Z 2135

by Wright, David W.

  Adam wished Cadets were allowed to carry shock sticks in the street so he could belt Michael on the head.

  “No! Why would you think that?”

  “Are you kidding?” Michael peered down at Adam. “You left in a huff, angry and yelling. Like we were the bad guys.”

  “But you are the bad guys!”

  Michael wasn’t getting it. Most of City Watch’s tasks revolved around monitoring, anticipating and ending Underground activity. Maybe there would be more chances to fix things in The Dark Quarters if there weren’t so much time wasted stopping people in The City’s way.

  Michael shook his head at Adam, practically wagging his finger. “No, you still don’t get it. They’ve blinded you.”

  The Chief had already told him to anticipate this, to be wary of Michael’s tactics. He had warned him that his old friend would use all the words he was using right now. It was the way of the serpent, to confuse you until you were suddenly acting on its behalf.

  Adam wished he had ratted Michael out when given the chance. But he had chosen friendship over allegiance to The State. Friendship with a terrorist.

  “Whatever,” Adam said, turning from Michael, not wanting to fight. He started walking away.

  From behind Michael said, “You know I’m right.”

  Adam spun back around. “No, I don’t know you’re right, Michael. All I know is that you don’t get it. From ratting on my sister to hanging out with The Underground, you’re obviously the one who’s confused, not me. I know up from down and right from wrong. I know Municipal from The Edge.”

  Michael looked back at Adam, surprised. His body swayed back as if Adam’s words hung with weight on his body.

  Adam said, “I can’t even pretend to get why you think The City’s persecuting you, but I don’t think you and I will ever see things the same. I don’t want to get you into trouble, so … so I don’t think we can be friends anymore.”

  “I can change your mind.”

  “How?” Adam asked.

  “I need you to come with me.”

  Adam didn’t like that.

  He had just told Michael that they couldn’t be friends, and now Michael wanted him to go somewhere, away from the street? If The Underground was willing to kill kids—which they were known to do—and of course they were willing to murder Watchers, maybe they would be willing to off a Cadet like Adam. A Cadet who knew at least a few of their faces.

  Adam had endangered himself by going to the first meeting. No way he was willing to go again.

  While Adam wasn’t convinced that Michael would try to hurt him, he had zero doubt that others in The Underground would do something to punish a Whitewasher.

  “I won’t go to a meeting,” he said. “I can’t. I don’t want to be around you people any more. And I won’t lie to my superiors. It’s best if you and I just stop talking right now.”

  “Come back to my apartment, Adam. Not for long. I just want to show you something. You’ll thank me. I promise.”

  Adam didn’t trust Michael, but he also knew he shouldn’t say no. If Michael was a bad guy, Adam could stay aware like he was taught in Survival, and defend himself. Watchers sometimes had to put themselves in danger. That was the job, and the task the Chief had assigned him.

  Keller said that sometimes you had to be around bad people to do the right thing.

  If he went back with Michael, he could find out more about what was happening, then report it to the Chief and make up for everything he failed to say earlier. If Michael wasn’t a bad guy and really did have something important to show Adam, then Adam could be open-minded enough to listen to his friend.

  “OK,” Adam said. “But if anything bad happens, we can’t be friends anymore.”

  If anything bad happens, he doesn’t want to be friends.

  They began walking the few miles or so to Michael’s one bedroom in The Back.

  There was nothing terribly bad about The Back, but there was nothing good either. The clustered apartments weren’t as old as those at The Edge or as rundown, but they were on their way to forgotten, only around two-thirds occupied as The State neatened its ratios and built out better parts of The City. Even with its reduced population, the apartments in The Back were small and crammed together.

  As they passed under an arch that opened into a courtyard behind the 14-story building where Michael lived, an orb floated by. Adam made sure to look and make eye contact.

  I hope someone’s watching, just in case things go bad. They can come save me.

  They walked through the rear entrance of the building, climbed seven floors, and stopped just outside of Michael’s apartment in the dimly lit hallway.

