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Authors: Linda Joy Singleton

Memory Girl (26 page)

BOOK: Memory Girl
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“No. They come hourly to check on me.” His gaze fixes on the flames. “The acid fire will quickly burn through each bar.”

“How did you know how to do this?”

“Acid fire is one of many means used to enter locked dwellings—part of my training before coming here.”

There's a coldness in his words that chills me. He's trained for killing, I know this. There's so much more I want to know but no time to ask.

Flames scorch through each bar as easily as a brittle stick. The bars twist outward like fingers pointing into the
night sky. Nate presses on the bars and they snap off, tumbling to the ground. I jump out of the way.

When I look up again, there's a wide gap in the window.

A miracle
! I think, and wonder again who left the packet. Someone was able to sneak into my room and knew enough about Nate's training to give him the tools to escape. Whoever it was also knew I'd help Nate. But how could anyone know so much?

Nate jumps to the ground with the grace of a gull wing, landing softly next to me. As he smooths back his hair, I study him. I stare into his face—the scar over his brow, determined chin, strong shoulders, and curve of cheekbones. I imagine tracing my finger over his scar, down his cheek, to his full lips ….

“Thank you, Jennza,” Nate says softly. “I won't forget what you've done for me.”

When he starts for the bushes, I swing around to block him. “
We
leave together.”

“Not possible.” He glances around furtively. “A Topsider could never survive beneath the ground.”

“If I wanted to, I could,” I argue. “But I have no plans to leave, only to help you get away. You need my help.”

“I travel alone.” He shakes his head. “You can't come with me.”

“Actually, you're coming with
me.
” I gesture to the path through the bushes. “Unless you'd rather wait for the Uniforms to find your cell empty and call an alarm.”

“Are you always this stubborn?” he demands.

“Worse. Drop to the ground. It's going to be a tight squeeze.”

“Keep your voice down. There could be Uniforms
nearby,” he says as he crouches low and follows me into the tangled bushes. His attitude irks me. I rescued him, yet he's ordering me around? When I pull a branch away, knowing it will rebound on Nate, I don't warn him.

“Ouch!” he cries out. “Why did you come here?”

“Why have I done anything? To save your annoying life, which makes us even since you saved me from the vampfin.”

“You would have survived without my help.”

“The stinging illness would have made me unable to attend the Celebraze. You helped me, and now I'm sticking to you until I know you're safe.”

We reach the paveway, slowing our steps. The Uniforms might not notice a girl in dark coverings, but a prisoner wearing yellow won't be hard to miss. I turn back to Nate, putting my finger to my lips.

Night is a silvery cushion of quiet. No people or vehicles on the road, nor breeze of wind. Nate glances back at the jail, his strong shoulders taut like an animal prowling in the dark. He could probably move faster without me. But his blue eyes light up when I show him the solar cycle.

“Why walk when we can ride?” I say. “I'll take you beyond the Edu-Center to the Fence. We'll have to hike through the woods to avoid being seen. I'll show you how to get over the Fence. Or do you already know?” I add suspiciously.

He hesitates, then nods. “I saw you unwind the top wire, but that's not how I entered ShareHaven.”

I climb into the solar cycle driver's seat, scooting over to make room for him. “The Fence is the only way in or out of ShareHaven.”

“Except for the main gate.”

“Do you plan to go up to the Uniforms and politely ask
them to open the Gate for you?” I almost laugh at this crazy image.

“There's a tunnel beneath the main gate.” He slides beside me, so close that I'm warmed by his body heat. “Drive toward your compound—it's not far from there. After you drop me off, hurry back so no one finds out you've helped me.”

Morning is creeping up on darkness, a curve of dawn lightening the sky. We're running out of time. A flash of Milly trembling in the dark, frightened of shadows, makes me tremble too.

We say nothing as I drive the solar cycle away from City Central. I want to rip with speed but am still learning the levers and pedals. I crank a lever forward, but it shoves us into reverse. Quickly I crank the other direction. Nate chuckles until I glare at him. I don't admit I've never driven a vehicle before.

“Hurry.” Nate taps his fingers on the door.

I slam my foot on the speed pedal. Sweat drips from my forehead. My mind spins with images of a city with crowded building towers—skyscrapers—and speeding cars. I smell an acrid odor—exhaust—and hear honking.

Nate lunges across the seat to grab the wheel. “You almost crashed into that tree!”

“Sorry.” I take a deep breath to clear my head, gripping the wheel.

“What just happened?” he asks.

Milly would be too scarified to admit the truth, but I won't let her influence me. So I say, “The memdenity confuses my thoughts.”

“You've done
that
?” His voice drips disgust.

“All youths get them.”

“Not where I live.” Nate scowls. “I won't let anyone mess with my brain.”

I feel the same way but find myself defending the process. “How else can useful skills be learned?” I ask.

“By reading or listening to stelling.”

“Why use a spoon to fill a bucket when you can dip the bucket into a lake?” I repeat a phrase Instructor Penny used to explain memdenity. “I experienced Milly's childhood in one morning. While I learned about retro-century from the Instructors,
living
it is so much more real. Jennza has never seen a car but Milly rode in them. I heard songs, tasted foods, tapped my fingers on a com—com—” I search the word for the magical device.

“Computer,” he says, which surprises me, because he's right.

“Yes, and there's much knowledge that is mine now. My next memdenity will show me house-crafting skills, marriage, and natural birth.”

“Marriage? You have a husband?”

I nod. “Also a daughter, sister, nephews, and grandmother.”

“But you're not really Milly.” He looks at me with a puzzled frown.

“No … she died a long time ago. I'm expected to become more like her, a gentle person who is much loved by her Family.”

“And you're okay with this? A husband? What if he wants … well … to act like a husband? He must be much older than you.”

