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“A mistake?” Part of me has desperately held out hope that Tomas was not responsible. That’s the part that begins to scream. “How do you kill someone by mistake? Zandri was our friend.” More Tomas’s friend than mine. She flirted with him. She might have even been in love with him. And he ended her life.
I can’t stay here. I’m on my feet and bolting for the exit, but Tomas is fast and gets there before me. Not just fast. Years of working side by side with his father on the farm have made him strong. I kick and push, but no matter how I fight, I can’t move him out of the path of the door.
“You have to listen to me.” Tomas clamps his hands on my shoulders, and I jerk back. I can’t bear to have him touch me. I want to lean into the warmth and security he has always provided, but I won’t let myself. Not anymore. The safety I feel with him is a lie.
Tomas removes his hands and runs one through his dark, wavy hair. “You have to listen. I never intended to hurt Zandri. You left to find water. Will and I fought. I was so angry. Mad that I was injured. Angry that you wouldn’t leave Will behind and that you stormed off and left me there with him. And I was furious that we were out in the middle of nowhere because Dr. Barnes and his people wanted to see who would kill in order to succeed. Will walked off carrying the canteen with the last of our water. He probably thought taking it would keep me from leaving, but I didn’t care. I picked my bicycle off the ground and climbed on, thinking I’d come find you. That’s when I saw her.”
Blood pounds through my ears. My stomach heaves. I don’t want to hear about the death of the blond artist who was always so beautiful and confident. But I wrap my arms around myself as though they will provide a barrier against the chill seeping through my body, and I wait for the rest.
“At first I didn’t recognize her. Her arms and face were stained with dirt. It wasn’t until the sunlight caught the gold in her hair that I realized who was staggering down the road toward me.”
Closing my eyes, I picture Zandri outside of the Five Lakes school—her eyes laughing, the gauzy dresses she favored smudged with paint, and her golden hair shining bright in the sun. It’s almost impossible to imagine her as Tomas describes. Dirty and disheveled and dead.
“She screamed when she spotted me and ran from me. I should have let her go. She might have lived if I hadn’t given chase.” Pain shadows Tomas’s face. Guilt weaves through his halting words. “But I had to see if she was all right. I knew you’d want me to.”
The words slap my heart.
“She wasn’t steady on her feet, so it wasn’t hard to catch up. When I did, she snarled and bit until I finally made her understand who I was and that I wasn’t going to hurt her. I never meant to hurt her.”
Tomas’s face is pale. His eyes filled with grief. “She was so relieved finally to find someone she could trust. Then Will appeared, and Zandri went crazy. She lunged at Will, and he pushed her back and yelled at her to stop. But she didn’t. She accused him of sabotaging their team in the third test and then started shouting at me. Seeing me with Will must have scared her. She said that I couldn’t be trusted—that no one could—and attacked. She had a stick that was sharpened to a point.
“She caught Will in the side, and he punched her hard across the mouth. Suddenly, I had my knife in my hand. She must have thought I was going to use it on her. Or maybe she wasn’t thinking at all. I don’t know, because I didn’t pay attention to her. I was too busy yelling at Will. Watching him pull out his gun. I threatened him with my knife. He laughed, which made me even angrier. I was glad I had an excuse to hurt him. I didn’t know I could be happy at the thought of causing someone pain. I don’t know why I listened to him when he yelled for me to watch out. But I did, and I turned.”
Tomas looks down at his hands. “The knife punched through her stomach. I can still feel her blood as it drained her life across my hands. The next thing I knew, Will was helping me lay her on the
ground and she was gone.”
There are tears on Tomas’s cheeks. My arms ache to reach for him, to soothe the pain and grieve with him for the loss of our friend. But I don’t know how to cross the divide our secrets have built between us.
“Will grabbed Zandri’s canteen. I took the bracelet off her bag. We buried her in a dry riverbed.” He wipes the tears from his face and shakes his head. “I’ve replayed it a hundred times in my mind. If only one thing had gone differently. If I hadn’t taken out my knife. If Will hadn’t appeared when he did or yelled for me to turn. If you hadn’t left Will and me alone—”
Disbelief steals my breath. “This is my fault?”
“I don’t know.” Anger and guilt simmer in every word.
Tomas might say he doesn’t know, but I do. I can see the accusation. The bitterness. The hurt. Tomas is angry. Angry he took a life. Angry he was put in the position to do so.
Because of me.
But while my choice to trust Will was wrong, I was not to blame. Dr. Barnes and The Testing officials put us on that patch of cracked earth. Tomas allowed his frustration with Will to boil over. He let his emotions get the best of him and drew his weapon. He will have to live with that.
Some of what I’m thinking must show on my face because Tomas reaches out his hand and steps toward me. “I don’t blame you.”
“Yes, you do.” My words are quiet. Calm. The truth. My voice is as hollow as my heart when I say, “It’s getting late. We both need to get back. People are watching.”
Tomas doesn’t stop me as I walk around him and open the door, but his voice chases over my shoulder as I start to step outside. “You aren’t to blame, Cia. I am. But so is The Testing and every official who works for it. They deserve to pay for what they’ve done.”
The words make me stop and look back at the boy I have known and cared for almost all my life. He looks years older and wiser than when we first climbed into the skimmer that delivered us to The Testing. We’ve changed. The Testing did that to us.
“You’re right,” I say. “They deserve to pay.”
I want to be angry with Tomas. For his deception. For the terrible part he played in Zandri’s death. I want to hate Will. His willingness to trade others’ lives for his own success makes my stomach turn and my soul ache. Anger and hate are powerful, hot, energized. So different from the icy cold despair that fills me now.
I take a winding path through the University campus as I return to my residence. I tell myself that I am doing it to make sure anyone who sees me assumes I am out for a casual walk, but deep inside, I know different. Part of me wants Tomas to look for and find me. To convince me that we can still be partners. That our love is stronger than the terrible choices we have been forced to make. That I am not alone.
But I am.
By the time I arrive at the bridge to the Government Studies residence, all evidence of the final Induction task has been cleared away. No boxes or planks or tools. Nothing that speaks of the tragedy that occurred just hours earlier.
