Mechanical (16 page)

I leaned against the wall and slid down to a
sitting position to look through the papers. The girl, Beatrix,
smiled up at me, her green eyes shining and her red hair seeming to
glow. Yep, I knew her. Who could miss a tangle of hair like that?
We never talked much, though.

You just have to play it right to get what
you want,
Yvonne’s voice sounded in my mind. I stared down at
the face of Beatrix. What did I want? I knew what I didn’t want. I
didn’t want to send Beatrix to a fate like the others. I stared at
her, thinking hard.

They wouldn’t know it was me,
I told
myself.

It wasn’t the best of ideas and it wasn’t
exactly fool proof, but it was what I had come up with and I wasn’t
sure if I could live with any alternative. Would being shut off be
worse than the heart wrenching guilt I was destined to face if I
went through with Glen’s plan? I stared down at the picture.
No.

I wouldn’t let them take Beatrix. I wouldn’t
let her die inside like the others.

Chapter Thirty-Two

As I saw Beatrix come into view, my stomach
flip-flopped. I was really going to do this. I was really going to
help her get away. I was betraying everything I had ever known to
save this girl. And most of me didn’t understand why.

“Hi Drew,” Beatrix said in her usual, sunny
voice. Her hair was pulled back by a headband, but still wild and
curly. “You ready to go?”

“Yep,” I answered and we headed down the
street I had walked so many times with the other Institution
victims. With every step we took, I became more and more anxious. I
had lured Beatrix with yet another story about a lost item that I
had at my house and she had eagerly agreed to walk with me to
retrieve it.

I had thought a lot about how I was going to
do this and decided that I needed to get her to the Institution
first, then help her escape. The creators needed to see me doing
what they wanted me to do. It was risky for her, but risky for me
also. But if the plan worked, I would have successfully found a way
to save us both.

“I love your hairclip,” Beatrix told me,
looking closely at the flower clip in my hair. It was one Jessica
had given me and forced me to wear, proclaiming how well it went
with my coloring.

“Thanks,” I replied, noticing it seemed just
her style. Beatrix was wearing a colorful skirt and T-shirt,
fashionable sandals and hair accessories. I remember Jessica
commenting on Beatrix’s clothing multiple times, saying that
Beatrix was most likely the only one who could successfully pull
off her special look.

“You know,” Beatrix commented, “you seem a
little jumpy. Are you okay?”

“Oh.” Did I? “I’m fine,” I lied and smiled,
willing myself to calm down.

Beatrix talked nonstop as we walked. She just
went on and on about anything that seemed to cross her mind. It
didn’t bother me. In fact, I enjoyed talking to her. She was fun to
be around, but with each passing moment, my enjoyment of her
company was slowly being replaced by anxiety.

I really liked her. Too bad our friendship
had to end before we could even get a chance to become friends.
There was no way Beatrix could go back to the school. They would
only take her away again and I would get in trouble. I wondered
where she would go, what she would do.

When I saw the Institution, my heart sped up
and I felt a surge of adrenaline rush through me with equal amounts
of fear. As we walked through the doors, I sped up a little, trying
to make it seem urgent. “Hey,” I called to a creator in the hallway
walking towards us. “I saw smoke! What if there’s a fire?” I nearly
shrieked, trying to feign hysteria.

The creator looked scared, not even glancing
in Beatrix’s direction, and ran from the room to get help. I felt
slightly sorry for him since he was most likely to be the recipient
for Glen’s anger later on.

Beatrix gave me a startled look, but I
grabbed her arm and pulled her down the corridor once the creator
was gone.

“I didn’t see any smoke,” she squeaked.

“Listen to me,” I whispered, pulling her into
one of the empty rooms and shutting the door behind me. “They’re
going to do something to you. I don’t know what, but please believe
me when I tell you it isn’t good. I’ve been bringing people here
because they force me to and every time I see them walk out,
something’s different about them,” I told her. Part of my mind
chanted to stop talking, that I was disclosing too much, but for
some reason, everything came tumbling out.

Beatrix stared at me in shock and fear,
probably thinking I was insane and this place was my asylum.

