Graduation Day
Page 35
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I reach into my bag and check the tracking monitor. Both devices are located near each other, not far to the south of where I am now. I am glad to see two lights on the screen. It means Raffe’s is still active. He has not yet failed his test. It is something to be grateful for.
Tomas’s face is flushed but free of tears when he returns with medical supplies.
“Are you okay?” I ask, even though I know he’s not. How could he be after what has happened?
“Let’s worry about getting you patched up. Then we’ll talk.” He kneels on the ground and rolls up my pants leg. I flinch when I see the bloody tear in my flesh. I focus on Tomas’s face as he wipes the wound with a wet cloth. I bite my lip and taste blood but I do not call out.
Tomas’s hands shake as he spreads a healing ointment on my leg. As the medication begins to leech the pain from my flesh, he grabs the bandages and says, “Kerrick likes to help first- and second-year students with genetics homework. He has a way of explaining things that makes the most complicated theory accessible. He’s easy to talk to, and he never forgets a single detail. His memory is incredible.”
Likes. Has. Is. All present-tense. Despite carrying his dead body, Tomas has not accepted that Kerrick is gone.
“You talked to Kerrick about Dreu Owens.”
“You said Dreu had been given a job in Genetic studies. I was hoping that because Kerrick’s internship involves genetics, he might have heard of him.”
“Had he?”
“Kerrick says Dreu was assigned to the lab where he interned during his first year. He was working with a team to identify mutated genes in raccoons and rabbits. They were hoping once those genes are identified they can find a way to isolate the mutation and eventually eliminate it.”
“Where’s Dreu Owens now?” I ask.
“Kerrick wasn’t sure.” Tomas frowns. “He suggested I go through the files he used for his research project. The files he said are kept in one of the offices in this building.”
“Did you talk about anything else?” Anything that would cause this kind of attack?
“He was curious why I was looking for Dreu now instead of when I first came to the University. When I said you overheard someone at the president’s office mention Dreu and the fact that he, too, was from Five Lakes, Kerrick said I might want to wait to go through the records and look for Dreu. Otherwise teachers might assume I have too much free time and come up with more work for me to do. I thought he was just joking the way he always does.”
Instead, Kerrick was issuing a warning to Tomas. To stay away from Dreu Owens. Tomas didn’t, and now Kerrick and Marin are dead.
“They must have been members of the rebellion.” It’s the only explanation I can come up with. “Zeen said the rebels had been given orders to remove anyone who might interfere with the success of their mission. Either Dreu has something to do with the rebellion or just mentioning his name was enough to cause worry that you could disrupt their plans.”
The sound of a door slamming makes us jump. Someone is in the building.
“You need to get out of here.” Tomas helps me to my feet.
“What about you?”
“I’ll go, too, but first I want to look around the offices and see if the files Kerrick talked about really exist. I doubt it, but if Dreu is important to the rebellion, it would be good to know why. Kerrick and Marin lost their lives. I’d rather it wasn’t for nothing.” Tomas looks out into the hall. “This way.”
He leads me to the unlocked westernmost entrance he arrived through and tells me to wait as he steps out and looks around. A moment later, he leads me out into the cool, crisp air.
“How’s the leg?” he asks.
“Fine.”
“Good.” Tomas runs a hand over my cheek but then frowns. “I don’t think we can wait much longer to put the president’s plan into action. If Kerrick was ready to attack on the chance I might interfere with the rebellion, there’s no telling what the other rebel students might do. This place could end up as a battleground any moment. If we’re going to finish this, we have to act now.”
Anger simmers below Tomas’s logic. One of his hands is clenched in a fist at his side. He who once wished to flee has found in Kerrick’s and Marin’s deaths the need to fight.
“Stacia is in. If everything goes according to plan, by tomorrow morning the others will be, too.” I entwine my fingers through his. “Then we make this right.”
I stand on tiptoe and place a kiss on Tomas’s jaw. Then, as much as I hate leaving him, I turn and walk toward the south. When I glance back to look for him, he’s gone. My leg aches as I hurry down the walkway. The pain reminds me that the bullet that ripped open my pants also left them stained with blood. I can’t go back to the residence looking like this.
I duck into one of the Science buildings at the edge of campus, locate the bathroom on the first floor, and change into the pair of gray pants I have in my bag. I wash the blood from my hands and then run my fingers through my hair in an effort to erase all evidence of my time at the stadium. In the past several days, three students have died on account of my actions. At any moment another might be injured or killed because of something I created. Somehow, remarkably, my image in the reflector looks unchanged. How wrong that seems and yet how lucky it’s true. Because there is still so much more to do before this ends. Maybe once it is over people will understand what I have become. Maybe I’ll understand as well.
