Graduation Day
Page 46
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“If you’ve changed your mind, we could still leave. Five Lakes—”
“I’m not going back to Five Lakes.”
Tomas takes a deep breath and nods. “I didn’t think you would, but I’d hoped . . .” He looks past me, down the roadway. Despite his desire to see The Testing ended, he wants more than anything to go home. To forget. I understand that longing, but there is no forgetting what we have seen and done. The only way to live with our actions is to end the very thing that caused them. Or die trying.
He sets his shoulders and asks, “Where do we go from here?”
I climb onto my bike and say, “First to the president’s office. There are weapons there that we’ll need. Then we’re going to hide in a place where no one will find us and plan our attack. If the others get off campus, they’ll meet us there.”
I can tell Tomas wants to question me further, but there isn’t time. I push off and begin to pedal down the darkened roadway, scanning the area for any movement near the buildings that we pass. The structures in the area immediately outside the University are used by professors and their families, although a few are designated for use by colony officials and scientists who have come to Tosu City. Since it is approaching nine o’clock, past the time the law allows the use of electricity in nongovernment and University buildings, the houses are dark. Here and there I see a flicker of light coming from a window, telling me some families are using candlelight.
The clouds dissipate and the moon appears. It is only a sliver, but even that meager, hazy light helps us move faster than we otherwise could. It is hard to spot the places where the road has fallen into disrepair. But we continue to head southbound, toward the heart of the city.
Everything about this journey, us riding bicycles, Tomas’s breathing, and the nervous clench of my muscles, reminds me of the fourth phase of The Testing, when Tomas and I had only our wits and each other to help us survive. Perhaps it is because I remember how we beat the odds that I do not feel the same fear now that I did then. And strange as it seems, for the first time since I was selected for The Testing, my actions are my own. Yes, Dr. Barnes and his officials will be searching for me. Yes, President Collindar expects me to do a job that almost everyone in my colony would find unthinkable. But my flight from the University means I no longer am accountable to either of them. For the first time in a long time, my life is in my own hands. Though I can’t know if that life will last much longer than the next couple of days, I at least know that this time belongs to me.
Chapter 13
THE TRANSIT COMMUNICATOR and the lights from the windows of the government buildings in the center of the city guide our travel. The residential neighborhoods we ride through are quiet. We hear nothing to give any indication of pursuit. Still, I find myself casting glances over my shoulder and pushing my legs. We need to get to the president’s office and leave again before the search for us extends past the University grounds.
Because government officials are known to toil late into the night, I have little doubt there will be people working on the president’s projects when I arrive. If I am lucky, they will not question my presence. They will, however, wonder about Tomas, which is why I lead him to the building where Michal once felt it was safe to talk.
“You won’t be allowed to come into the building with me. You can stay here,” I say, testing the door. When it opens, I heave a sigh of relief.
While individual offices and rooms are often locked, the doors to most buildings are kept unfastened because of what happened during the Fifth through Seventh Stages of War, when chemical-laden rain fell from the sky. People caught in those downpours sought shelter, but those who were not near their homes or vehicles succumbed to the toxins in the deadly rains because they had nowhere to take cover.
I wait for Tomas to protest. He only warns me to be careful and hurry back.
Using one of the windowless rooms inside the building, I change into fresh clothes from my bag and untangle my hair with my fingers. I walk back toward the front door and into Tomas’s arms. I hug him tight before striding out. While the streets we rode coming here were empty, here in the heart of the city I spot several skimmers as they travel to or from government buildings, as well as two people in the distance traveling on foot. I store my bicycle in the holding rack and walk into the building with my shoulders straight and my head high. As if I belong here.
One of the two Safety officials inside the foyer looks up from his log and gets to his feet to verify my clearance. His movements are annoyingly unhurried as I pull up the sleeve of my jacket and display the bracelet on my wrist.
He checks his clipboard and nods. I force myself to keep a moderate pace as I head for the stairs and start climbing. Still, I am out of breath when I reach the fifth floor and punch the code into the keypad next to the door. Once again I find myself in the storage room, taking stock of the inventory. But this time, instead of avoiding the weapons, I reach for them.
I open a box of bullets and reload the gun Raffe gave me. I then slide several boxes of ammunition, three additional handguns, and several long, deadly-looking knives into my bag. This isn’t The Testing, when I could only choose three items to keep me alive. Now I can take whatever I can fit in my bag. I turn and walk toward bins containing canisters of explosive powders and chemicals. Seeing the explosives makes me think of Enzo. I can’t help wondering if he is still alive and whether the medical team will be able to keep him that way and repair the damage he has suffered. I hope Raffe will have the answers to those questions when next we speak. Until then, I cannot let the memory of Enzo or the guilt I feel stop me from doing what must be done.
