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I remembered what she said, though. It didn’t make sense, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. I lifted her into a sitting position, and then pushed her feet through the hole. It was awkward and clumsy—I had to straddle Becky to get any leverage—but slowly I nudged Jane out, feetfirst. I tried to hold her under her arms, to lower her into the room, but she was limp, and my arms were shaking from fatigue, from carrying Becky, and from the cut on my forearm.

There was an engine outside—it sounded bigger than a car, too big to even be a pickup. It was getting closer.

I grasped her wrists and gently pushed her out with my foot. When she finally crossed the edge of the opening and fell, she jerked and I lost my grip on one of her hands. She dropped to the dirt, held by only one arm, and I knew immediately that I’d hurt her shoulder. But she made no sound, no movement. She was in a pile on the floor below.

The engine outside was louder, idling. It had to be in front of the fort.

I took the small wood panel that covered the opening and fitted it back into place. If someone moved that picture—if they wondered why Jane was where she was, and they looked on the wall above her—we’d be sitting ducks.

I blew out the lantern.

CHAPTER FOUR

M
oving slowly on the wooden planks so I wouldn’t make a sound, I crawled past Becky to the vent on the other side of the Basement—the one that looked out onto the road.

A short flatbed loaded with lumber had stopped in front of the fort’s door. A man climbed out of the passenger side of the cab—and I knew him instantly. Iceman. The man who had directed us every day in the school, giving us our schedule and doling out punishments. I’d wondered whether he was a robot, like Ms. Vaughn, and he certainly looked it now. Despite the cold and snow he wasn’t wearing a coat, just the same uniform he always wore on the school’s screens.

He pulled a chain saw from the bed of the truck and yanked on the cord. It fired up on the second try, and then he walked up to the heavy fort door, out of my view. The saw whined briefly as it cut through something, and then the engine shut off. I heard the heavy thump of the wooden door slamming open.

Whoever was driving the truck—I couldn’t get a clear look—put it into gear and rumbled forward, down through the trees and ford, toward the barracks.

Carefully and silently—almost too scared to breathe—I scooted back along the length of the room to the far side, to the loose board there.

I couldn’t see Iceman in the courtyard. We were above the awning over the walkway, so while I could see all the doors on the far side of the fort, the rooms on the left and right walls, and the snow-covered courtyard, I couldn’t see anything along this front wall.

Becky groaned, and I jumped. I slid back over to her.

“Shh …” I whispered, my hand on her cheek. She was burning up.

She groaned again, and her body shifted, accidentally putting weight on her bad arm.

Her gasp was muffled by my hand, clamped tightly over her mouth. My lips were almost touching her ear now. “It’s okay, Becky. I’m here. You’re okay.”

She struggled, and I released my hand so she could breathe.

“You’re okay,” I whispered, almost pleading.

“Bense,” she said.

“I’m here, Becky. I need you to be really quiet for a minute, okay?”

There was a crash outside. It sounded close.

“Where are we?”

My cheek was touching hers now, and I was still afraid that I was whispering too loudly. “We’re okay. I’ll explain later. Trust me.”

“Are we safe?”

I wished I could hug her and tell her everything was fine. I touched her hair. It was wet with sweat, but still smelled a little of her shampoo.

“If we stay quiet,” I said.

I listened for Iceman. I caught a footstep, or a knock, or a door opening. But there were no voices—from him or anyone else. Were they all like Carrie and Jane?

I could tell from Becky’s breathing that she was asleep again. I sat up and touched her fevered face. I needed to go back to the wall and see what was happening, but I almost couldn’t bring myself to move the six feet away from Becky. She was so vulnerable, so helpless.

I kissed her cheek.

Cold air blew in the crack when I returned to it.

Someone was lying on the ground. They were only a dark mass in three inches of snow—I had no idea who it was.

Iceman came into view. He stepped up to a door and checked the knob. It opened easily, and he disappeared inside. An instant later he reappeared, pulling a limp body by the arms. It was a girl, wearing a short-sleeved shirt and pajama pants, and he dropped her into the snowy courtyard. She didn’t move. Iceman reentered her room.

