Reboot (23 page)

“It’s blocked,” I said, pushing against the solid object. It was rough against my skin. “Maybe we should—”

The blockage moved before I could get out my cowardly words that we should forget this plan and Leb and Adina. I shoved it again and a streak of light appeared. It was two logs, most likely put there to hide the entrance.

I threw my shoulder against them until the top one fell to the ground with a thunk, and I was able to push the other one away. I squeezed out of the tunnel and sank onto the grass with a sigh. The air was chilly, the grass damp with dew beneath my fingers, but for once I didn’t mind the cold. I sucked a generous amount of the fresh air into my lungs.

There were no gunshots, no bombs, no yelling, just the cool morning air and the sounds of leaves rustling and crickets chirping. Escaping from Rosa was a faraway nightmare compared to the ease of our break-in to Austin.

Callum brushed off his clothes, then reached over and playfully mussed my hair, sending dirt flying. He smiled briefly at me, but his eyes were focused on something in the distance.

I turned. The tunnel had let us out on a hill, and it gave me a clear view of the
rico
part of Austin. I didn’t remember ever seeing it so clearly during my time in the slums.

It was small, probably somewhere between ten and fifteen square miles. It was the second Austin. The original was several miles south and, from what I’d been told, nothing but a pile of rubble. The Reboots had destroyed most human cities in the war.

I’d heard Austin called the best city in Texas. Judging by the other cities I’d seen, it seemed an accurate statement. It was nestled next to a lake, sparkling in the morning light. The buildings in the center of town were taller than those in Rosa, some ten or fifteen stories high.

A wide street ran up the center of town, beginning not far from the trees surrounding the lake and ending at a cute little round building. It was designed to replicate the original Austin’s capitol. Texas had no capitol, so I didn’t know what they did in the building now. Perhaps it was empty.

“Which way is your parents’ house?” I asked as I piled the logs back up in front of the hole.

“Past the capitol, down Lake Travis Boulevard,” he said, pointing to the wide street. His eyebrows lowered as he crossed his arms over his stomach.

“What?” I asked, getting to my feet and wiping my hands on my pants.

“I’m really . . .” He took in a deep breath as he pressed his hand into his stomach. “I’m really hungry, I think.”

He’d gone pale, and his hands were shaking worse than before. I swallowed, reaching for his hand.

“Your parents will have food, right?” My voice was steady, even though I was beginning to tremble myself. Ever had been famished in the cafeteria, shoving meat in her mouth as fast as possible.

Callum nodded. “They’ll have a little, probably.”

“Come on, maybe we can find something else on the way, too,” I said. The sun was getting higher in the sky, and we didn’t have long until the humans were everywhere.

He let me pull him down the hill and across the grass, the buzz of crickets fading as we neared the buildings. The only way to get to the other side of the capitol was through the city, since the HARC fence wasn’t far from the edge of town and I didn’t want to risk getting too close to it.

We crept along an alleyway behind the brick and wooden buildings. I glimpsed a few humans walking on the next street over and I quickened my pace, tugging on Callum’s hand. His eyes were downcast, his other fist pressed against his mouth.

“What is that?” His voice was muffled behind his fingers.

“What?”

“That smell.” He stopped, leaning forward and pressing his hands into his thighs. He took in a deep breath and I stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It smells like meat or something?”

I lifted my nose but all I could smell was fresh morning air and maybe a hint of grass or weeds.

He smells so good. Like . . . meat
.

Ever’s words raced through my brain and I turned to the humans, dread trickling down my stomach.

He smelled the humans.

I grabbed his arm and he stood with a start, blinking at me.

“Let’s get you meat, then,” I said. “Where’s the nearest restaurant?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to stare at the humans, his expression unreadable. “Remember when that kid tried to eat me?” he said softly.

“Or a butcher,” I said, ignoring him. “Or a grocery store. Are there any around here?”

“And then Ever acted like she was going to eat me, too. Remember? She was all weird and crazy.” He looked down at his hands.