“We need to get you out of here. You can’t go
back to the school, though. If you do, they’ll know I helped you
out and they’ll ...” Shut me off? I didn’t want to overload her
with
too
much information. “... kill me,” I decided on.

Beatrix’s eyes widened.

“You need to get out of here, get out of this
town. Leave as fast as you can,” I said urgently.

Her eyebrows knitted together in a frown. She
opened her mouth as if to protest, to demand that I was only
joking, but then we heard voices and immediately went silent.

After a moment, I opened the door and once I
confirmed that nobody was in the immediate vicinity, I shot out
into the hallway with Beatrix in tow. We ran down the corridor, my
pulse hammering and I wondered how much anxiety my synthetic heart
could take. A lot, I hoped.

We ran down the hallway and I prayed that
nobody would come walking our way and see us. If they did, I could
probably still get Beatrix out of the building ... but the future
wouldn’t be too bright for me.

Within minutes, I spotted the back door. I
had gone out that way many times to empty trash or play tag outside
with Yvonne when we were younger.

I shoved open the door and ushered Beatrix
outside. “Run,” I told her. “Get as far away from here as fast as
you can.”

She looked at me, her eyes a mixture of too
many emotions to count—fear, suspicion, shock.

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” I
whispered.

“I’m sorry this happened to you, too,” she
said, “and I hope you, too, can get away someday.” And with a flash
of red hair, she was gone.

Chapter Thirty-Three

The door to my room burst open. Glen stood in
the dim light.

“Hi,” I said, getting up from where I was
sitting. I picked up a toaster and a blackened piece of toast from
the table. “Yvonne burned her toast. I saw the smoke outside the
window and jumped to conclusions,” I confessed. “I’m sorry to get
you guys all excited about nothing.” I displayed my best apologetic
look, wishing with all of my might that he would believe my
lie.

Especially considering that Yvonne didn’t
eat.

“I guess it's better to be safe than sorry.”
I flashed him a guilty smile.

Glen shook his head. “It’s fine. What
concerns us now is Beatrix's whereabouts.”

I have him a confused look. “Beatrix? You
guys took her back to ... well wherever you take them,” I said,
surprised at how sure I sounded.

Glen’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t take
her.”

I stood there for a second trying to look
thoughtful. “No, it wasn’t you it was ... hmmm ... I don’t know his
name. He must be new or something ‘cause I haven’t seen him
before,” I fabricated a new lie.

Glen’s frown darkened. “New? There’s no one
new here. We’ve checked everyone and everywhere for her.”

I frowned also, faking a concerned look.
“Then who did I give her to?” I nearly whispered, hoping to sound
as if this was a total catastrophe.

Glen cursed. “Someone knows what we’re
doing,” he muttered under his breath, storming from the room.

I let out a sigh of relief. They didn’t
suspect me. At least, not yet.

Later that day Glen hunted me down. At first,
I suspected he meant to accuse me of helping Beatrix, but then
found out, to my relief, that he had another person for me to bring
in. But again, this was going to be a challenge. I couldn’t use the
same technique I had used with Beatrix. They would know it was me
in an instant. I would have to think up some other way.

* * * *

Samantha Moore was a pretty girl in my
Science class who usually sat at the back of the room and talked to
no one. She was quiet and somewhat odd. She could have been popular
in a second if she wanted to. With her stunning good looks, she
would have been accepted into any clique or group she desired, but
instead she preferred to be alone. She was an outcast by
choice.

I was surprised she agreed to walk with me
after school. I had expected her to refuse to even talk to me, but
half way through my sentence she had jumped on it, like she had
been waiting for me to ask.

She walked outside with me, her gaze focused
on the ground in front of her and when I smiled at her, she didn’t
seem to notice. Her attention was riveted on the grass upon which
we were walking.

“So Samantha,” I said, trying to lessen the
air of awkwardness surrounding us. “Do you like ... school?” I
asked lamely.

She shrugged and didn’t say anything.

