The Murder Complex

by Lindsay Cummings

  “Where are you taking me?” She asks again. “Because I’m getting ready to jump.”

  “Where I can explain myself to you,” I say. “When you see it . . . maybe you’ll understand why I tried to— . . . ”

  “Why should that even matter to me? I don’t know you, and I don’t want to.”

  “Come on. I’m not that bad.”

  We sit in silence. In the distance, beyond the marshes, I can see the towering black gates of the Perimeter. There’s all kinds of stories about the citizens who’ve tried to sneak through, stupid enough to think they could just leave.

  The rumor is that when the Pulse paralyzes you, you end up belly-up in the ocean. It’s the ultimate Leech warning: No one screws with us.

  A while later the train rolls to a stop at the only remaining station inside the Perimeter. We leap down from our car and I lead Meadow through the sea of people. Too many people. Way too many.

  “Welcome to the City of Cortez” the old holograph on the station house reads. It hangs from the building, dangling in the wind, flickering every so often. No one has bothered to fix it.

  I turn to look at Meadow. She raises her eyebrows and looks at me. “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere different,” I say. I give her my best smile, then plunge into the crowd, hoping that she follows.

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  CHAPTER 25

  MEADOW

  People here are smiling. Some of them, at least. More than they do in the Shallows. A few children actually race back and forth in front of us, playing games. I feel like we have gone back in time, back before the murders began. Before my mother died.

  We stop when we reach Zephyr’s surprise. It is a massive boardwalk, stretching from the beach out into the ocean. I have heard of them. It seems impossible that the Initiative would still let one stand.

  But of course. There at the end of the boardwalk, larger than life itself, is a giant silver globe, held up by a massive golden hand. Carved in the thumb is an open eye.

  I see you. Nothing you do will be missed.

  And suddenly the entire place seems sick to me. These are the people who support them, and love them. These . . . these are the Believers. The traitors. The ones who believe the Initiative is good. Holy, even.

  “This is where I used to live,” Zephyr says to me. “This is where I come from.”

  I look around at the houses and buildings just off the boardwalk, the Initiative soldiers patrolling the streets, rifles in hand. I look at the people laughing and talking and thinking that they are safe.

  “This is where you came from?”

  “My parents were Leech lovers.” Zephyr nods, his shame on his face. “Me, I think Commandment One is the biggest sin there is. Come on.”

  We shoulder past a guard, the dark look in his eyes telling me that maybe, he might hate the Initiative just as much as we do. We slip through the large metal gates at the boardwalk’s entrance.

  “Today is the festival,” Zephyr says. “They’re celebrating the day the Leeches took control. That’s when . . . you know, the Perimeter went up. And then the murders started.”

  “Why?” I think maybe they have all been brainwashed.

  We stand in line to get our numbers scanned, and by the time we make it through to the boardwalk, I am shaking with rage. People are clapping. Celebrating. Singing.

  They are happy.

  “I want to kill them all,” I say under my breath. Zephyr places his hand on my shoulder. He squeezes it, just once. “Be careful what you say here,” he whispers.

  There is one thing still working on the boardwalk. A giant metal mushroom, tall as a building, with peeling red paint on its rounded top. Hanging from the mushroom are at least a hundred swings on fat chains.

  The mushroom lights up, and strange, tinny-sounding music plays, and as people file on and strap themselves into the swings, it begins to spin.

  “Come on.” Zephyr grabs my wrist. I flinch, but when I look at him, he is smiling at me. “Have a little fun, at least. The world isn’t all death and destruction.”

  He is wrong. But I let him lead me to the swings. The spinning mushroom slows down. Citizens unlatch themselves and climb down, and soon, our line is moving. “We’re up,” Zephyr says.

  I follow him through the maze of swings. When we reach ours, I feel Zephyr’s strong hands on my waist. He lets them linger there, for a moment, before boosting me in.

  Zephyr jumps beside me. Our legs touch. The space is tight and I could not move away even if I wanted to.

  The mushroom lights up. We start to move. We go round and round, in a wide circle, feet dangling. It is like floating in a dream. Our swing is on the outside, so we soar over the sea every few seconds. I imagine the chains snapping, and our swing flying away and never landing.

  We could fly over the Perimeter. We could go away and never come back.

  The swing swoops low, and my stomach drops. I scream, giggling like Peri does when I tickle her, and suddenly I feel terrible.

  I should not be here with this boy.

  I turn to Zephyr, who I realize has been watching me. He does not smile when my eyes meet his. Instead he just stares, soft and questioning.

  It makes me feel warm. It makes me feel wrong. I clear my throat. “I need answers,” I say.

  He nods, as the swing carries us away.

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  CHAPTER 26

  ZEPHYR

  She doesn’t ask how I became a Ward.

  She doesn’t ask why I tried to kill myself.

  She asks me about my parents.

