The Haven

  I sat up, scooted till I leaned against the wall, and rested against the coolness of the plaster. My eyes were hot inside the sockets. My brain felt like it burned. My skin, all of it, was so sensitive, I couldn’t touch it. My clothes felt like sandpaper.

  What had happened? Why was I here? Little by little I remembered.

  Dr. King. Principal Harrison.

  “No.” My mouth, lips, tongue, even my teeth felt swollen.

  Abigail was gone. Daniel, too.

  That fight. That huge fight. That we lost.

  I couldn’t swallow. What about Gideon, where was he? Had he gotten free? Had anyone?

  The side of my head ached, and when I touched it, I felt a lump.

  I remembered Dr. King’s fingers squeezing into my shoulders when he came into my room later. The way he had said, “I don’t care who may have paid for you to be cloned, Shiloh, you will die.”

  I refused to think of it.

  I wouldn’t give up.

  I would keep fighting, like Gideon said.

  When I stood, my neck felt like string. Pain pounded all through me. Where was the corner? Putting my hands out, I touched the wall. It was smooth as glass. It would be hard to know where I’d started, so I took my shirt off and dropped it on the floor. Then began the slow process of going around the room, so sick, I felt it would have been better never to fight.

  “You’ve been to Isolation before.” My voice echoed. I put my shirt back on and sat down. I would wait.

  * * *

  I’m not sure how much time passed. Security brought me Tonic. That was different. Why Security? Several times I faked drinking the stuff, taking off my jeans and spitting the liquid into the back pocket where it dried to a crust.

  I slept on the floor, cold. Everything burned like my incision had, my stomach tumbled over itself, my fingernails broke against the floor, the walls, looking for the entrance I knew was here somewhere.

  Male and female Security came in the Isolation room together again and again, forcing me to drink the Tonic. How did they know? I spit out as much as I could. But they were stronger. The Whole are always stronger.

  Now the headache bloomed bright as fireworks. It spread everywhere. I felt it in my toenails, my eyelashes, the skin on my calves. Why so intense?

  If I got out of here, I would fight back.

  No, when I got out of here, I would fight back.

  I would.

  I held my hands over my ears to stop the pain.

  If the ache went away, I would fight back.

  I would.

  For Abigail. For Daniel and Gideon. For every Terminal.

  For me.

  I would fight back.

  I would.

  Maybe.

  The hall is as white and cold as snow. It’s slippery as ice. I can’t stand up. So I crawl.

  In one corner there is Tonic, like blood. I run my finger through it to mark my place. Crawl until I’m in the operation room. It takes hours. Years.

  Dr. King, big as life, holds a spade. Gideon is on the operating table. He looks at me.

  “Shiloh,” he says, “help.”

  Dr. King raises the spade.

  “Shiloh.”

  There is dirt on the edge of the blade.

  “Get free.”

  Dr. King swings the tool down with all his might.

  There’s a thump. A splatter.

  The sounds makes my head crash in on itself.

  Gideon says nothing.

  Blood leaks from his mouth, a drop at a time.

  I mark my spot in the deep red liquid.

  25

  “Shiloh.”

  My head pounded.

  “Shiloh.”

  I looked around the room. I’d gone blind. When I peered at my own hands, I seemed washed out. Pale. Was I fading away?

  Words pressed close.

  “I’m going to get you out. I’ll get you free.”

  “Gideon?”

  “I’m outside the door. Be quiet. I wanted to make sure where you were.”

  I heard the turning of a key and there appeared in the wall a rectangle of darkness the color of ink.

  “Come toward my voice, Shiloh. Hurry.”

  “I can’t see,” I said. I felt hot, too hot to move, like only bones and skin were left of me.

  “It’s just the lights,” Gideon said. “Recovery won’t be so bad this time.”

  When he reached for my hand my head swirled. I heaved.

  “You’ve only been in here a few days, the Tonic won’t be so hard to come off. We’ve got to go.”

  “I can’t.”

  My legs are done moving. I crawled too far.

