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Authors: Alicia Hendley

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“My dad used to come up here to fish with his buddies,” Noah says, following me around the place. “They built it when they were in their twenties and wanted a place that was off the grid. I know it looks pretty basic, but you’d be surprised.”

“Off the grid?”

“You know, a place that’s totally independent, not connected to any outside electricity, water, or gas.” He points to a huge window. “This was put in on the south side on purpose, to keep the place warm. We’ve also got a little power turbine going in a stream outside that gives us enough power, plus running water. Works even in the winter. And a few years ago someone set up a beer can solar collector for extra power.” He winks at me. “I told you alcohol wasn’t evil!”

“Don’t forget the lack of plumbing!” Meg calls out.

Noah shrugs. “We use that big tin tub over there to get clean. Just hang a blanket over the clothesline and you’ve got enough privacy for a bath. And then we’ve got a composting toilet out back.” He grins. “Almost as good as ISTJ!”

“We’ve got an amazing vegetable garden,” Meg says. “And I can teach you all you need to know about edible forest botanicals.”

“Don’t try and act like you’re little Miss Survivalist,” Noah says. “You’ve only been here once before and that was for about a week. My guess is you spent it memorizing my dad’s old book on forest plants.”

Meg rolls her eyes at him.

“Well, I think it’s wonderful,” I say. I take a deep, slow breath, and then another. “Does anyone know about it?”

Noah shrugs. “We’re pretty deep in the woods,” he says. “I don’t think anyone but my dad’s old fishing buddies know, and they won’t tell.”

“But, how do you know?” I look at my friend, the fear from the night before suddenly coming back. “What if one of them tells and they come get us?”

“Let’s just say that my dad and his buddies didn’t just fish when they were up here,” Noah says. “Let’s say that they talked about all that was wrong with The Association and what they could do about it.”

“They did?”

Noah nods, then sits down on one of the sofas.

“But if they talked about it, why didn’t they do anything? What’s the point of just talking?” I stand in front of him, some of my fear turning to anger and spilling over onto my friend.

“You know that peanut butter you just scarfed down? That came from my dad’s best friend Craig. He still comes up here about once a month, brings us groceries we can’t grow. Doesn’t even make us pay anything,” Noah says. “Maybe you could ask him.”

“I’m asking you!”

Noah shrugs. “My guess is that when my father was taken for surgery for his supposed headaches, they got scared and shut up.”

“I thought your dad had a brain tumour,” I say.

“It’s better if you keep thinking that,” Noah answers. “I think you’ve learned enough for now, huh?”

I sit down next to him and give him some of my blanket. I don’t say anything more and instead just watch the other kids. Some are cooking something near the table, a few are playing cards, another is coming in and out, carrying armfuls of branches and twigs. Suddenly I feel exhausted again.

“I need to lie down,” I say, standing up with the blanket. “I’m going to go back to bed.”

“We’ll be here for you when you wake up,” Meg calls out. “Remember that you’re home, Sophie. You’re finally home.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Pooh, promise you won’t forget about me, ever. Not even when I’m a hundred.

—A. A. Milne

I’m sitting on my chair for night duty, a job that each member of the Group takes turns doing. Even though I slept most of the day, and even though I begged everybody to let me have my turn tonight, by one o’clock in the morning I keep having to fight the urge to close my eyes. Every once in a while I bite down on the inside of my cheek, hard.
Show them you’re not too young to do this
.
Show them you’re not a stupid baby
. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I feel a surge of energy and sit up straighter. My heart beats quickly but I don’t know quite why. I can hear no sound outside our cabin, no sounds from inside other than the heavy breathing of the Group. Just as I’m about to lean back in my chair again, it happens. The front door starts to slowly open, just a crack.
Not on my watch
! I leap out of my chair and grab the weapon Noah carved out of a piece of wood. It feels heavy in my hands, almost too heavy for a twelve-year-old girl to use. With all of my might, I swing it low behind my shoulder, the way my big brother once taught me to do with a baseball bat. The door opens a crack more and my heart feels like it might burst through my skin and attack the intruder itself. I take a deep breath and then another, as the door opens even further and a face comes out from around the door. In my shock, I drop the weapon and scream. It’s a hairy face, full of beard and scruff, a barely recognizable face, the face of a ghost. And yet it’s also a face that I know better than the one I see in the mirror.
James
.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Up! Up! Up!
Up! Great day for Up! Wake every person, pig, and pup,
till everyone on Earth is up”

