I had to keep going, head down, shuffling along. Be the same. I couldn’t attract any more attention than I already had. There was too much at risk now.
Could Gideon be trusted?
I wanted to trust. I thought of him with the sun at his back. The warmth of his body. How tall he was. I shouldn’t think anything negative against Gideon. I wouldn’t. That was reckless and might cause me to falter. And faltering would never do.
* * *
“I have a new novel for you,” Ms. Iverson said when math and Terminal history were over. “This is the story of the ultimate Terminal.” She held a book aloft. “It’s called Invisible Man.”
The cover showed someone in bandages wearing dark glasses, his face concealed.
Camille said, “He’s had something on his face removed.”
“Close, Camille,” Ms. Iverson said. “Let’s see.” She opened the book, pressed the cover back and read. “I am an invisible Terminal.”
My pulse quickened.
We were invisible here. If we made it out, would the Whole see us? Would they take notice?
“This next line,” Ms. Iverson said, “reminds me of Gideon.”
A few of our classmates looked toward Gideon, who raised his head, propped his chin against his hand.
Ms. Iverson read on. “‘I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids—and I might even be said to possess a mind—though not a soul. I am invisible, understand, simply because the Whole refuse to see me.’”
“They don’t see us,” he said. “Not really.”
“Some might,” I said, speaking out of turn.
“Not enough to step up for us and find the Cures we need.” This was quiet Peter, who never says anything.
Ms. Iverson didn’t answer. She started reading again.
The words were in my head. Sealed in cement. The only way I’d lose them was if I gave up.
I might even be said to possess a mind—though not a soul.
We had minds.
What about souls?
Good girl.
Miss Maria meant me. I wasn’t sure about the girl part, but I knew what it meant to be good.
Because we were. We behaved. We tried. Did being good mean that we had worth? Not financial worth, but value enough to live a full life?
There was no one in here who had ever done a bad thing.
We were invisible, yes, because the Whole refused to see us.
“Some of the Whole,” I said, speaking the words aloud, interrupting Ms. Iverson’s reading.
Gideon looked back at me. So did Daniel.
“What do you mean, Shiloh?” Ms. Iverson asked, setting the book in her lap.
Not one person in this room had done anything wrong. “You see us, Ms. Iverson,” I said.
She was quiet. And then she said, “Yes, I do, Shiloh.”
* * *
“The temperature is dropping a bit,” Gideon said. “This spring has been colder, longer, than normal.” His voice came from a dark corner. I swung around to meet him.
“Want to go outside?”
“For what?”
“No reason, really. Maybe walk to the gazebo? You lead the way, so we can make sure you can do it.”
I shrugged. “I can do it.”
Gideon came up next to me and we headed down the hall. “You made a mistake today, calling her out like that.”
Unease ran over my skin. “I know.”
“Daniel isn’t sure you’re a part of us because of what you said.”
“Of course I’m with you.”
“Are you sure?” Gideon’s voice was tentative. Did he feel the same way Daniel did? Did Abigail?
“The words came out. I tried to hold them in.”
Nothing from Gideon.
“I swear it, Gideon. I want to help us all. And I didn’t mean to draw attention. She seems someone we could trust.”
“What if she’s here as a plant?”
“She’s part of the Planting Committee.”
“No, Shiloh. Plants get information.”
“I don’t understand.”
“A plant is anyone put in a situation to learn information. Maybe Ms. Iverson’s nice because Dr. King wants her to find stuff out about us.”
“How do you know that?”
Gideon thought. “Good question. I just seem to know it. Maybe Adam told me.”
“You mean your Adam. Your Recipient.”
He dropped his head a little.
“Dr. King couldn’t save him,” I said. “Something happened. Like with my Recipient. Adam was too far gone and Dr. King couldn’t save him.”
The thought knocked at my brain. Dr. King’s own words. Couldn’t save him. And then there were Abigail’s words that Dr. King didn’t succeed 100 percent of the time.
“Let’s go,” Gideon said. “Let’s see if you know the way.”
