by Amy Johnson
Crossing my fingers, I walk back to the door and wave the pseudo wrist around.
The light blinks green and then, thankfully, the door slides open. The clothing room comes into view, motion-sensored lights clicking on as I step inside.
By now, blood drenches the front of my white shirt. My elbow drips with the same red liquid and leaves a trail behind me. It criss-crosses around the room, puddling by the source of the cuffs. If I continue on like this, the cybers will follow the trail to the Underground.
Ripping a shirt off the rack, I hold one end between my teeth and tear a strip off of it. Unfolding my arm, I can see the bruises that spread over the entire bend, speckled with black marks. A gaping hole lies in the middle, trickling a slow line of blood.
Using what remains of the white shirt, I dab the area clean. Holding my breath proves my best idea of the day as I apply pressure to the wound, lifting my arm high above my head. Dad’s first aid advice rushes back like a wave. Fifteen minutes will stop the bleeding, but that much time isn’t an option.
My feet carry me around the room in a slow circle, still holding my hand up in the air. I count to sixty ten times and then lower my arm to wrap the scrap of fabric around it tightly. Heartbeat racing in my head, I change out of my bloody clothes and tuck the hose and cuff into the waistband of my clean white pants.
Next step: plan my daring escape.
If it wasn’t for Knox, I would just turn back now and storm out of the prep room like I did the night before, tearing through the crowds of cybernetics like an ice skate. Yet, Knox helped me get this far. I won’t leave without him. Not again.
Getting the chip isn’t an option, though. I wouldn’t make it out of the administrative building alive; Knox wouldn’t make it in.
We’re going to have to run straight home.
I glance around the room, noticing a small window just above my head. I scoot the single chair over to it, step up carefully, and peer out the glass.
The sky outside is bathed in shades of dingy pink peeking through the pollution. The sun descends behind the skyscrapers in the distance, fighting for its well-deserved superiority over the lights that clutter the skyline.
How many times have I seen the sunset, and yet it still takes my breath away?
It means I’ve lived another day when I wasn’t supposed to survive in the first place. Maybe I was trapped inside the Anthros, but I’m still alive. I plan to keep it that way.
Sunset also means that Knox is in his room. No one will be guarding him.
I step off of the chair, taking a shaky step towards the door. It beeps once and then slides open without a sound.
The hallway gapes ahead of me--empty and dark. When I step out, the lights come on--a domino line of clicks and bursts of white light.
Taking a deep breath, I walk, training my eyes on the hallway before me and refusing to look over my shoulder or at the doors. The testing rooms pass by me, and then, I turn the corner past the training rooms. Pressing myself against the wall, I tiptoe to the curve in the hall and hold my breath as I lean against the solid white surface.
“At least tell me that she is okay.”
I recognize Knox’s voice, raised and tense. He probably has his mouth knitted into a frown and his eyebrows turned down. I can see him now, scowling at the two cybernetics. Why is he outside of his room?
“She was fine when I left her,” the cyber says, and the sound of the door to the outside closing drifts toward me.
“Will her eyes be okay?”
“Yes, of course they will. Why are you so concerned, Subject 3?”
“You would not understand.”
That’s an understatement. The machine can’t begin to comprehend that Knox cares for me. He’s becoming more human right before my eyes.
Now’s the perfect time, though. If I wait a minute longer, it might be too late.
I step out from my hiding place, and I register the scene before me quickly in my head. The cyber is alone; the Artificial that accompanied him before is nowhere to be seen. He faces Knox, back turned towards me. Knox sees me, and his mouth drops and jaw relaxes. Even from here, I see the relief painted in the blue of his eyes in the way his lips curl upwards and in the way his shoulders slump forward.
“What are you looking at?” the cyber says with a glance over his shoulder.
Smiling at Knox, I charge the cyber in the hopes of catching him off guard. If he even has a second to realize what’s happening, this fight will be much more difficult.
Lucky for me, I manage to get both arms around him before the situation settles into his processors. His mind plots the logical points of attack while I focus on getting his paralyzer off of his belt.
While I’m ripping weapons off and throwing them down the hallway, he pushes up off the floor, reaches up, and grabs a handful of my hair with one hand. Without blinking, he tosses me off of him against the wall. I slide down to the floor and clamber to my feet.
“You forgot one weapon,” he says, standing much taller than me.
In his hand sits the black box--the switch.
Yet, I’m not wearing the cuff. He can’t shock me.
He lowers his thumb onto the button, and my body lights up with the electricity.
I kneel down in the floor, clutching my stomach. What’s going on? How is this happening? My head rings, and I cover both ears with shaking hands, closing my eyes against the increasing pain.
Then, everything stops.
I open my eyes, and the black box slides across the floor toward me.
“Pick it up, Eden,” Knox snaps, bringing my attention up to him.
He’s holding the cyber against the tile, and a sheen of sweat covers his forehead. One of his hands has been plunged into the cyber’s neck, snapping it in half.
That’s a smart move. Since the power comes from the heart and the processing comes from the primary control panel in the skull, disconnecting the two would in theory shut down the cybernetic. It’s a tactic I’ve never put to use. I rely instead on agility and grace to dismember and destroy them.
