I wasn’t going home.
“Wren.” I looked up to see Callum’s excited face peering at me. He broke the camera off my helmet, took my com from my clenched hand, and tossed them both on the ground. “I think we should run.”
TWENTY
I GRABBED CALLUM’S HAND AND WE WOVE THROUGH A DARK alleyway, breaking into a full sprint as we headed for an abandoned shelter. In the years after the war it was meant to help the humans get back on their feet. When the drug dealers and gangs took over Rosa, HARC boarded it up.
We were at the edge of Rosa, near the city line and in the heart of the slums. HARC was on the other side of town, past the fields, but it wouldn’t take them long to dispatch officers. In terms of hiding, this was not the best place. The houses were tiny and the tents on the next road over would provide even less cover.
An alarm pierced the silence and a spotlight swooped across the area. I scrambled to the back of a shack, pressing myself against the rickety wood. Callum did the same, his eyes on the sky as a shuttle spotlight surveyed the area. It moved down the street and he looked over at me.
“Should we keep going?” he whispered.
Yes. Maybe? I wasn’t sure. Almost every decision I’d made over the last five years wasn’t really mine. I knew the rules of HARC and I followed them.
The spotlight swung to us and Callum gripped my hand as we took off across the patchy grass surrounding the shack. I heard the bullets before several pierced my shoulders and bounced off my helmet.
“This way,” I called, dropping Callum’s hand as we crossed the dirt road. The spotlight lost us as I wove in between houses and darted over lawns, but I could see officers in the distance, a huge group of them dispersing on the streets.
I came to a stop at the back of the old shelter and yanked so hard on the door that the building actually swayed like it was going to fall over. I stumbled as the door swung open easily and stepped inside only to reel back, hitting Callum’s chest.
People. Humans, everywhere. They smelled like grime and filth and infection. I knew that smell.
I recognized the humans huddled in their own little corners, some using only clothes or sticks to mark their territory. Saw the track marks on their arms, the shaky hands, the desperation etched on their faces.
As a child, I lived in a similar place for months while my parents floated on an intense high, a drug that lasted so long they often didn’t have time to come down before finding an opportunity to shoot up again. The squatters in the abandoned buildings were the worst off of the slum dwellers, the ones who gave every cent they had to the drug dealers and criminals who had stalled Rosa’s progress.
I’d forgotten most of my time squatting with my parents, but I remembered the smell and how I used to hold the blanket to my nose at night to block it while I slept.
Callum gagged, which drew a few interested looks. Some of the humans blinked and stared, too high to recognize the two Reboots standing in front of them. But others weren’t that far gone.
I raised my fingers to my lips, begging for silence, but it was useless. A regular human was bad, but these people were worse.
They screamed and I was struck by the sudden impulse to pull out my gun and start shooting. There were about thirty of them. How long would it take to kill them all?
“We can go out that way.”
Callum’s voice sliced through my thoughts and I looked over at him in surprise. I had almost forgotten he was there.
It occurred to me that he would be horrified if I started killing people. He’d give me that look, like I was a monster. He had been willing to die because he refused to take a life.
But me, I contemplated shooting everyone.
“Wren,” he said, pulling urgently on my arm.
I let him drag me to the front door and out into the darkness. We took off in the opposite direction of the spotlight.
I forgot that I hated humans. I had been clinical about the assignments; that’s how we were trained. But I hated them, even when I was one.
Dirty, disgusting, violent, selfish, impulsive, and now I had to spend days—weeks—wading through them to find Adina and this mythical Reboot reservation.
I wanted to hate Callum for it, but my brain immediately screamed at only me. Me, the one who could never get Callum to follow the rules. Me, who couldn’t train him well enough to survive inside HARC. Me, who brought him into this madness, where he was most likely going to be killed anyway.
Bullets peppered the ground as we ran, biting at Callum’s ankles and spewing blood across the dirt. It slowed him down, so I pulled ahead and grabbed his arm to tug him along.
The houses were closer together, the night quieter as we crossed into the nicer area of the slums. The bullets from above stopped and I thought maybe they had lost us.
But the ground crew had found us. The officers, six, seven—no, nine of them, came barreling around a corner, their guns poised.
“Duck,” I said, pushing his head down as they fired.
I left him on the ground and flew at the soldiers. I recognized a couple familiar faces through their plastic masks, although the terror splashed across them was new.
I slammed my foot into an officer’s chest as he fired at my head, dodging the shot and knocking the gun out of his hand. The others tried to grab me but I darted away, faster than their little human eyes could keep track of.
I lifted the gun. One, two, three. I shot each one in the chest, ignoring the bullets that tore through my jacket and bounced off my helmet.
One of the soldiers unhooked a grenade from his belt and tossed it frantically in my direction, missing by several feet.
Callum.
The grenade sailed past him and hit the house just behind him. He dove for the ground as the blast blew out the back of the little wooden shack, engulfing the lawn, and him, in flames.
The barrel of a gun pressed against my forehead. The panic hit, for only a moment, and I kicked his legs as the bullet grazed my ear. My fingers tightened around my gun and I fired a shot into his chest.
