“Cannon?” I called.
He appeared in the doorway. Exhaustion lines crowded around his eyes, deepening when he smiled. “Hey.”
“Will you—will you sit with me?” I hated how weak my voice sounded, but it matched the quivering in my muscles and the uncertainty coursing through my veins.
“Of course.” The guy (what was his name again?) moved to the other bed (other bed?) in the room and sat down. He didn’t speak, and I didn’t dare, because every fact in my head had just disappeared.
A shiver stole across my skin at the inquisitive look the guy gave me. Like I should have something important to say to him, or something crucial to show him.
But I couldn’t even remember my own name.
I rubbed my hands over my sleeved arms, frantically searching my memory for the name of the person who slept in the other bed.
A hole gaped in my soul, reserved for someone special. Maybe the guy in front of me, the one watching me like I might leap across the gulf between us and hold him close. Maybe I should.
Acting irrationally, because all rationality had already fled, I did just that.
The guy caught me around the waist, emitting a soft grunt. But then he settled me on his lap with my cheek pressed into his chest. The hole filled and filled and filled with the touch of this boy. With the gentle way he stroked his fingers over my back. With his soft murmurs of apology and reassurance.
Dark shapes swam behind my closed eyes, but I didn’t pay attention to them. I still didn’t know his name. Or mine.
“Raine,” he whispered, and I seized on the information.
My name is Raine. My name is Raine Something. I have a last name. It’s …
Instinctively, I knew we’d hurt each other and were both desperately trying to make up for it.
“I’m sorry,” I said, not knowing why, but sure the apology mattered to him.
He didn’t say it was all right, because it wasn’t. Deep down, I felt like I could trust him, that he wouldn’t freak out on me if I asked him a potentially insane question.
“What’s your name?” I asked, going for nonchalant and ending up sounding scared as hell.
Across his face, horror warred with fear, which fought against a rising tide of panic. “My name?” the boy choked out. “What’s your name?”
“It’s—” I stopped, because I’d forgotten again. Tears of frustration welled in my eyes, and I let them spill over. “I forgot. I knew, just now, and I’ve forgotten.” I looked at the boy, desperate for his help. “Is this normal? Do I forget things often?”
Sadness painted every line in the guy’s face. “No, Raine. You don’t forget things often.”
“Raine!” I said. “My name is Raine.”
Before the still-nameless boy could answer, the door to my flat opened. Two people entered, talking. One boy, one girl. Their conversation didn’t carry to me in words, just sound. I slid off the boy’s lap and went into the living area.
“Hello,” I said.
The girl had ultra-black hair, cut in a stylish mess of spikes. She full-out stopped when she saw me. “Raine, you’re awake.” She crossed the room quickly and wrapped me in a hug.
“You live here, right?” I asked.
She jerked backward as if I’d burned her with my question. Then she looked at the guy with whitewashed hair and almost transparent blue eyes. “Zenn, she can’t remember anything. Oh, no.”
“So, he’s Zenn?” I looked at the girl. “Who are you? And who’s he?” I indicated the guy who still sat resolute on the bed behind me.
The girl grabbed my wrists. “I’m Violet. And he’s Cannon, your, well, your best friend.”
No wonder hugging him felt comfortable. I smiled over my shoulder at him. “And I’m Raine.”
“Yes, you’re Raine,” Violet said, like I was four years old. Maybe I was.
“You’re seventeen,” Violet said. “And you’ve been brainwashed. Cannon,” she addressed the guy in my bedroom, “I need to talk with Raine alone. Maybe you and Zenn can—”
“No problem,” Cannon said. He trailed his fingers across my shoulders before leaving with the guy called Zenn.
Vi led me back into the bedroom. She lay down with me on the same bed, just staring at the ceiling. I’d almost forgotten she was there when she said, “Sing with me, Raine.”
She began to hum a melody, soft at first, rising and falling until it settled into a rhythm on her tongue. She sang the lullaby through once, and something stirred inside of me. When she started again, I chased her voice with mine.
