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The Program

Page 29

by Suzanne Young


  “I have to go to Realm’s house,” I tell James quickly, moving to snap on my seat belt.

  He tenses. “Why? I didn’t kiss you good enough?”

  “Hey!”

  James winces. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. What I mean to say is, do you think he’ll taste me on your lips?”

  “Hey!”

  James closes his eyes, then looks at me apologetically. “I’m not normally a jealous guy, I swear,” he offers as explanation. “At least as far as I can remember. But when it comes to Michael Realm, I might be a little murderous. But just a little.” He pinches his fingers together.

  “I’m not going to Realm’s house to hook up. He needs to see me, James. He might be in trouble for helping me.”

  “A real nice guy to drag you into his mess.”

  “He’s my friend. Can you not be a jerk about it?”

  James doesn’t answer at first, just turns over the engine and pulls out into the street. “Fine,” he says, like he doesn’t care either way. “But if he kisses you, I’m going to fight. I’m completely immature like that.”

  “I know.”

  James exhales, checking his rearview to make sure no one is following us. Our time is running out. I’m not sure we can escape The Program. Especially when I know that we couldn’t before.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  MY HEART SKIPS A BEAT WHEN I SEE A BLACK ESCALADE near Realm’s house, the windows tinted too dark to see in. As James parks and turns off the engine, I wonder if I should be scared. What if this is a setup? Would Realm do that to me?

  “I don’t like this, Sloane,” James says, meeting my eyes. “Whose car is that?”

  I shrug, but my hands are starting to shake. “He wouldn’t turn me in,” I say, but I sound like I’m trying to convince myself. “He knows a lot of stuff, and that message . . .” I look down at my lap, my throat beginning to constrict with fear. “It has to be important.”

  James puts his hand over mine. “Let’s just leave. I’ll take care of us.” When I look up, James’s expression is desperate.

  “I know, but—”

  Just then the front door of the house opens, and a woman walks out onto the porch as if she’s been waiting for me. I recognize her immediately, even though she’s not wearing sunglasses this time. She was there the day Realm was released from The Program. The sight of her brings a sick feeling to my stomach, confirming that something is wrong. Where’s Realm?

  “Is she from The Program?” James asks, putting his fingers on the key in the ignition, ready to turn it on.

  “No,” I say. “She picked Realm up from The Program.” The woman puts her hands on her hips as if impatient, and I look at James. “I should talk to her,” I say.

  James groans. “If I see anything strange, I’m getting us out of here. I’ll throw you over my shoulder if I have to.”

  “Like some crazed Neanderthal?”

  “Total caveman.”

  I smile and lean forward to kiss his lips softly, nervously. And then I get out.

  The wind blows my hair around my face as I slowly approach the house, my heart thudding wildly in my chest. I half expect a handler to jump out from the bushes to grab me, inject me with a sedative. I take a nervous glance back at James, who is watching intently from the car.

  “Michael’s not here,” the woman calls as she waits for me to get to the porch. “And he’s not coming back.”

  I take in a startled breath, stopping at the bottom of the steps. “He’s not coming back? My God, is he okay?”

  The woman tilts her head, looking me over. “He’s fine. But like I said, he won’t be back.”

  I look around, devastated that he’d just leave without telling me first. Without saying good-bye. I was just here yesterday. “Who are you?” I ask the woman.

  “I’m Anna, Michael’s sister. I take care of things when he’s away.” She smiles at me then, sizing me up. “He said you were very pretty.”

  I’m staring at her, confused. Upset. “I don’t understand,” I say. “He just sent me a text. Why would he—”

  Anna holds up her hand to stop me. “I sent the text, Sloane. Michael left this morning. But he wanted me to speak with you. He said you’d need him.”

  “I do,” I say. “I’m in trouble, and I need him right now. So call him and tell him to come back!”

  “Sloane,” she says kindly. “There’s a lot you don’t know about Michael, and his reasons for leaving—I promise—were out of his control. But he cares about you. He wants me to help you.”

