Variant (6 page)

As we walked close to where Havoc was gathered I tried to count them. Even in their gym clothes they looked like thugs. One girl sat on a fat stump, drawing an intricate pen tattoo onto another girl’s leg. Oakland was leaning against a long, thin rock that looked like it had been jammed vertically into the ground, and four of his friends sat around him. Unlike the rest of us, a few of the Havoc guys had ignored the rules and worn jackets.

“Are those against the dress code?” I asked, gesturing to hooded sweatshirts.

“Yep,” Mason said. “Maybe they’ll get dinged for it, but it’ll just be points.”

“Why are points a big deal?”

“Points are everything,” Lily said. I couldn’t tell whether she was being sarcastic or not.

Mouse jogged past us and slowed to a stop in the sculpture garden. Despite the cold, she had her T-shirt tied into a knot to show off her stomach, and I’d swear her already-short shorts were rolled at the waist. I know I wasn’t the only guy who noticed.

We passed Havoc and again faced the expanse of pine trees. A gust of wind blew past us, carrying tiny leaves and sticks with it, and making me shiver. The only trees nearby with any leaves were the cottonwoods by the road, but those had shed most of their foliage already. Autumn here wasn’t pretty.

“So,” I said, glancing around to make sure that no one else was nearby. “No one has answered my question. Has there ever been a serious escape attempt?”

Mason didn’t immediately say anything, so Lily spoke. “It depends on what you mean by serious. People have tried. From what I’ve been told, a lot of people used to try.”

“And no one has made it?”

“Not that we know of,” she said. “Most get caught in the act. Others we just hear about.”

“What stops them?” I asked. “Why can’t they just get over the wall and go?”

“It’s not easy to get over the wall,” Mason said simply. “And then you’ve got to get over that fence. And there are security cameras. And who knows what else.”

“I’m going to run one day,” Lily said. “Soon.”

I looked over at her. She was young and small, but there was something about her eyes that made me believe she might actually be able to. “What are you waiting for?”

She thought for a moment, her jaw set and forehead wrinkled. “I’ve never had a good time to do it. Too many Society freaks around all the time.”

“What if you went right now?” I asked. “Run into the forest and go?”

“I’m not that fast,” she said. She stared at the tree line and the tone of her voice made it sound like she might actually have been considering it. I watched her turn and look for the four-wheeler, which was stopped near the crowd of Society kids at the door. “I don’t know. What do you think, Mason? Would the Society chase us over the wall? Would they dare cross it?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t risk it.”

We walked in silence for a while. I wondered what the dangers actually were. I was pretty fast—could they catch me if I ran into the forest? I could run in one direction, hide, and then wait for the others to pass me. It couldn’t be that hard, could it? Of course, it shouldn’t be hard at all. Every single kid in that school should have agreed with me. If the Society simply refused to enforce the security rules, we’d be fine.

The wind picked up and I had to squint to keep bits of sand and leaves out of my eyes. It stung as it blew against my legs and arms, and I stopped walking so I could turn my back to it.

“I’m going to go check on the doors,” I said as the gust faded.

I jogged across the field, leaving Mason and Lily on the track.

It was dumb that they locked us out. I made a mental note to prop one of the doors open the next time we had to come outside. But that would probably be against some stupid rule, too.

I passed the crowd of waiting students and hopped up the front steps.

“It’s still locked,” someone said. I turned to see Becky, her hands rubbing her arms to stay warm. Her bare legs were speckled with goose bumps, as were mine.

“Hey,” I said. “You’re admin. Can’t you get them open?”

“I wish,” she said, her tour-guide personality shining brightly. “I really should be back there jogging.”

“Me too.”

She took a step toward me, inspecting my face. “I heard about last night. Sorry about the nose.”

I shrugged. “Things happen.”

Becky leaned forward and whispered, “I shouldn’t say this, but Oakland was in the infirmary this morning. I think you might have cracked his rib.”

I couldn’t help a smile from breaking across my face, and it spread to hers. “Am I going to get in trouble for it?”

