I purposefully threw punches he couldn’t block. Hard, fast, angry. My chest burned in a way I had never felt before. My throat ached from the growing lump.
He hit the mat for the tenth time, his face a barely recognizable bloody mess. He didn’t get up this time. He collapsed, breathing heavily.
“You’re right,” I said. “I should have picked One-twenty-one. But now I’m stuck with you, so I suggest you quit your whining and pull it together. There are no more choices, rich boy. This is it, forever. Get used to it.”
I whirled around and stormed out of the gym, the eyes of all the other trainers and newbies on me.
“Nice work, One-seventy-eight,” a guard said to me with a nod.
A sick feeling washed over me. I’d heard those words many times in my five years at HARC, but there was no pride or satisfaction on my part this time.
I made a sharp turn into the showers and rushed to a sink. I smeared Twenty-two’s blood on the faucet as I clumsily turned the knob.
The water ran red as it dripped from my fingers and I pressed my lips together and turned away. I’d never been squeamish at the sight of blood, but this was different. I saw his face in the red.
I washed my hands four times. When I finished I looked up at my reflection. I couldn’t remember the last time I had looked in the mirror. It had been years.
Human memories faded faster the younger a Reboot died. I remembered broad strokes of my life before the age of twelve, but the details were fuzzy. But I remembered my eyes. In my head my eyes were the same light blue they’d been before I died.
My reflection was different. The blue was bright, piercing, unnatural. Inhuman. I would have guessed my eyes would be scarier. Cold and emotionless. But they were . . . pretty? It seemed weird to describe myself that way. But my eyes were big and sad, and the deep blue color was actually kind of nice.
At first glance I was not intimidating. Cute, even. I was the shortest person in most rooms, often shorter than the thirteen-and fourteen-year-old newbies. A tuft of blond hair stuck out the end of my ponytail, hair I’d chopped off to just above my shoulders myself.
I wasn’t as scary-looking as I’d imagined. I barely looked scary at all, to be honest.
I certainly didn’t look like a monster who enjoyed hunting people.
TEN
THE NIGHT AIR WAS STILL AS I OPENED THE STAIRWELL DOOR and stepped onto the roof of the facility. The humans waited for me near the edge and I headed toward them, adjusting my helmet so it was straight on my head.
“I trust you, One-seventy-eight.” Officer Mayer put his hands on his wide hips and gave me a look like I was to respond to that.
“Thank you,” I said automatically. Officer Mayer told me he trusted me every time he saw me, as if trying to convince himself. I was the only Reboot to have regular contact with the commanding officer.
I doubted anyone was jealous.
I saw him often, as Rosa was the biggest facility and he kept an office here. I saw the woman standing next to him, Suzanna Palm, very rarely. She was the chairman of HARC, and I had no idea what it was she did, exactly, but her presence tonight couldn’t be a good thing.
“I trust you’ve been told this mission is confidential?” Suzanna asked. She was squinting at me in a way that felt disapproving. Perhaps she was just uncomfortable in her ridiculous heels. Or maybe those wild silver-streaked brown curls blowing all over the place annoyed her. They would have annoyed me.
I nodded as the shuttle landed on the roof. Officer Mayer stepped away as the door opened, giving me a look that was meant to be encouraging. I didn’t feel encouraged. The last thing I wanted to do tonight was go on a surprise solo mission. But I did have to admit that I hoped the assignment was a runner. I wouldn’t mind smashing a human’s face into the ground tonight.
A vision of Twenty-two’s bloody face flashed in front of my eyes and I pushed the image back. It wouldn’t stay away for long, though. All day I’d seen it and felt the heaviness in my chest. I wanted to tell my brain to stop being dumb. He’d been healed for hours; it wasn’t like I’d done any permanent damage.
Leb twisted his hands together as I entered the small shuttle, and he barely glanced at me. His palpable discomfort almost made me nervous. Officer Mayer’s solo assignments were rarely good, but Leb was usually the officer on duty for them. They “trusted” him, too, apparently.
