“Hurry.” Nate taps his fingers on the door.
I slam my foot on the speed pedal. Sweat drips from my forehead. My mind spins with images of a city with crowded building towers—skyscrapers—and speeding cars. I smell an acrid odor—exhaust—and hear honking.
Nate lunges across the seat to grab the wheel. “You almost crashed into that tree!”
“Sorry.” I take a deep breath to clear my head, gripping the wheel.
“What just happened?” he asks.
Milly would be too scarified to admit the truth, but I won’t let her influence me. So I say, “The memdenity confuses my thoughts.”
“You’ve done that?” His voice drips disgust.
“All youths get them.”
“Not where I live.” Nate scowls. “I won’t let anyone mess with my brain.”
I feel the same way but find myself defending the process. “How else can useful skills be learned?” I ask.
“By reading or listening to stelling.”
“Why use a spoon to fill a bucket when you can dip the bucket into a lake?” I repeat a phrase Instructor Penny used to explain memdenity. “I experienced Milly’s childhood in one morning. While I learned about retro-century from the Instructors, living it is so much more real. Jennza has never seen a car but Milly rode in them. I heard songs, tasted foods, tapped my fingers on a com—com—” I search the word for the magical device.
“Computer,” he says, which surprises me, because he’s right.
“Yes, and there’s much knowledge that is mine now. My next memdenity will show me house-crafting skills, marriage, and natural birth.”
“Marriage? You have a husband?”
I nod. “Also a daughter, sister, nephews, and grandmother.”
“But you’re not really Milly.” He looks at me with a puzzled frown.
“No … she died a long time ago. I’m expected to become more like her, a gentle person who is much loved by her Family.”
“And you’re okay with this? A husband? What if he wants … well … to act like a husband? He must be much older than you.”
“He ceased aging at twenty-five, so in ten years we’ll be the same age.” I hear my voice, calm and accepting, but when I think of Arthur touching me, I shudder.
“Twenty-five forever,” he says with a sarcastic edge. “My people are lucky to survive past twenty, yet you’ll never grow old. Even your memories are eternal.”
I stare at the road, my speed steady, but my thoughts uneasy. It’s not fair for my life to be so easy while his people battle creatures and die young. And why have I been told lies about Nocturnes? Nate isn’t subhuman or a beast, and there’s gentleness in his face that stirs my heart.
Nate touches my arm, his fingers callused but gentle. “Jennza, I will never forget what you’ve done for me tonight.”
His tone echoes with good-bye. I slow the cycle as we near the turnoff to my compound, letting my gaze linger on his face for the last time—the scars of bravery, full lips, and sea-blue eyes. His gaze meets mine, and although I quickly look at the road, I thrill at his nearness. And I wonder: when he’s safe with his people beneath the ground, will he think of me?
“Almost there,” he says.
Almost gone, I think.
I peer ahead at a tangled landscape of trees, recognizing the row of trees leading into the Cross compound.
Soon Nate will return to his people. I’ll never see him again. My emotions plunge down an endless hole. I shouldn’t care about a killer. He admitted his guilt with no remorse, and he’ll probably kill again.
Don’t trust a Noc. Never leave the Fence. Stay safe in ShareHaven.
I’m not sure if these are Milly thoughts. Or mine.
“The Uniforms must know you’ve escaped,” I say anxiously. “Be careful.”
“They’ll be too far behind to catch me. Don’t worry.”
“I never used to worry about anything until I met you.”
He reaches out as if he’s going to touch me, and I’m disappointed when he pulls away. “Before I met you, I thought all Topsiders were arrogant and cruel.”
“I thought all Nocturnes were monsters.”
“Your Fence isn’t only to keep claws out but to keep us out too. While creatures stalk the woods, we’re forced underground. It takes a dozen hunters to kill one claw. We’ve tried to destroy them, but they multiply faster than we do, so we’re forced to live underground.”
His words crawl under my skin. “I’ve never seen a monster—but I’ve heard their growls at night.”
“You live in daylight when they sleep.”