She shook her head. “Probably not. The V’s might lose a few points, but if it was anything serious it would have been announced this morning. I’d watch out for Oakland, though.”

“Okay.” I looked back at where Mason and Lily were waiting on the track. “Well, I might be in the infirmary tomorrow if these doors don’t open soon.”

She nodded and rubbed her crossed arms with her hands. “Me too.”

Becky moved back to her friends and I trotted across the grass to the track. Mason and Lily started walking again before I even got to them.

“Is she still trying to recruit you?” Lily asked when I reached them.

“Becky? No, just talking.”

“They’re all like that, you know,” she continued. “Becky, Laura, all the Society girls. Sweet as pie, and fake as Mouse’s boobs.”

Mason snickered.

“Becky seems nice enough,” I said.

Lily pulled her arms inside her T-shirt. “Yeah, Becky’s nice. And she’d send you to the gas chamber if the school told her to.”

Mason laughed. “That’s an exaggeration.”

“Says you,” Lily said. “And the guys in the Society are worse—arrogant and holier-than-thou. They’ve turned obedience into a sport.”

Just then the bell rang, and we immediately turned and ran back toward the school. But as we got closer, it was obvious there was a problem. No one was going inside. The doors were still locked.

Lily swore and turned away, looking at the forest.

“They do this, too,” Mason said to me, his voice a little more serious than usual. “The school, I mean. Sometimes the doors are locked. Sometimes the power goes out. Sometimes there’s no food.”

A voice was shouting over the crowd, and I turned to see Isaiah standing on the steps trying to get everyone’s attention. “The doors appear to be locked. I’m sure that this is just a malfunction in the mechanism.”

The other gangs booed him. The Society was mostly quiet, though it was obvious that they weren’t happy, either.

I turned to Mason. “Is it really a malfunction? Maybe the power is out or something, so the doors can’t read our chips.”

“I doubt it. I swear it’s another of their stupid tests.”

“Could it be punishment?” I spun, looking for Curtis and Carrie. They were still sitting on the grass, their T-shirts stained with dirt and sweat.

“Maybe,” Mason said. “But I bet they’re just screwing with our heads.”

I gazed out at the western horizon. The sun was dipping behind a distant mountain. “You know how I said that I should be liking this place?”

He gave a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah.”

“I do not want to spend the next month or year or who knows how long in some crappy experiment.”

He nodded, watching the doors. “There aren’t even security cameras outside. If it’s an experiment, then what are they watching?”

“There aren’t?”
Why hadn’t someone mentioned this before?
“Maybe they’re hidden?”

“Could be. People out here still act like there are cameras. Of course, the Society will rat us out, cameras or not.”

I nodded, not thinking about the doors anymore. “I’ll talk to you later, Mason.”

Jogging, I headed back to the track where a few of the students were still trying to keep warm. I got onto the track, surveying the edges of the forest, noting areas where the trees were closest.

I did two more laps, finding new energy as I psyched myself up. I watched the mass of students near the door—most of them were huddled together to stay warm, and no one seemed to be looking at me. As I started the third lap, I veered off the track running for the forest.

It was almost instantly warmer there, out of the wind, but I didn’t slow down. I sprinted over the rough, rocky ground, bobbing between the trees and around fallen logs. It was getting darker, and I slowed enough to pick a good path. I didn’t want to fall and ruin my chance for escape.

My chest was burning as I pushed myself to keep jogging. From the drive in, I guessed that it was about a mile from the school to the wall, and maybe another half mile to the fence. Then again, there was no way of knowing whether it formed a perfect circle around the school. Maybe the wall encompassed other things, too?

I could hear the revving engine of a four-wheeler somewhere behind me. This was it. Trying to escape was one of the big rules. It meant detention.

I was gasping for air by the time I reached the wall. But there was no way to climb it. Twelve feet up, solid brick.

I tried finding a foothold, but it was smooth, the mortar coming out to the edge of the bricks. There were no gaps for my fingers or shoes to grab on to.

The engine was getting close. And I thought I heard a second—or were there three?

I stared, silent and desperate. Fifty yards to my left a fat raccoon sat on the wall, nervously eyeing me in the twilight.

