Revive

by Tracey Martin

  “Actually, that part wasn’t too hard. Every city has unpleasant people who carry lots of cash, and none of them suspect someone who looks like me is going to be a walking weapon. I mean, I wasn’t about to steal from innocent people. I’ve done enough damage that way, and I had time to be choosy. Once I got on Malone’s trail, it took me a week to start piecing everything together. And then it took a few more weeks before I found X.”

  Jordan lets out a noise halfway between a laugh and a whimper. “You could have died.”

  “Still might.”

  “Damn, Soph.” She jumps off the sinks. “How much money do you have?”

  “Had. A few thousand dollars. But now Malone has it, although I’m not sure he realizes it. It’s rolled inside a hat and a pair of mittens in my backpack. I never had the chance to store it somewhere safer, and I took it all with me yesterday morning.”

  Yesterday morning. I can’t believe I only left RTC with Kyle yesterday morning. It feels like another lifetime.

  “You’re taking this way too calmly,” I say.

  Jordan smiles slowly. “Nah, I’m just covering up my hysteria better than you did earlier. None of it surprises me. I’ve always known there was something wrong about this place. Fitzpatrick—or maybe it was Malone—could try to keep us blind by controlling our access to the outside world, but I’ve got instincts. They didn’t create us to be stupid.”

  “True. You always hated it here.”

  “Damn straight.” She seems to be calculating something. “Can you prove any of this?”

  I grimace. “Depends on how patient you are. Everything I read is stored in my memory, obviously, but you know the problem with downloading.”

  The neural implants don’t store data the same way a normal computer chip does. I could transfer my memories, but to do it cleanly—that is, minus things like my emotional state and background noise that would garble the data—would take time. And we’d need the camp’s software to translate the data into something readable.

  “It’s also saved to a data stick,” I add. “I thought I might need it to convince X when I found him. But that’s in my backpack along with the money. You want proof?”

  “I’m curious, but no. I don’t think we’ll need it. Your story and the money—if we can get it—will be enough.”

  “Enough for what?”

  She pretends to slap me. “Enough for what? What do you think? Enough to GO.”

  “Oh, no. I was afraid you’d do that. No way.” Jordan starts to protest, and I cut her off. “I have to get out of here because tomorrow morning Malone’s having my memory wiped, and they’re taking Kyle away. I have…” I check my internal clock for how much time has passed since I left Malone’s office. “I have probably less than ten hours to figure out how to rescue him and escape, and I can’t be worrying that you’re going to get hurt trying to help me.”

  Jordan blocks the door. “Please. You think you have any chance of rescuing that boy and getting out of here without help? Maybe you could sneak away on your own. But taking him with you? Not going to happen. You need me. You need us. Besides, we stick together—that was always the deal.”

  “Us?”

  “Us.” She puts her ear to the door then steps away from it, lowering her voice. “Not the whole unit, but some of us. The others might be persuaded if you have evidence, but there’s no time to download it from your brain. You need us, Soph. You know it.”

  I do know it, so I rub my eyes and sigh. “Yeah.”

  “Quarter after one tonight,” Jordan says. “We meet in here to plan. I’ll spread the word.”

  After she leaves, I take a shower so I don’t have to talk to anyone else. I’m talked out, and all I can think about is Kyle and how I’ve betrayed him without even knowing it. The sick feeling I’ve been carrying around since dinner returns with a vengeance.

  When lights-out comes at ten, I lie awake dwelling on everything I could have done differently the past two months. Maybe the past nineteen years. Would any of them have made a difference? The camp taught us things no normal person would know, but it also purposely kept us naïve. Trust no one, they taught us, except for them. And trust them unquestionably.

  Why didn’t I ever question more? In retrospect, it seems like the logical thing to do. But I wanted so badly to do well that I let them blind me.

  They claim our human emotions make us weak. They’re right. They made us controllable, and the idiots who run this place never appreciated that.

