 
### REVIVED

### by Jodie Kobe

(c) 2014 by Jodie Kobe

All Rights Reserved.
Chapter one

V I V I A N

"Wake from the dead, Vivian."

The first words I hear. They enter through my ears and settle in my brain, dwelling there for a few moments before I can understand what they mean. My surroundings are one large blob, but as I blink continuously, they spread into distinguishable pieces.

A white ceiling stares at me.

The lights attached to it make my eyes water, but I can't move my hands to wipe the tears.

My body is strangely numb, and I try to move but can't. The only thing I can feel is a hard surface under my head.

A man's round head comes into view. Both his eyes and shiny forehead stare down at me.

I blink.

"And the magic words bring her back to life," he says. But his voice is flat.

"So she's alive?" This voice is muffled and sounds like it's coming from somewhere in the room. I can't move my head to see where it came from, but I know that's not important. What's important is knowing where I am right now.

But I don't know the answer to that.

The shiny-headed man turns his head away from me to look at other man in the room with him.

"Yeah, she's alive. Didn't you hear me the first time?" His eyes move back to me. "We can let her adapt to her surroundings. Let her move around for a couple of minutes."

Two beeps.

Then the feeling of a cold presence spreads into both my arms.

"Everything is operating properly," the bald-headed man continues. "So far, at least."

He disappears from my line of sight and I am left staring up at the white ceiling, bright lights shining in my face.

This isn't right. I'm not in my regular bed. I don't know what room this is.

My arms twitch, and I realize I can move them now. Anticipating metal and wires, I am relieved to find pale skin as I lift my hand. My skin.

My eyes land on something black weaving through my fingers. Some kind of graffiti I am not able to interpret. A tattoo? I don't remember getting any tattoo. In fact, now that I think about it, there are no past memories left in my mind. I'm searching for something, but my brain is blank. There is only knowledge. Who am I? Am I human?

I reach for my leg. My fingers strike some sort of material—pants?—wrapped around my legs. At least I think those are my legs.

I reach for my face, squeeze my nose, and grab my chin.

Everything's normal. I feel human.

Taking a deep breath of air, I press my palm to my chest, seeking a heartbeat. It faintly drums against my fingers, but at least it's there.

"I need a sample of her blood again." It's the same bald-headed man's voice. Promptly, he appears by my side. In his hand, he clutches a syringe.

I curl my fingers into fists and look away as the man lowers the needle down. His face is expressionless as he stabs it into my arm. A slight pinch; then it's out. The man disappears with it.

Apparently I have blood. Still human.

"The patient's blood looks fine."

Patient? This must be a hospital.

"Okay," another voice says. "That means she'll live, right?"

What?

"For the last time, yes."

Shoes clatter on what sounds like tile. They fade after a few seconds and I am left in silence.

What is this place? I slide both of my hands under my neck and push my head up, trying to get a good look around me. I didn't lift my head much, but it's enough for me to catch a glimpse of white walls, white cabinets, and the white bed I'm laying on.

White seems to be the dominate color in this room.

I skim my body, letting out a breath when I see I have a torso and legs. They feel dead, but knowing I am human lifts a weight off me.

I've been dressed in jeans and a tank top. All white. There are no shoes over my feet, so when I see my bare toes, I try to make them move. But just like the rest of my body down my waist, they're dead.

Am I paralyzed?

Panic isn't taking over my body like it normally would. My heart's not beating fast. It's like I'm on a drug. What have these people done to me? And where am I?

There are no windows here.

I can't turn my head far enough to see what's behind me, so I drop my head back down on the surface I'm laying on, grimacing as the back of my head collides with the solid object for a bed.

I shut my eyes and try to think.

But no matter how hard I try, no memories come to mind. I am not sure what I did yesterday or the day before. What if I never lived at all?

Chapter two

V I V I A N

Staring at the bright light for so long should have blinded me by now, but surprisingly, I can still see everything.

I've been listening to the silence for a while now, waiting. But waiting for what?

A tingling in my back starts, and I close my eyes in relief as I shift left and right. If I can move my back, then my legs should be able to move soon. I'll be able to get out of here.

"Not so fast, 42-2," a hoarse voice says. A man.

The number he stated doesn't ring a bell, but I think he's talking to me. My head glances in both directions, but no one is in the room with me.

Did he just read my mind?

"Yes, but because of a device," the same voice speaks. "A computer is wired to your brain, allowing us to view your thoughts. Don't worry. Once we disconnect you from the system, your thoughts will be private."

There's a pause and a man with a head full of gray hair appears at my side. He's dressed in a white lab coat with spectacles perched on his nose. He pulls them off and drops them into the side pocket of his coat.

"I'd like to welcome you here," he says. "My name is Doctor Russell Welds. Have you spoken a word yet? Go ahead. I want to see how we've improved."

I stare at him but don't open my mouth.

Improved? There are a lot of questions in my head with no answers.

"Do not worry," the man—Welds—says. "It's nothing you should be concerned about. Just speak."

I can't move my mouth.

Welds stares at me. "You cannot remember anything, I'm sure. But speak, please."

I focus on moving my jaw. Instead of triumphing, I end up holding my breath.

"You are not able to?" Welds asks.

I blink once, continuing to stare at the man as he nods.

He scratches his chin. "I see," he says. "Again, do not worry. This has occurred multiple times with our subjects. About ninety percent of speech loss was only temporary. I believe it is the response you get when your brain reacts with a certain chemical we use to wake you."

Wake me? I echo the words in my head.

Welds' expression is nothing more than blank as he says, "Bring you back from the dead. The maximum age we can accept is thirty-five. We feel if we do any higher, the process will malfunction and cause mutations rather than revivals."

I continue to stare at him. What? I was dead? This is my only way of communicating—by him reading my mind. I hope I will be able to feel my face soon.

Welds' eyebrows knit together. "Precisely."

This isn't some kind of joke, is it?

But why can't I feel anything?

He points to a small device on the wall. "Our machine is preventing you from moving. If there aren't any glitches, you should feel normal again soon."

I remember I can move my head, so I nod. Okay. May I sit up? But secretly my stomach tightens when he mentions glitches.

Welds nods to answer my question. "You can if you're capable. You may need my assistance...unless you can do it yourself."

I try to push myself up, but in the end Welds helps me. Once I'm propped up on my hands, I am conscious of something on the side of my head. My fingers run over my ear, feeling a hard object attached to it.

"That is what connects us to your mind," Welds states swiftly, seeing that I have noticed the object.

Am I being monitored? I ask.

Welds is nodding before I finish my question. "Yes."

May I move around now?

Welds takes a quick look at a watch on his wrist and answers, "Very well, 42-2. You may."

The number 42-2 doesn't make sense to me, but Welds doesn't bother explaining. Instead, he strolls over to a panel on one side of the room and dials a few numbers. After he's done, he turns back to face me and waits in silence.

Does he expect me to know what to do?

His eyes freeze on me, but I look away from him, finding my toes fascinating all of a sudden. I try to make them move, but nothing happens. He might have shut the immobilization thing off but I still can't feel anything.

He finally speaks. "Let your legs adjust. You'll be able to move them in a few seconds." He crosses his arms and continues studying me. I want to tell him to look some other way.

Welds slips his glasses back on as I watch my unmoving feet. There is no tingling sensation similar to the one I felt on my back. There is no feeling at all.

Welds sighs and walks over to me, pulling a penlight from his lab coat pocket. "Turn your head this way, please," he says, crouching down until he is eye level with me. He grips my chin with dry hands and turns my head his way.

The penlight shines into my eyes and I try not to flinch away. "Hmm," Welds mumbles, squinting at my eyes. "Everything's fine." He pulls his hand back and straightens himself, adding, "Sit still for a few minutes. The serum doesn't always wear off—"

The door to the room eases open and someone unfamiliar steps in. Nobody I've seen so far is familiar at all.

This new guy is younger than the other two doctors I've encountered. He scratches at his blond hair as he enters. The strands stick in an upward direction, appearing as if he used hairspray and gel to style it.

He holds the door open with his foot, trying to balance a clipboard in his hand simultaneously. Just like Welds, he has a white lab coat draped over him. His jeans are blue, and that is the thing about him that stands out. Welds' outfit is mostly white, just like mine.

He indicates to the clipboard, saying, "Welds."

"—immediately," Welds finishes what he is presenting to me.

The guy clears his throat. "You sent me."

"I did," Welds says, casting the guy a quick glance. Then he turns to me. "42-2, this is Rian Callum...also known as 41-5."

Rian nods in my direction as if to say hello. "Her name's Vivian, is that right?"

Vivian. That sounds just about right.

"Quite correct," Welds says, taking two large steps to Rian. He snatches the clipboard from the guy's grasp and makes his way back to me.

While examining the clipboard the whole time, he explains to Rian about my condition. "An issue occurred with her jaw, so she's not able to talk right now. We don't know how long this will go on for. And apparently, she has no ability to move her legs, either."

I stare at a wall until I hear Rian suggest, "Wheelchair?"

My head snaps in Rian's direction. Hoping Welds can still read my mind, I think, You could always just try to let it wear off. I'm sure it'll work.

Although I am not so sure.

Welds' head turns slightly toward me as I think this. He mutters something under his breath and says to Rian, "The schedule will continue as arranged."

Rian nods, asking, "Should she use the manual or electric?"

There is a pause as Welds thinks this over. "Manual. You'll be escorting her around."

