AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Even though it's been a long time since Hayden posed the question, Connor knows immediately what it refers to. Would you rather die or be unwound? It's like the question has hung in the cramped darkness all this time, waiting to be answered.
"Not me," says Emby. "Because if you die, at least you go to Heaven."
Heaven? thinks Connor. More likely they'd go to the other place. Because if their own parents didn't care enough about them to keep them, who would want them in Heaven?
"What makes you think Unwinds don't go?" Diego asks Emby.
"Because Unwinds aren't really dead. They're still alive . . . sort of. I mean, they have to use every single part of us somewhere, right? That's the law."
Then Hayden asks the question. Not a question, the question. Asking it is the great taboo among those marked for unwinding. It's what everyone thinks about, but no one ever dares to ask out loud.
"So, then," says Hayden, "if every part of you is alive but inside someone else . . . are you alive or are you dead?"
This, Connor knows, is Hayden bringing his hand back and forth across the flame again. Close enough to feel it, but not close enough to burn. But it's not just his own hand now, it's everyone's, and it ticks Connor off.
"Talking wastes our oxygen," Connor says. "Let's just agree that unwinding sucks and leave it at that."
It shuts everyone up, but only for a minute. It's Emby who talks next.
"I don't think unwinding is bad," he says. "I just don't want it to happen to me."
Connor wants to ignore him but can't. If there's one thing that Connor can't abide, it's an Unwind who defends unwinding. "So it's all right if it happens to us but not if it happens to you?
"I didn't say that."
"Yes, you did."
"Ooh," says Hayden. "This is getting good."
"They say it's painless," says Emby—as if that were any consolation.
"Yeah?" says Connor. "Well, why don't you go ask all the pieces of Humphrey Dunfee how painless it was?"
The name settles like a frost around them. The jolts and rattles of turbulence grow sharper.
"So . . . you heard that story too?" says Diego. "Just because there are stories like that, doesn't mean unwinding is all bad," says Emby. "It helps people."
"You sound like a tithe," says Diego.
Connor finds himself personally insulted by that. "No, he doesn't. I know a tithe. His ideas might have been a little bit out there, but he wasn't stupid." The thought of Lev brings with it a wave of despair. Connor doesn't fight it—he just lets it wash through him, then drain away. He doesn't know a tithe; he knew one. One who has certainly met his destiny by now.
"Are you calling me stupid?" says Emby.
"I think I just did."
Hayden laughs. "Hey, the Mouth Breather is right— unwinding does help people. If it wasn't for unwinding, there'd be bald guys again—and wouldn't that be horrible?"
Diego snickers, but Connor is not the least bit amused. "Emby, why don't you do us all a favor and use your mouth for breathing instead of talking until we land, or crash, or whatever."
"You might think I'm stupid, but I got a good reason for the way I feel," Emby says. "When I was little, I was diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis. Both my lungs were shutting down. I was gonna die. So they took out both my dying lungs and gave me a single lung from an Unwind. The only reason I'm alive is because that kid got unwound."
"So," says Connor, "your life is more important than his?"
"He was already unwound—it's not like I did it to him. If I didn't get that lung, someone else would have."
In his anger, Connor's voice begins to rise, even though Emby's only a couple of feet away at most. "If there wasn't unwinding, there'd be fewer surgeons, and more doctors. If there wasn't unwinding, they'd go back to trying to cure diseases instead of just replacing stuff with someone else's."
And suddenly the Mouth Breather's voice rings out with a ferocity that catches Connor by surprise.