—Dr. Seuss

My brother opens
the door wide and I rush towards him, grabbing him around the neck. He lifts me up and swings me around, holding me close.
James
!

“But how? I thought you were dead?” I say, starting to cry. “It said you were dead! You had an End Date and everything!”

James puts me down and I grab him around the waist.
I’m not ready to let go
.

“It’s a long story, Soph,” he says. He wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “God, it’s so good to see you! I can’t believe how much you’ve grown!”

“You didn’t expect me to stay nine forever, did you?” I ask. “Because that’s the last time I saw you, you know.”

Suddenly there are footsteps behind us. “James?” Peter asks, walking closer. “What are you doing here?”

“When I heard Sophie was a part of this, I had to come,” my brother says, nodding at me. “I had to make sure she was okay, I had to see….” James starts to cry and covers his face with his hands. “When I thought something might have happened to my baby sister….”

“I’m okay, dummy!” I say, pulling his hands away from his face. “I’m right here! You’re the one who’s supposed to be dead, remember?”

James laughs and heads over to one of the sofas. I can’t stop looking at him, this young man who just so happens to be my brother. I hope that someone has a razor here, so he can cut off that beard and look like my James again.

“James!” says the oldest girl in the Group, entering the room. “You’re back! I thought you were up North!” She rushes over to my brother and sits down on his lap. He nuzzles her neck with his face and I look away, blushing.

“I was there, Amy, but I’m back for now.” He pauses and looks over at me. “I had to be sure Sophie was all right.”

Amy glances at me, her gaze unreadable. “That was a really dangerous move for you to make. What if someone had noticed you?”

“I had to do it,” James says. “How much does my baby sister know, anyway?”

“Enough,” says Peter. “Probably too much.”

“Shit,” James says. “I’ve always just wanted her and Hannah to be okay, to be safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, and now—”

“She’s tougher than you think,” says someone else, coming forward.
Noah
.

I look up at him and smile. “Yeah, I am,” I say.

“So I see,” my brother says, glancing towards Noah and then back at me.

Pretty soon all of the other members of the Group wake up and are in the main room, either talking to my brother or eating crackers from a box that someone pulled out of their knapsack. I watch as Meg meets James for the first time. From the look of shock on her face, I can tell that she had truly believed he’d been Ended, too. I sit down cross-legged on the floor and Noah comes over and sits down next to me. I feel my chest fill up with happiness as I look around at everyone.
This is what I tried to have at ISTJ with that party but could never get
.

After about an hour of catching up, my brother stretches and claps his hands together. “Okay, everybody, it’s time to be serious. For the first order of business, does anyone have the jewellery nippers?”

Peter goes into the other room and comes back with a small tool.

“Sophie, will you come here, please?” my brother asks.

I stand in front of James, not knowing what will happen next.

“Sit down, silly, I’m not going to bite.”

I sit next to my brother and he reaches around my neck and tugs at my necklace. After a second, the chain breaks and falls into my lap.

“Done,” he says. “You, my sis, are now free again.”

I hold up the necklace and notice for the first time that there’s a tiny screw behind the little bump.

“The tracking device,” James says. “I take it someone dismantled it before I could do the honours.”

I glance at Peter, who nods at me. I then look back at the piece of jewellery I once thought was so pretty, and throw it across the room.

Amy starts to clap and the others join her. I look down, feeling shy, and smile. I then get off the sofa and go sit back down next to Noah. Even though the necklace didn’t weigh much, I feel so much lighter now it’s gone.

