Extraction

by Stephanie Diaz

  My eyes are wide, and I’m pretty sure I’ve been clinging to the top of the wall for fifteen seconds too long.

  Swallowing hard, I swing my legs over, one at a time, and drop down. The pipe is wide enough that I land easily. But it narrows in a few feet. And I can already tell it’s slippery.

  I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can cross without falling.

  But the tower is on the other side.

  Eyes wide, I take a step. And another.

  By the fifth step, I’m breathing easier. This isn’t so bad, as long as I don’t look down. As long as I don’t think about how cold the water might be, or the fact that I don’t know how to swim, and therefore might drown if it’s deep.

  When I’m almost at the end, I run the rest of the way. My boots slide on the pipe once, and I gasp but recover. I don’t stop running until I hit the final platform and grab a rope hanging from the looming tower.

  The Extractions who aren’t still behind me on the course are already attempting the climb, some only a few ledges up, some nearly halfway. One person is almost at the top.

  My lungs feel like they’re going to explode in my chest, but I do my best to suck in air and ignore them. I grip the rope with one hand and find a hold on one of the thin ledges of the tower with the other, and pull myself up. My forearms tremble—oh no, oh no—but they hold me steady.

  My mouth twists into a smile. This is familiar. This is what I’m good at.

  On the sixth ledge, my foot slips.

  I cry out and clutch the rope. My feet dangle in the air, leaving me suspended. Sweat dribbles down my cheeks, and I can’t let go but I’m losing my grip. I need a foothold—I need one fast.

  My boot digs into a crack. I put all my weight on it and push off, climbing up to the next ledge.

  I stay there for a second, catching my breath. I can’t let that happen again. I’m already high up from the ground, and I’m only going to get higher.

  Colonel Parker said we won’t get hurt if we fall from the tower, but I don’t want to risk it.

  I keep moving, fast. There’s no wind here—not in this room or anywhere in the Core—but the air grows colder as I reach higher ledges. It nips at my skin through my leather suit.

  I pass the Extractions who haven’t reached the top of the tower yet, which is most of them.

  Soon I’m at the top. I clench my teeth hard, and use what’s left of my breath to crawl onto the roof. My whole body is on fire, but it’s a good kind of fire. It makes me feel capable of anything.

  Standing, I lean over the edge and glimpse the people still struggling up the ledges. That might be Ariadne near the top, but I can’t tell for sure.

  Adrenaline warms my veins, though the air is freezing. I turn away to cross the rooftop to the other side. I still have to get down. I’ve lost track of counting seconds. I have no idea how long it’s been.

  Five sets of ladder rungs stretch from here to the ground. Three of them are already in use by Drew and Stanley, and a girl whose name I don’t know.

  For a second I hesitate. Should I jump? Colonel Parker said that would be faster.

  But it’s a long way down. And I don’t know if I trust him when he says we won’t get hurt.

  The ladders look less scary to use. I lower myself onto a rung, slowly at first, to test the strength. It holds me, so I drop to the next. There’s pressure in my lungs from controlling my breathing for so long, but it eases as my altitude decreases.

  I shift my weight to the rung below me, and it snaps.

  I hang suspended, gripping the metal bar above me, my heartbeat in my fingertips. My toes stretch, seeking something to touch, but my legs aren’t long enough. The next rung is barely three inches from my toes, but I can’t reach it without letting go.

  My teeth clench so hard, I might break them. I’m going to fall.

  I strain my arm muscles and try to pull myself up to stand on the rung I’m holding. I can’t do it. Adrenaline rushes through me, but my biceps are too tired. I’m not strong enough.

  I squeeze the bar until my fingers hurt. I’m okay. I’m okay.

  I’m not okay.

  Parker said if we fall, something will keep us from getting hurt. Which means I won’t die, but what if he’s a liar? I don’t think he wants me to die; I think the Developers want me alive, but I’m not certain. I don’t know if I trust him.

  My fingers are slipping, and my heart is racing, and I’m going to have to do something. I can’t reach the next rung, and I can’t hold on much longer.