I know why he chose the manual. He doesn't want me driving off and fleeing this place, whatever it is.

Welds waves a hand through the air. "Accompany her through the hall. They'll do some quick inspections and you'll give her a tour around. Is that clear?"

"I understand" is all Rian says as he leaves.

Welds turns to me and indicates to the clipboard in his hand. "This carries quite a few fascinating facts about your previous self...several years ago. I would recommend reading it. But it's your choice. Perhaps you'd like to familiarize yourself with your past?"

I nod once and he holds the clipboard out to me. Its wood feels strange and dry in my cold hands. I run my fingers over the white paper attached to the clipboard. It doesn't feel stiff or anything like I'd imagined it would be. Instead, the material feels silky and cloth-like, just like my tank top.

This is...paper? I think as I look up at Welds.

He shrugs. "More like a tablet. It functions as paper if you'd like it to. But the element differs."

I start to scan the cloth. Its absence of words rises confusion in me. Welds seems to understand so he reaches out and places two fingers on the corner of the cloth, causing it to brighten. Letters and icons fade onto the screen and I recoil from it, surprised. What?

Welds is here to explain. "In order to navigate through your documents, you need to slide your finger across the fabric. If you don't touch it for a minute or two, the screen goes dark, which saves power. According to your document, you were around late enough to know what electricity and tablets were. I'm sure your brain would remember them well after all these years."

I nod. I do remember the devices and tablets. People relied on them a lot. Although by the looks of this room, it seems like they rely on them just as much if not more.

I watch the screen of the thin tablet for another second before swiping my fingers across the cloth, slowly at first.

It moves on to the next page. The previous letters have disappeared and new ones replace it. I don't know why I'm so surprised by this. My brain tells me I've used these types of things before.

I squint at the words on the page. There is a word I recognize right away. My name. Vivian. The name after it I don't recognize too well. Though I believe it is my last name. Clancy.

Welds nods. "You are correct. I am pleased you know how to read. We've had complete fails in the past. The people revived had entirely lost their reading ability."

I wonder what he did to those people because of it.

"I must depart now. I shall leave you on your own to read it. Are you able to feel anything in your legs yet?"

I shake my head with my gaze fixed on the thin tablet.

"Very well." He detaches the small mind-reading object from my ear with a swift motion, glancing at something on his wrist at the same time. His shoes clatter on tile, and he's gone from the room in seconds.

I don't know how I'll be able to communicate with anyone now that I don't have that mind-reading object with me. Welds said a tour has been organized for me, but I hope it's not going to be necessary for me to chat with the tour guide.

The tablet screen, left untouched, goes dark. I place two fingers in the corner like I'd seen Welds do, and the screen automatically switches on, showing me the document it had previously held.

The words swim around the page as I try to focus on them more closely. My eyes aren't used to this type of brightness. Is there a way to turn it down a bit—?

I am startled when the door bursts open and an unfamiliar man walks in, wearing a white lab coat. Rian follows behind him, pushing a dark blue object, which appears to be a two-wheeled wheelchair. It consists of a normal seat as well as a back support.

The unfamiliar man stops in front of me with his hands behind his back. He waits patiently as Rian struggles with the chair before abandoning it by the door to join the man's side.

As the man begins to talk, Rian gets a quick look around the room and mutters, "Welds left."

"I assume you're Ms. Vivian. I have been instructed to assist Mr. Callum in placing you onto the wheelchair." The man gestures to it.

The clipboard in my hand gets left on the bed. Rian and the other man grab each of my arms and lower me down from the bed. It takes a while, but they finally drag me to the chair. I shift my arms and back, trying to make myself comfortable.

The other guy leaves, and I'm left with Rian. Right before we leave the room, he notices the lonely clipboard on the bed.

"Oh, you might need this," he says, strolling over to it to grab it from the bed. He places it gently on my lap and stirs the wheelchair out of the room.

As soon as I see what's out in the hall, I can't blink anymore.

It's white and reflective, just like the other room. Several people move around, but it's not as crowded as I expect it to be. At least people live here.

This hallway is different from any of the hallways I remember seeing in my past life. From where I am, there seems to be no end to it. Doors line the walls—regular doors. I turn my head, noticing that there are no turns whatsoever.

Rian speaks up, shrugging. "Uh, well...this is home, I guess. It might look odd at first but you'll get used to it. And don't get the idea that it's going to be easy to navigate through this, because it won't be. You can't enter some rooms. They're off limits. You'd have to be true scientist to be able to access it."

We advance and he tells me what some of the rooms hold. Some are bathrooms, typical bedrooms, storage closets or operating rooms.

He tells me I'm going to the testing room, where I'll be examined and asked to do a few things. But since my legs don't work, they're postponing the physical activities until I'm able to walk.

We come upon yet another white door. This time, Rian stops the wheelchair right in front of it, saying, "This is the testing room you'll be going to. Once you're done, I'll accompany you for the rest of the tour." He pushes the door open, and leads me inside.

This room is large. Scientists in lab coats hang about, talking with what appear to be patients.

A few desks line the walls, and the scientists who aren't on their feet sit behind them.

Rian leads the wheelchair to a woman sitting in the farthest corner, scribbling on an object at her desk. As we get closer, I see it's another tablet, but thicker than the one I have. It doesn't have a clipboard supporting it. She first looks at Rian, then her eyes adjust to me and my wheelchair. "You must be Vivian. I have been informed of your condition. Shall we begin on the tests?"

Rian nods before I can, letting the woman hold on to the wheelchair.

She steers it toward a door I have not noticed before. I glance at Rian to see him sinking down in the woman's desk chair. The last thing I see him do before the lady pushes me into the room is rummage through the desk drawers.

Chapter three

V I V I A N

The room is white and small, and I am not surprised.

It appears to be some type of interrogation room with two chairs and a desk in the middle. We won't be needing the other chair. I have my wheelchair.

The woman pushes to me one side of the table and takes a seat on the other side. She crooks a finger in my direction and says, "Hand the tablet over.

I glance down at the cloth attached to the clipboard-like object on my lap. Wishing I could tell her to give it back to me at the end of this session, I reluctantly hand it over to her.

She sets it on the corner of the table and folds her hands together. "I prefer to be called Dr. Janelle. No matter if I'm someone's best friend, sister, mother, or wife. Understand?"

I stare at her for a second, not sure how to answer.

She continues. "I have some questions to ask you. It is recommended that you answer them to the best of your ability. Try to refrain from shrugging, please."

I nod again.

"Mentioning this again. I have been notified of the condition your jaw is in so these will just be yes or no questions. Just nod or shake your head to respond."

She strains her head to peek at the tablet at the corner of the table. It seems to have turned on by itself.

"Do you remember your name? I know I said it beforehand, but were you aware of it being your name?"

I nod. Vivian.

"Do you know your last name?"

All I know is that I saw it back when I first got this tablet from Welds, but I can't quite remember it.

My head turns left and right.

Dr. Janelle peeks at the tablet once again. "It's Clancy. Vivian Clancy. Do you know what year you were born in?"

I nod. 2024.

"I will list three numbers. You tell me which one is your year." She pauses and stares at the tablet. "Year 2040, year 2019, or year 2024? Which one?"

I hold up three fingers, indicating the third.

She nods in approval. "Very good. Now...do you remember your previous life? Your family, pets, classmates?"

I lower my hand and shake my head. There's a mental file in my head. That file should contain the memories of my family and friends and life. But when my brain searches through it, all I see is a blank sheet of paper.

"Do you remember if you had a spouse, a house, a job?"

I shake my head. Was I married?

Dr. Janelle continues, "Do you know how old you are...er...were when you died?"

Twenty-one, I believe. I hold up one finger on my right hand and two fingers on the left. Then, noticing it would appear to be "twelve" for her, I flip the numbers.

She barely considers it before moving on to the next question. Her voice rids of emotion more and more on every question. "That is correct."

What about my parents? My brother? I remember I had a brother who was five years younger than me. Is he still alive? What is this place and how did I die? These questions should have been asked by me a long time ago, yet here I am just wondering about them now.

Dr. Janelle leans toward me a little. She whispers the question I've just been thinking of. "Do you know how you died?"

I shake my head no.

She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. "It wasn't caused by a disease or a suicide. You were murdered."

I take a deep breath through my nose. I was murdered? That would explain why my life had ended at such an early age. Although plagues or self-destruction would explain it well too. And if I was murdered...then who is responsible?

Dr. Janelle clears her throat and pushes the tablet toward me. "Can you read?"

I lift the tablet to my face and nod.

"Can you write?"

This is where I have to shrug. Although she told me not to, I still do.

She pulls a pen out of her front pocket and slides it across the table's surface toward me. "Use this on the tablet."

I place the tablet back on the table and wrap my fingers around the pen. It feels strange and thick in my hand. I transfer the pen back and forth from my left and right hand, trying to decide which hand I should write with.

I settle on my right hand, and Dr. Janelle immediately points out, "You're right handed."

Just as I look down at the tablet, I remember I don't know how to use this very well. I slide it back to Dr. Janelle, hoping she understands that I want her to open a drawing document for me, if that even exists. She does.

When the tablet is in front of me again, I gaze down at it for a moment, puzzled at what I should write. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dr. Janelle watching me intently. "Go ahead," she urges. "We haven't got all day."

