Feedback (20 page)

Gabby and Carrie were asleep, and the five of us didn’t wake them as we carried the weapons outside.

“There,” Shelly said, pointing to one of the chicken coops—the one Becky and I had stayed in.

“Seriously?” I asked.

Shelly grinned. “I hide things well.”

It stank, and there was chicken crap and loose feathers all over our plastic blanket now. Once all five of us had crammed inside, Shelly shooed some sleeping birds out of the way and pulled up a loose piece of plywood on the floor.

It was the tunnel.

There was a sturdy ladder made of rough-cut two-by-fours, and we slowly made our way down. It was deeper than I expected, the dirt sandy and coarse. At the bottom—a full twenty feet underground—there was a small room, large enough for the five of us to fit comfortably. The tunnel, maybe three feet by three feet, extended off into the darkness.

Everything she’d mentioned was there, though some of the metal weapons had rusted. She said they had been stored here for at least nine months, and water from the fields must have seeped in. Still, there was plenty to use. She’d stockpiled it in anticipation of a more widespread revolt; there was more than enough for the seven of us.

We added the two powerheads and the Taser to the supplies. We couldn’t risk losing them now.

“Tomorrow night, after dinner,” Shelly whispered as I closed the box. “We’ll create a distraction and try to get as many of the androids here in town as we can, and then we’ll follow you.”

“What are you going to do?” Becky asked, shivering a little.

“I don’t know,” Shelly said, a look of mischievous glee on her face. “Maybe we’ll burn something down.”

Lily grinned. “I volunteer for that.”

Shelly kicked away the dirt under her feet. She held the lantern out and pointed toward the smooth, flat surface she’d just uncovered. “This is the roof of the underground complex.”

I knelt down and felt the solid, thick cement. The gravity of what we were going to be doing sank in.

I looked up at Shelly. “Any chance we could tunnel through here? It might be less noticeable than breaking the elevator.”

Curtis answered. “It’d take days, probably, and I doubt it would be any quieter. We’d need the pick. And who knows how thick that cement is.”

I nodded.

We all stared at one another for a few moments. This was real.

We were going inside tomorrow. Soon this nightmare would be over.

It was well past dawn when I woke. The girls were still sleeping, but Curtis sat at the door, staring out at the fields. Snow had started to fall, but it wasn’t sticking to anything yet.

“Coast clear?” I asked, standing behind him.

He shrugged. “You think this will work?”

“Tonight? I hope so. If not, I’ll be joining you in the implant club.”

“I had that feedback stuff all night,” he said.

“Really?”

He looked up at me. “It’s like a dream, but you know it’s real.”

“Where’s your dupe?”

“Back at school. Like nothing ever happened. The first minute I was aware of him he was in the car, going through the gate again. Ms. Vaughn was driving.”

“So they’re just dropping him off like he’s one of the human kids?”

He nodded. “There were others in the car. Humans. Kidnapped. They’re scared.” He looked over at me. “They never used to do that before—kidnap people. Everyone who arrived at Maxfield wanted to be there.”

I patted him on the shoulder. “We’re going to stop them.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t sound convinced.

I pushed past him and out the door, hopping down to the ground. “I’m headed up to the fort. I want that hatchet.”

“’Kay.”

There was a little activity in the barracks as I passed—talking and laughing from one, small plumes of chimney smoke from two more.

I could see a bunch of people getting feedback. Anna, one of the old V’s, was sitting on the ground in shorts and a T-shirt, a bath towel in the dirt beside her. She looked like she’d fallen over, but she was smiling. Something good was happening somewhere.

I picked up her towel and draped it over her goose-bumped legs.

There were three more incapacitated, all in the road. One was close to the river, and her friend was sitting next to her, making sure she didn’t fall in.

Things were happening in the fort. Six guys were already up and in the courtyard. It looked like the fresh lumber from the work site had been brought up here, and they were fixing the boardwalk.

Mouse sat on a bench, watching them and sipping something steaming from a metal cup. She scowled when she saw me.

