by Pintip Dunn
His lips tease mine, softly at first. Hesitantly. As though he’s not at all certain his kiss is welcome. His mouth lingers, waiting for permission, and I feel the sweet ache all the way to my toes.
I kiss him back. I’m not entirely sure how this is done, but I move my mouth against his. I run my hands up his back, over his neck, and into his soft, silky hair. Am I doing this right? Does he like what I’m doing? Does he feel what I feel—
Oh. Dear. Fates. He’s kissing me more assuredly now, and I didn’t know. I didn’t know it could be like this. He tastes like fresh mint. I’m flying down a ramp. My head’s spinning in the air. I don’t know which way is up.
This. The word lights up in my head, explodes at each of my nerve endings. This kiss. I’ve never felt anything like it. Every inch of my body is on fire. My heart’s about to punch a hole through my chest.
A few minutes ago, I lived out the vision like it was the real thing. But it wasn’t, and that makes all the difference in the world.
He eases me slowly onto my back. I feel the metal slats underneath me, separated by quarter-inch gaps. The air is tinged with moisture, on the verge of rain, and activity rumbles, long and low, far below us.
He shifts on top of me, and his weight is solid and welcome. The planes of his body press into me. Hard muscles. Soft clothes. Bristly jaw. So many textures. So unfamiliar, and yet so…overwhelming. Devastating. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to sit up again.
Tanner Callahan thinks he’s good at everything. Well, in this case, he is certainly, most definitely right.
And then, an alarm blares. I jerk in his arms. The sound is so loud and deafening that the platform turns inside out, upside down. I grab my ears and feel the noise deep in my bones.
“What. Is. That?” I shout to Tanner, but he can’t hear me. I can’t even hear myself. “Are we being invaded?”
He moves my hand and speaks directly into my ear. Or at least I think he does. I still can’t hear anything other than the ear-splitting siren. And yet, he must have spoken, because the words appear in my head like a thought.
The alarm is from ComA. They have a big announcement.
And I know, from the grip of Tanner’s fingers, that the announcement can’t be good.
20
We descend the chain ladder as quickly as possible, given Tanner’s phobia, and head to Mikey’s house. My mom and I have made a deal to meet at the Russells’ in case of an emergency. When Tanner and I arrive, she’s already there, wearing an old sweatshirt of my dad’s. Once upon a time, the sweatshirt might have been cozy and soft. Now, it is tattered, worn—sad, even. Kind of like our family.
Mikey and Ryder stand in front of the holo-screen, feet tapping, clearly impatient for ComA’s big announcement.
I haven’t seen my friend for a week, and I rush forward to give him a hug. But he only squeezes me briefly before looking over my shoulder at Tanner.
“What’s he doing here?” he asks sharply.
“Tanner was making sure I got home okay from TechRA. And then the alarm sounded, so we came here.” All right, so I might’ve skipped a few steps. A few touches and one really big kiss. If we’d been by ourselves, Ryder might have been able to pry it out of me. He is my best friend, after all. But we’re not alone.
Angela rushes into the room, cradling a screaming Remi to her chest. “The alarm woke her up, and she won’t stop crying. I tried to nurse her, but she was so upset, she wouldn’t latch on.”
As if understanding her words, Remi wails even louder, her little face turning bright red.
“Here.” I reach for the baby. “Let me try to calm her down.”
Angela hesitates a moment and then hands me her daughter.
Mimicking Angela’s position, I slide one hand under Remi’s bottom and the other behind her head, settling her against my shoulder. In the last six months, I’ve played countless games with her. Peekaboo, pat-an-assembly-cake, this little piggy went to the spaceship. But this is the first time I’ve tried to soothe her. Comforting a baby is strictly a mother’s territory, but I’m hoping I can reach into her future and figure out what’s wrong.
She squirms against me, finding my collarbone and gnawing. I suck in a breath. It doesn’t hurt. Remi still has just gums instead of teeth. But this…this…tiny person is depending on me. I look down and count her eyelashes, each one black and thick but so small, so perfect. I’ve always adored Remi, but in that moment, I free-fall into love. Complete, boundless, gravity-free love.
