The Girl Who Wasn't (34 page)

“
The same thing we’re all
looking for. Freedom.”

I don’t answer. I can’t think of what
should come next now that he’s said it.

“
But you don’t want to
fight?” Linc asks. Morton shifts to look at Linc and I can breathe
again.

“
Fighting offers the sad
consequence of dying all too often. I want to live. To enjoy my
freedom.”

“
So you hide here? In a
vacant warehouse? Doesn’t seem much like living to me.”

“
Linc,” I say.

“
No, he’s right,” Morton
says. “It isn’t. But it’s better than Twig City. And it’s better
than playing a role for the Authentics.”

I nod. Even though this place is dank
and dirty and makes me itch, he’s right. I’d rather live here than
with Titus any day. I ask the second-most important question. “How
did you get away?”

Morton rubs a hand over his cheek and
chin. I hear the scratch of stubble against his rough palms. “From
my earliest days in Twig City, I remember feeling … conflicted. I
would act all of the right ways in front of the overseers. Give my
best effort during physical activity. Eat right. Say all the right
things to my examiner. ‘I was created to serve.’ I had the whole
spiel perfected. But something inside me was drifting another way.
I doubted. I didn’t like my purpose. I didn’t like being told what
to feel—or that I couldn’t feel. I wanted to be more. Do more. I
wanted a choice.”

He pauses long enough to catch my eye.
His expression is deadly serious. “Do you have any idea what I
mean, Ven?”

“
I think so,” I say, my
voice barely above a whisper.

He continues. “They call it a
deviation. I was the first. Or the first to deviate and live,
anyway. I was four years made when I received my note from Marla.
It was the scariest piece of paper I’d ever held. I think even my
bones shook on that walk to her office that day.”

Linc squeezes my hand. Maybe he
suspects how hard this is.

“
My Authentic is a
professional athlete. Apparently he’s also prone to a bad temper
and overindulging in his drink. One night, he argued with the wrong
person and was subsequently stabbed. My mission was to take his
place in the hospital so he could recover safely, without the
threat of someone coming back to finish the job. I must’ve done a
hell of a job playing my part in the City because when I got here,
I was shown to my hospital room and left alone except for medical
staff. Four days later, in the middle of the night, I got up and
walked out.”

“
What about your GPS?” I
ask. “And the kill switch?”

He shows me the underside of his
forearm. A small white line mars his chocolate skin. “They are both
built into one device. I used the hospital’s tools to remove
it.”

My jaw opens. I am a little disgusted
but mostly impressed. “You cut it out yourself?”

“
They injected me with pain
medication for a stab wound I didn’t have. I didn’t feel a thing.
At least not right away. I managed to keep infection out and
eventually it healed.”

“
Then what?” I can’t help
being enthralled with his story. With the courage it took to walk
away—to deviate, as he calls it.

“
I found my way down here to
the outskirts. The people here are poor but they have heart. Not
like the people in uptown. Still, I was repeatedly recognized,
mistaken for my recovering Authentic. I sought out vacant apartment
buildings and warehouses, and I stayed there until something—or
someone—made me move on.”

“
How long ago did you
leave?” I ask.

“
Five years.”

“
You’ve been hiding down
here for five years? Alone?” I am awed and saddened by such
long-term loneliness. In my case, it is a lifetime.

“
I haven’t been alone for
some time. Although we are always looking for new friends.” He
smiles and it is an encouraging sort of smile, though I can’t help
but feel he’s searching for something.

“
You want to be friends with
me,” I say, my words somewhere between a statement and a question.
“Why?”

“
You can help us obtain our
freedom.”

“
I don’t see how there’s
anything I can do. Titus watches me—”

“
The Creator is evil. He
wants to use us and if he cannot, he wants to crush us. Don’t you
want to be free of him?”

“
Yes. I want that more than
anything.” I stare at the white scar on Morton’s arm.

“
Good, because I don’t think
we can do it without you.”

His words are off. They don’t sound
like what I am hoping for. “What is it you want me to
do?”

“
Melanie was the last
Authentic among us. Now that Titus has her, it’s only a matter of
time until he finds out about this place. I know we must move, but
I am out of locations large enough to accommodate.”

“
I don’t see how I can help.
I’m not Authentic.”

“
True. But they think you
are. And we need someone on the outside. Someone who can move
freely. Someone with access to the Creator himself.”

I’m not surprised. Only disappointed. I
know what he’s asking of me. He wants me to go back. To play my
role. My chest sinks into my stomach. It is not what I’d hoped for
in coming here. I realize that now. I’d hoped for instant freedom.
I’d even braced myself for the idea of allowing someone to take a
blade to my arm. I would happily never go back. But this … this is
asking so much more.

