Page 31

At first glance, nothing looked different inside, either. A few people were on the boardwalk, and someone had started a fire in the pit. But there was complete silence. Harvard was in the courtyard, standing alone, gazing motionless up at the sky. Mouse, still in her pajamas and bare feet, sat on a bench, her legs pulled up to her chest. She was rocking slightly, eyes closed. Walnut sat on the edge of the walkway, and he looked up when I passed. Neither of us said anything.

Lily’s door was closed, and I knocked. The old wood rattled.

I had to do something. And maybe Lily could help. Lily wouldn’t have waited for Becky—she would have run for the truck. She’d have gone for help.

There was no answer. I knocked again.

“She’s not here.”

I turned to see Jane. She wore the same thin coat and jeans as when I’d first seen her in the barn, and her short hair was matted from sleep. She walked up to me, looking closely at my face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

She touched my forehead with one finger, gently tracing a line over my eye. “Does that hurt?”

“I didn’t realize anything was there.” I touched the spot and felt a tender bruise. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You look cold,” she said, and turned toward the fire pit, where a few others were gathered. She nodded for me to join her.

I followed. Harvard was still staring at the sky. I wondered if he was going to lose it. I had a hard time thinking anyone missed Birdman—but it’s not like Harvard was the nicest guy, either. They were a good fit. Mouse, too.

Jane and I sat on the edge of the boardwalk, close enough to feel the heat. I stretched my legs out, edging my cold feet toward the fire.

“Mason liked you,” Jane said. “A lot.”

I nodded.

“He was lonely,” she said. “I mean, his dupe was. But the real Mason felt it. You changed that.”

“I hardly even talked to him since I got here.” I glanced over at her. She’d been watching my face the whole time, studying me. She smiled a little, and then turned to the fire.

I took off my damp shoes and propped them on a rock to dry out. Steam rose off my socks as I held my feet up to the heat.

“Mason tried to escape this morning,” I said.

Jane was plainly shocked.

“He tried to electrocute Iceman,” I said. “That’s why Isaiah’s body was moved to the river.”

Jane narrowed her eyes. “Why would he do that?”

“He was trying to help me—kill Iceman, then I take the truck and leave.”

One of the other girls spoke. “You knew about this?”

I shrugged. “He told me maybe five minutes before Iceman showed up. I didn’t have time to do anything.” It was a lie. I knew Becky had been right. I could have done something.

“Iceman wasn’t electrocuted,” one of them said.

“No,” I said. “It didn’t work.” I didn’t even know whether that was true. It might have knocked him out for a minute, maybe more. He was soaking wet—maybe he’d fallen in.

“Did Mason ever tell you where he was from?” Jane asked.

“New York, I think.” I pulled my socks off and laid them on one of the rocks surrounding the pit. My feet were white. I sat on the dirt, closer to the fire.

Jane climbed off the boardwalk and sat down beside me. “He wasn’t from New York,” she said. “He just told people that. He was a runaway. He grew up on a farm. Arkansas, I think.”

“Really?”

“He wanted to get out of here more than anybody,” she said. “He actually has a family somewhere.”

“I thought Maxfield didn’t take kids with families.”

Jane shook her head. “They take people no one will miss. He’d been on his own for a long time—maybe a year—when he ended up here. He was depressed. Before you became his roommate, we all were worried Maxfield would kill him, like Dylan.”

I looked back at the fire. One girl stood and put another log in the center. The fire licked it, surrounding it with bright yellow flames until the edges turned black and the log was just another part of the blaze.

“They can’t keep this up,” I said.

The other girl spoke. “Look where you are. They were here a hundred years before we showed up. And they’re going to be here a hundred years after we’re gone.”

Harvard, who was far enough away that he probably couldn’t hear us, laughed.

The girl pointed at him. “You know what’s happening to him?”

I watched him. He was still staring at the sky, a grin on his face.

“A nervous breakdown?”

She rubbed her hands over her face and stood. “Feedback.”

I looked at her, and then back at him. This wasn’t like when Shelly was getting feedback. She had to sit down, looked like she was fighting a bad headache. Harvard was in a trance, or high.

“They started,” Jane said. “A couple others, too, during the night.”

“The school’s using dupes again?”

Jane sighed. “That’s what we’re here for.”

“I should have run,” I said.

“What?”

“Mason told me his plan. I should have gone faster.”

Jane didn’t respond.

I stared into the fire. “I’m going to leave.”

Her voice was small. “When?”

“As soon as I can pack.” I pointed over at Harvard. “I need to talk to him, too.” I still hadn’t heard whether he’d discovered anything during the dissection.

“It’s not safe out there,” Jane said.

“Safer than staying here.”

I was trying to convince myself that I was going because I had a duty to go. That this was still about Becky’s trust, about the calls of the wounded at the fence as they urged me to run for help.

But the truth was, I wanted to leave now because everyone would be safer when I was gone.

“Birdman used to say that the point of the fort was for escape,” Jane said, leaning forward and stretching her hands toward the fire. “He’d tell people that we had all the security here because we were planning something. But he wasn’t. He never was.”

“So why did he keep it so secure?”

“Paranoia,” she said. “Whatever else Birdman was, however he acted, he was scared. I mean, he could get in fights and intimidate people, but he was terrified of Maxfield. He hated having them in his head.”

“But …” I said, and then couldn’t think of anything to say.

I watched as Harvard sat down, the otherworldly smile still gleaming on his face.

“Some people like it,” Jane said, noticing where I was staring.

“Like the feedback? Why?”

“Depends on what’s going on. Everyone likes it if it’s good—you can’t help it. But sometimes even the bad stuff is better than being here. It’s like living another life.”

I wondered what Harvard was seeing. Was he back at the school? Was Maxfield repopulating the school with dupes so they could bring in a fresh batch of humans for their tests?

I remembered my first day there—how excited I was as I drove up. It was the nicest school I’d ever been to. Well maintained, everything worked, good food. Looking back, I realized the problems seemed easy. I wanted my freedom, and the gangs were hurting people, but no one was dying. There wasn’t the constant suffering like there was here.