Pass/Fail (2012) (27 page)

“It might be broken,” he said. “I’ve done what I could. Try not to move too much.”

“No problem,” she said, and smiled. “Right now I don’t think I could sit up.” She just laid there and watched him for a while before she said, “You found me.”

“Here, have some water,” he said, and handed her the plastic tube from his pack. He drank a lot of it before she handed it back.

“There’s nobody here, is there?” she asked. “I called for help. I screamed a lot. But nobody came.”

“As far as I can tell,” Jake said, “you and me are the only people in the whole town right now. I thought I was alone.” He laughed. “I was beginning to think I was dead, and that this is what happens to clones when they die. But then I found you.”

“You found me,” she said again. She made it sound like he’d done something pretty special. “Well,” she said, turning her face up toward the ceiling, “if this was Heaven, I think I would feel a lot less crappy right now.”

He laughed.

She fell asleep again a little later. He woke her gently when he’d finished making dinner for the two of them. Soup, from cans, cooked over a little camp stove he had in his pack. She was still very thirsty. She had been lying across the couch, unconscious, for days in the dry still heat of the empty house.

“I think that we’ve been suspended,” Jake said, when they’d finished eating. “Mr. Zuraw said he would suspend you for pulling the fire alarm.”

“What are you in for?” she asked.

He smiled. “Take your pick. But I don’t understand why they would suspend me when they can just kill me instead. I got my third FAIL. I’m done.”

“Maybe Mr. Zuraw has a heart after all,” she told him. “Maybe he’s going to let us have one night together before—before that happens.”

Jake doubted it. But he was happy enough to just be with her, as hot as it was in the house. As bad as the food was, as scared as he might be, he was still glad.

They talked about little things until she fell asleep again. Jake made a bed of pillows for himself next to the couch—he had decided he would stay by her side through the night at least and make sure she was okay. As he lay down to go to sleep, her eyes opened again and she looked over at him.

“Me, too,” she said.

“Huh?”

She reached out to touch his face. Her hand felt very cool and soothing against his skin. “You said you loved me. So. Me, too.”

He twisted his head around to kiss her palm. “Go to sleep,” he told her. “You need your rest.” He wasn’t sure what he would do in the morning. He couldn’t very well leave her like this. She might die if he left her alone. But if he stuck around, if he waited too long, the Proctors might come and get him.

In the end it wasn’t his decision to make.

When he woke up in the morning the house felt empty and too still, as if time had stopped altogether. He sat up very slowly and saw that he couch was empty.

Megan was gone.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

“No, no, no, no, no!” Jake howled. He kicked at the couch, at the walls, at the antique furniture in the living room until it cracked and broke. He wiped at his mouth, rubbed his eyes, swore every curse he could think of.

Still he wasn’t sure what Megan’s disappearance meant. Had the Proctors come for her in the night and lifted her gently off the couch (gently so she didn’t scream as they moved her broken leg), so gently they hadn’t woken Jake, who was lying right next to her? Or had she slipped something into his food to make him sleep a deep dreamless sleep, then got up herself on a leg that only looked broken, and crept off like a spy in the night?

Cell phones—she’d never heard of cell phones before. Even though every kid in Chicago had one. It was enough to prove she was a spy. That she worked for Mr. Zuraw, and that everything she’d ever said to him was a lie.

Or maybe it wasn’t enough.

Mr. Zuraw had implanted memories in Jake’s brain before he was even born. Fragile, simply-constructed memories that fell apart if you looked at them too hard. But they’d been enough to make him think he’d lived seventeen years in this town. That he had friends here, and family.

Could he subtract memories from someone’s brain, as well? Maybe he had hypnotized Megan into thinking she’d never seen a cell phone or a computer before.

It was possible. She could still be real. Their love could be real.

He had to find her. He had to know for sure. The rational part of his brain, the part that had kept him alive through so many tests and puzzles and traps, kept telling him he should just let it go. That he should gather up his pack and his things and leave Fulton for good, walk out into the desert and disappear.

His heart had to know.

