Rebel (5 page)

Wren plopped down on the mattress as I climbed in after her. “Is this just for us?”

“Yeah, Micah said he had it cleared out for you.” I stayed crouched near the tent flap, suddenly aware of the fact that we didn’t have to sleep in the same tent if we didn’t want to. When we escaped from Rosa, we had to stay close, huddled together
behind trash bins or against tree trunks. We’d had the night in my old bedroom, but I didn’t want to assume we were going to sleep in the same bed every night.

She looked nervous, playing with a loose string on her pants and not meeting my eyes. I wanted to crawl onto the mattress and hold her without the threat of HARC hanging over our heads, but maybe that wasn’t what she wanted.

“I don’t mind staying with the other Reboots, if you’d like to be alone,” I said, shifting closer to the edge of the tent to prove I was serious.

She gave me a confused look. “Why would I want to be alone?”

I laughed softly. “I meant if you’d be more comfortable sleeping in here without me. I didn’t want to assume. . . .”

She shook her head, holding her hand out to me. I slipped my fingers in between hers and scooted toward the bed, until I was close enough for her to lean down and brush her lips against mine.

“I’m always more comfortable with you,” she whispered.

I smiled, kissing her again as I slid onto the mattress. She kicked her shoes off and I did the same, slipping beneath the blanket she held out for me. She was still wearing the shirt I’d given her when we visited my parents’ house, and it smelled a little like home when I pulled her close.

I didn’t want to remember home, or my parents, or how they rejected me. How I’d killed a man minutes after I’d told
them I was the same person they remembered. I knew it was the HARC drugs that had made me an insane, flesh-craving monster, but I couldn’t help but feel I’d lied to them. After everything I’d seen and done on our escape, I wasn’t nearly the same person who’d left them a few weeks ago. It was ridiculous to think I was.

But I often didn’t feel like a Reboot, either. I wondered if Wren really didn’t feel anything about the people she’d killed, or if she just hid it well. If being less emotional was truly a Reboot trait, then I hadn’t acquired it in my twenty-two minutes.

Being able to brush off terrible things the way Wren did might have been useful, actually. I could see how numbness would be preferable to the weight sitting on my chest.

I winced. The human version of me never would have considered that. He would have been horrified by the prospect of shutting off guilt.

Wren looked up at me and I ran my hand into her hair and kissed her more intensely than I had intended. She wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed me back, tilting her head up as she pulled back slightly. Her eyes searched mine and I suspected some of my emotions were showing, because she seemed to be trying to find the right words.

“I think we’re okay now,” she said softly. “I think we’re safe here.”

I pressed my hand into her back, touching my forehead
against hers as I smiled. I got the feeling she was lying, or at least stretching the truth, because there was no way Wren felt safe yet. But I appreciated that she wanted to make me feel better.

“Thank you,” I said quietly as I kissed her again.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

I WOKE TO BIRDS CHIRPING AND I JERKED, MY HAND INSTINCTIVELY
reaching for the gun at my hip. I found nothing but my old HARC pants. The heavy material at the front of the tent flapped in the wind, and I let out a slow breath.

I was safe.

Well, sort of. Safer than a few days ago, at least.

My second instinct was to find Ever in the bed next to me, and my head turned to the left before I could stop myself. There was nothing there but the fabric of the tent. I took in a shaky breath as I looked away. At least I didn’t have to stare at her empty bed in my old HARC room.

Callum was on my other side, hands behind his head, his
gaze fixed at the small opening at the top of the tent. He was so still that for a moment I panicked, thinking he’d slipped back into insanity, but his eyes shifted to me and he managed a small smile. I could tell what he was thinking without him having to say it. The horror of what he’d done, the memory of the man he’d killed, was written all over his face. There was nothing I could say. My only hope was he found a way to forget, or move on, or do whatever normal people did when they had guilt about taking a life.

Someday I’d ask him how he could torture himself over one human life when I’d taken too many to count. I’d ask him why he liked me when he despised killing so much. Someday I’d point out the weirdness of that.

But not now.

