First (24 page)

“Mira…” Tanner pants, holding his side as if the simple act of breathing is agony and pulls me aside, taking me stiffly into his arms. I feel Will’s eyes bore into me, and I force myself not to break away from Tanner’s embrace. “I missed you so, so much. The whole time I was in prison, I thought of you.” He squeezes me tightly. “You believe me now, don’t you? You know what I was trying to do before those soldiers came. It was never supposed to end like that.”

I lightly trace my fingers down the bruises on his face and the slashing cut. He winces, and I jerk my hand back. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

He laughs, a harsh, angry sound. “I’ll live.”

I wince. “The soldiers did this to you?”

“No, I fell down the stairs.”

Never having heard this sarcastic edge to him before, I step back, unsure.

He smirks. “They
re-educated
me.”

“But they sent you back. They killed Mr. Flannigan. Why are you—?”

“Still here? Circumstantial evidence at best. Personally, I think it’s because killing a farmer doesn’t have nearly the impact as killing someone well-known in Washington as a teacher for Seconds. I’m nothing compared to him.”

“I… I’m sorry.” I shiver.

Tanner shakes his head. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine as long as I don’t try to leave the farm.”

“Why can’t you leave?”

He pulls up his left sleeve and reveals a small silver bracelet, similar to the one Will stole from Socrates, but so tight it looks like it’s melted into his skin. A red light blinks on the top. I reach out to touch it. My fingers graze its sleek surface. Although it looks cold, it’s the same temperature as his body, and when I try to put my fingers around it, I can’t. He flinches, and I can feel a jolt of something pass through his body. “Don’t. It’s no good. It’s fused to my skin.”

I look up at him. “What is it?”

“It’s the latest fashion accessory for the criminally charged. Well, more like a warning. Be a good little Texan, and no one gets hurt.”

“Is it a bomb?”

“No, thank goodness. But I was told it’s a perimeter tracker and contains a healthy dose of neurotoxin to boot, so if I try to leave the farm, even one step outside the boundaries, I’m dead.” He stares at his portable prison, and the tired loathing in his eyes make me want to take him in my arms, hold him like he held me so many times before. But I don’t. I can’t.

I fold my arms around myself instead and rub my arms in an attempt to stop shivering. “This is crazy. How can they do this?”

“Who’s going to stop them? Call it what you will. They’re in charge of enforcing the laws. Trust me. It didn’t turn out the way they wanted for them, either.”

“What do you mean?”

“They couldn’t find any real link to the rebels, or I wouldn’t be here.” Tanner rubs my arms with his hands, up and down. “It’s you I’m worried about. I wish I could help you, but I can’t.” He gestures at the bracelet. “I’m kinda stuck here.”

I try to summon up a smile, to assure him that it’s okay. “I’ll be all right.”

“No.” His voice is anguished. “I don’t think you will. The guards, they told me saving you didn’t matter, that you were dead anyway. I didn’t believe them but…” He takes a deep breath. “But I don’t know what to believe anymore.” An angry, frustrated look crosses Tanner’s face, and from the corner of my eye, I see Will take a step forward.

“Tanner, listen to me, please. Socrates is a good person. Well, sort of. He’s changed the world, and will do more for our people than I ever will. He will—”

“Stop. I don’t want to hear any more bullshit propaganda about how wonderful that man is. I can’t take it anymore.” He turns away from me, and I put my hand up to stop him.

“Let me finish, all right?” I take a deep breath. “What I was going to say was that I changed my mind.” The barest hint of relief flashes through his gaze, but it’s quickly masked by suspicion, like he doesn’t really believe me. Or maybe he’s afraid to. “I couldn’t tell you before, but…” The words come out in a rush. “… I decided I’m not going through with it. As soon as we get back to the Smith, I’m going to tell Socrates I want out.” The huge grin on his face must mirror my own. “I’m going to live, Tanner.”

“Mira, are you serious?” I nod, and a wide grin stretches his face. “I knew you’d come around!” And before I can stop him, he pulls me tight into his arms, and his lips crush mine. His mouth opens, and I can feel his tongue pressing against the seam of my lips.
I can’t do this.
“Tanner, stop.” I try to say, but I’m speaking into his mouth, and he’s not listening. I wedge my hands up so they’re against his chest and push. Hard. After a second he backs away, eyes heavy, breathing ragged.

“Mira. I’m sorry. I… I can’t... I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s… okay,” I try to smile. “Just don’t let it happen again.”

Just as quickly as the passion came over him, sadness follows. “It was never me, was it?”

What does a girl say to that?
No, I never loved you?
Or
eww, kissing you is like kissing my brother?
No, both are way too harsh. I try to answer him, but he smiles instead and pecks a kiss on my forehead.

“It’s okay. I-I guess I’ve known for a while now. I thought, well, I thought after we got married it would be different. That you liked me well enough and we could make it work. I love you, Mira. I always have.”

“I love you too, Tan. It’s just—”

“I get it. Don’t worry. You don’t have to explain anything.”