  Realm always wanted to help me. He was all I had in The Program. He was good. Safe. “How are you going to help me?”

  “There are things that Michael didn’t tell you—things he doesn’t think you could forgive. But he wants you to know that he loves you. That he wants you to be happy.” She pauses and meets my eyes. “But more than anything, he wants you to run.”

  “Run?” Fear streaks down my back. I’m frozen in place, unsure of how to respond.

  Anna looks past me, toward the car. “Is that James?” she asks, nodding toward him.

  “Yeah.” I search my memories, wondering if there will be a hidden clue to what’s going on, but there’s nothing. I’m completely lost.

  “My brother doesn’t like him much.” Anna smiles at this. “But he understands.”

  “Understands? I’m freaking out right now. What’s going on?”

  Anna must hear in my voice that I’m done with the cryptic messages because she sighs, as if dreading this part. “They’ve been monitoring you, Sloane. Texts, phone calls. Midnight drives? They came and saw Michael today, knowing that you were here last night. The minute they left, he called me to come by. Said he was leaving, that he had no choice but to . . . fulfill an obligation, let’s say. But he knew you were in danger, you and James, so he left you some provisions. Even made me promise to give up my car.” She laughs at this, but she doesn’t seem bitter. “My little brother can be fairly convincing when he needs to be. Then again, he’s all I have left. And vice versa.”

  I can understand that she would do this for her brother, knowing that no matter how crazy the request, I would have done anything for Brady. Realm had said that he didn’t have anything outside The Program. I wonder why he never told me he had a sister.

  “Kevin is a friend of ours,” she continues. “And when he got pulled off your case, Michael knew something was up. Obviously he was right. I’m sure you’re aware that there is an Amber Alert out for the two of you right now.” She motions to James.

  “What? No. I . . .” And now I know that I can’t go home. That the flag has been thrown and nothing can be the same again, or at least, the same as it was a few weeks ago. I want to panic, but I’m trying to keep it together. I’m trying to be strong.

  “The epidemic is spreading,” she says. “Michael wants you to go east—says there’s a group there that can help hide you. Kevin will help. He’s been conspiring with your friend Lacey for some time. They know about the rebels.”

  “Rebels? Against The Program?”

  “You don’t have to be part of it. Michael never was. He honestly believed in The Program, maybe even still does a little. But things are changing. He thought that your James might take up the cause. He says he’s quite the troublemaker.”

  We both look back at James then. He’s behind the wheel, the phone to his ear as he argues with whoever is on the other end. His father? It’s clear by the expression on his face that it’s done, the life we had here. When he sees me watching, James’s mouth stops moving and he lowers his phone. He knows they’re looking for us too.

  “You should go,” Anna says. “The car has a few supplies, a little bit of money and directions. Kevin will be waiting with Lacey at the rest stop on the Idaho border. Pick them up and leave the state. Michael will find you,” she says. “When he can, he’ll find you.”

  I stare at her, seeing a small resemblance between her and Realm. I’m about to wonder if I should trust her
when I realize that I don’t have any other options. This is our only hand to play.

  Anna gives me the keys to the car before starting to walk into the house. She pauses suddenly, and turns to me. “Michael wanted me to give you one last thing,” she says. She removes a small plastic bag from her coat pocket and holds it out to me. I take it and peek inside. There is one bright-orange pill.

  “It’s meant to bring back the lost memories,” she says. “Some more quickly than others. Michael got his hands on it when he was in The Program. He’d been saving it for when it was all over.” She swallows hard. “But he wants you to have it instead. He has a warning, though.” Anna takes a step closer to me, her eyes deadly serious. “He said that some things are better left in the past. And true things are destined to repeat themselves.”

  I touch the small pill, wondering if it could have all that power, all the power to make me whole again. “He only gave me one?” I ask, thinking of James.

  “There is only one,” she whispers. “And now it’s yours. Michael is giving you the choice that The Program didn’t. But he was very clear that if you take this pill, you might never forgive him. You might hate him.”