I sat up and ran my hands through my hair, avoiding Callum’s gaze. I needed a shower. And new clothes. I was still wearing his old three-sizes-too-big T-shirt. They couldn’t possibly have enough clothes for everyone, though. I might just have to wash the ones I had.

“Wren?”

I sighed at the sound of Micah’s voice from outside the tent and crawled across the dirt to pull back the flap of the tent, squinting in the early morning sunshine. I must have slept, like, fifteen hours. “Yeah?”

Micah looked down at me, hands on his hips. “We’re splitting people into groups to start cleaning and rebuilding today.
You want to be with me? I can take you on a tour around the compound, show you everything.”

I got to my feet, trying to think of a legitimate excuse to stay in my tent with Callum all day instead. I had nothing.

“Sure,” I said, suppressing a sigh. Callum climbed out of the tent, and Micah didn’t extend the offer to him.

“Can I shower first?” I gestured down to my dirty clothes. “And any chance of getting something to wear?”

“Yeah, sure.” He turned, beckoning for me to follow. “This way.”

“You want to come?” I asked Callum.

He shook his head, regarding Micah with amusement. “I’m good. I’ll meet up with you later.”

I rolled my eyes behind Micah’s back, and Callum grinned at me as I turned around to follow him.

I jogged to Micah’s side. It was still early, the sun just starting to rise, but there were already quite a few Reboots milling around. I scanned their faces. “Is One-fifty-seven here?” I asked. “Riley?”

“Yeah. He’s on the hunt with a few others. They should be back soon, actually.” He smiled at me. “He’ll be thrilled to see you. He talks about you all the time.”

The Riley I knew hadn’t talked all that much, but maybe Micah was exaggerating. Still, I was relieved. Riley and I weren’t exactly friends the way Ever and I had been, but I’d still felt sad when I thought he was dead.

Micah took me to a midsized tent at the back of the reservation that had been used as a makeshift sleeping area. Blankets and pillows were scattered everywhere, and a few Reboots were still sleeping in corners. There were stacks of clothes on a table in the back.

“Pick something that looks like it will fit,” Micah said, pointing. “I had everyone turn over their extra clothes so the new Reboots could have something.”

I took a quick glance around, wondering if the reservation Reboots secretly hated us. I would.

I grabbed a pair of pants and a long-sleeved shirt about my size and walked back outside with Micah.

“I’ll meet you over by the fire pit for breakfast when you’re done,” he said.

I nodded at him and headed across the reservation to the shower area. A Reboot told me yesterday that the plumbing system had been in place for several years, and it appeared to work impressively well. The bathroom stalls were small, closed-off wooden compartments, but the showers had nothing but a wall to separate one shower from the next, the front totally open. No curtain to hide behind.

I grabbed a tiny scrap of fabric (it looked like they’d cut all their towels in half) and scurried to the last one in the row, careful to keep the scars on my chest hidden as I showered quickly in the icy water. I was already enough of a freak here. I didn’t need people whispering about my ugly scars, too.

I shivered as I toweled off and reached for my clothes.

“Hey, Wren, you in here?”

I paused at the sound of Addie’s voice. “Yeah?”

Her footsteps came closer and her face appeared around the side of the wall.

“Hey!” I snapped, pressing the towel against my chest. I motioned for her to go away. “Can you give me a minute?”

“Jeez, sorry.” Her voice was annoyed as she took a step back and disappeared from view. “Didn’t realize you were weird about that.”

I quickly jerked a shirt over my head. “I’m almost dressed.”

“Good, because we have a problem.”

I sighed as I tugged on my pants and toweled off my hair. Wonderful. That was just what I needed. More problems.

I stepped out of the stall and found her standing a few feet away, arms crossed. I dumped my dirty clothes in a bin labeled
Laundry
and she followed me from the showers and into the sunlight. “What’s the problem?”

“The nut jobs who run this place are the problem.” Addie said it loudly, so that several of the Reboots around us turned and frowned.

I stopped and faced her. “I’m not sure that pissing them off right away is the smartest idea,” I said quietly.

“I don’t care.” She pointed at something, although when I followed her finger I couldn’t tell exactly what. “That crazy girl is rounding up all the girls and telling them to take their
birth-control chips out.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Which crazy girl?”