“No, listen to me. I do love you, but yes, it’s like a brother. I know I could have a great life with you, but I can’t come back here. After I tell Socrates my decision, well, there’s no turning back. I don’t know what’s going to happen.” Sure, I’ll be banished, but my real mom was exiled, too, right? She might have survived if she’d not taken her own life. I’m stronger than that. I have to survive. For myself, for Max, for my sister who never should have died in the first place.

“You’re right, but that doesn’t mean you have to go into hiding. So many people are watching you, what you do, what you say. You could do so much for the world.” He fists his left hand and slams it into his right. “And here I am, stuck at the farm. Completely useless.” My eyes are glued to that little blinking light. He opens his fist then closes it again, the metal bands loosening and constricting with his movements. “You’re better off with him.” He nods behind me, and I turn to see Will, walking toward me.

“But I’m not—”

“Mira, are you ready?” Will asks quietly. His eyes never leave Tanner.

I glance at Tanner. His jaw is set and his eyes flinty. “Yeah, I guess so.” Will offers me his arm, and I take it. About halfway back to Socrates, I turn my head, trying to get one last glimpse of Tanner, but he’s gone. The barnyard is empty, vacant.

“Did you get the goodbye you wanted?” Socrates asks, one hand on his cane, the other buried in Ben’s ruff.

Rosie’s cross flashes before my eyes. “Would you mind if we stop at one more place?”

“Sure, that’s not a problem.”

I lead them across the lawn to the edge of the forest, Will constantly scanning from side to side. Maybe he thinks it’s dangerous to be so close to the edge. I guess I can see his point, even though I’ve never felt safer.

When we get to the playground, I let out a deep breath. There is a sea of new little crosses sunk into the ground where the guards’ heavy boots trampled them. The dolls and toys have been put back in the right spots, and if I didn’t know better, I would never have believed that just days ago this area had been littered with the little matchsticks and overturned teddy bears.

“What is this place?” Socrates asks. His voice is low. Even he recognizes how special this place is.

“It’s our playground.”

When I don’t say any more, he snorts, disgusted at my lack of explanation. “I can see that, but where are the children?”

“They’re all around us. Can’t you see them?” I gesture with my hands. “They’re everywhere.”

“Ben, stay.” The dog whines, but sits and waits at the edge of the field. Will follows us, which is probably for the best, though a part of me wants him to stay away, as if I’m still not ready to show him this part of me. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe sharing who I am, who I was, will help the little ghosts sleep.

We wind our way through the tiny memorials, careful not to knock any over. Even Ben seems reverent. He stays where he was told and doesn’t sniff at any of them or do what other dogs do. I stop at Rosie’s little cross. Someone has put a fresh bouquet of wildflowers at the base, and I finger one of the blooms.

“What happened to them?” He reaches out, fingering the dress on an ancient doll, the cloth no longer blue but a pale gray.

“Accidents, wild animals, disease. Some of them just disappeared.” I close my eyes.
I’m sorry, Rosie.

“Who is this?”

“My sister, Rosie.”

Socrates’s hand tenses on the head of his cane. “Did she get sick?”

“No. She was one of the ones who disappeared.”

“How could that happen? Wasn’t anyone supposed to watch her?”

I crush one of the tiny blooms between my fingers. “Yeah, me.”

Silence. “My apologies. No one has any idea what happened to her?”

“Oh, I know what happened, all right.” I can’t keep the bitterness from my voice. I don’t care about the promise I made to my mom. I don’t care about my decision not to be his Second. None of that matters. Nothing matters except that the truth gets out about a little girl who disappeared into the forest and never returned.

“What?”

“Your precious program is what happened to her. There was a First scheduled to come to our farm. He wanted a young girl who looked like Rosie. I guess he likes to raise them himself before the Release. She was just a baby.”
Should I be telling him this? What if he reports us?
What would happen to Max then? A cold knot forms in my throat, and my shoulders tense.

“So your parents sent her out in the forest to die?”

“No. Don’t you get it? They sent her out there to
live
. Sure, they didn’t know what exactly would happen if that First chose her, but my parents didn’t want to take the chance. They didn’t want this life for her.” I gesture at myself, then at him. “They thought a chance, even one as slim as running and hopefully finding help, would be better than…” I look away while I’m talking, embarrassed, as though I’m betraying him somehow by laying my thoughts, my feelings all out there.
You don’t owe him anything,
a little voice snips in my head.
Look at all he’s taking away. If anything, he owes you.

“Did she make it?”

I laugh. “I have no idea. I was supposed to go with her, make sure she got picked up, though I didn’t know it at the time.”

“I’m so sorry.”

I look down at the little cross again, tracing the edge of the wooden arms with my fingers. “Me, too.”

“So why did you agree to become my Second?”
Do I tell him now?
Right here in the midst of all these crosses, all these memorials? What would he do, just leave me here? Thinking of facing my mother again, I gulp. No, I can’t tell him here. Best to go with the original plan and tell him when we get back to the Smith.

“At first, it was because I was supposed to. Now? I’m doing it for Rosie, for my brother, Max, and for all those kids who won’t have to stand in a line ever again as soon as that bill passes. Who won’t have to worry about being chosen, leaving their families, and being forced into this
great destiny
. My hope is that I’m the last kid who has to die so that your people can live forever.”

