by Laura Martin
I ducked back down, my heart in my throat as I took in the mess that was the remains of the Union army in front of me. “These men can’t win,” I said as Elliot scrabbled over to join me. “There’s no way.” To my right, one of the soldiers, the miracle man, was listening intently to another solider, who was informing him that they were down to one or two rounds per man. I looked over at Elliot, eyebrow raised.
“Rounds?” I asked. “That sounds like a lot. Why does the miracle man look so worried?”
“The miracle man?” Elliot asked, then shrugged. “I guess that’s as good a name as any. I should know who that guy is. I remember reading somewhere about a colonel who got shot in the belt buckle. He’s important. I know that much.”
“Rounds?” I prompted again.
Elliot shook his head. “He means everyone only has one or two shots left. That’s not enough.”
“Especially since reinforcements just arrived,” I said, jabbing my thumb behind me. The entire situation looked hopeless, which made no sense since I knew the Confederates didn’t win this battle. I turned back to watch the miracle man as he surveyed his bedraggled troops, his young face pinched with worry. Because I was looking at him, I saw the Butterfly. A Confederate soldier, who I’d assumed was dead, had just rolled over, a revolver already in his hand as he took aim at the man who’d already cheated death once. I lunged to my feet and ran, even though I knew that I’d never make it to the Butterfly in time. Luckily, I didn’t have to. The miracle man was still staring over the wall, lost in thought, when I shoved him hard from behind. We both fell forward as a bullet zinged past our heads, missing us by mere inches. I hit the dirt beside him and rolled, fully expecting a second shot. But a second shot never came. Looking up, I saw Elliot wrestling the Butterfly’s arms behind his back, and then everything went black.
Chapter Nineteen
Elliot
I opened my eyes and immediately looked over to see the same goofy grin on Regan’s face that was on my own. We’d been thrown into a completely unknown simulation, and we’d managed to capture the Butterfly. Granted, it wasn’t the cleanest capture. Regan had literally tackled that guy, but still. Not bad, all things considered. That’s when I noticed that every other partner group was watching us, and my heart sank. Glancing up, I saw frozen images on all three monitors showing the same Butterfly in various degrees of capture. We’d finished last.
“Not bad,” Callaway said, interrupting my thoughts. “Considering this was your first experience working together, I would say it went very well, actually.” Turning back to the rest of the students, he spread out his hands in invitation. “Now, who can tell me the significance of this historical event?” Four hands shot in the air, and I heard Regan mutter something about show-offs under her breath. I shifted uncomfortably. I should have had my hand in the air, but uncertainty kept them both balled into fists on my lap.
I frowned as Callaway pointed at one of the redheaded cousins. “Who is that?” I whispered to Regan.
“Tess,” she said. “I think.”
“The Butterfly’s target was Colonel Chamberlain. He was a thirty-four-year-old teacher who changed the outcome of the Civil War by helping win the Battle of Gettysburg,” said the girl who was probably Tess.
“Very good,” Callaway said. “Anything else to add?”
Her cousin waved her hand in the air and Callaway nodded at her. “Yes, Eliana?”
“Had the Butterfly succeeded and killed Chamberlain, he wouldn’t have led the charge down the hill that tricked the Confederates into surrendering,” said Eliana.
“That guy led a charge?” Regan whispered in my ear. “Was he crazy? He had no ammunition and almost no men left.”
I shrugged and flapped a hand at her to be quiet.
“Correct,” Callaway said. “Without Chamberlain’s bold move to charge, an event you all didn’t have the opportunity to see since all three groups managed to apprehend the Butterfly, the South would have won the war, and slavery would have continued for years to come.”
“So the United States would have been divided into two countries?” Regan asked, and Callaway raised an eyebrow at her until she sighed and raised her hand.
“Yes, Regan?” he said, and Regan repeated her question.