  Gideon was close. His touch burned the meat from the bones of my face. “You have to go. We have to go. They got everyone but me.”

  I tried to stand and staggered.

  You don’t have to go with him, my head said. But I did. I remembered that. I had to go because Gideon was fighting for the Terminals. And so was Abigail, my best friend.

  “I’m fighting for the Terminals,” I said.

  Gideon slipped his arm around my waist, then he hugged me. I lifted my arms, heavy as trees, and put them around his neck.

  This was what I had wanted to do all along. Even when I was full of Tonic and didn’t know I wanted it, this was what I wanted. Someone to hold me.

  My eyes stung with tears.

  Gideon helped me walk, closed the door with a click, and the world fell into a deep quiet.

  “I’m surprised there’s no guard,” he said. “I guess he didn’t think I’d try to get you.” He handed me something to drink. “Here.”

  “No.”

  “This will help. I knew it was here. Adam told me. I found it when I came to get you. Drink the whole thing.”

  “Too much. I can’t.” Focusing was hard. The bottle seemed huge. Far too much for one Terminal to drink.

  Gideon put his hands on either side of my face. “It will cure you, Shiloh.”

  My eyes buzzed. “Promise?”

  He nodded and uncapped the drink. “They give this to us to help us get ready for the operations. It clears the Tonic out of the blood. You’ll be better in an hour. And if you can walk now…”

  I drank the liquid down as fast as I could. It smelled like plants, was the color of dirt, and tasted bitter. But it soothed me, made the pain not-so-quite-there. I swallowed it all, then gave the container back to Gideon.

  Where were we? Isolation was in the Infirmary building. But I couldn’t remember getting here. “Where is he?”

  “Dr. King? I don’t know. Maybe looking for me. Maybe not. He doesn’t think I’ll do anything to stop him. We’ve had a little talk.”

  “You spoke to him? What about?”

  “He asked why we fought. Wondered what our connections are.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I pretended like I didn’t know a thing. But he knows I do.” Gideon pulled me closer in a sideways hug. “Don’t worry, Shiloh. I’m not good enough for him. I have no soul.”

  “Neither does Dr. King,” I said.

  Gideon put his lips on mine and I didn’t fight him. I let him press against me, feeling my body warm. His mouth was hot on mine. I reached for his face, ran my palms over his skin. So warm. And smooth, too. He pulled away and I touched his throat, touched the line of his jaw. I put my hand on the back of his neck.

  “Do that again,” I said. And he did, pulling me so close, I felt his heart beating.

  Were your heart and soul the same thing? If you had a heart, did you have a soul?

  Gideon let me loose and, holding tight to each other, we started down the hall.

  * * *

  Even after the long walk from Isolation, with him supporting me as we went, I remembered Gideon’s lips on mine. My brain fought to clear itself. I felt the drink coursing through my body. The aches in my skin left first, in my joints next, and finally, finally the burning pain in my face and head was gone. There was tha
t same residual feeling I’d felt the first time off the Tonic, the jarring flashes of light when I moved fast, but I was careful and took light steps.

  And still I thought of kissing Gideon.

  We went downstairs. Would he kiss me again? I stood on tiptoe, wanting him to, and he leaned his face toward mine. He ran his fingers over my cheekbone.

  “We have to see if we can rescue the others. He has them.” He folded me in his arms. I heard him swallow.

  If it all ends for me, I thought, my face pressed into Gideon’s jacket, it was worth this little bit of being normal.

  * * *

  The hall was empty. At the end a door stood wide open.

  “That’s his office.”

  “Dr. King’s here?”

  “Must be.”

  I did not want to do this. “What time is it?”

  Gideon shrugged. “It took me awhile to find you.”

  “And the others?” In my mind I saw Abigail’s face, saw her begging me to keep her safe, to not let them take her. “Gideon? Why are you here?” The question came out a whisper.

  “Adam. I guess Adam.” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  The recovery room was so clean, I couldn’t smell anything.

  They have no souls.

  It isn’t human.

  She looks like Victoria.

  Someone lay on the bed. Part of someone. I pressed my hands to my eyes. Tried to block what I saw.

