by Sara Wolf
The mharata patrol like jungle cats, moving silently and quickly down the halls. Everyone notices they’ve begun moving faster, reacting quicker, changing posts more often. Sometimes, they even talk to each other in low, rapid Rahm. Raine insists that means they’re narrowing the list of suspects to only a few.
I hate them. I hate the way they move, the way they stare, the way their eyes follow me. But they’re inevitable. I can’t escape them. The tension stacks higher and higher with every passing day. Sometimes I just want to scream at them; ‘it’s me, you idiots, just take me and let’s get it over with!’.
Alisa and Dad call. Dad’s voice breaks with concern.
“Victoria, I’m not going to tell you twice. You’re coming home, who knows what -”
“We need this money, Dad. They don’t pay the people who leave.”
“Victoria, it’s not safe there!”
“There’s security everywhere! They got even more security. And this killer? The police are pretty sure they’re only targeting Gutters.”
“That’s no excuse! You know what these crazy anti-Gutter groups are like!”
“Four more months, Dad! Just four. And we can have the house and I’ll be back home.”
It’s a lie. It’s the best damn lie I’ve ever told.
I’m sure his mind is flashing with every memory he still has of Mom. We need the money bad. After a minute of strained silence he sighs, long and hard.
“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. You absolutely swear to me you’ll use the buddy system? Remember everything I taught you?”
“Every last thing.”
He’s quiet. I can hear his heart pulling in two directions - the greater good and my good.
“I can’t lose you too, Vic.”
“You never will.”
Another lie. And this one cracks my heart like a porcelain, dropped thing.
“Call me every day. No exceptions, or I’m coming to get you.”
“Okay.”
Please come get me. Please take me away from all this.
Shadus looks happy enough - laughing with Nate and smiling when Hailey calls his name or Serena grasps his arm. He strides ahead of me on our way to class. During study hall, his gaze is riveted to his book, and sometimes to me.
“Pass me the eraser?” I ask. He looks up and grabs the teddy bear eraser Dakota lent me. He stares at its face for a moment, wrinkles his nose, and passes it to me. There’s a snarky comment in his eyes, but he doesn’t say it.
“S’not mine,” I clarify. “Dakota gave it to me. I tried really hard to not throw it across the room when I first saw it.”
He doesn’t smile. The textbook has all his attention.
“Are you studying for -”
“Don’t,” He growls.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t force yourself to pretend like nothing’s wrong.”
I’m not going to cry. I have to be the brave, bold, always-right girl. The weapon. The strong one. The one who can protect Alisa. And now, apparently, the one who can protect an entire race.
Shadus breaks his stare to get up and move, sitting next to me.
“The mharata are closing in,” He says.
“Duh,” I sniff.
“Now is your last chance. There’s still time to do it Raine’s way. You can choose. You are not powerless.”
“Really?” I gasp, the sound watery. “Because I fucking feel powerless.”
Shadus reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. The motion is tender, and sends my heart wrenching every which way. He opens the book he’s holding, and shows it to me. It’s an embossed likeness of Umala and Asara, carved in sandstone and facing each other.
“The power is yours. The choice is yours. You can use the power for progression, or destruction. It is your choice entirely. But you’ll only have that power, and that choice, once the mharata teach you. I’m not going to lie. It will be difficult. You will be injured, in both mind and body. The mharata are ruthless. But your life, too, has been ruthless. You’ve lived through much worse. And I know how strong you are for it. The mharata are nothing compared to the scars you’ve suffered at the hands of life.”
A seed of glowing hope emerges in my chest, but I clutch at my EVE organ.
“If I take it out…would that stop it all?”
“Perhaps. But nothing would change. The sotho would still scheme to leave the planet. The humans would still scheme to kill us all. You would not be part of the picture, anymore. And the war would be inevitable. But that is also a choice you have. Yulan would do it if Raine ordered so. You have many choices. You need to ask yourself what you want. What does Victoria Hale want, more than anything?”
