Free to Fall

by Lauren Miller

  So it was with the voice, I realized. It, like the wind, could not be predicted or contained. I held on to these words, letting them repeat like a refrain as I steadied my breaths. I couldn’t control who the voice would speak to, or even when it would choose to speak to me. All I could do was decide to listen each time it did.

  Peace took ahold of my heart as I sat there, its presence filling me with the certainty that there was purpose in our plan and confidence that we would carry it through. I remembered the words the voice spoke the day I arrived at Theden, the promise I’d forgotten until now. You won’t fail, it had whispered. I waited now for an assurance that nothing bad would happen to us in the process, but none ever came.

  “Rory?” I felt a hand on my shoulder and a gentle shake. Groggy with sleep, I opened my eyes. The light had faded in the living room, the sun a warm amber through the slats in the window shade. My earbuds were still in my ears, but the recording had long since cut off. North was next to me on the couch, a pharmacy bag on his lap. He brushed the hair out of my face. “I thought you were meditating,” he said, then smiled. “Until I heard a snore.”

  I punched him in the arm. “So you got it?”

  North pulled a small vial and a box of needles from the bag. “One dose of intravenous triazolam. It should sedate him within minutes and keep him out for at least eight hours. If all goes according to plan, we could be in Manhattan before he wakes up.”

  I only nodded. If all goes according to plan. That was a big if.

  North glanced at his watch. “It’s almost six,” he told me. “I need to get all my gear to the storage unit before it closes. And you should probably go pack up whatever you want to bring with you and get it back here before you go to Liam’s.” The plan was for me to go to Liam’s dorm room a few minutes before curfew, under the guise of being nervous about initiation. His roommate had flown to Birmingham that morning for his grandmother’s funeral and wouldn’t be back until the following day, so Liam would be alone. Since he no doubt kept his robe hidden, I’d have to somehow convince him to show it to me before I pricked him. We’d talked about waiting until Liam left for the cemetery but decided that leaving him out in the open was too risky, for him and for us. It was safer for everyone if he spent the night in bed. Once I had him tucked in, I’d take his robe and meet North in the cemetery to wait for the text from the Few. North wanted to come with me to Liam’s dorm, but we couldn’t risk someone seeing him, especially not with the restraining order still in effect.

  “Not yet,” I told North, sliding my back down the couch and pulling him on top of me. His body tensed up in surprise. I held him tight against me, arching my back to press against him. He framed my face with his forearms and kissed me, gently at first, then deeper. Hands trembling, I fumbled for the button on his jeans.

  “Whoa,” North said, pulling away from me. I met his gaze and brought my hands back to the button, tugging it loose. “Rory—” he began.

  “We could die tonight,” I said softly.

  “We’re not going to—”

  I cut him off. “And if we do, I don’t want to regret not having done this.” I slid the zipper down and felt a stirring behind the blue plaid fabric of his boxers. He caught my hand in his and held it.

  “Rory,” he said, softer now. “I want this. I want you. So much I can’t even breathe sometimes thinking about it.” He intertwined his fingers with mine. “But not like this. Not because you’re afraid. Fear not, remember?”

  “Fear not,” I whispered, tears pooling in my eyes. North leaned down again to kiss me once more, with so much tenderness, it took my breath away. For a moment time seemed to expand and stand still until I could almost believe that the kiss would never end. My chest ached when he finally pulled away.

  “To be continued,” he said, sitting back on his heels.

  I managed a hint of a smile. North stood and helped me to my feet. “So we’ll meet back here in an hour or so to pack the bike?” I nodded and pressed my lips to his once more before I left. Every kiss felt precious now.

  The sun had dropped behind the trees by the time I made it back to campus. The double doors to the dining hall were propped open and the freezing air carried the sounds and smells of the dinner hour. My stomach growled, but I didn’t have time to eat. I had to pack my things and take them to North’s so he could load his bike, then come back to campus to shower and change before going to Liam’s.

