“Because they found out what a coward I really am. My test to be a donor for DJ came back different than I said.” He takes a deep breath as his eyes lock with mine. “I’m a match.”
Bryan
BRYAN’S FINGERS DIG INTO the steering wheel as he drives past the house for a second time. He’s glad the snow is coming down this hard. No one will question why he’s going so slow. They’ll think he’s being careful, not trying to see in through the front window. The lights are on. There aren’t any cars in the driveway, but someone must be home.
The street is quiet. He looks for signs of someone like his father. Someone who doesn’t wait for several inches of snow to pile up before shoveling. Someone who could jeopardize his anonymity and give him a good excuse to steer the car toward home.
But all the garage doors remain down.
Nothing is going to happen, he tells himself as he fingers the syringe. He’s going to waste a night sitting in this damn car, and that’s totally okay. He’s almost convinced himself of this when his phone buzzes.
He’s inside with Kaylee. I know it. Just wait until he comes out, and offer him a ride. Couldn’t be easier.
Damn. Maybe it will still be okay. Maybe Jack’s wrong or Nate will stay inside. Bryan tightens his hold on the syringe and hopes.
Sydney
SO FAR, SO GOOD.
Sydney finishes typing, hits Enter, then does a quick scroll through the NEED message board. So smart. The whole system is so freakin’ smart. Too bad he wasn’t the one to come up with it. Of course, even if he had dreamed up the idea, he would never have thought it would fly. It’s amazing to him how many people haven’t figured it out. How many still think it’s a game. Maybe he’s the only one who bothers to look at the number of network users. Maybe he’s the only one who’s seen it plateau and then go down.
Amanda.
The first drop had to be due to her. He feels bad for her and her family. Who wouldn’t? But despite that, he can’t help admiring the system that led to her death and whoever conceived it. Dribble out rewards for almost no price. Because, really, sending out invites to a new website and convincing your friends to play ain’t worth jack. At least you wouldn’t think so. And just by sending a few emails you get a reward. Something real. Something that makes you want more. Why wouldn’t you, since you just got something for free? Or so you think. That’s what they want you to think. Only those who are totally brain-dead could believe something so naive. Nothing is free. Not one thing in this life. Sydney’s known that forever. How everyone else missed it is beyond him. And clearly they did miss it, because the ticker for need requests and fulfillments continues to rise.
Smart. Whoever created NEED is crazy smart. And probably flat-out crazy. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.
But Sydney’s smart too, and his crazy only goes so far. He can watch and learn and game the system while pretending to be stupid like the rest of them. He’ll skim what he can from it before it implodes. So far he’s racked up decent cash for his part. Almost enough to get out of this town.
His inbox dings. It’s the message he’s been waiting for. He reads the instructions and nods as he clicks back on to NEED’s main screen.
NETWORK MEMBERS—686
NEEDS PENDING—684
NEEDS FULFILLED—220
Another member has bit the dust.
Sydney unlocks his desk drawer and grabs his grandfather’s hunting knife. Just in case. He slides the knife into his backpack and slings it over his shoulder. With one last glance at the numbers on the screen, Sydney heads out to follow instructions and vaguely wonders if anyone will notice the drop in members. If not, he’s pretty certain they’ll notice the next one.
Kaylee
“YOU’RE A MATCH?” The words are a whisper as I reach out and take Nate’s hand. Part of me needs to make sure he’s real. That this conversation is real.
“I’m not a perfect match. Only five points out of six on the antigen scale,” Nate explains, although the difference doesn’t matter. Six-point matches outside of a family relationship are rare. Five points is as good as DJ is going to get unless Dad turns up, and even then it still might be the best. This is great news.
But it’s not. At least, not to Nate. Suddenly, I get what he’s saying. “You don’t want to save DJ.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not true, Kaylee. You know I do.”
“You’d let DJ die?” I yank my hand to free it from Nate’s grasp, but his fingers bite into my wrist, not letting go.
“No. Kaylee, why do you think I’ve been working so hard to help you find your father? I want DJ to live. I’m just too scared to go through with the operation.” He shakes his head. “When my parents and I read up on the surgery and the risks . . .”
“The risks are minimal,” I say. I’ve studied just about everything that’s been written about the physical effects of donating a kidney. I even talked to last year’s school counselor, Dr. McGoran, because they said there were psychological considerations as well. “You’re healthy and you don’t need both kidneys to live a full life. I can talk to your parents if you want or have DJ’s doctor talk to your parents—they’ll realize you’ll be okay. They might give their consent and—”
“It’s not just them, Kaylee. Although it’s a miracle they care about it at all.” Nate drops my hand and stalks toward the window. “It’s me. I know all the statistics and have read all the research too. But the more I read, the less I wanted to go through with it. I’m not like you. I can’t hear about surgery and pain and possible infections and future complications and say sign me up.”
“Yes, but—”
“It’s not that dangerous,” he says, cutting me off. “It’s done every day. It’s safe and I’d be giving a great gift to your brother. I’ve told myself all of it, and even if my parents gave their okay, I still couldn’t do it.” Nate lets out a bitter laugh. “When you get to the bottom of it, as I told you, I’m a coward. And I hate that I know that about myself and I’m not willing to do what it would take to change it. So, when this government program email promised me something in return for my help, I took them up on it. Instead of asking for money or cars or a trip around the world, I asked them to find a donor for DJ. Is that so wrong?”
