chapter 25
I sit with Alex at breakfast. The cafeteria is abuzz with the new challenge we’ll compete in tomorrow. It’s described as an obstacle course on crack. We’re promised bigger obstacles than we’ve ever seen before. My stomach twists. I know this is where they’ll do away with me. I wonder what type of accident they have planned.
Sam and Jake were taken away and assigned early this morning. I hope they are somewhere together. I’m not surprised they were taken away today, since I know what they’re planning to do to me tomorrow. Only they don’t know that I’m planning to be far from here by then. I’m filled with so much excitement, fear and hope it makes my stomach cramp.
The day passes by agonizingly slowly, and I do the bare minimum in training, trying to preserve my strength for tonight. Then suddenly, the day is over, and I’m going through the motions at dinner with Alex. He knows something’s up with me, but thankfully he doesn’t ask any questions. I can barely look at the food on my plate without feeling sick. I’m a bundle of nerves, but I do my best to force the food into my mouth. I chew, swallow and repeat, taking shallow breaths through my nose. The clock on the wall seems to bear down on me; it’s ticking much louder than it should be.
Without Sam here, I have nothing in the bunker or dorm to distract me. I shower and go straight to bed, thinking maybe I can squeeze a little sleep in before – but it’s impossible. I lay in bed, staring straight up at the ceiling. I lift my arm and inspect the chip in my wrist. I run my fingers over the hard nodule, and realize – with horror – this thing will have to come out. I scratch at my wrist, wondering what Will has planned for me.
After an agonizing wait, Rena comes for me again. I recognize her footsteps this time. Neither of us speaks as I follow her from the room. Instead of taking me to her or Will’s room, she brings me to a supply closet near the gym, not far from the door to outside.
We enter the small room, and Will’s already inside. He’s arranging supplies on a small table. My heart stops when I see what they are. There’s a scalpel, antiseptic and bandages. My fingers instantly go to the chip on the inside of my wrist. I clutch my fingers around my wrist, protecting it.
Will stops what he’s doing and turns to me. “Rena, leave us,” he says, his eyes on me. She nods and backs out the door.
I stand in front of Will. We just look at each other for several long minutes. I don’t want to move yet. I don’t even want to talk. If we can just stay here like this for a few minutes more, maybe I can pretend that none of the other stuff is about to happen.
Will closes his eyes, and I notice his hands are balled into fists. When he opens them a second later, I can tell he’s just given himself a pep talk, convincing himself this is the right thing to do. It’s not exactly comforting that someone who’s about to cut me opens needs convincing.
My stomach flips. “Have you ever done this before?” I ask before I can stop myself. It seems unlikely that there will be any answer that can settle my nerves.
“It’ll be the first time for both of us.” He gives me a sly grin, trying to break the ice.
“You can’t … my veins ...”
His jaw tightens, the muscles in his forearms flex involuntarily. “Come here,” his voice is commanding with a hard edge to it.
I hesitantly take a step closer to him. My heart is pounding, and though I know I shouldn’t, I can’t help but think that my racing heart will only make the blood loss worse.
“Come here,” he whispers this time and reaches for me. He pulls me against him. I tuck my head under this chin and press my face to the hollow of his throat. He rests his chin on the top of my head and hugs me to him. We fit perfectly together like this.
“I’m scared,” I whisper against his neck.
“I know. I am, too.” Hearing him admit his fear makes me feel better. I remember that fear is a completely human response in this situation, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I lift my head from his chest and rise up on my toes. He bends down to kiss me. His hands slide up to cradle my face. His kisses are soft, gentle, like’s he’s concentrating, so that he can commit this moment to memory, and I can feel his love for me. I still have my eyes closed when he stops and pulls back. “Are you ready?”
I open my eyes slowly, not ready to face this yet. “I need to know the plan.”
He nods. “Sit down.” He gestures to the floor, since there’s nowhere else. I slide down to the cool cement floor, trying not to notice the table holding the shiny, metal scalpel. Will sits down next to me. “I am going to remove your chip,” he says simply, like he’s explaining how to butter toast. My mouth goes dry. “And then Rena and I are going to take you to the fence,” he says next. His voice has just the slightest hint of edge. “You’ll probably be weak from loss of blood, but you’ll have to keep moving – all through the night. Do you understand?”
Something he’s said completely throws me off. He’s only talking about me, rather than us. “Will, are you … did you change your –”
He strokes my hair away from my face, his thumb caressing my cheek. “You have to go alone. We can’t disappear together, or they’ll know we were working together.”
My stomach drops. He’s changed his mind. I can’t do this without him. I can’t. I won’t go.