“Okay, now for the second order of business. Folks, I think we all know it’s decision time.” James stops, as if he wants to pick his words very carefully. “Since I was here last I can see we have some new members, which is great. I also know we’ve now got at least two members in each Home School in our county, and in some of the bigger counties, we even have three or four.”

“Really?” I blurt out. “There’s some of…you guys at ISTJ?”

“Yes, in every Home School, in every county, at least in North America.”

“But in
my
ISTJ? Really?”

I glance questioningly at Noah and he nods. “Emily,” he whispers in my ear.

I’m about to say something when I notice that my brother is still talking. “So what we have to decide now is this: Are we going to wait in order to get more members and get more contact from the Groups in other counties, or are we going to take action now?”

“What are the disadvantages of waiting?” Meg asks.

My brother shrugs. “More people may get sent to each Harmony and risk going to Full. Once in Full, it’s damn hard to get out, as you know. It happened to me, it happened to little Taylor….”

I turn my head towards my friend, who’s lying slumped on the floor, the medication still not fully out of her system. “Taylor got sent to Harmony for being part of the Group?”

“Yes and no,” James says. “The Association doesn’t know we exist as an actual organization, and we want to keep it that way. If they just think we’re some belligerent kids who won’t toe the line, then we’ve got a chance to get bigger and actually make some change.”

“Oh.” I stop.

“I say we wait,” says Amy. “I know it’s risky, but we’re still too small.”

“I think we should get things started already,” says a boy who looks about sixteen. “I’m tired of waiting and waiting. Besides, more innocent kids who are already in Full will get Ended if we don’t do anything.”

“I agree with John,” Meg says. “Not only will more kids be sent to Harmony, but even more will get brainwashed by The Association if we keep waiting. Their numbers are only going to keep growing and then what?”

“I say we wait,” says Peter. “Give it another few weeks, maybe a month. If we jump in too quickly, it could mean trouble.”

“What did the Group up North say?” Noah asks.

“They’re ready whenever we say go,” says James.

“Then that’s what we should say.”

“It sounds like we need a vote,” James says. “Those in favour of waiting, raise their right hand.” About half the kids put up an arm. “Those in favour of getting Phase A of the plan started, raise their hand.” The rest of the kids raise their hands, including my brother and a now-awake Taylor.

“Sophie?” James asks. “What’s your vote?”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t put up your hand.” He looks at me. “Do you think we should begin our plan to put a stop to Typing, or do you think we should keep waiting?”

“I didn’t know I could vote,” I say. I bite my thumbnail, feeling like a little kid.

“If you want to be a part of the Group, if you really want to go through with this, then you get a vote.” My brother smiles at me. “Do you want me to go over the plan with you first? It’s pretty detailed, but you should definitely know what you’re voting for.”

I look at James. “Do you believe in it?” I ask.

He nods. “Definitely.”

I glance at Meg. “Do you think the plan is good?” I ask her. “I mean, could it help people like Thomas?”

“The boy with autism? Yes, I do.”

I then turn towards Noah. “And what about you? Do you think this plan could work?”

Noah picks up my hand and squeezes it, once, twice. “Yeah, little girl, I do.”

I close my eyes for a moment and think of my parents the way I last saw them, with my mother screaming for me to run and my father trying to stop me.
Trying to stop us
. Images of Dr. Witmer and Dr. Anders fill my mind, as well as Thomas and his piece of string. I think of Emily, both the girl I thought I knew and the girl she must have been hiding under those big dimples all of this time. I think of my brother, once lost, now found. I think of Aaron, who may be gone from me forever. And finally I think of Noah, a boy who somehow rescued me, just like I somehow rescued him. I open my eyes and slowly raise my hand.

“Let’s do it,” I say.

PART TWO

CHAPTER ONE

You are talking to a man who has laughed in the face of death, sneered at doom and chuckled at catastrophe.

