The Murder Complex

by Lindsay Cummings

  “You’re wrong,” I cut her off. “You are. But this isn’t just about us. It’s not just about your family. It’s about all the Wards out there. It’s about the Leeches, controlling us, holding us in the Shallows. Killing us all off, one by one. We might die. Your family might die. But . . . it’s worth a try, isn’t it?

  She slumps down on the floor. Her eyes shine with tears. She swallows and looks at me. “It would be easier to give myself up.”

  “We’re in this together, Meadow, you and me. Until they rip us apart, and even then, I’ll fight.”

  I watch her eyes flick from me to the exit tunnel and back.

  “You’re not a machine, like me,” I whisper. “It’s okay to be afraid. For once in your life, just be human.”

  Finally, her shoulders sag. She lets out a deep breath, and her tears fall fast and hard. I want to wrap my arms around her, but I can’t, so I hold her hands in my own while she sobs into my shoulder.

  After a while, she settles down with her head on my lap, looking up at me. Her face is full of a darkness so deep that it sucks all the light from her eyes. It’s all anger and hate, and a million emotions twisted and tied up into one, but these aren’t meant for me.

  “Tomorrow,” I whisper. “Just wait until tomorrow, and we can both get the revenge we deserve.”

  “Are you afraid?” she asks me. I have to look deep inside of myself for the truth. And I realize that for the first time, I’m not. If I die, I die. At least I’ll know I died fighting for something right, and the girl I love will be beside me. “No,” I whisper. “I’m ready.”

  “Good,” Meadow says, as she closes her eyes to sleep. “Because tomorrow we kill them all.”

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  CHAPTER 75

  MEADOW

  I wake to the sound of Orion’s laugh.

  Everything dances in the torchlight, strange shadows that, today, make everyone’s faces look menacing.

  “You ready for this?” Sketch asks me. She is drawing lines on her face with white paint. The patterns are beautiful, in a way, and for some reason, I think Koi would like this girl.

  “War paint,” she says. “People used to do this, I think. To get ready for battle.”

  Battle. Today we are going into battle.

  Orion and Rhone call us all together. Zephyr has a gun at his hip, I have a crossbow slung over my shoulder, and my dagger, and Sketch has knives strapped to a vest, her legs, her arms. They run over the building codes with me again. We all look down at hand-drawn blueprints from Orion’s journal. I have the entire layout memorized. “The holding cells and the Motherboard are in the same wing. You’ll stick to the air ducts,” Orion says. “Once you’re done, the only way out is back the way you came. Stay quiet or you’re dead, you got that?”

  Sketch laughs. “We’re dead the second we set foot in that place.”

  Beside me, Zephyr crosses and uncrosses his arms.

  Rhone draws a line on the map, through the air ducts. “The building is bigger than it looks from the outside. We’ve got a route, and you’ll stick to it. The Motherboard is here” —he circles a room at the back of the building— “and the Protector’s going to be with it. Unfortunately, the air ducts don’t lead right into that room. So . . . you’ll have to find a way down, kick some Initiative ass, and get to it.”

  “Or die trying.” Sketch grins, and a part of me thinks she wants to die in there, really craves it.

  It is Zephyr that asks the question none of us focused on. “So . . . how do we get inside the building? Are we going in through the Perimeter exit, in the back?”

  This time, it is Orion who answers. “It’s too heavily fortified. We keep eyes on all the Zoms, all the time. The Initiative does, too. The only way in is through. And lucky for you, Z, we’ve brought in someone to help, someone I think you’ll be happy to see.”

  I hear footsteps, and something being dragged across the floor. “She’s a fighter, this one,” one of the men holding her says, pulling the bag off her head. I see her bright, baby-blue eyes. My heart sinks to my toes.

  “Talan.” Zephyr breathes.

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  CHAPTER 76

  ZEPHYR

  “Oh thank God.” Talan falls into my arms. I crush her to my chest.

  I’m so relieved that she’s alive that I don’t notice for a while that she’s actually crying. Talan, crying. Her right eye is all swollen and purple, so fat that she can barely open it.

  “You smell like death,” Talan says to me, sniffing my torn shirt, and her voice is still her voice, but I push her back and look her over, checking her arms, her hands, her neck, to make sure she’s okay.

  “Did they hurt you? Did they do this to you?”

  “Stars, no,” Talan says. She winks at me. “This is from that sad sack of a Reserve boy who always tries to get into my pants. I gave him a good show this time, Zeph. You should have seen it.”

  “They had a bag over your head,” I say, but she just shrugs.

  “They also gave me fifty Creds to come here. Hell, they could’ve tied me up and thrown me out to sea for that much.”

  Reckless. So damn reckless.

  I can’t believe she agreed to go with these strange men, with a bag over her head, for a measly 50 Creds.

  “We’ve been using Wards for a long time,” Rhone says to all of us, scratching the dark stubble on his chin. “They take Creds to do jobs, they keep it secret, and the best part is, the Initiative doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the unprogrammed ones like Talan, here.”