  I have to trust him. I don’t have another option.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and let my fingers slide off the rung.

  My nerves scream. Wind rushes past me, ice that chokes me. I’m falling, tumbling from the sky, and nothing will catch me. I will splatter, and then nothing.

  But something soft surrounds me, like a breeze or a bed of feathers, and I float. I’m still high, still sinking lower, but no longer in danger of breaking. I’m a leaf on the wind, falling slowly until I land on the soft mat on the ground.

  I close my eyes, my chest still heaving, trying to get more air in.

  I open my eyes and Sam is standing beside me, a small scanner in his hand. His eyes are narrowed.

  I push off the mat, glancing around. Drew is here too, leaning over and coughing up saliva. And Stanley is almost down. But I don’t think either one of them jumped—they didn’t have to.

  “What was her time, Sam?” a second voice says. I turn to see Colonel Parker.

  “Four minutes and twelve seconds.” Sam’s voice is stiff.

  Colonel Parker observes me, his eyes saying something I can’t read. “And that was her first time. Incredible.” He pulls a small tablet out of his back pocket. His fingers tap the screen. “Commander Charlie will want to hear about this.”

  My eyes flit to Sam. He scowls at me from behind Colonel Parker. I can’t help smiling a little. I didn’t beat his time today, but maybe I will tomorrow. I proved myself like I wanted to.

  Now Commander Charlie will know my name.

  13

  I stand in Recreation Division with Oliver and Ariadne, watching two boys who look like they’re ten years old fight each other on a floor mat, while their friends cheer them on. The bigger boy aims a kick at the other’s stomach, knocking him to his knees. He shoves his head to the floor and pins him for three seconds.

  Ding.

  A screen on one side of the mat adds a point to the bigger boy’s score. He’s winning four to one.

  Seeing kids hit each other like this for fun makes my mouth taste sour.

  “See?” Ariadne says beside me. “Soldier training.”

  “It’s just a game,” I say, turning away. “They want to be officials when they grow up, so they’re practicing.”

  “Since when are you okay with them growing up to be officials?” Oliver asks, his voice almost spiteful.

  I falter, biting my lip. He’s right. Why am I defending them? “I’m not.”

  “Good.” Oliver moves past me into the crowd, his shoulder bumping mine a little too hard. “Since you’re the only person who passed the officials’ obstacle course the first time, I wasn’t sure if you’d decided to become one of them. You and Sam seemed pretty tight, after all.”

  I stare after him. “Excuse me?”

  “Just saying.”

  I glance at Ariadne, who twists her mouth. Her blue eyes reflect the flashing lights.

  “I wasn’t trying to pass because of that,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “I don’t want to be an official. I have to do well in training because…” I swallow, unsure if I want to tell them. “Because there’s someone I’m trying to save.”

  “Who?” Ariadne asks.

  His face flashes through my head: his starry eyes, and the scars on his skin, and those lips that turned me into lightning. “Just someone,” I say, blinking fast because my eyes are watering.

  Oliver turns around. “I’m sorry,” he s
ays. Pain flickers through his eyes.

  I duck my head so he won’t see my face. “Do you miss anyone?” I ask. “From where you came from.”

  “No,” Ariadne says without hesitation. When I look up, her lips are pressed firmly together.

  “I do,” Oliver says. He runs his fingers through his hair, his eyes on the ground and his forehead creased. “But it’s pointless, you know? We’re not going to see them anymore.”

  “Thank the stars,” Ariadne whispers.

  They’re wrong, but I don’t want to argue with them. I turn away and take a breath, and remind myself that everything is going to be okay. Commander Charlie already knows my name. I just have to keep this up. I just have to show him I’m useful and that he can trust me.

  I just have to convince him to make an exception for Logan.

  I wipe the wetness from my eyes and glance back at Ariadne and Oliver. “Come on, let’s do something, yeah?”

  “Sure,” Oliver says.

  We push into the crowd, past the tank where people are swimming. We pass the zero-gravity capsules and a giant system of glass-and-steel tunnels where children are crawling. None of them appeal to me at the moment, and they must not appeal to Oliver or Ariadne, either, because we keep on walking in silence.

