I Become Shadow (10 page)

I stared up at the ceiling as I tried to work through how I’d ended up here. It was all very fuzzy after the car chase. Too groggy to think, I rolled over to go back to sleep. When the side of my head brushed the pillow a sudden pain under my ear triggered my memory and it all came back. A flash of Junie being beaten, pleading with me to run.

I shot out of bed and ripped open the curtains to my left. A startled girl nursing a broken arm jumped.

“Sorry,” I said as I closed them. I stumbled around my bed and whipped the other curtains open.

Oh, Junie …
He was a mess. Both of his eyes were swollen shut, and he had a four-inch cut stitched-up above his ear. He stirred.

I sat on the edge of his bed and grabbed his hand. He gave a quiet groan through his swollen, cracked lips.

“It’s me, Ren,” I said softly. “I’m here. It’s okay.” I gently
stroked his hand with my thumb like my mother had done to me when I was a kid. His hand squeezed mine back.

“You okay?” he forced out. His voice sounded like sandpaper.

“I’m fine,” I reassured him. “Shhh. Rest.”

“How bad is it?” he asked me.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Ren,” he pushed.

“You look like you shoved your head in a beehive,” I said, attempting to lighten the mood.

He managed a pained chuckle. “Ow. Don’t make me laugh. Nothing’s broken though, right?”

I looked him over. “Not that I can tell.”

“Well, at least I got that going for me.”

His breathing was labored, but steady. I thought he’d dozed off but a tear came out of his left eye. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he croaked. His voice was so soft I had to strain to hear it. More tears followed.

“You can’t say that,” I said, more frightened than I wanted to admit. “Not you. If you don’t think
you
can, then what about me?”

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “There’s more to you than you give yourself credit for.”

“There isn’t, trust me. It’s less if anything.” I was crying now too.

“I’m just big and dumb.”

“No, you’re not. You’re smarter than you think. And you’re braver than all of us.”

“All an act,” he whispered, refusing to open his eyes. “I’m as scared as the rest of you.”

“You tried to save me,” I argued back.

“That’s ’cause it’s you, Ren. I …” He didn’t finish.

“We’re going to get through this together, okay?” I whispered back, trying to keep my voice from shaking. His last unfinished comment had torpedoed me.

His eyes fluttered open. “Only if you promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“The next time I tell you, ‘Please go,’ do it. I don’t care what happens to me. But seeing you get hurt is worse than anything they can do to me.”

I shook my head. “No, I can’t promise that. I can’t let you get hurt protecting me. I won’t do it.”

He took a deep labored breath. More tears. He closed his eyes again.

“I’ll give you that one,” I said, caving. “But you have to give me one too. We can each say it once, and the other has do it.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” He forced a pained grin. “Now, please go.”

“Hey!” I said loudly.

“Shhh, oh, ow,” he painfully laughed out. He opened his left eye a slit and looked at me. “Kidding. Will you stay with me for a while?”

“As long as you want.”

He squeezed my hand again, eyes still closed

AN HOUR LATER NOT-BETH
arrived with a tray of shots.

“No,” I said to her seriously.

She pursed her lips. I knew it was not her decision,
just her job, but I still had to try to stop her. “It’ll happen one way or another,” she said. Then she flicked her head behind her toward two guards at the far end of the hospital wing.

I gave a defeated nod, so she moved closer.

“Wait.” I walked over to my bed and began to drag it over next to Junie’s. All at once, it rose from the floor. I looked up and saw Not-Beth helping me.

Junie and I held hands as Not-Beth did her job and left us to suffer through the night together.

Twenty-two days. I was officially twenty-two days into my stay. I knew this because I had started marking my walls like that prisoner in
The Count of Monte Cristo
. Curled up in bed I was staring at the four sets of five and two lone rangers. Twenty-two. I rolled over to face the door. It felt like I’d been there for at least a year, but the dashes didn’t lie. Unless someone was sneaking into my room and erasing them while I was training. That would be cruel but sort of funny too. This place was like that.

I zombie-swung myself out of bed and lazily put on my yellows. I was sore all over and not just from the dose of fire the night before. Three weeks of grueling training left more than bruises. My bones hurt.