—L. Frank Baum

When I wake
up, I feel like I’ve had my first real sleep in months.
That’s what seeing your brother again after three years does to a girl!
I glance around the room, which looks more like a place to hold a gigantic sleepover than one of the rooms used by a group of messed up kids trying to stop a so-called evil organization of Psychologists. I like how everyone here just falls asleep wherever they want, flopping down on this futon one night, and that one the next. In this room, it doesn’t matter if you’re an Intro or an Extra, if you went to ENFP or to ISTJ. Here, the rules don’t apply.

I slowly stretch and then stand up, still wearing my jogging pants and t-shirt uniform from Harmony. I pull my hair back into a ponytail and then go into the main room, where everyone else is eating lunch.

“I thought you’d never wake up,” Taylor calls out from the table. “Last night you seemed more wiped out than me, and I’ve been on those zombie pills!”

“Give the little girl a break,” Noah says, finishing a banana. He stands up, offering me his spot. “Your chair, mademoiselle?”

I stick my tongue out at him but then sit down. I suddenly realize that I’m even more starving than I was the day before.

Peter passes me a basket filled with bread and I grab a slice. I slather peanut butter and honey on it and finish it in a few bites. Nothing has ever tasted better. I take another piece and fold it over.
Delicious
.

“Is this food all from that guy Noah told me about?” I ask, my mouth full of sandwich.

“Him and a few others,” Meg says. She pours a glass of juice and then hands the cup to me.

I focus back on eating, too hungry to even wonder where my brother might be. After two more peanut butter and honey slices, I finally look up from my plate. “Where’s James?” I ask.

“Waiting for you, Squirt,” he says, coming in from outside. He stands by the door, still in his jacket. “All done with your afternoon repast?”

I nod and wipe my mouth with my arm.

“Good, because it’s time we got caught up,” he says, gesturing me to the door.

Meg tosses me her sweater and I get up to follow James. In the daylight the woods looks brighter than last night, but also more exposed. As I walk beside my brother, I keep hearing noises all around me. I turn my head one way to see a squirrel race across the ground, then turn my head the other way to watch a small bird land on a branch.

“Can we maybe head back?” I ask James, my voice small. “I’m not feeling that safe out here.”

James stops walking and faces me. “I know this all seems scary, but no one is going to find us here. You’re as safe out of the cabin as in it. Trust me, okay?”

I look away, trying to focus on my breathing. While I understand there aren’t any people for miles, I can’t help thinking if we stay out here one of us will be snatched away at any moment. That
James
will be snatched away.

“Okay,” I say. I follow my brother for a few more minutes, until we get to an old tree that must have fallen over years ago. It has moss growing all over it. James sits down and gestures for me to sit next to him.

“This is probably my favourite spot,” he says. He turns his face up to the sky and points towards the canopy. “See right there, at the opening between those branches? That’s where the sun gets through.” He smiles, then looks at me. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he says.

“Yeah, me too.” My breathing is normal again, but my heart is still beating too fast.
I’m just a kid. I’m not ready for all of this
.

“So….”

“So….” I answer.

“I wanted to explain a bit about what’s happened since I last saw you. It’s been over three years, right?”

I nod. “You were home from school for a weekend when I was nine, and that’s the last time I saw you. I remember Dad saying you had gotten sick and had been sent somewhere to get better.” At the thought of my father, I feel tears threatening. “I never knew about Harmony; I always thought you were at a hospital or something. Later, we started getting letters from your interventionist, saying how you were doing.”

James nods. “Ah yes, good ol’ Marcus.”

“Marcus?”

“My so-called interventionist in Full. Do you know the only intervention I received was massive amounts of tranquilizers to
calm me down,
as well as monthly meetings with the Head Psychologist to see if I had changed my ways?” James lets out a snort. The sound is loud and sharp and seems to bounce off the trees, as if it’s trapped in a pinball machine.

“But didn’t they go through the whole Treatment Protocol with you first? The relaxation training and the cognitive restructuring stuff and all of the one-on-one therapy? That’s what I got in Temporary.”

