First (15 page)

Get Out

Mira

W
ith nothing else to do,
I decide to figure out the screen on my wall. Running my fingers along each side, I can’t find any buttons and am about ready to give up when a pleasant female voice booms from somewhere in my room. “I see you are having difficulty working your screen. All you have to do is say the word, and I will do as you wish.”

I crane my neck from side to side. “Who are you? Where are you?”

The soothing voice continues. “I’m your all-in-one entertainment advisor. I come pre-programmed with a list of appropriate channels for,” there’s a pause, “Mira of Chesaning Farms. If this is correct, say yes. My voice analyzer system will process your unique vocal signature to determine its authenticity. If you are, in fact,” pause again, “Mira of Chesaning, a list of predetermined shows will be displayed for your viewing pleasure. If you are not, my security program will alert security to the presence of an intruder and appropriate actions will be taken. Please proceed when ready.” Her pleasant monotone sends chills up and down my spine. Is she for real? What if I don’t say anything?

“But I’m Mira. I’ve never programmed this stupid machine. I just got here and—”

“System processing,” she interrupts me. I twist the top blanket on the bed in my hands. Would they throw me back in prison? Torture me? Kill me? I bite my bottom lip. Then from wherever the voice comes from now comes a low beep and she says, “Welcome, Mira of Chesaning. My name is Auto Voice Activated System, but you can call me AVAS. If you would like to proceed and view the designated broadcasts, please say ‘Proceed.’”

What the heck? “Umm, proceed.”

“Good. What are you interested in viewing today?”

I sit back on the bed and relax. Looks like I’m not going to get tortured today. “Umm, I don’t know. I’ve never watched anything before except in school. It was illegal where I came from.” Even now, faint twinges of unease, almost like I’m doing something wrong, make me look around, afraid to get caught.

“Might I suggest a news broadcast to start you out?”

I shrug. “Uhh, sure.”

The screen flashes to a pleasing forested background with a petite woman in a red suit and bleached blond hair standing in the front. She has a scary bright smile that never quite reaches her sky-blue eyes and a face that obviously let her make-up artist do what he wanted.

“Good evening, everyone. This is Ariel Rose with the DC Chronicle. Earlier today, I interviewed our nation’s most recent Second, Socrates’s chosen, Mira from Chesaning Farms. This is the same farm that not long ago hosted another Second, Adrian, selected by Thoreau.” Pictures flash of my cousin, a man who must be Thoreau, then Socrates, myself, and the farm. Next are the Chesanings sitting in what I recognize as their dining room.

“We are just so pleased.” Mrs. Chesaning clasps her hands together. “Mira is like one of our own children. She used to play dress-up and hide-and-go-seek with my daughters.”
What world is she living in? I’ve never played with those wretched brats in my life.
“We feel honored that Socrates picked his next Second from our farm and hope that he’s as happy with her quality as we were raising her.”

Quality, as in a piece of meat cooked to order?
Nice, thanks, Mrs. Chesaning.

The camera shifts back to the reporter. Her fake smile fades into what she must think of as her serious face. “Two days ago, Mira was threatened by a vicious member of the Live Once movement, the rebel leader Edward Flannigan. Luckily, military personnel were able to save her, and as I’m sure you’ll see, she is still quite shaken by her ordeal.”

The image changes to the lush green of the gardens. I’m perched on one of the stone benches, and Ariel Rose is on another one, facing me.

“Good morning. Do you mind if I call you Mira?”

My image says, “No,” and smiles brightly. Coldness spreads upward from my stomach.

“Excellent. How are you today?”

“Just lovely.” I smile at the camera.

“Great. So, Mira…” Ariel leans closer to her captive. “… tell us a little bit about yourself.” She smiles at the camera. “I’m sure there have to be a few of our viewers, somewhere out there, who aren’t familiar with your story.” She lets out a fake giggle. “Where are you from?”

“Chesaning Farms.” I watch myself stare blankly at the camera before smiling yet again. I look so stupid.

“Isn’t that the same farm where, only two years ago, your cousin was picked by Thoreau as a Second?”

“Yes.”

Ariel smiles brightly at the camera. “What was your job at the farm?”

“Before I was chosen, I worked with animals on the farm.”