  “Abigail?” I stumbled forward. Yes. There she was and wasn’t. Oh. No no no. “Abigail.”

  Why had this happened? My eyes couldn’t make sense of things.

  Go to her.

  My feet propelled me until I stood near Abigail’s bed.

  I wanted to say her name again, but my mouth didn’t open.

  She was suspended a few inches above the mattress, held together by wires and cords and plugs. She seemed to float. Like those eyes in the jar.

  I made myself speak. “I’m with you.” Could she hear me? Her face was slack, her lips formed a grimace like something caused her pain. What was left of her hair was caught up in a net. The braid was gone. “Gideon and me. We’re…” We’re what? “We’re getting help. We’re getting out of here and we’re getting help. We’re going for the female in the video, for Ann. We’ll find her and I’ll come back for you.” I spoke fast.

  A plastic tube ran from Abigail’s side onto a cloth on the coverlet.

  Just a gentle tug here, Shiloh.

  Ouch, that hurts, that hurts.

  I know it does.

  A cool hand on my forehead.

  The drain’s gone now and soon you’ll be good as new.

  I touched the scar on my side near where my lung had been.

  That’s when I cried. So hard, I had to cover my mouth to keep the sound tight to me. I leaned against the bed where Abigail lay. The stand, holding the bag of fluids that ran into her one arm, rattled.

  “It isn’t fair,” I said. I covered my face, lay my head on the sheet near her, and wept. “It isn’t.”

  Whoever said a Terminal’s life is fair? came into my mind. No one! No one said anything for a Terminal!

  Gideon and Daniel were right. We had to save ourselves.

  I stroked Abigail’s cheek, leaving a damp line of my tears.

  “Shiloh.” Gideon’s voice sounded like it perched on my shoulder. “I’m going to see if I can find Daniel. I’ll be back. Stay quiet. Dr. King is close.”

  The whole time Gideon was gone, I stood near Abigail and cried. I touched her skin, cool under my fingers.

  “It will be okay,” I said. Where had that lie come from? It wouldn’t be okay. Things would never be the same again. Because here was Abigail, right here, and she couldn’t move and she wouldn’t be able to get away with us and she wasn’t even complete anymore. She was just pieces. That’s all. A monitor showed the rhythm of her forced breathing, another the beating of her heart.

  Her heart.

  Her heart and soul.

  Panic started in my chest, fluttering like butterflies, then turned to a swarm of bees.

  “I swear it will be okay, Abigail. We’ll get help.”

  “This isn’t good, Shiloh,” Gideon said. “Abigail doesn’t look good at all.” His voice cracked and his eyes were red. “We have to go. We need to move before someone finds out we’re gone. There’s no time.”

  “Did you find Daniel?”

  Gideon shook his head.

  I said, “I can’t leave her.” The bees had flown to my voice box and hid the sound with their buzzing. “She’ll be alone.”

  “No,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “No, she’ll be safe here. Someone will check on her. I promise. They’re keeping her alive.”

  He looked at me and I could see the lies in what he said, could see that he recognized those lies, too.

  “She’ll never get away now.” I turned to him, my head swimming with the movement. “We’ve got to take her with us when we go. Tell me we can.”

  He clasped my shoulders. “She’ll die for sure if we take her. And so will we. We can’t be burdened with someone we have to carry.”

  “But…”

  Gideon looked away. I knew what he was thinking.

  Daniel.

  Someone we had to carry.

  How would we move Daniel if we found him? If he was this bad? If he was worse?

  Abigail’s mouth was strained, lips pulled back in pain, teeth clenched. What had they done to make her face like that?

  Had she fought the way she did in the Dining Hall?

  “We have to go.”

  “Okay,” I said, and I leaned over and pressed my lips to her face. She was cool cool cool, her skin soft. “We’ll come back for her? Right? Promise me.”

  He didn’t even pause. “Yes, Shiloh. We will.” And this time there was no lie in his voice.

  26

  “What are you two doing?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, pulling the door closed to Abigail’s room behind me. My hands tightened to fists.