  “Hey, Shorty,” someone says.

  I know who it is before I turn around. I stiffen.

  Sam pushes through the crowd with those two boys he was with yesterday. There’s a smirk on his face, as usual, but something colder in his eyes. The same glare he gave me earlier when Colonel Parker congratulated me on my time.

  “What do you want?” I ask.

  “We thought you three might be down for a little game,” he says, sticking his hands in his pockets.

  “Why would we be?”

  “All the cool kids are playing it. We’re about to go pick teams. See that dome over there by the wall?” He points behind us.

  I turn and look. He means the massive steel dome with PHANTOM flashing on its side. The dome stretches through a hole in the glass floor above ours.

  “What’s the game?” Oliver asks, frowning.

  Sam’s lips spread into a grin. “Come see.”

  *

  I’m not sure why we agreed to this. Beyond the entrance to the dome, the room is small and round, brimming with unfamiliar weapons in glass cabinets and steel fixtures. Static sounds and low hums fill the air.

  “Phantom Preparation Deck,” a computerized voice says. “Pick your weapons.”

  There are quite a few people in here already—ten or twelve of them around my age, I’d guess. They wear leather suits like mine, but in shades of red, gray or green. Ahead of me, a muscular boy in gray snatches an orange mega-gun with double barrels. It’s the biggest weapon I see.

  “Everyone, gather up,” Sam yells. He and one of his buddies march to the far side of the room, to a round door I imagine leads into the main part of the dome. They face the rest of the group.

  “Captains are me and Riley,” Sam says. “We’re doing two teams, nine people on each. It’s gonna be tough today. If you don’t think you can handle it, better leave now. There are plenty of easier training modules. Go test those out. Riley, take first pick.”

  “You in the red.” Sam’s crony, Riley, points to a well-built girl who cracks her knuckles and smirks.

  “Joe.” Sam makes his first pick.

  The muscular boy with the orange mega-gun nods.

  “What a surprise,” a girl standing a couple feet in front of me mutters.

  Riley picks another person. Sam picks another.

  Finally there are only three people who haven’t been chosen: me, Oliver, and Ariadne.

  It’s Sam’s pick first. He rubs his chin and smiles. He whispers something in Riley’s ear.

  “Fine,” Riley says, rolling his eyes.

  “Shorty and Blondie on my team,” Sam says. “Riley’s taking Glasses.”

  “Two minutes to launch,” a computerized voice says, echoing through the room.

  “Let’s hurry.” Sam moves toward a weapon’s cabinet.

  I turn to Oliver, who’s grimacing. “Sorry,” I say. “We can still not do this, if you want.”

  “Nah, it’s fine,” he says. He adjusts his glasses and moves to inspect a case full of small bots that remind me of cam-bots, but they’re shooting lasers. A girl sticks out her foot, and he trips flat on the floor.

  “Hey,” I snap.

  She smirks and walks away. A few other girls giggle.

  I help Oliver to his feet, narrowing my eyes at the girl’s back. What’s wrong with her?

  “Thanks,” he mumbles.

  Beside me, Ariadne braids her hair and inspects the weapons compartments with curious eyes.

  “You okay too?” I ask.

  “Yeah.”

  I guess I’m the only one who’s not sure about this. Maybe because Sam hasn’t even explained the game yet.

  I turn to search for a weapon and realize he’s coming over.

  “You know, Extractions never get to do this before they complete their initial training,” Sam says with a wide, mischievous smile. His teeth are a perfect, polished line. “You should be happy I’m allowed to make exceptions.”

  “How touching,” I say.

  “Blondie’s grateful,” he says, taking a step closer to Ariadne. “Aren’t you, love?” He reaches for her hand.

  She snatches it away from him, looking disgusted. But the color rises in her cheeks.

  Amusement sparks in his eyes.

  “Ignore him,” I say, and step to one of the cabinets. Round purple guns sit behind the glass, under a sign that reads DEATH RAYS.