  Michael put his hand on Adam’s chest and whispered, “I’ll go to the bathroom first. Soon as I come out, you go in after me. Turn on the pad inside—I’ll leave it on the sink. Whatever you do, do not talk about what you see when you get back in the living room. TVs have eyes, and I mean it. They watch us.”

  Adam’s heart was racing. Something in Michael’s tone said he was telling the truth. Or at least he believed he was.

  “Who watches us?” Adam asked.

  “City Watch. How can you not know that, Adam? You’re inside. Don’t they tell you the extent of their surveillance? How can you be a part of the system and not know what they’re doing? Don’t you see how much worse that makes it?”

  Michael’s voice had risen well above a whisper. Adam felt like someone might hear them.

  Still, he had to know more. Adam whispered, “What is it you think they’re doing?”

  “Like I said, Adam, they watch us, and I mean watch us. There are rooms under The City, large ones, filled with people, all of them staring at feeds. Their only job—all day long—is to keep on watching us.”

  That’s impossible.

  “How would you know this?” Adam asked.

  “I just know,” Michael said, hardly a good answer.

  If that was really happening at City Watch, Adam would know. Rooms like that would need lots of people. Where were all those people? They sure weren’t sharing the dining hall with him and the other Cadets. Michael might be right about some things, even a lot of things, but when he was wrong and refused to admit he might be— like right now—he sounded crazy, and that made it hard to believe him about anything.

  “Fine,” Adam said, not wanting to argue. He had to get inside Michael’s apartment, because that was the only way he could get back out on the street, then to the Academy, where he could put the night behind him.

  Inside, Michael went straight to the kitchen sink, leaving Adam to close the front door behind them. He poured two cups of water, and filled them with ice from the fridge. He handed one to Adam, drank from the other until it was empty, then excused himself to the bathroom.

  “Be right back,” he said.

  Adam said, “OK,” then sipped from his glass as he looked around Michael’s apartment—tiny, but neat.

  Adam had been to Michael’s a few times, and always thought the place seemed sad. Not just because he lived in a nearly empty building in the partly abandoned Back, or because it was small, with only one room, a tiny bathroom, a couch, a small kitchen table, and a long mat on the floor for a bed, with a trunk at its foot. No books, games, plants, or any of the things that proved someone lived there.

  Michael did have a Boxie, and the Boxie made Adam gasp. They weren’t technically illegal, but officially, Boxies didn’t exist. He’d heard of them plenty. Everyone had. They were small black boxes, preloaded with hundreds and sometimes thousands of movies. You never knew how many movies your Boxie would come with, or what kind they would be. Adam didn’t know anyone who actually had one, but he had known lots of people, even at Chimney Rock, who knew someone who knew someone who did.

  Adam wondered why Michael’s house seemed so spare. The trunk at the foot of his bed might have some of his stuff, but even that couldn’t hold very much. Maybe he had his stuff hidden somewhere because he was afraid someone
might break into his place and steal stuff. Or maybe Michael was really just a sad person who found his only joy in the arcade, and now, these days, palling around with The Underground.

  Adam set his glass on the counter and plopped down on the couch. The TV came on automatically, as most TVs were programmed to do when they detected someone.

  Maybe that’s the camera they use to watch us?

  I can’t see it, though. It would have to be very small.

  The TV was recessed into the wall, the same kind that came with every City apartment, exactly the same as the one in Adam’s apartment growing up. Even the recesses in The Edge houses were the same size. The only place Adam had ever seen them different was in the high apartments. Of course, The City itself had massive screens everywhere, like at the Academy, pubs, and arcades.

  The Reels were broadcasting weather. Adam wondered if Michael had weather set as his favorite channel. He could see him being that boring.

  Adam looked up at the screen, squinting as he wondered again where the camera was. He couldn’t find it if there was one.

