Remember Me

by Stacey Nash

  Moving back, I crouch under a low pine branch and unsling the barrier destroyer. My mouth is suddenly bone dry, my chest thudding, my legs itching to run again. Do I really want this to work? If it breaks the barrier, I have no plan of what to do next. I’ve jumped the starting gun, but now that we’re here I can’t turn away. Mae could be here, close, and this could be my chance to help her. This might even make the difference between her life or death or torture.

  Lilly shifts into the shade of the tall pines, rocking on her haunches while Marcus catches my eye as he creeps up to join us. Glancing at the ground, I toe the fallen leaves until I uncover a small stone. It slides into the barrel like it was made fit. Holding the bow up and pointing right at the fence where I’m sure the hole is, I shoot. The force of release jars me back, right into Lilly while the stone shoots through the air and slams into the fence. It doesn’t get caught in the barrier but doesn’t ping off the rock either, just kind of falls to the ground.

  “Did it work?” Lilly asks.

  “Hard to tell.”

  She jumps up and stalks over to the fence, pushing her hand against it. Shakes her head and leans back, pulling, her hand clearly stuck. Her elbow bends and snaps straight several times until finally she’s successful. It comes loose and she falls onto her butt, arms and legs all over the place. Marcus chuckles. Brushing dirt off herself, she comes back to us. “Barrier’s still there,” she says, “but the stone hit it hard.”

  I look at the fence. She’s right, there’s a big divot about the same size as the one on the workshop wall, just smaller than my clenched fist and right where the stone connected. If a small stone can do that … huh, maybe I’ve been thinking about this all wrong. We don’t need to break the barrier; we need to break the wall.

  I need something bigger, perhaps another rock. Kicking at the dirt, I chew the inside of my cheek. This could work, we could get in right here and now. No rocks litter the ground nearby, so I move a little further away and keep looking closer to the fence, scouring the ground. Maybe something broke off when the rock hit. Still nothing.

  “Pssst.”

  Glancing in the direction of the sound, I see Marcus beckon me over. He tugs the bag off Lilly’s back and digs around in it. His hand comes out clenched around a round steel ball, his small hand barely covering it.

  “I grabbed this when I saw your contraption. I wasn’t sure if you had ammo but thought this might work.”

  Lilly sucks in a sharp breath.

  “A ball bearing?” I ask.

  “Not just a ball bearing. It’s tech ammo that will add power to the impact,” he says.

  “Perfect.” I scoop it up out of his hand, shove it into the barrel, and it only just fits. A little shake of the contraption rattles the ammo down the cannon. Good, it won’t get stuck.

  “We … ah … might … ah …”

  “Spit it out Marcus,” Lilly says.

  “We should move back further into the trees.” He sounds a little uncertain.

  I shift back into the trees, half crouching as I go until the branches brush my back but I can still get a clear shot. Marcus almost falls over his own feet scurrying into the bushes and crouching beside me. His eye twitches.

  “Ready?” I ask.

  Lilly dashes into the dense branches and crouches behind us. “Yep.”

  I raise the bow to my shoulder, place my finger over the trigger and pull. As the ball’s released from the chamber I’m forced back again and fall onto Lilly, knocking us both to the ground. A massive bang explodes and shards of stone and cement fly like rogue bullets.

  “Shit.” Marcus scampers further back into the bush.

  Throwing my arms up, I crouch over Lilly, my back protecting us from the shooting chunks of fence. They sting when they hit me, but damn. It worked. Debris finally stops falling. I jump to my feet and run to the wall, through the dust hanging in the air like a thick fog. It’s not until the wall’s an arm’s length in front me that I can actually see. My feet skid along the ground trying to stop before I hit.

  A hole as big as a fridge has ripped the center of the wall open. My heart beats double time. We did it. We actually did it. We’ll be able to get in.

