Compliance (15 page)

I touch her arm. “I’ve met Mrs. Kalin. She didn’t seem that bad.”

Jayma pulls her arm back. “H&S killed my brother.”

“The
flu
killed your brother.”

Jayma glares at me. “I can’t believe you’re saying that.”

“I know. I know.” I shake my head. “It’s just that…” It’s just what? It’s not like I fully trust Mrs. Kalin. “I wanted to hate her when I met her. I really did. But she’s been really nice to me, and she helped Cal when he broke his nose. And she cut my hair.” Not exactly true, but how could I explain the Salon?

I look back up to the screen. Mrs. Kalin asks whether
everyone has been taking his or her vitamin powder. She smiles and it feels like it’s meant just for me.

Happiness pushes out my negativity and I remember all the things Mrs. Kalin told me, and I turn back to Jayma. “After meeting her, it’s hard to believe that they’re doing anything that bad in the Hospital—on purpose anyway. It could all be rumors.”

Jayma’s jaw twitches.

“Listen,” I smile, “let’s not think about anything sad today. I almost never get to see you anymore. Let’s not waste it.”

“You’re right.” She hugs me. “But I’m going to do the routine from memory. No way am I looking up at that witch on the screen.”

I open my mouth to protest, but there’s no point in arguing with Jayma. She hasn’t met Mrs. Kalin, and to be honest, I can’t believe I let myself lap up even an ounce of the woman’s kindness. Maybe it’s a symptom of my loneliness, of my frustration at being cut off from the FA. Once I get back on track…

“Now that the President’s gone”—Mrs. Kalin winks at us from the screen—“I want to ask for your help. Let’s make his birthday extra special. He’s declared a Haven-wide holiday, so spread the word. Tell all your friends and family to attend. Let’s see how many employees we can pack into the Hub!” She clasps her hands together. “There will be plenty of surprises. You won’t want to miss it.”

Every time I look up at her image I’m reminded of her kindness, and the way she talks about the Birthday Celebration makes me excited, even though I know about the
bomb threat. It seems Mr. Belando hasn’t told Mrs. Kalin or the President about the danger—if there is danger. I trust Mrs. Kalin a lot more than I trust Mr. Belando.

“Come on, you two,” Cal says from beside us.

Jayma and I set up to exercise with the rest of the crowd, and the routine Mrs. Kalin chooses is my favorite. With the louder speakers here in the Hub and the lights moving in time to the music, exhilaration floods through me. Cal’s grinning too, and I can’t help but stare at his flexing muscles as he drops down to do push-ups beside me.

“You’re beautiful,” he says when we jump back up. “I love your new haircut.”

I feel beautiful. I feel strong and happy—happier than I’ve felt my entire life.

Yes, my life is dangerous. Yes, I’ve hit a setback, but no one’s better equipped to handle these challenges than me. Soon I’ll be back to rescuing Deviants again.

And I won’t stop until every Deviant in Haven is safe.

That night, I slip off my bunk and land without a sound. Only one of my shoes is at the end of the bed and I feel around in the dark for the other. Stacy’s not snoring yet, but if I don’t leave soon I’ll be late for my meeting with Adele.

“You’re so lucky,” Stacy whispers.

“You’re awake.” I turn on my torch to help me find my other shoe.

My light flashes past her. Her eyes are red and she slips the back of her hand over a wet cheek.

“What’s wrong?” I find my shoe and slip it on.

“Like you care.” Her voice is shaky and tight.

I take a deep breath, then crouch beside her bunk. “If you don’t want to talk about it, fine. But after the way you’ve treated me, don’t accuse me of not caring.”

Tears well in her eyes and she turns toward the wall. “Say hi to Cal.” Her voice cracks.

I sigh. “You flirt with my dating partner incessantly, then expect me to feel sorry for you?”

She turns back. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

“What?”

“Being a freak.

I suck in a sharp breath. Is Stacy a Deviant? What if she’s the mole? “You’re not a freak, Stacy.” I keep my voice calm and even.

“You don’t get it.”

“I get it more than you think.” I certainly know how it feels to be different, to think you’re alone. “Sometimes I feel like a freak too.”

“Yeah, right.” She sniffs. “You’re all tiny and cute.”

“I am not.”

