasn’t anything left to come up. I stared resolutely at the fire.
“You seem too clever for it,” he continued. “I was sure Mother would make us wait another few weeks for you to get more practice, but you’r
e perfect as Lila. No one there suspected a thing. Did you throw the aptitude test on purpose?”
I shook my head, dumbfounded. “Do you not get how important that test is to your people? Do you really think someone would ever purposely fail?”
Daxton drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair, perfectly calm. “Then what was it?”
“I ran out of time,” I said through gritted teeth. If Celia and Knox hadn’t told him I couldn’t read, I wasn’t about to give him something else to hold over my head. “I had to leave a third of it blank.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You left a third of it blank and still received a III?”
My nails dug into the soft leather of the chair. “You want to talk about my test when you just killed the only mother I’ve ever had?”
“You have Celia now,” he said. “You are in need of a mother, and she is in need of a daughter. It’s a perfect fit.”
“What about the other people you killed? What about their mothers and daughters?”
“They were criminals,” he said. “Ones who were warned ahead of time what the penalty of their crimes would be.”
“What did they do? Steal a bit of food? Talk back to a Shield? What did Nina do to deserve to die?”
“She hid you,” said Daxton, and he might as well have punched me in the gut. “You think I don’t know about that? I know about everything, Kitty, and you would be wise never to forget that.”
I struggled for air, and the walls of the plane pressed in on me like the trees had done in the forest. It really was my fault. All she’d done was try to protect me, and she’d died for it.
Oh God. Benjy.
“Did you know,” said Daxton as he folded his hands and studied me, “that if we did not punish every criminal, there wouldn’t be enough to feed everyone?”
“Then why don’t you sell the damn jet and buy more food?” I choked, my eyes watering with anger. What if Benjy was there, too? Had he been one of the others Daxton had killed?
He shook his head. “You don’t understand. Shortly after my grandfather was elected into office, our economy collapsed, and everyone was destitute—no one had enough, and people were starving. The country had—still has—a finite number of resources. There is only so much food and drinking water. There are only so many teachers, so many doctors, and so many scientists. The mediocre and the dim vastly outnumber the intelligent, and it has been that way for far too long. We outgrew ourselves. Our economy suffered, and so did our people. Crime was astronomical, and no one had any hope of a better life. That is why he helped turn the ruins of the United States into the shining beacon it is today.”
“At least then you didn’t get shot for stepping out of line,” I spat.
“At least now you have enough food to eat,” he said. “At least now you can sleep safe in your bed and not fear your neighbors ransacking your home and murdering your entire family.”
“Why would I fear my neighbors when my government does it for them?”
Daxton took a deep breath. “I did not make the laws. My grandfather did, and he did so with the welfare of the entire country in mind. Without Elsewhere, the overpopulation would be so bad that we would still be where we were seventy-one years ago—too many mouths, too little food, and no one had enough. There was no clean water. The currency was useless, and everyone had to fend for themselves. Do you understand what kind of chaos that brings?”
I knew what kind of chaos this government brought, and that was enough for me.
“We needed a way to help average out the country,” said Daxton once it was clear I wasn’t going to answer. “Yes, there are winners and losers. Yes, it is difficult for those who are at the bottom of the heap and those who lose loved ones to Elsewhere. But our society must make those sacrifices in order to survive.”
“Like the Harts make sacrifices?” I muttered.
“Someone must rule, and it is imperative that those who do know the ins and outs of the country. America has thrived under my family’s reign. This world exists because my grandfather had the courage to step up and give everything he had to fixing this country. Now, because of him, we have a controlled population whose value is decided through identical measurements, and they are given resources to equal their worth. Everyone contributes what they can. As a III, you could never hope to do the work of a VI.”
“But I can be a VII.”
“Yes, because VII is inherited, not earned.” He patted me on the knee, and I jerked away.
“Don’t touch me.”
Daxton leaned in close enough for me to smell the faint trace of whiskey on his breath. “Like it or not, this is how it’s been for decades, and this is how it’s going to stay. Everyone gets what they deserve based on what they’re worth, and if they do anything to take away from our society, they pay the price. The elderly can no longer do the jobs the young people can do, so they go. The criminals choose to take that risk, and when they’re caught, it’s usually not their first offense anyway. And the Is—” He shook his head. “Useless, drooling idiots, the lot of them. Some of them show signs of worth, and they’re kept in special facilities until we can determine that. But the vast majority do nothing but eat, sleep, and use up resources they do not earn. They have no place within society.”