I nod and settle on my name. I sound it out in my head and do my best to print it out neatly. It slants severely to the left. After my name, the letters of the alphabet follow just below it. I return the pen and tablet to her hands and wait for her to respond.

When her eyebrows furrow, I instantly know she is having trouble reading my writing.

The room is silent except for Dr. Janelle's grunts of confusion. "What exactly does the first word say?" she finally asks after I start to lose my patience. "Surely you can do better than that!" She thrusts the tablet and pen back to me and instructs me to redo it.

She asked if I could write and I showed her I could. I'm not here to improve my handwriting.

With my name rewritten, I present it to her again. She nods once and continues with her questions. "What if I told you your sibling is alive? Might you be able to remember their name for me?"

My eyes widen. My brother is alive? How can I reach him? I pull the tablet and pen toward me and scribble those words. Dr. Janelle skims over them and I'm surprised she can actually read it. She says, "Do you know his name?"

I nod. Piers. I write it down for her.

She tilts her head a little as she reads my writing. "Hmm," she murmurs.

Where can I find him? I write down.

Dr. Janelle shakes her head. "He can't be contacted. I'm sorry."

Where does he live? I scribble.

Instead of answering my question, she seizes the tablet from my hands and buries it under the table. Trying to give me a disarming smile, she says, "How about we close with a few DNA samples and finish with this tomorrow, when you're able to speak?"

I nod, looking forward to having someone else other than Dr. Janelle ask me questions. Hopefully Welds. He doesn't seem so bad.

When we get back to the room with the patients, Rian is forced out of the chair by Dr. Janelle.

Another doctor takes my temperature, injects me with a needle, and snips an inch of my hair off, storing it in a bag. I don't know what a bag of old split ends will do for them, but I stay still as he cuts my hair. After a few more minutes of sitting and listening, Rian and I find ourselves in the hallway once again.

"I don't like her," I hear Rian mutter as he starts leading the wheelchair down the hallway. "Janelle's the last person I'd like to spend my whole day with." He smirks. "How long do you think it'll take her to realize this thing's missing?"

He opens his palm to reveal a miniature glass cube. In the very center of it, there seems to be a small carving of a gray wolf head.

I scowl at Rian's immaturity. He hates Dr. Janelle, so what? Why not just forget about it?

But the reaction I get from Rian is a look of bewilderment. He smiles. "Hey, you just moved your face! That's great! It's progress." He pockets the glass cube and crouches by me. "Try humming something for a start. It might help you liven your jaw. Worked for me."

I force a short breath to escape my nose, but that's about it. Rian laughs when a smile appears on my face.

"Try humming through your nose first. Then open your mouth in the process," he says, watching me with a big smile on his face.

At first, nothing comes out of my nostrils except my breath again. But after a few seconds, I manage to make a crackled but musical sound.

I feel like a child learning to speak.

"That's great." Rian doesn't press me to try again. Instead, he starts guiding the wheelchair down the hallway. "We should probably continue with the tour," he adds.

We continue in silence. I glance around the many doors and wonder what might be inside.

Rian turns the wheelchair to the left, and I realize this is the only corner I have seen in this vast hallway. We stop, and I take a look at what's ahead of us.

It differs so much from the white hallway we've just come from. First, this one is actually lined with a dark brown carpet. The walls are painted a light brown. White doors line the walls of this corridor. I'm close to a few of them to see words printed in gold letters on their surfaces. Possibly names. I find more comfort in being here with these warm colors than being dragged around in the white environment.

Finally, the silence breaks. "I reckon they want you to know where all the bedrooms are. Everyone has their own room. There are a few people who share but only because they've chosen to. Family or siblings, for example."

Rian starts pushing the wheelchair forward. "If you haven't figured it out yet," he starts, "the rooms belong to the people whose name is written on the door. They've prepared one for you too. We're just gonna have to look for it."

He jerks the wheelchair to an unexpected stop and I nearly slip off. I turn my head in his direction to see what happened. He throws me an apologetic smile and points to the door next to him. There are two names written on the surface.

VERITY AND FAWN.

"An example," he says. "This room's shared with two people. I believe they're siblings even though I've never met them before." When we advance, he tells me we're nearing his door.

"When you first see your room, don't be surprised by its emptiness. You'll get a bed, a cabinet...um..a white carpet. Oh, and no windows. We're located underground so don't expect windows anywhere."

I give him a questioning look, hoping he might understand that I want him to explain to me why we're underground. He just frowns at me and focuses his attention forward, pointing at a door marked RIAN CALLUM as we pass it. I keep a look out for my brother's name as well as my own as we pass other doors. If he's still alive, he could live here too.

While we head deeper down the corridor, Rian starts to hum. It gets annoying after a few seconds so I shoot him a glare, but he's got his attention on the path ahead of him.

I slap his arm with the back of my hand and he snaps his head in my direction. His humming ceases and I turn back to the front again, smiling at the calmness. Rian seems to understand that his humming is irritating to me because he doesn't start again.

I have no luck finding Piers' name, but we do come across a door marked VIVIAN CLANCY.

Rian walks up to the door and says, "Here's how you open it." He places his palm on my door's surface and waits, adding, "It scans the handprint. If the DNA matches the requirement the door is looking for, it slides open. It's not opening for me because I don't have your DNA." He steps away. "Try it."

Once my palm meets the door, I feel a slight vibration. The door promptly slides open, revealing yet another white room. And just like Rian said, it has one bed, a carpet, cabinet, and no windows.

Rian drives the wheelchair inside and gestures at the surroundings. "Everyone's bedroom looks exactly like this when they first get it. You are always welcome to modify it anyway you please."

We explore around the room for a few more minutes. I learn this bathroom is twice as large as the ones I'm used to. There's a small kitchen in case I choose to eat here instead of the cafeteria, which Rian guides me to next. The walk takes several minutes, and Rian keeps talking about this place. I start to zone out halfway through so I just wave happily at random passerby until we reach a sizable white door.

On the other side, a massive room contains pure white tables long enough to cover the space from one side of the room to the other. This whole room is white as well as the others I've been to. It's like the creators of this place wasted their money on building this but forgot to save up for colored paint.

I look up at Rian. He did warn me about this place being odd at first. How long is it going to take me to adapt to it?

Rian lets go of the wheelchair and takes a seat on one of the empty tables. He demonstrates how we're required to gather and eat our food. With great posture, he emphasizes as he sits down at one of the tables, straightens his back and puts invisible food in his mouth. There's a janitor a few yards away mopping the floor, who looks up at us. I can't help but laugh, which causes Rian to twist around to face me, nearly yelling out enthusiastically, "You can laugh! Come on, you've waited long enough. You can speak."

The janitor resumes his mopping (or whatever he's doing) and doesn't look at us again. Rian's eager expression doesn't leave as I stare at him in silence. It would be interesting to speak now. What would my voice sound like?

"Say something," Rian whispers, then stressing out every syllable says, "Say I'm happy to see you."

I take a deep breath and puff my cheeks out. Gradually, these words form: "Em happ-ee ta see you." I laugh, shifting my eyes away from Rian for a second. Then I recite the words again, clearer and quicker this time. "I'm happy to see you." My voice sounds higher than I thought it would. It's strange, hearing my own voice.

Rian throws his hands out, "And you talk!"

I feel a smile tug at the corners of my mouth. I can talk!

"So," Rian continues. "What do you choose your next words to be?"

I shrug. I really don't know.

Rian stands up and starts leading the wheelchair out of the cafeteria. "How about some questions? What would you like to ask that I might be able to answer?"

I make a short list in my head. Where is my brother? Why are we underground? I'm not as quick forming these words as the previous. "Where...is my brother?"

Rian sounds puzzled. "Brother? Your brother's here?"

"I—uh—don't really know," I manage. "Dr. Janelle said—"

Rian laughs and pats my shoulder. "Janelle. You don't have to add a doctor or anything. She doesn't deserve to be called that anyway."

I nod—not bothering to ask why—and continue, "Janelle said my brother's alive. I asked her where he lives, and but she wouldn't—"

"Yep," Rian says. "That's Janelle for you. She doesn't tell you anything. Welds was the one who told me my family died."

I wait a second before saying anything, trying to study Rian's expression. But he doesn't look like he hates talking about it, so I ask quietly, "How did you take the news?"

Rian shrugs. "I don't remember them very well so it doesn't bother me too much."

"Oh," I whisper.

The rest of the trip is silent again and Rian takes me back to my room. Before he leaves me alone, he asks if I can still feel anything in my legs. Unfortunately, I can't.

He gives me a two digit number, telling me it's the phone number for his room. I don't know mine so he says he will look into it.

I sit in the same wheelchair by my bed, reading out of a small tablet Rian had given me (I'm not reading my document, but a book).

Once in a while, there's a knock on my door. I answer, as expected, only to find a doctor or scientist coming to check up on me. They give me pills, clothes, or just inject me with a needle. The liquid inside is different all the time and I find myself wondering what it is. I don't ask.

Thankfully, there's a digital clock on the wall telling me the time. I sit through a few hours without anyone bothering me, waiting for exhaustion. But I stay awake staring as the clock passes 12 PM, 1 AM, 2 AM and so on...

Maybe I'm not exhausted yet because I've been resting all my life.

Chapter four

V I V I A N

Before the clock hits 7:00 AM, I try calling Rian.

He's either a really heavy sleeper or just away, occupied by something else. And I have no idea how loud the ringtone is if there even is a ringtone.