  “Easy, boss,” Sketch says, when I clench my fists and wrap my arm tighter around Talan. “Don’t make a Zom angry.”

  For the rest of the day, we sit around the fire and go over the plan. It gets old fast, because Meadow keeps making everyone repeat the steps, and Talan won’t stop talking, and Orion won’t stop talking, and I kind of want to blow my ears off. And out of nowhere it hits me. I’m part of a family. It’s a broken one, and it’s not what I expected. But it’s real.

  We eat a full meal. Seagull, and dried rations and roots. Orion even brings out an old, dusty bottle of whiskey, which we all take a sip of. It burns like fire, and I wish I hadn’t ever tasted it. Talan laughs, and Meadow holds my hand, and Sketch puts war paint on all of our faces.

  It all ends when Orion tells us that the Night Siren has gone off. We make our way slowly out of the Cave, and a part of me is pretty sure that I’ll never come back.

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  CHAPTER 77

  MEADOW

  I have smelled death for as long as I can remember.

  It is all over the streets. Always, the scent in the air like a thick fog that causes you to turn and go the other direction once it hits you, to cover your mouth and wipe your watering eyes as the mourners wail in the streets.

  But I have never smelled it as strongly as I do now, buried three bodies deep beside Zephyr and Sketch in the body collection cart.

  Orion and Rhone zipped us up in plastic body bags. They took us to the edge of the Disposal Road and set us down in the street.

  Once, two Initiative soldiers came by, but Orion handled it with ease. “Keep walking, boys, these are your fallen comrades. Find those runaways and bring justice to the cause!”

  Talan came after a while, pushing a cart. Orion and Rhone unzipped us from the bags, helped us inside the cart, and we were off without anyone suspecting a thing.

  “Hey.” I hear Talan’s voice now, muffled by the heavy tarp and the corpses. “Hungry? I got a full load today. But it’ll cost ya . . . ”

  One w
rong move and she could screw up everything. But I hear the beep of the lock, and the wheels of the cart wobble underneath me again as Talan pushes into the building.

  I try not to breathe as the corpse beside me lolls against my cheek, matted hair pressed up against my skin like bloody strands of hay. I try not to think about how she died. But I do know why. And I’ll do everything in my power to stop it.

  I run the plan through in my head. Talan pushes the cart into the furnace room. When she lifts the tarp, I use Zephyr’s gun to shoot out the cameras.

  Sketch creates a diversion so Talan can run.

  We have seconds to get inside the air duct.

  Tap, tap, tap. Three kicks to the side of the cart. It means there are no guards at the furnace room door. I hear the lock click-whirr open. Then a clang. The cart begins to move again. My heart slams against my chest.

  Zephyr’s fingers squeeze mine, and I remember he is here. Sketch, too.

  The cart stops again, and I can hear the roar of the furnace, swear I feel the heat of it licking up the sides of the old cart.

  Talan lifts the tarp. I hear the whoosh and the heat hits me, searing into me like I’m a marshmallow roasting above the flames.

  I tell myself to breathe. When the body is heaved off of me, I start to sit up.

  But there is a loud clang. The sound of the furnace room door being opened again. I drop back down. Zephyr and Sketch do, too. Talan looks down at us with wide eyes.

  “Talan Banner? 45320?” a gruff voice barks above the noise of the furnace. My heart is slamming in my chest and I know he can see me. One move, even a single breath from any of us, and everything will be over before it even had the chance to begin.

  “Uh, yeah,” Talan says, and her fingers close over my ankle.

  “Your partner isn’t with you.”

  “No skitz, buddy,” she says, and I feel a flush of respect for her blatant disrespect.

  “You know where he is?”

  “Isn’t that your job?” She snorts. Beautiful and rebellious. Loyal to Zephyr. My insides swell with a nervous joy.

  “Then you won’t mind if I stick around until he shows up.”

  “He’s not coming, but sure. Stay as long as you want. The scent shouldn’t bother you. Essence of Initiative, right?”

  I hear the solidity of the slap as his hand meets her face. Her fingers leave my ankle as she staggers back.

  “You’re a pathetic little homeless slut. Yeah, I’ve heard about the things you do,” he laughs. “Get on with it.” He backs away. He’s watching, I’m sure. Just waiting for her to screw up.

  I slowly open my eyes. Talan is looking down at me. A red lash marks her pale cheek, and her wicked expression tells me that everything is about to change. I shake my head to stop her, but it is far too late.

  “Hey!” she yells over her shoulder. “Hey, can you help me?”

  What is she doing? I glance at Zephyr and Sketch, and their blood-streaked faces are just as panicked as mine must be.

  The guard groans loudly. “Oh, I’ll help you, all right,” he says.

  Talan looks at us and winks. Zephyr, Sketch, and I rise to a sitting position in the cart.

  And then the guard is standing beside her. “Good for nothing— . . . ” His mouth forms a perfect O. He looks directly into my wide eyes. “What the . . . ” His hand slides to the weapon attached to his belt. But he’s out of time.

