*
THE DRIVER IS GONE for most of the afternoon. His business must be keeping him busy, because he’s not out throwing hay or cleaning stalls as usual. That or he’s realized, like I have, that he shouldn’t come back. It’s too dangerous, for both of us.
I wander around in front of the glass wall for a while so that the Watcher can see me, or at least so he doesn’t feel the need to come outside and check on me. From here I’ve got a clear view of the rec yard. It’s past dinnertime and the girls who are left from Auction Day have been turned out to stretch their legs before bed. I can’t see Sweetpea anywhere. Maybe that weight shifter worked after all.
Watching them gives me the shivers. Nina can never come to a place like this. The prospect of her being prodded and groomed then sold to a wealthy bidder makes me ill. I hope Tam protects her, like I taught him. She’s worth more to these city people than he is. She’ll always be in more danger.
Daphne’s red hair stands out even across the space separating us. She and Buttercup are sitting on a bench facing the gathering crowd of workers on break. Buttercup’s legs are up on Daphne’s lap, and even from this distance, I can see Daphne lean over to kiss her. I never saw two girls kissing before this place, but Daphne says it helps raise their stock at auction. I don’t know about that—it obviously hasn’t worked for her yet—but from the hollers of the men in the crowd, I’d say she’s definitely got their attention. Even the two new Pip-raised girls are watching.
Only one girl has stayed away from the fence. Straw Hair. She’s meandering down by the pond, completely ignoring the others.
As I watch, she steps into the tepid water, kicking aside a lily pad. Daphne glances over, and soon she and Buttercup are laughing and pointing over the back of the bench. A frown pulls at my mouth. Daphne never laughed at me when I was praying. Maybe she’s just bitter because she wasn’t chosen. I’m disappointed in her. My half friend.
Straw Hair takes another step in. Then another. Her dress is soaked up to the knees. The pond isn’t much deeper than that. Then she sits, the slinky fabric fanning around her like another lily pad. She lays back, dunking her head underwater. The other girls are laughing like loons now. But I’m not laughing. Poison aside, I’m pretty sure she’s trying to drown herself.
I don’t breathe again until Straw Hair stands up. She’s soaked, and her dress is clinging to her flat little body as she sloshes out of the pond. Daphne’s laugh, which is high pitched and rises over the others, stops suddenly. She and I both realize at the same moment what’s about to happen.
“No,” I say aloud, just as Straw Hair takes off at a sprint towards the fence. The electric fence. Where I saw her meet the boy on her first night. My gaze shoots to Daphne. She sees what’s happening, but doesn’t move to intercept.
“Daphne!” I cry. “Stop her!”
I run forward, but hit the end of my chain hard and am yanked to a stop. I strain against the chain, but have no way of getting inside the rec-yard fence. Daphne is standing now; she hasn’t moved from Buttercup’s side.
“Daphne!” I shout again. I know she can hear me—I’m less than fifty paces away—but she only watches, like I’m forced to do. I’m vaguely aware that my guard has come outside to see what I’m yelling about.
Straw Hair hits the fence at a dead run.
I’m unable to tear my eyes away. There’s a flash of light, and a deafening metallic zap! Straw Hair is stuck to the fence, as though she’s a piece of cotton stuck to tree sap. And she’s shaking. Her whole body is shaking.
Her hair catches fire and her yellow head goes up in orange flames. It rolls back while the rest of her—her arms, her legs, her torso—are all still attached to the fence, dancing uncontrollably. I can smell her burning flesh in the pure white cloud of smoke that’s rising around her. I can taste the sick in the back of my mouth.
There is a loud popping sound, and I know the fence’s power has been shut down. I can’t help but think that if I were on that side, I would have taken this chance to climb over to freedom.
What’s left of Straw Hair crumples to the ground, smoking. All that is left of her hair is a charred scalp. A moment later, the fence buzzes. The power has been turned back on.
And then three Pips are scurrying towards her. They don’t run, but they walk speedily, and though I can’t see their faces, I’m sure their expressions are that of disgust. My bloody nose was nothing compared to this sickening mess.
They don’t pick up her body. They’re calling on the radio to someone within the Garden. The Governess probably. She won’t come outside, but she’ll have her Pip assistant contact someone to pick up the body. Who knows how long that will take.
I stumble back a step, turn to the side, and puke.
I’ve never seen anyone do anything like that in all my time here. The most desperate attempts to escape have been mine. But Straw Hair has beaten me. She has escaped. Truly escaped.
Straw Hair. I didn’t even know her name. Her Garden name. Or her given name. I feel another bout of sick coming on.
A short time later I register the Watcher’s presence. When I turn he’s holding a meal pill in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. Weakly, I take them from him. And then he promptly turns away to go inside. As though there isn’t a dead body lying fifty paces away. As though a life has not just been lost in fire and smoke.
I throw the pill at him as hard as I can. I don’t care if he does come back here to knock me around. I think, in all my fury, I might be able to take him right now.
But he’s already inside, and the pill bounces harmlessly off the glass and lands in the dirt.