My arms get a bit of exercise as I maneuver myself around the rooms by rotating the wheels of the wheelchair. I haven't needed to take a trip to the bathroom yet, but I'm guessing I'll have to soon.

The kitchen's completely bare of food so I have nothing to eat as my stomach begins growling. What frightens me (as I search through the kitchen drawers for equipment) is the new silverware I find. At first, they are boxed up so I have no idea what they're supposed to be. But as I pull each one of the items out, I see they're rectangular stainless-steel objects as wide as my index finger.

Something tells me they're a new and improved version of forks, spoons, and knives–all in one.

After struggling with them for a few minutes, I decide that when the time comes, I'll figure out how they work; not right this minute. I'm about to put the box away when something catches my eye. A tablet on the counter. I reach for it and place it on my lap. Black text fills the white screen. I stare at the words, trying to figure out what they mean.

It's supposed to inform me of something, according to the text I read. There seems to be no other way to exit out of this, so all I can look at is this document. I take a deep breath and skim over the whole thing.

Words about Earth, the air, and previous life trickle into my head, but they don't stop, even as I avert my eyes from the tablet.

Something is triggered in my mind, and I find myself reaching for a memory. It's barely there, but I can see it.

I see a darkened sky. I see streets. I see people with fear on their faces. They're not quite sure what will happen to them, but they wait.

They struggle to breathe. The air is too thin, too sharp, too dangerous. They inhale dust, cough it out, then collapse.

I see trees. Their trunks are rotting faster than normal, peeling apart and crashing to the ground.

Then comes the black wave. Dust, fog...mist?

Nothing then. The image leave my eyes. I groan and rub my forehead, trying to get the headache out of my head.

A deafening buzz shakes the whole room. I jump.

I realize my legs have started to move.

Forgetting about the sudden sound completely, I start tapping my toes on the wheelchair's footrest, smiling to myself.

I'm reminded of the buzz as it strikes again, followed by a beep, beep, beep.

Clueless about all these sounds and what I should be doing, I stare at the ground until the beeping from my room gets louder. What if that's how the ringtone sounds when someone's calling?

I shoot out of the wheelchair but nearly fall to the floor. The kitchen counter is there to support me.

"Alright," I say aloud. "Slow down." I guess I'm not used to walking yet.

Pressing myself to the wall for balance, I make my way into my bedroom, my eyes scanning the surroundings around me for the source of the sound. They land on a silver cube perched on the nightstand. I stumble over to it to pick it up, noticing the size is almost as big as my fist. As soon as it's resting in my palm, a familiar voice escapes out of it. Rian's voice. He sounds tired.

"Hey, is that you, Vivian?"

"Yes, it's me," I say.

Another loud buzz sounds and my free hand flies up to cover one of my ears. "What's going on?"

Rian's voice replies slowly, "It's a warning alarm. It goes off every three or four days."

"What does it mean?"

"It warns us about what's happening outside...you know, on Earth." His voice sounds hesitant.

Perplexed, I stare at the cube in my palm for a few seconds before clearing my throat and saying, "I thought we were on Earth."

I could practically see Rian shaking his head. "Uh...well...we're a couple of hundred yards below the Earth's surface, so technically, we're inside Earth. You all right in there? Nothing's falling apart, is it?"

The room looks fine to me. I cringe as another buzz sounds. "No."

"It has to be loud enough to wake people in case of an emergency."

I decide to ask, "So what is going on outside?"

There's a soft laugh and then Rian's voice follows, "Can I explain that later? I need to wake up first and get ready." A pause. "It's 7:24. Might as well wake up. I need to tell you few things. See you in..an hour, I guess."

"Yep," I say after I hear a soft click, telling me he hung up. Too late, he didn't hear you.

I settle on a quick shower. Thankfully, the water isn't too complicated to turn on. Handles and valves have been replaced with a touch panel (there are regular options for cold, warm, or hot as well as others that I don't want to try out), but it's not too bad. I've been given a small bottle of shampoo yesterday. It doesn't smell too bad. Something with flowers and coconuts.

I sort through all the clothes I've been handed yesterday and pick out a white sweatshirt and white jeans. The only blue t-shirt stands out from all the white they've given me. I pull it on with the sweatshirt over it. Since I don't have any shoes, I pull on whites socks reaching just below my ankles.

Hoping this won't look too strange, I step from the room and out into the hallway, immediately spotting people and children heading back and forth. I merge in with them and stroll toward Rian's room, keeping my hand lightly on the wall for support.

I don't remember where Rian's room is so I check the names on the doors as I pass them. A few girls linger by some of the doors, talking in a group. They block the corridor.

As I mutter an "excuse me" to them, one turns to me and asks, "Are you okay?"

I don't know if she's being mean or just cares for no reason, but I answer her. "Yeah. Why?"

She points to my feet and I think she's criticizing me for wearing socks without shoes. She must think I'm crazy, that's why she asked if I am okay. But instead, she says, "I noticed you were limping." By now, her small group of friends have turned their attention toward me.

It's because I haven't mastered walking yet, I want to tell her.

Instead, I say, "I'm fine. I bumped my ankle on a door frame a few minutes ago." If I started telling her about how I was revived yesterday and had to be dragged around by a tour guide the whole day in a wheelchair, she'd classify me as "the new girl" and might cling to me all day, providing me with "help." I don't want that. I have Rian.

"Are you sure you didn't sprain it?" Her eyebrows knit in worry although I do not care.

I wave her away and continue walking. "I'll be fine. Thanks, though." I glance back at her as I walk away and see her shrugging to her friends. I hope my limp isn't that bad.

Rian's door should be somewhere close to that main, white hallway. Glancing at all the names on the doors I pass confuses me after quite a while. I spot the name Ryan and nearly stop walking. Realizing it's not Rian's door, I continue.

After several minutes of searching, I finally come across his door. He told me he would be ready in an hour. He still might be busy, but I knock anyway.

Surprisingly, it doesn't take long for the door to open. Once it does, it reveals a neat room with more furniture than I have. A wet-haired Rian stands by the door. He's not not dressed in his white lab coat, but in dark jeans and a gray t-shirt.

I am surprised to see him this way and by the looks of it, he's surprised to see me here. He looks me up and down and a small smile lifts at the corners of his mouth. "I take it you know how to walk now?"

I shrug and ask him, "I'm not too early am I?"

He squints into the room and mutters, "7:54." Then turns back to me and says, "No, of course not." Stepping back, he adds, "You're welcome to come in if you'd like. I'm just trying to finish a few things up."

I open my mouth to tell him I can wait outside, but decide against it. I try giving him a compliment on his room as I step through the door.

"Your room looks great. How long did you live here, exactly?" The door slides closed after me.

Rian rubs the back of his neck, thinking. "I believe it's been...two years." He gives a little laugh. "But I really don't know. I hate when people ask me that."

Oops. I'm just trying to start a conversation. I hate awkward silence. "Sorry."

He waves my apology away and strolls over to a small glass desk in the corner of the room, where a black tablet lays. I instantly remember the clipboard I have not been given back yet. I still want to read about my past life.

As Rian sits down at the glass desk, I notice another object at the corner of the table. This one's familiar. A glass cube with a sculpted wolf head inside. It's Dr. Janelle's cube—the one that Rian stole from her desk.

Rian is scrolling through documents as I speak up, "Rian?"

"Hmm?" He looks at me.

"Are you ever going to return that?" I point vaguely at the cube but Rian seems to know what I'm talking about.

He leans against the chair and says, "Janelle hasn't noticed it's missing yet. But if it bothers you that much, then I can return it today, okay? Unless you want to keep it?"

I shake my head. "No, I don't. How would you know if she hasn't noticed it's missing? She might be searching for it right now, worried sick."

Rian shrugs. "Not my problem. She's lost things before. I have as well...and I've never gotten them back." He reaches behind his desk and pulls out something that looks similar to the glass cube with the wolf head. But instead of the wolf, there's a bear. "Janelle's as well."

My eyes widen. "You steal things from her?"

"I'm suspicious of her stealing things from me."

"So you steal things from her?" I repeat fiercely. "Pretty things?"

Rian shrugs again and focuses his attention on the tablet.

I keep silent with my hands behind my back, listening to muffled conversations out in the hallway. It's so quiet in this room that I hear my stomach grumble a few times. Since Rian is so focused on the tablet, I don't think he hears the rumbling.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Rian says, "You can sit down if you want. I'll finish this and we can head out."

I nod and lower myself down onto the floor. When Rian said I can sit down, I don't think he meant the ground. There are a few chairs by the wall but I don't care. I look around the room instead.

It's the same shape and size as mine. Instead of a white bed though, it's black. The carpet is flatter than mine from being walked on but it still looks clean and white. There is a small kitchen to my left. I immediately think of food. My stomach grumbles again. What type of food do they have here?

Rian stands up abruptly, startling me. "Okay, I'm finished. Let's go. I'll explain things while we walk."

Rian starts talking once we set foot onto the main white hallway. He tells me he was assigned to escort me around for a couple of days until I familiarize myself with this place, or just get sick and tired of seeing him everyday. We are going to the cafeteria for breakfast. He warns me about it being crowded, so if I'm claustrophobic, I should tell him. But I don't know if I am so I don't say anything. We'll find out sooner or later.

We walk casually while people pass us, hurrying to get to their food.

"Is it possible for every seat to get taken before we get there?" I have to yell for Rian to hear. The hallway is noisy with footsteps and voices.