We walked in silence for at least five
minutes and all I could hear was the quiet tapping of our shoes
against the pavement. I was almost afraid to breathe, as if it
might break whatever spell we were under. I kept sending frequent
glances in her direction, all the while wondering why she had so
readily agreed to walk with me. Her silence unnerved me.

Suddenly I heard Samantha’s voice. “I know
where you’re taking me,” she said quietly.

I looked over at her, startled. “Yeah. Um,
I’m taking you to my house so I can give you the math book you
lost,” I replied uncertainly.

She looked up at me. It was the first time
she had garnered the nerve to meet my gaze. Her eyes were dark, not
in color but in meaning and depth. They watched me hungrily. “No. I
mean I know where you’re
really
taking me.” Her voice was
monotone but seemed strangely excited.

“Then you must know that we need to get you
out of there as fast as possible,” I said, deciding to take the
chance that she knew what she claimed she knew. There was a limited
amount of time left and I had to start taking risks.

Samantha’s expression fell a little. “No.”
She shook her head.

I was starting to get panicky. “No, you don’t
understand. They ... they’ll do something to you ... change you.
They take things from you ... they’re using you for terrible
things,” I told her, noticing the Institution was coming into
view.

Samantha smiled and nodded. “I know.”

“Then you have to get out of there! Get
away!” I cried.

Samantha had started walking faster and I
noticed we were very close to the Institution steps.

I grabbed her arm. “Listen to me,” I hissed.
“You can’t willingly go in there, knowing what they're going to do
to you,” I told her, wondering how she found out and why she would
ever want to go through with it.

Samantha smiled creepily. “I want to be
perfect,” she whispered, and I stared at her in horror, a million
thoughts blaring through my head. She thought they were going to
make her like ... me, like the other androids. I opened my mouth to
tell her something, anything, but before I could even utter a
sound, she turned and ran up the Institution steps.

My stomach dropped as I watched Samantha run
through the doors like she was a child at a candy shop. My head
hurt, wishing I could do anything to stop her, but knowing that I
couldn’t help her if she didn't want to cooperate. I simply ran
after her and watched, my jaw dropping as she eagerly followed the
creators to the back room.

Regardless, I still felt like it was my
fault.

Even though some of the creators had patted
me on the back, telling me I had done a good job, I knew in my
heart that I had failed. I had failed Samantha and in a way, I had
failed myself.

* * * *

I walked briskly down the hallway at school,
acutely aware of the fact that Michael had spotted me and was
heading determinedly my way.

“Drew!” I heard him call. I sped up. “Drew,
wait up!”

I started jogging faster and turned my head,
briefly, to glance at him but just as I twisted back, I bumped into
something hard and tall—a door. I stepped back, rubbing my head
just as Michael appeared beside me. “Ouch.” He gave a small laugh.
“So what’s up? I haven’t seen you in like ... forever.”

I groaned inwardly and shrugged.

“It almost seems as if you’re avoiding me,”
he said slowly, giving me a look saying he knew that was exactly
the case.

Wow. It took him
that
long to realize
it?
Yes Michael, I’ve been avoiding you,
I felt like saying,
but bit my tongue. As much as I wanted to hurt his feelings for
breaking my heart, I didn’t exactly think it was the right thing to
do. I only said, “Huh,” and moved on, leaving Michael staring after
me as I walked down the hall.

The image of Michael’s hurt face came to mind
and my heart panged. He had looked really upset. And lonely.

Whatever. He had
Yvonne
. And Yvonne
had him. It still hurt my stomach to think about the two of
them.

Jessica met me in the hallway and we talked
briefly for the few moments it took to make it to our lockers

“So, Michael’s been asking me all kinds of
questions about you. Like why you won’t talk to him,” she said
slowly, eyeing me to gauge my reaction.

I groaned, yanking open my locker and hearing
a tiny crack. My anger dissolved as fear replaced it and I leaned
forward to inspect what I’d done. Jessica didn’t seem to notice the
broken upper hinge of my locker and I slung my sweater over the top
to hide it.

“I didn’t tell him anything. I wasn’t sure if
you wanted me to,” Jessica went on. “But believe me, if you want I
can totally yell at him for what he did to you.”