“No,” Callaway said. “By our calculations, the United States would have divided up into multiple territories, similar to Europe today. Can anyone tell me why that would have been disastrous?” Again, everyone’s hand shot into the air except for Regan’s and mine. While she sat there, seemingly oblivious to how embarrassing that was, I hunched down in my seat. First day or no first day, we looked like the partner team of clueless and buffle-brain.
Callaway called on Corban, and I sat forward to listen.
“Because if the United States didn’t exist as one united nation, there wouldn’t have been a country big enough to stop Hitler during World War Two.”
“That is correct,” said Callaway. “Now, this is all speculation and educated guesses, but it is safe to say that Colonel Chamberlain, from his one decision to charge instead of retreat, changed the course of history.”
“Can you imagine if he’d decided not to wear his belt that morning?” Regan murmured.
“What?” I said.
“Think about it,” she said. “He survived a direct hit to the stomach because the bullet hit his belt buckle. What if he hadn’t worn his belt? Then everything Professor Callaway just said would have potentially happened. Isn’t it crazy to think that one little thing, like deciding to wear a belt, can change the course of history?”
I nodded, but instead of a belt buckle, I was thinking about a very innocent-looking letter that I’d picked up that had altered the trajectory of my own life. Regan must have been thinking something similar because I saw her bite her lip worriedly. Callaway talked for a while longer, and then hit the play button so we could watch our recap and repercussion track. The screen in front of us lit up, but instead of one recap at a time, all three were on the screen. Watching my classmates react to being thrust into the middle of an active battle reminded me of something, and I raised my hand.
Callaway paused all the screens with the press of one button on his tablet and looked up, eyebrows raised expectantly.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Is this something different about the L and C program too?” I asked, pointing at the screen where Regan and I had been paused mid-dive into the mud.
“Elaborate,” Callaway said, and I shifted uncomfortably.
“Well,” I said, “entering a simulation in danger.”
“That’s correct,” came a low male voice from almost directly behind me, and I about jumped out of my skin as I whirled to see a tall blond boy striding down the aisle between the simulation chairs. He was probably around eighteen, but the most striking thing about him was that he was dripping wet. His white button-up shirt was plastered to his broad shoulders and his boots made a loud squelching noise as he walked. I was so busy gaping at him that I almost didn’t notice the equally soaked blond girl directly behind him until she’d walked past us in a soggy ball gown.
“Ah!” Callaway said. “Sam. Serina. So good of you to join us, although you could have changed first.”
“I wanted to change, but somebody was in an all fire hurry to look at the new recruits,” Serina said, pushing a dripping blond lock of hair out of her eyes to glare at Sam. I looked back and forth between them. Same golden hair. Same blue-green eyes. Same high cheekbones. They were either twins, or just freakishly similar.
“There they are,” Callaway said, gesturing toward Regan and me. “Have your look.”
Serina and Sam turned toward us, as did everyone else in the room. This had to be what a fish in a tank felt like, I thought.
“Well, this isn’t awkward at all,” Regan said, breaking the silence. The tension I’d been feeling eased as everyone chuckled. Sam, however, didn’t smile. He was still studying us like we had words written across our forehea
ds, and I found myself rubbing mine before I even realized I was doing it.
“They look young,” Sam finally said, turning his attention back to Callaway.
“They are young,” Callaway agreed with a chuckle. “You are young too, Sam. Don’t forget that.” He turned his attention back to us. “Sam and Serina were our first-ever partner pair and coincidentally the first set of twins to both test positive for the Glitch gene. I discovered them doing simulation training together just for fun and realized that we might have something there. It’s where the idea for this program originated.”
Serina chose that moment to pick up the hem of her dress and wring it out on the floor. Noticing my gaze, she shrugged apologetically. “Titanic mission,” she said. “We weren’t supposed to end up in the water, but somebody got a little overexcited when he spotted the Butterfly cutting the line to one of the life rafts.”
Her brother sidestepped the puddle she’d just made on the floor, giving her a disapproving look before turning his attention back to us.
