The Haven: A Novel (20 page)

“Iverson, get your ward,” Principal Harrison hollered. But Ms. Iverson looked down at her plate as though none of this were happening around her.

He caught Abigail in the corner, grabbed and jerked her around. He pulled her arm up behind her back. The lunchroom was pandemonium. Someone bellowed for quiet. Ms. Iverson jumped up, ran to Principal Harrison.

Abigail got free, swung at him, hitting him under the eye.

I ran then, screaming as I went. “Abigail!” Principal Harrison pushed her to the floor. He swung back, knocking Ms. Iverson off her feet.

Mr. Tremmel appeared out of nowhere. He pulled Ms. Iverson to safety.

“Help Abigail!” She was screaming. “Paul, help Abigail!”

But Mr. Tremmel locked his arms about Ms. Iverson and pulled her close.

The doors burst open and Security swarmed in the room. Two males, huge males, trapped Abigail.

Terminals rushed around.

“It’s okay,” Principal Harrison said like he was crooning a song. “It’s okay, Abigail. You are all right. Safe.” He pulled her to a standing position.

“Let her go,” I said. “Fight, Abigail. Fight.”

Someone knocked me to the ground and I saw it was Dr. King. I couldn’t get up. The air was gone. I couldn’t even sit.

“Shiloh,” Abigail said. Tears streamed down her face. Dr. King scooped her into his arms but she hit and kicked. “Shiloh!”

My eyes and nose burned. I coughed.

Abigail was leaving. Both Gideon and Daniel had been stopped, too. They were on the floor, facedown. Arms locked behind them. The room was a mess. Teachers tried to calm Terminals. Only a few tried to help Gideon and me and Abigail and Daniel. Several threw up.

Let her stay, please,
I wanted to say. A bit of air crept in my chest. I gasped, trying to relax.

Behind me, I heard Gideon call out my name.

My fingers tingled and my lips felt numb.

“Get him out of here!” Principal Harrison hollered at Mr. MacGee. “To your room, Shiloh.”

But I ignored everyone.

“Don’t let them take me, Shiloh.”

“Don’t give up,” I said.

Principal Harrison said, “You’re going to be okay, Abigail.” He looked at me. “Make this easier, Shiloh. Let her leave the room with dignity.”

Teachers cornered the aggressive Terminals. Others hushed the rest of my schoolmates. Security dragged Gideon from the room. I could hear him yelling to keep fighting all the way down the hall. Where was Daniel now?

Abigail hit the principal until he gave her a sharp shake. Then he carried her from the Dining Hall. When I tried to crawl toward her, Dr. King grabbed me and jerked me backwards so hard, I felt my neck snap.

“That’s not necessary, sir.” Ms. Iverson touched my arm. It felt cool in the heat on my skin.

Abigail was gone.

I slumped to the floor. A few young Terminals wailed. Someone called for backup.

But that wasn’t necessary.

The Terminals had been defeated.

24

I was in Isolation. I could smell it. The room was white, and cold, and I was on the floor. There was nothing in here, not even a seam to show me where the door was. No lock. No window. No bed or pillow or blanket.

I sat up, scooted till I leaned against the wall, and rested against the coolness of the plaster. My eyes were hot inside the sockets. My brain felt like it burned. My skin, all of it, was so sensitive, I couldn’t touch it. My clothes felt like sandpaper.

What had happened? Why was I here? Little by little I remembered.

Dr. King. Principal Harrison.

“No.” My mouth, lips, tongue, even my teeth felt swollen.

Abigail was gone. Daniel, too.

That fight. That huge fight. That we lost.

I couldn’t swallow. What about Gideon, where was he? Had he gotten free? Had anyone?

The side of my head ached, and when I touched it, I felt a lump.

I remembered Dr. King’s fingers squeezing into my shoulders when he came into my room later. The way he had said, “I don’t care who may have paid for you to be cloned, Shiloh, you will die.”

I refused to think of it.

I wouldn’t give up.

I would keep fighting, like Gideon said.

When I stood, my neck felt like string. Pain pounded all through me. Where was the corner? Putting my hands out, I touched the wall. It was smooth as glass. It would be hard to know where I’d started, so I took my shirt off and dropped it on the floor. Then began the slow process of going around the room, so sick, I felt it would have been better never to fight.