  I can see straight through the hole, and this is the right spot. The hanging branches of the willow sway in the wind like curtains that open onto a sports oval. On the far side a small bunch of people stand in pairs holding weapons like they were sparring. Only now they’re not. They’re all facing me. We’re locked in stone, me watching them watching me. My eyes lock on the girl with flaming red hair, the same one I saw from the platform. Then I glance at the girl beside her and my racing heart stops for five beats.

  Mae.

  “Mae!” I back up then run, pelting as fast as I can right at the torn-open fence. I leap into the air, aiming for the huge hole and it slams into me mid-pounding stride.

  I’m stuck.

  My pulse hammers in my ears, my legs fight to keep moving, but I’m stuck.

  The fricking barrier’s unbroken.

  Hands grip my waist, pulling me from behind, but I still don’t move.

  And she’s looking at me, but she’s too far away. I can’t make out her expression.

  I swing my arms, trying to break through, but it’s no use.

  Someone shouts and people flood out of the building like ants out of a nest. They don’t stop when they get outside. I try to stand on my toes, but I can’t even move them, and now I don’t see her anymore. She’s been swallowed by the crowd. People run toward the fence, drawing weapons. I push forward with every ounce of strength, barely budging an inch. “Mae!”

  Another set of hands clamp around me, and suddenly I’m flying backward out of the barrier. I yank myself around, trying to break their grasp. “Let me go,” I yell. “Let me go!” I strike out against them. I need to get to her. My hand darts to my belt, but the stun-mace isn’t there.

  “Will,” Lilly yells. “We need to get out of here.”

  She tugs on my arm and I shake it, brushing her away like a pesky insect.

  The loud rush of a hundred feet crashing toward us reverberates through me, and I snap back to my senses. Beau was right all along. Three of us against a thousand of them ain’t gonna cut it. This was a stupid, doomed plan, but I needed to know she’s safe.

  “The bikes.” Lilly dashes into the trees. “Run!”

  I steal a last look; dozens of them are almost at the fence. A growl comes from deep inside me and I sprint after Lilly. Even though I felt Marcus pull me out of the barrier, there’s no sign of him now.

  Angry voices shout after us, and I run faster, catching up to Lilly. I grab her hand. Thankfully the bikes aren’t far away. When we reach them, Marcus’ is gone, only my old girl is there. I toss myself on, pulling Lilly up behind me and rev the engine on in the bare nick of time. As I look back, they swarm out of the trees behind us.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mae

  BOOM.

  Cynnie and I both drop our training sticks, spinning to face the noise, face the wall. A huge cloud of dust billows around the fence, obscuring the weeping branches of the tree from sight.

  “What was that?” Cynnie’s hand shoots to her chest as if to hold in her heart.

  “I don’t know.”

  Real sword in hand, Nik runs toward the settling cloud. As it thins, coating the ground in a dusty blanket, it reveals a gaping hole in the stone.

  There’s movement to my left, and I find myself peeking sidelong at Joshua who stares straight ahead, his cheeks a little flushed from training. He says, “Impressive.”

  Nik’s no longer alone running across the oval, people have poured out of school to investigate the noise, and a stream of adults who aren’t dressed like Socrai run with him.

  A siren screeches, and Cynnie pulls on my arm. “Come on.”

  I don’t move. Someone’s there, on the other side of the wall looking through the gap—right at me. It’s a guy. He’s too far away to make out any fe
atures except his mouth hanging opened like he’s yelling. I can’t hear him though; all I can hear is the siren wailing and the people screaming around me. All of a sudden he’s gone, hidden by the charging crowd. I turn to Cynnie, about to ask if she saw him, but her face is a mask of urgent fear.

  “We have to go,” she says.

  All around us people bustle, either toward the fence or back the other way. I move with Cynnie, matching her stride for stride. My pulse responds to the panic thickening the air. In through the courtyard and out through the main gate, then we’re on the street amidst a mob of people, pushed forward with the flow. We jog down the road and up toward the hill in the center of the Agoge, or what they call this village.