Fully dressed, I pressed the button on my desk that would deliver my piping hot bowl of gruel breakfast. From inside a small nook on the back of the desk I pulled out my secret stash. From the nurses in the hospital wing, I
had been overloaded with cinnamon and rosemary. I’d also smuggled out some sugar, salt, pepper, and a few grated Parmesan cheese packets. Feeling adventurous, I added one of the packets to the steaming slop. It didn’t do much good.

No sooner had I put my licked-clean bowl back in the drawer than my door opened with a
bing
. Time to boogie.

I glanced at the day’s schedule on my desktop to see what was first.
Camouflage
. I groaned. We’d done this last week. It was fun at first, but then extremely painful.

Allow me to explain: An immensely large room had been transformed into a near perfect recreation of a desert landscape. Sand, scrub brushes, mini rock hills, saguaro cactus … es? Or is it cacti? (Grammar and spelling weren’t high on FATE’s agenda.) Whatever, you get the idea. It was even kept at a balmy hundred degrees. We were given thirty minutes of instruction on desert camouflage techniques and then another thirty minutes to camo up and hide.

Cole then hunted us down with a pistol, shooting us with rubber bullets when he found us. Big surprise; he found me first and shot me square in the neck. I looked like I had gotten a hickey from a fire hose all week.

I had a theory that he could literally smell me. I felt it had merit given my history with him. Junie was quick to point out that painting myself green and trying to be a cactus was an awful decision. Funny, yes, but awful. But Junie was wrong, dead wrong. I was a really still fake cactus and totally blended in. Cole had sniffed me out, and I refused to believe otherwise. This morning’s class would be more of the same.

Junie and the rest of my team all gathered together in our hallway before heading out as one. We passed other groups all heading in different directions to different classes. No words were exchanged aside from an occasional head nod. I really wanted to organize some sort of
West Side Story
snap-off with another group but what do you know? I had yet to find the time. It was on my to-do list though.

We were led by our friendly wall lights to a new room for camo class. I instinctively rubbed my neck. The hickey bruise was only now starting to fade. The doors slid open, and a blast of sticky, wet air assaulted me.

As with most rooms in the training center, the front part was dedicated to instruction and learning—tables spread out evenly—but beyond that it was simply … beautiful. My eyes feasted on a jungle, a real jungle. The rubber floor of the teaching area gave way to a small grassy meadow about twenty yards deep. After the meadow it was a solid wall of towering trees of all types, bushes, and size-of-your-arm vines. There was even a pretty big creek that snaked its way through the middle of it all. A crack of thunder boomed from above, and rain, actual rain, began to fall. Something
screeched
. I spotted a monkey swinging in the branches trying to avoid the rain.

I heard a few gasps. We practically fought to get inside and up to the edge of the grass. Thoughts of Cole and his rubber bullets vanished.

Movement to my right caught my eye. Had that bush moved? To my left, the branches of a tree were swinging, but there wasn’t any breeze.

As if on cue, five figures materialized out of the foliage, as if from nowhere, as if the jungle had come to life before our eyes. One had literally been lying not ten feet in front of me. I wasn’t the only one who jumped when he stood.

“Change of plans today,” came the whiny voice behind us. “Eyes on me, children.”

We turned. Cole was sitting on a bench cleaning out his fingernails with the point of a large knife looking, dare I say, giddy. It was unsettling. I glanced back. In my peripheral I could barely make out the jungle ghosts cleaning the mud, paint, and leaves off of their bodies and out of their hair.

“As you can see, we have guests today. Special guests with a special treat. Today, you have been chosen to participate in a time-honored tradition here at FATE. Today you will be taking part in The Hunt. May I introduce you to the Hunters.” He nodded and stood, indicating we could turn.

The room filled with a cacophony of excited whispers and gasps from my peers. Only the absolute best of the best were chosen as Hunters instead of Shadows. Once we were out of here, if we ever decided to run, or break any of the FATE Center’s rules, we would be targeted for extermination by the Hunters. Only a killing machine can bring down another, you know? They were legends. Or nightmares, depending on your point of view. They never failed. They were awesome.

