It was a dream. A long one. A safe one.
He lay back on the grassy knoll. The grass tickled his shoulders. “If I take the needle, we’ll be together,” he said. “I won’t have to dream anymore.”
“If you take the needle, you’ll never see me again.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” She looked off. The dappled shade mottled her complexion. “I just know that you must wait. You must resist.”
“I don’t think I can anymore.”
“You must. Not for you and me, but for everyone on the island and everyone that will come. This is bigger than us.”
“But this is just a dream. Maybe I’m imagining this. Imagining you. Maybe none of this is true.”
She ran her finger over the bridge of his nose, touched his lips. “It’s all a dream. We just need to wake up.”
He took her hand and traced the blue veins on her wrist.
“If any of this matters,” he whispered, “then why can’t I remember you?”
“You will, Reed.”
“But I don’t even know your name.”
She took his hand and pressed it to her chest. Her pulse beat steadily into his palm. He slid his hand into her hair. The sun was low and the shadows hid her face as he drew her closer. Her cheek was warm against his.
The sun set.
Reed didn’t understand dreams. He might be delusional. All his bravado misguided. His suffering, useless.
But it was all he had.
When he woke, he returned to the beach.
The water lapped against his ankles.
He walked the length of the north shore until he reached the rocky outcroppings. He went no deeper into the water, just enough to keep his feet wet. He turned back, his footprints washed away.
His life was like his footprints: no trace of his past. Everything he could remember he disregarded as chatter. None of it was true, there was no reason to give it space. He just walked and walked, one foot in front of the other. The footprints dissolved behind him.
Up ahead, Danny was on the dune. He looked different. His chest was out, his gaze patiently set upon the horizon. He paid no attention to Reed’s approach.
Reed plunked down and leaned back on his elbows. He was tempted to take his shirt off and let the sun warm him but didn’t want Danny to see what had become of him. His appetite had waned and it was beginning to show.
Danny sat next to him. The wind scoured their shins with sand.
And the waves rolled.
“They’re healing us, Reed. Just like they promised.”
He told him about Parker, how he looked, how he acted. He wasn’t dead, not a zombie. He was vibrant, happy to be alive.
“You believe that?” Reed spoke just loud enough to be heard.
Danny took a breath, started to answer. He picked up a shell, instead, rubbing the shiny backside with his thumb. He wanted to say yes, he believed it. They were doing exactly what they told us and there was the proof. Parker was alive. He’s alive! They’re not killing us.
But are they healing us?
It was what they all wanted to believe. And he saw it with his own eyes.
He started to say yes again, but stood up. He walked to the water and threw the shell sidearm, skipping it on the thin water racing over the hardpacked sand. He remembered throwing flat rocks on a pond and counting the number of skips when he was a little kid. He was fishing with his dad.
Someone’s dad.
Someone’s memory.
He’d come to the beach to bring good news: they were being saved.
Reed shattered it with three words. Cut right to the heart of Danny’s doubt.
He picked up another shell, this one as big as his hand, and carried it back to the dune. He rubbed the inside of the shell, the pearly white inside. Half a clam.
Where was the other half?
Danny picked up sand, let it sift between his fingers. It scattered in a gust of wind.
“I remember hiking,” he said, grabbing another handful. “Hunting and fishing and fighting. Once, I got stuck on a trail without water for a day and nearly dehydrated before I got back. My ankle was twisted, too. Lost ten pounds on that trip.”
He smacked his empty hands, the grains of sand lost on the dune.
“The thing is, I know none of those memories are mine. I don’t hike and I don’t fish.”
Reed nodded.
“What I’m trying to say is, maybe you don’t know her. Maybe she’s someone else’s memory and you’re just hanging onto it and you’re wasting your time resisting.”
“I don’t remember her.”
“Then what are you doing?”
Reed looked far away. “I dream about her.”
Danny hadn’t dreamed once since he woke up on the island. In fact, he always woke up with a buzzing noise, like static. And it had gotten louder since the second round. Was the needle killing their dreams?