Another blast rocked the ground, and I snatched a grenade off the dead officer’s belt and launched it at the men running for me.
One remained, and I turned to see him taking aim at Callum, who was on the ground, trying to extinguish the flames lapping up his legs.
I fired three times, my aim messy as fear took over. The final soldier fell after the third shot and I dove for Callum, jumping on top of him and rolling us through the dirt. I smothered the lingering flames with my hands and hopped off him, pulling him to his feet.
He swayed, his hands shaking as he lifted them to examine the damage. His skin was red, charred in places. His shirt was almost totally gone, his pants nothing but scorched threads.
“Are you all right?” I asked, swiftly taking a glance around.
“Yes,” he stammered. “I’m—I’m sorry, I tried to get away, but as soon as I got the first fire out they threw another one and—”
“It’s fine,” I said, taking his hand as gently as I could. “Can you run?”
He nodded, wincing as we took off. We only had to go a block; I was headed to the closest hiding place I could think of.
The large square trash receptacle was piled too high, as usual, and sat not far from the brick wall of the schoolhouse. I pushed the large gray container closer to the wall, gesturing for Callum to get behind it. My first instinct was to jump inside and bury ourselves beneath the trash, but if I were an officer, I would immediately look in every place with a lid or door that shut. We weren’t entirely covered behind the trash bin—they’d be able to see us from the side, at the right angle—but it was such an open place to hide I hoped they wouldn’t even think to look for us there.
I edged around and leaned against the wall next to Callum, casting a worried glance in his direction. I’d never been burned to the extent he was—his arms were black in places—but I remembered the pain of lesser burns well. The stinging had been impossible to tot
ally shut out, mixing with the uncomfortable sensation of new skin stretching over the dead.
He held his arms away from his body and scrunched his face up in a way that made me want to gather him into my arms. That would only make it worse, though.
I couldn’t look at him anymore, so I pressed my palms against my eyes and wished I’d paid closer attention to Callum’s healing time. Ten minutes? Twenty?
I squeezed my eyes shut, but when I pushed the image of Callum’s pain-filled face out of my head all I saw was the drug den.
“Stay really still.”
I took in a sharp breath as the memory came crashing down, as clear as if it had just happened.
“Don’t look at her.”
It was my mom speaking, her putrid breath caressing my face as she whispered in my ear and locked her arm around my tummy so tight it hurt.
I didn’t listen to her. I had looked up, past the other humans huddled in fear around the den, to the face of the Reboot in the center of the room.
She saw me staring, her light green eyes shining in the darkness.
“One-thirteen.” She spoke to the other Reboot and he turned. She pointed at me.
“What?” he asked.
“It’s a kid.”
“So?”
“So she shouldn’t be here, should she? Look at this place.”
“That’s none of our concern. We’re just here to get the assignment.”
“But—”
“Seventy-one,” he interrupted sharply.
She closed her mouth, turning to look at me sadly as she left. I’d stared even after she was gone, wishing I could follow her.
My mom must have noticed, because she pushed me off her lap, her face angry and disgusted.
My heart beat strangely from the memory, the faces of my parents flooding my mind. My mom had been blond, like me, although her hair was darker from the dirt and grease. My dad had big bushy eyebrows that were constantly knitted together in sadness or deep thought.
I clenched my hands against my helmet, willing the images out. I hated it here. I didn’t want to remember these things. I didn’t want to go to Austin. The pain that hit my chest was so intense that for a moment I thought someone had shot me.
“Wren.”
Callum’s voice jolted me out of my thoughts and I looked up to see his adorable worried face.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
His skin hadn’t healed everywhere yet; I could see wounds closing and turning pink in front of my eyes. But he looked so much better that I was struck by a wild urge to throw my arms around his neck.
“Yes. Are you?”
Callum turned and pressed his body against mine, placing his palms flat against the wall behind me. I mashed myself into the brick, taken aback by his sudden closeness.
“How did you do it?” he asked, eyes twinkling as he smiled at me. “How did you get Leb to help?”
“I went on a solo mission with Leb, and I captured this human who said they were helping Reboots escape. Sending them to some Reboot reservation. I made a deal.”
“Something about his daughter?”
“I had to promise to go rescue her. She’s a Reboot in Austin.” My words came out strained, breathless. I couldn’t speak right with his body so close to mine.
“What is this Reboot reservation? Reboots are really just living there? Free?”
“I don’t know. I doubt it, to be honest.”
“So we get Adina, meet these humans, and then go to this reservation?”
“Yes.”
“Where are we going to go if it’s not there?”
“I don’t know,” I said, the panic gripping my chest again. “I didn’t think about it. I was just . . .” I stopped, hoping I wouldn’t have to finish the sentence. But he only raised his eyebrows in question. “I didn’t want you to die.”
He slipped his hands over my cheeks and tilted my face up so I had no choice but to stare into his dark eyes. I’d thought he couldn’t get any closer, but he leaned in and my body folded into his. His chest rose and fell against mine and I let my hands rest on it.
“Thank you.”