She snorts. “You have no idea what it’s like to be the big girl, the tall girl, the girl whose shoulders are wider than most of the boys’.” She blinks and tears slide down her cheek and into her ear. “I look like a monster.” She pounds the bed with her fist. “I hate myself.”

I reach out and tentatively touch her shoulder. It’s damp with sweat. “I’m sure you’ll find the right guy.”

“No, I won’t. Most boys never even notice I’m a girl.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Cal’s the only boy who’s nice to me, but of course he doesn’t want me. Of course he’d choose someone like you.”

I draw a long breath. “Cal’s a good guy—and he likes you—but he and I have known each other since we were kids.” Guilt turns my stomach to stone.

My time with Cal has an expiry date. Some day he’ll find out what I am and we’ll be over. I hate thinking that I’m keeping him from finding a girl who could move forward to a marriage contract with him. I’ve been selfish in taking him back. If I were a better person, I’d set Cal free. And maybe Stacy’s not as bad as I thought. “Are you okay?”

“Leave me alone.” Stacy turns to her side to face the wall.

“Stacy…” I’m not sure what else to say. Plus, I’m late. “Maybe if you’d stop being so mean, you and I could be friends.”

She swings an arm behind her and slugs me in the shoulder.

“Ouch.”

She doesn’t apologize, but rolls onto her back.

“Are you going to report me for sneaking out?” I ask. One way or another, I have to leave.

She throws one of her shirts at me. “Get out.”

I’d feel better if Stacy really were the mole. Then I’d feel more certain she wouldn’t report me to Larsson for leaving the room.

S
TEAM RISES FROM
the huge laundry vats behind Adele, and long wooden paddles rest against the concrete brick wall. Strong chemicals burn my throat and nose. I pity Adele for having to work in here every day. She’s going to love the fresh air once she’s on the Outside and away from the dust that’s especially concentrated near the perimeter of Haven.

“Trust me,” I tell Adele. “You’re not safe anymore, but I can help.”

“You?” She narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her wide chest. “You couldn’t help a speck of dust.”

“Yes, I can.” I can’t tell her how I found her or how many other Deviants I’ve saved—not without blowing my cover—but the fact that I tracked her down proves that I’ve got what it takes to remain a key part of the FA. Burn will see that, Rolph will see that, and I’ll be reinstated. I can’t let my pride
get in the way of this mission. “It’s not just me. I’ll put you in touch with others who’ll help you.”

“I don’t
need
help.” Skepticism seeps from her every pore. She draws her hands together and her biceps flex. I have no doubt she could crush me with those laundry-strengthened arms, or snap my neck.

“The Comps are on to you,” I tell her. They must be if she was on Clayton’s list. “They’re going to arrest you. You’ll be exed.”

“How do I know you’re not one of those Jecs kids,” she says, “here to get me to admit to something and then turn me in?” She told me that we’re alone in here, but her voice is too loud and it sends nerves snaking through me.

I glance around. “I’m not a Jecs.” My stomach churns. I’m not part of the Junior Ethics Committee who spy on fellow employees, but she’s closer to the truth than I’d like. What if she finds out I’m in COT?

“What can you do?” she asks.

My shoulders relax. “I’ll take you to meet my contact, two nights from now. He’ll get you to safety.”

“You misunderstood.” She crooks up one side of her mouth. “What. Can. You. Do.”

I shake my head.

“Your
Deviance
.”

“I—” This doesn’t feel right. Not at all. “What makes you think I’m a Deviant?” Mine doesn’t show. Hers doesn’t either, assuming she has one.

“Why won’t you tell me?” She pushes my shoulder, shoving me back. “Why should I trust you, if you don’t trust me?”
Before I catch my balance, she shoves me again, then again.

“Stop it.” I regain a strong stance.

“Come on,” she taunts. “Show me what you can do.”

“I hurt people, okay?” Understatement. I kill. Steam bursts from a machine behind us and I spin.

She snorts. “You don’t look strong enough to hurt anything.” She widens her stance. “Give it a go, then. Hurt me.”

“I—my Deviance. It’s not about strength.”

“Show me.”

I shake my head. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Then we’re done here.” She steps back, starting to turn.

“No.” I lunge toward her, grab her wrist, and she stares down at it until I let go. Maybe a demonstration won’t be so bad—especially if I’m careful not to hurt her. Which means I have to trust my control. “Give me a minute.”

She snorts with derision. Her skepticism and patronizing tone fuel my anger. Perfect. At least that will make my demonstration easier, my emotions easier to summon.