We’d take only one shuttle tonight, so the prisoner would come back with us. I took one of the four small seats across from Leb and pulled the straps down my body, trying to ignore the anxious look on his face. I didn’t like that look. I focused on my assignment slip instead, which simply said, Milo, thirties, 5’10”-6’ brown hair. There was no mention of why I was bringing him in. They knew I wouldn’t ask.
Twenty-two’s comment about how we should know what the human had done to warrant capture ran through my head. I pushed it away. I could wonder about human crimes all I wanted, but HARC never gave out that information on solo missions.
We rode in silence over Rosa until the shuttle descended and settled on the ground. The door slid open to reveal the heart of the slums and I unhooked my straps, getting to my feet. A dirt road curved around tiny wooden houses, every one dark and silent, as it was past curfew.
We’d stopped very close to the assignment’s house. Officer Mayer didn’t take chances, didn’t enjoy the chase the way I did.
The house was just as run-down and sad as all the others, with one notable exception. The windows. Two square windows, at the front of the house, were covered by absolutely nothing. Anyone could walk right by and see everything he owned. Most houses in Rosa didn’t have windows, or if they did, they were small and blocked. Theft was rampant. Windows were an invitation.
This human was a total idiot.
I jumped out of the shuttle and jogged through the dirt to the front steps of the house. The boards creaked beneath my feet as I approached the door and stopped, tilting my head toward the house. It was silent, the only noise the rustle of leaves from the tree next door.
Knocking was not required on Officer Mayer’s special assignments, so I kicked the door as hard as I could and it swung open to reveal darkness.
I stepped inside, scanning to my left, where I could see the faint outline of a couch and a few chairs. A hallway lay just past the living room, but I saw no sign of life in the other rooms of the house. Perhaps I’d gotten lucky, and the human was a heavy sleeper.
My boots made the slightest sound against the wood as I crept past the couch and down the hallway. The first door on my left was open, a bathroom. The only other door was right across from it, and I pressed the tips of my fingers against it as I gripped the doorknob with my other hand. It squeaked as I turned it, and I winced at the sound.
I pushed the door open and squinted in the darkness at the bed in front of me. It was empty.
I caught a blur of motion out of the corner of my eye and I dug my fingers into either side of the doorframe. No windows in the bedroom. I had him trapped.
The light flipped on and I blinked, surprised. The human—Milo, I assumed—stood next to the bed in nothing but a T-shirt, a pair of boxers, and socks.
He was grinning.
I cocked my head to the side, confused by his reaction. His eyes flicked up and down my body and he smiled wider, gripping something in his hand. It was a metal tube, about two inches long.
“One-seventy-eight, cuff him!” Officer Mayer yelled through my com.
A horrible shrieking sound pierced my ear and I gasped and quickly pulled my com out. I rubbed my ear, frowning at Milo.
“Who’s your shuttle officer?” He rushed across the room toward me. I took a step back, lifting my arms to defend myself. He made an exasperated sound. “Would you stop it? I’m on your side.”
My side? Which side was that?
I turned at the sound of footsteps and Leb appeared from around the corner, his eyes wide and panicked. He looked from me to Milo and I quickly reached
for my cuffs, unable to think of an explanation as to why I hadn’t already secured the assignment.
Milo held up a silver device to Leb and the officer’s face changed from panic to anger.
“Yours is down, too, right, Leb?” Milo asked.
I froze. The human knew Leb.
Leb opened his mouth, but then snapped it shut and turned to me. He was worried. Scared. Of me? Leb had never looked scared of me.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “You took out all video and communications. Even on the shuttle.”
“Nice,” Milo said, dropping the device on his bed. “I would have appreciated a heads-up, you know.”
“I didn’t have time,” Leb said. “I got the assignment half an hour ago.”
Milo sighed. “That is smart of them, I guess. Want to make it up to me by letting me go? You can say I got away.”
“She doesn’t let people get away,” Leb said.
That was true. And why would Leb let him go?