“I’ll be able to get them off your trail,” he says, still stroking my hair. “When O’Donovan orders a search party, I’ll lead them the other way. It’s the best chance for you to escape. And then, in the chaos that follows, I’ll slip away and come for you. I promise.” He lifts my face until I look up at him. His eyes are so deep and loving, they swallow me whole.
I believe him. I have to believe him. I nod weakly.
“You will walk for ten days, heading west.” He waits for my understanding. I nod. “During the day, keep your back to the sun,” he reminds me. “After ten days, you should reach a small outpost.” He stops to make sure I’m getting all this.
I’m still distracted by how he plans to get my chip out. I nod, but my eyes keep going back to the scalpel, keeping it within my line of sight.
“Rena says the people are friendly. They’ll take you in. Wait there for me. I should only be a few days behind you …” I don’t like the way his voice cuts out. As long as everything goes according to plan, he’ll be a few days behind me. But what he doesn’t say is that no one knows how the government will react when I go missing. And if Will is suspected, they’ll kill him.
“You should have everything you need. Food, water tablets, a knife …” He rummages through the bag, showing me the items.
“Will.” I grab his hand. We share a long, knowing look. This could be it. The end. The moment is too much. He swallows and looks away, clearing his throat. I can’t get emotional right now. I can’t break down, but seeing Will like this nearly undoes me.
“You can do this, Eve. You are the strongest person I know.” His mouth lifts in a half smile. “Other than me.” I smile for the first time that day. And I start to believe, maybe, just maybe, this crazy plan will work. “We need to get moving,” he says. And my smile instantly dissolves. The extra serving of meatloaf I had at dinner turns sour in my stomach, and I swallow down the saliva that’s rapidly accumulating in my mouth.
Will takes my wrist and examines it closely, tracing his fingers along the chip. I can feel my pulse thumping against his fingertips. His gaze is scientific – estimating how much room he has to work around my veins, but they are like a web surrounding the chip. I know that’s not good.
I try to focus on him instead of my wrist. His face shows complete and total concentration. He’s beautiful like this. His eyes are dark and serious, his jaw set firm, and his focus on me is unwavering.
He rips open an antiseptic wipe with his teeth, still holding my wrist. The sound of the paper tearing in the silent room makes me flinch; I’m so on edge, and though I don’t mean to, I involuntarily pull my hand away from him.
He looks at me, wondering what he’s done wrong. He spits the wrapper from his lips and leans down to kiss me. “It’s okay,” he murmurs against my lips. “Trust me,” his voice is just a whisper. I nod and kiss him again. Then he brings my hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the underside of my wrist, right over my chip. “Be very still,” he whispers against my wrist before lowering it.
“Do it fast.”
He nods and picks up the scalpel. I offer him my wrist, lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes. He wipes the cool antiseptic wipe along my wrist. And while I wait to feel the sting of the blade, I picture myself on the other side of the fence, running free, my backpack bouncing wildly. I hold the image in my mind and breathe, trying to calm myself.
Will’s grip tightens on my wrist, and I feel the sting of the blade break my skin, its sharp tip digging under the chip to free it. I bite into my lip to keep from crying out. I feel a warm dampness drip down my arm and hear it splatter softly on the concrete floor. I keep my eyes squeezed tight and breathe deeply through my nose. I can smell the salty, metallic blood in the tiny room so I switch to breathing through my mouth. Then his hands are fumbling with a cloth at my wrist. I look down and suddenly feel woozy as I watch deep red blood staining the white cloth. Will’s hand tightens around my wrist, applying too much pressure as he squeezes.
The whooshing sound of my pulse inside my head is deafening. I tip my head against the wall, unsure if it’s by choice or if it’s just too heavy to hold up any longer.
“Try and relax,” Will’s voice soothes, but it sounds far away.
I’m not sure when Rena came back, but she’s kneeling beside me and helps Will bandage my wrist. Will lifts my arm and holds my hand above my head, trying to slow the loss of blood. My head feels like its floating apart from my body, and my eyes can’t focus on any one thing. The room tilts and spins. The smell of iron invades the room until it’s all I can focus on.
I feel them changing the bandages again and shouting commands at each other that I can’t make out. I think they’re arguing about something, but their voices blend together in an unidentifiable jumble. Suddenly Will lifts me from the floor. My arms and legs feel heavy and limp. My head flops back without my permission, and my eyes roll between open and closed, so I see the room in sharp angles and flashes of light that don’t add up to anything. The ceiling is too close. The floor is too far. He folds me into his arms and carries me from the room.