Memory Girl (37 page)

I'm impatient to leave, but my Milly memories warn me to be cautious. I rise from my bed and pick up the hair frivels Lorelei crafted for my birthday gift. My fingers trail along the velvety bows, and I think how no other ShareHaven youth has ever had a birthday celebraze. Lila has done so much for me, bringing my friends here, my party, and the picnic by the sea. I'll show her how much I appreciate her kindness by becoming the best scientist ever. Even if Marcus and Lorelei clear my name, I won't join a Family. My future is here with Lila.

Slipping on socks and shoes, I cross the room. My hand is poised on the knob when I hear a sound. Shuffling from beneath my bed—like a snake or swizard or … Petal!

I rush toward my bed, then draw back with a gasp.

A dark shape rises from the floor.

Nate.

“Hi, Jennza.” Nate brushes dust from his shirt and stretches his arms and legs. “I thought your friends would never leave.”

My mouth hangs open. Although he wears the stiff gray uniform of a droll, his blue eyes shine with so much life there's no mistaking him for a mindless slave. I hardly know which of the questions spinning in my head to ask him first.

“Why … why were you under my bed?”

“Not the best hiding place. So dusty I had to pinch my nose to stop from sneezing. Cramped too. My leg fell asleep.” He smacks his foot on the floor.

“Why did I go to all the trouble to help you escape if you're brain-lacking enough to come back?”

“I had to see you.”

His words tug at my stomach in a not-unpleasant way and heat rushes through me. Being so close to him, I'm dizzy with feelings I don't understand. I want to be angry, yet I'm thrilled to see him again. He's risking his life, I remind myself. If he's caught, I won't be able to rescue him.

Yet he came to see me, and I'm smiling.

“They'll execute you if you're caught.” I try to sound angry.

“It's worth the risk to speak to you again,” he says. “I like the sound of your words, how they rise and fall soft like
calm waters on the beach.”

I like his sounds too, and I admire the contrast of his dark brows over his blue eyes and how his mouth curves into dimples. His face is so unlike those of my born-mates—rough, pale, with faint, paler lines of scars—a jagged line on the side of his nose and a deeper line along the curve of his left cheekbone. It's as if his face is a map of a life very different from my own.

“Happy birthday,” he says, sitting on the edge of my bed. He gestures to the boxes piled on my dresser. “Sorry to miss the party, but I wasn't invited. Still, I can give you a gift.”

“It's not really my birthday.”

“Would you like this?” He reaches beneath the heavy droll robe and withdraws a folded paper—retro paper, yellowed and sturdy. He unfolds the single sheet, then hands it to me. “It's only a copy I drew to find my way here. I have no further use for this, but you might find it interesting.”

I look down, marveling at black lines spreading across the paper like the dark veins of age on Grandmother's arms. The oblong dark mass of land surrounded by curvy lines of waves is our island. A map, I realize, recognizing the tiny symbols for rivers, trees, low and high lands. Only it's unlike the maps I saw in the Edu-Center, showing not only ShareHaven but the whole island. I look beyond the Gate where Nate escaped, following a line running beneath the ground to an arch symbol with a word:
Home.

“Is this where you live?” I lift my eyes to meet his and he nods.

“Far different than your sunlit room,” he says, shrugging. “But it's safe.”

His tone hints at pride, and I understand that he loves
his home, even though it's beneath the ground. By giving me this hand-drawn map, he's sharing a piece of himself.

“Thank you,” I say softly. “I'll treasure it.”

He shrugs. “It's only a rough drawing. Map-making is what I do, and I find even crude sketches like this useful in finding my way without waking sleeping beasts or being shot by your Uniforms.”

“How long have you been hiding here?” I ask, amazed he not only entered the most protected, secret place in ShareHaven but found my room.

He glances at the sky through the half-open curtains. “Three hours.”

“How did you get here?”

“By boat, foot, and hoxen.”

“You rode a hoxen?”

He grins. “Borrowed one.”

I start to argue that hoxen were genetically engineered to pull carts, not for riding, when I get a memory of galloping bareback across a field. I'm riding a sleek, dusky-brown horse while my sister Rosemarie trails far behind on a gentle mare named Buttercup. “Slow down!” she shouts, but I pretend not to hear. With a nudge of my boots, Rebel, the half quarter horse, half Arabian speeds ahead, kicking up tufts of grass as if racing against the wind.

Horses don't exist, at least not in ShareHaven. I'll never see one of these retro-creatures, yet I have memories of riding them since I-she-we were a child. I jumped barrels competitively and won beautiful ribbons and trophies. I hear applause, smell the ripe odor of hay and manure, and caress silky horse hair. Milly isn't sweet or obedient when astride a spirited horse—she's in control and confident. We hold firm
to the reins, head high, heart racing with each hoofbeat.

“I wasn't sure I could stay on a hoxen,” Nate is saying. “After the fifth time he threw me off, I figured out how to grab the mane and hang on tight. I stayed off roads and out of sight since I'm not in a mood to die today.” His words should be heavy with fear, yet he's grinning.

“How did you get into my room without being seen?” I ask, worry twisting inside me.

“I found this hanging up on a wall hook.” He plucks at the fabric of his droll robe. “It hides my clothes, and no one looks in the faces of the zombie-workers.”

“Drolls. They're called drolls.”

“They don't blink. That was the hardest part, trying not to blink.” He smooths his hair back so it's similar to the male drolls, except for a curl that waves around his ear. “Are they human?”

“They used to be,” I say sadly.