“What the hell were you thinking?” Leb continued angrily. “They’re going to know why you shut down their communications. They’re going to kill her. And me, maybe.”
I blinked, dropping my com, and Leb gave me an apologetic look as I scooped it up. Why would they kill me? I’d followed orders.
“Get in the shuttle,” Leb said to Milo. “One-seventy-eight, cuff him.”
“What?” Milo exclaimed as I took a step toward him. “Come on, man, you can’t give me to them!”
“I don’t have a choice,” Leb said, gesturing for us to follow him. “If we don’t get on that shuttle now and get back to HARC they’ll kill me and her, and probably hunt you down in a few days anyway.”
“But . . .” Milo looked from me to Leb, his eyes flicking to the cuffs in my hand.
Milo darted into the hallway, pushing Leb out of the way. I grabbed for his waist, catching only a handful of shirt instead. He twisted out of my grasp and shot through the door, slipping on the floor in his socks.
“Oh yes, there’s a good idea, Milo,” Leb said dryly. “Run from One-seventy-eight.”
I raced into the living room and launched myself at Milo. We hit the floor together and he grunted and began squirming beneath me. I reached for my cuffs as he groped for the edge of the couch.
“Would you stop it?” Leb snapped, his boots appearing beside me. “Just let her cuff you.”
Milo groaned but stopped squirming long enough for me to snap the cuffs around his wrists. I hauled him up to his feet and he blew a few strands of hair out of his eyes as he twisted around to look at Leb.
“But I think—”
“Just shut up until we get in the shuttle,” Leb said, stopping at the doorway with his hand poised over the doorknob. “Got it?”
Milo nodded glumly and Leb pushed his way outside. The pilot was standing next to the shuttle door, his face curious.
“Everything’s fine,” Leb said to him as he slid open the door of the shuttle. “Let’s get back.”
The officer nodded and hopped into the driver’s seat, and I pointed for Milo to get inside. The human targets were locked in a separate compartment at the back of the shuttle, a way to safeguard the officer on duty. Milo walked through the small opening and I shut the door behind him.
I settled into my seat, my eyes on Leb. He was pointedly avoiding my gaze.
“Can you help me?” Milo started talking as fast as he could, forehead pressed to the glass compartment. “Maybe during transport. You could let me slip away when they ship me off to Austin, right?”
“Maybe,” Leb said.
“Or maybe even tonight. Do you know a way out? Do—”
“Would you give me a minute to think?” Leb frowned at him and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and running his hands into his dark hair.
Silence filled the shuttle, the only sound the hum of the engine. Milo’s eyes darted from me to Leb, his face curious.
“Does she talk?” Milo asked after several moments of silence.
Leb didn’t reply or make any move to indicate he’d heard him.
“Do you do a lot of solo missions with One-seventy-eight?” Milo asked. “Tony would have appreciated that detail. Have you explained things to her? Maybe she can help me. Or us, eventually.”
Leb lifted his head and glared at Milo. “Has there been any progress with Adina?”
“No. They lost three more rebels inside HARC last month in Austin alone and they’ve stopped getting Reboots out for now.”
The rebels. I’d heard whispers of them as a child. Humans in the slums banding together to stand against HARC, tear down the walls between the rico and the slums, and bring back a citizen-led government. A girl at school claimed her father was part of a team launching an assault on the Austin HARC facility. The whole family had gone missing a few days later.
My eyes widened and Leb caught sight of my expression. He let out a long sigh, muttering something to himself.
“What does that mean, they’ve stopped getting Reboots out for now?” I asked.
“Oh, come on,” Milo said, shooting Leb a look. “You really haven’t told her anything?”
“I am not helping you until you get Adina out, so I didn’t really see the point,” Leb said. “And now you’ve risked them eliminating her, so it doesn’t even matter.”
I wished Leb would stop saying that. The sick feeling in my stomach was starting to spread to my throat and I had to swallow the rising lump.
“Please,” Milo said, rolling his eyes. “They’re not going to do anything to their precious One-seventy-eight. They think she’s nothin’ but an empty shell anyway.” He grimaced. “Sorry, Tiny.”
