Looking each way, I reached out for the silver bar on the door and pushed. Like last time, the warm moist air hit me. Stepping inside the Greenhouse, I let the door shut. It felt as if I’d gone deaf, because immediately the alarm could no longer be heard. My heartbeat sped up and my breaths came faster.
The lights were out.
I forced myself to take a few steps and tried to focus. Although it wasn’t pitch-black, it was hard to see. Soon my eyes adjusted and I started to see heads, rows and rows of them. I didn’t want to get any closer to them than I had to, but I needed to see their faces.
Their eyes were shut.
I started to walk along the rows, looking for Laila. The effort was pointless. Their pale, glittering faces all looked the same. In the dark like that, I could have looked forever.
So I took a deep breath and called out in a loud whisper, “Laila?”
Nothing. None of them even moved.
Again, a loud whisper. “Laila?”
Nothing.
I said it slightly louder. “Laila?”
Then I said it in my normal volume. “Laila.”
And I heard a faint reply. “Mason?”
I couldn’t tell where it had come from, so I called out louder. “Laila?”
“Mason.”
Definitely farther back in the room.
I took a step and nearly tripped. As I reached out to right myself, I brushed a clammy arm. “Ah!”
I jumped back.
Get ahold of yourself. Taking another step toward the back of the room, I called out, “Laila!”
I heard a quiet “Mason” from the back.
“Mason.” Another to my left. I faced the sound.
“Mason.” I whipped back around to the front where that came from.
What the hell …
Leaning down toward the closest row, I said, “Laila?”
Every eye in the row snapped open with a glow. At once, from everywhere, like they were footballs being tossed in the air one after another, came mutterings of my name.
A high voice in front of me. “Mason.”
To my right, a low voice. “Mason.”
Female to my left. “Mason.”
Behind me, a male voice. “Mason.”
From everywhere they came, high and low, male and female, until they all blended as one, chanting in unison, “Mason. Mason. Mason. Mason.”
“Oh god, stop!” I covered my ears as I backed up to the front, as far away from those glowing eyes as I could get. “Shut up!”
They were speaking as one, thinking as one.
How would I ever find Laila if they knew everything she did? They were like one, like some freaked-up plant version of the Borg from Star Trek, nothing individual about them—
I froze, remembering what Solomon had told me.
There was one individual thing about each one of them. And I prayed Laila would remember what hers was.
EIGHTEEN
I CUPPED MY HANDS OVER MY MOUTH LIKE A MEGAPHONE and yelled, “Once there was a little bunny who wanted to run away!”
The chanting of my name stopped.
Silence.
Come on, Laila.
Again I yelled, “Once there was a little bunny who wanted to run away!”
Please. Please. Please.
I felt tears at the back of my eyes, and a pit in my stomach, and my voice cracked halfway through as I yelled, “Once there was a little bunny who wanted to run away!”
Please.
And I lost it.
Over and over I yelled, “Once there was a little bunny who wanted to run away!” until my voice was hoarse and tears ran freely down my face. “Why don’t you remember?”
A buzzer rang for a few seconds, then a mist began to fall. I held my hands out in front of me, catching the handfuls of glittery water that slowly dripped off my palms and onto the floor.
Slumping my shoulders, I lifted my hands to my face, where tears mingled with the glitter as I realized it was over.
Then, from farther back, there was a faint female voice. “So he said to his mother, ‘I am running away.’”
I dropped my hands. “‘If you run away,’ said his mother, ‘I will run after you.’”
Paralyzed with hope, I waited.
Then it came, from far back and to the left. “‘For you are my little bunny.’”
I smiled, wiping away tears with one fist as I walked toward her voice.
There was a slight murmuring among the others, repeating some of the words Laila had said, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown her out. I speeded up to a jog, slipping now and then on the slick floor as I headed toward where Laila had to be, calling out the lines, each of which she answered.
It was crucial I find her before the line that would put her to sleep. And if that happened, I would never find her.
Running toward the back of the room, to where I’d last heard her, I was down to the last line I could say. My last chance.
Her last chance.
Our last chance.
So I stopped, took a deep breath, and said the first half of the line. “‘If you become a mountain climber,’ said the little bunny…”
I held my breath.
From just off to my left came “‘I will be a crocus in a hidden garden.’”
I turned toward the voice.
Laila.
There she was, her eyes glowing like the rest, face pale and sparkly, reaching out to me in the dark. I had never seen anything more eerie, or beautiful, in my life.
She was just a few yards away, but as I brushed past the others, they reached out, too, mimicking her, snagging my pants in their grips. Attempting to slap them away, I twisted and lost my footing. Then their hands were all over me, grabbing, as I crawled the last few feet. I reached out a hand toward Laila and she took it, not letting go until I was kneeling before her.
I held her face with both of my hands. “Are you okay?”
Tears slid down her cheeks, shining midst the sparkles. She nodded.
