Feedback (21 page)

Ms. Vaughn had something silver—handcuffs. She slapped one onto Becky’s wrist, and then roughly rolled her onto her face in the dirt, fighting for her other hand.

I brought down the stake, squarely into Ms. Vaughn’s back.

The tip drove into the skin, but only an inch, and I couldn’t do any more. In a flash, Ms. Vaughn whipped her arm out, hitting me below the knees with the strength of a bear. I dropped.

Ms. Vaughn had Becky’s other arm now—her injured arm—and was cranking it behind Becky’s back.

I lashed out again, and Ms. Vaughn batted me away in one fluid motion.

I landed face-first in the dirt, dazed, and as I turned my head I saw it. The discarded Taser.

I tore off the cartridge, like Gabby had done, flipped a switch, and rammed the sparking gun into Ms. Vaughn’s neck.

Without a sound, Ms. Vaughn collapsed, falling on top of Becky and then rolling down into the center of the stream. She was lifeless, limp and silent.

Becky was gritting her teeth, sitting up and cradling her injured arm against her chest.

I dug through Ms. Vaughn’s pockets and found the truck keys, but the handcuff key wasn’t there. I stuffed those into my pocket and kept looking.

“How did you stop her?” Becky said, standing. I handed her the Taser.

“I can’t find the key.”

“It’s okay. We need to go.”

I took her hand and we jogged ahead. We had no food, no weapons. Becky didn’t have a coat. We couldn’t escape now. We’d have to wait until things died down, and get back inside. Maybe our attack into the elevator could even still work.

I couldn’t see the town, but I smelled the wood smoke. And even out here, I heard the rumble. It was still there.

“Thank you,” Becky said after several minutes. “For coming for me.”

“Always.”

By the time we made it back, we could hear four-wheelers in the forest behind us. They were searching.

We crouched in a patch of tall grass at the tree line and watched the town. There was a cloud of dust in the center, swirling in the cold wind.

“Are they grading the road?” Becky asked.

“I don’t even know what that means,” I said with a smile.

Becky smirked. “We can’t all grow up in the country. Only the lucky ones.”

“It sounds like an engine. But something big.”

Becky turned and looked back into the forest. “We need to get out of here.”

I pointed to the fort. “If we can get back into the Basement, we can hide there until they leave.”

“Which Basement? The fort or the tunnel?”

“The fort. We can’t lead them to the tunnel.”

“Back into the center of everything?” she said, and stood. “Well, at least they won’t be expecting it.” She was pretending to be healthy, but her breathing had been labored since the fight, never really calming back down, and her hand shook in mine.

We walked the perimeter of the town, staying deep enough inside the trees to avoid being seen. It took about ten minutes to get behind the fort. From the back we couldn’t see any sign of the androids. Even the rumble seemed to have dissipated. I couldn’t hear the four-wheelers anymore.

We waited and listened. Nothing changed, in front of us or behind. There wasn’t much here—no reason for anyone to be watching. In all the time I’d been at the town, this was the first time I’d even seen the fort from the back.

“Run or crawl?” I asked.

Becky let out a quiet, wheezy laugh. “They both sound so great.”

“I can carry you.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. I vote run.”

We took off. It wasn’t far, but it felt awful—exposed and dangerous. Becky was beside me the whole way, ignoring the pain in her arm as she ran at full speed. We both hit the adobe, falling into a crouch along the base of the wall.

I moved to the nearest window and peered in. The room was empty, but I could see through the door to the courtyard beyond. A few guys were standing and talking. A girl sat on the boardwalk, getting feedback.

“They’re awake again,” I whispered to Becky. “Iceman must have left.”

We crept around the side of the fort, cautiously watching and listening. No one on the road, no one by the trees or down by the ford.

I gulped a deep breath and then took Becky by the hand. We stood, turned the corner of the fort, and ran for the front door.

Everyone looked at us as we entered, murmurs bouncing around the courtyard, but we didn’t stop. Becky led the way to Carrie’s room, throwing the door open. No one was inside.

I slid the bed over to the wall, and in a moment Becky was up in the Basement.

“I’m going to find the others,” I said.