My heart was beating too fast. I refused to answer these questions because then I’d have to admit that we should be scared of what HARC had done to him, and he already looked terrified.

“You won’t let me, right?” His words were quiet, his eyes bouncing between me and the humans.

I shook my head, too vigorously. “No. I won’t let you.”

He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “There’s a restaurant up about a block. They have meat, I think.”

I looped my arm through his and we rushed along the block. Callum tucked his chin down, and he kept taking in deep gulps of air, trying to hold his breath as much as possible.

“That one,” he said, pointing to a slightly cracked wooden door behind a smelly Dumpster. The sound of dishes clanging and food sizzling drifted out through the opening, and I slipped the gun from my pants and flung the door open.

Two humans were working in the kitchen. A man and a woman, probably in their thirties, and pleasantly plump in that well-fed,
rico
way. The man saw us first, and he let out a yell and clutched the woman.

Perhaps we looked worse than usual, or maybe
rico
folks weren’t used to seeing Reboots, but their terror was the sharpest I had ever encountered. The woman immediately began crying as she tried to drag the man toward the other door.

“Stop,” I said, pointing the gun directly at the man. “We won’t hurt you; we just want food.”

They both froze, clutching each other and sobbing.

“Would you stop with the crying and just get us food?” I snapped in annoyance.
Why must people cry?

The woman let out a gasp and untangled herself from the man, rushing to the refrigerator. Callum pressed his face into the top of my head, a whimper escaping his mouth.

“Meat,” I clarified.

She turned around with two large packages of raw meat in her hands, holding them out to us with shaky terror.

“Cooked meat, you . . .” I took a deep breath. “We’re not animals.” I gestured to the steak on the grill and the man started piling it into a container. “The bread, too.”

He put the whole loaf into a bag, placing the container of meat in with it. He moved to hand it to me and the woman snatched it away, pushing him behind her. She let the bag hang from one finger as she took a cautious step in our direction.

I didn’t realize the flash at the corner of my eye was Callum until he was on top of her.

Teeth bared.

Growling.

The humans screamed.

I wasn’t annoyed by it this time. My eyes flew to Callum’s. Glazed eyes.

My feet refused to budge as he shoved away her frantic hands and tried to get his face to her neck.

You won’t let me, right?

His words jolted me out of my frozen state. I launched myself at him, pushing the man out of the way. I grasped Callum’s collar and hauled him off the sobbing human so hard he hit the wall. He blinked and shook his head, but he still wasn’t Callum.

He wasn’t Callum.

The humans huddled on the ground as I snatched up the bag and ran to him.

“Callum,” I said, my voice shaking slightly.

He blinked once more and confusion colored his face as he looked down at me. I quickly shoved him to the door before he noticed the state of the humans.

“What—”

“Go,” I interrupted, taking his hand and breaking into a run.

I pulled hard when he slowed, yanking him down the alleyway. We sprinted through the city and onto a wide paved road leading to houses in the distance. It split off in two directions and I whipped my head around to look at Callum.

“Which way?” I glanced behind me for a sign of HARC, but there was nothing yet. The sky was clear, the morning air quiet.

He pointed right and we took off. Callum pulled me to a stop as we neared the houses, gesturing to a row of bushes.

“I have to eat something before we get near them again,” he said, nodding at the meat. “I can’t see my family like this.”

I looked behind us again. Still nothing. “Maybe we should keep going. Those humans will alert HARC any minute and—”

Callum snorted. “No, they won’t. You think they want everyone knowing there were two Reboots in that restaurant? No one would ever go in again.” He pointed up to the empty sky. “They didn’t tell anyone.”

I scanned the area. He was right. There wasn’t a shuttle or a guard to be seen.

I followed Callum over and plopped down beside him in the grass behind the bushes. I opened the container of meat and offered it to him. He took a piece and immediately bit into it, eating with fervor I’d never seen from him. I took a small piece for myself and pushed the rest to him, which he ate without protest. I nibbled at the bread as I watched him.