"It could happen," Rian replies loudly. "Many people eat inside their rooms instead of the cafeteria so that does free up space. Some hate how crowded it gets. Others just hate talking to people."

"Where does all this food these people eat come from?" I ask.

"People make it."

I'm confused. "Make it?"

Rian nods. "All food here is synthetic. It's created from chemicals. You mix two substances together, let them sit for a few hours, mix them again and add another chemical...and you get mush, which you can form into food."

Before I can give any kind of reaction, someone rams into me from the right, causing me to slam into Rian, who stumbles into someone else, which causes a guy to drive his fist into someone in front of him. I right myself and help pull Rian up to his feet. The girl he stumbled into lays on the floor as well, her hand over her head.

A large portion of people have stopped walking to focus their attention on us. I hear a gasp and watch as Rian helps the fallen girl to her feet. She looks no more than fifteen. I hope she's not hurt.

Before I can say anything to her, a hard hand clasps my shoulder. I spin around, startled and freeze when I see who's in front of me.

Curly brown hair, tall, same eyes as mine: brown. His face is so familiar. Even though he looks taller and muscular than ever, I recognize who it is right away. He has a huge grin on his face.

"Piers?" My brother. I don't know how big the disbelief on my face is. We stare at each other for a few seconds, him grinning from ear to ear while I stand, dumbfounded.

He pulls me into an unexpected hug while I'm still dazed. He's my younger brother. Was my younger brother. He has been aging while I stayed young. We've switched. I'm his younger sister now.

When he pulls away, I manage to stammer out, "H-h-how old are you?"

To me, he looks past twenty-five. He's actually grown really tall. I have to look up to see his face.

How long have I been dead?

Piers' voice is low when he speaks. Not at all what I've remembered it sounding. "Twenty-nine. Aren't you proud of me, little sis?"

He's still beaming while I can't even plaster a fake smile on my face. I'm suddenly aware of the silence in the hallway with Piers' voice echoing off the walls. I glance around the room and meet Rian's gaze. The look on his face tells me he's shocked as much as the people who had stopped to watch us. I doubt they understand what's going on.

"What a happy family reunion," Piers says. I don't understand why he ran into me like that. Is he insane?

"Why did you do that?" My voices rises. "Slamming hard into people isn't a greeting! You hurt someone." I gesture to the girl still standing next to Rian. He has an arm drooped protectively over her shoulders. She still has her hand over the side of her head, and her eyes are cast down to the ground.

Piers grimaces and the smile finally wears off his face. "Sorry, I got too excited. But come on, didn't you miss me? I'll be honest, I missed you."

I'm still furious. If Piers would have introduced himself differently without using violence, I might have been jumping up and down with joy. But smacking into me to get my attention? I'm not calming down that easily.

"Yeah, I missed you," I say sharply. "But you just had to run at me, didn't you?"

Piers frowns and crosses his arms. "Look, you should be ecstatic seeing your brother alive and well. Just because I made some stupid mistake doesn't mean you should start whining and pouting. Be tough." He spreads his arms out. "You don't look wounded to me. Does anything hurt?"

I shake my head. I still can't get over the fact that he's grown so much. "I just think it's strange seeing you older than me," I say.

Piers pulls me in for another hug and this time I return it, putting a small smile on my face.

People have finally started to move away, losing interest in our conversation. But Rian still stands there with the girl by his side.

"You're heading down for breakfast, yeah?" Piers asks me. "Come on, let's go before all the good spots are taken. I'll introduce you to my friends."

Friends? How long has Piers been staying here to make friends?

He starts pulling me after him but I stop him, wanting to introduce Rian.

"Piers, wait. There's someone you should meet first." I gesture to Rian, who automatically loses his current stiff stance, replacing it with a more relaxed one. "This is Rian. He'll be my guide for a few days until I know how to get around by myself." I face Rian and say, "Rian, this is Piers, my brother. He's supposed to be five years younger than me but—"

"Blame science," Piers cuts in. "Science made me into what I am today."

Rian's forehead creases. "And what exactly are you today?"

Piers grins. "Older than Vivian."

He bursts into laughter at the stupid joke while Rian and I exchange glances. I shrug and we both wait until Piers calms down. It doesn't take too long, but the young girl by Rian's side decides she has had enough of us. She ducks from under Rian's arm and dashes away. Rian watches her go.

Rian laughs."I guess she didn't get hurt that bad."

I'm about to say something to him when Piers interrupts. "Sorry about that. It's not your fault." He stretches his hand out to Rian. "It's nice to meet you, by the way."

Rian doesn't seem to want to shake Piers' hand. If a large muscular guy offered to shake my hand, I would be reluctant to do so too. I wouldn't know how strong his grip would be. My puny hand would be crushed.

Rian finally shakes Piers' hand although the act looks wimpy and limp. I want to laugh because of how small Rian looks compared to Piers. Though I doubt I look any bigger.

We start walking with the rest of the people toward the cafeteria. Piers is the one who starts talking.

"It's good to see you two. Although I barely know you." Piers points at Rian. But Rian seems to have his mind wandering elsewhere.

Piers reaches out and starts ruffling my hair. I duck away from him and he laughs. "You look so scrawny, Viv. What's up?"

I shrug and say, "I could ask you the same thing. What happened to you? You used to be scrawny and short, now you're..." I gesture to my brother.

Piers pats his biceps and laughs again. "You heard of something called working out?"

I am about to ask when he started, but we reach the large cafeteria doors. The entrance is jammed with people, and I'm not quite sure how we're going to get through.

All three of us are instantly separated as others start streaming in and pushing people out of the way.

I glance at Rian and Piers, who are now a few feet away from me. There is no space left to squeeze past anyone to get to them, so I decide to stay where I am.

I finally get past the doorway. There is a long line ahead of me, but I can tell it's moving fast.

The long tables are filled and I'm wondering how in the world people find open spots in this place. This reminds me a lot of school, and I'll probably be the lonely person with no one to talk to.

Rian and Piers have completely disappeared so I'm left standing here by myself, clueless to how I should get my food. Do I just pick it up? Say something and they give it to me? Where's Rian?

As the line continues to move, I listen to the conversation around me. If the front of the line was in my line of sight, I would be observing it every step of the way.

Soon there are only three people in my way of getting my food. I peek over their shoulders to observe their actions.

I see a touch panel. The guy in front of it types something, walks over to a small conveyor belt, and waits. A few items slide out, and the guy picks them up.

Looks easy enough.

Okay, my turn now.

I reach the panel and stop, my eyes skimming over the blue screen. There appears to be a list of various foods. Synthetic foods. Rian told me all of this food is man-made.

My hand wavers over the panel before I press a random food I've never heard of before. Reeflins.

The second word I choose falls under the BEVERAGE category on the list. Water.

I move away, and the next person goes. The conveyor belt spits out a rectangular can and some kind of spherical object wrapped in what appears to be cloth. Reeflins, I'm guessing?

With the food and beverage, I move through an aisle between the tables, searching for a place to sit.

As I spot a few people standing in the corners and eating their food, I start to doubt there are anymore open seats left. If people standing, should I stand too? Piers or Rian can find me faster this way.

Sighing, I head over to one of the farthest corners in the room. Three girls hang out here, but I avoid them.

I sit down in the corner, surprised by how clean the floor looks. Once I start unfolding the cloth from the reeflin, the three girls slide over to me with smiles on their faces. They look to be somewhere between thirteen and sixteen. Younger than me, for sure.

Like most of the people here, they wear white clothing. The girl with her hair pulled into a ponytail is the first talk to me.

"So," she says. "You don't have anywhere else to sit?"

I shake my head and pick up my can, trying to find a way to open it.

The girl continues, pointing to the reeflin. "You like reeflins?"

I almost shake my head, wanting to tell her this is my first time being here. "I want to try them," I say instead.

She grimaces. "They're not very good." The other two girls nod in agreement.

I shrug, unsure of how I should answer that.

I pull the cloth open and stare at what's in front of me. Some kind of bread. Not what I am expecting.

"What's inside it?" I ask the ponytail girl.

"Uh..." she turns to one of the girls for help but they just shrug. "Something brown, I think."

I'm almost reluctant to try it. But not because they said it'll be gross, but because I feel awkward with the three girls staring at me, waiting for my reaction. I tear a piece off and pop it into my mouth. It's hard to chew, I can say that. But as I swallow it, I realize it's not that bad. I reach for another piece.

"You like it?"

I shrug. Yes, I do.

They finally move away from me and start whispering. I strain my ears to try to listen to what they are saying, wondering if they're talking about me. But they're too quiet.

I'm halfway done with the reeflin when I start wondering where the trash bin is. All these problems with no one here to answer them.

"Vivian!" A voices booms out, causing me to jump. It's definitely my brother, I conclude as I look up to see who the voice belongs to. Yep, sure is.

Piers is heading my way, followed by two guys who I believe are his friends.

"Vivian," Piers repeats again. "What are you doing here?" He motions to the corner I'm sitting in. I notice a few people have turned my way. Oh, why does Piers attract attention to me that easily?

"I couldn't find anywhere else to sit," I mutter, glancing down at the food in my hand. "Where's Rian?"

"I assume the tour guide's hanging out with his friends. I saw you sitting here all by yourself and I started laughing." Piers grins.

"Yes. Thanks for that," I say, getting to my feet. I hand him my can of water. "Can you open this?"

