“Yes, sir,” Doyle said, pulling his cell from the pocket of his suit jacket. Always the loyal servant. I wondered what Dunningham's punishment would be if he ever learned of Doyle's betrayal. Doyle was the man Dunningham trusted more than anyone.
I weighed my options. I could blurt out Doyle's secret right then and there, but that wouldn't do anything to help my situation. I needed to have a one-on-one conversation with Doyle in order for his disloyalty to be beneficial to me.
The ride to the Mill was long and quiet. The silence was only interrupted by a dinging in Dunningham's pocket—his death alerter. The device warned him of upcoming deaths. He called his assistant and told her to send the assignment to Damon. Damon was a boy who lived two houses down from me. We turned toward the Mill. The building grew larger as we approached, and so did the lump in my throat.
The carriage came to a stop. Doyle opened his door and climbed out, waiting for me to do the same. I sat frozen. The longer I prolonged this, the longer I’d live.
“Let’s go,” Doyle ordered.
I stayed put, staring straight ahead. From the corner of my eye, Dunningham turned his attention from his cell to me. I didn’t care. I was already scheduled for execution. What did I have to lose?
Apparently, Doyle wasn’t used to being ignored. He cursed and grabbed me by my arm before yanking me from the carriage. I tried to pull away from him, but he tightened his grip. Reynold climbed out with a black cloth. Before I could wonder what it was for, he wrapped it around my face, covering my eyes. I hadn’t expected to be blindfolded. Doyle dragged me toward the Mill. I supposed it was best for me not to see what was happening. My bare feet slid along the gravel. Something sharp stuck in my foot. I wanted to stop and remove it, but that wasn’t an option.
The smell of sulfur that always radiated from the Mill filled my nostrils. The air was thick, making it difficult to breathe. Dunningham coughed a few times behind me.
The texture of the ground changed to something smoother and easier on my feet. We had to be close to the building. I heard the automatic steel doors slide open. Someone pushed me inside. Several seconds later, the door closed behind us.
I sensed movement all around me. Probably the Mill workers, captured Foragers. I wondered what role they would play in the upcoming rebellion. We stopped, and a high-pitched beeping sound came from somewhere. We’d made it to the elevators. The chair was located on the third floor.
I was shoved inside and fell against someone with a large, solid chest, probably Reynold. He helped me stand upright.
I almost lost my balance as we began to move upward, but I caught myself.
A phone rang. Dunningham answered. “Yes, Hesper . . . Mm-hmm . . . Doyle, what do you feel like having for dinner?”
“Whatever you'd like is fine, sir” Doyle answered. Why did Dunningham even bother to ask him?
The elevator doors opened, and I was escorted out.
“Hesper, some nice rib eyes would be wonderful,” Dunningham said before hanging up.
Nice. They would enjoy steaks while my body rotted in the ground.
The chair was kept in a room at the end of an extremely long hallway. I remembered from the other times I had come that there were plenty of doors on each side. I'd always wanted to know what was in them. It seemed that nobody knew. I was tempted to ask Dunningham, but he would never tell me.
I tried to walk slowly, but Doyle and Dunningham wouldn't let me. Each time I fell behind, they would shove me forward.
At last we stopped, and I heard more beeping. One of the men was punching in the code that opened the door.
A robotic voice came from a speaker. “Access granted.”
I stepped inside, and the smell hit me right away. I couldn't describe the odor of the chair room, except that it made me feel sick. It smelled as if something had burnt, like flesh.
My body was pushed down into the seat. Seconds later, my handcuffs were removed and straps were tightened around my wrists, cutting off the circulation I'd recently learned I had. Someone wrapped straps around my calves, tying me to the legs of the chair.
My feet were cold on the room's metal floor. Whatever had been stuck in my foot earlier didn't hurt anymore. I didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing.
Someone strapped a cold metal helmet to my head. That was the worst part.