We headed south, through the fire door to the stairwell. Down stairs. Farther south. A right. Another right and then a left. And there we were, to a basement door that led outside. We were at the end of the building closest to the gazebo.
“Good,” Gideon said, and he let out a sigh. “You’re doing great, Shiloh.”
Good girl.
“If something happens to me or Daniel, remember how to get out of here then go for help.”
“Nothing will happen.”
“I know,” Gideon said. “But if you needed to get Abigail out of here without me or Daniel, you could do it.”
“We’re going together. All four of us.” I stomped to the gazebo. I could see the astilbe bending, nodding their budding heads, their leaves waving. There was a first quarter moon high in the sky. It was white, bright. “Maybe we shouldn’t be out here.”
“I wanted to be with you, Shiloh.” Gideon took my hand and led me to the chairs under the latticed ceiling. Once, I sat out here with Abigail. We were both little. So little that our feet didn’t touch the ground when we sat. Strange that Haven Hospital & Halls would have something that made us ill. No older Terminal could sit here with someone else.
Gideon’s arms went around me and he tugged me up to his chest.
“What are you doing?” I asked, but I didn’t move away. Instead, I stood there stiff and let his arms encircle me.
His face bent closer to mine. Closer. And
a wave of shock shot through me when Gideon’s lips touched right above my own.
He was kissing me? I should fight! Run from this way of spreading germs! I’d dreamed this—perhaps now my dream was coming true and my life would be sucked from my body!
But this was not like getting your life sucked from you. My legs turned to oil and I had a hard time standing. I needed to lean into Gideon. His lips touched mine again. This was why Ms. Iverson let Mr. Tremmel kiss her and why Abigail kissed Daniel.
“I’m glad we’re here together.” His arms tightened around me and I stood there unsure of what to do. A light rain fell like it didn’t mean it. Gideon’s words were on my forehead, warming my skin. “You can put your arms around me, if you want.”
“Should I?” I moved my arms around his waist. Let my face rest against his jacket. The rain fell through the lattice above us.
My raw nerves settled. I felt … what? Safe?
The next kiss lasted longer, this time right on my mouth, lips parted so I felt Gideon’s breath on my teeth.
Terminals needed to touch. We needed to know comfort. Maybe touch could save us.
Or make us rebel.
I relaxed more into Gideon. My mind loosened, too. “Gideon, why do you seem Whole?”
He pulled back. “What do you mean?”
“You’re different. Without the Tonic, I see that. And you weren’t reported for throwing the chair. You had Adam when the rest of us had our Keepers taken away. Why?”
Gideon didn’t say anything for a long time. “I’m not sure, Shiloh.” The words came out in a steamy cloud. Then he kissed me again.
HAVEN
HOSPITAL&HALLS
Where You Matter
Established 2020
Note to all Staff
Any and all staff found assisting Terminals in rebellion will be terminated.
23
That night, when I was back in the room with one last kiss, I lay in bed thinking.
Of all the Terminals, there were two who seemed to have no risk. Me, because my Recipient mother wouldn’t allow it. And Gideon because of Adam.
And Dr. King allowed that.
Or maybe, I thought, as sleep overtook me, we were the most at risk because of those things.
* * *
“Shiloh?”
I felt a bit of a smile (a smile—on me?) when I saw Gideon.
He walked toward me, fast, Terminal females staring at him, moving to get out of his way.
“You shouldn’t be in the Females’ Hallway area,” someone said.
“Why are you here, Gideon?” Abigail sounded surprised.
“No questions,” he said to her. “I got caught.” He turned and walked away, toward the Dining Hall where we were all headed.
“Wait.” I started after Gideon, but Abigail grabbed my arm.
“No,” she said. “We know nothing.”
The last of the females heading to breakfast split apart around us, shuffling along, tense expressions on their faces.
“I knew this would happen,” Abigail said. “I knew it. Act normal. Act Terminal.”
I could smell breakfast omelets. The sweet odor of cooked onions. My stomach growled.