I blinked, not expecting gratitude. Not sure if I deserved it. I didn’t know what to say in response, but he wasn’t looking at me like he expected one.
He had to give his helmet a little shove and dip his head down to kiss me, but I didn’t believe he was actually going to do it until I felt his lips gently press against mine. My body jolted in surprise and I felt him smile against my lips.
And I was totally gone.
My toes needed no urging this time. I rose up on them as far as I could go and wrapped my arms around his neck. He dropped his hands to my waist and hugged me against his body.
It wasn’t how I had thought it would be. Kissing had sort of puzzled me. As a human I had thought it seemed dangerous—an easy way to spread germs. As a Reboot it had confused me. I wasn’t entirely sure why people liked doing it.
Now I was only confused as to why a person would want to kiss anyone but Callum.
When he lifted his head from mine I almost pulled it back down again, but he smiled and I didn’t want to miss that.
“I told you you liked me.”
I laughed and utter delight danced across his face, like he hadn’t been sure that statement was true.
He stepped away and pulled what was left of his shirt over his head. He unhooked his helmet, carefully placed it on the ground, and studied his pants, which were more like shorts with a few strands of fabric. I could see his black underwear poking through. He plopped onto the ground and I slid down the wall next to him. My brain wanted to continue running but my legs were limp and wobbly suddenly.
“That really hurts, by the way,” he said, holding his arm out to look at his new skin. “Have you ever been burned?”
“Not like that,” I said quietly, my voice shaking.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, scooting closer to me. “Were you worried about me?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and mock frowned at him in response, which made him smile wider. He reached for me and I felt a blush cross my face.
“Callum, you’re in your underwear.”
“I have pants on. Sort of.” He reached for me again, his eyebrows furrowing when he took one of my hands in his. “You’re cold. Come here.”
“Aren’t you cold?” I asked as he pulled me into his lap and I wrapped my arms around his bare shoulders.
“No. It’s not cold.”
I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead he leaned forward and buried his head in my neck, his lips gently pressing against a spot that made my stomach do a happy dance.
“You smell so good,” he mumbled, kissing my neck again.
“No, I don’t,” I said, trying to move away in embarrassment. “I smell like death.”
“You’re crazy,” he said with a chuckle, holding me tighter. “You’re not dead. You don’t smell like death.”
“I was dead a long time.”
“And now you’re not. Hence the alive smell.” He lifted his head and pressed his lips to mine.
I meant to push him away with more force, but my body didn’t actually want him to go anywhere. His lips left mine only by about an inch.
“We shouldn’t stay here too long,” I said.
“Why not? It’s so cozy. The fresh night air, mixed with the perfume of rotting trash. It’s beautiful.”
“They’ll be—” I stopped as I heard the sounds of footsteps approaching.
“No visual,” I heard an officer say. “Nine dead, couldn’t have been long ago.”
Callum looked at me in surprise at the number and I focused on the ground, afraid of seeing disgust in his eyes.
“Get ready to run,” I whispered in his ear.
“Check in there,” an officer yelled.
Footsteps crunched on gravel in our direction and I held my breath, afraid to move even an inch. The lid to the trash bin banged open, hitting the sid
e of the schoolhouse above our heads. Trash rustled as the officer dug around inside.
“All clear,” he yelled. The footsteps faded, the yells from the other officers disappearing in the distance.
Callum grinned, bouncing me in his arms until I cracked a smile. “Why am I not surprised you picked a good hiding spot?”
“We got lucky,” I said, unhooking my helmet and setting it on the ground.
“I wouldn’t look too hard for us, if I were them. Not if they know it’s you they’re up against.”
“I . . . um . . . those nine guards . . .” I cleared my throat. I wanted to ask if he was horrified that I’d killed all those humans, but he didn’t look horrified. I didn’t want to bring it to his attention that perhaps I was a monster, and not someone he should be kissing.
“I know,” he said quietly. “You had to save us.”
I gave him a relieved smile, letting out a slow breath. Maybe, if I’d tried harder, I could have just injured a few. I decided not to point that out to him.
“I want to do something while we’re in Austin,” he said, giving me his big eyes. “I want to go see my family.”
I immediately shook my head. “No. That’s not a good idea.”
“But we have to go anyway, right? To get Adina?”
“Yes, but—”
“I just want to see them. Tell them I’m okay.”
“They won’t . . .” I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t tell him they wouldn’t want to see him. That they would consider their son dead, and this boy only an illusion who looked similar.
“They’ll want to see me,” he said in response to my unspoken words. “I know HARC says we can’t have contact with our families, but they don’t know my parents. And my brother, David . . .” He rubbed his hand over his short, dark hair. “We were actually sort of close. I think he’d want to see me.”
I didn’t know his parents, either, but I could guess their reaction if a monster who looked like their son showed up on their doorstep.
“How old is your brother?” I asked.
“Thirteen.”
“He didn’t get sick when you did?”
He shook his head. “No, he was fine when I died.”
A thirteen-year-old would probably be more accepting of a Reboot than an adult, given that it could still happen to him at any time. Still, with his parents there I didn’t see that going well. “I don’t think you should go.”