  I blinked and felt tears behind my eyelids. Campus was most beautiful at dusk, just after the globe-shaped streetlamps turned on but before it was completely dark, when the sky was its deepest and richest shade of blue. Even with everything I knew about the people who’d built this place and the egomaniacs who were now running it, I wasn’t ready to leave. I loved it here. The status, the belonging, the sense that I was destined for something great. It was exactly what Dr. Tarsus had said on the recording. Theden had given me a whole new life. A life I didn’t want to lose.

  But then again, in a way I’d already lost it, weeks ago, when I decided to trust the Doubt no matter where it led me.

  The courtyard was empty except for a lone figure sitting on the bench closest to Athenian Hall. As I got closer, I realized it was Liam.

  “Rory,” he said when he saw me, getting to his feet. “Where have you been?”

  “Errands,” I said vaguely. “Downtown. What’s up?”

  “Rudd was looking for you.” Liam’s body was tense, like he was nervous.

  “Mr. Rudman? Why?”

  “He said they’re moving up your initiation.” Liam saw my blank look. “He’s the Divine Third, Rory. The one in the owl mask.”

  Rudd was a member of the Few? Not only that, but the third in command. The “Divine Third.” Just the title made my skin crawl. The arrogance.

  “And Dean Atwater’s the Divine First?” I’d already decided he had to be the man behind the serpent mask. Liam’s nod just confirmed it.

  “He and Rudd and Tarsus are waiting for you in the tomb,” he said, glancing around. But the caution was unnecessary. There wasn’t a soul in sight. Everyone was at dinner. “I was supposed to wait for you here and take you down there.”

  “It’s happening now?” Panic licked at my legs. I’d left the syringe at North’s. It couldn’t be time for initiation. It wasn’t even dark yet.

  “That’s what Rudd said.” Liam looked uncomfortable.

  “Liam. What?”

  “It’s just . . . if they’re initiating you, why didn’t he tell me to bring our robes?”

  Fear shot down my spine. They know.

  “Shit,” I whispered.

  “Rory, what’s going on? What did you do?”

  “I found out some things about the society,” I said carefully. I watched for Liam’s reaction. There wasn’t one. “They’re not who you think they are, Liam. They’re—”

  His arm shot forward to grab my wrist, hard. “There is no ‘they,’ Rory. Not for me.” I snatched my hand back like I’d been stung. He eyed me, his gaze cold and hard now like the stone walls of the tomb, and all at once I understood. To Liam, the Few were “we,” not “they.” They’d promised him a lifetime of acceptance, the assurance that he would always belong, and that was enough for him. “Look,” Liam said then. “If you want to bail, I won’t come after you. But they’re expecting us in the tomb, and I won’t keep them waiting.” He got to his feet.

  For a moment, maybe two, I let myself believe that I might run. To North, to safety, to my future. But my feet stayed planted. I couldn’t run from this. I’d given up that option when I decided to take on the Few. In the distance, the campus bell tower tolled the hour. It was seven o’clock. A full hour before North was expecting me back. He wouldn’t even begin to worry until after eight, and it’d take him another fifteen minutes to get to the cemetery. The realization that I might not see him again made every part of me ache. But if I went back to him now, we’d lose whatever shot we had of getting into that server room. My only option
was to try to stall them.

  For over an hour.

  I can’t do this, the me part of me whimpered. I waited for the voice to tell me I was wrong, but there was only silence.

  Liam had turned and was heading toward the woods. “Wait,” I called. “I’m coming with you.”

  It was only then, after I had made my choice, that the voice finally spoke.

  Fear not, for I am with you.

  “I’m not afraid,” I whispered back, and for a moment it was true.

  33

  THE SKY WAS NEARLY DARK when we reached the center of the cemetery, the last hint of light fading fast from the horizon. The angel’s arm was already reaching toward the sky. They’d left the coffin open for us. The irony didn’t escape me. They’d summoned me to a grave.

  “Why are you doing this?” Liam asked as we stepped inside the mausoleum. How different it looked now, in this moment, with this boy. The marble etchings were menacing, not beautiful, the space claustrophobic, not cozy.