  At 1:14 a.m., Jordan climbs out of bed and pads to the door in her bare feet. No one else stirs. Once the door shuts, Summer follows, just as silently.

  When I get out of bed, the clock reads 1:15. My heart pounds so loud I’m surprised I don’t wake the others. I move quickly down the corridor, avoiding the squeaky spot in the center of the floor, and slip into the bathroom. I have to blink a couple times for my eyes to adjust to the light. “What are you doing?”

  Summer squats on the row of sinks, unscrewing a vent cover. “It connects the little girls’ room to the little boys’ room.”

  Right. After lights-out, the doors between our halves of the building are locked, and we need to meet somehow. Talking through the wall would be too noisy.

  As Summer passes the vent cover down to Jordan, the bathroom door opens again and Octavia enters, carrying a folded e-sheet. I freeze, but the others don’t seem surprised. Okay then. I hadn’t expected Octavia to be in on this. Now I wonder who else that I’m not expecting will be on the other side of the vent.

  Not Cole, I warn myself. Cole would be appalled by what I could tell him, but Cole would demand proof. And Jordan’s right—we don’t have time for that.

  I ball my hands into fists, hating myself for betraying yet another friend. Hating Malone for what he’s done to us.

  Summer taps lightly on the inside of the vent. A tap answers. “Here we go then.” She braces her arms and pulls herself up into it. She fits with mere inches to spare around her shoulders, but soon her bare feet disappear. This is why we climb to the guys’ side. Their shoulders are too broad for the opening.

  Jordan gestures for me to go next, so I hop onto the sink. Reaching over my head, I press my palms and forearms into the vent’s smooth walls. My shoulders and triceps whine at me as I use them to heave myself up. Ugh. Too much pizza and beer and not enough weightlifting at RTC. Halfway in, I brace myself on my stomach and stretch out my arms again.

  Pull, wiggle, slide. The vent’s only three feet long, and my arms and head pop out the other end. I slowly lower myself until my hands find the sinks, then worm my way out, trying not to think about how I’m flashing everyone.

  When I jump down from the sink, I finally look around. The boys’ bathroom is the mirror opposite of ours, and there are only two boys in it—Gabe and Lev. My stomach sinks. Even though I knew better than to expect Cole, hope is irrational.

  “Ah, sweet Sophia.” Gabe throws an arm around me. “This has to be your doing.”

  Octavia thrusts her e-sheet out the vent, and I grab it. “What did Jordan tell you?”

  “Nothing,” Lev says. “She just gave the signal that we were going to meet tonight. You okay?”

  I watch Octavia lower herself to the sink. “Yeah, fine. Why?”

  “Jordan said you were feeling sick.”

  Jordan’s head appears at the vent opening. “I had to say something to explain what she was doing in the bathroom so long.”

  “Oh.” I wrap my arms around myself. “Well, it’s not that far off. I was feeling sick. Still am.”

  “About what happened earlier?” Gabe asks.

  Octavia boots up her e-sheet. “What happened earlier?”

  She didn’t follow me after dinner, and didn’t witness me losing it. I grit my teeth in impatience and embarrassment while Gabe fills her in. When he’s done, she looks at me in concern
.

  “It’s nothing. I can explain.”

  Jordan shoos everyone away from me. “She’s got a lot to explain. Listen up.”

  I want to protest—this is a waste of planning time—but going along with the request will be faster. So I give Summer, Octavia, Gabe and Lev the quickest possible rundown of my past several months. Silence follows when I finish. “Hey, don’t everyone speak up at once. It’s not as if we have all the time in the world.”

  “Can you prove it?” Lev asks.

  I rest my head against the wall. “Yes, but not without my backpack.”

  “Who cares about proof,” says Gabe. “You have money. That’s one thing we’ve always needed if we want to do this.”

  “Do this?” Lev says.

  “Escape.”

  There’s another moment of silence as the six of us gauge each other’s faces. Jordan assembled this team. I hope she knew what she was doing.