  The weather report spilled into the day’s Darwin Games report, perking Adam’s interest. He hadn’t been paying attention to the most recent round at all, at least not live. Of course he couldn’t help but hear the latest news amongst the Cadets. It was all some of them wanted to talk about. Adam probably would have watched The Games more, if he wasn’t spending so much time with Keller.

  He supposed he would have to make time for The Games, just to keep up and be able to carry on conversations with others, but the true magic of such a program was gone, and Adam suspected it would be forever. Ever since Ana was thrown inside, and killed, he couldn’t find any interest in The Games. They made him sick. He was good at pretending they didn’t, but they always did. He held his eyes to the TV now, though, seeing if this time might be any different.

  The video showed an old man, he must’ve been at least 60, running from three zombies, trying to reach a ladder leading to one of the platforms spread throughout The Barrens.

  Somehow, he managed to reach the ladder and climb to the top. He was about to raise himself to the platform when a fat man with red hair sat up on the platform, suddenly revealing himself. He stabbed the old man in the head, then pushed him down to the zombies below.

  The cameras cut to a studio audience reaction. People were laughing—laughing at an old helpless man as he was eaten by zombies.

  People can be so cruel.

  Kirk Kirkman’s voice piped over the replay, “Whoops, looks like another player down thanks to sneaky Fat Matt who has somehow made the Final Four! Anyone who bet large on Fat Matt is raking in the winnings. Could he go all the way? Stay tuned, citizens!”

  Adam stared at the screen, disgusted.

  Michael came out of the bathroom, then went to the couch and sat beside Adam, eyes on the TV. “Did I miss anything?” he asked as if he cared.

  “Yeah, it’s going to rain tomorrow,” Adam said, standing. “I have to go to the bathroom,” he said.

  Michael nodded, acting as if he was absorbed in The Darwins recap. “Thanks for sharing.”

  Adam stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. He immediately saw the black tablet sitting on the sink. He recognized the kind—a Nova, same kind the Cadets from the high apartments usually had. They cost more than twice what the Omegas did, the kind Adam was issued. He wondered where Michael got enough credits for a Nova. The device was worth as much as everything else in his apartment added together … and multiplied twice.

  Maybe that’s why Michael didn’t have anything else in his place? Maybe he used all his credits to buy the best device for all of his entertainment. Maybe he synced it with his Boxie and could see all those movies wherever he went. Maybe Michael wasn’t as boring or sad as Adam thought.

  Adam picked up the Nova. It made him nervous—he thought he might break it and then not know what to do.

  He stared at the screen for a half second, then pressed the large circle on the Nova’s center—a sideways triangle that said PLAY.

  The screen flickered and footage started to play. The footage was recorded by an orb floating over the roof of a tall building where a bunch of scary looking men were surrounding a guy and beating him with a chain.

  At first, Adam thought it was something from The Games, but the setting didn’t look like The Barrens, or anywhere in or near City 6, not even The Dark Quarters. The horizon was crammed with buildings, but they were in horrible shape, the worst Adam had ever seen—crumbling and tilting like something from one of the arcade box games.

  The men were launching fists and feet into the fallen man over and over, knocking his body hard enough to make it blur and lurch. Adam couldn’t see who the person was or why Michael had insisted that he watch the video. The footage was too grainy and blurry, until the orb dipped lower and the camera became clearer.

  Adam watched as the victim came into focus.

  He gasped, nearly dropping the Nova.

  Liam!

  Adam stared, without any idea what he was seeing, heart pounding for a man who couldn’t be in danger … because he was already dead.

  Then Adam saw his sister, standing on the edge of the building like she was going to jump.

  When did this happen?

  Why didn’t they show it on The Games?

  Then the orb attacked the men, blasting them into nothingness before hovering down to the rooftop.

  The orb footage suddenly ended, and a man’s voice filled the bathroom.

  “This is Mr. X from The Underground, broadcasting raw footage captured last night: proof that Ana Lovecraft and Liam Harrow are not dead. The City has lied to you yet again. Can’t say we’re surprised though, eh?”