  Because one of Sketch’s knives meets his throat.

  Blood splatters. The metallic scent surges up my nostrils as Talan opens the door of the furnace and the flames lick out at us. The guard staggers forward and she steps to the side, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

  “Go, Meadow, go!” Zephyr grabs my arm and pulls me out of the cart. All I can hear is the roar of the furnace, the sputtering, choking coughs of the guard as blood fountains from his throat.

  Zephyr tosses me the gun, remembering the plan although it is already too late.

  I turn in a fast circle, letting bullets soar from the barrel into every last camera in the room. It’s silent for one moment and we stand here, frozen. In seconds, everything has gone wrong.

  The alarms begin to wail.

  The last thing I see before we hoist ourselves into the air duct is the door of the furnace room flying open. Guards race in. Zephyr slides the vent panel closed before they can get a glimpse of us. We stare through the slits in silence.

  The guards close in on Talan. Sketch fights off two others. Talan falls to the floor, laughing hysterically, as they beat her with their clubs.

  “Arden!” she screams. “Arden!” They bludgeon her skull in with a club, and they drag her limp body to the furnace.

  I hear Sketch yell, see her knives flashing, but there is nothing she can do.

  I hold in my own scream as Zephyr pulls me back into the darkness.

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  CHAPTER 78

  ZEPHYR

  The grief hits me like a rogue wave.

  My friend. My best friend.

  “Dead. She’s dead because of me.”

  “We have to keep going, Zephyr,” Meadow whispers behind me. “It’s what she’d want us to do. Sketch is buying us time. We have to do this. For Talan. Go left.”

  We crawl, sliding on our bellies, through the cool metal.

  They must be searching for us. But they won’t find us. We’re invisible until we decide we don’t want to be, and then we’ll drop from the sky and destroy them all.

  Their blood is going to stain the floors, but no matter how much we spill, it’s never going to bring back Talan. The anger starts rising in me like fire, the flames licking through me so hot I want to scream.

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  CHAPTER 79

  MEADOW

  We are painfully slow.

  The worst part is the sirens. The wails travel through the metal like the moans of dead spirits, echoing and ringing so that my eardrums feel like they are going to explode.

  They could find us at any moment. They could start sending bullets through the ceiling, and we would have nowhere to run. Every so often I think I hear a scream. I think it is Sketch, that they are torturing her, that she will be dead soon.

  Finally, a man’s voice comes over some sort of loud speaker, crackling throughout the air ducts. “We have your friend,” he says. “If you come peacefully, we won’t kill her.”

  Sketch.

  “They’re going to kill her anyway,” Zephyr whispers. “Even if we do come to them.”

  I nod. Everything has gone wrong so fast. “What now?”

  Zephyr shrugs. I can barely see his face, but the darkness cannot hide the pain in his voice. “We can’t go back.”

  We come to a fork. I know that left will take us past the Equipment room. Right leads past the SPC room. All the ducts lead in zigzags, but eventually, we’ll get to the back of the building. To the Motherboard. To the cells, where my family is. We should go left. It is the faster way. But there are secrets I want to discover.

  So I make the choice. “Right,” I whisper.

  It is what my father would want me to do.

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  CHAPTER 80

  ZEPHYR

  I don’t want to look.

  But when Meadow gently lifts one of the slats of the air vent open, there’s no other choice. I slide over next to her and look down.

  At first, the room seems totally normal. Plain white walls and tile floors, a row of computer screens embedded in a long silver table. There are a few Leeches sitting on padded chairs, talking in low voices, their fingers
flying across the tablets.

  I see the glass wall that splits the room in two. On the other side is a small boy.

  His head is shaved.

  He is surrounded by mirrors.

  “Your mom and I were in this room. I think your aunt was sitting where those Leeches are now,” I whisper to Meadow.

  Flux.

  The boy sits cross-legged on the floor with his back to the Leeches. He’s chained to the wall. A black tattoo marks his bald head, and an X marks the back of his neck.

  “What are they doing to him?” I breathe, and I can feel Meadow shrug beside me.

  The boy’s Catalogue Number puckers as he speaks, and a tiny little squeak of a voice can be heard on the other side of the glass.

  “I have to go potty!”

  One of the Leeches presses a button. “Just a short while longer, C87,” he says. The boy shakes his head.

  “But I have to go now.”

  “You’re going to have to hold it. We have a very big assignment for you.”

  I wonder if they still have the red button and the blue button. The boy slumps, and that massive black tattoo makes me flinch. I touch my head. It’s like I’m staring down at my own past, and I want to puke.

  Meadow shifts beside me.

  “My mother had a picture of this room,” she whispers. “We should go.”

  But for some reason I can’t move. A memory is calling my name, begging me to let it in. I’ve got to focus. I turn my attention back to the white room. A Leech produces a key card from around his neck.

  “I swear, man, if we would just turn all the Wards into Patients, we wouldn’t have to go through all this fluxing testing.” He swipes his card through a slit in the table before him. And presses a button.