  The spiraling street seems to circle in and up toward the small peak. A sandstone structure dominates the hill, its walls encased with tall, fluted columns. I can’t believe I haven’t noticed this stunning building before. It’s an imposing centerpiece marking the middle of town. Must have been too preoccupied with everything else.

  The crowd thins as we reach the top of the hill, but the siren wails on. I can’t see any of our classmates. Cynnie gives me a weak smile and palms her training pants, leaving dark streaks of sweat, no doubt a symptom of our fast trek up the hill.

  A steady stream of people trickle through the building’s massive open doors, their expressions mixed, some scared, some laughing, others in a blank daze. Cynnie continues to move with the flow and I keep up with her. We hike up the long stone steps and under the opening—ten times my height—with columns rising up above us like imposing giants holding up the ceiling with their chunky tops. We’re in a veranda-like area for a few minutes. Massive doors reaching almost to the roof stand open, their wooden panels carved with vines, flowers, and leaves. The crowd pushes us through the huge double doors. The panic of the crowd echoes through me with the stream of people rushing into the cold echo-filled chamber with us. What is this place?

  I tumble forward, pushed from behind, and my shoulder thuds into someone.

  When I find my feet, a woman in a cream robe stands in the middle of the entrance. The hood pushed back off her shaven head rests in a bunched pile behind her neck. I open my mouth to apologize, but she dips her head and holds her hand out, pointing to a door on the far side of this vast chamber.

  Cynnie dips her head in response and grabs my arm. She hauls me to the door while I’m still looking back at the strange woman. She was dressed the same as the sensor watching us at school on that very first day. Maybe that’s what this woman is.

  The crowd pushes us through the wooden door and we emerge into an even larger room than the one we first came into. People mill in small groups, but the room is almost eerily silent. They’re mostly teens, kids, and old people. Where are all the adults and what’s going on? I scan the room, for people we know, and I see Joshua sitting on a stone step which leads up to a dais similar to the one at school. His arms rest over his raised knees, his hands hang limp, and he looks like he’s lost in his own thoughts.

  “I wonder what happened,” Cynnie says.

  I drag my attention back to her. “Looked like a hole in the fence. What’s that fence for anyway?”

  She raises a brow. “Your memory’s still no better? Have you spoken to anyone about that?”

  “Councilor Manvyke says it will come back, it’s just a short term thing. Apparently it’s common with my type of injury.”

  “Anamae, maybe you should … you know … talk to a hocrei or something. The councilor isn’t exactly a healer.”

  “I guess …”

  “It’s been over a week. It’s not normal.”

  She’s right. It isn’t normal. Maybe I should mention it again, or talk to the hocrei. I glance back across the room to Joshua, who looks at his hands. There’s something about him that draws me in and doesn’t let me look away, but we’ve barely spoken. I let out a breath as I watch the perfect lines of his shoulders slumped under his fine frame.

  “Anamae.”

  I snap my focus back to Cynnie, my face warming with being caught watching him again. She gives a small shake of her head. “Just go and talk to him.”

  Crap, must have spaced while she was talking. “What were you saying?”

  “Nothing, I can’t keep your attention so there’s no point in trying. Sheesh, he’s just a guy. Go.”

  She places her hand on my back and gives me a gentle shove. I grin at her as I weave through the people and make my way to the dais. He looks up when I get nearer and leans back, resting his weight on his hands.

  “Hi,” I say.

  He offers up a lopsided smile. “Hey.”

  The way his mouth curves and his eyes sparkle remind me of the first day we met, when he jumped out of the tree and slapped Nik with a smart comment. The same feeling of familiarity I had then washes over me now.

  “I swear I know you,” I say.

  The moments span out forever as he holds eye contact. I feel my cheeks warm and start to feel uncomfortable, so I glance at the ground. When I look up, he shakes his head.

  “Just then, I had the strongest feeling of déjà vu,” I say.

  “Déjà vu?” Nik’s voice right by my ear makes me jump. “Anamae, are you trying to come on to my brother?” He walks around me and places his foot on the step between Joshua and I. “If romance is what you’re after, I’m a much better option.” Smiling, he winks. Holy hell, I might just die of embarrassment.