James shakes his head. “I was never in Temporary, Soph,” he says. “I was shipped right off to Full as soon as Dad found out I was starting an uprising at ENTJ.”

“You started an uprising?” A sudden image of James standing on a table in a dining hall and shouting at students flashes through my mind.

“I wish I’d started an uprising, but sadly I did not.” James picks up a nearby twig and begins peeling off its bark. “What I did do was refuse an offer of admission to the Departmental Academy. There was this stupid assembly for all the Last Years and the Dean called about ten people to the stage to accept their offer. When it was my turn, I wouldn’t get out of my seat. Dad was sitting with a few other Psychologists on the stage, too, and I guess I humiliated him in front of his cronies.” He snorts again.

“You said no to going to the Departmental Academy?” I ask. “But I remember when you were younger telling me that all you wanted to be was a Psychologist, like Dad!”

James shrugs. “By Last Year I’d seen enough to know Typology wasn’t for me, that the original personality theory the system is based on has been used to control people rather than to truly help them.” He shrugs again. “After the assembly, Dad marched me right into the Dean’s office and tried to convince me to accept the offer, to tell the entire student body that I had been confused and that I actually would be highly honoured to have such a wonderful opportunity given to me.” James’ voice cracks and he breaks the twig in two. “When I refused again, we got into this huge fight. I said some things I shouldn’t have, but I don’t regret them. I guess to save face Dad told the Dean I was clearly suffering from some sort of psychotic break involving delusional thinking and that I needed to be sent to Full.”

“Wow,” I whisper. “Oh wow.”

“Yep, wow.” James picks up another twig and throws it. I can tell where it lands because a few birds suddenly flutter up from the forest floor.

I reach over and take my brother’s hand. It feels cold, too cold.

“If I give Dad the benefit of the doubt, then I think he just wanted to teach me a lesson at first. Have me spend some time in Full to scare me enough that I’d realize the error of my ways and then ship me back to ENTJ, miraculously cured. I guess things didn’t go as planned, huh?”

“So what happened once you got to Harmony?”

“I didn’t play by their rules. I talked to other kids there about what had happened to me. I told them to cheek their meds, because I could tell that many of them were there for the same reason I was, not because they needed real treatment but because they needed to shut the hell up!” He pauses. “When I learned some of the hopeless cases were getting Ended, I talked louder. That’s when they started giving me my meds by injection.”

I squeeze my brother’s hand between both of mine, to try and give some of my warmth to him.

“After that, things got harder. When I was on those tranquilizers it was like I was walking through jelly, you know? My legs were heavy, my arms were heavy, my brain was slowed down. I think at that point Dad thought he had won.” He shakes his head. “I guess he hadn’t counted on me being so damn stubborn.”

“What did you do?”

“I started to figure out when it was in the day that my mind was the most clear. They gave me my injection every morning, so usually around dinner-time it had worn off enough for me to be myself again, at least a little bit. One night I got some of the kids together to plan an escape. My plan would have worked, too, if one of them hadn’t gotten scared and blabbed to their interventionist.” He looks at me. “That’s when The Association decided the only solution was Ending me.” I watch as his eyes narrow, until they’re thin slits of blue, his gaze as cold as his hands. “They informed Dad of everything that had happened and their decision. He didn’t disagree.”

“Oh, James,” I whisper. I hold his hand tighter between mine.

“Marcus was the one who was supposed to deliver the goods, but when it came time to give me the needle, he couldn’t go through with it. Turns out he’d never had to End anyone before. He never even knew it was part of the job description until he was in too deep.”

“So why didn’t he just quit?”

James laughs, the sound as raspy as a cough. “Let’s just say that resigning isn’t an option when you’re an interventionist. Marcus was a pretty good guy, actually, liked to chat sometimes.” He laughs again. “Pretty damn cocky of The Association to assume they’re so powerful everyone will automatically follow their orders, even if it means killing someone!” James pulls his hand away from mine and suddenly stands up. “Anyway, he helped me escape that night, made me promise I would disappear and that I wouldn’t cause any problems for him.”