“So you kill them.” It wasn’t a question. “Not even humanely, but as entertainment.”
He shrugged. “Occasionally, if they’re still alive after we harvest their organs.”
Sickened, I stood. Before I could storm off, however, Daxton grabbed my arm and held me in place. Remembering Celia’s words, I didn’t struggle. As much as I wanted to kill him for what he’d done to Nina, the price was my life, and she wouldn’t have wanted me to die because of her.
“Let’s get something straight,” he said in a low voice that slithered through me, chilling me to the bone. “You might have a VII on the back of your neck, but it only entitles you to the privileges that come with it as long as I say so. You aren’t here to change the world, Kitty. You’re here to do what I tell you. Don’t mistake your face with who you really are and what you’re worth to society. You are just as replaceable as Lila.”
“You think I don’t get that?” I said. “I know you own me. You didn’t need to kill Nina to prove it.”
His grip tightened, and I hissed in pain. “Do you know how we found you at that filthy club?” His eyes glittered with malevolence, and every trace of his usual charming facade was gone. “We looked you up, Kitty Doe. We tracked you down. We went to your group home, and your matron lied for you. Now she’s paid the price, and you only have yourself to blame.”
I blinked back tears, refusing to give him the satisfaction of making me cry.
“Luckily we did manage to find someone who knew where you were going,” said Daxton. “Benjamin Doe.”
All the blood drained from my face, and my knees buckled. “What did you do to him?”
His lips twisted into a calculating smile. “I see I’ve hit a nerve. How fascinating.”
“Tell me what you did to him, or I’ll throw you out of this jet.”
He chuckled. “I would love to see you try. We’ve done nothing to him yet. He shows quite a bit of promise, and we are of course keeping an eye on him, but he’s safe for the time being. You have my word that as long as you behave, he will live a long and happy life.”
So that was it. As sure as I’d been that they couldn’t possibly have known about Benjy, they knew anyway, and now his life was directly attached to how well I could sit, stay, and roll over.
There was nothing Daxton could possibly do that could ever make me hurt Benjy. Even if it meant putting up with this and staying silent about the things Lila had the courage to fight, Daxton had me, and he knew it.
When the jet landed and the pilot welcomed us back to the District of Columbia, I
was so worn down and weary that I allowed Daxton to take my arm and lead me down the steps. Just like every other decent thing Daxton did, I knew it was only to show a waiting Celia that he had me, and her expression hardened as we walked toward the cars.
“Have a nice hunt?” she said. Daxton released me, and Celia wrapped her arm protectively around my shoulders.
“Lovely,” said Daxton as a guard opened the door for him. “I’m afraid all the excitement seems to have worn Lila out, though, so as soon as we get back to Somerset, you may want to put the poor dear to bed.”
“I’ll make sure to do that,” said Celia coldly. After Daxton got into the first car, Celia ushered me into the second, where Knox was waiting. I said nothing until the door was closed and we were driving away.
“Why didn’t you warn me?”
Celia fixed a drink from some sort of icebox in the side of the car, and she thrust the cold glass into my hand. “Because you needed to see it for yourself. Drink.”
“He killed Nina,” I said. “She was practically my mother.”
“I’m sorry,” said Celia. “Truly. But there’s nothing we can do about that now, and you need to calm down. You’re shaking. Please, drink.”
No, but there was something she could’ve done about it that morning. I took a sip and nearly spat the burning liquid out. “That’s disgusting.”
“It’s brandy,” she said. “It’ll help calm your nerves.”
I wrinkled my nose and set the drink aside. “What I need is a damn phone.”
“Don’t say damn,” she said, and Knox wordlessly fished something out of his pocket and offered it to me.
“What is that?” I said, taking it warily. It was a piece of glass roughly the size of my little finger, and it was so thin that I was afraid I would snap it in two.
“A phone,” he said. “Touch the screen.”
I brushed my fingertip against the surface. It lit up with blue symbols, and there were so many that I didn’t know which to press first. “How do I dial?”