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go in?” Brick asks.
“In a minute,” I say. Going through the door is my only option. The only way to get past this test. It’s what happens once I am through that door that is in doubt. I think back to the Testing official’s instructions. Roman’s insistence that he go first. One answer allowed per question. The scores to the answers provided count for all. Any attempt to resolve a question will be punished.
Annalise’s testing booklet falls from my fingers and my legs go weak as the pieces click into place. Roman’s lack of effort on the other problems. The length of time it took for the red light to turn green during his turn. Dr. Barnes told us the third test would evaluate our ability not only to work well with others, but to evaluate their strengths and weaknesses. If I am correct, Roman evaluated our group perfectly and has set the rest of us up to walk into a trap.
A trap Annalise must have already sprung.
I sit hard on the chair behind me and take deep breaths trying to stave off the panic. If I am right, I cannot attempt to answer the problem my team assigned me. If I am wrong, not answering the problem could result in my failure. I have to decide what I believe.
My heart pounds as I look at Brick. His calm demeanor and poor performance on the practice problems take on a sinister tone. Does he know about Roman’s plan? Did they plot this together? Brick’s practice book might present me with the answers, but the booklet is currently resting under his elbow on the table in front of him. To get the booklet, I have to explain my concerns. If he isn’t involved in Roman’s trap, Brick will learn about it from me and gain the opportunity to pass when he doesn’t deserve to.
Shame. Hot. Deep. Oily, stomach-churning embarrassment fills me. My thoughts make me no better than the person I believe Roman to be. I will not stoop so low as to trick others in order to eliminate the competition. While I am horrified at the methods employed with The Testing, I seriously doubt the Testing officials who rate us at the end will approve of trickery either. What kind of leader would that type of person make?
Mimicking Brick’s calm demeanor, I carefully explain what I believe Roman’s plan is. What I think happened to Annalise. What could possibly happen to us if we attempt to solve the problems we have been assigned. Brick listens without interruption, and when I fall silent, considers me for a long time before saying, “We said we would answer the agreed-upon questions.”
Does he not believe me? No. His expression is not one of disbelief, but of resignation. “Roman agreed to work as a team, but I don’t think he is. If we answer an already answered question, we’ll be penalized.”
I can see the nail enter Malachi’s eye. The blood. The trembling body crumpled on the floor. Knowing what could happen makes me want to shake Brick’s stoic shoulders as his head moves side to side while once again saying he gave his word. His parents taught him to respect a promise. End of story.
Desperation claws at my heart even as I wonder if he’s right. If I’m wrong. If Roman answered only his question. If not answering ours will be the biggest mistake we could make.
Hitching my bag onto my shoulder, I walk slowly across the room. I have done all I can to help Brick survive the day. If he doesn’t . . .
“Please.” Turning, I walk back to Brick and take his hand in mine. “You don’t know me. There’s no reason you should trust what I say. I can’t tell you what to do. I can only ask that you look at Roman’s booklet and think about who has the most to gain by betraying the others. If he solved all five problems, anyone who attempts to solve them again will be penalized. I don’t know what the penalty is . . .” I see the nail enter Malachi’s eye again and swallow the bile that rises in my throat. “But if I’m right, three of us could be eliminated from The Testing because we trusted our teammate.”
For a moment the composed expression disappears, replaced by confusion. “I’m not from your colony. Why do you care what I do?”
“Because I don’t want anyone else to die.”
Brick looks over my shoulder at the door behind me. The green light telling me it is time for me to make my choice.
Letting go of his hand, I open the door, give one last look at my teammate, and walk through hoping I did enough to save Brick’s life. Hoping I am confident enough in my own deductions to save my own.
The hallway is dimly lit. The shadows fill me with unease as I follow the corridor to the end. As promised, another hallway lined with six illuminated doors greets me. To my right is the door marked with the number four. The door I promised to walk through. To my left are doors one through three. I cross to door two—looking for signs of what? Blood? Hair? Something to prove my theory right. The silver doorknob gleams in the light. There are no smudges on it to bear witness that it had been handled. I check the other doorknobs. All perfectly polished.