  “They died when I was eight,” I say. “During the Dark Time.” I don’t go into the story. I don’t go into the fact that I saw them murdered with my own eyes.

  We glide over the crowd. People look up. Kids smile and wave.

  “I’m sorry,” Meadow says. “Who were they?”

  “They were just people. Nobody important. Same as me.”

  Meadow frowns. “That’s where you’re wrong. I saw the doctor scan you. It said you were a Ward. But it also said something else. It said you were Essential.”

  Her eyes go all wide when she says it, like it’s supposed to mean something to me.

  The mushroom’s music keeps playing, tinny and out of tune.

  “Isn’t that what everyone’s says? Maybe it’s just code for something else.” ChumHead. Murderer. Someone who has no hope of being wanted by gorgeous silver-haired girls.

  Meadow shakes her head. Her curls fall in front of her face, and if I weren’t afraid she would snap my finger in two, I’d probably reach out and push her hair behind her ear. Talan says that makes girls melt. “No one is Essential, Zephyr. No one is Essential.”

  “Then it has to be a mistake.”

  “You should have died,” she says. “You were practically dead. When the Doctor saw you, he knew you were a Ward. He wanted to let you die. But then he scanned you. You should have seen his face.” She stops to take a breath. “He was terrified.”

  Suddenly the swings feel like they’re moving way too fast. The music is too loud. “That can’t be true,” I say.

  “Have you done anything, said anything . . . discovered something . . . ?” Meadow asks.

  I shake my head. But of course, I know.

  I could tell her. I could spill all my secrets right now.

  “Zephyr?” Meadow is looking at me. Like I mean something. And it kills me. It really does.

  I know it’s just because she’s curious, and needs answers to justify saving me. Maybe she got in trouble. She thought it was worth it. Maybe she thought I was someone good.

  This girl would probably take her dagger and thrust it through my heart if she knew the t
ruth.

  She never has to know.

  I shake my head. I put on a good show. “I’m just a Ward,” I say to her as the swings start to slow. “I’m an orphan who got tired of living in Cortez, and that’s the only interesting thing I’ve ever done.”

  Her gray eyes hold mine like she’s looking for the lie.

  But if there’s anything I know I’m good at, it’s hiding the truth.

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  CHAPTER 27

  MEADOW

  At the end of the pier, citizens bow before the giant statue, pressing their palms to it, whispering. I watch a woman with a swollen belly waddle up. Her face is fat, like a puffer fish, and when she presses her belly to the statue, as if dedicating her baby to it, to them, I want to scream.

  Zephyr takes my hand and I let him. It is a lifeline, a distraction. He tows me away to the end of the almost deserted pier.

  I shake free and run, and when I leap off the edge, into the warm water, into silence, I am at peace. When I surface, I see him standing there on the pier, looking down at me.

  “Come on!” I call.

  I float on my back and laugh.

  Zephyr leaps. When he surfaces, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and his eyes are even greener than before.

  “I hate the ocean,” he says.

  “I think it’s the only beautiful thing we have left,” I say. “My father taught me how to swim. He tied my arms behind my back and made me stay afloat using only my legs.” I run my hands across the surface of the water. It sparkles like fire in the setting sun.

  Zephyr frowns. “Your own dad did that to you?”

  “All he cares about is teaching me how to survive. Nothing more.”

  Zephyr dives. When he resurfaces and looks back at me, he is chewing his lip. It makes him look younger, like a child. I wonder how he protects himself on the streets. Something tells me he’s street-smart, but I bet he would lose in hand-to-hand combat if it came down to it.

  “Maybe that’s just his way of showing he cares,” he says. “I wish I still had my dad.”

  “It’s better that you’re alone. It’s better that you don’t have anyone to look after but yourself.”

  “I’m not alone. I have Talan.”

  Talan. The girl with the dark hair. “Do you love her?” I ask, because I can’t help myself. I feel all jittery, waiting for his answer, and I don’t know why.

  But Zephyr laughs. “Talan is like an older sister. Or a younger one, whichever way you look at it. I’m not with her in that way. I’m not with anyone.” His eyes hold mine. We drift closer together.

  “I have a sister,” I blurt out, because it is the only thing I can think of to say without making a mess of things.

  “Tell me about her,” Zephyr says, still watching me with that look, like his eyes are seeing right into my soul.

  So I do, because talking makes me feel better. I tell him about Peri. I tell him about my mother dying, and the houseboat we live on to stay safe. As darkness falls and the pier empties above us, I tell him about the blood that runs through the streets, and how some of it is from my own dagger, my own hands.

  Zephyr reaches out, slow and gentle. He pulls me close, and studies my fearless tattoo. The nanites have nearly eaten away the scabs, and the ink has begun to show through. It looks strangely alive in the dying light. His fingers skim over the letters, and as they do, chill bumps scatter across my skin. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, “no matter what you’ve done.”