We finished, and everything came rushing back in a tidal wave of colors and sounds. Starr. Gunn. The Insiders. My father. My mother. Jag. Cannon.
Everything.
I struggled to breathe. “Vi,” I gasped.
“It’s okay,” she soothed. “He smothered you, that’s all. It won’t happen again.”
But she was wrong. My father had broken me. And I couldn’t be put back together. Even if I could, he’d just smash me again.
“No, he won’t,” Vi said, answering my thoughts. I remembered that she could do that now. How could I forget that? How could I forget Gunn?
My mind felt numb, yet a million thoughts whirled around in there, trying to combine into one cohesive sentence.
“My dad knows about the Insiders,” I said, barely audible.
“I know.” Vi’s voice wasn’t any louder than mine. Before I could reply, something beeped in my head. My cache. Incoming file.
It bore the label Known Insiders. Upon opening it, I wanted to throw up. Name after name after name, most of them my friends. All of them my colleagues.
Half of them dead, documented carefully by (deceased) after their name.
Zenn burst into the bedroom, his eyes wild. Cannon followed, his mouth set into an accepting line.
“Yeah, we got it too,” Vi said, her voice filled with sharp edges.
I hadn’t seen my name yet. I scrolled further until I did. Grouped together with Cannon Lichen, Violet Schoenfeld, and Zenn Bower, it sat under the label Dangerous: To Be Modified Immediately. Retrieve and relocate to the Evolutionary Rise.
Gunner
43.
The sound of the hovercopters filled the room, getting louder and louder, punctured only by Jag’s ragged breathing.
He lay on the floor, chest heaving, for a few seconds. When he stood up, he favored his bandaged arm so much I thought it must be broken. His skin glowed a dull gray, beaded with sweat.
“Tase ’im,” he slurred.
My gaze volleyed between him and Thane.
“Gunner,” Thane said, “please.” I knew what he was asking, but when he continued, the breath left my body.
“I knew Jag was here. I know you swam in the ocean. I know you love Raine Hightower.”
I wasn’t sure what he was playing at. I already believed him about his involvement in my life these past three weeks.
Jag stepped next to me, his eyes still cutting holes in Thane. “Don’t listen to him, Gunner. You can’t believe anything he says.”
Thane didn’t answer him, but he leveled his gaze on Jag. “I crashed into the Confinement Rise.”
I felt like this coded conversation was crucial. Suddenly I realized Thane wasn’t trying to convince me, but Jag.
“Liar,” Jag breathed. He put his hand on mine, bumping the taser lower. “Gunn, don’t let yourself get sucked into his voice. The man’s a monster. He killed his own daughter.”
I looked at Thane, the pieces of a very complex puzzle wafting through dark space. I looked into Jag’s eyes and felt the depth of his anguish, saw the sincerity in his soul.
But just because he believed his version of the truth with every fiber of his being didn’t mean it was true.
“He killed Vi’s sister. I watched him do it.” Jag gripped my shirtsleeve now. “You can’t believe him. You have to tase him, Gunner.”
Thane relaxed against the window frame. The buzz of hovercopters descended. ??
?Gunner, please.” I knew what he was saying: Tase me already!
Jag opened his mouth, but I cut him off. “Shut up. All of you, just shut up! I need time to think.”
I held the taser at my side, activated, ready to fire. Jag didn’t speak—he simply glared at me, waved his hand like, Think away, thinky thinker boy.
The hovercopters were so, so loud. I closed my eyes and tried to find that place inside myself that would tell me what to do. My gut or whatever.
I heard the floor creak. I heard the wind blowing outside. I heard the steady rhythm of Jag’s breathing.
I didn’t hear anything from my gut.
Each second that ticked by felt like a decade. Jag’s frustration rocketed through the roof. I felt nothing from Thane. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
I opened my eyes, surprised at how bright the room appeared.
“Gunn—” Thane took a step forward.
I swung the taser toward him, moving in slow motion.
