Mechanical (18 page)

He gave me a weird look. “Uh, Yeah.”

“Oh. Huh, well, why don’t you walk this way?
I’m sure there’s a short cut back to your house once you walk far
enough.” My voice sounded nervous.
Ugh, shut up Drew,
I told
myself, knowing how stupid I sounded.

He stared at me. “Um, no I’m fine.”

“Well, I have no one to walk with ...” I
smiled.

He gave me a strange look. “You want me to
walk with you,” he said slowly.

I nodded. Wow. Throwing myself at a guy just
so he could be attacked by my creators and then bailed out by me
later? Great. No, actually pathetic.

He stood there for a moment. “Don’t you have
a boyfriend or something?”

I frowned. “No.”

“That Michael guy?” Jason asked. “Ring any
bells?”

Yes, it did, but I didn’t want to hear them.
“No, we’re not dating. Never were,” I replied, striving to sound
casual.

“Oh.” Jason looked surprised. He smiled.
“Well, in that case, I guess I could walk you home.”

“Great.” I smiled and motioned him in the
direction of the Institution.

“So, you live close by?” he asked.

“Not super close, but it’s not that far of a
walk.”

We traveled a ways, just talking about school
while I tried desperately to sound enthusiastic and not mortified
or anxious. Jason didn’t seem to notice though, thankfully.

“Oh, by the way, I live in those condos,” I
told him once the Institution was in eyesight.

He looked over. “Huh, I never knew those were
condos.”

“Yep, they are.”

We walked up the steps, but Jason stopped by
the door, looking around. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said
with a small smile.

I stopped. Wait! No! He couldn’t leave yet.
“Um ...”

Jason started to turn away and my mind was
spinning a hundred miles an hour. I cringed. No creators were
coming, no androids were coming. I would have to do it on my
own.

I reached out and grabbed Jason firmly by the
wrist. He turned to look at me, startled. “I’m sorry,” I said
softly, before pulling him towards the door. Jason tried to yank
away but then stopped, his eyes widening while I easily hauled him
into the lobby.

“Drew,” he started, still looking shocked.
“What are you doing?”

Just then, three creators emerged from the
double doors, heading our way. Jason looked confused and took a few
steps backward, but the creators were on him before I could blink.
Jason yelled and struggled against them, but three strong men
against a teenage boy didn’t leave much of a chance for him. They
dragged him back behind the doors and it took all I had to just
stand there and watch.
You’ll get him later, you’ll get him
later,
I kept telling myself. I tried not to think about the
boy on the table.

I waited about an hour, hoping it was long
enough, but not too long. I stood in the lobby for a while making
sure I heard no footsteps in the corridor beyond the doors and
after I was pretty sure no one was there, I ventured in again. It
was hard walking back there. I couldn’t get the images of what I’d
seen last time out of my head. The boy’s dark blood against his
pale skin stood out in my mind, leaving a permanent stain. I stayed
away from the door at the end of the hallway and focused on the one
where the cells were. I walked up and sure enough, through the
window I could see Jason sitting in one of the cells looking
absolutely terrified.

I turned the knob on the door only to find it
was locked. Panic shot through me like a bullet. Of course it was
locked. What had I been thinking? That this would actually be easy?
I stood there staring at the doorknob, not knowing what to do. I
couldn’t just let them hurt Jason. I needed to get him out.

And that meant finding the key.

I looked down at the end of the hallway to
the door through which Glen had appeared. It led somewhere else,
and I hadn’t had time to find out where. I started walking slowly
towards it, dreading it more with each passing second. Once I was a
few feet away, I stopped and listened carefully. I heard nothing,
but that didn’t mean that no one was behind it. I pushed it open
cautiously and walked through.

Inside, the room was large with tables
everywhere, although not the kind I had seen the other day. These
tables were littered with books and papers. Dozens of sketches and
pictures were pinned to the walls. But no one was in the room.