  “They’re the Few,” I said. “What good would it do to run?” I then forced a laugh. “And it’s not like they’re gonna kill me because I don’t want in.” In reality, I was pretty sure that was exactly what they were going to do. From the look on Liam’s face, he had his own suspicions about my fate. I could tell he was conflicted about his role in all this. But clearly not conflicted enough to walk away.

  “I really liked you, Rory.” Liked. Past tense. As if I’d already ceased to exist. He nodded toward the coffin. “You go first. Wait for me at the bottom.”

  “No blindfold?”

  He didn’t meet my gaze. “Rudd said not to bother.”

  I swallowed hard, realizing it didn’t matter if I knew how to get in if I wasn’t ever coming out.

  I held the railing tight as I descended the spiral staircase into the dark room below. Liam was right behind me. He reached under the bottom step and pulled out a short metal rod. It looked like a flashlight, but when he punched the button on its base with his thumb, it ignited into real fire. “The altar room is the third chamber,” Liam said under his breath. “They’ll be in there.”

  He took my elbow and led me through the only door, a narrow archway into the next room. Square, of course, like the one before it, but bigger, and furnished with plush crimson couches and mahogany end tables, all arranged around a thin, woven rug that formed a curve from one archway to the other. A straight diagonal line would’ve been more efficient, but the Few preferred mathematical elegance instead. I knew without seeing the rest of it that the curve would become a golden spiral as it wound its way out toward the tunnel.

  Halfway across, I heard voices in the next room.

  “You should be thanking me.” Rudd.

  “Thanking you.” Dean Atwater.

  “Yes,” Rudd replied, but he sounded less certain than before. “I solved our problem.”

  We’d reached the edge of the archway. Liam paused and looked at me. I held up a finger. One minute. He nodded slightly. I could tell he was as curious as I was.

  “And how, exactly, did you do that?” the dean asked coolly. “Was it by sleeping with a sixteen-year-old girl?”

  Liam’s eyes shot to mine, his eyebrows arched like question marks. I quickly shook my head. Not me.

  “You thought I didn’t know?” the dean asked when Rudd didn’t answer. I hadn’t heard Tarsus speak yet. Was she even in there? My stomach squeezed at the thought that she might not be. She was my only hope.

  “It was an error of judgment on my part,” Rudd said finally, weakly.

  “Indeed. Which is a problem, you see. Because it suggests there was an error of judgment on mine.”

  Incomprehensibly, I felt bad for Rudd. He’d miscalculated this.

  There was a rustling behind one of the couches to my left. But just as I turned my head toward the noise, Liam’s hand gripped my elbow. The dean’s talk of poor judgment had reminded him whose side he was on, I guessed. With a jerk, he pulled me through the arched door.

  “But if it weren’t for my relationship with her, we wouldn’t know about Rory,” Rudd was saying as we stepped into the room. He was defensive now. Pleading his case. All at once I knew who Rudd had been sleeping with. Hershey’s mystery boy wasn’t a boy after all.

  “And what about what she knows?”

  “She doesn’t know anything. Not that it matters anyway. After they commit her—”

  I stumbled a little, and three heads turned toward us. Dr. Tarsus was there after all. Unlike the first two rooms, this one was lit with mounted torches that cast a menacing glow on the three figures in its center. They stood apart from one another, in a triangle, the alliances unclear. Liam seemed unsure of who to approach. He’d gotten his orders from Rudd, but it was obvious who was in charge.

  “Liam,” Rudd said, gesturing for him.

  Liam hesitated then headed for the dean. The old man looked at me, not my escort. “Thank you, Liam,” he said, his eyes on mine. “You can return to your dorm.”

  Liam’s hand was still on my arm, so I felt his surprise. He dropped my elbow like it was hot. “Yes, sir.” Without so much as a glance in my direction, he turned and left.

  The dean was still staring at me. There were only a few feet between us, and his gaze felt hot, like a spotlight. Beads of sweat sprung up on my lips and hairline.

  “Hello, Aurora,” Dean Atwater said. Revulsion ripped through me when he spoke my name. I despised him in that moment, with such intensity that I thought my skin might catch fire. I managed a confused smile.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “That’s what we’d like to know,” the dean replied. His free hand was in his jacket pocket, as if he were holding something there. Something like a gun. The cold sweat at my hairline began to slide down my forehead.