Doyle stood in front of me. I knew the smell of his cologne. He buckled the helmet's straps underneath my chin. The helmet was heavy and fastened too tight.
I wished someone would remove my blindfold so I could see what was going on. I wanted to know when Dunningham flipped the switch so I could be prepared.
No one spoke. The only noise came from the huge machine that would generate the electric shocks. I braced myself.
“All set,” Reynold said.
A sharp sensation formed at the top of my head. That was how it started. I clinched my teeth and squeezed my hands closed as the feeling intensified. It moved through my neck, chest, stomach, thighs, and then finally down to my feet. I shook involuntarily. I hated that part, not being in control of my own body.
The pain was excruciating, but I wouldn't scream, I wouldn't make any noise that indicated I was in pain. I remembered what Father had said about being brave and not giving them the satisfaction.
I imagined the large blue screen in front of me. Had I not been blindfolded, I would have seen the number 432 on the screen before the procedure began; I would able to watch the numbers run down, one year per second. My procedure would take at least 332 seconds, or five minutes and thirty-two seconds.
Dunningham could stop the machine at one hundred because any Grim with one hundred years or less could be killed, but if they wanted to be especially hateful, they could let it run longer. I figured Dunningham wouldn't do that. If he did, the machine could kill me. He wouldn't rob himself or his Grims of seeing a traitor's execution.
My body continued to convulse. The first time I had to go through the year-subtraction process, Mother had told me the trick was to think of something else to keep my mind off the pain. I tried to do that, but my mind kept going back to the agony.
I'd forgotten how much the process hurt. Why did we continue to incur infractions if we knew we would have to go through this? Maybe we forgot how painful it was and needed a reminder.
I thought of Keira and what she'd said about Bram crying. I knew my brother loved me. He just didn't like to show it, or he didn’t know how. I thought about my parents and how this would plague them forever. I don't remember a minor Grim ever being executed without their parents being killed along with them. At least those Grims didn't have to live with the awful memory of their child being put to death. My parents would.
I wondered if Keira would make a new best friend, one who followed the Grim Covenant and wouldn't get her into trouble.
Earlier I had said I would have given anything to be in Chase and Keira's position. But I'd changed my mind. I'd have given anything to be Human. To live in their world. Sure they lived short lives, but at least they got to live. It had to be better than this. I didn't think it was fair, seeing as I was half Human. Why couldn't I have lived in that world if I wanted?
The shocks lessened, so the process was almost over. The shocks stopped, and I immediately felt ill.
Someone stood in front of me. Doyle again. The smell of his cologne wasn't helping the nausea.
First the helmet was removed. Then the straps. Before I could stop myself, I bent over and vomited.
“No!” Doyle yelled as I unloaded. I pictured my puke covering his expensive leather shoes.
“Oh dear,” Dunningham mumbled, probably glad it wasn't him. “Well, get cleaned up. There's only thirty minutes until the execution.”
I assumed Doyle left the room. Dunningham was very punctual, and he wouldn't stall an execution for anything.
He made a call for someone to come clean up my mess.
“Are you done?” Reynold asked.
I opened my
mouth. Nothing else wanted to come out so I nodded. I longed for a glass a water to get the disgusting taste out of my mouth.
He grabbed my arm. “Listen, step over the vomit.”
My mind told my body to move, but my body wouldn't listen. “I can't.” I was too weak to move.
Someone else entered the room.
“Let him clean it up,” Dunningham said. “Then you'll have to carry her.”
I heard water swishing around. The smell of bleach, ammonia, and some other chemical filled my nostrils. I needed to sneeze, but it wouldn't come out.
After a minute, Reynold slid his arm under my thighs and lifted me from the chair. “Do not puke on me.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t make any promises.
I rested my head against one of his broad shoulders as he carried me to the carriage. He placed me on the back seat with Dunningham, and then we were off to the square.