Putting our arms around each other, we embraced. I didn’t want to ever let go, and from the strength of her hug—she was no longer weak—it seemed she felt the same.
A loud click sounded, echoing across the room, and a disquieting shudder ran through Laila’s body. All around us, the others stirred as the mist of glitter stopped and the lights came on. I let Laila go and leaned back, shading my eyes with one hand. Only then could I see that Laila was seated on a platform, like the others.
As my gaze drifted down her body, the words bubbled up. “No, no, no. Oh no…”
Like all the others, she had the tubes with the green stuff going into her legs.
My father was the Gardener. He was responsible for this.
My hands went to the tubes, holding them. They were warm. Repulsed, I wondered how to get them out of her.
She put a hand on mine, restraining me. “You can’t. You can’t take them out.”
Around us, the voices started up. “You can’t, you can’t…”
“But I don’t understand, how did they…”
“Don’t.” She shook her head as more tears spilled out. “It doesn’t matter.”
My words were babble. “But what do I do? I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help.”
Laila touched my face. “There is nothing you can do.”
I couldn’t accept it, that the entire thing had been a waste. Jack getting hurt, my mom on the outside, possibly in danger, and Laila. Beautiful Laila.
There had to be something I could do.
The doors banged. In a flash, I pressed myself to the ground on my stomach, peering between a row of kids. Two green suits walked in, looking around. They reached the main aisle but didn’t come any closer.
I wondered if they were as freaked out by the kids as I was. What if I hadn’t seen Laila on the outside? If this had been where I first saw her, in a green bodysuit, glittering skin, hooked up to a machine like some alien, would I still have feelings
for her?
Feelings.
I’d never had any feeling toward a girl other than a crush or confusion. Until Laila. I didn’t know what it was. We’d been together only twenty-four hours, but when we were apart, I’d missed her so much it hurt. I didn’t feel whole without her.
And lying there on my stomach, damp from the mist, wondering what would happen next, I felt more whole than ever. So I squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry.”
She squeezed back.
The green suits had a short conversation, then left the way they’d come.
I sat back up. There had to be something I could do for Laila. I said, “I’m going to get some help.”
Laila frowned. “Help for what?”
I leaned forward and held her face in my hands. “For you.”
Her eyes shut for a second, then opened back up. “I don’t need help anymore. I’m strong now.”
“But…” I looked around. “Look at where you are.”
Her hands reached up to touch my face. “I’m where Ibelong.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t believe that. You don’t belong here.” My voice broke as I said, “You deserve a life. You belong with me. Don’t you want that?”
“I shouldn’t.” Laila hesitated and her forehead wrinkled. “I should only want what I have here. That’s what I’m supposed to want.”
“But do you? Only want what you have here?”
Slowly, she shook her head as her hands pressed on either side of my face. “I want to be with you.”
“Then I’m going to get some help.”
She asked, “From who?”
“From someone I never thought I’d be asking…”
My father.
“I’ll be back.”
She smiled and placed her hands over mine. “Promise.”
“Promise.”
Although I didn’t want to leave Laila, I knew she wasn’t going anywhere. Or at least I figured she wasn’t.
At the front of the room, I pushed the door open slightly and peeked out. The hall was empty, but the alarm still blared as the lights flashed. I hoped my little piles of orange powder were still there. I knew the first two turns without having to look, but then I had to stop. What had seemed like monstrous piles as I made them were actually tiny splotches of orange that required me to stop and look at every corner. I also had to listen for footsteps, not easy with the alarm going. Eventually, I saw the janitor’s closet and went running into Solomon’s quarters from there.
“Solomon!” There was no response. As I entered the room with his desk, he was visible, lying on the floor amid a growing pool of a green, viscous substance.
The organics were slowly draining out of him.
I skidded to a stop right before him, and fell to my knees. “Solomon?”
His eyes opened immediately and he reached out a hand. “I’m glad to see you.”
“How did this happen?” But I knew, even as I asked.
“Eve.” He clutched a small bottle of pills. “She’s been poisoning me and I didn’t even know. But now, with you here, she just couldn’t wait for me to die. So she…”
I put my hand on his forehead, such a useless gesture. “What can I do? How can I help?”
He shook his head. “She’s got some of them on her side. I should have seen this coming. She stopped the payments to your mother. She’s behind…”
His eyes closed as his head sagged to one side.
“I’ll get someone to help!”
He swallowed before speaking again, his voice breathless and weak, so that some of the words dropped away. “…alarm … a lockdown. Everyone … in their quarters. Won’t come out … until … all clear.”
That explained the empty hallways. “I’ll bang on doors, find someone.”
He reached out for my hand and gripped it. “I need to tell you some things, things I never got to say.”
“No!” I dropped his hand. “I’m going to find help!”
“There’s no one to help.…”
But I knew someone who might. “Tell me how to get out to the gate where I came in.”
He must have seen something in my eyes, because he didn’t argue, just told me the way. With a shaky hand, he pointed to his shirt pocket. I reached in and extracted a plastic card.