He raises his eyebrows in confusion. "What is that?"

"I honestly don't know. Water?"

He nods and twists the can with both of his hands. A click comes from the can, and he hands it back to me.

Since the lid is missing, I can see a gray-ish liquid floating inside. It isn't too mushy as I stir it around.

Piers doesn't say anything else. He only turns around and starts making his way toward the tables with the two guys by his side. I follow, and one of the guys falls behind to talk to me.

"Hey" is all he says.

I reply nonchalantly with "Hey."

"How are you getting around so far?"

I look up at the guy, wondering why he would randomly come up to talk to me. Then I notice he's a scientist I've seen before. He's the guy who gave me a haircut and measured my temperature the first day I was awakened. Although he's not dressed in a lab coat, I still recognize him.

"Good," I say slowly. "How did you meet Piers?"

"Uh—he works for me." His answer sounds more like a question.,

"Piers is a scientist?" I say it loud enough so Piers hears. I didn't mean to.

"What? Surprised?" Piers calls over his shoulder. "Not what you expected of me?"

I keep my mouth shut. Never in my life did I think Piers was going to be a scientist. As a kid, he was always interested in constructing buildings. He read about them all day. That's one of the things I remember.

"How's Callum doing with helping you around?" the guy asks.

If he never mentioned anything about helping me around, I wouldn't have been able to guess who this "Callum" is. I'm not too familiar with Rian's last name.

"He's doing fine. But I need to start memorizing these places," I say.

The guy nods and jogs up to Piers and his other friend.

Piers and his two friends finally stop walking and sit down. Piers points to me and tells his other buddies around him that I'm his sister, Vivian.

A girl next to Piers scoots over to make room for me and pats the empty seat, giving me a smile. As I sit down, I notice her hair looks like it has been dyed, which it probably has. In most places it's solid black, but doesn't look like a natural color. I think I can see red peeking from the black dye.

She introduces herself to me and I immediately recognize the name from a door I've seen yesterday. "I'm Verity."

I smile. "Vivian."

"How old are you?" The girl—Verity—asks.

How old do I look? "Twenty-one."

"Oh. You look older. I'm eighteen." She pauses, thinking. "If I had to guess, I would say you're from the 19th."

"The 19th?"

Piers turns toward us and snorts but doesn't say anything.

Verity explains, "The 19th century. You know, the 1800's."

I hold my breath, trying to stay calm. Really? The 19 century? "Why do you think that?" I try to keep my voice light.

Verity doesn't hesitate. "Your hair."

My hand automatically flies up to my hair and I scoff. "I'm not. I'm from 2024. What's wrong with my hair?"

Verity's eyes shift away and I hear her mutter, "Oops."

I face Piers. "What's wrong with my hair?"

Something small hits my face and falls onto my lap. I recoil, my face scrunching up. I glance down, spotting a black hair tie. Really? Is my hair that bad that someone wants me to tie it? I pick it up with two fingers, looking around at all the people around me. I take a deep breath but don't say anything. All of their faces are serious so I don't know who threw it.

Piers elbows me and chuckles. "Nothing is wrong with your hair. Verity just has her own opinions," he mutters quietly.

"Of course she does," I say coldly. Then force a laugh. "You know what? Fine." I pull my hair up and tie it using the hair tie. My face feels exposed when I finish. I leave it like that—in a high ponytail. "Does it look better now?" I ask Verity.

She frowns and tries apologizing. "Look, I'm sorry about—"

"No, it's fine." I cut her off and give her a reassuring smile. I don't think it looks too reassuring because her face expression doesn't change. I wave my hands around my hair. "It's better this way."

She sighs and looks away, turning to the food in front of her instead. I remember the can in my hand, still filled with the liquid. I look toward the front of the room, where I see the conveyor belt and touch panel still in use. The line is there. What if Rian's still waiting?

"Am I allowed to go up there again?" I motion to the line. My stomach is still complaining. I haven't eaten for years.

Piers nods. "Yeah. It's not like they keep a record of who went how many times. I'll go with you if you want. You won't be able to find us again if you go by yourself."

I shake my head. "Nah, I'll manage." I'm not planning on going back here anyway.

Piers lets me go and I squeeze out of the tight space, heading toward the end of the line. At least it's shorter than before. I didn't leave the can of water behind. I want to try this new water.

Sipping out of the can while I wait in line, I'm surprised again by how this tastes like. I am expecting the water to have a strange taste but it doesn't taste like anything. Not even like water.

~~~

The food line finally decreases and I'm picking my food again. I grab something else this time. A bowl of noodles. The silverware is absent so I eat the noodles with my fingers while I stand at the entrance of the cafeteria, looking for a familiar face.

A familiar face like Rian's. I don't know what we're supposed to be doing after breakfast ends. Don't I have an appointment to go to? Dr. Janelle's questioning center? And how long is breakfast, exactly?

I shrink against the wall, sliding down to the floor. These people look so happy while I sit here moping around, waiting for breakfast to end. At least I know I'm not claustrophobic. I'm just lonely.

~~~

I'm relaxed on the floor, staring at my noodles until a shadow passes over me.

I look up, expecting Piers or even Verity to stand there, a look of pity on their faces. Or even a smirk.

It's my tour guide. "You look lonesome," he says.

For some reason, I feel a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Rian sits down next to me and my smile widens.

"I don't like this place," I say loud enough for Rian to hear over the noise of the cafeteria.

Rian nods. "It happens. That's why some people chose to eat in their room instead."

"That's what I'm going to do."

"Don't you want to make friends? Talk to your brother? His friends?"

I make a waving motion with my hand. "No. They think my hair's too 19th century."

Rian crosses his arms and rests his head against the wall. "Is that why you're wearing a ponytail?"

"Yep."

"Your hair looks fine."

"That's what my brother told me."

"And it's true."

I peek at Rian but don't say anything. I feel better already. Someone else telling me my hair looks fine means more to me than my brother saying this. But that doesn't mean I'll start wearing it down.

I look down at my right hand—the hand with the black swirl of tattoos painted on. "Rian?"

"Yeah?"

I show him my graffiti hand. "What does this mean?"

He holds his right hand up too. The same design is tattooed on. I gasp in shock.

"It's a type of classification," he says. "A few more people have these."

I raise my eyebrows. "A few more people? Does that mean we're special in some way?"

He hesitates. "It's...nothing you should be worried about. Just know it's a type of classification."

"Okay," I say slowly.

"Oh, and Vivian?"

I look at him. "Yeah?"

"Don't talk about it with anyone else unless they bring it up, okay?"

I'm confused. "Why not?"

"Just don't. They won't answer your question."

"Like who, specifically?"

"Doctors, scientists, Welds' brother, Mr. Welds." He puts air quotes around mister.

"His brother?" I ask. "Who?"

"Jack Welds. He's in charge around here. Their father founded this place several years ago, and he passed it on to his oldest son, Jack."

"Did you ever meet Jack Welds?"

Rian nods. "Several times. He likes to invite the few people with the tattoos on their hands to dinner sometimes."

"What?" I'm baffled. The people with tattoos on their hands? That means we are special in some way. "Why those specific people?"

"I don't know. I've tried looking into it many times in the past year. I can't seem to find anything. I've always wondered, though. What's up with us?"

"Have you tried asking?"

Rian frowns. "Don't ask them."

"I'm not going to," I say quickly. I'm expecting no answers from them so I'm not planning on asking them. Although I am a bit curious...

"Anyway," Rian changes the subject. "One more member has been added to Jack's dinner meetings. You. So be expecting an invitation. By the way, it's a formal dinner. Wear something nice."

"I don't have anything nice," I mutter as I scoop noodles into my hands, stuffing them into my mouth. "Do I have to wear a dress?" I start chewing while Rian answers.

"Yeah. And I have to wear a suit."

A noodle gets caught in my throat, but I hold in my choking cough and swallow it down. "A white suit?" I cough a little afterward.

"No. They're all black. It would look pretty ridiculous with all white."

I gesture around the whole room, trying to emphasize the white colors. "You don't say."

Rian eyes my dirty hands and the bowl of noodles on my lap. "You should probably clean up. We'll be heading to Janelle's office again. You'll have to do running tests today."

I look down at my noodle-covered oily hands. What if I smother this all over Janelle's hair? Smirking, I wipe them on my jeans, leaving faint yellow marks on the white material.

Chapter five

V I V I A N

The way to Janelle's office doesn't take too long.

There are barely any people around so we have no problems. They are still eating inside the cafeteria.

"Do you have any questions before we enter?" Rian asks as we stand in front of the same door as yesterday. Only I was in a wheelchair that time.

"Why do I need to do a running test?"

Rian sets his hand on the doorknob but doesn't open the door. "They want to see what you're able to do, how fast you can run, all sorts of those things. Anymore questions?"

I can't think of any right this minute, so I shake my head. Rian pushes the door open.

The place is emptier than last time. Now instead of doctors and scientists roaming around, they are sitting at their desks. I look over to the corner of the room, where Janelle sits with her arms folded, looking at us.

"You're early," she says as we make our way over to her.

I glance at Rian to see what his face expression is. He's calm and doesn't have any trace of hatred toward Janelle on his face.

"We might as well finish," Janelle says. "I'm glad to know you can walk." She stands up, and I follow her to a door. Not the same one I stepped through yesterday.