I’m quiet, and then I dig deeper. Past the EVE organ, past my need to protect, past the loss of my Mom and past who I am as Victoria.
“I want…I want to be happy.”
Shadus smiles. “Then you know what you must do.”
“But – but what about you? The Gutters? Without zol, you’ll be –”
“We’ll be fine. I don’t know if anyone’s told you,” he smirks. “But we’re very intelligent. We will outsmart the humans, and leave some way or another. It might take longer, and we may lose a few more Gutters. That’s all.”
Shadus tucks the other strand of hair behind my other ear, and smiles brighter.
“Do what will make you happy, Victoria. That’s all I ask.”
12. The Hermit
In my dreams, my EVE organ is gone. I’m running through the winter woods outside the school, laughing and skipping over rocks and fallen logs. My scar is still under my ribs, but I feel lighter, freer, and I move like a joyful wind.
I come to the school’s front lawn. A red stain melts the snow in the distance. The light feeling drops away as I near it.
Alisa’s body replaces the Illuminator’s in the snow, her head smashed in, her jaw ripped clean off. And as I scream, the tears streaming down my face, the dark-haired, violet-eyed woman glides over the snow, the air around her hazy and distorted with darkness. She smiles that same vicious, insane smile.
“Leave me alone!” I scream at her.
“Tilu’ak mau vasora,” She sneers back, and reaches out to grab me.
I wake up to a dark room, and a darker heart.
13. The Moon
The protestors just won’t fucking give up.
They pace relentlessly, their signs waving. Teachers close the blinds on windows to block our view of them, but you can still hear the noise. You can always hear the hate in their voices. First the opening of an alien school, and now a murderer living at the alien school? Their twisted faces are understandable, but more hate’s not going to do anyone any good. They cheer in the day for parents dragging their EVE kids from the school, and dissipate at night like a pack of hyenas.
The police dart in and out of classrooms to call people for questioning. Classes empty. Teacher cars get their tires slashed. Walls blossom with spray-paint dissent. Some of the graffiti has to come from students; ‘Teachers are useless fucks’, and ‘The Gutter freak deserved to die, she was a bitch’. The janitor scrubs and sighs like he’s the oldest man in the world. Like he’s the only sane man in the world.
My breath clouds on the hall window as I watch him work. Scrub brush, water, bucket. Scrub brush, water, sigh, bucket.
“Victoria?”
I look up. Buttercup highlights and determined gold eyes. The dark circles under his eyes are prominent. He must be pushing himself three times as hard.
“Hey, Taj. Long time no see.”
Taj nods. “I’ve been…busy.”
“Too busy to even say hello?”
He looks guilty, but I quickly backtrack.
“Look, no. I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. It’s good to see you again, that’ s all. I’d gotten so used to you hanging around I – ”
“You’re going to get yourself killed.”
My eyes widen. His harden. “What?”<
br />
“The killer’s watching you.”
“You –” I take a step forward. “You know who it is?”
“I know it’s someone who was assigned by the Adjudicator sotho to keep an eye on the relationships within this school,” Taj says. “And if any humans consorted with Gutters in the romantic sense, the killer was given permission to eradicate the Gutter, in order to keep the bloodline ‘pure’.”
“What? That’s insane –”
“It’s not, when you consider humans are almost guaranteed to become pregnant by a single night with a Gutter, and vice versa. The result is –” He shudders. “The result is an abomination. The Illuminators have proven that much in their labs. And it cannot be aborted without killing the mother.”
“So Halsi was - ” I swallow. “She was pregnant?”
“Certainly,” Taj says. “And the sotho would never allow that. Someone slipped her the abortion medicine. It’s messy, but effective. She probably staggered out onto the lawn for help, but never made it that far.”
I wince, the image of her perforated head and broken jaw hanging like a grisly sign on the back of my eyelids. I try desperately to shake it off.
