The tall redheaded boy speaks first. “Why would you want to help us?”
I give them the only answer I have. “It’s what I was raised to do.”
Whether they believe the honesty of my words or they are just so hungry they can’t resist the smell of the cooking fish, the trio follows me off the road. I warn them I’m not traveling alone, and while the shorter of the girls looks terrified at the sight of Tomas and his knife, the others don’t appear concerned. Especially not when they spot the food and water waiting for them. They keep their bags close at hand as they sit on the ground. The tall girl starts to cry when I say, “Help yourself to the food.”
In between mouthfuls of fish, the tall girl tells us her name is Tracelyn. The other two are Stacia and Vic. All three are from Tulsa Colony. They were sitting together in the lecture hall when Dr. Barnes showed the map of the fourth test and, like us, they set up a meeting point. For them it was the fence line directly south of the starting location. It took them two days to find one another and they’ve been traveling near the road ever since, only leaving it to look for food and water. Food has been scarce, and they haven’t wanted to venture far from the road to find more familiar plant life. The road has been their greatest source of safety since they can see people coming and hide if necessary.
“We were hiding in an abandoned building when you rode past,” Vic admits, taking another helping of fish. “I thought you were miles and miles ahead, so it never occurred to me to look for bicycle tracks on the side of the road. I should have been more careful, but the smell of food distracted me. You guys seem to be playing things straight, but not everyone is.”
“We know.” Tomas meets Vic’s eyes. The two seem to size each other up.
Vic looks at the knife in the scabbard on Tomas’s belt, at the gun resting in my lap, and nods. “Someone took a couple potshots at me while I was getting out of the city,” he says.
“With a gun or a crossbow?” I ask.
Tracelyn’s eyes widen. “Someone’s shooting at people with a crossbow? I just don’t understand how anyone can do that kind of thing. I mean, the Testing committee said they’re going to evaluate us on the choices we make. They can’t possibly give someone a passing grade for shooting the competition. What kind of leader would that person be?”
“A strong one.” This from Stacia, who until now has sat cross-legged on the ground, eyes firmly fixed on her food. “The Fourth Stage of War would never have happened if the president of the United States had attacked the Asian Alliance. Instead, he tried to broker a worldwide coalition even when his own advisers said it was useless. He was a pacifist when the country needed aggression.”
Tomas shakes his head. “Striking first would have guaranteed a strike by the Asian Alliance. He knew the damage the first Three Stages of War had caused. He had to try and head off what he was certain would be the destruction of the world.”
“Fat lot of good it did.” Stacia laughs. “Isn’t that the point the Testing committee was making when they dropped us in one of the destroyed cities? They’re looking for candidates with a killer instinct.”
“I don’t believe that,” I say. “My father passed The Testing, and he’s a pacifist. He believes in creating, not destroying.”
Stacia shrugs. “Well, maybe he lied in his evaluation and told the committee he took a few of the candidates out while making his way back to civilization. I mean, how are they going to know he lied? It’s not like they can see what we’re doing out here.”
Or can they? I remember the camera in the skimmer. The ones in the log cabin we lunched in. The cameras in our sleeping quarters back at the Testing Center. The most direct route to Tosu City from Chicago stretches seven hundred miles. Tomas figures there is a twenty- or thirty-mile stretch of land in between the fence lines. There is no way the Testers have planted enough cameras in the landscape to cover every inch of ground. But what if they don’t need to? What if there is another way to keep track of our actions?
The conversation shifts from The Testing to talk of home. Tomas, Vic, and Tracelyn share information about our two colonies. Tulsa Colony has more than seventy thousand people living in the southern half of what used to be Tulsa, Oklahoma, and the countryside that stretches beyond the city limits. There is an oil refinery still active in Tulsa that Vic’s father works at. Tracelyn’s parents both work at the power plant—the largest operational plant in any of the colonies. Stacia doesn’t seem interested in sharing information about her family. She just lies back on the ground and stares at the sky as the stars begin to shine through the haze. I wonder what she is thinking as the boys compare weapons. Both girls have knives. Vic has a handgun like mine. I’m glad they’ve been honest about their protection, but I have to wonder if I will sleep knowing candidates I don’t fully trust are armed.