"I'll wait here," Rian calls after us as I enter this new room. Janelle closes the door behind her, and it's quiet except for the clicking of our shoes on the tiles. I follow her to the middle of the room, where I see a small table with no chairs. There are a few objects laid across the top.

This room is quite large, but much smaller than the cafeteria. The ceiling is low, but I know if I try jumping, I won't be able to reach it.

"Complicated machinery isn't necessary for this test," Janelle says as she catches me looking at the objects on the desk. I'm not really sure what they are, though. "You will need to run a couple of laps around and do a few exercises. After that, let us hope you won't be too worn out to answer the questions. Let's begin with a few warms-ups. I suggest taking your sweatshirt off if you have something underneath. It'll be easier to run that way." She points to my feet. "You can lose the socks. You'll slip on the tile."

I pull my sweatshirt off and drop it on the floor. Once my socks are off, my feet feel cold and exposed.

"You'll run from one side of the room to the other. Don't get too excited. I don't need you struggling on the real test. You're not timed on this one so just relax for now."

Janelle tells me to start by the door. I'll have to jog to the other side of the room, which should take approximately thirty seconds if I go slow enough.

"This is just a warm up," Janelle calls out from the middle of the room. Her voice echoes all around.

I nod once and focus on where I need to go.

Once Janelle instructs me to move, I start jogging, quickly at first but I slow down as Janelle informs me of my speed.

The rest of the exercises pass quickly. I have to run here to there, jump a few times, run again. By the end, I'm exhausted and about ready to give up. But I remember there's one more part left.

The questions. I groan, about to collapse. I'm not in shape.

Janelle heads toward the door, and I stumble after her. My face must be red.

"We're about to head into the questioning room," she tells me. "Pull yourself together and stand up straight."

I try my best. Once we're back in the room with Janelle's desk, I spot Rian in Janelle's chair, sitting innocently with his hands behind his head. He doesn't look like he's been digging through Janelle's stuff, which I'm sure he has been.

I cast a glance at Rian before we enter the interrogation room. He gives me a smile.

I'm sitting at the same table I did yesterday, only now I'm actually in a chair and not in a wheelchair. Janelle sits across from me once again.

She takes a deep breath before speaking. "Before we begin, I need to ask you an irrelevant question." She leans forward a little, bringing her voice down to a whisper. "Where is the glass cube?"

I go rigid. She's talking about the glass thing. She does care. Did Rian return it to her just now?

"I don't know," I answer.

Her eyes narrow and she sits up straight. "Alright. I have my suspicions on who it is." Her voice shifts into a lighter tone, and she continues. "Anyway. On with the questions."

Janelle asks me about the things I think I would enjoy doing and things I dislike. I'm not sure why these first questions are necessary, but I cooperate.

She tells me the number I'm classified with is 42-2. I don't have to memorize it or do anything with it. This is just their system of organization. It makes it easier for them to find us based on this number.

She asks me questions about the exercises and I answer them as best I can. I can tell Janelle's tired because of how her voice shifts into a dull monotone.

I'm not sure how much time has passed when Janelle stands up, but I gladly follow. She adds one more thing before leading me out. "You are invited to dinner with Jack Welds, the leader of this building. Others will show up so you won't be alone. You are expected to arrive on time. 6:30 PM. Wear something formal and please don't make a fool of yourself. Behave." With that, she opens the door for me, and I step out of the room.

Our gaze shifts to Rian simultaneously. He has dozed off on Janelle's chair, his arms spread out across her desk with his head resting on the surface.

Janelle snorts and strolls over to him, sweeping his arms off the table. He jolts awake immediately, looking lost for a second. A grin appears on his face when he realizes he has just fallen asleep on Janelle's property.

"Up," Janelle orders sharply.

Rian jumps out from her chair and practically flies over to me, staring innocently in the other direction.

"Jack Welds would like to meet Ms. Clancy. I propose you help her choose something proper. Please," she adds.

Rian gives her one nod before he starts walking toward the exit door. I go after him, watching Janelle sit down at her desk, muttering to herself.

Rian picks up his pace as we walk down the white hallway. I struggle to catch up to him. "Where are we going next?" I ask, trying to dodge a few people striding past me.

"Your dear brother, Piers."

"Why walk so fast?"

"Don't know." Rian glances at me and slows down.

"What do you need my brother for?" I fall into step beside him.

"Well," Rian starts. "You know...I have a life. I work. I turn stuff in. I'm not just your tour guide."

"So you're going to work and I'm following you there?"

Rian shrugs. "I guess so."

"Do you work for my brother?"

"No. I only said I'm going to your brother because I've seen him work wherever I work."

"You knew him before?"

"I've seen him only a couple of times."

"How long has he been working here, do you know?"

"Years. I've only been alive for two."

"Oh."

~~~

It turns out Rian's job is tedious. He's asked to sit in a chair and supervise a few flasks or test tubes. Over time, the chemicals inside evolve into something else. Rian has to take note of that on a tablet. And I sit right next to him, leaning back on my chair.

"This is really all you do?"

Rian nods and writes something down. "Pretty much."

I peek over his shoulder as he writes. He's jotting down a few colors—the colors the substances in the flasks are. I notice his handwriting is neater than mine.

"I like your handwriting," I comment.

Rian turns his head slightly toward me with a small smile on his face. For a second, there's barely any space between us, but I lean away, quickly trying to decide what to say next.

"So...how long do you sit here for?" I manage.

"How long they want me to." He stares at the flasks on the only table in the room. Honestly, the table, the two chairs, the substances, Rian, and I are the only things in this room.

"Be truthful. Isn't this job kind of dull?"

Rian lets out a quiet laugh. "I remember when the first time I got this job, I was excited for it. I mean, who wouldn't, right? A job issued to you by someplace new, you'd want to work your hardest. Prove to them you can do everything they assign you. But yeah, this job is boring." He continues writing on the tablet.

"Did you get Jack Welds' invitation?"

"Not yet. But I reckon they expect me to know I'll be invited since you are."

I cross my arms and relax on the chair. "I still don't understand the dinner thing. What's it's purpose?"

"To chat with people" is all Rian gets to say before someone enters the room. We both look up and see it's that Welds guy. That same guy who was reading my mind when I first woke up. Not Jack Welds.

"Fantastic," Welds says. "You're still working." He holds up another flask and lowers it down onto the table. "It's 2:35. Just thought you should know." He heads for the door but Rian calls out.

"Sir, Vivian needs something formal for tonight. She's expected to attend Mr. Welds dinner plan."

Welds spins around to face us, raising an eyebrow. "Unfortunately, there's nothing I can present you. However, I can inform Addison of this request. Perhaps she can help."

"That would be great," Rian says.

"Very well. Callum, you're excused."

~~~

Rian deposits me in my bedroom and I sit in silence, staring at the walls. He tells me he'll be back in a few hours so I should probably start washing up.

I finally get up and shuffle over to the bathroom, spending a few minutes trying to scrub at the tattoo on my hand and staring at my freaked out reflection in the mirror. Brown strands of hair stick out from my messed up ponytail. Did I really look like this the whole day? A few seconds of scavenging around the bathroom drawers, I finally find a brush and run it through my hair. It takes a while.

Why couldn't someone else have done this for me while I was still dead? It wouldn't hurt as much.

I take a quick shower and try washing up my tired face. After that, I throw myself onto my bed and sleep.

I am conscious of the voices but I don't open my eyes right away.

"I suppose we could just leave her here and make some excuse of why she didn't come."

Not familiar with this voice. It's a girl's voice, though.

"The flu?" Rian's voice. Definitely.

"I'm kidding."

"And so am I."

A shake on my shoulder brings me to pry my eyes open. I turn over onto my side and stare at the two people standing in my room.

Rian and a girl. She's a half a head shorter than Rian, with black hair cascading down her face. I'm surprised when I see what's she's wearing. She has a dark, gray dress on. It reaches to her knees. She's barefoot, but I spot a pair of heels by the door.

Rian's wearing black pants along with a black shirt. His blond hair spikes up a little.

They look like they're going to a party.

"Did I miss something?" I mumble through my hands as I rub them across my face. I sit up and instantly remember Jack Welds' dinner invitation. But I don't react.

The girl with Rian shakes her head. "No, you didn't. But you do have an hour to get yourself ready." She tosses something toward me and the unknown object hits my shoulder. Cloth.

"How—how did you enter my room?" That question pops into my head. I slip out of bed and try to fix my hair, which has found its way into my mouth.

The girl smirks. "You're not the only one who has access to your room." She holds up a white card. "Works for every single room. They have extras."

I look down at what she had thrown at me earlier. It looks like the same dress she's wearing.

"So we're supposed to match?" I ask.

She gives me a wry smile. "No, of course not. You can go naked."

I sigh and snatch the dress off the bed, stomping toward the bathroom.

"We'll be waiting here," the girl adds as I shut the bathroom door behind me.

In the bathroom, I lift the gray dress and hold it out in front of me, trying to imagine how I would look like before I put it on. My hair might ruin the whole look. I'll have to put it up.

Once I struggle into the dress, I get back into the bedroom, where the girl and Rian are still waiting. They turn their heads in my direction as I enter. The girl raises her eyebrows and I anxiously start brushing the dress off as they stare at me.

"It doesn't look too bad," the girl says. "At least it fits." She tosses a pair of ballet flats at me and I reach my hands out to catch them, but miss. They hit the wall and land behind the nightstand. I let out a frustrated sigh and retrieve them, pulling them on after. At least they're not heels. "Do they fit?" the girl asks.