I think of the droll I saw on the first day—Carlos. I'm sure he's the Cross Family's last youth—and I almost ended up like him. I haven't seen him since Frost zapped him with her electricity gun.

“How did you find my room?” I ask Nate.

“Snuck inside your friends' cart,” he says, moving to the window and glancing through the curtains at a view of sky and wild grasses. “I've been hiding outside for two days, watching and waiting. I found the hidden entrance but didn't know how to get inside until the cart stopped at the door. When the driver pushed a button that opened the door, I jumped into the back and hid beneath a blanket.”

I wag my finger at him. “You could have been killed.”

“If I had, would you mourn for me?” He raises his brows
teasingly.

“Don't be demental.” I try to sound angry.

“You must care a little. You broke me out of jail.”

“Something I'm starting to regret.” I cross to the window and shut the curtains. Doesn't he realize the need for caution? What if someone saw him?

“Admit you're glad to see me again,” he says.

“Stop talking nonsense, or I'll kill you myself.”

“Nah, you don't have it in you. But I could teach you how to fight.” He raises his hands into fists, playfully punching the air. “I've spent years practicing combat, weaponry, and hunting.”

I shake my head. “I have no cause for fighting.”

“Are you sure?” he challenges. “The world outside is dangerous.”

“But for you it's more dangerous inside our Fence. Do you wish to be executed? Leave before someone sees you.”

“Not until I get what I came for.”

“What?” I glance away, picking up a small unwrapped box and plucking at its green bow. I thought he'd come to see me.

“Medicine.” He sucks in a sharp breath. “I can't sit by and do nothing while people I care about die.”

“You came to steal from the scientists?”

“I'll do whatever I need to.” His lips press with determination.

“Too dangerous,” I warn. “You can fool the drools with your disguise but not the scientists. How will you get into the lab?”

“The same way I broke out of the jail.” He reaches beneath the droll covering, then pulls out a small green bottle
and rubber strips.

I remember how the green liquid exploded rubber strips into fire that destroyed steel bars. Still, I shake my head. “Lab doors are larger than the jail's window. You'll never get into the lab.”

“I could with your help.”

“I can't betray Lila's trust—not after everything she's done for me.” Green ribbon rips beneath my fingers.

“I understand,” he says, but I can tell I've disappointed him. He jumps to his feet. “I'll find it on my own.”

“And die before you reach the third floor.” I toss the ripped bow aside and move quickly to block his way to the door.

“Better than watch my father die from a snake bite,” he blurts out.

“A viper got him?” Shuddering, I sink beside him on the bed.

“The monsters grow in unnatural numbers, and they're harder to kill.”

“But you told me his mapping skills kept him out of battles.”

“While I was imprisoned, my father went into battle to prove he could still fight even though he's quite old.”

“How aged is he?” I ask sympathetically.

“Thirty-six.” His eyes shine with tears, and this touches me deeply. The trained killer, who showed no emotion when he was hours from execution, cries for his dying father.

“I'll ask Lila for the medicine you need,” I say.

“As if a scientist would help a Nocturne,” he scoffs.

“She's very kind, and I'm sure she'll help you.” I think of the map he showed me, where squiggles of lines are all that
separate our communities. We share the same island and shouldn't be enemies.

“Topsiders put up the Fence because they want us dead.”

“No, it was only to protect us after the Attack. But it's wrong for us to be safe while you're forced underground,” I say with rising anger. “The Fence shouldn't divide life and death. If we all worked together, we could destroy the snakes and claws.”

“Topsiders would rather the monsters live and we die,” he says bitterly. “They blame us for the actions of our ancestors.”

“What do you mean?” I knit my brows.

“Have you wondered how we came to live outside your Fence?” When I shake my head, he continues, “Many of our ancestors were fishermen living here peacefully long before scientists divided the island. But we're also descendants of soldiers from the militia group that attacked ShareHaven. After the Attack, the ones who were too injured to escape by boat survived in the woods. They joined with the fishermen when claws and snakes forced them to go underground.”

“You're descended from our attackers?” I step back from him.

A wary look crosses his face. “Does it make a difference to you?”

“No,” I say without hesitation. “And if people in ShareHaven could know you, they wouldn't be afraid. My born-mates Lorelei and Marcus would like you.”

“The boy who lost Petal?”

I wince. “You overheard that?”

“Hard not to hear when I'm squished under here.” He pats the bed. “If you'd asked me to protect Petal, I would
have died before allowing someone to take her away.”

“Marcus will search until he finds her.” As I say this, I realize it's true, and I wish I could take back the harsh things I said to Marcus. “You must have also heard that my friends are trying to clear my name so I can be part of ShareHaven again. They never stopped caring about me.”

“Like a family.” Pain crosses his face. “My father will die soon without medicine. If he lives, he'll do great things for my people. He mapped the route to a new tunnel that contains ancient tools and electronics from when the tunnels were part of a military station. These devices have already led to communication with the outside world.”

“What outside world? The mind-plague destroyed everything. There's nothing civilized beyond our island. The mind-plague devastated the world.”

“Centuries ago,” Nate says. “My father knows civilizations exist because he got one of the old machines he found to work briefly—he says it was called a computer—and he heard voices in another language. He's hopeful that if he can make contact again we'll be rescued from this island.”

“Rescue?” I ask, confused. “But this is our home.”

“Only for those free to live in the sunshine like you,” he says bitterly. “Monsters will keep killing us until we're gone.”

I shudder. “Isn't there any way to destroy them?”

“We kill them every night, but they just keep coming back. Unless we can kill all of them, our only hope is to leave this island. My father can help—if he survives. I need that medicine to save him. Will you show me how to find it?”