“I didn’t see her in the last round. But she gave me something. She left a gift just before it ended, or at least I think it was from her. It was wrapped in red paper, the same color of her hair. It said Merry Christmas, Danny Boy. And inside was sand.”
Reed tensed.
Describing her made him cringe.
He didn’t like to think of her inside Foreverland. Not when he was outside.
“What do you think it means?” Danny asked.
“It’s a clue.”
“A box of sand, but what does it mean?”
“You need to find her. It’ll make sense the next time.”
“Why don’t you go with me and help find her?”
Reed didn’t bother responding. He’d been through enough pain and suffering that a bit of guilt wasn’t going to get him to take the needle.
“Why is she hiding?” Danny asked.
“I don’t know,” he said, quickly. “But you need to find her.”
Danny played with another shell, sifted more sand. Reed didn’t have anything else to tell him so he got up, whacking the sand off his legs. He started back over the dune without saying goodbye.
“Danny Boy!”
Danny turned around but Reed was sitting still, facing the ocean. Maybe Danny imagined him shouting his name. The waves were so loud. He left him on the dune, all alone. But even when he was sitting next to him, he seemed so alone. Hollowed out by the suffering, a shell of a boy.
And the waves rolled.
26
“Keep your clothes on, gentlemen,” Mr. Clark said. “You’ve earned a reprieve for your masterful skills in the game room.”
The boys gathered outside the Haystack and gave a rousing cheer. The Investors applauded. Sid lifted his arms and strutted around. He stood next to Mr. Clark, jutting like a rooster. Mr. Clark pushed him gently back toward the boys.
“Yes,” he said. “Your appetite for killing in a virtual environment was unparalleled.”
The Investors chuckled but the boys didn’t catch the sarcasm. They were still slapping hands.
“As you know, you will be ineligible for another hiatus until the fifth round, so I encourage you to enjoy the reprieve. Please, take advantage of this gift bestowed upon you by the Director.”
Again, only the Investors noticed the sarcasm.
“You may enter the Haystack and your prospective cells.” He opened the door.
They lined up single file, as usual, but there was no need for the Investors to guide them with a hand on the shoulder. The damp cold was nothing to fear, only a temporary nuisance.
Danny found his cell and Mr. Jones closed it for him with a curt nod and a quick exit. Danny blew into his cupped hands watching the others find their place. He wasn’t going to lie on the concrete until the skylights went out. Zin entered his cell with his head bowed. He dropped to the floor and crossed his legs, falling into his typical breathing pattern. Reed stepped into his cell alone. His Investor wasn’t with him.
“Zin.” Danny bent down. “Zin, hey!”
Zi
n took a long breath and turned to Danny. A slight smile curled on his lips. That was all Danny wanted to see.
The Haystack door closed and the room became a shade darker. Only one Investor remained inside. Mr. Smith paced the aisle and stopped in front of Reed’s cell.
“Reed, you are ineligible for the reprieve, son. I’ll need you to—”
“Wait a second,” Danny said. “He’s part of this camp, he gets the same treatment as the rest of us.”
Mr. Smith waited for the interruption to end. “I’ll need you to hand me your clothes.”
“Listen to me, dammit!” Danny screamed. “You’re being unfair!”
Mr. Smith was unperturbed. His gaze was trained on Reed like crosshairs.
“He deserves it, Danny Boy,” Sid chimed from across the aisle. “What the hell has he done to get reprieve? I’ll tell you what: squat. He’s done nothing, Danny Boy. He’s a waste of time. They should put a bullet through his skull instead of a needle.”
“Mr. Smith, please.” Danny hugged the bars. “Reed needs the reprieve, sir. You’re going to break him. He’s not going to take the needle, you know that. There’s got to be another way. Have a heart, man.”
Mr. Smith’s stare did not waver.
Reed stripped off his shirt. His shoulder blades knifed from his back and every one of his vertebrae could be played like a xylophone.
“Mr. Smith…” Danny said.