I walked over to a sketch on the wall. The
outline was the body of a person and inside, hundreds of little
lines were drawn with words describing certain parts or procedures.
It was creepy. Was this were I had come from? A sketch like
this?

Just then I heard footsteps approaching and
my heart thudded in my chest. I looked around the room frantically
for a place to hide but saw nothing. The footsteps were getting
louder and closer. My heart was beating so fast I thought I might
die. They couldn’t see me. It would ruin everything.
Hide
me!
I silently pleaded.

Just then I spotted a table at the end of the
room that was folded up and leaning against the wall. I ran for it
and hoped I would fit. I nudged myself between the wall and the
table and held my breath as I heard a door open and footsteps echo
throughout the room.

Once I caught a swift glimpse of him, I saw
that he wasn’t Glen, but just another creator. A creator who
probably had keys.

I waited until he had his back toward me. He
was sitting at one of the tables, leaning over a piece of paper and
scribbling on it. I slowly crawled out from behind the table,
praying that I wouldn’t cause it to collapse.

I crept forward until I was right behind him,
holding my breath and standing as still as I could. I lifted my arm
and hit him hard on the back of his head. He was out cold
immediately. For the first time ever, I was glad that my body was
lined with metal.

I dropped to the ground and started searching
his pockets. I let out a breath of relief when I found his
keychain, but at least two dozen keys were attached. Great.

I grabbed it and swiftly left the room. I ran
down the hallway to the door that led to the cells. I picked the
first key I saw and tried the lock. It didn’t fit. I tried another;
the same. I went through at least six keys and none of them worked.
I was shaking now, absolutely terrified of getting caught. I was
running out of time and I needed to get Jason out of there.

Finally, I found the right key and the door
swung open. Dozens of heads turned in my direction as I entered the
hall and I noticed that Jason was not the only one held captive. In
almost every cell down the whole corridor was a person. I put my
hand on my forehead, a thought entering my mind; a thought I wanted
to push away, but knew I couldn’t. Oh no. I couldn’t just get Jason
out of here and leave the rest of them.

I stood there for a moment. I figured the
best way to get multiple people out was by the front doors. The
back doors would be less noticeable for one person, but I couldn’t
hide a dozen people in a broom closet in case someone walked by. I
would just have to point them in the right direction and they’d be
on their own from there. Could all my efforts be for nothing if
this didn’t work? Absolutely.

“Okay guys,” I called quietly down the hall.
Everyone was staring at me, some eyes afraid, some accusatory. “I’m
going to get you out. There’s a door at the end of the hallway and
then a door leading outside. I want you to run for it as soon as I
say so. All of you. But quietly,” I added, now realizing that this
was probably a suicide mission for me.

I walked up to Jason’s cell and unlocked it.
“I’m sorry,” I told him but he didn’t reply. I went on, unlocking
cell after cell and after a few minutes, everyone had been freed. I
ducked my head out into the hallway to make sure no one was coming
and then ushered everyone out.

I did the same at the next door and then
turned to them. “This is it. Run to the outside door and don’t
stop. For anything. Don’t come back.” I put an emphasis on almost
every word. Dozens of frightened eyes looked up at me.

I pushed the door open and they swarmed out.
I ran after them and headed towards the hallway leading to my room.
I waited until every one of them had left and then sent up a silent
prayer that they would get away and stay away. I leaned against the
wall, suddenly feeling exhausted. I could still hear the swinging
of the doors.

But just then, I felt as though someone were
watching me. I straightened, instantly alert. I turned and looked
across the lobby to see Yvonne staring straight at me, her dark
eyes expressionless. My heart almost stopped. I looked evenly back
at her. Would Yvonne turn me in?

We stared each other down for several
seconds.
Please don’t Yvonne, please,
I silently
implored.

She just looked at me, staring, as though she
was calculating her decision. After a while she shrugged, as if she
didn’t care, and left the room.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

As far as I could tell, Yvonne hadn’t said
anything about what she’d seen. Of course, the creators were
furious. They went insane trying to figure out who had done it,
looking for possible ways of getting in and out, possible suspects,
but found none. Everyone available was tasked with finding out who
it had been and how the perpetrator had gotten in.