“You sound very knowledgeable about the Free America Act. I thought you didn’t know much about it?”

“I know enough. Look, does it really matter?” I put my hands on my knees and stand up, feeling old, maybe as old as Socrates.

“No. I don’t suppose it does.”

I glance at him as the sun hits the horizon. The glowing golden light casts deep shadows across his face. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, are you?”

I nod. “Let’s get out of here.”

Socrates stands up, weaving back and forth, and takes a step. Before his foot can reach the ground, his eyes roll back in his head and he topples to the ground, violently shaking. Ben races over, whining, and yips, pawing at Socrates. I roll him over on his back, feeling for a pulse.

“Socrates? Are you there?”

Footsteps pound toward me as Will leaps forward, pushing me aside, crouches down, and feels for his pulse. “He’s alive, barely.” He taps a button on his com unit and speaks rapidly. “Code eleven nineteen at Chesaning. I repeat, code eleven nineteen.”

“I’m Not Ready.”

Socrates

I
t’s dark inside me. Outside
me. All around me. I can’t see it because my eyes won’t work, but I feel everything. I can’t open my eyes for the life of me. It’s just too hard, too much. God, Ellie, where are you?

Voices enter the room. A doctor? More than one? I don’t recognize any of the voices, and they’re talking too low for me to catch more than a couple of words.

“Progressing much faster than we thought…” This voice is deep, masculine, but I can’t place it. Not one of my regular doctors.

“Not much time left…” This one is feminine, gentler, younger.

“How could we have missed it?”
Is he a doctor?
He must be, otherwise he wouldn’t be in here.

Hey, I’m still here! I hear you!

“Move the transfer up,” the male doctor says. The female says something else, but I can’t catch it. She speaks too low for me, and her words slip through my mind like smoke. “No, I don’t care if he wants it or not. He’ll die without it.”

No! I’m not ready yet. Ellie? Are you there? Ellie! I need you
! I try to gather all my strength, all my will, to merely open my eyes, move a finger, but nothing works, and the barest of efforts exhausts me. I slip away, back into the soothing, relaxing darkness.

“Dad?”
A small voice rises from the darkness, and I feel myself chasing after it.

“Adam? Is that you?”

“Dad, what are you doing? You’re going to kill her, Dad. Please don’t do this!”

“Adam! Oh my God, Son, I haven’t heard your voice in so long. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Don’t do it, Dad.”

“Adam? Where are you?”

“Please, Dad, don’t do this again.”

“Adam? Adam!”
His voice fades away, but the other people move closer.

“How are his vital signs?” One of the doctors taps on the panel next to my bed that controls the monitor built into the bed. I’ve seen enough of the insides of hospitals to know that they monitor all of your vital signs without touching your body.

“Stable, for now, but there’s no telling how long that’ll last.”

“What should we do?”

The two voices pause. “Move up the transfer, like I said. We have to, otherwise he will die.”

“What about the Release Ceremony?”

“Skip it. He’s too weak. It’s unfortunate, but it can’t be helped.” I sense the two checking me over one final time. “It’s a pity,” the man says. “He’s done so much. To be brought down like this.”

“We’re not going to let him die,” the woman says. “Don’t talk like that. We’ll move the procedure up, the transfer will go smoothly, and everything will be fine. He just doesn’t have the six months he thought he did. That’s all.”

The other doctor sighs. “You’re right. It’ll all work out in the end.”

A minute later, their steps fade away, and I’m left alone with my thoughts again, slowly swirling into the blackness that is my mind, searching for my son’s voice, when hesitant, lighter footsteps enter the room.

“Socrates?” Mira whispers. “Are you in here?”

Yes, yes, my girl. I’m here,
I say, in my head, of course, because nothing else works.

“I… I heard the doctors.” Her voice is apologetic, as if she feels guilty for something. “They said you don’t have much time left.”

Tell me something I don’t know.

“This… this changes everything,” she murmurs, and I listen as she walks over to the chair on the other side of my bed and sits down. “I… I was going to back out.” Her voice is so low, so quiet, I almost miss it. She sniffles, and I imagine tears filling her eyes.

“I was going to ask you if I could back out, change my mind, and go home, even though I’d be banished. I…” Her voice cracks, and a sob breaks through. “I want to live. I don’t want to die. I… I even promised my brother that I’d go back for him. That I wouldn’t leave him again. I decided when I was at the farm that I wanted to get out, be free, let you find another Second. But… but now there’s no time, is there?” She trails off into silence and sits there, thinking. It goes on so long I almost forget her and fall away, deeper into myself.

“But I can’t be afraid.” Her words are stronger now, more assured, as if she’s made a decision. “There’s no one else who can do this. No one else who can take my place. I… I have to.”

No, you don’t!
I try to shout, but once again, the words refuse to leave my parched lips. I’m trapped in my own body.
You don’t have to do this, girl, you can still go home.

As if hearing my voice, she continues. “I can’t go home. If I’m the only person who can help you get that Act passed to free my brother and all the other Texans, then I’ll do it. I’m done being a coward. I’ll be your Second.”