  I gave my head a tiny shake. More confusion. Another smile. I glanced back at Dr. Tarsus. In the flickering light, her ebony irises were inky and opaque and completely inscrutable. “I don’t understand. I thought— Liam told me you’d decided to move up my initiation.”

  “So you’re ready to take your vows then?” the dean asked.

  “Of course,” I said smoothly. “I just have some questions first.”

  The dean looked amused. “You have questions.” He pulled his hand from his pocket. The thing he held looked like a gun, but not like one I’d ever seen before. There was a vial of blue liquid where the barrel would be. “I think you’re confused, Aurora, about who owes who an explanation.” He tightened his grip on the trigger.

  “I’ll answer whatever questions you want,” I said, stalling. “I just want to know what happened to my mom.”

  “From what I understand, your mother died of a blood clot,” Dean Atwater said coolly. “A common complication after a cesarean section.” Fury shot through me.

  “I’ve seen the death certificate,” I shot back, too angry now to be afraid. “I want the truth. Was it nanobots? Did you kill her the same way you killed Griffin?”

  The dean’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Yes, I know about Griffin,” I said, as smoothly as I could. “His death I understand. He was the CEO of Gnosis. You couldn’t let him destroy what the Few had built. But my mom was a high school girl. How was she even a threat?”

  “She wasn’t,” Dean Atwater spat, as cold as ice. “Even if she’d gone public with what she thought she knew, no one would’ve believed her.” His lips twitched into a smile. “Not with her medical history.”

  “So why kill her?”

  He sighed. “Because she was an inconvenience, Aurora. Because she’d gotten in the way.”

  The tears sprung to my eyes without my permission. I tried to blink them back, but it was too late. I knew he’d seen them. I fought to keep my composure. He saw that, too.

  “Yes, it was nanobots that did it,” he said, baiting me now. “They came in through an IV bag, into her veins, making it very difficult to predict how the clot would travel through her body. It was luck, re
ally, that it worked as well as it did.”

  Luck. I wanted to rip his eyeballs out. But I knew it was exactly the reaction he was fishing for. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. I kept my gaze steady.

  He went on. “These days, our solution is more elegant,” he said, raising his gun. “We use straightjackets and padded rooms.”

  A shiver shot down my spine, but I didn’t flinch. “So whatever’s in that dart . . . it’ll make me crazy?”

  “No, your brain will do that all on its own,” Dean Atwater replied with a sick smile. “Once these nanobots reach your temporal lobe and begin their cacophony. Roars. Explosions. Screams. It’ll be the sleep deprivation that ultimately gets you, but we’ll make sure you’re institutionalized long before that.”

  “You’re acting like we’ve already made our decision” came Dr. Tarsus’s voice. I heard the sharp click of her heels on stone then felt her beside me. “It seems to me, Robert, that we ought to give our initiate the benefit of the doubt.”

  “The benefit of the doubt,” the dean repeated. “What exactly is the benefit of doubt, Esperanza? There’s certainly no benefit to the Doubt, which is what we’re really talking about here, isn’t it?”

  “It’s Kyle’s word against hers,” Tarsus replied. She took a step forward so she was a few inches in front of me now. She was standing on her toes, I noticed, like a cat preparing to pounce. “We have no evidence that she’s afflicted.” Afflicted. Like the Doubt was a curse.

  “Are you kidding me?” came Rudd’s voice behind me. “It’s so obvious. I hope neither of you are buying this little act.”

  “It’s not an act,” I said, as convincingly as I could. “I’m not my mother.”

  “Is that so?” said the dean.

  “Don’t be a fool, Robert,” Rudd said derisively.

  The dean’s eyes snapped past me to Rudd. “Leave. Now.”

  “But I—”

  “Now,” he bellowed. Rudd stormed to the door.

  “So you don’t hear it?” the dean asked me when Rudd was gone, his finger tight against the trigger. “You don’t hear the Doubt?”