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My fingers fumble with the fastenings of my bag as blade sings against blade. I frantically dig through my belongings and hear another shout. This time Roman is the one bleeding, but he doesn’t grip his wounded arm or flee. Letting out an angry growl, Roman lowers his head, charges, and tackles Tomas to the ground. A scream rips from my throat as a knife barely misses Tomas’s neck. For a moment I am paralyzed, watching the two wrestle in an effort to gain the upper hand. And Roman does. He pins Tomas to the ground and raises his knife just as I pull my gun from my bag and take aim.

A shot rings out. Blood blooms on the right temple of Roman’s forehead. The sneer is gone, replaced by surprise and then emptiness as the knife drops from his hand and he pitches forward—dead.

Holding his side, Tomas crawls out from under the dead boy and lets out a sigh of relief at being safe. But we aren’t safe. Tomas doesn’t know what I know. I didn’t take aim in time. I was not the one who fired the gun.

Chapter 19

“GET DOWN,” I yell as I look from side to side, my entire body humming with tension and fear. “I didn’t fire. There’s someone else out there with a gun.”

“That would be me.”

Spinning, I aim and tighten my finger on the trigger before the familiarity of the voice hits me square in the chest. The cocky tone that could only belong to one person out here.

Will.

I lower my weapon and see him strutting toward us, twirling a pistol around his finger. And while I know Tomas doesn’t want me to like or trust Will, I can’t help wrapping my arms around him. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you,” I say. “I’m not sure I would have been able to save Tomas. Thank you.”

Although I’m not sure whether I’m thanking him for saving Tomas or for sparing me the need to take someone’s life. Probably both.

Will steps back and slides the gun into his pocket. “I’m sure you would have managed without me. In a strange way, it’s a good thing this idiot was stupid enough to attack you guys. I would never have found you without all the noise. I’ve been looking for days and figured the two of you had already gotten to the end of the test.”

“No such luck,” Tomas says, holding his side.

“Yeah.” Will gives Tomas a nasty smile. “I know you hoped you’d seen the last of me. Guess I just proved you can trust me after all.”

For a minute, Will and Tomas look at each other. Tomas is the first to look away as he says, “I guess so.”

“Good.” Will laughs. “Then why don’t we let Cia here take a look at that cut before you bleed to death. If you die, I won’t be able to lord my heroics over you. What fun would that be?”

At the mention of Tomas’s injury, I rush to examine it, doing my best to ignore Roman’s lifeless body crumpled on the ground. Tomas’s cut is long but shallow and won’t need stitches. Which is good, because after the past couple days I don’t know if my fingers would be steady enough to perform the job. Will offers me the use of his medical kit, and I quickly clean, medicate, and bandage the wound.

Once I’m done, I hand the supplies back to Will and say, “You caught up to us. That must mean you found wheels. Right?”

“No wheels.” Will gives me a big smile. “I found something even better. Want to take a look?”

Not too far from the road sits a small, single-passenger open-cabin skimmer. Kind of like a hovering version of a scooter. My father has three of them at his lab for light field use. They are good over short distances, but long distances make them overheat and they can’t hold much more than 160 pounds, which limits their usefulness. My father and two of my four brothers are too heavy. They can’t even get off the ground. But Will and his lanky frame are perfect for the design.

“Where did you find it?”

I hear the suspicion in Tomas’s voice, but Will doesn’t seem to notice as he explains, “Two days after I left you guys, I ran across a big stone building with a huge metal door. It took me a while to get the door open, but it was worth it. There were four of these babies inside. None of them were in working order, but I was able to use parts from the other three to fix this one. Looks like the Commonwealth stashed a lot of vehicles and other things in the second half of this test. I’ve seen a couple Testing candidates riding these, and one of the guys I ran into found a bunch of automatic weapons in a cabin just before the last city. I guess the first part of the test was about survival. The second is testing how fast we get to the end and how many competitors we’ll take out along the way.”

“How many candidates do you plan on taking out before the end, Will?” Tomas asks the question so quietly, I almost miss it.

But Will doesn’t. With a serious expression, he answers, “The only competitors I plan on eliminating are ones who pose direct threats. Kind of like our friend over there.” He hooks his thumb toward the body on the ground. “Or do you think he deserved to live?”

Will gives Tomas a smug, almost challenging smile. So much for hoping Will’s heroics would put the two on the same side. I step in between the two and say, “Look, according to the Transit Communicator we have about eighty-eight miles left to go. Instead of sniping at each other, our time would be better spent eating breakfast, packing up, and getting the hell out of here.”

“Fair point, Cia.” Will flashes an easy smile. “I’m willing to put our differences behind us if Tomas is.”

Silently, Tomas nods, and I let out a sigh of relief. I’m not naïve enough to think the two won’t find opportunities to fight along the way, but I’m hoping they’ll keep it to a minimum.

While I set out breakfast, Will rummages through Roman’s Testing bag and finds clothes, two bo

ttles of water, a compass, a fishing kit, several tools, and a bow with a quiver of arrows. All marked as Testing candidate supplies. Evidence the boy attacked and at least wounded one other candidate. We dine on pears and rabbit and divide the new supplies among our own bags. I keep the knife and bow and arrows if for no other reason than I don’t want my two adversarial companions to have additional weapons to use if their sniping gets out of control. Then, while Tomas and Will aren’t looking, I remove Roman’s identification bracelet and slip it into my bag alongside the one that belonged to the girl Tomas and I buried. Roman was untrustworthy. He came into The Testing intent on winning at any cost. And while I hate what he did to reach his goal, I realize I hate the Testing officials more. Roman didn’t deserve to be a future leader, but death seems an extreme penalty to pay. For good or ill, his life should be remembered.

Tomas and I put our bags on our bicycle racks, Will heads for his skimmer, and the three of us meet up on the road. There are two shadows on the horizon behind us. Other Testing candidates? If Will is right, they could have vehicles that will overtake us soon. We have to get moving.

Will’s solar-powered skimmer is faster than our bicycles, but he keeps pace as we pedal. I can’t help but wonder why. Knowing how fast my father’s open-cabin skimmers travel, I’m pretty sure Will could be at the finish line in a matter of hours. While he might feel some kind of responsibility to me for my part in keeping him in The Testing, saving Tomas this morning has more than paid the debt. Although maybe Will doesn’t see it that way since, technically, he didn’t save my life. I don’t know. Whatever his reasoning, I’m grateful to have another pair of eyes watching the horizon for signs of danger. And it’s good he’s watching because Will is the first to spot a glint on the road ahead. A tripwire that our wheels would have triggered.

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