  Joshua looks down at his hands and starts flicking his fingers off his thumb one by one. “Really, Nik. You think so?”

  “Off the dais.”

  I flinch for the second time in as many minutes. A man dressed like the morning assembly Socrai strides through the room, heading right toward us.

  I shuffle out of his way while Joshua rises lazily and takes a place beside me. Nik doesn’t move, not even an inch. The man levels him with a glare and clears his throat. Nik slowly removes his foot from the step as if he’s testing the man’s patience.

  “Show time,” Cynnie whispers from right behind me.

  Everyone in the room falls into a hushed silence as all faces look toward the man in the purple robe. He stands on the dais, shoulders back, chin up, gaze falling over the assembled crowd: intense, piercing, accusatory. If I wasn’t surrounded by Joshua, Nik, and Cynnie, I’d feel totally cowered by his look.

  “I’m sure many of you are aware of the security breech. Thank you for responding to the safety alarm in an orderly and speedy manner.” He pauses, pinning the faces before him with a glower. “Until such a time as the security of our compound can be guaranteed, you will need to stay in the temple.”

  “This is a temple?” I whisper.

  “Yes,” Cynnie says.

  Joshua looks at me from the corner of his eye. “What? Of course it’s a temple, what in the hell else would it be?”

  Someone behind us shushes and I pull my eyes back to center front. “Until then, the sensors will see to your needs,” the man says, and I curse myself for talking because now I’ve missed what he said. He steps down off the dais and makes his way through the throng of people.

  “What did he say?” I ask.

  Joshua chuckles. “Should’ve paid attention.”

  The blond kid, Xane, spins around with a strange look on his face. Surprise, disgust, I’m not sure. “How did you not know this is a temple? I thought temples were the same in all the Collective Agoge.”

  Suddenly aware I opened my mouth when I should have kept it shut, I shrug. My tummy turns somersaults. “They’re a little different in my home commun—ah—agoge. Smaller, less grand, more modern, you know?”

  Hopefully I’ve covered my slip. I need to be more careful and think before I speak. Dumb as a daisy is about right.

  Xane continues staring, scratching his temple with a finger. “More modern?”

  “Yep.” I turn to escape, but a hand grabs mine stopping me mid-step. I glance over my shoulder, coming face to face with Joshua. The intensit
y in his eyes completely steals my breath.

  “Ignore Nik. He’s only trying to upset you.” His hand loosens, letting mine fall.

  I give him a smile, and he smiles back, kick-starting my lungs. I need some distance to get my head together. Cynnie’s right, this memory loss isn’t normal. I need to talk to the councilor again and a hocrei too. Maybe a different one, though—one that’s not crazy, thinking my life’s in danger if ’he’ finds out I’m dumb. Whoever the heck ’he’ is.

  I turn away, moving through the people and over to the double doors, which still stand open. A quick glance around and no one’s paying any attention, so I slip out into the vast room now empty of people and run my hand across my pounding forehead. This memory thing is so hard. I just want to be me, be normal, be free of worry.

  Wandering over to a stone bench positioned against the far wall, I ease myself down onto it, lean against the cool wall as building tears burn my throat and sting my eyes.

  I just can’t do this anymore. Everything’s so empty and lost, like I’m living someone else’s life.

  Disrupted air tickles my skin as someone sits beside me, but I don’t open my eyes because I don’t want to talk to Cynnie right now.

  “Oh dear, is everything all right?” says a soft female voice.

  I rub my eyelids with my fingertips, wiping away my tears. She doesn’t speak again.

  “I’m okay,” I say, daring to peek. Clear eyes gray as storm clouds meet mine. They’re framed by one of the cream, hooded robes, shrouding her face in shadows.

  A sensor.

  “Clearly you’re not.”

  I look away.

  “You were in an accident recently?”

  “Yes.” It seems everyone knows who I am, even if I don’t know them.

  “How are you doing?”