Compliance (11 page)

“Who wants to do the honors?” Larsson holds a large Aut-gun over his head. It’s the kind of gun they use Outside, and it shoots in rapid succession—real bullets, not like the Shocker tags the Comps use inside. After three seconds of stunned silence, all the recruits yell out, begging to be the one to shoot into the cage. We’ve only used Auts twice and only during controlled lessons on a range.

Larsson tosses the gun toward Cal who has to drop the bloody towel from his face to catch it. “Let’s see what you’ve learned.”

Cal’s eyes narrow. He assumes a wide-legged stance for the shot, not showing any pain in spite of the damage to his face and the blood gushing from his nose. The whole left side of his face is askew, swelling and bruising, and his normally prominent cheekbone is no longer visible.

I’m quite sure Cal didn’t ask for the gun, but now that he has it, duty and responsibility pour off him faster than the blood from his surely-broken nose. Cal doesn’t have a cruel
or vicious bone in his body, but he honestly believes that killing both the Deviant and the Shredder is justified. Maybe he’s right.

Cal raises the Aut. The rest of the group gives him a few feet of room. Strong hands pull me back so I won’t get showered by red-hot spent shells. It’s Larsson. Cal hesitates for a moment and I wonder if he’s trying to decide which one to kill first, but then I realize his tactic. He’s waiting until he can line them up and take both down with a single burst of gunfire.

The Shredder grabs the Deviant, and Cal fires. Rapid bangs puncture the air—I will never get used to that sound—and the faint smoke of spent gunpowder hits my nostrils before it’s replaced by worse smells from inside the cage.

“Good job, Recruit.” Larsson slaps Cal on the back. “If you can keep your mind off the little girl, you might just make it. Get that face looked at. Have someone take you to the Hospital.”

“No,” I scream and grab at Larsson’s arm.

He shakes me off as if he barely felt me. “Recruits. To the barracks.”

Our class marches out of the room in formation, leaving Cal and me alone with Larsson. I can’t let this happen. I can’t let Cal go to the Hospital.

“Going to the Hospital” is another euphemism for execution, another way for Management to get rid of the weak and the sick, to dispose of employees no longer useful to Haven.

Larsson’s found a way to get one of us out of COT. I’ll
bet he expects me to flame out once Cal’s gone. Cal’s visibly shaking although it’s not clear whether it’s caused by the prospect of the Hospital, his pain, or the loss of blood.

I put myself between Larsson and Cal. “You are not taking him to the Hospital.”

Cal staggers forward to stand beside me. “She’s right. I don’t need the Hospital. It’s not that bad.” He touches his face, and his body lurches as if he’s trying not to vomit.

“Recruit, you need medical attention.” Larsson grabs past me for Cal’s arm, but I stay in between and draw his attention.

I’m not the one hurt, but I can barely breathe. “No.” I focus on Larsson’s eyes. Saving Cal is worth breaking my vow. Cal cannot go to the Hospital.

Larsson’s cold green eyes lock on mine. His heart’s pumping more slowly than I expect. He doesn’t care about the damage he’s done and doesn’t realize the danger I pose.

I squeeze, just a bit. Not nearly enough to kill, but enough to let him see I mean business. Larsson grimaces, but looks confused. So am I. What am I doing? I’m showing him who I am. He’ll have me expunged.

Unless I kill him.

With only Cal as a witness we could claim Larsson collapsed. Cal might even believe that story. But who am I kidding? I can’t do it. I can’t kill. Not even someone as horrid as Larsson. It’s wrong. I break away.

“Did someone call for medical help?” a female voice says.

Mrs. Kalin strides into the room and I suck in a sharp breath. She really does remind me of my late mother, down
to the same confident stride as her heels tap the gymnasium floor.

“Mrs. Kalin.” Larsson straightens and salutes, then drops his hand to his side as if suddenly realizing his instinctive gesture was wrong.

“What happened here?” She steps up to Cal and surveys his face. “Looks like a broken nose, but I can’t be sure about your cheekbone with all that swelling. Not sure if it’s broken or badly bruised. Come with me, young man, and we’ll get you fixed up.”

“No.” I grab Mrs. Kalin’s arm. “Don’t take him to the Hospital. Please.” I press the heel of my hand into my squeezing chest.

“Recruit.” Larsson pulls me off her. “This is Mrs. Kalin, the VP of Health and Safety. Show some respect.”

“Nice to see you again, Glory,” she says.

Larsson looks startled, then glares at me.