“Ah-hah-hahaha!” Sid bellowed. “Look at the goon! It’s Halloween in cell six, boys. Reed’s got an eating disorder, the crazy mutt!”
Reed slipped off his pants. His pelvis poked from his hips.
Danny couldn’t watch. He’d sat with him on the beach, but seeing him bared to the world told of every second he’d endured since he’d been on the island. Even his face looked like a barren skull in the shadows.
Danny took off his shirt.
“Hey, look at Danny Boy!” Sid laughed. “He’s copying his boyfriend. I knew the two were gay for each other.”
Mr. Smith finally looked Danny’s way. He muttered something. By the time Danny had his pants off, the door to the Haystack swung open and a crowd of Investors rushed inside.
“Danny Boy.” Mr. Jones grabbed the bars on his cell. “What are you doing, my boy? You don’t need to do this, you have a reprieve. You can’t worry what the others are doing, you need to keep yourself in line, son.”
Danny removed his underwear and began folding his clothes.
“You’re a good boy, Danny Boy. You’re a good boy. This is so…” Mr. Jones looked at the other old men. “Danny! Look at me! LOOK AT ME, BOY!”
Danny turned his back.
“Stop this madness, son. This is just so unnecessary… I mean, you don’t need to go through the suffering. You don’t need…” He chuckled nervously, then reached through the bars but Danny was out of reach.
The other Investors murmured. “It’ll be all right,” they said. “He’ll get right, Mr. Jones, don’t worry. The kid will get right. Let things go at their own pace, you can’t make him do it.”
Reed placed his clothes at the foot of the cell door. Mr. Smith retrieved them and left. The Investors consoled Mr. Jones until he let go of the cage. He muttered on the way out, leaving Danny’s clothes behind. When the door closed, the Haystack was quiet.
“You’re as crazy as he is, Danny Boy,” Sid said. “You’re a pair of cracked pots, son. A pair of them.”
Reed turned his back on Danny and started a breathing routine.
The skylights began to close and darkness settled.
Danny began pacing to combat the chill running up and down his body. The camp began talking in half-hushed tones. He didn’t care.
It was impulse. He didn’t plan on joining Reed, but he just didn’t want to follow the rest of them into the needle. It was too much celebration, they were embracing it too happily. Someone needs to resist.
But the lights had gone down and he was already shivering.
The cages whirred. The needles began to lower. The excitement had been dampened by the weirdness of Danny’s voluntary nudity, but it didn’t slow any of them from reaching. The lines whined as they were stretched to the floor.
Zin was still sitting, unaware that the needle had dropped into the cage until it lowered to the top of his head. He reached up, mechanically, and began to fit it around his head.
“Zin,” Danny said. “Come back, all right. Don’t… just come back.”
Reed still had his back to Danny. And Zin was reaching for the needle and Danny realized it might be for the last time. If he got smoked on this round, Danny would be completely alone.
“Zin!” Danny just wanted him to hear it, to make sure. “You hear me?”
“Isn’t that lovely, boys?” Sid’s voice echoed in the dark. “Danny Boy’s afraid for Zinski. Hot damn, I’m tearing up over here. It’s breaking my heart.”
“Zin.” Danny tried to keep it quiet, but it was impossible. “Just look at me, man. Just, don’t smoke out. Not yet.”
“He’s a goner, Danny Boy,” Sid said. “Say goodbye.”
“Shut up!” Danny rushed the front of his cell and reached into the dark aisle. “SHUT THE HELL UP, SID!”
Silence fell as heavy as the cold air. Faint rustling told Danny that none of the boys had gone inside the needle, yet. They were listening. A drop of water fell from one of the sprinklers.
Sid laughed. “You think you’re a man, now? You’re Danny BOY, son. You better mind your manners.”
“I quit, Sid. I ain’t never stepping foot inside the game room again.”
“I don’t need you.”
“You were nothing before I got here. You and the rest of these clowns were just running around in circles until I saved your asses again and again because you’re an idiot. It’s over, now. All you dumbasses, you’re on your own. I’m done.”