Abigail didn’t move her lips when she spoke. “What do you think happened?” There was panic in Abigail’s voice and her alarm scared me.
“I don’t know.” The floor felt uneven under my feet.
Terminals, male and female, met in the foyer outside the Dining Hall and were going through the double doors to their proper sides of the room. I didn’t search for where the Teachers were. Where Dr. King was.
Morning light splashed through the window. Bright. White. Cool looking.
Some Terminals lined up for their meals.
Dr. King came into the Dining Hall. His eyes caught mine and I dropped my gaze.
But I had seen it. Had seen the same look of confidence he wore in commercials on his face now. My mouth dried out.
I licked my lips. They felt hot from last night’s kiss. No. That couldn’t be.
Hands shaking, I got my breakfast, and keeping my steps as slow as I could, went to the table. There was little sound in the room. Just forks against plates, glasses being set on the table.
“It’s not lunch,” Matthew said. His voice came across the tables to where I usually sit with Abigail and Ruth. Ms. Iverson jerked her head up and she touched her throat.
The doors. The doors were opening during breakfast.
“It’s not lunch. It’s not.” The murmur went around the room. Even Teachers were surprised.
I sat, almost dropping my tray.
“What are they doing here now?” I heard Ms. Iverson ask. “It’s not been that long since the last removal. Why are they here now?”
Mr. MacGee hushed her. His hand went to his chest, like he was checking his own pulse.
Abigail poked at the omelet on her plate.
This was bad. Maybe the female, Ann, had lost the battle. Across the room, Gideon looked at me. Dr. King walked over and said something to him and Gideon nodded.
My heart slowed as the doors opened like a mouth, and Principal Harrison came through them alone, carrying the manila envelope.
“Hello, Terminals,” Dr. King said, walking over to join Principal Harrison. He adjusted his glasses, but his face was without emotion. He took the paperwork. “This is a different way to start the day, isn’t it?”
Principal Harrison rocked on his heels as he always did.
Start counting, my mind commanded but this time I wouldn’t.
I pressed my palms hard into my cheekbones so I wouldn’t have to see anything—even if I was the one they took.
“Shiloh!” Abigail’s whispered voice reached for me, but I shook my head at her. I couldn’t look. I shouldn’t look. Fear filled me. Rushed through my veins like a river might. Something was desperately wrong.
“There has been a change of plans,” Dr. King said into the microphone. I heard the envelope as it flapped in the air from him waving it around.
I grabbed Abigail’s hand, not caring who saw.
“Don’t do that,” Ruth said. “Abigail, Shiloh. No. Touching makes me sick.”
“We may have a bit of an epidemic.” Dr. King spoke on. “I know this is unusual. Someone last week and now this week and at breakfast, too.”
Abigail squeezed my hand. And I knew. I shook myself free of her. Pushed back my chair. Hands trembling against the table.
“Daniel.” The name echoed in my head. Several Terminals stared at me. Ms. Iverson waved me to sit down. Her face was blotchy.
“Daniel,” Dr. King said. “Oh, and Abigail.”
The air went soft as cotton. That cotton got caught in my throat. In my lung. In my eyes and under my nails. I couldn’t move.
“Shiloh, sit down.” My knees refused to bend. “Daniel, Abigail, after your meals, please come to the front office. Someone will be waiting. You’ll each need your prepared bag. I said sit down, Shiloh.”
There was no sound in the room. All the Terminals, all the Teachers, everyone was silent.
“No!”
The scream caught me off guard. I clutched my throat.
Was it me? Was I the one screaming?
Principal Harrison strode toward Gideon, who leapt to his feet and sprinted to Daniel.
“Run, Abigail!” I screamed so it felt like my throat ripped. “Run!”
Abigail jumped to her feet. Gideon ran for Daniel. Principal Harrison moved like a cat. He slipped, fell to one knee. “Go. Go! Daniel, go!” Abigail’s voice was shrill. I saw a Terminal cover her ears.