But I couldn’t be sure of what Yvonne might
do. When we were kids, she never would have told on me. Ever. She
had always liked the excitement of keeping secrets. But now Yvonne
seemed more interested in what she could get by telling the secrets
instead of keeping them. And we weren’t exactly on speaking terms
at the moment.

Also, I was running out of ideas for the
escaping humans. I couldn’t use either one of the ideas I had
already used. They would suspect me soon. And I knew they would be
keeping a better watch on the cells. The first two times had been
hard enough and nerve-racking for me.

But I couldn’t allow myself to bring in
another person.

And I didn’t want the creators to turn me
off.

I sat down on my bed and buried my head in my
hands. Why did I have to make this decision? Why wasn’t I just
programmed? I didn’t want to make these kinds of choices, I didn’t
want the feelings—the hurt. Why wasn’t I just a robot?

But then I stopped. I had thought I was. Was
a robot supposed to experience these kinds of feelings? Was
something wrong with me?

But wait, Yvonne had a personality, also.
Completely different from mine, but still a personality.

Weren’t we supposed to be perfect? Did
perfect include the emotions, choices, conversations and arguments?
Did perfect people laugh? Did they cry?

How could I be perfect if I had irrational
emotions and thoughts? I didn’t know. All I knew was that I had
changed a lot from when the creators first brought me back. I had
come back to a world of imperfection, but still a world that seemed
far better than my old one.

Just then, the door opened and Yvonne came
striding in. “Glen wants to see you,” she said in an unfriendly
voice.

“Thanks.” I got up, not looking at her, and
left the room. I wandered down the corridor until I found the study
Glen always seemed to be in, working. I pushed the doors open and
found him sitting at his desk going through a large stack of
papers.

Great, another person to bring in. My heart
sank a little.

Glen looked up when I came in. “Hello,
Drew.”

“Yvonne said you wanted to see me.”

He nodded and beckoned for me to come closer.
He reached across the desk and handed me some papers. I reluctantly
took them and sulkily looked down at the photo, already trying to
formulate a plan. But then my heart nearly stopped, all ideas and
thoughts exiting my mind. No. I numbly looked up to see Glen
watching me closely, his gray eyes boring into mine.

“Her name is Jessica Walter.”

Chapter
Thirty-Eight

His words rang in my ears. I stared blankly
at Jessica’s smiling face staring up at me, her eyes twinkling. My
mouth was open and I just gaped. No. Why was this happening to me?
I couldn’t do this to Jessica. I couldn’t. My mind was empty,
numb.

When I finally looked up, Glen was observing
me intently. I shook my head ever so slightly, still completely
shocked.

“I know she’s your ... friend,” Glen said
uneasily, his voice stern. “But this is your mission.” He paralyzed
me with his gaze and I felt every muscle in my body, every thought
in my mind wishing to fight him.

I could feel tears of sorrow, pity and anger
pooling in the corners of my eyes. How could he ask me to do this?
How
?

“That’s why we’ve given you a few days to get
her here. Once you think about it, you’ll know that bringing her
here is the right choice.” He smiled at me, although the smile
didn’t reach his eyes. It was tight and cold, and in that moment, I
saw something harsh flash across his face – as if he’d asked me to
bring in Jessica
because
she was my friend. To get rid of
her. I felt myself go cold. He waved me towards the door.

I left. I thought numbly about Jessica. What
could I do? I couldn’t
not
bring her in, because if I
refused, I would get turned off. But I couldn’t let her become ...
changed. The creators were getting bolder, starting to make us
bring in kids who had families. Why? Why were they changing in
their method?

“Drew, what’s the matter?” Jessica asked me,
concerned. “You’ve been acting weird all day.” We were at our
lockers, putting our books away and grabbing our bags to leave for
the day. I realized I hadn’t been very happy, not engaging in
conversation or laughing along with her and the others, but how
else could I act?