“So it was the sotho. The sotho killed her,” I say.
“No, it was a Gutter in this school. But my sister ordered the killing be allowed, yes.”
“You’re killing your own people?” I hiss. “You’ve killed a girl because – because she was in love?”
Taj’s eyes harden again. “We will do anything to maintain our culture. We won’t let it become sullied, or lost to human consumption and taint. We must stay as we are. We can’t succumb to your influence any more than we already have, or we will become weak, and you humans will have a very easy time killing us all. We must be strong. We must remain solely Gutter.”
“But this school – it’s all about integration! That’s the whole purpose –”
“The whole purpose is to maintain a good cover,” Taj says. “If we refused to collaborate with your government’s idea of desegregation, it would give them cause to wonder if we hate them, or are planning something. So we went along with it to keep our political ties clean.”
“This has all been an act for you? All of it?”
Taj nods sternly. “Every single day.”
“Even being friends with me?” I ask bitterly. Taj opens his mouth, looks away, and then looks back to me, resolve burning in his face.
“Yes.”
“You’re lying,” I snap. “I can see you’re lying.”
“Do not –” He raises his voice. “Speak to me of lying. If you value your life so much, then you’ll stay away from Shadus. Forever.”
“Are you –” I blink. “Are you threatening me? Your voice is bitter, you’ve been avoiding me. Don’t tell me you’re –”
“I won’t speak to you again on this matter,” Taj interrupts coldly, and walks away.
“Jealous,” I finish to thin air. But it sounds stupid, even to my own ears. He’s just warning me, nothing more.
I was a cover for him, and nothing more.
***
The killer is watching me.
But then again, so is everyone else. The mharata, the protestors, Yulan and Raine and Shadus and Taj. Everyone is watching me. I should be used to it, by now. Would the killer still target me, and kill me, if they knew I was zol? Did the killer even ask the mharata if Halsi was zol before they killed her? A sick, hot wave of disgust roils up into my throat. That would be the heartless, practical, Gutter-like thing to do.
I can leave all of it behind. There’s still time to go back to Alisa, and Dad. I want that more than anything. I just want them to take the organ out, give me the money, and go home. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. But now I’m a pawn. As long as the EVE organ is in me, I’m a pawn in this fucked up interracial covert battle.
I take a huge breath in front of Yulan’s office. It’s now or never. He’ll take the organ out, and it’ll be over. I have to do this. This will send me back to the life I want, make me happy.
I push inside. The sharp smell of antiseptic and dry cotton balls greets me. But Yulan isn’t there. A man with dark hair and olive skin sits in Yulan’s usual chair. He’s not facing me.
“Um, hello?” I ask. The man pivots, and I know instantly I’ve made a mistake by coming here. The man’s thin eyes are blood-red. Executioner sotho. But it’s more than that. His face has those same high cheekbones, the same broad lips and thick, hawk-like eyebrows. I’d know that face anywhere; Shadus.
This is his father.
“Yulan is not in at the moment,” The man says, his voice silky and deep, like a lullaby. “I am Osha, of the Executioners. And you are?”
I back up to the door, fumbling for the handle. But it won’t open. I shake and twist frantically, but nothing moves, like someone is holding it closed from the outside.
“I don’t mean to frighten you,” Osha says smoothly. “But I’m afraid you cannot leave just yet. There are things we must discuss.”
“L-Like what?” I steel my stance, folding my arms over my chest and trying to play it off like I wasn’t just desperately trying to get out.
“It occurs to me my son has told you a lie. He offered an out for you – that Yulan could take your EVE organ out. This is false. Yulan cannot do that.”
“He’s done it to a lot of EVE’s who left,” I counter. “He can definitely do it.”
Osha smiles, his mouth barely moving.
“Yes. He can do it. But I won’t allow it.”
“How did you know what Shadus told me?” I narrow my eyes. “We weren’t anywhere near any cameras.”