Daniel backed his chair away from the table, spun out on the shiny floor, caught traction, and peeled away. Gideon ran behind him, grabbed the wheelchair handles, and pushed Daniel toward the doors.
The Dining Hall erupted. Teachers stood, looked around as though they weren’t sure where to go. Terminals hid under the tables, some ran, a few fought Teachers. Dishes crashed to the floor. Everything came to life around us—more life than any of these Terminals had ever seen.
“Go,” I said to Abigail, giving her a push. “Go, go go!” And she did. She stepped onto her chair and ran down the length of the table, her arm held out for balance. Two Terminals followed, climbing on the tabletops. One female fell. Then several Terminals screamed. The younger males and females called out for help, mouths open wide in tearless crying.
Terminals blocked those Teachers who ran at Abigail and Gideon and Daniel. Mr. MacGee and Dr. King both grabbed at Gideon, who managed to twist away.
Abigail made it to the Dining Hall doors, which crashed shut almost in her face.
“Iverson, get your ward,” Principal Harrison hollered. But Ms. Iverson looked down at her plate as though none of this were happening around her.
He caught Abigail in the corner, grabbed and jerked her around. He pulled her arm up behind her back. The lunchroom was pandemonium. Someone bellowed for quiet. Ms. Iverson jumped up, ran to Principal Harrison.
Abigail got free, swung at him, hitting him under the eye.
I ran then, screaming as I went. “Abigail!” Principal Harrison pushed her to the floor. He swung back, knocking Ms. Iverson off her feet.
Mr. Tremmel appeared out of nowhere. He pulled Ms. Iverson to safety.
“Help Abigail!” She was screaming. “Paul, help Abigail!”
But Mr. Tremmel locked his arms about Ms. Iverson and pulled her close.
The doors burst open and Security swarmed in the room. Two males, huge males, trapped Abigail.
Terminals rushed around.
“It’s okay,” Principal Harrison said like he was crooni
ng a song. “It’s okay, Abigail. You are all right. Safe.” He pulled her to a standing position.
“Let her go,” I said. “Fight, Abigail. Fight.”
Someone knocked me to the ground and I saw it was Dr. King. I couldn’t get up. The air was gone. I couldn’t even sit.
“Shiloh,” Abigail said. Tears streamed down her face. Dr. King scooped her into his arms but she hit and kicked. “Shiloh!”
My eyes and nose burned. I coughed.
Abigail was leaving. Both Gideon and Daniel had been stopped, too. They were on the floor, facedown. Arms locked behind them. The room was a mess. Teachers tried to calm Terminals. Only a few tried to help Gideon and me and Abigail and Daniel. Several threw up.
Let her stay, please, I wanted to say. A bit of air crept in my chest. I gasped, trying to relax.
Behind me, I heard Gideon call out my name.
My fingers tingled and my lips felt numb.
“Get him out of here!” Principal Harrison hollered at Mr. MacGee. “To your room, Shiloh.”
But I ignored everyone.
“Don’t let them take me, Shiloh.”
“Don’t give up,” I said.
Principal Harrison said, “You’re going to be okay, Abigail.” He looked at me. “Make this easier, Shiloh. Let her leave the room with dignity.”
Teachers cornered the aggressive Terminals. Others hushed the rest of my schoolmates. Security dragged Gideon from the room. I could hear him yelling to keep fighting all the way down the hall. Where was Daniel now?
Abigail hit the principal until he gave her a sharp shake. Then he carried her from the Dining Hall. When I tried to crawl toward her, Dr. King grabbed me and jerked me backwards so hard, I felt my neck snap.
“That’s not necessary, sir.” Ms. Iverson touched my arm. It felt cool in the heat on my skin.
Abigail was gone.
I slumped to the floor. A few young Terminals wailed. Someone called for backup.
But that wasn’t necessary.
The Terminals had been defeated.
24
I was in Isolation. I could smell it. The room was white, and cold, and I was on the floor. There was nothing in here, not even a seam to show me where the door was. No lock. No window. No bed or pillow or blanket.