I
pressed
the
button—
Four barbs pierced his chest in a perfect box formation; techtricity lightninged into his body.
He shrieked, clawed at the tethers, slumped to the floor with smoking clothes.
I stood there, shocked, as the consciousness drained from his eyes. As the Greenies buzzed closer and closer.
The earth spun faster, bringing me along with it. Jag said something to me, but nothing registered.
I stood there like a raging loser, holding the taser as if it were my lifeline.
Raine
44.
I adjusted the straps on the backpack Vi had given me while Cannon watched. “You could come with us,” I said. “Zenn could bring you a backpack.”
Vi, silent and observant, ordered another bottle of water from the dispenser.
Cannon shook his head. “My parents, they’re—” He cleared his throat. “They’ve been moved to Camp A until this is resolved. Who knows what will happen to them if I leave?”
I nodded, fighting back tears. I didn’t have parents to torture or threaten.
Vi finished packing her backpack, and I moved to add a handful of vitamin packets to mine.
“I’ll be okay,” he said. “I’ll get a new name and a new flat, and hey, maybe They’ll match me with Flare Riding.” He almost smiled, so I almost returned it.
“You’ll be okay?” I zipped my pack closed and looked at him.
His chair scraped as he stood. He wept as he drew me into a hug, touched me carefully, like I might shatter, just as he always had. He leaned his forehead against mine, and that gesture of skin-to-skin contact spoke more than voices ever could.
He squeezed my gloved hands. “Be careful out there, Raine.”
That’s it. No “Come back if you can,” or “I wish I was going with you,” or anything.
I didn’t know how to be careful, but I nodded like I did. Then Zenn entered the flat with his bulging backpack, and it was curfew, and Cannon was leaving, and all that remained was the knowledge that I might never see my best friend again.
* * *
We abandoned the flat just after midnight. We used our feet for transportation, because our hoverboards had been confiscated.
Worry gnawed at my insides, but I couldn’t quite identify why. No particular topic occupied my mind. I simply couldn’t make it settle down.
I focused on putting one foot in front of the other, concentrating on taking another step toward freedom, and then another. I made the turns without consideration. Vi and Zenn followed without question.
I knew where to go. The same apple orchard where my mom had met Gage. Where she’d died. I knew what would happen when we arrived.
We’d go through the wall.
Breach the barrier.
I swallowed hard at the thought. “I can’t,” I said so softly the sound evaporated the second it left my mouth. I froze.
Vi pushed me forward. “Yes, you can. I came from out there. It’s fine.”
She was right; I knew it in the rational section of my brain. But so much of my mind had been taken over by the irrational, and right now, that part screamed louder.
The surrounding buildings shortened until they leveled out into Blocks. The sidewalks narrowed, and I noticed cracks for the first time. My city wasn’t perfect, no matter how hard my father tried to convey that it was.
I replayed the good-bye with Cannon. “Be careful out there, Raine,” looped through my mind.
“He’ll be all right,” Vi murmured. “Don’t worry about him.”
I kept my eyes on the cracks in the sidewalk. “I’m not worried about him.” And I wasn’t. He wasn’t scared of Modification; he actually wanted it.
I wasn’t sure what I was re: Cannon. Angry I couldn’t seem to protect him from my father? Disappointed he hadn’t wanted to come with me? Something that I hadn’t done something?
Well, I could do something now. I took whatever was raging through my bones, through the empty spaces in my body, and poured it into my footsteps. The cement turned to dead and crinkled grass (dusted with snow) as we entered the orchards.
I would get Vi and Zenn out of this soul-sucking city. I would find Gunner. I would not let my father reprogram me, give me a new name, a new identity. He would not get to clone—
“Hello, Rainey.”
My heart leapt into my throat. Anxiety thrummed under my skin. My step faltered. It took me a moment to locate my father through the inky night, leaning against a bare tree trunk.
“Hey, Dad,” I said casually, like we’d go sit down to dinner in a few minutes. Like we’d have a polite convo and retire to our beds for a mandatory rest period. I recovered from my hesitant step and tried to move past him.
