Remake Page 6

  Theron came and settled next to me. He started plucking at my arms and face.

  I swatted him away. “What are you doing?” I asked, annoyed.

  “Trying to get some of your spots,” he said.

  I frowned and narrowed my eyes at him. “They don’t come off,” I whispered.

  His face fell. “That’s too bad. I wanted some for myself.”

  I perked my head up. “You want my freckles? Why?”

  “Because they make you run fast. Duh.” He threw his hands up in the air as if it were obvious. “Why do you think cheetahs have them? They’re the fastest animals in the world.”

  I shook my head at him, convinced he was making fun of me. “If I’m so fast, why won’t they let me play?” I motioned to the kids running around, their laughter echoing in the large room.

  “Because you’re too fast. It wouldn’t be fair for the rest of them.”

  I extended my arms to get a good look at them. I had a lot of freckles. I wondered if that meant I was even faster than a cheetah. “You think so?” I asked.

  Theron huffed. “I know so. I’ll prove it to you.” He stood and pulled me up next to him. “I’ll race you around the edge of the rec room. Start and finish right here. Ready?” He leaned forward at an angle with his lips pursed together in concentration.

  I raised my arms like his, fisting my hands, ready to pump them into action.

  “Set,” he said, peeking at me out of the corner of his eye. “Go!”

  I took off and ran as fast as my feet could move, rounding each corner of the room with a new burst of speed. I imagined myself a cheetah, lengthening my stride and not slowing down until I reached our starting point just ahead of Theron.

  He doubled over and took exaggerated breaths. “See?” he said between his panting. “Way too fast.”

  I forgot about the other Batchers and their game, challenging Theron to several more races. Of course I realized years later he probably let me win, but it didn’t matter. Because I had decided that day, if there was one person I could share my freckles with, it’d be Theron. My best friend.

  “Well?” Theron elbows me in the side, bringing me back to the present. “Wanna race?”

  I glance across the street and shrug my shoulders, feigning indifference. As soon as I see his stance relax, I yell, “Go!” and take off before he realizes what’s happening.

  “Cheater!” he calls from behind me, laughing through the street.

  I reach the doors just before he does and join in his laughter, my fear forgotten. How does he do that? How does he make me feel safe and loved and just plain happy in an instant? I smile at him with a look of appreciation. Theron is everything I wish I were. Everything I wish I could become. And as we enter the building, it’s as though something inside of me sparks like the electric lights along the walls. I’ve always wanted to be like Theron, and I think I know how I can be.

  When it’s my turn at the computer station, I slide my finger on the screen and watch as those haunting words appear.

  Male or female?

  Theron stands beside me, his presence giving me the courage to ignore the doubt that sticks in my throat like an unpleasant taste. I force myself to swallow it and bury it down.

  Where’s the spark I felt just seconds ago?

  Theron leans against me, reminding me I don’t have to do this alone. This choice, this journey, this life—he’ll be at my side through it all.

  This time I don’t hesitate, and my finger connects with the rest of my life.

  Male.

  I turn to the boy at my side, his eyes wide and surprised for a fraction of a second before warmth invades his expression.

  “You know what this means, don’t you?” he asks with a serious face.

  I shake my head and hold my breath.

  “It means I’ll have to teach you how to pee standing up.”

  A burst of laughter erupts from my mouth, and Theron wraps his arm around my neck and kisses the top of my head, making me feel like I made the right decision.

  Even though, somehow, I still can’t find that spark.

  The interior of the shuttle is way smaller than the outside makes it look. But there are still ten times as many seats than our Batch of twenty needs. Theron and I hijack an entire row, push up the armrests, and sprawl along the seats.

  “Maybe I can sleep the whole way there,” I say.

  “Hurtful.” Theron yanks off my shoes and tosses them to the floor. “These are our last moments together before our Remake, and you’re gonna sleep them away?”

