Memory Girl

Memory Girl

Text Copyright © 2016 by Linda Joy Singleton

Cover Image Copyright © Shutterstock/pikselstock

Ripped Image Copyright © Shutterstock/pzAxe

Interior Needle Image Copyright © Shutterstock/Viktorija Reuta

Texture Image for Interior Titles Copyright © Shutterstock/Ollyy

All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without express permission of the copyright holder.

For more information, write:

CBAY Books

PO Box 670296

Dallas, TX 75367

Children's Brains are Yummy Books

Dallas, Texas

www.cbaybooks.com

Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-944821-08-1

ebook ISBN: 978-1-944821-09-8

Kindle ISBN: 978-1-944821-10-4

PDF ISBN: 978-1-944821-11-1

Printed in the United States of America

From idea to published book, MEMORY GIRL has been a long journey that began nearly a decade ago. I wish to thank my family, Danna Smith, Linda Whalen, Verla Kay, my critique group and other supportive friends who never stopped believing that this book would be published.

Also, an infinity of thanks to Madeline Smoot, a good friend and amazing editor who is sharing this journey with me.

“Natural selection, as it has operated in human history, favors not only the clever but the murderous.”

—Barbara Ehrenreich

“Get down, Jennza—or you'll die!”

“Don't be dramatic,” I call out to Lorelei, my fingers curling around steel mesh as I dangle midway up the Fence. “No one dies anymore.”

Lorelei flips her raven-black braid over her shoulder while glaring at me. “Some do. If they're not cautious.”

“I'm never cautious and look! I'm nearly touching the sky.” My words sail on salty breezes, challenging the world to strike me down. Nothing happens, of course. Dying is so retro-century. I laugh and turn away from Lorelei, not wanting to waste a second of my last freedom. It's her last day too, so you'd think she'd understand. Guess not.

I swat aside a loose spiral of my too-curly brown hair as I look up. Only four more handholds to the top, which is strung with barbed wire to keep out the dangers roaming the rocky shore cliffs. I've never seen any dangers—only a sparkling sea spilling beyond the sky with mysterious possibilities. The view is amazing, breathtaking, and completely forbidden.

“Lor, you can see forever up here,” I call down. “Climb up.”

“Are you crazed? I have no wish to crack my bones.” She folds her arms across her chest, rattling the tiny sand-shells she's sewn on her tunic sleeves. “Why must you keep ripping rules? Don't you think I notice when you sneak out? I never
tell the Instructors, but I worry until you return.”

“You worry too much.”

“And you don't worry—ever! If you won't listen to me, talk to him!” She points to a lanky figure coming up the cliff path. It's only Marcus, his fawn-brown hair shining with streaks of sun, his attention focused on something dark and wiggly cupped in his hand.

Lorelei stomps over to Marcus, then points toward me. “Marcus, tell her to get down, or she'll fall and break her neck.”

“Get down, Jennz,” Marcus says in a distracted tone, his hair sweeping across his forehead as he studies the crawly in his palm.

“Heya, Marc!” Balancing carefully, high over my born-mates, I cling to steel mesh with one hand and wave with the other. “What are you holding?”

“A hybrid of lizard.” He taps the squirming creature in his hand. “Its back is smooth with fish scales, not rough like the lizards I typically find.”

I could tell him where there are more scaled lizards (I call them “swizards” because they swim). But telling Marcus would lead to questions I don't want to answer. After the Celebraze today, there won't be much left that's completely my own, so I hold tight to my secret.

“Where'd you find it?” Steel presses hard lines into my back as I lean against the Fence.

“On a decaying log.”

“Put him in water. Soon.”

“Why?”

“So he'll survive.”

Marcus lifts his hand over his eyes to shield the rising sun as he gazes up curiously. “How do you know?”

I am saved from answering by Lorelei, who turns on Marcus, knuckling her hand into a fist, her obsidian ring flashing like her dark, angry eyes. “Can you stay to the topic? Or don't you care that Jennza is over ten meters high?”

“She's no more than four meters,” he replies.

“But she shouldn't even be climbing the Fence! We should be studying the Name Books so we'll be prepared for our new names.”

“We're getting more than new names,” I say, that familiar tightness squeezing my chest. I've never confided to my friends how much I dread joining a Family—leaving everything I've known to become someone else. So much is changing. Too much! After tonight, I won't be allowed to call my friends by their youth names, and no one will ever call me Jennza again.