  Then Octavia grins and begins moving things around on the e-sheet. “Excellent. Escape Planning Phase One begins tonight.”

  “Escape Planning Phase One through the End happens tonight.” I ball my hands into fists. “I didn’t bother to mention that Malone’s going to erase my memories tomorrow, and he’s transferring Kyle in the morning.”

  Summer winces. “Soph, getting him out of here is going to make this way more complicated.”

  “No Kyle, no my money.”

  Octavia runs her hands through her hair. “I don’t think we can come up with something that’s going to work by tomorrow morning. This is crazy. Do you even know what time he’s being transferred?”

  I shake my head, feeling hopelessness wash over me. Tears threaten again. Damn it. I’ve wasted time enough waiting for this meeting.

  “When they’re moving Kyle is easy enough to figure out.” Gabe holds out a hand for the e-sheet. “Give me that.”

  Octavia clutches it tighter. “That information’s going to be locked down.”

  “Low-level security clearance for it. I guarantee.” He wiggles his fingers, and she places the e-sheet in his hand, frowning.

  “You’ll trip an alert if you hack into it,” Summer says.

  Gabe winks. “I don’t need to hack into it. I’m borrowing a low-level clearance. It’s under control.”

  “Borrowing?”

  He coughs into his hand. “I was hanging around this new guard the other week. He was young, interested and had no idea what I was. So I flirted with him long enough to watch his fingers as he typed in his clearance.”

  Jordan smirks. “Sneaky.”

  “I was thinking more like smooth, but I’ll take it. It was definitely one of my finer moments.” He glances up and sees us staring at him. “What? I don’t believe in gender discrimination.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” says Summer. “We already know you’re not discriminating.”

  “Or modest,” Lev adds.

  Gabe flips them both off. “You can thank me for that now. I’m in. Kyle’s set to be transferred at seven. That’s not a lot of time.”

  I swear. “It’s going to have to be enough. But seriously, if you guys don’t feel comfortable risking your neck with this kind of timetable, walk away now. I’d rather take a couple bullets tomorrow than let Malone erase my memories. And I owe it to Kyle to try something. Anything.”

  Gabe takes my hand. “I owe it to you to not let Malone get anywhere near your brain. We’re family. We stick together.”

  “Exactly,” Jordan says.

  Summer nods. Octavia and Lev both adopt grim smiles but signal they’re in.

  I squeeze Gabe’s hand, and my shoulders relax. Despite my protests, I have a much better chance with their help. “All right, then. What do we know about camp security? There are cameras everywhere, locks that require the right clearance to be bypassed, plus active defense systems around the perimeter and the holding cells.”

  “Active defenses now include the AADs,” Lev says. “They got those debugged since you left, Soph.”

  “Great.” AADs, or aerial assault drones, are one of RedZone’s most difficult to evade weapons.

  “All of that can be disabled,” Octavia says. “If I had two months, I could maybe find a way to hack into it undetected, take it over and put it to work for us. Right now, even if I can take it down, they’ll catch me in a second.”

  Summer twirls a strand of hair around her finger. “You need to take it down hard so they can’t get it back online immediately once they catch you. I might have something.” She climbs onto the sink and disappears through the vent.

  “What if we knocked out the power?” I ask. “And the generators?”

  Lev shakes his head. “The minute the system detects unauthorized activity, the whole camp goes into lockdown until it’s neutralized. Take out the power, and we’re all stuck in the dark too.”

  “So even if Summer’s idea works, we’re in lockdown until security gets the system back online.”

  Octavia glowers at her e-sheet. “That’s why my way would be better—no lockdown.”

  I rest my head against the wall. “We don’t have time for your way.”

  “There’s an emergency override.” Jordan motions to Lev. “We got this out of Bondar one day a couple years ago, remember? The problem is the only person who has the key to initiate it is Malone.”

  And the only one here who can get to Malone is me. “I can handle that part. My backpack’s in his office anyway. I have to go.”