A tall, thin man with shoulder-length brown hair walked over and clasped his hands in front of him like a priest. His movements were graceful, like a dancer’s. He was young, late twenties maybe, and eyed us all curiously with the
faint hint of a smile. The other Hunters soon joined their leader. They were an interesting group. Two of them were massive, almost a parody of comic-book bad guys: rippled muscles and scowls. Then there was a smaller, stocky guy with a shaved head and grey eyes that looked through you. He looked bored, which was somehow scarier. And finally there was a woman. She was tall and thin and if she ever smiled she might be called beautiful. Her eyes were black, as if they were all pupil. For a second I wondered seriously if she was some kind of robot.

“I want to thank you all for participating in this,” said the leader. “My name is Luka.” His voice was soft, and he spoke with some sort of accent—Russian or Eastern European if I’d had to guess, but it could have been anywhere. “I will keep this simple. You will have two minutes to run—”

“One minute,” corrected Cole.

Luka turned toward Cole and said coolly, “Two.”

I held my breath. You did not question Cole. The look Luka gave him made even me shiver. Cole lowered his eyes and didn’t protest.

Luka turned back to us. “Apologies for the interruption.” His formality was creepy. He spoke as if he were some kind of living relic from a forgotten age. “You will have two minutes to run. After that time we will come after you. When we catch you, you will return to your room. If you escape, you are free.”

The word “free” echoed in my brain. Had I heard that right?
Free? Like, free, free? Like go back home free?

As if reading our collective minds, Luka nodded. “Yes, truly free. We want you to try as best you can to evade us so
the stakes must be worth it. All doors are unlocked, no one but us will try to stop you. You have my word that should you manage to escape no one will come looking for you.”

Granted, I didn’t know the guy, but his word seemed pretty legit. It could frighten Cole, at least. That was good enough for me.

Not one to let us dream, Cole added, “Has anyone ever escaped?”

“Not as of yet,” Luka answered. “But there will always be a first.”

Nobody said a word. My heart pounded.

“Well,” said Cole. Then he yelled, “Run!”

Like scattering birds we exploded into flight. It was a mad dash to the exit and out into the hallways. Half went one way and half went the other. The pattern continued at each intersection until it was just Junie and me—alone sprinting through the corridors together.

Had it been two minutes yet? Had anyone been caught already? There was no time to stop and think.

“This way,” Junie said. He crashed through a door that had never been unlocked before. I’d tried it a few times out of curiosity but it had never budged. There must have been a reason to keep it locked, and there must be a reason it was unlocked now. But I shoved the thought aside. Stairs. And they only led up. One flight. Two flights. Higher and higher … Our legs burned and our lungs ached for air when we reached the top, twenty-five flights later.

The corridor we entered was nothing like the ones below. It was carpeted, well-lit. It looked like a nice office building instead of our prison. There was no time to
think. We kept on running, barreling into some surprised-looking people in business suits.

Real people? Here?
We found ourselves looking at them like they were some exotic creatures at a zoo. To be fair they looked at us exactly the same way. My heart leapt. Could it be that FATE had made a mistake? We were close. I could feel it. I could smell it. No really, the air was cleaner up here, fresher. There were doors to the outside somewhere close.

I heard yelling from behind us and turned. My heart sank. The female Hunter was closing fast.

“She can only follow one of us,” was all Junie said before he took off to the left. I went right running as fast as I could, but stumbled every time I looked behind me. The Hunter went after Junie without hesitation. He was the bigger threat.

I ran and ran, trusting my gut, trusting my senses. Finally, I turned down a hallway, and my heart jumped. There were double doors at the end: thick, with two small, blacked-out windows.

If there had been a giant cliff through those doors I would have fallen to my death. I flew out of them without pausing and into the most beautiful thing I’d seen in weeks. The woods. The sky overhead, visible through the trees. Clouds. Sunlight.

This was no illusion. This was no room done up to look the part. No, this was real. I was really outside. To my left and right a sidewalk hugged the building’s wall—vast, seemingly endless in both directions. I had grown up in the woods. This was home, this was my domain.