Extraction (18 page)

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Authors: Stephanie Diaz

BOOK: Extraction
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Think, I tell myself. What do I know?

We’re in a simulation. I don’t know much about this game, but I know simulations of this size often have hidden functions in them—buttons or levers that blend into the environment, which could turn off a simulation or switch it to a different mode.

We’re still inside a dome. If there’s a secret button or lever, the best place to hide it would be some part of the wall or ceiling, since neither is visible while the game is in motion. Maybe, maybe, a different mode would help my team win. If I can even find the switch and set it off.

“Joe!” I yell, stumbling after him.

I’m wrong, no doubt, but I’ll try regardless. I have an idea where a switch might be. However, I need a stronger weapon.

“What?” Annoyed, Joe slows and turns to me, sweat dripping down his forehead. “We’re gonna lose!”

“Switch guns with me.”

“What?”

“Switch guns with me!”

He looks at me like I’m crazy.

“Joe, trust me. Switch with me!”

He growls, but his grip loosens on the mega-gun. I grab it from him and push my copper into his fingers.

Turning, I look to the tallest tree in the vicinity. It looms over my head, some thirty feet tall, at least. I heave myself onto the lowest branch. Moss tangles in my eyes, my hair, my face. Back, I tell it.

“What’re you doing?”

I don’t answer.

It’s hard to climb with only one hand. I manage because I have no other choice.

Logan used to say I’m the best climber there is. One time, he tried to race me up one of the trees on the edge of the forest. I told him not to try, because of his limp, but he did it anyway. He was taller; I was faster. I beat him, and he didn’t scowl or laugh or chide me for it. He hugged me. He wrapped me in his arms, in his warmth, like he would never let me go.

Branches scrape my hands. Sweat gathers on my face and under my armpits. With every step, the gun feels heavier and heavier in my hand.

Thirty seconds left, the sky says.

The weapon slows me when I want to fly, but I need it or this won’t work.

Please work. Please work. Please work.

Above, through a break in the weeping leaves, a pair of red-gold wings flies past over the treetops. I can’t see the steel of the dome, but it’s there. I know it is.

Fifteen seconds, the sky says.

There’s no time. I clear the last of the branches that are heavy enough to hold me. I grip the barrel of the orange gun and aim at invisible steel. My finger brushes the biggest blast button.

Ten seconds.

I smash the button.

Squeeze my eyes shut.

There’s a rushing sound and a blast so loud its vibrations rip through my skull. I open my eyes and block out the jungle fading away. I block out everything but the scores in the sky: one is 72, and the other is 97 … 105 … 117 … it’s still rising.

It worked.
It worked.

The branches of my tree turn to mist, and my relief shatters in my throat. I have nothing to cling to.

I fall through nothing but air, screaming.

 

15

Lights flicker on overhead like stars.

I’m shaking. I’m shaking so badly, air can’t even reach my lungs. Fire shoots through my legs and arms and chest, and I gasp for breath. I need that adrenaline back. But the pain in my body mingles with relief. The ground could have been linoleum or stone. I could have died when I slammed into it.

What a funny thing that would be, to escape death only to find it in the place where I’m supposed to be safe.

I heave myself onto my elbows. It’s dark in here, even with the lights like stars. Shadows make for the exit door. Boots and legs stumble past one another. The scores have disappeared from the sky.

A shadow drops beside me. Oliver’s glasses glint where they aren’t smeared with blood.

“What happened to you?” His voice is anxious.

“N-nothing.” I try to get up. “Did you see who won?”

“Not yet. They took the scores down.”

I bite my lip. I want to tell him what I did, but at the same time I’m afraid I dreamed it.

He grasps my wrist and pulls me to my feet. My leg screams in pain, and I gasp and lean against him heavily.

He frowns. “You don’t seem fine.”

I clench my teeth so I won’t cry out. “Really, I’m good. Let’s go see the scores.”

He grumbles something, but helps me walk.