I push the pedal with a burst of anger, and the solar cycle nearly careens into a ditch. “Sorry,” I say quickly, righting the cycle. “I’m just so angry at our leaders. They should help you, not shut you out. We should all work together to defeat the claws.”
“You can’t change the world,” he says sadly. “Or even one island.”
“I can try,” I insist. “If the leaders won’t do anything, I’ll go the scientists.”
“They won’t listen, and you’ll only endanger yourself.”
“Danger is my normal.”
“I wish all Topsiders were like you—with more heart than hate.” He reaches across the seat, touching my arm. “You’re special, Jennza.”
I like the sound of my name from his lips.
The Cross entrance looms ahead. To the right, beyond shadowed trees, is the only gate in the Fence, its high sentry platform a dark silver smear against night.
“Stop here,” Nate says. “I can walk the rest of the way.”
I slow to a stop, resisting the urge to keep driving so he can’t leave. He’s looking at me. And I’m looking back, losing myself in blueness deeper than the sea. I should just tell him what I’m thinking … feeling … wishing ….
Nate suddenly points to the Cross compound entrance. “What’s that?” he asks tensely.
Twin lights shine from a vehicle leaving the compound, heading our way.
“Hide the cycle!” Nate barks. “Over there. Behind the trees!”
Dirt spits from the tires, hitting my arm as I swerve off the smooth road. The cycle bumps and lurches until I stop it behind a thicket of trees. I jump out and start running with Nate. “Go to your tunnel!” I cry. “Hurry!”
“What about you? It’s not safe here.”
“I’ll hide until I can sneak back into the compound.”
“The alert may already have gone out about my escape. Uniforms will search for me with guns and sniffer beasts. The sniffers will find you. Come with me!” He grabs my hand and pulls me deep into the shadows.
Trees swallow us. I nearly fall over a log, trying to match his long strides. Towering in the near distance are the iron spikes of the Gate. As we draw closer, I count seven Uniforms patrolling the Gate: three on the ground and four perched on the high sentry platform, poised to destroy enemies.
Nate rips aside hanging vines and squeezes through a narrow, rocky gap. Brittle branches crunch beneath our feet, each sound sharp like breaking bones. Nate stops by a gigantic blackened oak that’s twisted and burnt, as if struck by lightning not once but over and over.
A slant of moonlight shines on Nate’s pale, sweating face. His jaw sets with purpose. In a swift jerk, he grabs a burnt branch and pulls it sideways.
There’s an odd grating sound, and the ground beneath my feet quakes. Branches yawn and stretch, sliding apart to reveal a gaping, dark hole.
Nate steps into the hole, and I start to follow until Milly’s terror tugs and rips my thoughts, her fears stinging like whipping branches.
No, not now, Milly. I have to be strong.
Before I lose courage, I plunge forward, following Nate into the unknown.
TWENTY-SIX
Concrete steps disappear beneath the ground.
Nate is a shadow blurring down the steep staircase, and I hurry to keep up with him. I envy his ability to move swiftly in the dark. Tunnel-dwelling is his nor
mal, I remind myself. When he turns back to urge me to hurry, his voice is clipped and anxious.
I brace my hand against the side of the tunnel, which isn’t rock or dirt as I expected but metal. At the bottom, lights flicker from the low ceiling. Nate touches his finger to his lips.
Looking around nervously, I search for any hint we aren’t alone. But no one could hide in this cramped room, and the door up ahead is fortified with steel and bolted shut. There are two chairs beside a wooden desk, a metal cabinet that looks retro-century, a blanket on the narrow cot, and a plate with a dried apple core and bread crust on a dusty table.
“No one’s been here in a while,” Nate says, blowing out a deep breath.
I eye the cot uneasily. “What is this place?”
“It’s called the Threshold, a meeting place for trading beneath the Gate.”
He frowns as he says trading, and I know he doesn’t mean trading frivels at Sunday Fair. Lives are traded.
“Who met you here? Leader Cross?” I guess.
“We didn’t exchange names.” His expression hardens. “Why should they give anything but orders to a Noc?”
