by Melissa West
“Hey, I messaged you earlier,” she says. “Your dress came!” She tugs me away from Law toward my door.
“See you tomorrow,” Law says to me. “See ya, Gretch.” He doesn’t look at her when he says it, and he’s halfway down the auto-walk before I can ask him why he’s acting so weird.
“Okay, look,” Gretchen says, “I know we have Ops testing tomorrow, but promise me you’ll go try it on right now and message me what you think.” She claps her hands together like the whole thing’s too much for her to take.
“Fine.” I pick up the box and dart inside, hoping she doesn’t ask to come in with me. I need to think without anyone around. I enter my room, turn around, and almost shriek.
“Well, go ahead, try it on,” Jackson says as he leans against the wall beside my window, his arms crossed. “I won’t watch. Much.” He breaks into a grin that quickly fades when he notices the look on my face. Seeing Jackson has brought everything back from training. I feel sick. I feel sad. Every emotion swirls through me, and somehow this boy seems to be the only one who can understand.
I allow my eyes to find his. “Shouldn’t you be a bit more stealth? Especially after last night? And you can cut the arrogant-boy act. I know that’s not really you.”
He stares at me for a second. “I took care of that. Or should I say her. And I’m not… What happened?” he asks.
“Her? Who…Mackenzie?” I should have guessed that she was the one outside my room listening.
“Forget Kenzie. What happened?”
“I found out what happens in lab three,” I say as I sit my dress box down on the floor. I give him an abbreviated version of my afternoon, including the old woman who will likely cause me nightmares for weeks. Jackson starts forward, his face conflicted, then he stops and backs up against the wall again, crossing his arms. “We’ll figure it out, Ari,” he says.
I look down. “It was terrible. What we’re doing…”
“Hey…” He opens his mouth to say more, but the words catch as his eyes slip over my face. I must look wrecked.
Jackson clears his throat and looks away. “Did you notice anything else? Like what they’re planning to do in those chambers?”
I shake my head; my entire body feels numb, empty. “No, nothing.” I walk over to my bed and sit down, noticing that it’s not quite time for the Taking and wondering what Jackson’s planning to do for the next hour or so.
“I know I’m early. I thought we could…talk. Is it okay if I stay?” he asks, his voice more vulnerable than I’m used to.
I study him. “I guess so,” I say, fumbling with a loose string on the edge of my shirt.
Jackson hesitates, sensing my unease, but eventually slips down beside me, leaning back against my headboard.
We sit in silence for several seconds before I finally say, “Can you tell me about Loge? I’ve always wondered what it’s like. Is it different? The same?”
He glances at me, smiling at the mention of Loge. “It’s beautiful all year round. The sky is a purplish blue; the grass is always green. We have no pollution or trash. And Logians…” He stops for a second, like mentioning them hurts. “They’re pure in every way. Logians, by nature, are nothing like Zeus. Well, nothing like Zeus is now.”
“And what about your family and friends? Do they miss you when you’re away? Do you miss them?”
“I miss my friends every day, some more than others.” He grins. “My family…” he continues, though the tone of his voice has changed, “I love them. I try to please them…but they can be difficult.”
I nod in understanding. I’m not sure I’ll ever truly please Dad. “What about your parents?”
Jackson clears his throat, his eyes finding the wall opposite of us and never leaving. “I don’t have parents. My dad died before I was born and my mom… She didn’t… I wasn’t… She couldn’t keep me.”
“Couldn’t keep you? That’s horrible. Why?” My cheeks burn at my forwardness. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sure it’s personal.”
Jackson reaches around me to check the time. His expression turns playful. “Time for me to Take some of your goodness.”
I roll my eyes, but can’t keep from grinning. “Ha-ha. You really are a jerk, you know that?”
He leans over me. “Is that right?”