  I hold my hands in front of me, palms up, replicating a balance scale. Lowering each, one at a time, I pretend to debate the matter. “Hmm. Sleep through a terrifying flight over miles of deadly ocean . . . or . . . listen to jokes that make me want to shoot my ears off.” I tap a finger on my chin. “That’s a hard one.”

  “After a lifetime of providing comic relief to our sad and simple lives, this is how you repay me?”

  “Don’t worry,” I say, snuggling up to him. “I promise to laugh at every word until I’m out. It’ll be a win-win.”

  With an exaggerated sigh, Theron says, “Fine. But if your snoring interrupts my creative thinking, I’m stuffing you in the lavatory.”

  “Deal,” I say, tucking my head under his chin.

  “So three Makers enter a bar—”

  * * *

  “Nine, wake up.” Theron is shaking me.

  But I want to sleep.

  “Wake up.”

  I open my eyes. We’re still in the shuttle. “Are we there?” I ask. “How long have we been flying?”

  “Not long.” He shoves me away from him into one of the seats. “Put your safety belt on.” His words are rushed, and his hands fumble with the straps at my waist. I thought I’d seen every expression Theron could possibly make, his face the most familiar sight of my existence. But I’ve never seen this one. What is it? Panic? Desperation?

  “What—” I notice the beeping sound. My hand automatically goes to my pocket for my transmitter, until I remember they took those from us back at the Healer building. I rub my eyes and look around the dim interior. A few Batch members are walking to the front of the shuttle. Others are whispering to each other, some with the same panicked expression I see on Theron.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing.” His words are barely audible. “Put your shoes on, Nine.”

  I ignore him and look out the tiny passenger window to my far left. Lightning streaks the sky, and the rain against the glass blocks any clear view of the outside. I can’t even tell what time of day it is in the dark gray of the storm.

  A sudden banging at the front of the shuttle rattles me. My stomach flutters twice as the shuttle drops suddenly before leveling out again. It’s like I’m on one of those thrill rides at the Freedom exposition. My mouth goes dry as I clench my fingers around my safety belt. This is a ride I want to get off. Right now.

  “I said put your shoes on.” Theron yanks my leg toward him and shoves one of my shoes on, his fingers shaking as he ties the laces into a mess of knots I know I’ll never get out. I don’t have the heart to tell him it’s the wrong foot.

  “Th . . . Theron?” My voice is shrill, and I nervously glance behind us, not knowing what I’m searching for.

  “It’s fine,” he says. “I’m sorry. We’re gonna be fine.” He finishes with the second shoe and pulls me as close as our straps will allow.

  There are shouts in the cabin, and crying. I have just enough time to wonder if we’re crashing before large sparks erupt in the front of the shuttle and everything goes dark. The beeping has stopped, but there’s screaming now. A lot of screaming. And I have enough sense to realize some of it is mine.

  Theron pushes his mouth to my ear. “Stay with me!” He grabs both of my hands in his. “No matter what happens. Don’t let go. You stay with me! Do you understand?”

  I nod vigorously as his nails dig into my palm.

  My stomach lurches, and I hear a
groaning sound, metal sliding against metal, that must come from the shuttle itself. It’s thunderous. I can’t see a thing, but I know we are falling. The safety belt presses hard into my lap, the only thing keeping me from flying out of my seat. I squeeze Theron’s hands so hard I could burst.

  As the shuttle hits the water, my body is thrown back, and I lose my grip. A jolt of pain flows through me. The sound of rushing water fills the cabin.

  “Theron!” I move my arms frantically in the dark, scrambling for the familiar feel of his skin.

  A hand grasps my arm. “I’m here. I’m right here.” I feel him unlatch my safety belt. “We’re sinking. We need to get out. Stay with me.”

  Where else does he think I’m going to go? I don’t know how he can see anything, but I follow him with no intention of ever letting go. We stumble through the aisle to the back of the shuttle. It feels like we’re heading up a steep hill, the front of the shuttle sinking behind us. A door to the outside hangs partly open at the end of the aisle. With one swift kick, Theron knocks it off, and I watch it fall to the water that’s about thirty feet below us, but coming up fast. It’s night out, but lights on the outside of the shuttle are still working, blinking, revealing the reflection of the water with every terrifying flash.