Linc twists his body so he’s facing me.
His free hand cups my cheek and he leans in. “I know you want to
run, Ven. That you thought this was your chance. I know you don’t
want to go back, but …”

I give myself three more seconds of
disappointment before I blink the wetness away and stick my chin
out. I look at Morton first, then Linc. “But I want to matter,” I
whisper.

Linc’s jaw tightens and I know it’s
determination for what we’re both agreeing to. “I know.”

I face Morton again. “I’ll do it until
I can’t anymore. That’s all I can promise.”

His tone is a mixture of pleasure and
regret. “That’s all I can ask.”

“
How many are there?” Linc
asks. I appreciate that he gets right down to logistics. It leaves
me less time for hating the fact that I am leaving here with a GPS
in my arm and a destination of the one place I hate most in the
entire world.

“
Honestly, I don’t know,”
Morton tells him. “Our numbers have grown so much in the past few
weeks. At the end, Daniel brought home a new Imitation every couple
of days.”

“
I still can’t believe that
asshole is one of the good guys,” Linc mutters, shaking his
head.

“
I know what he tried to do
to you,” Morton says quietly. “Both of you. And while I don’t
condone his actions, I don’t think good and evil are that black and
white. The methods always look muddy to bystanders. I would do
anything to protect my people. To some, that might paint me as
evil. To me, it means standing up for the ones I love.”

I decide Morton must not know the
entire story of Daniel’s actions or he wouldn’t be so quick to
defend him. Or if he does, maybe Morton isn’t entirely good,
either. It’s something to consider but it doesn’t change my
decision. Because he is right about one thing. These are my people.
And I will do what I must to protect them.

“
Everyone here has had their
GPS removed?” I ask.

“
Yes. Before they are
allowed to enter. But yours …”

“
Will have to stay,” I
finish, hating the way the words taste on my tongue.

“
For now,” Linc adds. I send
him a grateful half smile.

“
Will Titus know you were
here?” Morton asks.

Linc and I both shake our heads. “No,
I’ve already redirected the tracker. It will look like she was
shopping downtown all morning,” Linc says.

“
Excellent.”

Someone raps on the door and pushes it
open. Anna walks in, a fresh bandage on her arm. “Oh, good, you’re
still here,” she says when she sees Linc and me on the loveseat.
“So, are you going to help?”

“
I’ll do my best,” I tell
her.

She smiles and I am reminded of our
morning interactions back in Twig City. Something in my chest yanks
sideways. “Morton,” I begin slowly. I select my words carefully
because the question matters just as much as the answer. “Do you
think … I mean, when you say freedom, are we speaking only of the
Imitations on the outside, or the ones still in the City as
well?”

He regards me very seriously and gives
his cheek stubble another long rub before answering. “I am certain
that we cannot free one without the other.”

His words wind through me, a vine
leaving seeds of hope planted along the way. I think of Ida and
Lonnie and for the first time since leaving, the ache in my chest
doesn’t feel terminal. Morton and I share a smile.

“
Can I show them around
now?” Anna asks.

“
Please do,” Morton says.
“I’ll catch up in a moment.”

I walk close beside Linc as we follow
Anna down a wide hallway with concrete walls. The air here is stale
and I try to imagine living cooped inside these damp walls every
single day.

“
I’m really glad you
stayed,” Anna says as we walk. “I was so afraid you’d leave after
Morton told you everything. Especially after what an ass Daniel was
to you. And Melanie trying to kill you. That must’ve
sucked.”

Sucked. Yes. “It was difficult,” I
say.

I wonder what she thought would be so
scary about Morton’s story. None of it seemed particularly daunting
or game-changing. If anything, I feel justified in my own desire to
be free. I don’t have time to ask. Up ahead, someone coughs and my
nerves jangle.

We pass through an archway and the
space opens around us. The walls on either side extend far enough I
can’t make out the graffitied words on either end from where I
stand in the center. Weak light filters in through grimy windows
two stories above my head. It is enough for me to see that we are
no longer alone—and far outnumbered.

My feet lurch to a stop even as Anna
continues into the room. Beside me, I hear Linc’s intake of breath.
It matches my own. Whatever number of Imitations I’d expected to
see, this is far greater.

The warehouse is full.

Many of them are in the
process of rolling up blankets that have been laid out on the
floor. One by one, they rise and stare, their faces a sea of
curiosity and wariness. I don’t have to see their markings to know
what they are. The soft expression on their faces, the void in
their eyes—absent of exposure to the world—tells me every single
one is an Imitation. In this moment, I cannot remember why I ever
doubted my purpose.
Freedom is the next
best thing to being human.

I become aware of how hard I’m
squeezing Linc’s hand.

“
It’s all right. Don’t be
afraid,” Linc murmurs.

“
I’m not afraid,” I tell him
honestly. “I’m home.”

*****

Book 2 coming March 2014

For more titles by Heather Hildenbrand,
visit
www.heatherhildenbrand.blogspot.com

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