Yes.
No.
Yes.
I can’t think. Anger. Sympathy. Hate. Confusion. I try to process it all. But Nate stands there staring at me, as if he’s waiting for the worst. “There’s something else you aren’t telling me, isn’t there?”
“Like what?” The lie is obvious.
“The number you gave me. NEED gave it to you. They gave it to you today.” On the NEED website when a request is made, the site gives you a requirement to fulfill. Once that happens, the site member gets what they asked for and they get it quick. “What did you do for NEED, Nate? What did you do to get them to give you my father’s phone number?”
“I told them you were calling the police to report the site. I’m the reason they shut it down.” I gasp and Nate explains, “I told myself that I needed to do something for them so they’d give me your father’s phone number, but really I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“I was scared you were right.” He walks back to the window. “That they knew about Amanda’s allergy and orchestrated her death. I was worried they might do the same to me or someone I care about because you were calling the cops. And I told myself that if you were wrong, I didn’t want to lose the chance to track down your father. If I wasn’t willing to save DJ myself, I had to find the person who could.”
All reasons I hate because I can understand them. I can see the rationalization for some of the things Nate did, but I’m angry. Angry at his lack of trust. At how foolish I looked this morning talking to Officer Shepens. At the way everyone, including my mother and Dr. Jain, thinks I’m crazy, again. At how his betrayal of me to NEED made my mother doubt me all over again. She’s threatening to authorize a new treatment plan becau
se she thinks I’m mentally unbalanced. All because of him.
“So now what?” Nate demands. “Tell me what I have to do to fix this and I will. I’ll do whatever you want.”
No. He won’t save my brother. He doesn’t love me no matter what he believes. He loves that I need him. But I don’t. Not really. Because despite what I thought, what I counted on, he has never been there for me. There is no safety with him. I’ve always been alone. I just didn’t know how isolated I was until now.
“Get out.”
“Don’t tell me to leave.” Nate moves toward me but stops when I shift out of his reach. “Not with NEED out there doing who knows what. I’ll go downstairs and stay out of your way, or work with you to help shut it down, or maybe we could—”
“Get out!” I throw his phone at him. “Take your promises and your lies and go find someone else to tell them to. How about you call your brother so the two of you can do NEED’s work together? You deserve each other.”
His shoulders hunch and I know I’ve scored a direct hit when he back away.
He reaches the door, stops, and says, “Be careful, Kaylee. Whoever is behind NEED has to be here in Nottawa. And they’re watching us.”
And then he’s gone. I start to tremble as my understanding of Nate’s betrayal deepens. Sinking to the floor, I wrap my arms around my legs. Nate’s gone, and so is everything I believed about our friendship. He lied about being a match and lied to me about the website and lied to cover everything up until he had no choice but to tell the truth.
Love.
Tears fall as that word echoes in my head. Nate said it was all for love. Maybe I don’t understand love because no one who has said they loved me has ever put me first. I’ve always wanted to be loved, but if that’s love I don’t want any part of it. Because it isn’t real. For a while the illusion is enough, but once you see beyond it, the only thing that’s left is pain.
NEED knows this. It gets that under all the smiles and high-fives and laughter in the hallways, when push comes to shove, most people put themselves first. Their wants. Their needs—or what they think they need, anyway. Especially if they think they can hide it.
Good. Let NEED use that. Let NEED punish them all. Turn brother against brother and friend against friend. My brother and mother are gone for now. I’m safe in this house. NEED can do its worst. I don’t care anymore.
Anger burns away the tears. But then, shame slides through me.
Because I do care. No matter how much I think I want payback for everything the people in this town have done to me, I don’t. Not really. If I did, I would be like them. Like all the people who have made me a joke and called me an attention whore. Being like them would be worse than being alone.
I rub my hands over my face and wipe away the tears. Crying is useless. Other people could be dying because NEED is using their fears and their selfishness and their egos against them. Well, two can play that game.
Pushing to my feet, I walk to my desk and take a seat. NEED showed up and infiltrated our lives in a matter of days without almost anyone noticing it was happening. We’re all so used to new things appearing on the Internet every day that we don’t question what’s behind them before welcoming them into our lives. Because they don’t feel real. NEED knows that. It feeds on the belief that what’s on the public forum of the Internet can’t be all that bad. All sorts of things people wouldn’t have the nerve or the heart to do face-to-face show up online, and most of the time people shrug them off because it’s just the Internet. You can ignore them or convince yourself they aren’t real. And since NEED insists on secrecy for both the network and the users, it’s easier for members to pretend nothing bad is happening. Well, they aren’t going to be able to pretend anymore.
I log on to NEED and start taking pictures of the message board with my phone. NEED thrives on anonymity, and members use it to hide from what they have done. Well, I’m going to make it impossible for them to hide. I’m fighting back. Let NEED come after me. I don’t care. Because I’m not going to just break their rules this time. I’m going to shatter them.