I open my mouth to respond with a smart comeback, but close it back. The truth is, I don’t think he’s a jerk. He’s confident, for sure, smart, and ridiculously good in all our trainings. But there’s also something deeper. He cares. I see it in him from time to time, only a brief flicker. And the look on his face when I told him about the old lady—he seemed as upset about it as I did. It’s like he’s putting on a front, something I know all too much about.
The truth is…Ancient or not, I’m starting to think Jackson and I may be more alike than I ever could have guessed.
CHAPTER 10
The next day I stand at my locker, anxious. It’s the first day of Op testing. There are four sections, just as with true Op training—combat, limits, resources, and weaponry. No one knows the order of the testing or how many tests we’ll face each day. The Engineer coordinators may separate them into different days, or we may face all today.
Gretchen walks up quiet and reserved, her face green. “Are you all right?” I ask.
“Yeah, just nervous.”
I rub her shoulder. “You’ve been prepping for this for years. We all have. You’ll be fine.”
“Easy for you to say,” she mutters as we slip into the gym.
The class takes a moment to calm down, all of us either jumping with excitement or nerves. Coach Sanders lowers the T-screen. He runs us through the terms of the testing, which basically says that we can’t hold the school, Parliament, or the Engineers accountable for any injuries. Our parents had to sign waivers, though they didn’t even send one to Dad. My role has always been known.
Once he’s finished the terms, he clicks a blue box on the T-screen. Instantly, testing stations rise from the floor at the far left of the gym. The transformation completes, leaving ten different stations, each with large walls surrounding them, blocking what’s inside. There are twenty-five of us in the class but only ten stations. That’s odd. Coach clicks another box and the numbers one through ten appear on each station, and below each number is a name. My eyes dart from station to station until I find mine. Station nine. Gretchen has station two, and Jackson, station five.
“You will see your names located below your station number,” Coach says. “If your name is not listed, then I’m sorry to say your scores have not qualified you to continue with Op testing. You may leave.”
A round of gasps echoes through the room. Not allowed to test? Wow. I try not to stare as they exit, a few angry and one girl sobbing. It seems cruel to not give them a chance, but Operatives aren’t known for their kindness, as evidenced by my dad.
We’re instructed to go to our stations. I stand outside nine, my hands shaking, but I know I’ll get it under control once inside. Mom offered a relaxation supplement this morning, but I couldn’t bring myself to take it. Lots of Ops take them, even some trainees, but the result is that you never really master self-control. A real fight isn’t likely to occur when we expect it. Inability to master fear will result in death. I can hear Dad’s voice saying the phrase to me during our earliest trainings. Dad taught me to know my weaknesses and face them head-on.
The door to nine opens and a woman beckons me forward. She bears the Lead Op badge, but I don’t recognize her. I’m sure that was intentional. Her black hair is pulled back in a tight bun, causing her eyes to slant to the side. She doesn’t smile or wave or hint at any form of civility.
“Today’s test is limits. Your headset is there,” she says, pointing to a chair against the opposite wall from her. “You may sit or stand while you conduct the test, though I’ll warn you, eventually you’ll find yourself standing. I suggest you stand or sit in the center of the room. Less injuries that way.”
I walk over to the chair, grab the headset, and step back over to the center of the room.
She nods for me to begin, and just as I slide the headset on, blocking her from view, I hear her say, “Your test is unique, Ari. Keep that in mind.”
I try to think of what she might mean, and then it hits me—Cybil. And if she had any say in my test that can only mean one thing. Ancients. I draw a steadying breath, forcing back any doubts, and open my eyes.
I am alone in an abandoned warehouse. It reminds me of a food-processing warehouse but older, decaying. Bits of orange light shine in through a half dozen windows, streaking out across the top of the warehouse, never dropping to where I stand a story below. Dust floats in the air above me. Birds crow in the distance. The hinges of the warehouse door creak as it swings back and forth, back and forth. I push through the doors to outside, peering around. There’s nothing, no one, only the single warehouse in a field surrounded by thick, overgrown woods.
Something urges me forward, something like curiosity or need. I walk out into the open and turn around in a circle, watching the trees, but for what I’m not sure.