Tomas’s face is flushed but free of tears when he returns with medical supplies.
“Are you okay?” I ask, even though I know he’s not. How could he be after what has happened?
“Let’s worry about getting you patched up. Then we’ll talk.” He kneels on the ground and rolls up my pants leg. I flinch when I see the bloody tear in my flesh. I focus on Tomas’s face as he wipes the wound with a wet cloth. I bite my lip and taste blood but I do not call out.
Tomas’s hands shake as he spreads a healing ointment on my leg. As the medication begins to leech the pain from my flesh, he grabs the bandages and says, “Kerrick likes to help first- and second-year students with genetics homework. He has a way of explaining things that makes the most complicated theory accessible. He’s easy to talk to, and he never forgets a single detail. His memory is incredible.”
Likes. Has. Is. All present-tense. Despite carrying his dead body, Tomas has not accepted that Kerrick is gone.
“You talked to Kerrick about Dreu Owens.”
“You said Dreu had been given a job in Genetic studies. I was hoping that because Kerrick’s internship involves genetics, he might have heard of him.”
“Had he?”
“Kerrick says Dreu was assigned to the lab where he interned during his first year. He was working with a team to identify mutated genes in raccoons and rabbits. They were hoping once those genes are identified they can find a way to isolate the mutation and eventually eliminate it.”
“Where’s Dreu Owens now?” I ask.
“Kerrick wasn’t sure.” Tomas frowns. “He suggested I go through the files he used for his research project. The files he said are kept in one of the offices in this building.”
“Did you talk about anything else?” Anything that would cause this kind of attack?
“He was curious why I was looking for Dreu now instead of when I first came to the University. When I said you overheard someone at the president’s office mention Dreu and the fact that he, too, was from Five Lakes, Kerrick said I might want to wait to go through the records and look for Dreu. Otherwise teachers might assume I have too much free time and come up with more work for me to do. I thought he was just joking the way he always does.”
Instead, Kerrick was issuing a warning to Tomas. To stay away from Dreu Owens. Tomas didn’t, and now Kerrick and Marin are dead.
“They must have been members of the rebellion.” It’s the only explanation I can come up with. “Zeen said the rebels had been given orders to remove anyone who might interfere with the success of their mission. Either Dreu has something to do with the rebellion or just mentioning his name was enough to cause worry that you could disrupt their plans.”
The sound of a door slamming makes us jump. Someone is in the building.
“You need to get out of here.” Tomas helps me to my feet.
“What about you?”
“I’ll go, too, but first I want to look around the offices and see if the files Kerrick talked about really exist. I doubt it, but if Dreu is important to the rebellion, it would be good to know why. Kerrick and Marin lost their lives. I’d rather it wasn’t for nothing.” Tomas looks out into the hall. “This way.”
He leads me to the unlocked westernmost entrance he arrived through and tells me to wait as he steps out and looks around. A moment later, he leads me out into the cool, crisp air.
“How’s the leg?” he asks.
“Fine.”
“Good.” Tomas runs a hand over my cheek but then frowns. “I don’t think we can wait much longer to put the president’s plan into action. If Kerrick was ready to attack on the chance I might interfere with the rebellion, there’s no telling what the other rebel students might do. This place could end up as a battleground any moment. If we’re going to finish this, we have to act now.”
Anger simmers below Tomas’s logic. One of his hands is clenched in a fist at his side. He who once wished to flee has found in Kerrick’s and Marin’s deaths the need to fight.
“Stacia is in. If everything goes according to plan, by tomorrow morning the others will be, too.” I entwine my fingers through his. “Then we make this right.”
I stand on tiptoe and place a kiss on Tomas’s jaw. Then, as much as I hate leaving him, I turn and walk toward the south. When I glance back to look for him, he’s gone. My leg aches as I hurry down the walkway. The pain reminds me that the bullet that ripped open my pants also left them stained with blood. I can’t go back to the residence looking like this.
I duck into one of the Science buildings at the edge of campus, locate the bathroom on the first floor, and change into the pair of gray pants I have in my bag. I wash the blood from my hands and then run my fingers through my hair in an effort to erase all evidence of my time at the stadium. In the past several days, three students have died on account of my actions. At any moment another might be injured or killed because of something I created. Somehow, remarkably, my image in the reflector looks unchanged. How wrong that seems and yet how lucky it’s true. Because there is still so much more to do before this ends. Maybe once it is over people will understand what I have become. Maybe I’ll understand as well.