After a pause, she continues. “How does your family feel about you being chosen?”

“Yes, they’re thrilled.” My interview-self stares blankly at the camera. I watch Ariel take a deep breath and smile, as if she’s actually talking to me.

“How did you feel? It’s such an honor.”

“I felt very excited and lucky!”
Wow
. I shake my head. Seeing it from this end, how could I ever think it was real?

“Why do you want to be Absolved?”

“I want to make my family proud of me. I want to repay the debt of my people and show that I’m not like the Texans who rebelled two hundred years ago.”

Ariel leans in closer, as if we’re best friends. “Now, everyone wants to know. How are you holding up after finding out about Mr. Flannigan’s betrayal? He was your mentor and teacher at the farm. It must have been extremely traumatizing.” She smiles at interview Mira, glances at the camera, then back at me.

My interview-self says nothing.

I can’t believe this. Will
knew
. He knew they were going to do this and didn’t tell me. “It’s all about appearances,” he’d said.
Thanks for the help, Will
. I don’t even try to quell the bitterness rising from my stomach.

She shakes her head. “You poor dear. You don’t have to protect him any longer. The free citizens know the truth. Those rebels aren’t going to hurt you anymore. You don’t have to be afraid. Mr. Flannigan has been sentenced to death.”

My interview-self smiles yet again, as if her words actually comfort me. “I feel betrayed and hurt. I can’t believe I trusted him.”
Is Tanner watching this? Does he know it’s fake?
They showed us Adrian’s interview. Surely, they’ll show mine as well.

“I never want to see him again.” At least I don’t smile this time. Pain wrenches through me. Please let Tanner see the truth and understand that this isn’t me.

“It’s all right, Mira. We know the rebels threatened your family and were prepared to kill you if you didn’t go with them. You’re such a brave young woman to be strong throughout this experience.”

Do people buy this?
I think back to Adrian’s interview: how happy he looked and how pleased that made his parents. I even thought he was better off, so yes, they do buy it. My family probably will, too.

“Thank you.”

“Denial, fear, terror: these are the legacies left over from her rebel attack. However, Mira has shown herself to be extremely strong, and I’m sure Socrates is very proud of her. You’ve heard it first from the DC Chronicle. We’ll bring you more as events unfold. This is Ariel Rose. Keep safe, everyone, and please report any suspicious activity. You never know who might be a rebel.” A dark blue and white Capital News emblem flashes on a backdrop of the American flag.

My mind whirls. How dare they? That wasn’t a real interview. I flit back to what Will said about how I wouldn’t even recognize myself. Was this was he meant? Did he know this was going to happen? I stand up, enraged. I have to get out of here. I can’t—

“Would you like to watch anything else, ma’am?” AVAS asks, her voice just as pleasant as before.

“No,” I snap. “Just turn it off.”

“As you wish.” The screen goes blank.

The need to punch something, hit something, scream, and shout rushes to the surface. What can I do? I can’t leave. I can’t just go to the playground or relax by the stream in the woods by the farm, and I’m sure it’d get out if I trashed my room. Mr. Flannigan’s voice echoes in my head, telling me that his goal is to prepare me so I don’t embarrass Socrates. Right. They should have picked someone else.

I finally settle for picking up one of the gold pillows on the bed, scrunching it up in my fists, and throwing it across the room
. Some dangerous rebel you are, right, Mira?
I have to get out of here. The walls are closing in, and I can’t breathe. Should I call Will? No. The thought of seeing him fills me with the same anger I felt watching the news and seeing the lies they made me speak. He’s the last person I want to talk to right now. Frustrated, I walk to the door and try the handle, half expecting it to be locked, but it clicks open, and I step cautiously into the hall. Bullfrog’s chair is empty. Where is he? Taking a break? Might as well take advantage of it while I can, right?

Three other doors are at this end of the hall, one on my side, one on the other, and an exit at the end. In the other direction, I can see the darting shadows of people bustling at the other end of the hallway and turn away. I don’t really feel like company right now, so I follow the hallway until I find the service elevator.