My head felt too heavy for my neck to hold up so I leaned it against the window. “How are you going to do it?” I asked Dunningham once the carriage had taken off.
“What?”
“How are you going to kill me?”
“First of all, I'm not going to kill you. You've killed yourself, my dear. I am simply carrying out the rules of the Covenant. That's the problem with you rebellious Grims. You knowingly break the rules and then act like I'm the bad guy when I have to inflict punishment. As for how . . . we'll let that be a surprise for now. Whatever it is, it will be a death befitting a Grim who has betrayed her colony.”
I sighed. He probably wouldn't answer my next question either, but I figured I'd give it a shot. “Why did you forgive my mother's crime?”
“And we'll stop talking now.” I sensed the annoyance in his voice.
“I know what she had to do to keep us from getting executed, and I think it's disgusting. You should have just put us to death.”
Surprisingly, Dunningham chuckled. “If you're thinking of making a similar arrangement, I might have considered it had your execution not already been scheduled and announced. It's too late to turn back now. Pity.”
How many Grims had he made this “arrangement” with? I pressed myself against the carriage's door, trying to get as far away from the vile creature as possible.
Chapter 37
The carriage came to a stop. Reynold opened my door, and I stepped out. I was dizzy, but I was determined to walk on my own. He wrapped my cloak around me and lifted its hood over my head.
He pushed me ahead. We were on concrete now, which was not easy on my feet.
“Hold on,” he said after a few moments, “there’s steps.”
That meant we had made it to the stage. Every Grim in Nowhere had to be standing in the square watching, but I heard not a sound. They wouldn't be permitted to speak until Dunningham told them to.
Reynold led me up the wooden steps and across the stage. At last, he removed the blindfold. At first I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the light, then I was awed by the sea of black hoods standing in front of me. I had never witnessed a gathering from this perspective. Everyone looked solemn. No one looked happy to be there, as they had in previous gatherings to witness the execution of traitors. Maybe because my father was popular and respected in Farrington.
My family stood in the front row. They were required to stand there. Dorian looked down. I couldn't see his face since it was covered by his hood. Bram scowled, as usual. He looked at me, made eye contact, and then looked down like Dorian. Mother held a black lace handkerchief to her face to keep herself from crying out loud. Her mother had given her that handkerchief, and one day she would have probably passed it on to me. Father had one arm around her, holding her up. He looked at me, gave me a small smile, and nodded.
After seeing my family, I looked around the platform for the first time. To the left of me was Dunningham's podium, where he prepared to make his speech. To the right of me were the gallows. I was being hung. I looked at the rickety wooden frame with a noose hanging from it. The gallows had been built hundreds of years ago, but it had never been replaced because the structure was sacred.
I should have known better than to wish for a quick painless death. I had done a horrible thing to my fellow Grims. I wondered how long I would hang in that noose before I died.
From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Doyle walking onto the platform, wearing a crisp black suit and polished leather shoes. He stood by the steps with his arms folded against his chest.
I looked across the crowd of black hoods and wondered what Dunstan and the Foragers had planned. He'd said this would be the perfect time, since we'd all be in the same place, so what was going to happen? I hoped my family and friends wouldn't be hurt.
Dunningham took a sip of water from the platinum goblet on his podium. “Dear fellow Grims, we are gathered here today to witness the execution of a traitor. Naomi Grim is charged and convicted of a grave crime: interfering with death. Now she must satisfy death's appetite by giving her own life. Let this be a message to you all. Do not go against the Covenant.”
Another Watcher, not Reynold, led me over to the gallows. I spotted Keira and Chase. Their families stood together behind mine. Mother sobbed loudly as I walked up the steps of the gallows platform.
“Silence!” Dunningham bellowed.
Father tightened his grip around Mother's shoulders, and I hated Dunningham more than I already did for yelling at her when she was going through the worst moment of her life.
I stepped onto a large wooden block. The Watcher removed my hood and slid the rope around my neck. It was rough and coarse against my skin.