Becky frowned, looking down at me. “Can’t you wait?”

“I’ll be right back. It’s okay. They’re gone.”

I hopped to the floor and pushed the bed away from the wall. Becky watched me from the hole.

“Hey,” she said as I touched the doorknob.

“Yeah?”

She smiled. “Hurry back.”

“Three minutes, tops.”

Becky pulled the panel into place, and I rehung the torn mural hiding the Basement entrance. I stepped outside.

Everyone was staring at me.

I crossed the courtyard to where Mouse was sitting. Harvard was beside her on the bench, grinning and dazed.

“You’re alive,” she said. Her face was red, angry.

“What happened?”

She shook her head. I noticed she had a scrape on her cheek, probably from where she fell when the implant immobilized her.

“What was the dust?” I asked.

Mouse snorted in disgust. “You didn’t see?”

“No. Just saw dust.”

“They flattened the commissary. Bulldozed the whole thing, one big heap of rubble.”

“What?” That was it. Our attack was over.

“They’ll be trucking the food in now.”

“Did they say why?”

Her eyes, which had been darting around the courtyard, focused on me. “No. But I imagine we have you to thank?”

I shook my head and turned to leave. Our plan was destroyed. I’d have to go out through the forest.

I headed for the barn. I needed to find Shelly and the others. Had Maxfield punished them for being involved?

“Where are you going?” Mouse called after me.

“Why do you care?”

The last thing I wanted was to stay in that fort and talk to Mouse and her cronies. I jogged down the road, ducking through the trees and crossing the stream. All the rocks were out of place, the ford now a mass of mud and debris where the bulldozer had plowed through. I had to step in the water, but I didn’t care. I had other things on my mind.

The air was still laced with dust as I climbed the bank and saw what was left of the commissary.

They hadn’t flattened it, like Mouse had said. It was just the back, where the elevator had been. They knew what we were planning, and they were sending a message.

There were people all around, some staring at the demolition, others sitting down getting feedback. The school had to be in full swing, and emotional—they were probably seeing all the new kids coming. There would be fights and crying and arguing. And the school was kidnapping now, too; at least when I showed up there was some pretense that Maxfield was a good thing.

I left the commissary, jogging through the crowd to the barn. No one was outside, and when I jumped up to the door I saw it was empty. Had they been taken?

I wasn’t worried now. I was mad. The message Maxfield sent today wasn’t to anyone else—it was to us, to me. They knew I was here. They could do whatever they wanted, and I couldn’t stop them.

I ran up the steps of the nearest barrack and looked in.

“Anyone seen Shelly?”

Nothing but shaking heads.

I hopped down and ran to the next. I was about to ask again, but Gabby was right inside the door.

“You’re okay!” she said, jumping up and hugging me. I could see Shelly over Gabby’s shoulder, wrapping a bandage around someone’s head.

“I’m okay.”

“What about Becky?”

“She’s fine—”

We all heard it at once. It was impossible to ignore. Engines. Lots of them.

I looked out the door just in time to see someone on a four-wheeler zipping in across the field. I heard others.

There was a thud behind me, and then another and another. Gabby fell, knocking against me before she smacked her head on the floor.

It was a trap.

They must have seen us come back. They knew we would, and they left spies.

I jumped down. The four-wheeler I’d seen wasn’t heading toward me. It was on a direct course for the ford. It was going to cross the stream. It was going to the fort.

No.

The work site was just across the road, and I darted to the wheelbarrow and grabbed the best weapon I could find—a square-ended shovel. It was old and heavy, with a wood handle and a steel blade. I ran for the stream.

It had been Mouse. She’d tried to get me to stay at the fort, asked me where I was going. She and all her friends had new coats, new wood to fix the place up. She’d sold us out.

The road was littered with paralyzed bodies, and I jumped over them as I chased the four-wheeler. Iceman hadn’t seen me yet. He was trying to negotiate the freshly churned mud and water. One wheel caught a rock and spun.

I never slowed. I drew back, the shovel over my shoulder like a baseball bat, and I swung midstride. The shovel hit him squarely in the head, launching him off the ATV and into the stream. For a moment he didn’t move, and by the time he did it was too late. I brought the sharp blade down on his neck. There was a bright spark as his head separated from his body. His arms and legs flailed for a moment, and then stopped.