Then I see her.
A tiny woman walks out from the woods’ edge. She’s lean with an agile look that instantly flicks on my defensive side. I wait where I am, somehow sure that she’ll come to me. What I don’t expect is for a thick arm to wrap around my neck from behind, cutting off my air supply. I rise onto my toes and then slam down into a squat, jerking the offender over my head and onto the ground in front of me, where I slam my fist into his face. I glance up to where the woman stood before and now there are three, five, ten of them, one after another, stepping out from the forest depths. I do the only thing I can do—I turn and run, crashing through the woods opposite from them into the overgrowth and thorns, desperate for distance so I can think up a plan.
I’m well into the woods now, darkness closing in overhead. The wind picks up, carrying whispers through the leaves. I stop at an open clearing, hoping I can take on one at a time, but that’s not really how an attack works. They’re all going to jump me. I wait several seconds, widening my stance and preparing myself mentally for the fact that I might fail this test, when I hear a strange sound coming from a great oak to my right. First scratching, then what I can only describe as something growing inside a space that’s too small. I back away from it, staring with wide eyes, as first a hand, then a leg, then an entire body emerges from the tree, like the bark spit out a person—an Ancient.
I scream just as someone yanks me back, causing my headset to scatter to the ground. For a moment, I’m disoriented, caught between the simulation and reality, then my focus returns and I realize I’m being dragged from the simulation room. I claw and kick against the offender, fighting to regain control, then I wheel around, prepared to punch, when I see Jackson, his face filled with urgency. “What…?”
“We have to get out of here. Now.” He grabs my hand and drags me through the door of station nine and into a cloud of smoke. At first I think it’s part of the simulation, but then smoke spills into my lungs, and I cough, clamping a hand to my mouth. “There’s been an explosion,” Jackson says. “I don’t know where. We have to get out.”
We reach the exit to the gym before I’m able to wiggle from his grasp. “I can’t leave Gretchen.”
“She was in two. Come on.” We rush through the smoke, barely missing people as we go. How Jackson finds station two, I’ll never know, but he has the door open and pulls Gretchen from the center of the room, headset still over her head. She screams and fights against him until I yank the headset off and force her to look at me.
“We have to go!” I say and tug her toward the door. She pulls back, but then her gaze shoots past me, her eyes widening. She nods without a word. As soon as we’re out of her station, I realize we can’t leave everyone else. Jackson must sense my thoughts and rushes from station to station, opening the doors and commanding everyone to run. Most seem as confused as Gretchen, but eventually the smoke causes primal instinct to kick in.
A voice comes over the intercom instructing students, by code, to the secret exits and protective shelters planted around the school. They’ve been ingrained in us as prep for war. Chaos ensues in the gym as the announcement sparks fear and worry. People begin to shove others out of the way, desperate to get out. This feels like a war.
I motion to the emergency exit doors of the gym, where bright red lights flash, directing us to safety. Gretchen looks hesitant—the doors are all the way across the gym and the main doors that exit into the school are closer. “No, let’s go this way,” she screams over the high-pitched alarms echoing through the school.
I shake my head and point to the emergency doors. “Those go directly outside of the grounds. Come on, we don’t have time to argue.” Just when I’m about to drag her with me, the ceiling starts to cave in, debris crashing to the gym floor. I duck down, covering my head with my arms, and when I stand back up, she’s gone. “Gretchen!” I spin around and around. “Where are you? Gretchen!” Nothing. Panic crawls up my spine. “Jackson?”
“I’m here. She ran; I’m not sure where. We have to get out of here.” He grabs my hand and directs me toward the emergency exit, but it’s a dead end. Debris is scattered all in front of it, blocking access to the door.
“This way.” I tug Jackson to the left toward Coach Sanders’s office, which I know has its own exit to inside the school grounds. We rush through the hallway, pass his office door, and turn left down another long hallway with a door at the end. But once we barrel through the door, the world stops, as if in slow motion.