“…open the gate … locked doors.” And those were the last words he said before he passed out.
I stood, looking around for something. I wished I had taken that green suit’s Taser when I had the chance. Then I noticed the fire extinguisher, and the fire axe below it. Ripping the axe off its holder, I repeated Solomon’s directions as I ran, hoping I didn’t encounter anyone, because, at that point, I would use the weapon in my hands. In less than five minutes, I’d reached the front. I shoved the doors open and ran to the gate. Please be there.
NINETEEN
I YELLED HER NAME. “MOM!”
“Mason?” She stepped out of Dr. Emerson’s Prius and ran over to me.
“Mom!” I found the lockbox for the gate and slipped the card inside. Three green lights lit up in succession and the gates slowly swung open. Mom slipped past them, and I held the axe out to the side with one arm as she hugged me. “Thank God. It’s been hours. I was so worried.”
“He needs your help. Solomon needs your help.” I stepped back. “We have to go.”
Mom paused. “He’s your father.”
“I know.”
She didn’t move.
“What?”
Then she pointed. “She can help, too.”
Dr. Emerson stood by her Prius.
Not wanting to waste time arguing, or ask when they’d made up, I shouted for her.
As she jogged to the gate, she called out, “Is it Laila? What’s happening?”
“I don’t have time to explain. Please—we need your help.”
She took a step back, hesitating. She shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t go in there.”
My knuckles grew white from gripping the axe. “Not even for Laila?”
She shook her head and stepped back.
After everything? Everything with Laila, the rush to get to TroDyn? The words came out before I could stop them. “You suck!”
I didn’t take time to see her reaction. Instead, I turned to Mom. “We have to hurry.” And we ran for the front door.
Just inside, I pointed. “This way.”
Mom said, “I know the way.”
So I brought up the rear as we ran to Solomon.
Although he was obviously in bad shape, his eyes opened and his face lit up when he saw her. Mom knelt beside him and put a hand on his face, whispering his name over and over. As he came to, she started rearranging the silver tubes. “Who did this?”
Solomon swallowed. “Eve. Eve did.”
Mom froze at the name. “Why in the world…”
I blurted, “She wants to take over. I heard in the hallway. And she’s been poisoning him.”
Mom shook her head. “I never trusted that woman.” She continued to sort through the tubes.
It was a little weird, to see the mother who always seemed on the edge of losing it be so competent, like it was second nature to her. “Here. This needs to be connected now. I don’t know if we made it in time.” She looked at me. “Can you lift him back in his chair?”
With Mom on one side, we got Solomon back in his chair, and she started hooking him back up to all the silver tubes.
I asked, “What do we do now?”
Mom asked, “About what?”
I said, “Everything! The kids in the Greenhouse. Eve taking over.” And, of course, the one thing I cared about the most. “Laila.”
Mom shook her head. “Eve is crazy. And whoever she has on her side is crazy, too.”
“But how do we stop her?”
Solomon seemed to be getting some strength back. His voice grew steadier as he spoke. “Eve has been lobbying for a long while now. She wants to make a deal with the military.”
Mom
bit her lip. “I can’t believe they would go for that.”
Solomon said, “Eve lied about it. The families think it’s simply advancement in the project, a military intervention with a lot of funds that will speed our work along.”
I recalled my conversation with Dr. Emerson, her worries about the project turning toward the military. Had she been talking about Eve? “So most of them have no idea their kids would become soldiers?”
Solomon shook his head. “Except for a few who share Eve’s thinking, I doubt any of the others truly understand the implications.”
“It’s always been that way,” Mom said. “The parents are blind, blind to everything but their cause. All Eve did was put it in a bigger, prettier wrapper, and they all went along with it.” She patted Solomon’s arm. “Behind your back.”
“Oh my god,” Solomon moaned. I was starting to see him in a different light. He honestly did want to save the human race. Was it possible, despite everything I’d seen in the Greenhouse, that he was the good guy in all this? And Eve the bad one, the one to blame?
I asked, “So? What do we do about Eve?”
Solomon grabbed my mom’s arm. “You can’t let her do this—”
“But she doesn’t know you’re alive, right?” I interrupted. “I mean, she meant to leave you for dead.”
He nodded. “And it almost worked.” He looked at Mom. “There are only a handful of people here who could have fixed the damage to me.”
Solomon coughed. My mom found a towel and held it to his mouth.
I asked, “Can we shut this all down? End it now, forever?”
Solomon had stopped coughing and held the towel over his mouth. He and Mom exchanged glances.
“What?”
Mom held my arm. “Mason. You can’t just shut this project down.”
“Why not?”
She said, “You saw what happened to Laila when she was away from the others for just a day.”
“Yeah. But you can’t just keep them here. People know the truth. I know the truth. Jack knows the truth. We can tell everyone, get this place shut down.”
Mom looked over at Solomon.
“What?” I nearly screamed. “What aren’t you telling me?”