“Is that a new coat?” I asked her as I passed by. Instead of the old too-big leather jacket she always had on, she now wore a long double-breasted wool coat that hung almost to her knees. It looked far too stylish and clean for this town.

“Maybe if you’d go outside once in a while you’d get a new one, too,” she said. “New shipment came yesterday. You missed it. What are you doing in that barn, anyway?”

“Nonstop party,” I said. I noticed now that four of the six guys had new coats, too.

“Where are you going?” Mouse called as I kept going.

I didn’t answer. It wasn’t like she couldn’t see across the courtyard.

I knocked on Carrie’s door, just in case someone new had moved in. There was no answer. I pushed it open.

The place had been ransacked—all her boxes were overturned and empty, and the blankets and mattress had been taken from the bed. Most of the pictures from her walls had been torn and trampled on the dirty floor. The cloth mural was gone, but the wooden panel remained in place. I pulled it out and climbed up into the Basement one last time.

The hatchet was just where I’d left it, the android’s blood still staining the wooden handle.

I dropped back down into Carrie’s room. I took a final look, and then stepped outside onto the walkway.

One of the guys was on the ground. They all were, a long two-by-four lying across one of their chests.

I ran into the center of the courtyard. Was it feedback?

Mouse was slumped over on the bench, her steaming coffee now spilled and seeping into the boards beneath her.

“No.”

There was a rumble somewhere, like the truck but louder.

Iceman was coming. And Becky was alone on the far side of town, asleep.

Dammit. There hadn’t been a warning bell. With Birdman gone, were there even guards on the roof anymore? I ran to the broken fort door. A truck was coming into view. I could go hide in the Basement, but that wasn’t going to save Becky.

I ran for the ladder that led up onto the roof.

Whatever was rumbling was big—bigger than the pickup I’d seen. Was it the flatbed? Bringing more lumber for the work site?

The awning was a mess of loose shingles and decaying wood. I scrambled up and onto the adobe roof, dropping flat to hide.

What
was
that noise?

My heart was pounding like a bass drum, even louder than the increasing roar of whatever was coming down the road. I scooted across the roof, trying to find the balance between silence and speed. When I peeked over the edge, I had a view of the stream and the tops of the barracks. I didn’t see anyone—human or android.

There wasn’t time to wait or to think. I slid over the edge, the weather-beaten adobe crumbling to dust under me, and dropped down to the ground outside the fort.

Pain shot through my legs, and I sprawled forward onto my face, getting a mouthful of cold sand. The hatchet flew from my hand, tumbling across the frozen grass.

I left it. Waking Becky was more important. I fought against the pain and climbed to my feet, racing across the frozen ground toward the cover of the stream. It wasn’t far—maybe fifty yards—but it was out in the open. All I could hope was that Iceman had gone into the fort.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins, and I didn’t feel anything as I crashed through the dry branches of the trees and splashed down into the stream. It wasn’t until I was on the other side that I dared turn and look behind me.

There was no sign of what was making the huge noise.

I could see the front of the parked truck, but not Iceman. The snow was falling a little heavier, but not enough to block my view.

I crept up the bank, my panic receding. I had to think, to move quieter and smarter.

I ran from building to building, crouching low and judging my footsteps carefully. After the noise I’d made in the trees, the fear of stepping on a twig was probably unfounded, but I avoided them anyway. I stopped at the cement wall of the washroom and listened, then ran behind the first barrack and did the same. It probably took less than two minutes to get from the stream to the barn, but it felt like an hour.

Curtis had fallen from the doorway and lay on his side in the dirt, a small scrape on his forehead from the landing.

I jumped past him and into the dark, silent interior.

The four girls all still lay on their cots, motionless.

I ran to Becky’s side, shaking her awake.

She opened her eyes slowly. “Bense?”

“Iceman’s here. We have to get to the tunnel,” I said. “Now.”

I ran back to the doorway.

“Dammit.”

“What?” She was behind me now, peering out the door.

The red pickup was coming down the road. It had passed the washroom.

I ducked back inside. “They’ll see us.”