  Dr. King stood there in the hallway. He looked huge. “Gideon,” he said. “Shiloh. What a surprise. You both know these buildings are off-limits.” Dr. King sounded distressed. Not angry at all. And he looked so disappointed. It felt like all the good air was sucked away when Dr. King walked into the room. I tried not to be afraid, but I was.

  Gideon’s face didn’t change. I should touch him. Pull some of his calmness into myself. Could either one of them see my pulse pounding in my throat?

  Gideon didn’t respond to my touch. He just straightened. Stood taller. Like he had waited for this moment when we would stand face-to-face with Dr. King.

  “We’re looking for Daniel, Dr. King,” Gideon said. His voice was matter-of-fact. Like this was part of his duties as a Terminal. “We can’t leave him behind.”

  “You’re such a good Terminal, Gideon, thinking of your fellow beings.” He gave a sad smile. “Just like Adam. He was so much like you.” Dr. King shook his head, as though he couldn’t believe how similar Adam and Gideon were.

  “Don’t talk about him,” Gideon said. “He was good.”

  “Adam,” Dr. King said, “was amazing. The best thing I ever did.”

  Gideon said, “You had nothing to do with him. Adam was himself. He was one of the Whole who stood up for us all.”

  “Stood up for the Terminals?” Dr. King nodded. “Yes. And that was his undoing. He couldn’t be saved, nor could his mother. Even with all this technology, he couldn’t be saved.” Dr. King gestured to the hall we stood in.

  “You don’t save Terminals,” I said. “You use them to death.”

  “You’re right, Shiloh. But Adam was not just some Whole male. He was my flesh and blood. He was my son.”

  What?

  Gideon said, “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s just what I said, Gideon. Adam was my child. He should have been your Recipient. But he became the only Whole I couldn’t save because he wouldn’t
let me. Nor would his mother. They were against the work I did.”

  Gideon’s hand found mine. His fingers were cold. “That can’t be true.”

  “But it is.” Dr. King seemed to slump in on himself. He shrunk before my eyes. “He grew attached to you. And when he was old enough, he signed a waiver preventing me from using you to make him better in any way.”

  “And then there was the accident,” I said.

  Dr. King straightened. “This is hardly your business,” he said. He turned to Gideon. “I’ll let you off with this offense, Gideon,” he said, “because that’s what Adam would have wanted. But Shiloh—” He smiled, showing only his bottom teeth. “—you belong in the Isolation room. The mother of your Recipient would be appalled to know of this misdemeanor.”

  “We’re leaving,” I said.

  “I keep you all in the finest of circumstances.” Dr. King waved his hand around like this gesture would show all he had done for the Terminals. “Why would you even consider such a thing? Do you know how lucky you are to be in this hospital? In other hospitals, the Replicants are kept in cages. Kept like chickens, crammed together, uneducated. Treatment here is ethical. It’s good.”

  “We’re a product,” I said.

  Gideon stood silent, like his words had been stolen from him.

  Dr. King pursed his lips. “Not all of you. Your Daniel, for example. He wants to stay here.”

  “That’s not true,” Gideon said.

  “You may speak to him yourself. I was checking on him when the two of you—” Dr. King waved his hands around. “—entered the building illegally.”

  “Where is he?” Gideon’s voice was strained.

  “Go have a word with Daniel. Then you’ll see how you can benefit others if you so choose.”

  Dr. King led us to a room at the end of the hall. We all stood in the doorway.

  “As you can see,” Dr. King said, “he has legs.”

  Gideon didn’t move. It was like he was stuck. I stepped forward, to where Daniel lay on the bed. Unlike Abigail, he looked—what? Alive? Yes, that was it.

  “He made a trade. Legs for valuable information.”

  “What do you mean?” Gideon asked.

  Daniel appeared to be asleep. The odor of sickness filled the room.

  “You know.” Again Dr. King waved his hand and when he did, I saw Gideon in the movement. “I gave him a pair of legs. He let me know your plans. We’ve been communicating for some time.”