“It’s Wren,” I said with a frown. Empty shell? I didn’t know about that. I wasn’t an emotional Under-sixty, but there was something in there.
I was pretty sure there was something in there.
“Listen to me,” Milo said, raising his voice so I could hear through the glass. “Reboots escape.”
That was ridiculous. I gave him a suspicious look, not sure what kind of game he was playing.
“They escape, and they’ve formed a reservation in northern Texas, not far from the border. The ones they tell you died in the field? But they mysteriously can’t find their bodies? They didn’t die.”
I hadn’t seen a body when my trainer died.
I turned to Leb, my eyes wide. “One-fifty-seven?” I asked.
“Yes. He escaped.” Leb shifted uncomfortably.
“How?”
He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I was able to get my hands on a tracker locator and I got him out when he was on assignment.”
“Why would you do that?” Why would any human want to help a Reboot? We were mankind’s greatest enemy.
“Because they promised to help my daughter,” he said. “She’s a Reboot at the Austin facility and the rebels said if I helped get out a high number, someone HARC thought would never try to escape, they would break her out in return.” His eyes hardened and he glared at Milo. “They lied.”
“We did not lie!” Milo protested. “But we just lost three people and I’m sorry, but getting a Thirty-nine out isn’t our highest priority right now.”
“You help the higher numbers escape?” I asked. I still couldn’t understand why.
“We make the higher numbers a priority because they’re more useful to HARC. But we’ve gotten out lower numbers, too. It depends on who we can get to.”
“Why?” I asked incredulously.
“Because we can’t change anything with all of you working for HARC,” Milo said. “If we’re ever going to have a chance of getting rid of HARC, we need help. Like badass, trained-in-combat help. And we figured you all wouldn’t turn down the chance to escape.”
“But . . .” We weren’t human. And I didn’t want to break it to the guy, but if someone helped me escape I probably would just run away. I wasn’t sticking around to help a bunch of humans. I found it hard to believe
there was a Reboot reservation at all, much less one allied with these human rebels.
“Or at the very least, they need you gone so they have a shot,” Leb said, like he could tell what I was thinking.
The shuttle began to descend, and Milo looked at Leb with wide eyes. “You can help me, right? You can get me out of this?”
“Maybe,” Leb said, running a hand down his face. “I can try to set something up for when you’re transferred to Austin. But they’ve got Suzanna Palm in Rosa tonight. You’re just going to have to tough it out through questioning for now.”
The color drained from Milo’s face, but he nodded. “But you can get me out later, right? Because—”
“I said I’d try,” Leb snapped. He turned to me. “They’re going to ask you what happened during the silence. You need to tell them the truth, sort of.”
I blinked, confused. All the humans had lost their minds.
“A version of the truth. Tell them Milo started ranting about the Reboot reservation and people escaping. Tell them he said One-fifty-seven escaped. And that he wanted to help you. Then tell them that you think he’s crazy. That even if he isn’t, you wouldn’t go. Do that thing where you look blank, like you have no feelings at all.”
“I think that’s just my face.”
“Fine. You have to give them something. They’re never going to believe he was just silent while your com malfunctioned.” He looked at me pleadingly. “But please don’t tell them about me or Adina. Can you just say I told you to remain silent? I have two other kids and my wife is gone. I can’t get caught.”
The shuttle jerked to a stop on the ground and I nodded. He didn’t look entirely convinced I wouldn’t rat him out.
“And you can’t tell any of the other Reboots about this,” Leb whispered, his words coming in a rush. “I can’t get any more of them out right now. I came this close to getting caught last time. I’m not risking it again.” He turned to glare at Milo. “Especially when certain people don’t keep their word.”
Milo glared right back as the door slid open to reveal Officer Mayer on the roof, his hands on his hips, anger radiating off his chubby body. Suzanna stood beside him, her anger controlled, if she felt any. She simply lifted her eyebrows at me. A corner of her mouth turned up as she regarded Milo.