How did you get up there?

Turning my attention to the trees, I looked for one that I could climb—maybe I could get over that way. But someone had planned for that: Between the wall and the nearest trees was a fifteen-foot gap where the vegetation and rocks had been cleared away, leaving only barren dirt. The narrow tire tracks of the four-wheelers were rutted into the earth.

There had to be some way. I climbed up into the closest pine, slowly grappling with the sticky, sap-speckled limbs. It was difficult in the low light, but in a few minutes I got high enough to see over the wall. There was nothing on the other side but more trees.

I could hear the engine below me now—not just the engine but the rough sound of tires crunching over rocks and dry sticks. I didn’t waste time looking for it.

I climbed higher, now almost thirty feet in the air. There was no way I could jump. Even if I miraculously made it over the wall, I’d have broken legs or ankles. And there was still a chain-link fence somewhere on the other side.

The engine suddenly quieted, dropping down into a low, rumbling idle.

“Benson!” The voice was harsh and angry. I didn’t recognize it.

I slipped, catching myself but feeling the tree sway. It only took me a second before I realized that could help me.

When I shifted my weight back and forth, the pine moved under me. Looking down, I wished that I’d chosen one with a narrower trunk—one that might be more flexible—but it was too late for that. I could already hear another voice on the forest floor below me.

The tree swung a few feet toward the wall, and then back away. With each movement, I threw my weight into the swing, and soon the tree was shaking back and forth, creaking and rocking. I was working too fast to have a good plan—would it bend over the wall and let me jump? What if all the bending made it snap and fall? If it landed against the wall, I could climb it like a ladder—if I managed to hold on. Either way, I was facing a fall.

The voices were shouting now. “Benson, get down here!” “You’ll get detention!” “You’re breaking the rules!” I ignored them.

The creaking got louder and louder, and each slow swing seemed to strain the strength of the wood. It was too late to give up. I was already in the tree, already trying to jump the wall. If I went back down, I’d get detention, whatever that was. I had to keep going.

As I swung toward the wall I searched for something to break my fall, but the other side of the wall looked like this side—fifteen feet of bare dirt and rocks.

I had to jump. The Society was already below me. I’d already broken the rule.

When the pine swung close to the wall my fingers gripped the branch tighter, as if my own body were unconsciously refusing to take such a suicidal leap.

And I suddenly realized there was something in the forest on the other side. Smoke.

The tree swung back, and I put my weight into it.

It couldn’t be fog over there. It was too dry and too windy. But the dark haze hung over the forest, low in the trees. I couldn’t see where it was coming from.

An air horn blared beneath me. They were calling for help.

The tree swung toward the wall, and then back away. I braced myself for the jump.
Next time.

I could feel the momentum shift under my feet as the tree reached its farthest point, slowed, and began swaying back again. My gaze was glued on the dirt below, the far side of the wall. It looked rocky and hard. I’d have to land just right. Can’t lock my knees. Roll with the impact. I might just—

SNAP!

I heard a sharp pop like the sound of a gunshot. The branch below me had broken. I was falling.

I desperately snatched at limbs and branches, but it was too late. I tumbled down through the boughs of the pine, bouncing off branch after branch until I collapsed painfully to the earth. I landed on my knees then fell forward onto my face.

I panted for breath, pain shooting in my legs as I tried to lift myself up.

A foot hit my back, slamming me back down.

“Trying to cross the wall is a detention-worthy offense,” a male voice said. I tried to roll over, but he kept his foot in place. I didn’t have the energy or breath to fight back.

“Get his hands,” a voice ordered—a girl—and I felt someone grab at my wrists. I shook them loose, and then pain burst through my side. A kick to the ribs.

I rolled onto my left. There were three of them, all in their gym clothes. Two boys and a girl. I didn’t know the boys, but the girl was Laura, my so-called teacher.

“Hello, Benson,” she said, seeing the recognition in my eyes. She held a black stick—maybe it was metal—about two feet long. “No one is allowed to cross the wall. You were told this during new-student orientation.”