  And suddenly I wonder what secrets Realm has been keeping from me. “I could never hate him,” I say, even though now I’m not so sure.

  “Easy to say when you don’t remember.” She walks away then, pulling open the front door, but stopping to look back at me. “You’ll be the only one who remembers, Sloane, and that in itself could be a curse. I hope you choose wisely. I’d hate to hear that you couldn’t handle it, and terminated.” She presses her lips into a sympathetic smile. “I think that sometimes the only real thing is now.”

  I don’t answer, and watch as she goes inside, leaving me on the darkened porch of my lost friend’s house. I gaze down at the bag, my back to James as I reach inside to take out the pill. I stare at it so long that my vision starts to tunnel—the color just a streak across my mental picture.

  I blink quickly and look at it again, wondering how it would change me—getting my life back. I’d remember Brady’s death—feel that pain all over again. And then there’s the life I had with James. I could take this pill and remember everything, but James still wouldn’t. Can I really handle loving him completely when he’s still so new to accepting us? Or what if we never really loved each other at all? What if Realm was wrong about that?

  I could give James the pill, but what if he finds some horrible truth about Brady or me or his mother? He could realize that there really isn’t anyone to trust. Maybe we all betrayed each other.

  It’s like I hold a lifetime in my fingers. I’d be complete, but at the same time . . . what if I don’t like who I was?

  I look to the sky where the sun has set, leaving the clouds streaked in the same shade of orange as the pill. Realm has given me a gift—a choice. He’s given me his friendship, his love, and in my way, I love him back. But he said I wouldn’t forgive him for the things I’d find lost in my head. Do I believe that? Do I believe him?

  Tears race down my cheeks, and I stare down, one small object so full of information. Life. Loss. Right now, I have what I need. I have James. A way out of here. But this could all be a lie, a hanging string to be pulled, unraveling everything.

  Can I stand knowing what happened to my brother that day? James and I were there, but we hadn’t stopped it. There’s the slash on my wrist. The way my mother looks at me, filled with concern and knowledge. God, what if I was a horrible person? Maybe . . . maybe that’s why I wanted to die. Maybe I was the reason James wanted to die.

  A small whimper escapes my lips as I let the pill drop back into the bag. I want to crush it under the heel of my shoe, but I’m terrified that I’ll change my mind later. So I fold the bag into a small plastic square and stuff it into the back pocket of my jeans. I won’t take it, but I won’t destroy it, either. At least not yet.

  And with that choice, my heart breaks. I’m saying good-bye to who I used to be. Who I can never really be again. The people I once knew are different. Some are changed like me, others are dead. Knowing that can only bring me more pain. More agony.

  I miss Realm, and I’m glad I won’t know what he doesn’t want me to remember. This way, I’ll forever keep him as my friend and hero. There’s nothing wrong with that.

  This is the only choice.

  I straighten my posture as I glance down the driveway to where James is parked, loving me madly. Loving me for who I am now.

  We’ll meet Lacey and Kevin and sneak away, start over somewhere else. We’ll leave our parents, our lives. But most of all, we’ll leave the reach of The Program.

  And as I walk back to the car, the pill safely tucked away in my pocket, I think that maybe Realm is wrong. That James isn’t the only troublemaker, the only one willing to take up the cause. He’s not the only one who wants to fight.

  So with that thought, I begin again—thinking to myself that sometimes . . . the only real thing is now.

  EPILOGUE—TWO WEEKS LATER

  AT THE DOOR OF THE LEISURE ROOM, THE GIRL pauses. Her body hums from the latest round of medication and she looks wearily at the handler near the door. The Roseburg facility is crowded and loud, and the girl swallows hard and turns to the nurse next to her.

  “I want to stay in my room,” she mumbles.

  Nurse Kell smiles, her face filled with compassion as she brushes the girl’s strawberry-blond hair off her shoulder. “Why don’t you try and make friends, Allison? It’s good for your recovery.”