I put my hand up to the pad, which glows white as it senses my presence. I scan my wrist. The pad blinks, then turns red. Shoot, what am I supposed to do now? All Will did was scan his wrist, right? I try it again. It flashes red again, and I remember the AVAS system in my room telling me that if I wasn’t who I was supposed to be, she would contact security. Would this do the same thing? If I scan my wrist again, will guards suddenly come pouring out of the locked doors, weapons drawn, ordering me to get down or they’ll shoot, like they did at the farm? I hesitate before lifting my wrist to the scanner again. Maybe I just don’t have the right angle. Maybe my hand has to be exactly straight to—

A broad hand lands hard on my shoulder, and another wraps around my mouth, jolting me out of my reverie and pulling me back away from the scanner. Terrified, I crane my head around to look into Will’s stormy eyes, now black with anger, which terrifies me, and I gouge at his hand with mine, but it’s no use. I’d have about as much luck moving the manor house with my bare hands. I stop struggling, and after a moment, he lets me go. Jumping back, I start to speak but he interrupts.

“What are you doing out here?” he growls.

“I-I-I just w-wanted to get out of my r-room,” I stammer. It sounds weak, even to me.

“You should have called me. What were you thinking? Do you have any idea what could happen to you? Where’s your guard?”

“I don’t know. He wasn’t there.” I glower at him. “I’m fine, obviously. No reason to be so mad at me.”

He takes a deep breath. “Please forgive me, Mira. But you don’t understand. This Smith isn’t like your little farm, where you can go off in the woods whenever you want. People are dangerous here.” Fear chases the anger away on his face.
What is he afraid of?

I step back, folding my arms in front of me. “You might have forgotten,” I reply, feeling snarky, “but there were some pretty dangerous people at my
little
farm, too.”

He lets out another deep breath, as if I’m taxing him somehow. “Look, I admit, that was a poor choice of words, but you can’t risk your life like this. Walking around unguarded is very treacherous. All those safeguards to make sure you are who you are, the guards at your door, having me at your beck and call, it’s all for a reason. Rebels have tried infiltrating the Smith before, and who knows,” he pauses for effect, “they might be in here already. Plotting something.” His words make me shiver.
Maybe he’s right? Maybe the guards and all the security is for my safety.

“But regardless of that,” he continues, “protecting Seconds is my job, and I’m pretty good at it.”

“I’m sorry for sneaking off.” I search his eyes, looking for some of our earlier connection, but now there is only the blank façade he’s polished from years of serving others. “I just had to get away.” I tell him about the interview and grow furious all over again.

“I understand. It can be quite a shock coming here for the first time.” He cracks a smile that only tilts one corner of his mouth. “Look, I’m on my way to get some lunch, would you like me to pick some up for you?”

I see myself alone in my room, the walls closing in. “Can I eat with you?” I blurt, heat rushing to my face. “I mean, not if you’re busy, but…”

Will raises his eyebrows. Curiosity sparks in his eyes, and they seem to glow in the dim light. “Of course. That would be fine with me, if that’s what you wish.”

“Never mind, it’s all right. I’m just…” I blurt out the truth, “I’ve been alone too much.”
Are you serious, Mira? You don’t even really know this guy. Why did you say that?
I dip my head, blinking away frustrated tears. I hate feeling weak, needy like this.

Will steps closer to me, and his fingers graze the bottom of my chin, tilting up my head. The warmth, the shock of his touch, make me catch my breath. His voice lowers into a whisper. “I thought you liked the solitude?” I can feel the heat of his body standing so close to mine, and he smells like the minty green you’d find picking certain herbs in the forest.

“M-mostly, yes,” I whisper and try to catch my breath. His fingers linger on my skin then he releases me and steps back. I feel the loss immediately and shiver. “It’s just that… I’m not used to eating alone. At the farm, there are people everywhere, and I used to go to the forest or the playground to escape in the evenings sometimes, but we always ate together.”

“If you’d like to eat with us, I’m sure it’ll be all right. We have a specific cafeteria for our use. We just need to inform your guard, if he’s there, about our plans.”
Is he giving me a chance to back out? Should I?

“Okay.”
What am I getting myself into?

Will offers me his elbow, which I take, tentatively, not because I need the support, but because a part of me, an evil selfish part, wants to feel his touch again. And a different part pipes up.
Why didn’t you feel the same with Tanner? What’s wrong with you?