“You’ve been to Isolation before.” My voice echoed. I put my shirt back on and sat down. I would wait.

*   *   *

I’m not sure how much time passed. Security brought me Tonic. That was different. Why Security? Several times I faked drinking the stuff, taking off my jeans and spitting the liquid into the back pocket where it dried to a crust.

I slept on the floor, cold. Everything burned like my incision had, my stomach tumbled over itself, my fingernails broke against the floor, the walls, looking for the entrance I knew was here somewhere.

Male and female Security came in the Isolation room together again and again, forcing me to drink the Tonic. How did they know? I spit out as much as I could. But they were stronger. The Whole are always stronger.

Now the headache bloomed bright as fireworks. It spread everywhere. I felt it in my toenails, my eyelashes, the skin on my calves. Why so intense?

If I got out of here, I would fight back.

No,
when
I got out of here, I would fight back.

I would.

I held my hands over my ears to stop the pain.

If the ache went away, I would fight back.

I would.

For Abigail. For Daniel and Gideon. For every Terminal.

For me.

I would fight back.

I would.

Maybe.

The hall is as white and cold as snow. It’s slippery as ice. I can’t stand up. So I crawl.

In one corner there is Tonic, like blood. I run my finger through it to mark my place. Crawl until I’m in the operation room. It takes hours. Years.

Dr. King, big as life, holds a spade. Gideon is on the operating table. He looks at me.

“Shiloh,” he says, “help.”

Dr. King raises the spade.

“Shiloh.”

There is dirt on the edge of the blade.

“Get free.”

Dr. King swings the tool down with all his might.

There’s a thump. A splatter.

The sounds makes my head crash in on itself.

Gideon says nothing.

Blood leaks from his mouth, a drop at a time.

I mark my spot in the deep red liquid.

25

“Shiloh.”

My head pounded.

“Shiloh.”

I looked around the room. I’d gone blind. When I peered at my own hands, I seemed washed out. Pale. Was I fading away?

Words pressed close.

“I’m going to get you out. I’ll get you free.”

“Gideon?”

“I’m outside the door. Be quiet. I wanted to make sure where you were.”

I heard the turning of a key and there appeared in the wall a rectangle of darkness the color of ink.

“Come toward my voice, Shiloh. Hurry.”

“I can’t see,” I said. I felt hot, too hot to move, like only bones and skin were left of me.

“It’s just the lights,” Gideon said. “Recovery won’t be so bad this time.”

When he reached for my hand my head swirled. I heaved.

“You’ve only been in here a few days, the Tonic won’t be so hard to come off. We’ve got to go.”

“I can’t.”

My legs are done moving. I crawled too far.

Gideon was close. His touch burned the meat from the bones of my face. “You have to go.
We
have to go. They got everyone but me.”

I tried to stand and staggered.

You don’t have to go with him,
my head said. But I did. I remembered that. I had to go because Gideon was fighting for the Terminals. And so was Abigail, my best friend.

“
I’m
fighting for the Terminals,” I said.

Gideon slipped his arm around my waist, then he hugged me. I lifted my arms, heavy as trees, and put them around his neck.

This was what I had wanted to do all along. Even when I was full of Tonic and didn’t know I wanted it, this was what I wanted. Someone to hold me.

My eyes stung with tears.

Gideon helped me walk, closed the door with a click, and the world fell into a deep quiet.

“I’m surprised there’s no guard,” he said. “I guess he didn’t think I’d try to get you.” He handed me something to drink. “Here.”

“No.”

“This will help. I knew it was here. Adam told me. I found it when I came to get you. Drink the whole thing.”

“Too much. I can’t.” Focusing was hard. The bottle seemed huge. Far too much for one Terminal to drink.

Gideon put his hands on either side of my face. “It will cure you, Shiloh.”

My eyes buzzed. “Promise?”

He nodded and uncapped the drink. “They give this to us to help us get ready for the operations. It clears the Tonic out of the blood. You’ll be better in an hour. And if you can walk now…”

I drank the liquid down as fast as I could. It smelled like plants, was the color of dirt, and tasted bitter. But it soothed me, made the pain not-so-quite-there. I swallowed it all, then gave the container back to Gideon.