Her cries slow, and then they stop altogether.
Shocked, my hands hiccup, and I almost drop her. “What happened? Is she okay?”
Angela brushes a finger through the fine down of Remi’s hair. “Of course. You just made her feel safe enough to fall asleep.”
I blink. “She’s asleep? Already? But I haven’t even reached into her future yet.”
“She was just scared. All she needed was a little comfort and a lot of love.”
Tentatively, I move my hand from Remi’s head and stroke her back. A feeling flashes across me for one searing instant. I love you, dear heart. I will always protect you. I will go to the ends of time to keep you safe. Just as quickly, the feeling disappears.
My mouth dries. My legs feel shaky, like I’ve just stepped off a simulation coaster. What was that? Is that how Angela feels all the time? The emotion is so intense, the love so consuming. How can she get anything else done?
I peek at my mom, hugging herself through her sweatshirt. Did she ever feel that way about me? Did Callie?
If so, then maybe I’m beginning to understand why my sister acted the way she did.
Before I can reflect further, the walls start flashing. Finally.
I pass the sleeping baby to Angela, careful not to wake her. She lays Remi in a portable crib, and the six of us drift in front of the screen.
It flickers, and then Chairwoman Dresden appears on the feed, standing at a podium in a public square, a crowd of people surrounding her. I can see the flyaway strands of her silver hair, the wrinkles that mar her chiseled cheekbones. She looks so lifelike she might as well be in our living area.
“Citizens of North Amerie,” she begins, her voice low, controlled, and deceptively warm. “As you know, for the last decade, our world has been plagued by a crisis: our inability to invent future memory. We know this technology exists, because a lucky few of us still retain our memories from the future. Yet its discovery has proven elusive over the years.
“From the beginning, we knew that we were racing against time. With our worldwide partners in science, we have been working tirelessly to bring future memories back to our people. As a nation, we’ve fallen behind. While our competitors are forging ahead, we’re wasting time reevaluating our loan structures, relearning our hiring policies, readjusting to a world where the future is not a guarantee. And with every day that passes, more memories fade. The recipients become foggier and more confused. Even those who seek to circumvent this loss by storing their memories in digital files have run into problems. The data gets corrupted or is ‘accidentally’ deleted. We in the administrative offices have seen this happen time and time again, and there are those who fear that if we don’t discover this technology soon, future memory will disappear from our world altogether, and we will never catch up to our competitors.”
She stops. Even though I know the pause is deliberate, even though she’s obviously trying to heighten the suspense, it works. The hair stands up on my neck, and icicles climb my spine.
“We no longer need to indulge that fear.” Her professional facade wavers, and for just a moment, she breaks into a gleeful smile. “Today, I am here to tell you that we have solved one of society’s greatest ills. We will reinvigorate the allied nations of the world. We have discovered how to send memories back to the past. We have invented future memory!”
She raises her arms in a V of triumph, and thunderous applause fills the feed. Stomping, yelling, even crying. The noise wakes up Remi, and she adds her howls to
the din.
My knees go weak. I collapse on the pressure-sensitive floor, sending streaks of red radiating from the impact. I can’t believe this. I knew this day was coming—we all did—but I didn’t think it would arrive so soon. I’d hoped it wouldn’t happen in my lifetime.
I gulp at the air, but it leaks from my lungs as quickly as I fill it. My mother makes a small sound, and I meet her eyes. I don’t even need telepathy to know what she’s thinking. Was Callie’s sacrifice for nothing? Are we right back where we started?
“It will take time to get the infrastructure of future memory back into place,” the chairwoman continues. “Luckily, many of the old protocols remain intact. Files that disappeared have miraculously reappeared. We aim to start facilitating the systematic receipt of future memory in two months’ time.”