She would be at the school, if she was anywhere. She would be underground in the maze of offices and storerooms under the school. He would go. He would confront her. And then he would leave, if he still could. If the Proctors didn’t catch him while he was down there. He remembered how D had gotten around them, by wearing one of their masks and acting as if he knew what he was doing. Maybe that would work for Jake, as well, though he doubted he could match D’s self-assured tone of voice.

Before he left he topped off the water supply in his pack and adjusted the brim of his floppy hat. Used the upstairs toilet, which still had some water in the bowl. It was going to be a long day.

Outside the sun turned everything white and brown. It was hard to see for the glare, even with sunglasses on. Days like that weren’t uncommon in the Arizona desert. Jake knew which way to go, even without checking the street signs. He’d walked this way a thousand—well, several times before.

There was the corner of the local bank, and there was the entrance to the school parking lot. The school itself rose square and sharply-outlined from the desert. On the far side he could see the green patch of the soccer field, and the rising angles of the football stadium. The—

He heard something. A distant roaring, like waves crashing on a beach. Jake had never been to the ocean, not in his short life, but he knew that sound from television and movies. Except it wasn’t quite right. It didn’t rise and fall rhythmically like ocean breakers. It was more random, more chaotic. He closed his eyes to try to hear it better.

Then he got it. It was the sound of a lot of people all in one place. The sound of people in a crowd talking excitedly amongst themselves.

“Hello, Jake,” a buzzing voice said behind his left shoulder. “Are you ready for your next test?”

Jake nearly jumped out of his boots. He whirled around and saw two Proctors standing right behind him. They weren’t carrying guns but their mirrored masks were more frightening to Jake than any gun could possibly be.

Behind them two more Proctors emerged from the bank. Two more came up a side street, while four of them stepped out of a bakery and formed up behind the rest. More and more of them came—soon there were dozens of them there. Every teacher in the school must have come out for this, and maybe other people, too—it didn’t matter who they were when they wore those masks.

“Does she work for you?” Jake demanded. He needed to know. “Does Megan work for Mr. Zuraw? Is she a spy?”

“Everyone works for us, Jake,” one of the Proctors said. He wasn’t sure which one. “Some of them may not know it.”

It was the best answer he was likely to get.

“What do you want from me?” Jake whined. “Haven’t I gone through enough? Just shoot me already and let this be over.”

“We’re not here to terminate you, Jake,” one of them said. It could have been any of them who spoke. “We are here to form your honor guard. Please proceed to the football stadium, where we may begin your graduation ceremony.”

Ceremony? All Jake could think was that when Mr. Zuraw shot him in the head, there would be a crowd there to watch. But what choice did he have? He couldn’t run away. He couldn’t fight off all those Proctors. He walked around the side of the school and toward the entrance to the stadium, the Proctors marching along behind him in close formation. He started to head up the stairs for the bleachers.

“No, Jake. Please use the players’ entrance.”

Confused, Jake headed through the broad gate that led directly onto the football field. When he stepped out onto the astro-turf, bright lights exploded all around him, blinding him. Thousands of them, coming from every direction at once, popping and flashing at random—

Flashes. Camera flashes. People were taking his picture. He held up one arm to shield his eyes and saw that every seat in the bleachers was filled, that people were sitting in the aisles and hanging off the guard rails. There weren’t that many people in Fulton—people must have come from other towns for this. He saw a few people he recognized in the stands: Cody’s mom, the town librarian, the school nurse, Mr. Fleming. The vast majority of them, however, he’d never seen before in his life.

They started cheering and screaming as soon as he lowered his arm.

“Jake! Jake! Jake!” they shouted. “Jake! Jake! Jake!”

In the center of the field the cheerleading squad waved their pom-poms and kicked up their legs, twirling their short skirts and their blonde hair. From the far side of the stadium the marching band launched into a raucous tune.

Up in the stands all those people held up cards, pale blue cards a foot square. At a cue from the cheerleaders some of them turned their cards over, showing they’d been painted black on one side. From Jake’s perspective the pattern of black cards seemed to form a word.

It said PASS.