“What orders?” I hold my breath.
“You already know.”
“But I don’t know why.” I bite my lip, aching over the differences between us. “What can they give you in return? What’s worth more than a life?”
“Hundreds of lives. We barter for medicine.” A shadow crosses his face. “Living without sun causes illnesses, mostly in our young. But they survive much longer with vitamins and medicine.”
“Why not ask for our help? Health-keepers can heal any illness.”
“But they won’t. Not for us.” He slaps the table, the dried apple core rolling close to the edge. “Your people hate mine.”
“Not all of us,” I say.
“I’m learning that.” He sighs. “But you’d be safer to stay away from us … from me.”
“Why?” I clench my fists in frustration. “I know my Family Leader was involved in Grand Sarwald’s death and that others wanted him dead too. They bribed you to kill him, probably with medicine. But there’s so much I don’t know, and you’re my last chance to get answers.”
“You won’t like the answers,” he warns.
“I have to know how Grand Sarwald was killed.”
“They told me the target wanted a quick death because he was dying from a slow, painful disease.”
“Ridiculous!” I shake my head. “We have medis to cure all illnesses. No one sickens or suffers with pain. Grand Sarwald was a brave man who would never dishonor his Family by asking to die. Whoever told you that was lying.”
He turns his head so I can’t read his expression. “I wish things were different, that life had more value than barter.”
“No one can force you to kill.”
“And no one can force you to take someone else’s memories.” He looks hard at me. “Yet we do what we’re born to do.”
I touch the memdenity scar on my neck, frowning.
“More than a fence divides us,” he continues with an upward glance. “I’ve wondered what it would be like to be one of you, to wake every morning to the sky and have long, peaceful lives.” The wistfulness in his voice aches inside me.
He rubs his thumb over a jagged scar on his arm. “But I’d rather be with people whose scars are shown outside, not hidden beneath smooth skin. Your people are even cruel to their own if they aren’t perfect—leaving them outside the Gate to be devoured by beasts.”
“What are you talking about?” I demand. “No one is ever put outside.”
“Are you sure?”
His question startles me. Not even the Uniforms would be so cruel. Yet I wonder if this explains why youths who’ve been Returned are never seen again.
“Believe what you want.” Nate frowns. “But don’t trust anyone.”
I step closer to him. “Including you?”
“You know what I’ve done.”
“But you didn’t want to.”
His blue eyes harden like stone. “I volunteered.”
“You … you wanted to kill?” I’m begging for him to say no.
“I did what I’ve been trained to do. The medicine I earned will keep many children alive.”
“Until they grow up and become killers too,” I say sarcastically.
“If they’re lucky.” He points to the steel door. “I can’t stay any longer. I must go now.”
He taps the door, and blue-gray light floods down over us like silvery moonlight. I watch as Nate taps a numbered sequence on the panel.
“Go back the way you came. There’s a panel on the inside of the door,” he says, pointing behind me toward the tunnel. “Touch numbers 4, 8, 4, 0.”
I repeat the numbers over and over again until they’re firm in my memory.
Click. A light flashes red. The door slides sideways into the wall, revealing a deep tunnel.
“Leave now,” Nate urges. “Follow the steps back exactly and press the numbers. Forget you ever saw this place.”
“But what about you? Will you be safe?” I whisper.
“Life isn’t about being safe; it’s about surviving to live another day.” He gazes deeply into my eyes. “You’ve given me more days. Thank you, Jennza.”
He reaches for my hand, and I should pull away, yet I curl my fingers through his. Our hands melt together. His are callused and scarred, mine soft and smooth. I long to lean against his chest, lift my face toward his and …
Abruptly, he drops my hand. “I—I have to go.”
I nod, unable to speak. It’s like I’m being ripped apart from the inside. Exposed, my emotions raw and bleeding.
Nate reaches into his pocket and pulls out a star-shaped shell. “Here’s your shell.”
“No, it’s yours now.”