  The video ended, and the play circle popped back up.

  Adam swallowed and pressed the triangle to see the impossible again.

  CHAPTER 41 — JONAH LOVECRAFT

  As they approached the first checkpoint, a booth with a gate and two City Watchers who were checking vehicles, Jonah felt his heartbeat speed up.

  Maya looked at him with arched eyebrows, and Jonah realized he was telegraphing his fear.

  “Relax,” she said. “No one inside worries about much of anything. You look like that and we’re both dead. I’m willing to help, but I don’t want to die, so you need to get control of yourself, now. Think happy thoughts, count backward from one hundred, or do whatever will make you calmer before we hit the checkpoint.”

  Jonah looked up. There were three vehicles ahead of them.

  “OK,” he said, dampening panic even as the first of the three vehicles was waved through.

  Two more to go.

  “It’s simple,” Maya reassured him. “We’ll pass through two gates before we’re actually inside The City. The first checkpoint’s purpose is to draw your blood. Just a prick to make sure you’re not infected. This takes less than a minute, and you have nothing to worry about. Sutherland isn’t stupid, so that means you’re clean. The next gate is an X-ray and questions—they just want to make sure there aren’t any extra bodies stashed inside the vehicle, or weapons. Again, we’re good. I’m sure you weren’t stupid enough to bring a weapon. If you did, now’s the time to tell me. The Watcher at the second gate will ask you some questions, specifically about your business in City 1. He may or may not scan your ID chip, depending on his mood. Say nothing unless directly spoken to. If you are, and you probably will be, don’t say anything stupid. You’ll have to hand him the medical bag, and hope to God that whoever secured it did his job and it passes. The second checkpoint is the only one to worry about, but if we’re caught, it will mean death for me and worse for you.”

  They drove through the first checkpoint, as easily as Maya promised. Jonah rolled his window down, felt a tiny prick; then less than a minute later a white light in front of them turned green and the truck was moved forward on the belt toward the next gate, about a dozen truck lengths in front of them. On the other side Jonah saw
a trio of trucks leaving The City, all in a row, one behind the other. He wondered if the trucks had dropped supplies and were returning to their cities empty or if City 1 was sending something to somewhere. He wondered if it was harder to get out of The City than it was to get in.

  Jonah figured The City probably never exported anything, except misery.

  “Any better?”

  Jonah nodded, even if he was only marginally relieved.

  “Good,” she said, “because it’s showtime. Remember, don’t say anything stupid.”

  Maya sparked the truck and went forward a bit, now that the truck was off the conveyor and slowly rolling toward the second gate. She lowered her window, laughing hysterically as if Jonah had just detonated the funniest joke ever.

  Jonah laughed while looking at the City 1 Watcher, nodding and smiling like he wasn’t scared out of his skin.

  The Watcher looked nothing like a City 6 Watcher. He wore a loose-fitting, white collared shirt, perfectly tailored pants, and a warm smile. The only indication that he was City Watch was the belt with the shock stick hanging loosely from the man’s left hip.

  “Hey there, Amy,” the man said.

  “Heya, Percy,” Maya said. “I’m so glad to finally get off the road. Can’t wait to get a nap. Feel like I’ll sleep nine days when I do.”

  “Well, it’s good to see you again. You’re the brightest spot of my week so far.” The guard smiled, then glanced toward the truck’s rear. “What are you bringing this week?”

  “Only the latest linens and garments from City 6.”

  Percy smiled and gestured toward Jonah.

  “What about him?”

  “Well, in addition to him making it hard to drive all the way here from City 6 without peeing on my leg on account of him always cutting up like Dr. Chuckles, Dr. William Baker here is delivering medicine and test samples to Dr. Hollier. His truck died en route from City 6, so I was asked to bring him along. They really ought to spring for some better trucks for the other cities, ya know?”

  “Right,” Percy said. “It’s not like they don’t have the money.”