Drawing deep breaths and trying to think clearly, I keep my gaze on the toes of her shoes, which shine against the dull gymnasium floor. I’ve just argued with one of the most powerful VPs in Haven. I’m dead.

Her hand softly takes my chin and tips my face up, but I refuse to look into her eyes. If I do, I’ll hurt her. I can’t. Not even to save Cal.

“I admire your concern for your dating partner.” She brushes her thumb over my cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ll help your young man.”

I remain between her and Cal. “Don’t take him to the Hospital. Please. He’s fine. He’ll heal.”

“He needs medical attention.” Her voice is calm. “His nose is broken.”

“I’m fine,” Cal says but his voice is distorted and he’s clearly having trouble breathing through the blood.

“Glory,” Mrs. Kalin says. “Would you like to come with us to see for yourself?”

Blood rushes in my ears. “To the
Hospital
?” If I don’t do something quickly, we’re both dead.

“I don’t think the Hospital will be necessary,” she says. “The Executive Building is closer and I have a room there that’s suitable for treating this kind of accident.”

I nod slowly, and the tension in my shoulders eases. I don’t fully trust her, but at least we’re not going to the Hospital.

“Why don’t you take off your helmets,” she says. Both Cal and I remove our headgear, and she brushes stray hairs from my sweaty cheek to behind my ear. “My, you really are pretty.”

My cheeks heat and I keep my gaze down.

“Now, let’s get your young man’s nose fixed.” I flick my gaze up to her face as she sends me a reassuring smile. “You can be my assistant.”

N
ERVES FIRING
, I step up to Cal who’s lying on a metal table. His left eye’s swollen shut, his nose no longer follows a straight line, and his cheek’s turned an alarming shade of crimson.

“How do I look?” he asks.

“Fabulous.” I grin. “Handsome as ever.”

Mrs. Kalin steps to a counter at the side of the room and gestures for me to follow. “You knew someone who died in the Hospital, didn’t you?” She squeezes my wrist. “Was it your mother?”

I pull my arm from her grip. “No.”

She leans on the counter. “But you did lose your mother.”

“How did you know?” My throat’s tight, my voice strange. Did she look up my HR file? If she did, she knows the answer.

“It’s not hard to see.” She rests her hands on my shoulders. “The way you carry yourself, your strength, your sadness. I can tell you’re alone.”

I break down and lift my gaze. The instant I look into her smiling brown eyes, I relax—at least enough to control my ability. The kindness she projects is palpable.

“I can see the weight of the responsibility you’ve carried. It’s right here.” She squeezes my shoulders. “You had to grow up way too fast, didn’t you?”

My throat tightens. Her even tone and her kindness remind me so much of my mother that I want to crumple and fall into her arms. I want to be comforted. I want to be loved. I want my mother back.

I look down, feeling overwhelmed by emotions.

“Every young girl needs a mother. If you ever need to talk—about anything—you let me know.” Her hands drop from my shoulders.

“Okay.”

She opens a metal cupboard and removes some supplies. “So why are you so nervous about the Hospital?” she asks.

“No one ever comes out.” My insides freeze. Why did I open my big mouth?

She seems unfazed. “How many people do you know who’ve been admitted to the Hospital?”

“One.” Just Jayma’s brother. H&S had the Comps take him to the Hospital when Jayma and I were only ten. We never saw him again.

“And you jump to such conclusions?” She turns back to me and smiles softly, her eyes full of such kindness.

I feel safe. “I’ve heard of others.”

“What others? How do you know it’s not all a bunch of terrible rumors?”

I scan my memories and realize she’s right. Everything I’ve heard about the Hospital is based on rumors. Jayma’s brother was sick with the flu when he went in. It’s possible H&S told Jayma’s parents the truth when they claimed they couldn’t save his life.

She raises her eyebrows. “A bright young girl like you who’s interested in science—you shouldn’t jump to conclusions without facts.”

I don’t sense any malice or deception in her eyes. “You’re right.” It’s unbelievable how safe I feel with Mrs. Kalin. How at ease. How at home.

She selects a small vial of liquid. “If you’re interested, I’ll take you on a tour of the Hospital.”

I look into her eyes to make sure she’s serious. Her suggestion’s oddly appealing considering my fears, but if I see the Hospital for myself, I’ll know the truth. Assuming I come out alive.

Taking Cal’s hand, I bend to kiss his undamaged cheek. Mrs. Kalin steps up to the table, a syringe in her hand. Cal’s eyes widen with alarm.