A moment later he left and moved on to get the kid in the next room. It was Mash, one of the Havoc guys. He’d never revealed himself as a robot back at the school. He was even at the fight at the fence, but had been on our side.

Mash was big—tall and overweight—but Iceman didn’t have any trouble dragging him out to the courtyard and dumping him in the snow.

After inspecting Mash’s room, Iceman moved to the next door. Two people were there—some guy I didn’t recognize, and Taylor, one of the girls from the Society. I didn’t know she was a robot either.

Iceman was looking for us, searching each room.

Had they seen our tracks? Had Becky’s blood dripped onto the walkways?

He was going to find something—I knew it. And then what would I do? If I waited here they’d search until they found both of us. But maybe if I ran, they’d chase me and leave her. Did they know how sick she was?

Iceman reappeared and moved to another door. It stuck, and he shoved it open with his shoulder.

My heart was beating heavily. I felt hot, like I was going to throw up.

He pulled a girl outside by one arm. He didn’t bring her as far as the others, and one foot leaned up on the walkway as her body lay on the ground. She had a coat on, but wasn’t wearing shoes. Her long hair sprawled across the powdery snow and looked like spreading blood.

I held my breath as he walked back inside to search.

Becky made a noise—a deep, heavy breath—but I couldn’t take my eyes off the dark, open door.

This was all my fault, too. Maybe the people who’d followed me to the fence had done so because they wanted to—maybe—but these people in the fort hadn’t done anything. I’d shown up, and now they were being tortured and searched. We were all just trying to survive, but trouble followed me everywhere I went. No, more than trouble. Death and pain.

Iceman reemerged. He saw the girl’s foot resting on the walkway and pushed it off with his shoe. He moved on to the next door.

From there he pulled a short, skinny girl and dropped her in a heap in the snow. It was Lily! I had no idea whether she was a human version of a robot Lily I knew, or whether the Lily I knew had been human and they’d caught her when she’d tried to escape. None of this made sense yet.

From other rooms I saw Mason and Tapti. There was a kid from Havoc who I didn’t know, and a couple of girls from the Society.

I stared at Mason for a moment, trying not to hate him. It wasn’t his fault. Or maybe it was. Maybe everything Jane had told me was a lie.

Becky breathed heavily again, and I slid back to her. Some of the tension on her face had eased, but I didn’t want her to wake up now. I sat next to her, poised to cover her mouth or hold her body still.

Another door opened. It was close. It had to be just on the other side of the wall, the next room over. I heard him drag whoever it was, something bumping sharply. And then he was back in the room. Something bumped, and then bumped harder. There was a clatter—maybe emptying a bucket? Or a box? And then a heavier thump and scrape, like dragging furniture.

And then quiet.

Carrie’s door opened, and something below us crashed.

Becky’s eyes shot open and she took a breath, about to speak.

I clapped my hand down over her mouth and looked into her wide, scared eyes. I put a finger to my lips and listened.

We heard one of the girls below dragged out of the room—the scuffling of Iceman’s feet across the floor and the rattle of a body across the floorboards—and then he returned for the other. He came back a third time. Carrie had hardly any furniture down there, almost nothing for him to search.

There was a tremendous crash, like he’d thrown Carrie’s bed over. Becky’s good hand clutched my arm. Neither of us was breathing.

He was pounding now—on the floor?

Voices. Dozens of them, outside by the road. I wanted to look, but didn’t dare move.

The truck rumbled closer, following the voices.

Iceman’s feet stomped around in the room for a few moments longer, and then he was gone.

I looked at Becky.

She mouthed the words,
Where are we?

I leaned close to her ear. “I’ll explain later. Stay here.” I scooted back to the vent that overlooked the courtyard.

Everyone was awake again now, shivering and struggling to their feet. Jane had moved toward the center of the courtyard and sat on the crumbling edge of what looked like a well. She was massaging her shoulder. A few of the other girls sat next to her. Mason stood by himself.

I forced myself to look at someone else. Carrie was sitting now, quiet and alone. It seemed like the only people who were talking to each other were the people I didn’t know. Everyone I recognized from Maxfield was stony faced and somber.