We leave the fire burning as we assign pairs to keep watch as the others sleep—Vic and Tomas, me and Tracelyn. Stacia doesn’t even question not being assigned watch duty as she curls up in a ball and falls asleep. I give my gun to Tomas, since he has first watch, and close my eyes while wondering if these people are worthy of the little trust we have given them. If not, I doubt I will live to see the morning.
But I do.
Tracelyn and I are awakened after several blissful hours of sleep and together watch the sun rise on a new day. In the peacefulness, I learn that if she makes it to the University, Tracelyn wants to be a teacher. She is also in love with a boy back home and was planning on marrying him. He wasn’t chosen for The Testing, which means they will most likely never see each other again.
“You’re lucky both you and your boyfriend were chosen,” she says with quiet sincerity.
“Tomas isn’t my boyfriend.” I feel the blush on my cheeks.
“You could have fooled me.” She gives me a wide smile. “I think he’s in love with you.”
“He’s just watching out for me. You know, since we’re from the same colony,” I say, but I can’t help the thrill I feel at her words. Deep down I hope she’s right, because with every day that passes I am more certain that I am falling in love with him.
She changes the subject and we talk about our families, the tests we’ve taken thus far, and the distance we still have to travel in order to pass this test. She seems so genuinely sweet and a touch too trusting, which coming from me is saying something. I share our experience with the clean pond of water and the perfectly green glade of grass that ultimately exploded. Whether or not she believes me, I know I’ve tried to help make her aware of the dangers out here.
As the sun rises, so do our companions. Stacia sits far away from us as we eat breakfast. Tomas and I barely rate a glance as we say goodbye and head out before the others can follow. We find the thicket where we hid our bikes, carry them to the road, and begin to pedal. As the miles pass, I cannot help but think of the candidates we left behind and wonder if they will cross the finish line. There is a quiet determination about Stacia that makes me think she’ll make it, but something about her fierce smile and the logic she ascribes to the Testing committee gives me concern for her companions.
As our bicycles eat up the miles, I think again about how the Testing committee will evaluate us when we arrive back in Tosu City. From everything I have seen thus far, I cannot believe Dr. Barnes and the other officials would be content with candidate reports on what occurred during the test. Which means somehow we are being monitored. If not all the time, then off and on. Enough for them to make their decisions.
By the time we pull off the road and find an abandoned farm to make camp at, I am certain I know how the Testers are keeping track of us. But I’ll have to wait to check my theory until we have settled in for the night. If I’m right, the Testers will know if I deviate from the routine Tomas and I have set since starting our journey.
There are clouds gathering to the west that indicate a storm is coming, and neither Tomas nor I have any interest in sleeping in a downpour. A faded, gray wooden barn that tilts to the le
ft catches our eye. Despite the leaning walls, the structure appears to be sound.
We step into the barn and startle a group of wild chickens. Four gunshots later we have three of them ready to be plucked and roasted. Their nests yield four light brown eggs, which we save for breakfast tomorrow. I try hard to act normal as we make and eat dinner, although Tomas shoots me more than one questioning look as we work. Finally, dinner is over. As I store leftovers in my bag, I use the opportunity to dig for something else. The minute my fingers close over it, my heart skips in anticipation and I pull it out into the light.
The identification bracelet I took from the girl we buried.
Every Testing candidate has one—two, actually, since a smaller band with our symbol is attached to our bags. We’ve all been instructed to wear them at all times. Since the clasps are hard to detect, I am certain most Testing candidates have heeded this rule. The bracelets are our identification. Could they also be an invisible leash designed to tell the Testers where we are and what we are doing?