“The redhead. Um, Jules. Micah’s sidekick.”

“Did you tell her no?”

“Yeah, I told her no. Apparently it’s my
duty
to have children. Apparently procreation is
encouraged
. And since I’m an Under-sixty, I’m
especially
encouraged.” She threw her hands in the air. “Some of the Austin Reboots are buying this crap!”

I shifted uncomfortably as I glanced at Jules, who was standing outside a tent not far away. Her red hair blew in the breeze, her eyes narrowed as she watched us.

That was weird. And not exactly something I wanted to deal with.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said.

“Damn right I don’t have to do that!”

“Is there a problem here?”

I turned around to see Micah standing behind me, one eyebrow cocked. He peered at me, then Addie.

“Your sidekick wants to take my birth-control chip out,” Addie said.

His eyebrow lifted higher. “My sidekick?”

“Jules,” I said quickly, giving Addie a “calm down” look. I barely knew her, and her loudmouth tendencies were already getting on my nerves.

“Yeah.” She ignored my look. “She says it’s my duty.”

“Well, I don’t know about duty, but we’re a big fan of
Reboot children here,” Micah said evenly.

“I’m not doing it.”

“HARC forcibly sterilized you,” Micah said.

“I’m cool with it.”

Micah’s jaw moved, like he was trying to control his temper.

“It should be her decision,” I said quietly. “You’re not going to force her, are you?” I tried to keep the question light, but I was actually worried.

“Yes, it’s her decision.” He sighed, like he was disappointed.

“What a relief,” Addie said dryly. “Me and my baby maker are going to go over there and tell the others.”

I didn’t know whether to give her an exasperated look or laugh at that comment, and the edges of her mouth turned up in a smile when she caught both expressions on my face. I quickly wiped away my amusement as I turned to Micah.

“I’m surprised she survived at HARC,” Micah said, watching her walk away. “Doesn’t seem like she takes orders well.”

I shrugged. Addie had been at HARC for six years, so she must have done something right. And I couldn’t help thinking that maybe she was simply tired of taking orders. I certainly was.

Two Reboot kids ran around the fire pit, and Micah followed my gaze. He grinned. “Cool, isn’t it?”

“Weird,” I murmured. The girl Reboot was maybe four years old, and she shrieked as a shorter girl chased her dangerously close to the fire. No one seemed concerned by this, and
I guessed it wouldn’t matter if both of them fell in and rolled around in the flames.

If Reboot babies were encouraged, it didn’t look like that many people were feeling inclined. I’d only seen the one baby last night and I’d only noticed one little boy, other than the two girls at the fire pit.

“Are there a lot of kids here?” I asked.

Micah headed in the direction of the food table, motioning for me to follow him. “No,” he said, eyes downcast as he handed me a bowl. “There were more, but they’re gone now.”

“Gone where?” I asked. A girl about my age shoveled oats into my bowl. Everyone was close to my age, actually. The makeup of the reservation was similar to HARC, with most Reboots falling between twelve and twenty. Where was everyone else? Shouldn’t there have been more people around Micah’s age? Or older?

He was silent until we sat down in the dirt. “We had more people about a year ago.” His voice was low.

“Where’d they go?” I gripped my spoon tighter.

“A group of fifty or so took off by themselves.”

I lifted my eyebrows. “Why?”

“You’ve noticed there aren’t a lot of older Reboots on the reservation?”

I nodded.

“We had a falling-out,” he replied. “The older generation wasn’t happy here, didn’t like the way I was running things, so
they left. Most of the people with children decided to go with them. Thought they’d be safer away from here.”

“Do you know where they went?” The idea of a second safe community for Reboots was comforting, especially if this one didn’t work out.

“They all died,” Micah said, a pained expression crossing his face. “I tried to tell them it wasn’t safe, that our biggest advantage was our numbers and our weapons, but they went anyway. I found them a week later, on a hunt. It looked like HARC got to them.”

“Did they go south?” I asked, surprised.

“More, like, west,” Micah said, shielding his eyes with his hand as he gazed in the direction of the sun. “But HARC has ways of tracking and hunting people everywhere.”