I took one last look at my city. The beautiful buildings and wonderful shops. Even standing in the midst of every Grim in my colony, I felt so alone. No one could do anything to save me, like I had saved the kids at Kennedy High. Not even my parents.
Dunningham wasn't happy. The crowd wasn't as excited as they usually were for an execution. He held his fist in the air. “Long live the Grim!”
The crowd repeated the chant, but not with the usual fervor. Dunningham had to repeat it four more times before he was satisfied. I took a deep breath and waited for someone to kick the block from underneath my feet. Everyone watched in silent anticipation.
A caw came from somewhere above me. I lifted my head in time to witness a black raven soaring over the gallows. I would have given anything to become that bird so I could fly away from my impending death. The raven drifted across the slate-colored sky until it became a small black dot and then disappeared.
“Long live the hybrids!” a man's voice shouted from somewhere.
Heads turned, searching to see where the chant had come from. A worried murmur ran through the crowd.
“Long live the hybrids!” Moore stood on the roof of Brickman's. Everyone's attention was drawn to him.
Moore was only the distraction. I was probably the first to see the others. Several other Forager men, some I recognized and some I didn't, appeared on the roofs of the stores and restaurants that surrounded the square. They held bows and arrows, which they aimed at the crowd. Something whizzed by my head, and I looked back to see the Watcher standing next to me fall back and land on the platform. An arrow protruded from his chest. He wasn't going to die. He had too many years left, but he was horribly injured.
It only took two seconds for it to happen. The square broke out into the most chaotic scene I'd ever witnessed.
The Watcher attempted to pull the arrow from his chest, but it wouldn't budge. Several Watchers whisked Dunningham from the stage, while others aimed the silencers they always kept tucked in their jackets at the Foragers on the roofs. The Grims in the crowd ducked, trying to avoid being struck by arrows.
No one was paying any attention to me. I pulled the rope from my neck and sprang from the platform. As I jumped from the stage onto the concrete, something caught hold of my cloak. I turned to see Doyle pulling me toward him. I struggled to get out of the cloak, but he grabbed my arm before I co
uld.
I looked him dead in the eye. I wasn't the least bit afraid of him. He couldn't kill me himself. My death was supposed to be a public execution. An example to the others of what would happen if they broke the rules. Dunningham would flip if Doyle took it upon himself to kill me with no one watching.
But most importantly, I knew his secret. “I know about you. You've been working with them. You go to the Outskirts to see Dunstan.
He looked surprised for a moment, then he quickly recovered. “I don't know what the hell you're talking about and you don't either.”
“Let me go, or I tell Dunningham everything. He'll hang you right next to me.”
He thought for a moment, then he let me go. I sprinted away and glanced back. He stood there, watching me.
Many of the Litropolites pushed and threw punches at other Grims. They would pay for that later.
Grims grabbed and held on to their children. Several fights broke out, and Grims had dispersed, running into stores and homes for safety. The Grim men were caught off guard. Aside from the Watchers, none of them had weapons on them.
I pulled my hood over my head and dodged through the crowd. I wanted to see if my family was okay, but I had to be smart. None of them could be killed, but I could. I had fewer than a hundred years. I was mortal now, and I had to get the hell out of there before I was captured again.
Chapter 38
I ducked low and raced through the crowds of screaming Grims trying to get to safety. Once I was out of the square, everything was calm, but I couldn't stop running. Fate had given me a second chance at life, and I couldn't risk getting caught again.
A woman slammed into me, and we both fell to the ground. She looked at me briefly. It was Samar, one of Mother's friends. She stared at me, wide-eyed. I helped her to her feet and then we continued in the directions we had been running.
I hurried through the streets of Farrington and through the stream. Still weak from the chair, I moved strictly on my will to live. I knew how the Fated felt when they fought for one final breath.
Naomi Grim: The Final Breath Chronicles Book One Page 23