Knox, on the other hand, uses a different schema of experience, one built upon years of living with the machines.
I grab the square box and slam it against the wall. It shatters, crumbling like gravel in my hand.
“How did he hurt you? You got rid of the cuff.”
Knox pushes himself off of the cyber and wipes his hands on his pants, even though they’re spotless. He shivers, turning towards me with a scowl.
“I have no idea,” I say with a shrug.
“How did you get out of the prep room? I was going to come get you.”
I raise my eyebrows in shock and smirk.
Knox had a plan after all, one that extended past the powder.
“It’s a long story, but I have a temporary cuff.” I pull the cuff out of my waistband, and the puzzle jams together in my head. “He was shocking me through this. It was touching my skin. He must’ve known I had it on me.”
“Of course he knew. It is the only way you would have gotten out.”
Knox’s level of sass surprises me. His eyes dart around the hallway. His hand squeezes my elbow hard.
“I didn’t know you were going to come get me later,” I say, prying my elbow out of his grip. He bites his lower lip and nods. “Wait, how did you get out of your room?”
Knox sighs.
“I called for them,” he says slowly. “It’s one of the perks of being a long term resident. I was going to take his body and use it like a cuff to set off the doors.” He glances down at the machine. “What should we do with him? If someone finds him out here, they will set off the alarm.”
My gaze drifts down towards him, and I point towards my room door.
“Let’s drag him in there.”
With rapid fingers, I type the code into the keypad and push the door open while Knox drags the limp cyber into the room. Once he’s inside, Knox hurries back out, hugging himself with arms covered in goosebumps
.
I give the cyber one more once-over. It seems almost wasteful to just leave him here. He would serve as a perfect shield if we were confronted. I might even be able to break into the administrative building with his security clearance.
Wait.
“What are you doing?”
I’ve already knelt down beside the cyber’s body, ripped open the back of his shirt, and pressed a cold hand on his bare skin.
“He has something I need,” I say through gritted teeth. Baring my hand like a claw, I push down. My nails sink through his skin and fight their way through the insulation and tubing. They meet a solid surface and stop, bending under the pressure. My fingers dig around the solidified mass until I can get a solid grip. When it’s secured, I yank my hand back and grin at what I’ve fished out.
The green and bronze computer panel smiles back up at me, its teeth glinting in the light.
“What is that?” Knox asks, voice barely above a whisper.
“A computer chip,” I say, standing back up, “and it’s what I got caught trying to get in the first place.”
Knox blinks at me before he exhales, nodding.
“It is important to you?”
I nod.
“Then, it is important to me, too. Now let’s go, before the other cybers get here.”
With that, he walks out of the room. I follow, shutting the door and listening for the lock to click. Knox collects the paralyzer from the ground and passes it to me as we hurry toward the dressing room door.
Once we are through the first and second door and standing in the prep room, Knox slows down and glances around.
“I’ve never been in here,” he whispers, running a hand over the metal table.
“Never?”
He shakes his head.
“Well, maybe. I do not remember if I have been, and I think I would remember something like this.”
He circles around the room, touching the blank interfaces of the machines.
I can’t begin to understand how he feels. I’ve seen service machines hundreds of times over.
“What do these do?” he asks in a whisper.
“They’re service machines. When I first came in, they cleaned me. When I was hurt, they gave me medicine and patched me up.”
“Are they humanoid?”
I shake my head, and he continues walking.
“So, there are three types of machines, then. The artificial intelligences, the cybernetics, and the service machines.”
“And the Idyllic,” I remind him. “Whatever they are.”
He nods, finally reaching the door where I’m standing.
“Are you ready? Once we step out of this door, there’s no going back, Knox.”
His shoulders quiver as he breathes. I jump when he takes my hand, knitting his fingers through mine.
“I have made my decision,” he says as he meets my eyes.
“And that is?”
“I’ll follow you wherever it is you take me.”
My breath leaves in one giant rush, stampeding across the distance between us. The skin of his hand burns hot against my own and spreads like wildfire, nesting in my cheeks. Some heartbeat pounds in our fingertips. Is it his or mine?
“Why?” I ask, exhaling at the same time so that the word comes out breathy and quiet.
With his free hand, he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear and running his fingers down the length of my jaw. I hold my breath and our eye contact, bracing myself for the tidal wave.
“You convinced me,” he says, letting the words form in his mind before he says them. They dance behind his eyes for a moment and then tiptoe out to see me, checking around the corners to make sure it’s safe.
I feel the emotion building in my stomach, threatening to crawl out of my throat and latch onto him. Tears brim my eyes, but I swallow them back and take a long, shaky breath.
“Thank you,” I whisper, squeezing his hand.
“For what?”
“Just being there. I don’t think I would have made it more than a day without you. I might have gone insane. Plus, this. I couldn’t have gotten this far without your help.”
He smiles, but it’s not his usual smile. This one stays in his lips, pinching his cheeks but not forcing his dimples out. It fades just as quickly as it appeared, and Knox turns away from me towards the door.