Smoke floats through the air, heavy, suffocating, so much worse than the smoke in the gym. My eyes dart left and right. Coughs chorus from every direction. Everyone’s running. A boy falls to the ground. I reach out for him, but Jackson gets to him first, standing him up and pointing him to the exit closest to us. The boy stumbles forward and I fear he’s going to fall again and we’ll be gone and no one will help him. “We can’t just—” Then I look around. There are too many to count. Girls and boys coughing and sputtering on the ground, some crying, all paralyzed with fear. I rush to a tiny girl hunched in the corner to my left and motion for Jackson to help another one a yard or two away. I’m not leaving this building while all these people are inside. We lead the two girls out the main double doors and turn back to go get more, but this time thirty or more students who were safe outside now rush in after us, everyone joining together to save as many as possible. Finally, emergency medics arrive and usher us outside. I start through the crowd, eager to find Gretchen, when an overwhelming pain slices through my head and I collapse to the ground, screaming.
“Ari!” Jackson reaches for me. “What is it? What’s wrong?” My head twitches, and I wrap my hands around my skull as if I can press the pain away. Jackson cradles me in his arms and starts to run away from the crowd. I want to ask where he’s taking me, but each second brings on a fresh wave of pain, like a heartbeat. Relief-pounding-relief-pounding. I bite down on my lip, tasting blood almost immediately, sure I’ll pass out any second from the pain.
“What happened to her?” a voice calls. Then fast footsteps followed by, “Where are you taking her?”
Lawrence? But I don’t dare open my eyes because I can still hear the piercing screams of my classmates and professors, inside the school and out. Screaming, so much screaming.
Before I know it, we’ve reached some alcove that feels spongy and wet. I open my eyes fleetingly. Jackson and Lawrence kneel beside me. They’re talking too quickly to keep up. The world spins in a mixture of pain and nausea and dizziness. I try to keep my eyes open but the pain slams them shut.
“Just do it!” Law commands.
I wonder who he’s so angry with when Jackson yells back, “It isn’t that easy! It’ll expose her. I can’t—”
I start to drift off, unaware of where I am or who I’m with or what’s happening.
“Do it now. Please, loo
k at her,” Law says, his voice rattling.
A second later, I feel intense warmth, and then ice pours over my head, moving down my neck and into my body. I breathe in, and with each release the pain begins to diminish. More and more seeps into my body until it’s as though I’m floating through a gentle stream. My body is weightless matter, nothing more than a beating heart inside an empty shell. I’m sure I can open my eyes now, but I don’t. I want every bit of the icy liquid. I want it to never leave. Maybe I can stay here in the majestic stream, light and airy, without worry…without the screams.
CHAPTER 11
When I wake, I expect to see blood or bodies or, worse, nothing at all. I’m so afraid that I hesitate, my eyes closed while my mind processes my environment. I hear an argument, and then a door closes, blocking out the sound. I sit up as my mom comes toward me with a tray of food.
“I’m so glad to see you awake,” she says, placing the tray on my nightstand. “How are you feeling?” She runs a hand over my forehead and through my hair before easily patting my back as though I’m a young girl again.
“I’m…okay. What about everyone else? What happened?”
She sighs that long, drawn-out breath that means she’s trying to avoid the question. “There was an electrical fire at your school. What do you remember?”
I remember Jackson and Lawrence and… “Where’s Gretchen?” I barely remember being taken from school, but somewhere deep in my fractured mind I remember not knowing where Gretchen went and worrying whether she would make it out.
“She’s at the Medical Center, but she’ll be okay,” Mom says. “I spoke to her mom. She said Gretchen had a breakdown. Something to do with being pulled from the Op simulation too quickly. She’s fragile right now, but her mom assured me she would be fine and to let you know.”
I slump back against my pillows, relieved. I remember an excruciating pain just before I blacked out. That must have been my breakdown, but then…then came the cold. But not an agonizing cold, it was soothing, almost like drinking something iced on a hot day. I remember basking in it, not wanting it to end.