A buzzing noise filled the air, along with the smell of overworked tech. A force field encompassed me and him, trapping us in a clear bubble with Vi and Zenn.
“Where are you off to?” Dad took in the backpacks, the winter clothing.
“Nowhere,” I said.
“Let us pass,” Zenn said, his voice full and rich, seeming to echo with varying tones of high and low.
Vi and Zenn stepped to either side of me, each of them linking one arm through mine. We stood as a united front against my dad—the person who had authorized the murder of my mom. The reason I’d killed Gage.
I let the suppressed rage, decade of loss, and overwhelming sadness fill me again and then again. I felt stronger when I could feel. It was not feeling that scared me.
“I knew I made a mistake,” Dad said in a voice I’d never heard before. It lilted into the air, as if dancing with an unseen current. “Letting you two come here. I never thought my daughter would allow herself to be corrupted.”
My heart pulsed twice before I realized he was talking to Zenn and Vi. I cut a glance to Vi and found her practically glowing in the darkness. She exhaled, her breath escaping in a dense cloud.
She terrified me.
But not my dad. He glared right back at her. “We’re cut from the same skin,” he said to her, almost desperate now. “You should let me train you, Violet.” He took a step forward, admiration skating across his face. “I’ve never met one such as you.”
“Don’t touch me,” she growled, and my dad pulled back the hand that had been reaching for her.
He seemed to snap back to his senses. “Of course, except for Raine.” For half a breath, his eyes softened. They marbleized again so fast I couldn’t be sure anything had happened at all. “She’s been quite helpful all these years.” He grinned at me in his predatory way.
My legs felt incapable of holding my weight. Thinking about the countless lives I’d ruined made my heart twist. My stomach squirmed. My life had turned completely inside out.
“Let us go,” Zenn commanded again, his voice fully employed.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Dad hissed without missing a beat, like Zenn’s words hadn’t had any effect. “My barrier will not be breached again. You want to l
eave Freedom, you die.”
Vi’s arm against mine tightened. One look at her, and I thought, Why can’t you brainwash him into letting us leave?
She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. I took that to mean Doesn’t work that way, or maybe He’s blocking me, or some other thing that meant We’re screwed.
Zenn’s voice: out.
Vi’s mind control: useless.
“There now,” Dad said, his tone falsely bright. “Let’s all get back to bed. It’s too late to be out.” He shivered and smiled. “And my, it’s cold tonight.”
“I’m so sick of you telling me what to do,” I said. Then I did the only thing I could think of, even if it ended up killing me.
Ripping my gloves off, I lunged forward and gripped my father’s face in my bare hands. He tried to jerk away, but I held firm.
Pain sliced through me like a roto-blade. I managed to stay on my feet and keep my fingers digging into my father’s skin, even as he tried to get away.
The force field went down.
“Run!” I screamed. At least I think I did. The word came from somewhere, possibly everywhere. It echoed through the bare branches and filled the starless sky.
Run, run, run runrunrun!
Gunner
45.
Endless plains stretched before me, behind me, around me. After crossing the mountains—which I totally didn’t remember doing on the way into the Goodgrounds—only waving grasses existed.
Jag’s voice floated around me. When I had to, I gave noncommittal, one-word answers. The transport hummed, relaxing me into an almost-sleeping state where the words being said sounded more substantial.
“You’ll be okay,” Jag said. “I remember the first time I tased someone.” He chuckled. “Rough day. Still …” His voice trailed off, and I could feel his eyes on me. “You can’t lapse for long.”
A spike of irritation flashed through me. “I’m not lapsed,” I mumbled, not sure why that word bothered me so much.
“You should sleep while you can,” Jag said, his tone soothing and feathery.
I didn’t want to sleep. I needed to read my father’s journal. I gripped it in both hands. Just like I had as we’d sprinted into the basement of the house. Footsteps had pounded overhead as Jag ushered me into a hole in the wall and then heaved a bookcase in front of the opening.