The bracelet is a quarter of an inch thick and made of a silver metal. The disk affixed to the top contains an etching of the Testing candidate’s design and the back . . .
There. In the middle of the area directly behind the etched Testing symbol are three small holes. Pinpricks, really. So small, I would never have noticed them if I hadn’t been looking for something specific. But they tell me what I need to know.
Someone is listening.
Chapter 14
A SURGE OF satisfaction streaks through me, the kind I always feel when I ace a test. This time the pleasure is gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the slick, acrid taste of dread.
Have the Testers been recording every word we have spoken? Did they listen in on my conversations before I reached Tosu City or would they have not thought to bother since almost every move I made was recorded by their tiny cameras? I cannot help but pray for the latter to be true. Otherwise, they know. They know about my father. His nightmares. The warnings he gave me. He told me to trust no one, but I didn’t listen. I decided I knew best. I trusted Tomas. I told him everything, and in doing so, I might have jeopardized my father’s life. Because any government that is willing to stand by and watch as candidates commit suicide or ingest poisonous plants because they gave a wrong answer won’t shrink from eliminating a man they might see as a threat. And Magistrate Owens. Dr. Flint. Our old teacher. Everyone who worked hard to keep Five Lakes Colony graduates safe from The Testing is at risk. Because of me.
“Cia, are you okay?”
I whip around and see Tomas staring at me. I must look pretty awful to warrant the concern in his eyes. Forcing a wide smile, I say, “Yeah, I’m just worried about Tracelyn and the others. I hope they find shelter tonight. It looks like a big storm is coming.” Then I put my finger to my lips, point to the bracelet in my hand, and show him the almost imperceptible holes on the inside. With unsteady fingers, I probe for the clasp on my bracelet, work the fastening free, and set it on top of my bag. I then take Tomas’s hand and remove his before heading out the door into the swirling wind.
“They’ve been spying on us,” Tomas says. “I guess it shouldn’t come as a surprise after the exploding pond. Listening to private conversations is minor compared to that.”
“But how long do you think they’ve been listening? Just this test or since the beginning?”
I watch him consider the question and see the moment he remembers our conversation under the tree—away from the cameras. “Maybe they weren’t listening then. I mean, at that point, there were one hundred and eight of us. Most likely they were just using the cameras so they could observe us all at once. Listening to over a hundred different microphones would take a lot of time and people.”
I can only hope he is right. I don’t know if I can live with the alternative.
“Cia, I know this is hard, but you can’t worry about what might be happening to everyone back home.” His hand brushes over my cheek. I catch it and hold it like a lifeline. “The only way for us to help anyone at home is to survive this test.”
My throat tightens as desperation takes hold. “If we pass, they’ll remove all our Testing memories. We won’t remember there’s anything we need to help with.”
“Not if we figure out how they do it.” He gives my hand a squeeze and brushes the stray tears that have slipped down my cheek. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I have a few ideas. Now that we know about the bugs, we can make sure they won’t always know what we’re planning. You’ve given us an advantage. We just have to be smart enough to use it.”
The doubts I have threaten to consume me. Are we smart enough? Can we out-think a system that has been in place for decades? That has controlled the lives of hundreds of the brightest minds since the world began to rebuild? That is currently controlling us?
Straightening my shoulders, I say, “Well, then we’ll just have to be smart enough. Right?”
“Right.” Tomas smiles. “With the two of us working together, how can we go wrong? And you know what? I’m glad you figured out someone was listening in for another reason.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because the first time I tell you that I’m in love with you, I’d rather not share the moment with Dr. Barnes and his friends.”
The words and the way his lips touch mine make my heart shimmer. I know this is the wrong time to be thinking about love. The stress of the test—knowing our lives are in danger—means I can’t trust my emotions. But the warmth in my veins and the strength I feel just being near Tomas are real. So when his lips leave mine, I’m able to say, “I think I love you, too.”