“It’s okay,” I tell him. “She’ll make you feel better.” As I say this, I realize I believe what I’m saying. It feels odd to trust Mrs. Kalin—trusting is not in my nature—but it feels right. Maybe I’ve learned that lesson. I didn’t trust Burn when he was trying to save Drake. I didn’t trust my father when I first saw him again, either. Not until I learned the truth. It’s time
to trust my own judgment, and Mrs. Kalin hasn’t given me a reason not to trust her.

Cal’s fingers nearly crush mine as she injects the clear liquid, first high into his cheek, then another dose closer to his nose. His grip relaxes and I bend forward, pulling our clasped hands close to my chest. “It feels better, right?” My voice trembles.

He nods and I let out a long breath.

“Is it starting to feel numb?” Mrs. Kalin lightly prods his nose and he turns to face her.

“Yes.” His voice is calm. “The pain has dulled. It’s tingling.”

“Then we’re ready to begin.” She smiles at him as she gently presses on his face from several angles. “Your nose is broken, but the good news is the cheekbone’s only bruised. Glory, I need your help. Hold down Cal’s shoulders.”

She looks at me with reassurance in her eyes and I do as she asks. Mrs. Kalin takes his nose between her palms and the cracking noise sends chills down my spine. Cal barely resists my hold.

“There,” Mrs. Kalin looks down at her handiwork. “Now, young man, I think you could use some rest.” She injects another syringe, this time into the crook of his elbow, and within seconds Cal’s eyes shut and his breathing slows.

“Is he okay?” I ask.

“He’s just sleeping. Don’t worry.” She puts a manicured hand over mine, and her skin feels soft and warm.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” As soon as the words are out, I want them back in. Distrust is a hard habit to break.

“Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”

Feeling ashamed of my suspicions, I look down, unable to face her.

“You’re a bright girl,” she says. “Mr. Belando was smart to take you under his wing.”

I snap my face up toward hers. “How did you know about that?”

Her eyes flash as she tips her head to the side. “Nothing to be alarmed about. Mr. Belando and I don’t have any secrets. I’m glad you have a mentor in Senior Management, but a girl needs a woman’s guidance.” She squeezes my hand. “I’m so sorry about your mother.”

I feel the ache in my heart that never goes away. Tears well in my eyes.

“All alone at such a young age. You deserve better.”

“No”—I choke down a lump—“I don’t.” I turn my head to the side and catch a glimpse of my reflection in the shiny cupboard door, then quickly look away.

“Of course you do.” She turns off the bright overhead lights, and the one left bathes the room in a comforting glow.

I shake my head. “I was horrible to my mother.” If she had any idea what I did…

“Everyone has done
something
they regret.” She smiles softly.

I fight my emotions, my rising tears.

“I’m sure your mother loved you,” she says, “no matter what you did. It’s important to move past it and forgive yourself. Making mistakes is an important part of growing up.”

A sharp pain stabs my throat. I will not cry. But her
words, her presence, have made me feel the safest I’ve felt since my mother’s death. I remember few details from that horrible day, but I do know my last words to my mother were harsh. She died thinking I hated her, and I can’t believe I caused her so much pain.

“You’re not alone, Glory.” Mrs. Kalin’s voice is calm and soothing. “I’ve done things I regret, things I’m ashamed of. That’s how we learn, how we grow. We make mistakes, learn from them, and move on.”

My chest heaves as I choke back tears.

“Oh, sweetie.”

My shoulders collapse forward. That’s what my mother used to call me.

She wraps her arms around me. “What we’ve done in the past is less important than what we do now and what we hope to do in the future. The key is not who you were or what you did; it’s about who you are right now and who you want to be. Look at me.”

I raise my eyes to hers. She’s so pretty in the soft light, her expression so kind and sincere.

“If you let me, I can help you reach your potential.”

Tears stream down my cheeks. She pulls me into a tight embrace and I let my guard down. My body heaves as I sob, as if every slice of pain, every stone of guilt, every bound-up emotion I’ve felt since I learned the truth are pouring from me at once. As if every wall I’ve built to constrain my emotions crumbles.

Mrs. Kalin strokes my back, my hair, and with each slow caress another layer of pain flows away. She’s right. I can’t
take back what I did. I can’t change it. All I can do is move forward. All I can do is be a good person, now and in the future. And my work with the FA, saving other Deviants, is helping with that. I need to regain Rolph’s trust.