*   *   *

The outer rim of Phantom has shifted. I can tell as soon as we step through the door because the place is different. The weapons are gone, and the room is smaller, with black walls and pale lights. This must be what it looks like pre-game. My teammates and opponents crowd before a gray hologram displaying the words:

SCORE PENDING

To my right, a
WEAPONS AND ARMOR DISPOSAL
slot in the wall flashes red. Oliver eases the laser-proof vest off me, and I slide it in after the mega-gun. The slot makes a crunching sound as if it’s eating the metal.

I shift my weight to the wall and dig my nails into my arm to distract me from the pain in my leg. I notice that mud coats Oliver, like he rolled around in it. Blood soaks spots in the fabric of his leather suit, but I don’t think the blood is his. I hope it’s not his.

He frowns and pulls a clump of leaves out of my hair.

“Did you kill many Unstables?” I ask.

“A few. Sam kept knocking me out of the way.”

“I’d like to punch him. Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” Like me, Oliver is too short to see him.

Ariadne steps into the room, running her fingers through her braid and glancing around nervously. She spots us and hurries over. There’s a small cut on her left cheek where a strand of hair is plastered to dried blood, but that’s the only wound I see.

I open my mouth to ask if she was okay in there, but her eyes widen, and she speaks first. “Clem, what happened?”

I touch a hand to my face and feel my mouth. My upper lip feels fatter than it should, and my forehead stings, but that’s all. “Is it that bad?”

“It looks like they reversed the beauty operation.” Oliver grimaces.

I snort. “Oh, really?”

Ariadne frowns. “No, you just have a couple scrapes.”

“Thanks, Oliver.” I hit his arm.

“Ow.” He rubs his elbow. “I was joking.”

I shrug and smile. He shakes his head, but his eyes catch mine, and he smiles too.

A flicker runs across the gray hologram.

The scores pop up:

TEAM ONE: 72                   TEAM TWO: 286

Gasps fill the room. I stare at the final score. It’s higher than I ever imagined it would be.

The scores slide to the top of the hologram, and two columns appear, one with individual scores and one with a leader board.

LEADER BOARD

          
FIRST:

     

CLEMENTINE

     

178

          
SECOND:

     

SAM

     

58

          
THIRD:

     

BEECHY

     

56

          
FOURTH:

     

RILEY

     

44

Relief runs through me again, and this time nothing stops it. I don’t know how my plan worked—it doesn’t actually make any sense, now that I think about it—but I don’t care. I didn’t make us lose, which means Sam won’t try to kill me.

My lips spread into a smile. I beat his score. I beat
every
score.

Ariadne gapes at me. So does everyone else.

“What did you
do
?” Oliver breathes.

“She must’ve shot that thing Sam was trying to find,” someone says. “Every game, there’s a spot that explodes everything. They say you have to be ridiculously smart to find it.”

“That doesn’t exist,” a boy says flatly.

“She must’ve cheated,” another says.

“I didn’t cheat,” I say, but maybe I did. No one explained the rules to me.

“Oh, yeah?” The annoying girl from earlier crosses her arms. “Then how’d you do it, huh?”

“It could be a Phantom glitch,” someone offers.

“Phantom doesn’t glitch,” Joe cuts in, grinning at me. “She found the spot. She’s vruxing brilliant.”

“Uh-huh, sure, Joe, that makes
so
much sense.” The girl rolls her eyes.

“Shut up,” Sam says, and I’m so short I can’t even see where he is. “All of you,
shut up
.”

He shoves through the group, past Ariadne and Oliver, and stops two feet in front of me. Tension flickers in his jaw, his body, and his clenched fists.

“Get out,” he says. “Everyone, get out.”

The girl starts to say something, but everyone complies, heading through a glass door that slides open and reveals the main floor of Recreation Division. Ariadne shifts on her feet. Oliver mouths “Come on” to me.

Sam’s eyes turn me to ice. I purse my lips and move toward my friends. He blocks me with a strong arm.

“Everyone but you,” he says. His face is too close.

“No way,” Oliver says. “We’re not leaving you alone with her.”

“Clem?” Ariadne’s voice is uncertain. She glances at Sam with wide eyes.

“Get out,” Sam says again. His gaze burns me.