Like my heart, I think. I’m swept into the brilliant blue of his gaze that touches something deep inside, something thrilling and scarifying. Whenever I look at the sky-reflecting water, I’ll see his eyes.
He leans close, and I inhale his woodsy scent. “I don’t know how I’ll do it, but I’ll come back to see you. I promise.”
Then he’s gone.
Without Nate, the underground room is suffocating. Concrete walls close in, and there’s no sound except for my heartbeat. I glance at the table where someone left the crust of bread and apple core. A wrinkled blanket covers the empty cot. Who slept here?
No one from ShareHaven would need to hide, so it must be here for “tools” like Nate. Outrage burns inside me, and even though Nate is safe, I am determined to find out who gave the orders for Grand Sarwald’s death.
As I climb back up the stairs, I go through the list of Believers at the secret meeting—Leader Cross, Arthur, Daisy, Grandmother, and members from other Families, including Instructor Penny. It hurts to think badly of Instructor Penny. I need to talk to her, to find out her truth.
The stairs seem steeper climbing up, and I’m breathing hard by the time I reach the top. There’s no knob or handle, only a small square panel like the one on the door Nate left through. The panel glows eerie silver in the dark, numbers zero to nine gleaming like demon eyes. I try the sequence that Nate told me. Click. The light flashes from red to green.
I push at the door and it opens easily.
As I step into chilly air, strong hands grab me.
A harsh yet familiar voice shouts, “I’ve got her!”
TWENTY-SEVEN
I’m under house arrest, confined to my room with no visitors—until the leaders can decide my fate.
Leader Cross nearly twisted my arm off when he dragged me from the tunnel. “Where’s the Noc?” he demanded.
“Gone,” I told him with satisfaction.
“How did he get out of jail?”
I wouldn’t answer.
“Did you help him escape?”
Milly’s thoughts pulled at me, warning me to apologize and beg for forgiveness. But I rushed on, too angry to be scarified.
“You bribed Nate to kill Grand Sarwald,” I accused. “You would have let him die so he couldn’t tell the other Leaders about your meetings!”
He fist came at me so fast, I hit the ground before pain exploded.
Hours later, pain still burns my face. But worse is the sting of my own foolishness. I should have kept quiet and said nothing.
Outside my locked door, Rosemarie’s voice rises angrily.
“You can’t keep me out of my own room!” she shouts. “What have you done to Milly? What’s happening? I don’t understand any of this.”
“She knows too much,” Leader Cross snaps.
Rosemarie gasps. “She’s won’t tell anyone. You can trust Milly.”
“She’s not Milly—and she never will be.” His words slam hard like his fist. “Leave this matter to me.”
“I will not!” she shouts back. “Release her right now. I won’t let you hurt her.”
“I won’t do anything to her. They will.”
There’s a pause. No one says anything until Rosemarie begins to cry. “No,” she sobs. “Not again. Please, don’t do this. She’s only a young girl and means no harm.”
“There’s no other option.”
“She won’t tell anyone. I’ll watch her so she doesn’t leave our dwellings.”
“You didn’t even know she’d left your room,” he scoffs. “There’s too much at risk to trust her. There’s only one way to ensure her silence.”
“No!” Rosemarie gasps.
“It’s the right punishment.”
“It was bad enough with him … but something was wrong with his mind. Milly is healthy, intelligent, and a sweet youth.”
“Your sweet youth destroyed steel bars to release a killer from jail. She betrayed ShareHaven and shamed our Family.”
“Surely there’s a mistake.”
“Yes—but I won’t allow any more. They’re coming for her tonight.” I hear Rosemarie’s sharp intake of breath. “She’ll be Returned.”
PART
THREE
TWENTY-EIGHT
I sit by the window, watching dying autumn leaves twist in the wind and fall from the large oak tree by the vehicle barn. The door to the barn has been left open, and I glimpse visiting vehicles. Is this another not-so-secret meeting of Believers? Are they discussing me? Leader Cross will twist the truth, turning even Instructor Penny against me. Will he say I went crazy like the last youth? I have only a few hours left in the Cross Family.
Memory Girl Page 19