“I’m not going back to Five Lakes.”
Tomas takes a deep breath and nods. “I didn’t think you would, but I’d hoped . . .” He looks past me, down the roadway. Despite his desire to see The Testing ended, he wants more than anything to go home. To forget. I understand that longing, but there is no forgetting what we have seen and done. The only way to live with our actions is to end the very thing that caused them. Or die trying.
He sets his shoulders and asks, “Where do we go from here?”
I climb onto my bike and say, “First to the president’s office. There are weapons there that we’ll need. Then we’re going to hide in a place where no one will find us and plan our attack. If the others get off campus, they’ll meet us there.”
I can tell Tomas wants to question me further, but there isn’t time. I push off and begin to pedal down the darkened roadway, scanning the area for any movement near the buildings that we pass. The structures in the area immediately outside the University are used by professors and their families, although a few are designated for use by colony officials and scientists who have come to Tosu City. Since it is approaching nine o’clock, past the time the law allows the use of electricity in nongovernment and University buildings, the houses are dark. Here and there I see a flicker of light coming from a window, telling me some families are using candlelight.
The clouds dissipate and the moon appears. It is only a sliver, but even that meager, hazy light helps us move faster than we otherwise could. It is hard to spot the places where the road has fallen into disrepair. But we continue to head southbound, toward the heart of the city.
Everything about this journey, us riding bicycles, Tomas’s breathing, and the nervous clench of my muscles, reminds me of the fourth phase of The Testing, when Tomas and I had only our wits and each other to help us survive. Perhaps it is because I remember how we beat the odds that I do not feel the same fear now that I did then. And strange as it seems, for the first time since I was selected for The Testing, my actions are my own. Yes, Dr. Barnes and his officials will be searching for me. Yes, President Collindar expects me to do a job that almost everyone in my colony would find unthinkable. But my flight from the University means I no longer am accountable to either of them. For the first time in a long time, my life is in my own hands. Though I can’t know if that life will last much longer than the next couple of days, I at least know that this time belongs to me.
Chapter 13
THE TRANSIT COMMUNICATOR and the lights from the windows of the government buildings in the center of the city guide our travel. The residential neighborhoods we ride through are quiet. We hear nothing to give any indication of pursuit. Still, I find myself casting glances over my shoulder and pushing my legs. We need to get to the president’s office and leave again before the search for us extends past the University grounds.
Because government officials are known to toil late into the night, I have little doubt there will be people working on the president’s projects when I arrive. If I am lucky, they will not question my presence. They will, however, wonder about Tomas, which is why I lead him to the building where Michal once felt it was safe to talk.
“You won’t be allowed to come into the building with me. You can stay here,” I say, testing the door. When it opens, I heave a sigh of relief.
While individual offices and rooms are often locked, the doors to most buildings are kept unfastened because of what happened during the Fifth through Seventh Stages of War, when chemical-laden rain fell from the sky. People caught in those downpours sought shelter, but those who were not near their homes or vehicles succumbed to the toxins in the deadly rains because they had nowhere to take cover.
I wait for Tomas to protest. He only warns me to be careful and hurry back.
Using one of the windowless rooms inside the building, I change into fresh clothes from my bag and untangle my hair with my fingers. I walk back toward the front door and into Tomas’s arms. I hug him tight before striding out. While the streets we rode coming here were empty, here in the heart of the city I spot several skimmers as they travel to or from government buildings, as well as two people in the distance traveling on foot. I store my bicycle in the holding rack and walk into the building with my shoulders straight and my head high. As if I belong here.
One of the two Safety officials inside the foyer looks up from his log and gets to his feet to verify my clearance. His movements are annoyingly unhurried as I pull up the sleeve of my jacket and display the bracelet on my wrist.
He checks his clipboard and nods. I force myself to keep a moderate pace as I head for the stairs and start climbing. Still, I am out of breath when I reach the fifth floor and punch the code into the keypad next to the door. Once again I find myself in the storage room, taking stock of the inventory. But this time, instead of avoiding the weapons, I reach for them.
I open a box of bullets and reload the gun Raffe gave me. I then slide several boxes of ammunition, three additional handguns, and several long, deadly-looking knives into my bag. This isn’t The Testing, when I could only choose three items to keep me alive. Now I can take whatever I can fit in my bag. I turn and walk toward bins containing canisters of explosive powders and chemicals. Seeing the explosives makes me think of Enzo. I can’t help wondering if he is still alive and whether the medical team will be able to keep him that way and repair the damage he has suffered. I hope Raffe will have the answers to those questions when next we speak. Until then, I cannot let the memory of Enzo or the guilt I feel stop me from doing what must be done.