It hits me that my plan was a bad idea. He doesn’t like that I beat his score—which almost makes me smile. I did beat him, finally. That makes me feel stronger. More Promising.

I don’t want to run away from him. I don’t want him to think I’m a coward, not after all of this.

I take a breath. “Both of you can go,” I say. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“No.” Oliver reaches for my arm.

Sam knocks his hand aside.

“Just go,” I tell Oliver, my voice hard. He doesn’t need to get hurt for me.

Oliver looks at me like I’m crazy.

I set my jaw. “I mean it. I’ll be fine.”

After a moment, he presses his lips together and grabs Ariadne’s hand. “Fine. Come on.”

He pulls her through the glass door. It slides shut, and I’m alone with Sam.

I cross my arms. “Well?”

He grabs my shoulders and slams me against the wall. “How’d you do it, huh?” Sam’s voice is fierce and strangled. “How’d you do it?”

“I got lucky—”

“Tell me what you did.”

He slams me back again—my head hits the steel. My vision spins, and I try to catch my breath. I think someone’s pounding on the glass, trying to get back in.

“Tell me!” Sam says again.

“I-I blasted the ceiling,” I manage. “I went crazy and blasted the ceiling to find some cheat for the simulation, and it worked, okay?”

He releases his hold on me for half a second to run his fingers through his hair.

I’m still recovering. I set my palms on the wall and start to push off.

He kicks my wounded leg, hard, and I cry out. His hands press me to the wall again.

“First you beat the vruxing test, then you come in here and beat my score.” His eyes are glossy. I must be imagining it. “That is
not
okay. Do you know how long it took me to beat Beechy? Commander Charlie’s gonna think you’re better than me, but it’s a
lie,
you vruxing cheat. I’ll get you for this—I’ll make your life hell—you won’t even see it coming.”

There are needles, a million needles slicing through my leg. “I can’t believe”—I struggle to breathe—“you’re threatened by
me
. You must be really insecure.”

“Shut
up
.”

Again, my head smacks the wall. Stars speckle Sam’s face in my vision, and I feel wetness in my hair and on my cheeks. Oliver yells something but the glass muffles it.

“I’d kill you right now,” Sam says, “but I’d miss out on so much fun, making you suffer.” He lets out a shaky laugh. “If you even get through training. To be honest, I doubt you’ll do well enough in the next stage. Commander Charlie will realize he made a mistake when he picked you, and he’ll ship you off to quarantine, where you belong. You and everyone else who is worthless.”

“You’re wrong.” My temple pounds with fire, but I won’t cry for him.

A smile tugs at his lips. “You think you’re safe now, but are you, really?” His voice softens. “Maybe I should take advantage of the situation, if they’re going to kill you soon. Remember, I’m a lieutenant. I’m the one with authority here.”

His fingers trail along my collarbone to the back of my neck and my suit zipper.

“Let go of me.” I struggle against him. He’s too strong. “You’ll get in trouble if you touch me,” I say, but in my mind I’m screaming because I don’t know if he will. He’s a lieutenant—he’s one of Charlie’s people.

“You really think so?” His breath is hot in my ear. “I used to be like you, you know. An Extraction with high Promise. But I came here when I was ten. Commander Charlie transferred me early because he knew I was special, and I’ve been training to be one of his army leaders ever since.”

Through the glass, I can’t see Oliver or Ariadne anymore. I’m alone and no one can help me. If I could slip away, if I could
run

He pulls my suit zipper down and skims his fingers over the small of my back, lower and lower until they are too low.

“I’ll kill you. I swear, I’ll kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” he whispers.

He presses his shoulders and hips against mine, and it feels
wrong
. This happened to me one time back on the Surface with an official—a bad, bad night, but not the worst, because Logan got there before the man could take it too far. I was halfway out of my dress and sobbing, but Logan found me and made him go away.

Now Logan’s not here. Now I can’t even speak, and my wrists and legs are pinned. I want to murder Sam. I want to strangle him, but I can’t.

The glass door slides open. “Sam, back off,” a voice says.

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