  I look back into the cabin of the shuttle.

  Where is everyone?

  Theron grabs my shoulders. “We’re gonna jump.” His eyes briefly glance over my body with his eyebrows drawn together. He knows neither of us can swim. He should just leave me now. Save himself. He’ll have a better chance of surviving with one body to worry about instead of two. But I’m not brave enough to suggest it.

  He grabs the cushion off one of the seats and squeezes my hand. “Together,” he says. “And don’t let go.” He holds our gripped hands in front of my face.

  “I’m not gonna let go, you scab!”

  He nods with a grin and pulls me with him. Down, down. I expect to hear a splash, but there’s only silence as my body slaps the water, sinking immediately. Water rushes over me and drags me down. I kick and flail and try to breathe but it’s water, not air, that enters my lungs. Cold, freezing water. Something tugs on my hand, and my head breaks the surface. I cough out salt water as Theron drags me to the chair cushion still in his other hand.

  “Hold on,” he yells. I can’t hear him, but I read his lips through the flashing lights. I nod and throw my arms across the square pad. Behind me, Theron puts a hand on either side of me and kicks us away from the shuttle that’s still sinking fast.

  All at once, sound seems to find my ears again, and I wish it had stayed away. I hear bending metal, like a giant beast moaning from deep water. The crackle of sparks from the shuttle makes me flinch. Worst of all is the screaming. Screaming from other Batchers I cannot see.

  Debris crowds the surface of the water, and we don’t have time to skirt around everything. Theron plows forward and away from the crash as fast as he can. An otherworldly shriek screeches at an impossible pitch, and I realize it’s from the shuttle, not a person.

  “Theron!” I try to warn him, but he cannot see where we’re going, and we collide with a body that floats face up in the water.

  With a shaking arm, I push the body aside so we can get through. It’s Cree. Fresh blood streaks from her nose; it probably started bleeding again during our quick descent. Theron tells me to close my eyes, but that would be trading one terror for another, dark for dark in a horrible ocean that threatens to swallow us at any moment.

  When Theron thinks we’ve gone far enough, he moves across from me to the other side of the floating cushion. “We’re okay. We’re gonna be okay.”

  We both look at the shuttle in the water, a broken piece of machinery that will eventually sink and spend the rest of time at the bottom of the ocean. We don’t speak, just watch as it submerges. The lights finally go out on its sides and wings, then it disappears as though it had never been.

  The air smells of fire, and it’s very cold. Screams die down to sobs and moans, and I realize we’re not the only survivors. The moon is full and, as the smoke begins to settle, casts a surprisingly bright light on the water. Debris bobs up and down, and I am sane enough to be grateful I’m alive, thanks to Theron.

  “Theron.” My voice is hoarse.

  He pulls my hand to his lips and holds it there.

  “I love you,” I say.

  “Don’t do that.” His words are harsh, his eyes warm. “Don’t you start saying your good-byes.”

  His image blurs, and I can’t tell if the salt on my tongue comes from my tears or the ocean water.

  He wipes a hand across my face. “We’re going to make it,” he says, his voice solid, as though by saying the words he wills them to be true. “They tested our trackers, remember? They’ll be here any minute because they know exactly where we are.”

  I nod and look at his right ear. His bandage is gone, and blood flows from behind his earlobe. I don’t say what we both suspect—that trackers don’t work outside of Freedom, least of all in the ocean. I open my mouth to ask if his ear stings, when I notice something coming at us fast.

  “Help . . .” It’s Bristol, and his voice sounds burbly. He flings himself onto our cushion, but the weight is too much, and the pad starts to sink beneath us. I swallow water as I go down with it, but I refuse to let go. Arguing voices flow in and out of my ear, becoming distorted as I sink below the surface. I am not letting go. I scream for Theron but end up swallowing more water, so I squeeze my eyes shut and start counting.

  One, two, three . . .