Where were we? Isolation was in the Infirmary building. But I couldn’t remember getting here. “Where is he?”

“Dr. King? I don’t know. Maybe looking for me. Maybe not. He doesn’t think I’ll do anything to stop him. We’ve had a little talk.”

“You spoke to him? What about?”

“He asked why we fought. Wondered what our connections are.”

“What did you say?”

“I pretended like I didn’t know a thing. But he knows I do.” Gideon pulled me closer in a sideways hug. “Don’t worry, Shiloh. I’m not good enough for him. I have no soul.”

“Neither does Dr. King,” I said.

Gideon put his lips on mine and I didn’t fight him. I let him press against me, feeling my body warm. His mouth was hot on mine. I reached for his face, ran my palms over his skin. So warm. And smooth, too. He pulled away and I touched his throat, touched the line of his jaw. I put my hand on the back of his neck.

“Do that again,” I said. And he did, pulling me so close, I felt his heart beating.

Were your heart and soul the same thing? If you had a heart, did you have a soul?

Gideon let me loose and, holding tight to each other, we started down the hall.

*   *   *

Even after the long walk from Isolation, with him supporting me as we went, I remembered Gideon’s lips on mine. My brain fought to clear itself. I felt the drink coursing through my body. The aches in my skin left first, in my joints next, and finally, finally the burning pain in my face and head was gone. There was that same residual feeling I’d felt the first time off the Tonic, the jarring flashes of light when I moved fast, but I was careful and took light steps.

And still I thought of kissing Gideon.

We went downstairs. Would he kiss me again? I stood on tiptoe, wanting him to, and he leaned his face toward mine. He ran his fingers over my cheekbone.

“We have to see if we can rescue the others. He has them.” He folded me in his arms. I heard him swallow.

If it all ends for me,
I thought, my face pressed into Gideon’s jacket,
it was worth this little bit of being normal.

*   *   *

The hall was empty. At the end a door stood wide open.

“That’s his office.”

“Dr. King’s here?”

“Must be.”

I did not want to do this. “What time is it?”

Gideon shrugged. “It took me awhile to find you.”

“And the others?” In my mind I saw Abigail’s face, saw her begging me to keep her safe, to not let them take her. “Gideon? Why are you here?” The question came out a whisper.

“Adam. I guess Adam.” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

The recovery room was so clean, I couldn’t smell anything.

They have no souls.

It isn’t human.

She looks like Victoria.

Someone lay on the bed. Part of someone. I pressed my hands to my eyes. Tried to block what I saw.

“Abigail?” I stumbled forward. Yes. There she was and wasn’t. Oh. No no no. “Abigail.”

Why had this happened? My eyes couldn’t make sense of things.

Go to her.

My feet propelled me until I stood near Abigail’s bed.

I wanted to say her name again, but my mouth didn’t open.

She was suspended a few inches above the mattress, held together by wires and cords and plugs. She seemed to float. Like those eyes in the jar.

I made myself speak. “I’m with you.” Could she hear me? Her face was slack, her lips formed a grimace like something caused her pain. What was left of her hair was caught up in a net. The braid was gone. “Gideon and me. We’re…” We’re what? “We’re getting help. We’re getting out of here and we’re getting help. We’re going for the female in the video, for Ann. We’ll find her and I’ll come back for you.” I spoke fast.

A plastic tube ran from Abigail’s side onto a cloth on the coverlet.

Just a gentle tug here, Shiloh.

Ouch, that hurts, that hurts.

I know it does.

A cool hand on my forehead.

The drain’s gone now and soon you’ll be good as new.

I touched the scar on my side near where my lung had been.

That’s when I cried. So hard, I had to cover my mouth to keep the sound tight to me. I leaned against the bed where Abigail lay. The stand, holding the bag of fluids that ran into her one arm, rattled.

“It isn’t fair,” I said. I covered my face, lay my head on the sheet near her, and wept. “It isn’t.”

Whoever said a Terminal’s life is fair?
came into my mind. No one! No one said anything for a Terminal!