Ethan
ETHAN COUGHS and wipes his forehead. The fumes are making his chest burn, but he has to finish. His hands shake as he takes the box out of his bag and opens it. He looks inside at the timer device and the New Year’s Celebration Fireworks Fountain. The faster he gets this celebration ready, the sooner he can leave.
Sweat pours down his face. He tries not to breathe too deeply as he clears a spot on the desk for the big, colorfully wrapped fountain. His dad likes fireworks. Every year their mother freaks and yells and hides behind her hands as they blow off dozens of fountains, rockets, and mortars. None of the fountains they use are this heavy. This thing must burn for at least four minutes, maybe more. Plenty of time to get the party started.
Juggling the flashlight and the timer is tough with his gloves on. He can’t make a mistake. His head pounds. He leans on the desk to keep his balance and knocks something to the ground. Crap. He shines the flashlight to see what it is. A metal and plastic desk nameplate. He’s lucky the metal part didn’t hit anything and strike a spark. Thinking about what could have happened makes his head swim. He can’t stay in here much longer.
Suddenly he doesn’t care about doing things exactly right. Not as long as he stays alive.
Ethan pulls off his gloves and stuffs them in his bag. He picks up the nameplate, then puts the flashlight on the desk next to the timer. Without the bulk of the gloves it’s easier to make sure the timer is set and working. He barely breathes when he places the wick for the fountain on the ignition wire.
He did it. It’s set. Now he has to get out of here.
Ethan grabs his bag and feels his knees buckle as he heads for the office door. It’s not far, he tells himself. Just down the hall. His feet slide on the slick tile. Just a few more steps now until his mission is accomplished. He took too much time on this one. Next time. He’ll do better next time.
“Ethan.”
He turns and shines his beam into the hallway behind him. The floor glistens with gasoline just waiting for the spark that will ignite it.
“Ethan. Please don’t leave me here.”
Hannah’s voice is groggy. It’s hard to tell one word from another the way she slurs them. The gas fumes must be getting to her, too.
Good, he thinks as he pushes the bar on the exit door and walks into the fresh air. He hopes for her sake she’s unconscious when the alarm goes off and the fireworks start. If she hadn’t seen his face he might be able to help her out, since NEED didn’t say she had to die. Actually, the instructions spelled out a way to get this done and let her go. But he can’t, because she brought a flashlight and she saw, which means it’s a choice between Hannah and him. And that’s no choice at all.
Kaylee
I WORK FOR FIFTEEN MINUTES pulling the pictures I think are the most telling about NEED. The only time I stop and let myself feel anything other than anger is when my mother texts to make sure everything is okay at home. I say yes, then lie again and say that Nate sends his best to DJ before turning back to my project. It takes some editing to make sure the photographs are positioned so that people can recognize the image while understanding that it came from the website. Those who aren’t on the website will probably think I’m up to my old attention-seeking tricks. There’s nothing I can do about that.
My fingers hover over the keyboard as I try to decide what to say to accompany the photos. I’m scared of typing the wrong thing. Scared people will ignore me. Scared they won’t. Annoyed that I still worry about what people think. If it weren’t for their belief that they can get something for nothing, NEED would be harmless. It would just sit out there on the World Wide Web—powerless to cause harm. As much as I blame NEED for Amanda’s death and any other disasters it has caused, I blame us. All of us. Because I was gullible and asked for something too. Something I never believed would be delivered, but still I asked. No one gets something for nothing. We all
should know better.
And that’s when I realize I know what I want to say.
Is what you thought you needed worth this?
I hit Post and wait for the photo and caption to appear before loading another photo. This one of a Santa sleigh that’s been beaten to a pulp and what I think used to be light-up reindeer. A broken baseball bat is also in the photo.
What did you think you needed enough to do this?
Another photo—this time of the grave that was dug in my yard.
And this.
Finally, I post the photo of the bloodstained snow.
Red streaked on white.
Bits of fur.
Pieces of flesh that belonged to pets someone loved.
And what could you possibly need enough to do this? Stop doing what NEED asks. Nothing is worth the price we will pay. Nothing is free.
I hit Post. For better or worse I have broken the Terms and Conditions NEED threatened me with. Now what? Waiting to see what people say would be torture, so I click back on the NEED shortcut and start looking for other things that I should document. Some people will ignore or attack what I’ve done, but others will be less selfish. Even if it’s only one or two, I can ask them to talk to Officer Shepens with me. He will have to believe me if there are others who say the same thing. Won’t he?
NETWORK MEMBERS—683
NEEDS PENDING—685
NEEDS FULFILLED—228
Oh God. The network is down more members. Who else is dead? And who killed them? The numbers swirl before me. I blink my vision clear and notice a red exclamation point in the top right corner of my screen. That’s new. I move my cursor so it hovers over the symbol. The message One notification appears. I click on it and feel a scream build inside me.
A KIDNEY HAS BEEN LOCATED AND IS IN THE PROCESS OF BEING PROCURED. YOU CAN REST ASSURED YOUR NEED REQUEST WILL BE FULFILLED.
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