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“You’re smart, Cia, but you don’t have the killer instinct. I could walk away right now and you wouldn’t fire at me.”
“You wanna bet? Go ahead and try me.”
For a moment everything goes silent. I hear Tomas whisper my name. Then gunfire fills the air.
And I remember. My knees buckle, and I grab the trunk of a tree to keep from stumbling to the ground as whatever barrier Dr. Barnes and his officials created to keep my memories at bay disappears.
Ryme offering me corncakes.
Will and Gill at the dinner table, laughing.
Holding Malachi’s hand as life drains out of his body. His blood staining the tiles as officials carry him out of The Testing room.
Jumping across a bridge.
Being chased by mutated humans. Claws raking down my arm. Searing agony mixes with churning fear as I turn, fire, and kill.
“Cia? Are you okay?” Michal’s voice cuts through the flood of memories. I look up and see him and Raffe wearing similar expressions of concern. The recording is no longer playing.
I take a deep breath and pull my thoughts back to the present. There is time enough to sort through the past. To remember. Now is the time to make sure what is contained in those memories never happens again.
Straightening my shoulders, I say, “I’m fine.”
Michal searches my face. Finally, he nods. “I have to get these to Symon. Once the president plays all these recordings on the Debate Chamber floor, officials will have no choice other than to vote against Dr. Barnes. A few might argue that the acts on these recordings were not sanctioned by Testing officials, but they won’t stand a chance against public outrage.”
The idea of Will’s betrayal, Tomas’s near death, and my attempt to kill being played aloud on the Debate Chamber floor makes me dizzy as I shift the bag on my shoulder and follow behind Michal and Raffe. People will know the choices I have made. They will hear the things we’ve all done and pass judgment. A small price to pay, I tell myself, for bringing The Testing to an end.
Twice we stop at the sound of nearby voices. Finally, we reach the broken outbuilding where Michal instructs us to wait. Two rotting gray walls are wedged in between a group of squat, twisted trees. Eroded sections in the front wall give us a good view of a long stretch of pavement four or five hundred yards away. On either side of the pavement are buildings. A handful of rebels hurry across the compound, long black guns slung over their shoulders. Zeen is not in sight, but he is here. Somewhere. And soon, because of these recordings, he will be safe. We all will.
Michal points to a building less than a hundred feet from where we are crouching. It’s a small red brick building set in the middle of a grove of trees.
“No one who comes by should question the two of you. But if someone asks, pretend to be new recruits who are looking for time alone. You should be fine.” Michal holds his hand out to Raffe, who hands over his bag. “Don’t move from this spot. I’ll be back soon.”
We watch through rotting wood as Michal hurries through the trees and disappears inside the brick structure. After ten minutes, he walks out. I gasp when a man with gray hair appears behind him.
I know that man.
Closing my eyes, I sift through my memories. He stood on the other side of a fence during The Testing. He gave me food and a drug that helped me keep my family safe from secrets I would have been compelled to share during the interview. Michal once told me I’d met Symon during my Testing days. This must be him.
Symon claps Michal on the shoulder and walks with him in our direction. I hold my breath as they pass by our location, and I hear a familiar voice say, “I can’t thank you enough for bringing these recordings directly to me.”
“I would have brought them to the president myself, but I know you wanted me to bring anything I found to you, Symon,” Michal says. “Once she plays these recordings on the Debate Chamber floor, the members will have to vote in favor of her motion. Dr. Barnes will be removed. You can tell Ranetta when you meet with her today. She will be relieved to know there won’t be a need for any more senseless death.”
From a crack in the one side wall, I see Symon sigh. “I know it seems that these recordings should guarantee the president wins the vote. However, I have learned that when dealing with the brightest minds, you have to expect some will question and have different opinions. Just as you do.”
My heart races. Those words. I’ve heard words like those spoken in just this way. By this same voice. In the early morning hours to Professor Holt.
I shift to get a better look at Symon. He shakes his head and takes a small pistol out of his pocket. “I’m an expert at dealing with those kinds of questions and the trouble they cause. That’s why Jedidiah assigned me to this post.”
Two shots split the air. Michal’s eyes widen. His hands reach for his chest and he crumples to the ground. Terror claws my swollen throat, but the hand that clamps over my mouth prevents sound from escaping. I swallow the scream and hear Raffe whisper against my ear, “Keep still. You can’t help him.”
He’s right. The bullets were fired directly into Michal’s heart. He was dead before he hit the ground. Even knowing that, I must use every ounce of my willpower to sit motionless as the blood flows unchecked from Michal’s body. To not cry out. To not strike back at the man who stole his life. I fight to breathe as Symon places the recorder on the ground next to Michal’s lifeless body, points the gun at it, and fires two more times. After picking up the shattered recorder and the bag containing the recordings, Symon walks back to the building without giving Michal a second glance.
A sob rips from my heart. Tears stream down my face as I take a halting step forward. I want to hold Michal’s hand as I did for Malachi, but Raffe pulls me back. Silently he points to two men coming out of Symon’s headquarters. They stride quickly to where Michal lies. One takes his feet. The other grabs his shoulders. Together they cart Michal’s body away.
“Come on.” Raffe grabs my hand and pulls. “We have to go.”
I take one last look at the ground stained with Michal’s blood. Tears burn my eyes and sear my throat as I dig through my bag. When my fingers close around the handle of Raffe’s gun, I turn and run.