“So, these two really showed compatibility?” he said in a way that made it clear that he found that highly unlikely. It was then that I realized we were literally leaning away from one another, sitting as far from one another as the simulation chairs would allow.
“This is Cadet Regan Fitz and Cadet Elliot Mason, and since you started answering Elliot’s question, maybe you’d like to finish it as well?” Callaway said with a jerk of his head toward the simulation screens.
“Right,” Sam said, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned to us. “The Mayhem has gotten more and more unpredictable, sometimes launching attacks with the intention of transforming history in less than a minute or two. That means we’ve had to adjust our strategy. Unlike a normal Glitcher, we don’t have the luxury of time or preparation.” My face must have reflected the confusion that I felt, because Serina rolled her eyes at her brother and smiled at us.
“Think of it this way,” she said. “If a traditional Glitcher is a doctor, or a surgeon even, going into historical events with ample preparation to operate and remove the Butterfly with perfectly executed precision, then the L and C program is the equivalent of a first responder. We are training you to be thrust into situations where thinking on your feet is not only imperative, but life or death.”
“That’s awesome,” Regan said. I wanted to tell her that there was nothing awesome about this, but Callaway had restarted the recap screens, and we all watched each other’s recaps in silence. Sam, I noted, never took his eyes off ours, which was unfortunate since it was by far the sloppiest of the lot. While the other partners worked together like a seamless team, Regan and I bumbled along like we’d never done a simulation before in our lives. The whole experience made my skin crawl, and I flashed back to Regan talking about how uncomfortable watching recaps made her feel. I’d thought she was crazy. I didn’t think that anymore.
Finally, the recaps ended, and we were dismissed. I sat back, waiting for the techs to come out to unhook us from the equipment, but after a few seconds, I realized that was different here too. In front of us, Corban and Blake were already unhooked, while Eliana and Tess finished taking off the last of their probes.
“Well, that’s different,” Regan muttered as she started pulling off her own probes and sticking them back on the sensor plate in front of us.
“I think a lot of things here are going to be different,” I said as I hurried to follow suit. Callaway appeared at our side as we unhooked the last of the sensors and handed us each a piece of paper with a neatly printed schedule on it.
“This seems kind of pointless since our group is so small that everyone sticks together,” he said. “But it’s always nice to know where you’re going next. You’ll find all the details about the order of our day here, and as you probably already figured out, you two will be doing all of your classes together. Studying together, practicing together, training together, eating together, you get the idea.”
I glanced down at the schedule. The day was going to go very much like a day at the Academy, with combat training, classes on history, costuming, and disguise, a class that appeared to be similar to the nuance and observation class, and so on. The only difference was that I was going to be doing all of this tethered to Regan.
As I followed her out of the simulation section, I thought again of Colonel Chamberlain. If one man could change history so completely, then the least I could do was try to keep that history intact. To do that, I was going to have to start getting along with Regan Fitz.
Chapter Twenty
Regan
I loved everything about the Lewis and Clark program. I loved the simulation setup that didn’t require months of study. I loved the small classes where I was just Regan, not Cadet Fitz. I loved the fact that I was inside a mountain. I was so giddy about it all that I even felt a burst of affection for Elliot. This change was going to be good. I could just feel it.
I was still riding that wave of positivity when the last class of the day ended and we were dismissed to our new dorms for the night. I sighed as I watched Elliot disappear through the doorway that led to the boys’ dormitory, making a mental note to tell him that it was easier to make friends when your face didn’t look like you’d been sucking on a lemon.
“He pretty much hates you, doesn’t he?” came a voice at my elbow, and I jumped and turned to see Serina standing next to me. She was dry now, her blond hair twisted up into a bun on top of her head. I’d been surprised to learn that she and Sam were permanent residents of the mountain and would continue training alongside us when they weren’t being sent on missions.