“We need to go,” he says, holding his hand out. I stare at his open palm for a second before realizing he wants the cuff. Handing it over to him, I shield my eyes with my free hand and clutch his for dear life with the other.
The door beeps once, slides open, and lets the night air kiss our toes.
Knox doesn’t move. His eyes go wide and dart around at the night sky above. I smile in understanding, stepping past him onto the concrete.
“It’s amazing, I know, but we have to move. Now that we’re outside, we’re vulnerable.”
Knox’s gaze never leaves the sky as I pull him along, walking briskly. I follow the same path of safety as I did the night before. Ducking behind bushes seems silly because we don’t run into any cybers. The streets stretch empty.
Occasionally, I glance back at him. The awe is still painted in his face. The moon reflects in his pupils, casts shadows under his chin, and bathes his face in natural light. His eyes move like fish from one side to the other as he tries to catch every sight that he can.
As we pass under the Anthros gate, he catches his breath and digs his heels in, forcing me to stop.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, tugging at his hand.
“These are humans,” he mumbles, pointing up at the sign.
I nod and following his finger to the figure he’s pointing at. It’s a female, and her body bends unnaturally along her spine backwards. It serves as the bottom curve of the ‘c’ in ‘Anthropological.’ She faces the ‘i’ with her breasts exposed. Her lack of a face sends chills down my spine.
“Knox, we have to go,” I say, glancing over his shoulder towards the park. The administrative building casts its shadow on the ground before us, coming to a head only inches from the gate. Unlike a few nights before, the lights are on. Someone is inside. Are they watching us?
Knox gives in, and I lurch forward, tripping over my feet as I hurry along again.
We’ve just made it out of the front entrance when the alarm sounds. Knox stops, and his head turns back to face the park. His forehead forms riverbeds in itself, sweat beading between the lines.
“Eden,” he says, refusing to budge as I pull at his arm. The sweat on his palm makes my hand slip out of his, and I grip his fingers instead. “They’re coming.”
“Who are?” I ask, giving up and standing beside him.
“The Artificials.”
Like clockwork, the air above us comes alive. Like a swarm of bees, they fill the sky overhead, darting in and out of the clouds in a ‘v’ formation. Beams of infrared light scan the ground around us, and the hum of dozens of paralyzers fill my ears.
“Knox, we have to go!” I scream, jerking him behind me as I take off at a sprint.
I need to get to the nearest manhole. I need to get underground. That’s where we will be safest.
Knox pants as he runs behind me, given away only by his heavy footfalls. The Artificials follow overhead; the air that feeds through their vehicles whistles.
I skid to a stop and search the buildings around me for some sign of where I am. We stand in the residential area, meaning the lights here aren’t as bright. There’s no hustle of cars, ever-glowing billboards, or crowds of cybernetics. Here, factories surround us, pumping smoke into the sky through smokestacks like castle turrets. The moon and stars have long disappeared, leaving us to stumble around in the unnatural yellow streetlights.
“Are we lost?” Knox whispers, leaning in closer to me in the shadow we’re hidden in. His breath runs down my neck, and his lips graze my skin.
“No,” I say, biting the inside of my cheek. “I know these streets. I just need to find a way in.�
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“A way in?”
“Yeah. There should be one around here somewhere.”
I pull him back out into the alley, walking with my back arched to search the ground for the familiar circular entry. It should be right up here.
My toe comes into contact with a raised surface, scraping the skin off the end of it. I drop Knox’s hand, kneeling down to clutch the bleeding toe. My eyes drift over to what I hit, and a smile crawls across my face.
“Found it,” I whisper, standing upright again and putting my weight on my heel.
“What did you find exactly?” Knox asks as he looks around the empty alley.
“The door.”
I bend double and dig my fingernails into the soft dirt packed into the gap surrounding the manhole cover. Then, I lift it up, waddling as I carry it over to the side.
“We’re going down there?”
Apprehension laces Knox’s voice as he gazes into the calm emptiness below. The tunnel breathes cold air and the fresh scent of moss. The sound of running water can be heard over the Artificials overhead.
I jump at the sound of an Artificial lowering itself onto the ground at the mouth of the alley. Pulling Knox to the side, I crouch down, watching it dismount the vehicle and stand facing where we were.
If we go in now, it’s going to follow us. I would be leading it into our hideout.
Grimacing, I kick the lid back into place. The sound echoes throughout the alley and distracts the Artificials long enough for me to pull Knox into another one and out of sight.
“I thought we were going down,” Knox hisses into my ear as he stumbles along behind me.
“We are, but first, though, we need to lose their trail. They can’t follow us down.”
We run for the next five minutes, but it feels like eternity. Sweat runs down my back, pooling above my waistband. The chip cuts into my stomach as it pulses up and down. The pain tells me it’s still there, though. So, I don’t complain. Knox starts off strong, but after a few blocks, he slows down to a jog, sucking air in giant gulps.
When I’m sure I can’t hear anymore Artificials behind us, I duck low into a final alley, crouching as I walk so that I don’t stub my toe against the manhole lid again. I find what I’m looking for, grab the lid, and lift with ease. My burning muscles cry out for the cool space and the makeshift beds below the streets.