The silence grew heavy, again. It was undercut by growling.
“I hope you learned how to control the pain response, Danny Boy,” he said. “Because when you get inside the needle, I’m going to pull you apart like a bug, son. I’m going to pour acid in your eyeballs and piss in the holes.” Sid laughed, but no one joined him. It was as dark as the room around them. “You think it’s torture in here, wait until I get a hold of you in Foreverland.”
Danny was grateful for the cloak of darkness, but it couldn’t hide the shivers in his voice. “I’m not going inside the needle.”
“Of course not.” And Sid laughed again. It carried down to the floor and faded off. Soon, the entire room no longer moved except for the heavy mouth-breathing. They were all inside the needle.
It was just Danny and Reed.
“Danny Boy?” Zin’s voice was scratchy, just above a whisper. “I’m coming back.”
Danny leaned his head against the bars.
The big fan clicked.
And the breeze came down.
“What are you doing?” Reed had turned around. Danny couldn’t make out his expression in the dark but he could see him latched onto the bars facing him. “This is my fight, not yours.”
“I’m not letting you do this alone.”
“It doesn’t prove anything.”
“Then follow your own advice!” Danny shouted. “You’re not doing anything by staying here.”
Reed remained at the side of his cell. He dropped his hands and went back to the center. Danny could hear his breath fall back into rhythm. He was not going to waste words.
Danny began pacing again. The cold crept into his ankles. The fan was on but not the sprinklers. With the rest of the camp wearing clothes, maybe they didn’t want to keep them soaked. Still, it was plenty uncomfortable, especially since Sid promised something much worse on the inside. Danny wasn’t sure he could control the pain response. He hadn’t even tried.
Zin will protect me.
But would he even remember Danny? Parker didn’t seem to know anything near the end. Perhaps his memory completely evaporated.
&n
bsp; An hour elapsed.
Danny was cold but without the mist it was easier to stay in rhythm. If it remained this way, he could tolerate the suffering like Reed. Maybe the hole would even heal. Maybe the others would see the wisdom in fighting the system and they could form a revolt. If everyone refused the needle, they could make a difference.
That’s when the door opened.
He knew it wasn’t Mr. Jones, unless he hurt his knee in the last hour. An old man appeared in the darkened aisle dragging a bum leg. Mr. Smith passed Danny’s cell. He was carrying tubes attached by a cord that dangled and swayed between his hands.
“Reed.” The old man stopped at his cell. “I need to see your hands, son.”
Reed took a deep breath and turned.
“What’re you doing?” Danny said. He was ignored.
Mr. Smith held up the tubes. “Put your hands through the bars.”
“Don’t do it, Reed,” Danny said. “They can’t make you.”
But Reed voluntarily went to the front of his cell and offered his hands. Mr. Smith slipped the tubes over his thumbs and adjusted clips on the sides. He stepped back and watched the cell begin to collapse.
“The pressure will increase over time, Reed. Please don’t be stubborn. You’re not accomplishing anything by the needless suffering.”
The cell continued to shrink until it sandwiched Reed, pressing deeply into his chest and back. Mr. Smith stared at Reed. They were unflinching in their hatred. Until the pressure clamped down on his knuckles and pinched the webbing between his thumb and finger, pressing on a nerve that buckled his knees. He would’ve fallen had the bars not held him tightly.
The lucid gear dropped just inches from the top of his head.
“Stop this,” Danny said. “This isn’t fair, he doesn’t want the needle. You can’t do this. YOU CAN’T DO THIS!”
But they could. They did.
Mr. Smith began to take his leave.
“Come back here, you old bastard!” Danny reached through the bars, losing sight of the limping man. “YOU HEARTLESS BASTARD!”
Light cut through the Haystack as the door at the end of the aisle opened. Danny turned away as it hit him in the face, but for a moment he saw Reed’s quivering hands and the shackles squeezing his thumbs. He didn’t see the expression of agony. But he heard it.
What Tomorrow May Bring Page 156