When he finished he ran a hand over his mouth, turning his gaze to the grass. He picked at it, his fingers almost steady again. “I just attacked that woman, didn’t I? I sort of blacked out, but I remember. . . .” His voice was strained, quiet.

I didn’t answer, but he didn’t need me to. He knew what happened. We sat there in silence for long seconds before it occurred to me that maybe this was a moment when I should say something comforting.

“Maybe it will wear off,” I said. “Or we can ask for help when we get to the reservation. They must have seen this before.”

He nodded. “That’s true.”

I hopped to my feet, holding out my hand to him. The sun was rising higher in the sky, and we didn’t have time to waste. There was a chance the couple would change their minds. “Until then, we’ll just keep you well fed. I’m sure it will be fine.”

He took my hand as he stood up, a hint of relief on his face. He believed me.

I tried to smile like I believed it, too.

WE HEADED DOWN THE PAVED ROAD AND TURNED ONTO A narrower street. The houses were smaller than I would have thought, but clean and well kept, without any of the trash that littered the lawns in Rosa’s slums.

“Are we close?” I asked. I pointed to the thick trees near the edge of the city line. “I could go wait there. Maybe I’ll go check the security around the slum wall.”

“No, you have to come with me,” Callum said, looking at me in surprise.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said. “But I’ll stay close by.”

“No, you have to come. They’ll want to meet you.”

“They will absolutely not want to meet me.”

“Yes, they will. You saved me.”

I sighed. “I’ll go but I’ll stay back. I’ll terrify them.”

“You will not. You’re not scary until you start attacking people.”

“I will. And so will you.”

“I am certainly not terrifying. I’m not even close.”

I let out a sigh of defeat and he smiled.

I really hoped he was right.

I glanced behind us, where I could see the tops of bigger houses peeking out from the trees. I couldn’t see much beyond the roofs, but the size alone suggested wealth.

“What’s over there?” I asked.

“The rich people,” he said.

“I thought you were all rich people here.”

He gave me an amused look. His color had returned after eating the meat and he almost looked like his old self again. “Mostly we’re just here because property is passed down through families. My parents never had any money. Neither did my grandparents.”

“What do they do?” I asked. I hadn’t thought rich people did anything, but if Callum worked the fields, his parents must have had jobs.

“My mom’s a teacher and my dad works in the food-processing plant. But they fired my mom when I got sick, so I don’t know if she still teaches.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Risk of infection,” Callum said. “She got one of the lighter strains of KDH when I got sick. They don’t risk infecting children with anything here.”

“Maybe they gave her the job back after she got well.” The little homes had backyards with wooden fences, and I caught glimpses of gardens and flowers. Everything seemed cheerier here.

We rounded the corner and Callum came to a sudden stop, his face scrunching up with unhappiness.

I followed his gaze to a small white house with blue shutters. A stone path led up to the front door and the little windows facing the street gave it a cute, quaint look.

But in front, on a wooden sign in big, black letters, were the words:
Quarantined until November 24. Auction on December 1
.

I looked at him quickly. “Auction? Does that mean . . .”

“They lost it,” he said, his voice catching.

“Lost it? How?”

“They had a lot of debts. They spent everything they had trying to save me and they must . . .” He swallowed and I took his hand.

“Did they have friends?”

“Yes, but no one would have room. And they wouldn’t be willing to take on three extra mouths when everyone is already in bad shape.”

“So where would they go?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Over there, I guess.” His gaze went east, to the slums. “HARC shuttles the homeless over there. They don’t want that sort of thing here.”

A man a few doors down wandered out of his house, banging the screen door behind him as he headed for his flowers.

“We shouldn’t stay in the open like this,” I said. Callum still stared in the direction of the slums, and panic rose up in my chest at the prospect of going there now. I thought I had more time.

“Let’s go in,” I said, tugging on his hand. “At least until the sun sets. No one’s going to set foot in a quarantined house.”

“We could just go to the slums now.”

“It’ll be safer at night.” I tugged on his hand again, and he finally looked down at me. His expression softened. Perhaps the panic I felt was splashed across my face.