  “How will you get in?” Gabe asks.

  “I’ll think of something. He’s curious about my memories.”

  Lev nods. “So while you’re in with Malone, Octavia takes down security and screws up their network with whatever Summer has. We go into lockdown. You override it. But security’s going to have working communication unless we can figure out a way to jam their phone signals.”

  “Distractions will be easier,” Gabe says. “My specialty. With my borrowed clearance I can get us into the supply warehouses. I say we show our appreciation for our time at this place by blowing bits of it up.”

  “Hey!” Summer waves a data stick at me then tosses it. I catch it as she slides onto the sinks. “It’s just a little something I’ve been working on. We’ll have to test it, but I think it’ll do.”

  I hand the stick to Octavia. “What about Kyle? We’ll have to time this right. He’ll be easiest to get to once he’s out of wherever they’re holding him and on the way to the transport.”

  “Everything’s going to have to be timed perfectly,” Jordan says. “And we’ll need wheels to get out the gate.”

  “And a rendezvous point.”

  “And supplies for the getaway.”

  “And antiaircraft missiles.” Gabe rolls his eyes.

  Lev snorts. “Was counting those among the supplies we need.”

  Gabe hits him. “I’m serious. Assuming we get out the front gate, how are we going to ditch the chase team?”

  “The snow might help with that,” Octavia says. “Storm is coming in tomorrow morning. Could start as early as, well, any time.”

  We all look around as if there were windows in here. Or maybe it’s the pressure building. We need some release, some movement. I do anyway. My whole body is buzzing with nervous energy.

  “One more thing.” Jordan turns to me. “Once we start this, it’s going to be us against everyone. Probably not the youngest HYs yet. But, especially once they know it’s us, Fitzpatrick’s going to rally the other six. They’ll be part of the group trying to stop us.”

  She means Cole in particular. What do I do if Cole tries to fight me?

  I curl my toes against the tile floor. “Unless Fitzpatrick and the others suspect our whole unit is in on it.”

  Which would be worse? To fight my friends, or for them to suffer for my rebellion? With every new obstacle
, this plan becomes more overwhelming.

  Summer crosses her arms, her nails digging into her skin. “They might do that too. We won’t know until it happens.”

  “Right,” says Gabe. “So let’s plan the hell out of this and lower the odds of everyone getting shot.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Monday Morning: Present

  We hash out details for the next hour, then part for bed in deathly silence. I need these couple hours of sleep since I barely slept last night, but it’s useless. Sleep can’t be forced, and despite my implants, I can’t shut down my brain that way. Fitzpatrick trained me to handle sleep deprivation, so I’ll be able to perform tomorrow even without much rest. But I won’t be as sharp as I could be.

  Yawning, I peel back the blinds on the window by my bed. The predicted snowstorm is warming up. A few flakes drift by, nothing more than there was this afternoon, but I don’t doubt it’s coming. No matter what happens, this will likely be the last time I see the view.

  I won’t miss it.

  Finally, I crawl under the blanket and watch the shadows dance along the floor when the heat turns on. Jordan and the others have their eyes closed, but I can’t tell if they’re sleeping. Sky and Eva are, though. I’m sorry, I silently tell them. I won’t leave you behind forever.

  Of course, the reason I can’t tell them the plan is because they might want to be left behind. How will I know?

  And what if I run into Cole? And what if Kyle doesn’t trust me and refuses to cooperate? What if the snow makes the roads impassable? Come on—one of us could break our ankles on the morning run and everything would be ruined. Ruined! Then what will happen to Kyle? If he dies, it’s all my fault.

  I pull the pillow over my head. My stomach thrashes about in my gut, drowning the butterflies in repressed vomit.

  The only thing that sucks more than planning is waiting. I spend the next couple hours lying in the dark, imagining long, crazy conversations with Kyle and with Cole. Imagine trying to apologize. There’s too much to apologize for. Besides, even if they both escape with me tomorrow, it’s not like my problems with them will be solved.