  A swift kick connects with my stomach, and I curl my body in pain. But I don’t let go.

  Seven, eight . . .

  I feel the cold night air on my face and know I have breached the surface again.

  Twelve, thirteen, fourteen . . .

  I keep my eyes shut and cough out too much water. Buckets worth of water.

  Nineteen, twenty . . .

  Something grabs my hand, and I scream, opening my eyes in an instant. It’s Theron, and I reach for his other hand. “Where’s Bristol?”

  “Gone. He’s . . . gone.” Theron looks straight at me with those blue eyes I know so well. “I had to save you, Nine. I couldn’t save him too.” His hands are shaking, and I squeeze them tight.

  I feel something rub against my leg that is definitely not Theron. “What is that?” I ask, thinking Bristol had somehow returned.

  “What is what?” Theron’s eyes go wide as something large and slippery slides against our bodies. “Holy—”

  And then Theron’s gone, pulled under the water faster than I can blink.

  I scream louder than I ever thought possible. So loud it feels like my lungs will burst. “Theron!” I cannot see him.

  He’s under the water, and I can’t see him.

  And then he’s up, twenty feet away from me. He struggles to keep himself afloat with flailing arms.

  “Theron!” I reach for him. Start kicking toward him. But he shakes his head in desperation at me.

  “Swim, Nine! Swim!”

  “I’m coming,” I try to say, but I have no voice. My words scratch against my throat, dying before they can leave my lips.

  “No!” Theron manages to keep above the surface, but I know he’s in pain by the twisted look on his face. “Swim away, Nine. You kick hard and don’t stop.”

  I freeze and stare at him, trying to make sense of his words.

  “Swim away from here, and don’t stop kicking. Don’t stop kicking, do you understand?”

  I nod, but I’m still in shock, not moving.

  And then the head of a beast with a thousand teeth breaches the surface and sinks below the water again.

  “Go,” Theron yells. “Now!” He turns away from me and moves the opposite way, toward where the shuttle went down. Toward the mass of debris.

  The beast is gone, lost under the water somewhere.

  I turn away and kick. Kick and kick and kick. Crying and sobbing and screaming
from a raw throat. I kick until my legs feel like they will fall off. I kick after I can’t feel them anymore. The water turns so cold I can’t feel my arms or my hands gripping the cushion. But still I kick, at least I think I do.

  I. Can’t. Feel. Anything.

  My lips stop trembling.

  Kick. Kick. Kick.

  The sun rises on the horizon and blinds me. I don’t like the bright, so I close my eyes to keep it dark. In the dark, I can pretend I’m not alone.

  Kick. Kick.

  I think of Cree and Bristol. Their bodies lost in the depths of the ocean.

  Kick.

  I think of Theron. No. No.

  And then, in the midst of my kicking—or non-kicking—I think of nothing. It’s a blissful thing, to have no thoughts. I welcome it and let it seep through me. I grasp it and command it to not let go. Please don’t let go! Don’t leave me, I tell the nothing. Don’t ever leave me.

  In the nothingness, I hear a voice. Smooth and soothing, strong and confident. It is Theron’s voice, telling me to kick and never stop. So I do, I kick my legs but go nowhere. No—I go in circles. It’s the same as going nowhere, I think. Why does he want me to go nowhere?

  A body floats in front of me. Close your eyes, the soothing voice tells me. But I’m afraid. And the body is in my way, so I push it aside, expecting to see a bloodied nose. But instead, it’s an ear that bleeds from this dead body. His empty blue eyes are open, staring at me, pleading with me. Help. A thousand teeth emerge from the water and grab him, pull him under in an instant. I cannot see him. He is under the water, and I can’t see him. He’s gone, disappeared, as though he had never been.

  I’m kicking again, though not at the water. Instead, I kick and hit and punch and pull at the nothingness. Don’t leave. Please. Come back. I don’t want to remember, I don’t want to know.

  And then I hear a voice. But this voice isn’t smooth or soothing. It’s not Theron’s voice.