  “Stick with the coppers.” Sam stretches a hand to reach into a black net strung above the cabinet beside me. He removes a small copper-colored laser gun. “They have knives too.” A blade pops out when he clicks a button. “You can blast an enemy or stick one in the gut, and it’s just the right size for you.” He tosses it to me, his eyes dancing with malice.

  The girl who tripped Oliver giggles. Several others glance at me, some smirking, others whispering to each other.

  I tuck the copper between my legs and work my curls into a bun, ignoring the girls. “Tell me what the game is.”

  Sam grins. “You don’t like surprises?”

  “I want to be prepared.”

  He tosses a copper to Ariadne, who blushes a deeper shade of pink. He turns away and squats to find something in a giant steel drawer. “We’re going to fight Unstables.”

  Beside me, the copper Ariadne was holding a moment ago clatters to the floor.

  I stare at Sam. “They’re not real,” I say, hoping he won’t correct me.

  “They can’t be,” Oliver says, coming back over with a frown. He snaps on an armored vest. “We shot all the ones in the Core.”

  The gunshots from the other night echo in my ears, and I flinch. But Oliver’s right. Unstables are usually kept in the Karum treatment facility on the Surface. That’s where they’re killed too, unless Commander Charlie decides to use them for an Extraction welcome ceremony.

  “Of course they’re fake,” the annoying girl snaps. “It’s a simulation.”

  “Be nice,” Sam says. He straightens with a silver gun in his hand that has a rounded barrel and lots of buttons on its side. His eyes meet mine. “An army of Unstables attacks both our teams. The team who kills the most wins.”

  “How much time do we have?”

  “It’s different every game.”

  The computerized voice breaks in: “Thirty seconds to launch.”

  The annoying girl and the others adjust their weapons and move toward the round door into the main dome, pushing against each other to get closer.

  “Follow orders in there,” Sam says. “Do whatever I say. Got it?”

  I lie and say, “Yes.”

  “One more thing.” He takes a step closer to me, and his hot breath touches my ear. It smells acrid and smoky. “If you and Blondie make us
lose,” he whispers, “my fingers might accidentally tap a button on my gun when the muzzle’s pointed your way. Any injuries you get in there will hurt like krite. So I wouldn’t make us lose if I were you.”

  My stomach clenches.

  “Ten seconds,” the voice says.

  I grit my teeth, shove Sam away, and snatch two laser-proof vests. I throw one to Ariadne, who fumbles for it, but catches it.

  Sam’s kidding. He’s angry I passed Colonel Parker’s test earlier, and he’s joking to mess with my head. But he still watches me, and the fire in his gaze makes my legs wobbly.

  The lights dim, and a whir picks up. A round door in front of us slides open.

  I snap my vest into place. I grip my copper.

  The computerized voice offers two more words: “Launching Phantom.”

  14

  We step into the pitch blackness of the dome.

  There’s a flash. Giant letters type their way onto a screen overhead: MISSION OBJECTIVE: DESTROY UNSTABLES. MISSION TIME: TEN MINUTES.

  “Ten minutes?” Oliver’s voice cracks, somewhere to my right.

  I hold my breath.

  The letters disappear and the blackness warps. Thick green stems rise out of the ground, higher and higher, sprouting purple petals that form curly and spiral shapes. Other plants and trees grow with spiny limbs and weeping veils of leaves. Mud squishes beneath my boots where water seeps into the dirt, more and more of it, flowing and flowing.

  “Move it!” Sam shoves the butt of his gun into my arm.

  I splash into the trees and bump into Oliver. Huffing, I narrow my eyes as fire slides through my shoulder. “You didn’t have to—”

  “Shut up,” Sam says, stopping on firmer ground and scanning the jungle.

  Where the water seeped into the dirt, there’s a river now, deep and murky. Members of both teams stand on the other bank. Ariadne’s over there. She’s looking wildly around, backing up into a tree. I have a bad feeling she won’t be okay over there. Some of the boys give her strange looks.

  But the river looks too deep, and I can’t swim. I can’t cross it.

  “What now?” Oliver says. He’s the only member of the other team on our side.