  Ally scoffs. “What’s good for my recovery is going home!” Her voice is loud, and several patients and handlers look over. Ally notices a guy at the table, a pretzel stick dangling from his lips like a cigar, staring at her.

  “William,” Nurse Kell says softly. “I think I may need assistance.” Her voice is curt, and when Ally notices that she’s motioned to the handler, she backs away.

  “No,” Ally says quickly. “I’m sorry. I—”

  “There you are, sweetness,” a voice says. Ally turns around just as the guy takes the pretzel from his mouth, looping his arm in hers. “I thought we were playing cards today?” He widens his eyes as if telling her to go along with it. Ally shoots a look at Nurse Kell, and then the guy next to her clears his throat. He glares daggers at the handler, and William backs away, raising his hands almost apologetically.

  “Right,” Ally says, nodding quickly, tightening her grip on the guy’s arm. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “It’s okay.” He grins. “But now you owe me.” He nods at the nurse and she rolls her eyes at him, as if he’s always doing things like this. Then the guy pulls Ally toward the table where two others sit, holding cards.

  “Aw, come on!” one of the boys yells, slapping down his hand. “You’re always trying to bring in girls, Realm.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he responds. “But look how nice this one looks.” He turns and winks at Ally, pulling out a chair for her. She sits down, her heart racing at the thought of being thrown into isolation again. She wants to go home, but there doesn’t seem to be a way. This guy, though. He seems to have it figured out. He’s probably a good person to know in here.

  Ally looks him over then. His hair is bleached blond, washing out his pale skin just a little. His eyes are a deep brown and very kind. He’s cute—not that she should really notice in a place like this. And on his neck she sees a jagged pink scar, healed, but still dramatic. She feels a pang of sympathy for him.

  “What’s the game?” she asks quietly.

  “Bullshit,” Realm answers. “You know it?”

  “No.” Ally shakes her head.

  “Hmm . . .” He looks around at the guys. “How about Asshole?”

  Ally smiles, remembering how she’d taught her best friend’s little sister to play last summer. The summer before her best friend killed herself. “Yeah,” she says, lowering her head. “I know that one pretty well.”

  “Realm!” A voice cuts through the leisure room, an
d Ally looks up, startled, to see a girl walking toward them. Her hair is a bright orange, and she seems unsteady. Ally wonders how much medication she’s on.

  “Hello, Tabby,” Realm mumbles.

  “You said I could play!” The girl’s voice is angry, and then she notices Ally sitting there. “How come she’s here?”

  “Sorry,” Realm says, touching Tabitha’s arm. “Table’s full. Next time, okay?”

  Ally considers leaving, feeling bad for shutting out this girl who clearly needs the game more than she does. When she goes to stand, she feels Realm’s hand touch hers. “Stay,” he says. His steady eyes meet hers, and she sits back down.

  After the other girl is gone, Ally gnaws on her lip, feeling bad. “It’s okay,” Realm says, as if reading her thoughts. “Tabby always asks to play, but we don’t let her. She won’t mess with you, though. In fact, tomorrow she’ll be here asking all over again.” He lowers his voice, leaning his head toward hers. “QuikDeath,” he whispers. “It gave her short-term memory loss.”

  “Oh.” Ally fidgets uncomfortably as Realm shuffles the cards, introducing her to Shep and Derek—saying they’ve been here two weeks and will be out in four. Same with Realm. But they look comfortable with each other, as if they’ve done this a million times.

  Outside, a storm is blowing wind and rain against the windows, sounding as if the world around her is washing away. Ally has felt this way before, just today, even. Dr. Warren told her she was being difficult, that measures would have to be taken if she didn’t start cooperating. But now, watching these boys play with a sort of calmness, normalness to them, Ally wonders if maybe she can make it. If she can beat The Program.

  “Your play, Sloane,” Realm says, putting another pretzel between his lips.

  “Ally.” She looks sideways at him. “My name is Allison.” She notices the pained look that crosses Realm’s features, breaking his controlled expression. But then he looks at her, all smiles again.

 

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