“Hate seems like a strong word,” I said. Serina waited for me to go on, and I shrugged. “I’m not saying it’s not accurate. It’s just strong.”
She nodded and cocked her head to the side with a smile. “Welcome to the program. As you saw today, there isn’t a lot of time for chitchat or introductions.”
“I caught that,” I said, thinking of the crammed day I’d just had. As though thinking about it made it real, I suddenly felt the bone-deep exhaustion of the day and yawned. Serina smiled and opened the door to the girls’ dorm so I could walk through.
I was expecting something similar to the dorms back at the Academy, small no-nonsense rooms equipped with a bed, dresser, and desk, but these couldn’t be more different. The first thing I noticed were the bunks on the wall right across from the door. There were ten total, little cubbies carved out of the very rock of the mountain to make bunk beds of sorts. Each bunk had a curtain to give its occupant some sense of privacy. Only three of the ten available bunks were occupied with actual bedding, though. The rest were just rectangular cutouts in the wall with bare mattresses.
“Do I get to pick?” I asked Serina, walking over to get a better look.
“Nope,” she said. “You get the bunk where they chuck your stuff.” I took a step back and noticed that my bag had indeed been chucked into one of the top bunks. Using the notches carved into the stone between each bunk, I climbed up and into what was apparently my new bed for the foreseeable future. To be honest, I was a little leery of the whole setup. For one thing, I’d never slept in a twin-sized bed before, and the thought of falling out and dropping the six feet to the stone floor didn’t seem all that appealing. Once I actually got in there, though, it was deeper than I’d expected. Carved into the back wall of the bunk was a set of shelves for books or personal items and even an antique-looking brass light that reminded me of something you’d see in a mine or a ship. I gave its knob a twist, and it came to life, bathing the cubby in a warm yellow glow.
“Not bad, right?” came a voice, and I jumped and cracked my head hard on the stone ceiling. I bit my tongue to keep from saying something I shouldn’t and turned to see Serina watching me, her arms propped lazily on the mattress as she stood on the bunk below mine.
“Not bad at all,” I said, grimacing as I rubbed at my throbbing head. “The low ceilings may take some getting used to, th
ough.”
“Tall girl problem,” she said. “You’ll get used to it.”
She grabbed something from the end of the bed and tossed it to me, and I discovered that they were sheets. As she helped me tug them over the corners of the mattress, I shot her a look out of the corner of my eye. “I’m kind of surprised you sleep in here with us,” I said.
“It’s another quirk about the mountain,” she said as she adjusted the blanket on the end of the bed. “The Academy keeps everyone so divided they barely know one another, but we work more like a team here. That’s one of the reasons that Sam is a little intense about every new recruit. We’ve proven that partner Glitching can be successful, but one bad screwup and the entire program could be dissolved.”
“He’s more than a little intense,” I said.
She shrugged. “We have our entire careers invested in the Lewis and Clark program being a success. He’ll calm down once he gets used to you guys. He was the same way when Tess and Eliana got here a few months ago.”
“Well,” I said thinking of Elliot and Sam in the dorm across the hall, “I’m glad you are a tad more chill.”
Serina laughed. “I like the company. When it was just me and Sam it got really lonely.” She handed me the rest of my books and belongings, and I quickly stacked them on the shelf.
“Now what?” I asked once that was accomplished.
“Now you grab a shower and go to bed so we can do it all over again tomorrow,” Serina said. I noticed that Tess and Eliana had already disappeared through the door to the bathroom, and I was thankful for Serina, who patiently showed me where to find towels and shampoo and everything else that had always been provided for me without question or hassle at home. As I crawled into my scratchy sheets later that night, I smiled. Scratchy sheets or no scratchy sheets, this was exactly the fresh start I’d been hoping for, and for a moment I forgot about the Cocoon and the ominous shadow it had cast over everything. I forgot about the seemingly random bullet points that seemed to be marching Elliot and me toward something huge, and I fell asleep excited to see what tomorrow would bring.