One of the Proctors behind him touched Jake’s shoulder and then pointed to the far end of the field. There was a reviewing stand down there, and a raised platform with a set of stairs going up to its top. In front of it all Mr. Zuraw stood waiting, smiling so hard it looked like his face might stretch out of shape. He waved Jake over as if he had great news to impart.

“What’s going on?” Jake asked, running over to the guidance counselor. “What the hell is this?”

“You passed, Jake! For the first time ever, someone passed all the tests! Well, technically, there’s one left, but it’s just a formality. A real no-brainer.”

Jake spun around, trying to see everything at once. The reviewing stand on his left was decked out with red, white, and blue bunting. It held twelve people in folding chairs. Each of them wore a golden mask.

“That’s the Youth Steering Committee,” Jake said.

“Of course! They wouldn’t miss this for the world. For thirty years they’ve been waiting, Jake. Waiting for you. And now at last you’ve come. My boy, I could not possibly be prouder right now. Not even if you were my own son.”

“You’re more than a father to me,” Jake thought.
And a whole lot less
.

“That’s the spirit!”

“But I got a third FAIL,” Jake said, shaking his head. This couldn’t be real. “The bomb—the timer said FAIL when I pulled the wire.”

Mr. Zuraw actually looked surprised. “You thought that was for you? No, my boy, that was for D. That was his third FAIL. You passed that test, with flying colors. I know we put a PASS under your door.”

Despite his bitterness and anger, Jake couldn’t help but feel a wave of shuddering relief. “You mean, I—I’m done?”

Mr. Zuraw nodded happily. “Or just about. One last thing to do and then it’s official.”

“What’s that?” Jake asked. He took a step back to look at the raised platform. Stairs led up to its top where someone was kneeling with his head bowed. Jake looked closer and saw they’d been bound, with their hands tied behind their back. He looked again and realized it was Cody up there.

“It’s less of a test than a reward,” Mr. Zuraw told him. “I have a gun right here. All you have to do, to pass, to graduate, to go on to your real destiny—is step up there and kill him. Kill the boy who said he was your friend. Kill the boy who betrayed you. Easy as pie, right?”

Chapter Sixty

It had to be a hundred degrees on the football field. There were thousands of people watching Jake, cheering him on, so proud of him. It didn’t stop cold dread from gripping him like a bony claw.

“You want me to kill Cody,” he said, slowly.

“Codename Y, you mean. Cody was never his name,” Mr. Zuraw corrected. “He’s not even seventeen. Does that help? He’s twenty-six. He’s been working for me since the beginning of the project. He has a youthful face and when he shaves twice a day he can pass for someone your age.”

Jake nodded. He understood what was going on.

“I, um,” he said, trying to think fast. “I’m kind of grimy.”

“What?” Mr. Zuraw asked, looking perplexed.

“There’s going to be a graduation ceremony afterwards, right? And I get to meet the members of the YSC, shake their hands, that sort of thing?”

“Yes, and then you and I will go back to my office where we can discuss—”

“—my very bright future, right, I remember.” Jake scratched at his cheek. “I just want to look my best for them. They went to so much trouble. Do you think I could just clean up for a minute, first? Take a shower, maybe. Or even just wash my face in a sink.”

Mr. Zuraw frowned but then he reached into his pocket and took out a microphone. There was no cord attaching it to any loudspeakers, but when he lifted it to his lips it made his voice boom around the stadium. “Folks, thank you so much for that warm welcome. The candidate needs a minute to collect himself, but as soon as we get back, I want you all to be ready to party!”

The crowd went wild as Mr. Zuraw led Jake out of the stadium and into the school, through the gym. “You can use the showers in the locker room,” Mr. Zuraw said. “But please, Jake, be quick. I’ve waited a long time for this.”

“Sure. I just need to go to my locker really quick and get my towel, it’s in my gym bag. It’s locker number 1337, it’s not far—”

Mr. Zuraw cleared his throat and Jake shut up.

“I am not surprised by your hesitation, Jake,” the guidance counselor said. “I know it’s a lot to take in all at once. You still think of Cody as a friend, as misguided as that impulse may be. I must remind you, I think, that this is the last thing you need to do. As soon as it’s done you’ll graduate. You’ll be free of the Curriculum.”