Others were pouring into the fort through the main gate. It looked like whoever was driving the truck had gathered the kids from the green barracks. Unlike those with rooms here, the others were all wearing coats.

I recognized many of them from school. Some I knew had been robots—Joel was there—but others I had no idea about. Walnut and Jelly stood next to each other. Had they been robots, or had they come here through detention?

“Quiet!”

It was Iceman, though I couldn’t see him.

“Two students entered the town this morning,” he said, his voice unnaturally loud. “They received help. Someone cut off these tracking chips. They were probably also looking for supplies, possibly first aid.”

No one spoke or moved.

“The first person to give me information about these students will be rewarded.”

Still nothing.

“Extra food supplies. New clothes. Heavier coats.”

The faces in the crowd were looking down, or up, or anywhere but at Iceman. He seemed content to wait.

There was movement somewhere below, something I couldn’t see and could barely hear. I glanced back at Becky. She was sitting up now. Even in the darkness of our hidden room, I could see the red splotches of fever on her cheeks.

“No one came,” a voice said—it sounded like Birdman.

Iceman’s reply was sharp and immediate. “The tracking chips were found in the barn.”

“Then they went to the barn,” Birdman said. “They probably found tools there, cut them off, and kept running.”

Someone screamed, and almost everyone in the crowd flinched. A moment later I saw Iceman marching through the center of the crowd, dragging Mouse by the arm. She was fighting him, trying to pry his hand loose while scrambling to keep her footing in the wet snow, but he pulled her along as effortlessly as if she were a child.

He was moving toward Jane. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, and my fingers curled into a fist.

Iceman threw Mouse down, and she smashed into the stone well where Jane sat. I could hear him plainly, even from the far side of the courtyard.

“Don’t play games. We know you two were at the barn at the same time they were.”

Mouse said something, and Iceman reached down and slapped her before she could finish.

Jane didn’t respond. Everyone else was moving away, creating a wide circle around them. Mouse was facedown in the snow, breathing heavily.

I felt Becky touch my arm, but I didn’t take my eyes off the courtyard.

Jane finally spoke. I couldn’t hear. No one moved.

Everyone was looking at Iceman, waiting for a response.

I reached for Becky, and she took my hand in hers. Her skin felt burning hot—either her fever was raging, or my hand was bloodless and icy. Or both.

Iceman bent down and grabbed Jane by the coat, and with inhuman strength threw her twenty feet into the snow.

Birdman finally rushed forward.

“Leave her alone!”

Iceman turned. Lily was at Jane’s side now, bent over her, but keeping an eye on Iceman.

He spoke. “I don’t need to remind you that you’re at our mercy. You have two responsibilities here: to live and to not interfere with us. When you stop doing either, you will be of no further use to us.”

Out in the courtyard, Jane was shaking. Her nose was bleeding, and she was holding her left wrist in her right hand.

Mouse was sitting up now, motionless, with her back against the well.

Becky’s shoulder bumped mine, and I moved to let her look.

“Now,” Iceman said, straightening his jacket and adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. “Two final bits of business. We have left the first of several loads of lumber by the commissary. You’ll need to build two more dormitories like the others. Hopefully, you’ll do a better job with these than your predecessors did with yours. Remember—you’re the ones who have to live in them. And the faster you build them, the sooner you won’t be sharing rooms and beds with the new kids.”

Birdman spoke. “More people are coming?”

Iceman ignored him. “The second item of business …” He scanned the faces in the crowd, looking for someone.

He found who he wanted, and pointed.

Dylan. I hadn’t noticed him before—he didn’t look at all like he had the night he’d beaten Jane. His face was gaunt and gray, and he stood expressionless and still, watching Iceman point.

Jane struggled to her feet, and then turned away, sobbing. Lily hugged her.

Dylan fell to the ground. There was no sound, no struggle. He just collapsed.

Blood spilled out of his ears.

Becky let out a small, “No,” but her voice was drowned out by dozens of others. Some fell to the ground crying; others shrieked. Iceman ignored them all. He picked up Dylan’s body and strode out of view.