It’s true. Since the reveal in the janitor’s closet, Taj, Raine, Shadus and I had been taking extra care not to converse in areas heavily populated with cameras. And if there were some, we always kept our voices low and our lips out of sight, so anyone watching would be unable to lip-read. Osha taps his left arm.
“My son has a few upgrades, shall we say. He’s shown them to you. I took the liberty of…enhancing them before he left.”
“You’ve been listening in on him?”
“On everything,” Osha corrects. “I wasn’t going to let my only son into this place without some form of insurance. It seems I was right to do it. Not only have I kept an eye on this hovel, I’ve found the one thing Jerai’s been looking for. No – the one thing we’ve all been looking for.”
He knows. A hard, cold mass solidifies in my throat. He knows I’m zol. Osha stands up, his height looming towards me, and I quickly take inventory of the room – the window. I could make it, if I fake him out. Or could I? Are adult Gutters as fast as the teens? There’s only one way to find out. Like he can read my mind, Osha sighs.
“I would prefer if you wouldn’t resist,” Osha says, matter-of-factly. “It would ensure less injuries on your part.”
“Fuck you,” I spit.
“I feel as though I know you already, bad language and all. I do, don’t I? Because everything you’ve said to him, I have heard. You are quite taken with him. I wonder – does he feel the same way about you?”
I flinch, and Osha laughs, the sound like a snake humming. I concentrate on the medical equipment behind him. It’s electric. I dwell on my anger, my fear, my shame, forcing it to burn like a tattoo in the forefront of my brain.
Osha goes still, his laughter fading, replaced by a sinister smile as sharp as a dagger.
“Do not,” He says. “Try it.”
I clench my fists and grimace. His face instantly transforms – a light purple tinge on his cheeks and neck, his pupils snapping into slits. His nails grow long and black in a split-second, his canine teeth lengthening. An inhuman, hissing growl overlays his words.
“Do not try me, human.”
“I said FUCK YOU!” I scream, and dive behind the desk. The medical equipment flashes a bright green and implodes. I hit the ground hard, a sharp ringing bouncing in my skull. Metal and glass embeds in the walls, the floor, and Osh
a’s back. But he doesn’t even flinch. He walks over to the desk, sticking his terrifying face around it, his sharp incisors gleaming as he smiles.
“It will take more than that, little zol.”
I see his fist split-seconds before he jabs me in the stomach, the sharp pain hammering the breath from me in one final blow.
The world spins. From behind me, I hear the door open like I’m hearing it through water. Shined shoes and suits hover above me. Sunglasses that get taken off. Pink, pale eyes. A mharata. The pink bores into my soul, as if searching for something. I swear they spark with light, but it quickly dies. The mharata looks up and nods at Osha, and that’s all I see, because my head lolls back, my eyelids protest, and the world suddenly goes dark.
14. The Judgment
The policemen think I am pretty. Of course they do. All humans think Gutters are pretty, save for the ones who hate us. They are disturbed by my calm demeanor, and my Gutter blood, but they have seen worse. They deal with the darkest of human scum, after all.
There are two of them – a fat one and a very skinny one. The fat one sits at the desk, and the skinny one stands by the door. My lawyer, hired for me by the Adjudicator sotho, sits to my right. She is a small woman with a large, puffy face and a sharp tongue. The fat policeman leans forward.
“Ulsi, what do you know about the disappearance of Victoria Hale?”
They’ve called in many Gutters to this same room – a disused broom closet in Green Hills High that has been converted to a questioning room. They called in many after the explosions, and many more after the murders. But I am the first to be called in this instance. I am one of the Gutters who knew her best, after all.
I fold my hands over each other before I speak.
“I know she has been missing for a week, now. I know her disappearance triggered the closing of the school, since it was officially deemed ‘unsafe’. I know the last time I saw her was lunch that day. She ate with Dakota and I in the main hall.”