“But didn’t anyone wonder why there was no body? I mean, wouldn’t he have to show proof that the Ending happened?” I try to wrap my mind around what I’m being told but nothing makes sense.

“Let’s just say I figured out the coroner was in on the take and convinced Marcus of that, too.”

“In on the take?”

“Someone willing to bend the rules for money.” My brother looks at me. “It doesn’t take a genius to know that parents aren’t being told the truth about how their kids died. So either the coroner was getting bribed to tell families the cause was natural or he was being threatened to lie.”

“So did Marcus bribe him, too?”

“Blackmailed is more like it,” he says. “Claimed he’d already told an outside source what was happening and if anything happened to me or to him, the world would know what was really going on in Full.”

“Marcus sounds brave,” I say.

James opens his mouth to answer, but then shakes his head instead. “I think it’s time we got back to the cabin.”

“But….” I stay sitting. There’s so much I want to ask my brother but I can feel him moving away from me, even though he hasn’t taken one step.

“I can’t talk anymore about this, okay?” he says, his voice gentler once more. “Besides, I think I’ve given you enough to process for now.”

“Okay,” I say. I stand up and wipe off the back of my jogging pants, now damp from the moss.

“It’s so good to have you back, Squirt,” he says, taking my hand again. His is now warm, his grip firm. Hand in hand we walk back to the cabin, the only sounds coming from our footsteps and the animals in the forest.
I’m home
.

CHAPTER TWO

You can’t eat the orange and throw the peel away – a man is not a piece of fruit.

—Arthur Miller

“Remember how I
told you the kids from ENTJ and INTJ are the ones who get picked for the Departmental Academy and get special privileges?” Noah asks me as we clean up the dishes.

“Yeah?”

“Well, they’re not the only ones who get treated differently.”

“I already know about all the parties and the dances the different Extra Home Schools get,” I say, passing him a plate to dry. “Why do you keep saying stuff to try and get me all worked up?”

“I’m not trying to get you worked up, little girl, I’m trying to make you knowledgeable. There’s a big difference between the two,” Noah says, his voice low. “Besides, I was talking more about what goes on at ISTP.”

“What about ISTP?”

“That’s where The Association gets its soldiers,” Noah says. He picks up a handful of spoons from the rack and starts to dry each one carefully, as if he were handling something fragile.

“Their soldiers? Why would they need soldiers?” A shiver goes up and down my spine. “I was always told that since Typology was instituted across most of the world, the need for armies has been really low.”

“That may be true for outside threats, but what about the threats that come from the inside? What about people like us?”

“My dad never talked about there being kids trained as soldiers. Never.” I shiver again, despite myself.
How much more do I not know
?

Noah lowers his voice even more. “Ever hear of the Elite Academy?” I shake my head. “That’s where they train the ones they choose to become
good warriors
. That’s actually what they get called—good warriors!” He smirks, then picks up a cup. “But even before getting chosen for the Academy, a lot of the kids at ISTP are trained, just in case. The Deans are on the lookout at ISTJ, too. It’s kind of genius, if you think about it. The Association knows these are the kids whose personality makes them put duty and order above everything else, or else are proud of their ability as a soldier. There’s a sick brilliance to it, actually. Getting little kids like you all pumped up to learn the joys of battle!”

I flick some suds at Noah. “I’m
not
a little kid! You take that back!”

He flicks his towel at me and I pick up an even bigger handful of suds. Pretty soon we’re soaked, with soap bubbles in our hair.

“Um, kids, can you maybe take it down a notch so we can start the meeting?” Amy says, coming into the kitchen area.

Noah looks at me and grins. “Yeah, kid, do you think you can do that?”

I stick out my tongue, but grab another towel to start and mop up the mess we made, happy Noah and I are still Noah and me, despite being runaways in a cabin. It’s only after the dishes are all done and we are sitting cross-legged in a circle with the others that our recent conversation starts to bother me.
Soldiers? For the Association
?

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