I charged up the bank, the sound of engines still all around me. I paused at the top, hidden in the bushes.

Both trucks were there, parked at the fort, and another four-wheeler.

Becky screamed—loud for an instant, and then silence.

I ran for the door. There had to be at least three androids inside the fort, one for each vehicle. I didn’t know whether I could take them all with my shovel, but I couldn’t let them get Becky. I couldn’t.

I’d made it to the front of the lead truck when Ms. Vaughn appeared at the gate. She saw me immediately, and drew her Taser. I was still too far away for her to get a shot, and I kept the truck between us.

Iceman came out next, Becky slung over his shoulder, as unconscious as the paralyzed students. She was bleeding from her forehead.

Ms. Vaughn called to him, and Iceman looked over at me. He dropped Becky roughly in the back of the truck, but instead of joining Ms. Vaughn in the fight he climbed in the cab and started the engine.

“No!” I shouted, and ran. Ms. Vaughn fired her Taser and missed. I dashed past her to the truck, which was backing away fast. Iceman spun the wheel, turning the truck around. He stopped for just a moment to change from reverse to drive, and I smashed the shovel into the window, shattering the glass.

Dirt flew from his tires, and the truck tore away from me.

He was down the road and in the trees in an instant.

Becky was gone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I
heard Ms. Vaughn behind me, and I spun, swinging the heavy shovel. But she was too close, almost on top of me, and I hit her with only the handle, not the blade. Even so, it knocked us both off balance, and we each took a step back.

There was still no sign of the other guy from the fort, but I could hear at least one other four-wheeler behind me somewhere.

I held the shovel like an ax, one hand near the blade and one lower on the heavy handle.

She held the Taser in her right hand. She was smiling.

Maybe I should let them take me. Go wherever Becky was going, try to save her there.

No. Even if they didn’t kill us, they’d put the implants in our heads. We’d be back here, trapped like everyone else. I had to find another way.

I jabbed the blade at Ms. Vaughn, and she ducked back and then immediately lunged at me. I was off guard, the long shovel hard to control, but I was able to avoid the Taser.

She lunged again, but I was ready. She was watching the blade, so I brought the back end of the handle forward, right into her teeth.

Ms. Vaughn reeled, blood flowing from her mouth, but she didn’t seem to be in any real pain.

“It’s useless,” she spat. “Turn yourself in.”

I swung the shovel—the blade again—and she blocked it on her arm. The impact shook us both, but she didn’t flinch, despite the bleeding slash in her shirtsleeve.

“I’m getting her back,” I said.

“You’re going to die.”

“I’ve already killed one of your buddies.”

“There are more where he came from.”

“Doesn’t it bother you? That you’re just a duplicate?”

She laughed, cruel and evil. “Are you trying to give me some existential crisis?” The front of her shirt and neck were wet with blood.

“You’re a slave.”

“I enjoy what I do,” she said, and lunged.

I jumped back and swung the shovel at her legs. It wasn’t a great hit, but she tripped and fell down on one knee.

I didn’t wait. I thrust the blunt end of the handle at her, hitting her square in the sternum. She stumbled backward, dropping the Taser and falling.

An engine roared behind me as I brought the shovel down in a killing blow. Startled, I missed her neck and plunged the shovel into her shoulder, almost severing her arm.

I looked back. Another Ms. Vaughn was twenty feet away, climbing off her ATV. She held some kind of police baton, the long metal sticks the Society kids used for security.

I snatched up the fallen Taser, stuffing it into my jacket pocket.

“Remember me?” she said.

I backed up. The shovel was still my best weapon—a much longer reach than what she had.

The wounded Ms. Vaughn also stood, her mechanical arm dangling at her side, held on by a few cables. Even with only one arm and no weapon, she advanced toward me.

“You once held a knife to my neck,” the new one said. “You should have killed me when you got the chance.”

Every muscle in my body seemed to ache. My ribs still burned from the fight in the forest, and I knew I couldn’t hold them off much longer.