“Finally our lives are beginning.” Lorelei's anger melts into a dreamy smile. “Since learning of memdenity I've wondered who I'll become. Today I'll find out.”

“I already know who I'll be,” Marcus says with a shrug.

“Don't be demental,” Lorelei scoffs. “You can't know which Family will Choose you.”

“Oh, I'm sure.”

“How?” Lorelei asks.

Marcus runs his finger along the swizard's scaly spine, his cheeks reddening. “I—I visited them.”

Lorelei's mouth falls open, speechless, which would amuse me if I weren't also stunned. She doesn't ask which Family; that would be completely against the rules. Even I won't ask, but I can guess because, well, I know Marcus. He's fascinated with farming, bees and gardens, and while most Families grow their own crops and gardens, only the
Sarwalds raise bees.

Who allowed this unusual visit
? I wonder. Not our Instructors, surely, as they are rigid about rules. Was it the Sarwald Family leader? As Grand Leader in ShareHaven, no one holds a higher regard in the community than Grand Sarwald—except the scientists who gave us immortality.

“You're both ripping impossible.” Lorelei stomps over to the trail, then turns back to me. “Jennza, I refuse to cover for you this time. Get down now!”

Instead, I climb up. Steadying myself on a steel post, I duck my head to avoid razor-sharp barbed wire that stretches endlessly in both directions. This should be an impossible barrier to cross but I know the flaw. The wire above me snapped two years ago, and instead of the usual repair, someone twisted it back together for quick escapes.

I was that someone.

Beyond the Fence a steep cliff trail winds through boulders and dense brush down to the shore. I inhale a deep breath of sea and courage. I've been doing this for two years, but it's still tricky—throwing one leg like a hook, heaving myself close to the razor-barbs, clinging to a post with one hand while I untwist wires into a narrow gap of escape.

Fingers clutching wire mesh, I rear back with my leg, swing upward, and ….

Smack.

My leg smashes against steel.

Pain crashes through me. My hands slip and my arms flail.

Dizzily, I hear Lorelei yelling my name. A blur of movement below and she's rushing toward me. Marcus drops the swizard, following. Lorelei reaches the Fence first, her arms
lifted, with no doubt that she's strong enough to catch me.

But I don't fall. Sweat soaks my clothes and blood trickles from a jagged cut on my arm. Glancing down at Lorelei's pinched face, I swallow guilt. She cares about me, not only because we're born-mates but because we're friends.

“No worries. I'm okay,” I call down with apology in my voice.

“You're bleeding,” Lorelei accuses.

“Only a scratch.” I shift on my wire perch to hide my arm.

“It'll need curing ointment. Hurry down.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I can't explain where I'm going, just trust that it's important. Afterward, I'll join you for reading or studying or anything you want.”

“I want you to follow rules!” She throws up her arms. “By climbing the Fence, you're risking all Three Dangers.”

Marcus lifts his hand automatically, like every morning in Instruction when we recite the Safety Pledge. “Protect your body from the Three Dangers: head trauma, heart puncture, and drowning.”

Lorelei glares at me. “If you fall to your death, I'll never forgive you.”

I try not to laugh at her unlogic. My theory is that Instructors invented the Three Dangers to control us. My born-mates have no trouble avoiding danger, but Instructor Penny says I have a rare talent for rule breaking. I don't set out to break anything—I just find more interesting things to do. Like today during study session. While the others studied Name Books or planned Celebraze statements, I stare-dreamed out a window, imagining I was a storm gull soaring over the sea. Skimming foamy waves, air-dancing in salty
drizzles, feathers fluttering on gusty breezes. Without planning, I'd jumped from my work station and run outside. I knew the Instructors wouldn't object since it's our last day. But I didn't know Lorelei and Marcus would follow.

Marcus peers up at me, suspiciously. “Why
are
you up there, Jennz?”

“Why do you think?” Two years ago, I'd invited him to climb the Fence with me, excited to share my discoveries with the only person who would appreciate them. But he refused to break rules. I never asked him again.

“I think you should listen to Lorelei,” he says stubbornly. “Reaching fifteen comes with responsibilities.”

“I'll be responsible later.”

Marcus frowns. “Jennz, don't do this. Our days of youth-playing are over. Today is for growing-up.”

Wire bites my skin as I grip the Fence. “What if I don't want to grow up? I like who I am. I don't want to change.”

Marcus shakes his head, as if I've spoken in a language he's never heard before. “You're not being sensical.”