The telltale tingling builds behind my eyes. “Look at me.”

She does, and I immediately latch on, feeling the pull that holds her to me, captured, helpless, but belligerent. She has no idea how easily I could kill her.

I choose her lungs, somewhere that she’ll feel my power without my risking permanent damage—I hope. Squeezing, I use my mind to push all the air from her chest and I hold tightly so she can’t draw more in. Panic rises in her eyes, her arms flap at her sides, and then one hand flies forward.

A fire starts in a pile of rags near my feet.

I break eye contact and jump back, then look around for something to smother the flames. Adele reaches into one of the laundry vats, pulls out a sack of wet fabric, and sloshes it onto the fire to douse it. Curses fly from her mouth faster and stronger than any of the off-policy language I’ve heard from Burn. The smell of singed fibers fills the air.

“I hope the detectors don’t pick that up,” she says once the fire’s out and she waves the smoke to help it dissipate. “They’re set low in here because of the steam.” She examines the sack of what look like sheets that she used to put out the fire. It’s marked with a tag showing an employee number. It must be someone in Management because everyone I know washes their own bedding. After satisfying herself that the fabric’s not damaged, she tosses the sack back into the vat and then spins toward me, eyes narrowed. “How did you do that?”

I suck in a breath. “I didn’t start the fire.”

“I know
that
.” She looks at me like I’m an idiot. “I started the fire. That’s what I do.”

“Of course. Yes.”

“You didn’t answer.” She steps back from me, almost as if she’s afraid.

I step forward. Her being afraid puts me at an advantage. “It comes from my eyes, and when it kicks in, I sense the insides of other people. I can grab hold and kill them.”

Backing up, she stumbles away from me. “What are you? Some kind of monster?”

Her words are like a slap, but I raise my chin, bracing
for another. “If I’m a monster, so are you. I’m a Deviant.” It’s one of the first times I’ve said it aloud. “And I’m here to help you.” Rescuing kids is much easier.

She swallows and runs her tongue over her teeth as if her mouth’s gone dry. She puts her hands on her hips. “If you know people Outside, then prove it.”

“I didn’t say anything about Outside.”

“But that’s what you’re talking about, right? Getting me Outside? Your people figured out how to live in the dust, right?”

I smile, neither confirming nor denying her assumption. “Night after next. Meet me in the alley behind this laundry, and I’ll take you to meet my partner. He’ll take it from there.”

“I’m not meeting anyone or going anywhere until you tell me the details of your plan and where you’re taking me.” She leans toward me, waiting for my answer.

My body wants to climb out of my skin. I’ve always found a way to connect to the kids I’ve saved and gain their trust. But this woman is beyond stubborn. I can’t mention Outside or the Settlement without violating every rule of my mission. Making a mistake like that wouldn’t help me regain Rolph’s trust.

When Burn saved Drake, he made contact with us directly, but now that I’m working on the inside we’re supposed to have some separation to limit the FA’s exposure in case one of our targets goes to the Comps. The less my targets know, the less they can reveal. If I’m the only one they know, I’m the only one at risk. Not the Extractor,
not the Transport Team, not the Settlement, not the entire Freedom Army.

Adele’s eyes open wide. “I just realized where I’ve seen you. You’re that girl. The one who was kidnapped.”

I freeze.

“Okay.” She lifts her chin. “I’ll meet your partner.”

Finally
. “Great. Meet me night after next at 0200 hours in the alley—”

“No.” She shakes her head. “We’ll meet tomorrow. Midnight. Here.”

“That’s not how it works. He sets the place. He knows where it will be safe for both of you. You can’t arrange the meeting.” And I can’t guarantee I’ll find Burn again before tomorrow at midnight.

“Well, then.” Adele shrugs. “I guess there won’t be a meeting.”

On the way back to the barracks, I enter the room where I met Clay for my briefings, hoping Burn’s there, determined to convince him to help me extract Adele and hoping he won’t be such a jerk.

A shape moves in the corner. Whoever’s in the room, they’re too small to be Burn, and I brace for an attack. “Who’s there?” I call into near darkness.

The shape steps into the light, and I realize what I saw was a trick of the dim light. Burn steps around the high stack of plastic containers, and his coat flares out above the tops of his heavy boots. “Came back for more, little girl?” His voice is cold and mocking.