  I feel, for a second, brand-new. But I do not want to forget. I want to be focused, always alert. I look up at the sky. The sun is an orange ball of fire, dripping into the ocean like hot wax. I slowly pull away. “We should go back now. Get on the train and head home. It’s late.”

  “You’re beautiful,” Zephyr says. He moves closer. The waves rock us back and forth, and my heart hammers in my chest. His voice is velvet. His voice is saying all of the things I never thought I would hear anyone say.

  I’m not sure I want this. As he reaches for me, I swim away, head toward the shore, moving underneath the boardwalk, until I am in its shadow. The waves lap against the wooden pilings. They are covered in barnacles and seaweed. I do not deserve his kindness. My family would say that he does not deserve mine.

  I tread water as Zephyr swims toward me. I smile, but he does not.

  “There’s something I have to tell you, Meadow,” he says. “Something about me you should know. I’m not—”

  A rogue wave hits me, fast and strong. It pushes me into him. I grab his shoulders, and before I realize what is happening, his arms are around my waist. I can feel his heart hammering in time with my own.

  “We should go,” I whisper.

  It is late, and soon it will not be safe.

  We should go because I am falling, fast, and I am terrified of what that means.

  “We’ll go,” Zephyr whispers. “But I want to try something first.”

  He is so close I can almost taste him.

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  CHAPTER 28

  ZEPHYR

  Her lips are about to touch mine. So close. Finally. My head feels fuzzy, and I tell myself it’s just nerves, or the sea, rocking us back and forth.

  I look into her eyes. I see the light blue sunburst that surrounds the gray pupil. I can’t look away.

  Suddenly everything goes dark, and I’m no longer in the ocean, no longer even a part of this world.

  I’m standing in a mirrored room. I look left. I look right. I see myself, reflected a hundred times, dressed in black, fists clenched, eyes burning like fire.

  A voice calls out to me from somewhere. I whirl around, but I’m the only person in the room. “Zephyr,” the voice says again. Her voice is shimmery and bright, and it chills me to my very core.

  “Welcome to the Murder Complex, Patient Zero. Initiate Termination.”

  I’m swimming with my arms wrapped around Meadow Woodson. Sixteen. Target. Initiate Termination.

  All I want to do is kill Meadow Woodson. Sink a knife into her heart and end her feeble, undeserving life.

  Meadow Woodson. Sixteen. Target. Initiate Termination.

  I do the only thing I can do.

  I obey.

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  CHAPTER 29

  MEADOW

  Maybe I am asleep, and it is just another nightmare. I will wake up and be back on the houseboat beside Peri, having made it home on time, having kept my promise to her.

  But when the air leaves my lungs, I know that this is real. That Zephyr’s hands, no longer soft and gentle, are actually wringing my neck.

  I flail in his arms. I open my mouth like a fish out of water. I try to scream, but no sound comes out. He is killing me, lifting me over his head, out of the sea, as if I am weightless, nothing at all.

  My vision begins to tunnel.

  My father had Koi strangle me once. I am prepared for this.

  My father.

  Count to three. Relax. Now survive.

  I stretch for my dagger. I do not think about the Zephyr of moments ago. I thrust it straight down, into his shoulder. There is a gush of blood, and when I twist the blade, his right arm goes slack.

  I crash back into the waves, kick off a piling, and swim for the shore.

  He is not Zephyr anymore. He is a monster.

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  CHAPTER 30

  ZEPHYR

  I am fulfilling my destiny. This is wha
t I was made for.

  The voice urges me on. Louder and louder and louder, until that’s all I can hear.

  “Kill.

  Destroy.

  No escaping.

  No turning back.

  This is your duty.

  Purge the Earth.

  This is the Murder Complex.”

  I lunge at the target. Flux, it’s fast. A worthy opponent.

  “Please, Zephyr! Please!”

  I hate it when they beg.

  Begging is the most annoying sound in the world.

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  CHAPTER 31

  MEADOW

  Zephyr lunges at me, teeth bared, a furious roar tearing from his lips.

  “Stop!” I scream. It’s like he can’t even hear me. “Zephyr, please!”

  He grabs my left arm and I throw my right fist into his jaw. I hear the thump of the hit, but his strength is incredible, and suddenly I am flying through the air, and I slam into an old wood piling, and my back is on fire with pain. I stagger to my feet, groaning, struggling to find my bearings in the sandy shadows of the boardwalk. Where is my dagger? How is he even doing this? “Are you insane?”

  He’s sprinting for me, arms pumping, blood dripping from his shoulder. He leaps, and my head slams into the wet sand. He rolls off of me, grabs my ankles, and starts to drag me across the beach. Sand fills my mouth, my nose. I can’t breathe.

  Close your eyes. Feel your enemy’s weaknesses. I twist an ankle away and sink my foot into his groin.

  The freedom lasts long enough for me to spot my dagger at the water’s edge