She steeples her fingers, the image of serenity and control once again. “The time line is aggressive, but I will personally ensure that ComA puts forth every available resource to resurrect the Future Memory Agency. We are just as invested as you to return to a society that is efficient and productive, one that does not waste time on insecurities and what-ifs. We are just as eager to once again become a society where tomorrow is a given and today is worry-free!”
Once again, cheers break out. The chairwoman inclines her head and smiles as though she alone were responsible for the invention.
The feed shuts off. I look around the room. Ryder looks like he’s spent too many hours fiddling with his machines. Tanner watches me intently. And Mikey. The leader of our community has paled to the color of a raw onion and teeters on his feet.
This was his life’s goal. The entire reason the Underground came back to civilization. Mikey might’ve studied prosthetic limbs in his work for ComA, but his true purpose is to stop Dresden from achieving her vision of genocide. And the first step in stopping Dresden was preventing the invention of future memory. But now that it’s happened, what do we do next?
I don’t know how long we stand there, staring at each other. But then, a rock crashes through the window. I jump. Shards of glass sprinkle the floor like diamonds, and Angela picks up Remi and runs out of the room. My mother follows, presumably to help her find a secure spot for the baby. If there’s anything secure in this world anymore.
Mikey picks up the flat rock and turns it over.
I gasp. A sewer rat is tied to the rock, a knife plunged into its round belly, drops of blood decorating its filthy gray fur. Three simple words march across the top of the rock.
Down with scientists.
“They blame me,” Mikey says, his voice hollow. “I was supposed to protect them from this fate. I failed.”
He walks to the window. I realize all of a sudden that the once peaceful night is now filled with shouts and people, chaos and anger.
Mikey rounds on Tanner. “You aren’t safe here in the compound. The people are angry with me, but I’m one of them. You’re the enemy. If they find you here…”
“They already know he’s here,” I whisper, thinking about the glares from the passersby. The insults flung from the guy who heckled me. “They saw his white lab coat this afternoon when we entered the compound.”
“You have to go, then.” Mikey strides to an inside wall and slams his palm against the corner. The wall slides open, revealing the secret tunnel inside. Ryder and I have played in these tunnels for years, but I’ve never actually used one. Not for real. “Get him out of here, Jessa. Ryder and I will talk to the people. Settle them down before they do something they regret.”
Footsteps stampede up the front porch, and heavy fists batter the doors. More glass breaks. Another rock lands in the middle of the floor.
“Go,” Mikey whispers harshly. “I’ll take care of this, but you need to leave. Both of you. You’re associated with him now, Jessa. They’ll think you’re a traitor for cavorting with the enemy. I’m a scientist, too, but I’ve been their leader for longer. They’ll give me a chance to explain myself before they attack. They won’t be as forgiving if they find you.”
Panic climbs my throat. Is he right? Am I one of them? A vision sprints across my mind. The one where my blobby handprint marks me as the chairwoman’s assistant.
No. I will never be on her side. Never.
“I don’t understand,” I say weakly. “These are our friends—our community. They wouldn’t hurt me.”
Something crosses his eyes, something dark and ugly that suggests he’s been here before. “Trust me, Jessa, you’ve never seen anything like a mob-fueled rage. These people have lost their minds to a riot. We have no idea what they’ll do or not do. Go!”
We don’t wait any longer. I grab Tanner’s hand. We duck into the tunnel. And we run.
21
The tunnel leads to a metal pipe. We crawl along the cramped space on our hands and knees. A few inches of water, sludge, and who knows what else line the bottom, and the flashlight I attached to my forehead—one of the supplies we found at the mouth of the tunnel—cuts a swath in the darkness. Not that it matters. All I see is more tube, more water, and more sludge.
My arms ache, and my back hurts. With every forward motion, my palms sink into something wet and squishy, and the smell is almost unbearable. But I keep going. I keep crawling. If Mikey’s right, Tanner and I do not want to be caught on the compound.