“He ceased aging at twenty-five, so in ten years we'll be the same age.” I hear my voice, calm and accepting, but when I think of Arthur touching me, I shudder.

“Twenty-five forever,” he says with a sarcastic edge. “My people are lucky to survive past twenty, yet you'll never grow old. Even your memories are eternal.”

I stare at the road, my speed steady, but my thoughts uneasy. It's not fair for my life to be so easy while his people battle creatures and die young. And why have I been told lies about Nocturnes? Nate isn't subhuman or a beast, and there's gentleness in his face that stirs my heart.

Nate touches my arm, his fingers callused but gentle. “Jennza, I will never forget what you've done for me tonight.”

His tone echoes with good-bye. I slow the cycle as we near the turnoff to my compound, letting my gaze linger on his face for the last time—the scars of bravery, full lips, and sea-blue eyes. His gaze meets mine, and although I quickly look at the road, I thrill at his nearness. And I wonder: when he's safe with his people beneath the ground, will he think of me?

“Almost there,” he says.

Almost gone
, I think.

I peer ahead at a tangled landscape of trees, recognizing the row of trees leading into the Cross compound.

Soon Nate will return to his people. I'll never see him again. My emotions plunge down an endless hole. I shouldn't care about a killer. He admitted his guilt with no remorse, and he'll probably kill again.

Don't trust a Noc. Never leave the Fence. Stay safe in ShareHaven.

I'm not sure if these are Milly thoughts. Or mine.

“The Uniforms must know you've escaped,” I say anxiously. “Be careful.”

“They'll be too far behind to catch me. Don't worry.”

“I never used to worry about anything until I met you.”

He reaches out as if he's going to touch me, and I'm disappointed when he pulls away. “Before I met you, I thought all Topsiders were arrogant and cruel.”

“I thought all Nocturnes were monsters.”

“Your Fence isn't only to keep claws out but to keep us out too. While creatures stalk the woods, we're forced underground. It takes a dozen hunters to kill one claw. We've tried to destroy them, but they multiply faster than we do, so we're forced to live underground.”

His words crawl under my skin. “I've never seen a monster—but I've heard their growls at night.”

“You live in daylight when they sleep.”

I push the pedal with a burst of anger, and the solar cycle nearly careens into a ditch. “Sorry,” I say quickly, righting the cycle. “I'm just so angry at our leaders. They should help you, not shut you out. We should all work together to defeat the claws.”

“You can't change the world,” he says sadly. “Or even one island.”

“I can try,” I insist. “If the leaders won't do anything, I'll go the scientists.”

“They won't listen, and you'll only endanger yourself.”

“Danger is my normal.”

“I wish all Topsiders were like you—with more heart than hate.” He reaches across the seat, touching my arm. “You're special, Jennza.”

I like the sound of my name from his lips.

The Cross entrance looms ahead. To the right, beyond shadowed trees, is the only gate in the Fence, its high sentry platform a dark silver smear against night.

“Stop here,” Nate says. “I can walk the rest of the way.”

I slow to a stop, resisting the urge to keep driving so he can't leave. He's looking at me. And I'm looking back, losing myself in blueness deeper than the sea. I should just tell him what I'm thinking … feeling … wishing ….

Nate suddenly points to the Cross compound entrance. “What's that?” he asks tensely.

Twin lights shine from a vehicle leaving the compound, heading our way.

“Hide the cycle!” Nate barks. “Over there. Behind the trees!”

Dirt spits from the tires, hitting my arm as I swerve off the smooth road. The cycle bumps and lurches until I stop it behind a thicket of trees. I jump out and start running with Nate. “Go to your tunnel!” I cry. “Hurry!”

“What about you? It's not safe here.”

“I'll hide until I can sneak back into the compound.”

“The alert may already have gone out about my escape. Uniforms will search for me with guns and sniffer beasts. The sniffers will find you. Come with me!” He grabs my hand and pulls me deep into the shadows.

Trees swallow us. I nearly fall over a log, trying to match his long strides. Towering in the near distance are the iron spikes of the Gate. As we draw closer, I count seven Uniforms patrolling the Gate: three on the ground and four perched on the high sentry platform, poised to destroy enemies.

Nate rips aside hanging vines and squeezes through a narrow, rocky gap. Brittle branches crunch beneath our feet, each sound sharp like breaking bones. Nate stops by a gigantic blackened oak that's twisted and burnt, as if struck
by lightning not once but over and over.

A slant of moonlight shines on Nate's pale, sweating face. His jaw sets with purpose. In a swift jerk, he grabs a burnt branch and pulls it sideways.

There's an odd grating sound, and the ground beneath my feet quakes. Branches yawn and stretch, sliding apart to reveal a gaping, dark hole.

Nate steps into the hole, and I start to follow until Milly's terror tugs and rips my thoughts, her fears stinging like whipping branches.

No, not now, Milly. I have to be strong
.

Before I lose courage, I plunge forward, following Nate into the unknown.

T
WENTY-SIX

Concrete steps disappear beneath the ground.

Nate is a shadow blurring down the steep staircase, and I hurry to keep up with him. I envy his ability to move swiftly in the dark. Tunnel-dwelling is his normal, I remind myself. When he turns back to urge me to hurry, his voice is clipped and anxious.

I brace my hand against the side of the tunnel, which isn't rock or dirt as I expected but metal. At the bottom, lights flicker from the low ceiling. Nate touches his finger to his lips.

Looking around nervously, I search for any hint we aren't alone. But no one could hide in this cramped room, and the door up ahead is fortified with steel and bolted shut. There are two chairs beside a wooden desk, a metal cabinet that looks retro-century, a blanket on the narrow cot, and a plate with a dried apple core and bread crust on a dusty table.

BOOK: Memory Girl
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