I walk back to door number four and trace the black number on the snow-white door. Do I keep my word and turn the handle, or go with my gut and walk away?
How long do I stand in front of the door? I don’t know. But when I finally make my choice my knees protest as I shift my weight. Touching the doorknob, I take a deep breath and step away from the door. Turn to the right. Walk two doors down to the one marked EXIT and turn the gleaming knob, hoping the choice I have made is not my last.
Chapter 9
A TESTING OFFICIAL is waiting inside a small room containing a dark wooden table, a chair, and a control panel of some kind. It’s probably what makes the light we watched go from red to green. The official’s expression is pleasant as she leads me through a back door, down well-lit hallways to the bank of elevators. The Testing official stays on the elevator as I exit onto the fifth floor wondering how and when I will learn my fate.
I hear the sounds of conversation from the dining hall and realize that I might not need to wait. The person with the answer to whether I made the correct choice is right through those doors. My heart leaps as I see Tomas, Will, and Zandri sitting at our table, but I do not join them. Not yet. Instead, I scan the room.
I spot Roman before he sees me. Laughing with friends. At a joke or at those of us who might have been eliminated because we believed him?
Tomas calls my name, but I don’t move from my position in the doorway. The girl next to Roman jabs him with her elbow. His eyes turn and meet mine. And I know. The disbelief and anger in his eyes tell me I was right not to trust him. I just wish I had figured out the truth sooner. If I had, Annalise might be seated at one of these tables. There is no sign of her red hair and confident smile. A small part of me hopes she is relaxing in her room, though if she is, I am almost guaranteed a failing grade.
I feel Roman’s eyes follow me as I grab a bag of crackers from the snacks on the table and walk across the room to sit with my friends. Tomas, Will, and Zandri tell me about the problems they solved. From the way they talk, I begin to understand that while we all had the same types of problems to complete, every group solved them in a different order. Tomas answered the third question for his team—the math question Roman was supposed to answer for ours. Zandri went first for her team and answered the history problem. Will went second and was assigned genetics. Everyone from Tomas’s group has returned from the exam. Zandri and Will are still waiting for the rest of their teammates to arrive.
As I watch the door, they ask which question I was assigned. In a quiet voice I tell them about my belief in my teammate’s betrayal. My decision not to open the door. To leave before answering my question. My friends stare at me. A knot forms in my chest. Will recovers first and says he’s impressed I trusted my instincts. That he was glad he never had to make a choice about trusting his teammates since Zandri was the only one who went before him. And, of course, he trusted her. Tomas looks at Will for several long moments before saying he’s proud that I alerted Brick to my suspicions. Will tells a joke to make me feel better, but I don’t. Zandri’s wide eyes and trembling lips and the way Tomas frowns when he doesn’t think I’m looking remind me that the verdict to this test is still in doubt. There is still a
chance that I made a mistake. That I failed. And when Brick appears in the doorway, I am certain I did. My heart drops. Brick had been adamant about following through with his promise. And when he passes my table without a glance, I’m positive he did exactly what he swore to do. Brick solved his question. He knows I was planning on not answering mine. Now I am forced to wonder—did I ruin the chance for all of us to pass this test and continue on?
Nicolette arrives full of stories about her teammates. Some were nice. One was pushy and arrogant. Her group made the arrogant boy go last—just in case he got any ideas about messing up the test for the others. I turn a cracker over in my hands and listen to everyone talk about the personalities of the candidates they were grouped with. Zandri shoots looks at the door as she watches for her other test teammates to arrive. I realize Tomas has fallen silent. He’s watching our friends closely. Out of the corner of my eye I see him looking at me. Does he think I’m paranoid? Maybe I am.
Time passes slowly as more candidates arrive looking triumphant or tired. Sometimes both. Eventually, dinner is served. I force myself to eat. With every bite, I cast a look at Brick, willing him to make eye contact. To give me a sign of the choice he made.