“You think?” He laughs and hugs me tight against his chest. “Well, I guess it’s good I have a couple hundred miles of road left to convince you.” He drops a kiss on the top of my head and sighs. “We should probably go back and entertain our listening audience before they start wondering if we’ve passed out from eating too much chicken.” He takes my hand, and we start back toward the barn. “You do realize I’m going to have to declare my love again for our audience. Otherwise, they might start wondering why I’m telling you how beautiful you are.”
I can’t help smiling as we walk back into the building and snap the bracelets back onto our wrists. But now that I know people are listening, I can’t seem to come up with anything to say. Thankfully, Tomas doesn’t have the same problem. “I thought I heard a noise outside, but I guess I was wrong. No one was there. Guess with the storm coming, the wind kicked up some debris.”
For a second, I’m confused. Then I realize he’s explaining the silence to whoever was listening. “Good,” I say. “We could both use the rest after last night. I’m not sorry we invited the others to camp with us, but it was hard to sleep with them there.”
“I know.” Tomas lowers himself to the ground and pats the spot next to him, which I take. “I didn’t get much sleep either.”
“Then how do you explain your snoring?” I tease even though Tomas doesn’t snore. Our audience will no doubt find it amusing. We talk about the other three candidates for a while, and then speculate on how our friends might be doing—whether they’ve teamed up with others or are traveling alone. The wind howls in earnest and raindrops begin to pound against the roof.
Once the barn is completely draped in shadows, we get ready for sleep. Settling into the back-corner spot we thought was best protected from the weather, we listen as rain pours from the sky. Water drips from holes in the roof, but the area we have chosen stays blissfully dry.
Tomas puts his arm around me and says, “You know, I really did lie awake for most of last night. I don’t know if this is the right time to say this, but Tracelyn is right. I am in love with you.”
Hearing it for the second time, even if he’s saying it for Dr. Barnes, still makes my breath catch. Like last time, Tomas kisses me, but this kiss is longer, deeper, and stirs my blood. When he pulls away, it takes me longer to recover. Smiling in the dark, I snuggle up ag
ainst him and whisper, “I think I love you, too.”
His answering chuckle chases me into sleep.
Something’s wrong.
Tomas’s arm is still wrapped around me. His breathing is even and steady. A pale gray light streams through the barn. The rain has stopped.
I put my head back down and close my eyes, trying to catch a few more minutes of sleep. And that’s when I hear it.
Panting. Something is here.
My eyes fly open, and I raise my head and look around the dim interior of the barn. Nothing. At least, not that I can see. The panting sound is nearby. I close my eyes to pinpoint the sound. It’s coming from behind me.
Heart pounding, I slide out from under Tomas’s arm, slowly sit up, and turn my head to look at the wall behind us. There’s nothing there. But I can still hear the rapid inhale and exhale of air. There’s a long crack in the corner of the wall where sunlight is streaming in. Being careful not to disturb Tomas, I quietly get to my feet, peer through it, and bite back a scream.
The animal is massive. Standing on its haunches it is as tall as I am, with black and gray fur covering most of its body. In places here and there, leathery pink skin peeks through. What captures my attention most, though, are the hooked claws and the teeth. Several rows of them. Yellow and sharp in a wide, protruding mouth.
Is it a kind of bear or a wolf? If it’s either, this version is unlike any of the species I’ve ever seen. My father has shown me pictures that he took on the outskirts of one of the colonies he worked in. Pictures of animals twisted by the same chemicals and radiation that laid waste to the earth. Some of the animals developed extra limbs or lost their tails. Others lost their fur or gained skin almost impenetrable to weapons. Regardless of the change, every mutated animal became vicious. The smallest rodents with their hairless bodies and oversized ears would attack a human no matter their size. This animal—whatever it might be—outside the barn isn’t small. It’s huge. If it attacks, we will be in serious trouble.