Becky didn’t wait. She ran to the back of the building, darting around our collapsed friends, and to a window. I followed.

“What about them?” Becky said, motioning to the immobilized girls while she tried to shove the window open.

“They’ll be fine,” I said, adding my strength to hers. “Maxfield only wants us.”

“Unless they know about our plans.”

The window was stuck. Nothing in this barn was built right. The window frame was probably out of square.

I could hear the truck now.

Becky told me to move, and almost before I could she smashed a piece of firewood through the glass. The shattering sounded like an explosion.

She ran the wood along the edges of the broken panes, knocking out the small remaining shards.

The truck stopped right outside.

The last thing I saw as I fell from the window was Ms. Vaughn in the doorway, staring at me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

S
he’s coming,” I said, grabbing Becky’s hand and running for the forest.

Ms. Vaughn shouted something behind us, though I couldn’t make out a word. I hoped she was yelling at us, not calling for backup.

The ground was uneven, dense with tangled brush and fallen branches, and Becky and I were both struggling. We’d failed. They had come straight to the barn, so they must have known what we were doing, what we were planning. We’d been too careless, too public. We hadn’t posted constant guards to make sure no one listened at the windows. We discussed too much in the barracks that first night.

Becky stumbled on something and grunted, and I turned again to see Ms. Vaughn. She was gaining on us.

Becky turned down a slope, running along the center of a dry streambed. But it was rockier than it looked, and steeper, and we had to go slow. I searched for a stick, something to even the odds, give me a fighting chance.

There. A broken limb of a pine tree, about as thick as a baseball bat and maybe three feet long. I could grab it as I ran, scoop it up and spin around and hit Ms. Vaughn. She’d never see it coming.

Becky stumbled on a loose patch of pebbles, and then I did, too. Neither of us fell, but Ms. Vaughn was right behind us. I was fifteen steps from the limb.

Becky turned, up and out of the dry streambed.

Dammit.

I followed her, leaving the limb. Ms. Vaughn’s footsteps were loud and close.

No more time.

I turned at the top of the slope and jumped, screaming as I did it. Ms. Vaughn tried to stop, tried to raise her Taser, but I collided with her and the two of us tumbled back down into the stream.

I smacked at her armpit, like Harvard had told me, but now realized how useless that was. Unless her arms were above her head, it wouldn’t ever be exposed.

I grappled with her, but she was far stronger than me. I pounded my fists down into her side, but her arm was in the way.

Becky was there, a branch in her hands.

Ms. Vaughn got her elbow around my neck, and then punched me in the back. Pain burst across my ribs. I gasped for air.

There was a crash, wooden and hollow, and Ms. Vaughn dropped me.

I sucked at the air, forcing myself to stand.

Ms. Vaughn was between us now, her scalp bloodied. The branch in Becky’s hand was broken, only about a foot long. She changed her grip, threatening to stab with the sharp, jagged points.

“More are coming,” Ms. Vaughn said. “Give up.” She glanced back behind her.

As soon as she looked away, I jumped at her. Becky shrieked and—

Pain rocketed through my body, a sudden intense ache that was both sharp and dull, abrasive and blunt. I collapsed to the ground, unable to move.

I couldn’t think. I was seeing things, but they were a fog. I couldn’t force myself to understand them.

Becky. Ms. Vaughn.

I’d been Tased. The electric darts were in me somewhere, but I couldn’t tell where. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think.

Then Ms. Vaughn fell. Becky was next to me now, swinging her bloodied stick at something in the air.

I took a breath. The paralysis was gone, but the pain was still there.

“Bense,” she said. The long electric filaments were tangled around her stick, and she threw it aside.

I sat up, and my eyes went wide. I had time only to point. Ms. Vaughn was up again, and she pounced.

I was weak, unable to make my muscles move the way they should. Becky was on the ground, pinned beneath Ms. Vaughn, screaming.

I put one foot under me, and then another. I felt drunk.

Ms. Vaughn punched, and Becky yelped.

I grabbed Becky’s stick, shaking off the Taser’s wires. I tried to take aim, but was unsteady on my feet. I had no strength.