Above us, the ground rumbles, as though hundreds of feet are pounding across it. That doesn’t make sense. We have only about fifty people living inside the compound. But people from outside Harmony must be joining the riot. Other Underground members and sympathizers. It’s like a massive army is gathering. The thought makes me sway on my hands and knees. The Underground army. Mikey’s army. I always feared that one day the Underground and ComA would declare war against each other. I guess that day’s nearer than I thought.
“Jessa, you okay?” Tanner’s voice echoes in the tube, and his hand closes briefly over my ankle. My skin is dirty, his fingers are probably dirtier, but the touch warms my heart and is enough to get me moving again.
“Only a little while longer,” I say, sidestepping his question.
“Really? You can tell how far we’ve crawled?”
“No clue,” I admit. “I was just trying to be encouraging.”
He snorts, his fingers grazing my ankle again. A glow descends on me, dim and diffuse in the dark tunnel, but so warm that even the sludge and filth can’t mar it. I could crawl forever, if he would touch me every few feet.
And then my hand slides out from beneath me, and my chest plops into the sludge, splattering drops all over my face.
Ew. I grit my teeth, wiping my face as best as I can.
You can do this, Jessa. You have no choice. With reserves I didn’t know I had, I propel myself forward, knee after painstaking knee, until we reach an open crawl space.
A grate crosses over our heads, and the moon shines down on us. I switch off my flashlight, in case there’s anyone outside the grate, and Tanner and I sag against the wall.
“Here.” He lifts his shirt, flipping it inside out, and wets it with some water from his canteen—another piece of equipment we found in the tunnel. Cupping my chin, he carefully wipes my forehead, cheeks, and mouth.
His fingers accidentally brush against my lips, and we both go perfectly still. For a moment, all I can hear is the sound of ragged breathing. Mine or his, I can’t tell. My heart pounds so hard I think it might break open my chest, and my whole world narrows down to his mouth inches away from mine.
The moment seems to stretch into eternity.
And then, he drops his shirt and backs away. “You look atrocious. And to think I kissed those lips before the siren interrupted us.”
I flush. “You didn’t seem to be putting up too much of a fight.”
Even in the dim light, I can see his eyes watching me as if I’m just another specimen under his microscope. “You saw us kiss in the future. I wasn’t about to defy Fate for something as meaningless as a kiss.”
I blink
. And blink again. He’d said almost the same thing right before he lowered his lips. But at the moment, I didn’t think he actually meant it. “That was the only reason you kissed me?” I ask in a low voice. “Because you didn’t want to send out ripples that would change our universe?”
He shrugs. “You never know how one small action might change the course of our future. If we hadn’t kissed, who knows what state the world would be in now?”
“You can’t seriously believe that.”
“The future is a funny thing, Jessa,” he says. “I saw exactly what your sister’s action did to our universe. Let’s just say I don’t like messing with Fate without a good reason.”
I rock back on my heels, my mind whirling. Everything he’s saying is perfectly reasonable. If I’d stopped to think about it, I would’ve come to the same conclusion. And yet, and yet…I can’t get over what he’s ultimately implying. That he didn’t want to kiss me.
He didn’t want to kiss me.
When, in that moment, I felt like that was all I ever wanted.
Heat floods my body, followed by an icy flash of cold right to my core. It’s stupid to feel hurt. It might even reach the level of moronic. Never once has he said he’s interested in me. Quite the opposite, in fact. And if I’m dumb enough to have developed some sort of…feeling…for him, then that’s my own damn fault.
I puff out a breath, annoyed at myself. I will not be that girl, I think fiercely. The one who’s going to worry about a boy when there’s a mob after us. I won’t.
Gritting my teeth, I deliberately tilt my head toward the grate. It’s quiet. No screams or shouts from outside. No rushing feet. Either the riot’s died down or the people are all distracted elsewhere.
“We’ll know once we’ve crossed under the walls of the compound because the pipe opens onto a river,” I say, struggling to sound casual. As if the guy across from me didn’t just reject me. “I’m guessing we’re under the woods just south of the residences.”
“Can we get out and walk?” he says, his even tone betraying no awareness of what he just did. Jerk.