I nod and Rian smiles, saying, "You dress fast. Most people take forever."

A scowl appears on the girl's face. "She hasn't put makeup on her face yet."

I take a step back. "Uh...I think I'll be fine.""

The girl shrugs. "Okay, whatever you prefer."

~~~

There are six people who are waiting outside the only wooden door I've seen around here. I'm prepared to see a white room on the other side, just like the whole place. But who knows. I could be wrong. Jack Welds is in charge around here, so maybe he got himself something nice.

The girl who had come to my room with Rian is apparently named Addison. She's my age, twenty-one, and has the same swirl of graffiti on her hand just like me and Rian. I manage to catch a glimpse of similar tattoos on the other peoples' hands, and I wonder what they could possibly mean.

The others whisper to each other while Rian and I stand in silence, side by side, farthest from the door. I had tied my hair into another high ponytail, hoping it doesn't look too frizzy.

Suddenly, the girl by the door, blond hair flowing behind her, makes her way over to me and Rian, stretching her hand out.

"I've heard you're new," she says, directing her outstretched hand toward me. Her voice is quiet, but I can still hear her. "I'm Laurey, and you must be Vivian." Her voice lowers to an even quieter volume. "I only know your name because Addison told me."

I give her a quick nod and shake her hand. "Well, it's great to meet you."

"I guess you met him already." She points to Rian.

I nod again, trying to look enthusiastic. I know the girl—Laurey—wants to be nice and all, but I just want to get the dinner thing over with and get back to my room.

Addison turns to me. "Did you hear about any rules yet?" she asks. "You probably should."

Rules? I'm only half paying attention as I stare at the wall past Addison.

"You'll need to be kind to Mr. Welds," Addison continues. "He has worked hard to keep this place running."

Jack Welds obviously gets help running this whole thing. He can't do it all himself.

"If all you do is bring him down, there is a chance he will have a strong disliking toward you. It will be very visible. I'm suspicious of him already disapproving Fox, that guy over there." Addison indicates to a skinny and tall brown-haired guy. He's talking to some other dude.

Addison is about to say something else, but she doesn't get to. Her mouth freezes open halfway as the wooden, brown door finally slides open.

A man walks out. He's somewhere close to his 50s or 60s according to his graying hair, although he does have a full head of it. He's taller than all of us (except that Fox guy, who's as tall as him).

That must be Jack Welds, the leader of this building.

All six of us turn to face him. He smiles down on us and gestures into the room. "Welcome. Come in please. I am eager to meet our new member."

His head turns my way, and I try throwing him an amiable smile while I follow the others into the room. I'm the last one to enter and Mr. Welds stops me to shake my hand. "Great to meet you. I'm Jack Welds."

I step into the room and glance around. This room is pure white as well. The only thing that stands out is the purple food in bowls set in front of every chair at the table. To my horror, I spot those rectangular silverware objects. I have not figured out how to use them yet, but I guess I can't avoid it. Today's the day I learn.

"Take a seat," Mr. Welds says calmly. "We must discuss matters."

chapter six

V I V I A N

All seven of us are seated at the long table.

I don't know if it's just me, but it's awkward in the silence.

Mr. Welds exchanges some smiles with us, but only half of us return them. I'm not one of them. I was too caught up in my own thoughts to notice Mr. Welds smiling at me.

"You all look nice today," he says, looking around. Does it always feel this awkward? Could it possibly be this way because I'm here? "We have a new member with us. Her name is Vivian Clancy."

Okay, here we go again. All of the heads turn my way.

Fox, the tall guy, speaks up. "Might as well introduce ourselves. I'm Fox, and I'm glad to have you here. I hope you feel welcomed."

I nod toward him and the next person introduces themselves.

"I'm Laurey," Laurey says, waving excitedly at me.

All the names are given to me. Jimmy is the dude with the black hair. He had been talking to Fox out in the hallway.

I try reciting all the names in my head. Rian, Laurey, Jimmy, Fox, Addison, and me. So six people have the tattoos on their hands. I wonder what that might mean.

Mr. Welds clears his throat. "Before we begin eating, do you have any questions, Vivian?"

Instantly, the question Rian told me not to ask pops into my head. Instead of asking that one, I say, "Why am I here, exactly?"

Mr. Welds lets out a short laugh, but I don't see how that's amusing. "Well, Ms. Clancy," he begins. "People like being talked to, am I right?"

I shrug. "Not all." I think of the people that go to their rooms during breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Some of those people don't like being talked to.

Everyone at the table is staring at me as Mr. Welds speaks. "Yes, but meeting new friends and having conversations rises a person's self-esteem. They are content and wouldn't want to agitate anyone."

"What about the rest of the people?" How come us six are the only ones?

Mr. Welds raises a surprised eyebrow. "I meet with others as well. We discuss plans."

Why gather the people with the graffiti-ed hands into one group, though?

I nod in understanding although I need more questions answered.

"Anything else?"

I look down at the rectangular object I believe is silverware and pick it up. "How do you use this?"

Once I say it, laughter breaks out from the table. The dark mood lifts, but I feel my cheeks heat up.

Mr. Welds raises a hand and the laughter dies down. He doesn't look irate though. He has a look of amusement on his face.

"Now, now," he says. "Remember, you were clueless as well on your first day here. These new things weren't familiar to you just as much as they're not familiar to Vivian." He picks up the silverware object and twists it gently with both hands, revealing what looks like a knife. He twists it again and it turns into a spoon. One more turn and it's a fork now.

From where I'm sitting, it looks like magic. But I'm sure he's just pulling an object out while pushing the previous one inside.

I try it myself. At first I don't understand how I could find the end it opens on but slowly, I feel something turn.

"There we go," the tall kid, Fox, says as I pull out a fork. He gives me a mocking round of applause but abruptly stops when Mr. Welds shoots him a look of disapproval.

"Shall we eat now?" Mr. Welds offers. He dips his fork into the bowl in front of him and pauses to look at us. "Well? Aren't you going to eat?"

I look down at my bowl of food as soon everybody else does. It's rice, but purple colored. "Why is it...?" I trail off and Fox finishes the sentence for me, his mouth stuffed with rice.

"Purple?" He has already started eating.

Laurey is next to try it. From the look on all of their faces, they're surprised to see it too.

Mr. Welds swallows the rice politely before answering. "I wanted something light and not too fancy. I'm sure a day without pie and potatoes won't be horrendous."

A couple of people nod as they started eating as well. I watch all of them and take a small bite myself, remembering this food is completely man-made. It tastes the same way rice should taste like. I remember something like this in my earlier years.

"So how is it?" Mr. Welds asks after everyone has tried it. He's looking at me specifically.

I shrug. "It tastes like rice, I guess."

He nods. "That's what we're aiming for. Once your system absorbs the ingredients, you should have a new feeling of confidence, lightness, and joy in the morning. It might not work on some people, but it will work on others. Give it a few more weeks and this rice will be a source of every vitamin you need for your body."

A fork clatters onto the table and everyone turns to see who has dropped it. Fox. He's slumped in his chair, relaxed. His hands are behind his head and a content smile is plastered on his face.

Mr. Welds' sigh of disappointment doesn't seem to bother Fox. He only sinks further into his seat.

"Fox, please behave yourself in front of our new guest," Mr. Welds says, a cold tone seeping into his voice. "Don't be rude."

Fox just shrugs and gives me a quick glance. "You don't mind do you?" he asks dully.

Honestly no, I don't mind. He's not bothering me, though I do wish he'd act nicer toward Mr. Welds.

I shake my head to answer his question. "I suggestion you ask the others."

Fox looks around the table and everyone finally has their attention off of me.

"You guys mind me?" Fox motions to the whole table, waiting for them to answer.

Rian speaks first, an annoyed look on his face. "You should at least try to act better here. Once dinner's over, you can go do whatever it is you like doing. Just don't show it here."

Fox straightens up and faces Rian with a smirk on his face. "Oh, look who's talking! What's up? Have you finally gathered the courage to spit that at me?"

Rian doesn't say anything.

Is it always this weird during these meetings? Or is it just because I'm here? I want to leave.

Mr. Welds raises a hand again and I start to find those hand gestures really irritating even though this is the second time I've seen him do this. "Enough, Fox. You wouldn't want to be locked up would you?"

Locked up?

Fox shakes his head and his face changes to a small smile. He looks polite now. "May I leave early?"

Mr. Welds shakes his head and continues eating. "No, you may not," he says after swallowing.

After several seconds of forks clinking on bowls, Mr. Welds starts speaking again, addressing to Jimmy, one of the people at the table.

"So Jimmy, how's your new job?"

Jimmy looks up and I can see he's one of those quiet people who don't really want to talk. "It's fine."

Mr. Welds nods. "What are some things you enjoy doing there?"

Jimmy shrugs. "All I do is carry boxes and mark them."

"Ah," Mr. Welds sets his fork down and straightens up. "Your task means so much more than just carrying boxes and marking them. Those items are crucial to us."

"I understand, sir."

Mr. Welds turns to Laurey, who has already finished her rice. He opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off.

"Good rice, sir."

Fox snorts and I'm the only one who turns to look at him.

Mr. Welds nods respectfully. "How is your job, Laurey?"

"It's fascinating. I get to draw all sorts of interesting designs for this building. I've been rejected several times...but oh well."

"How do you feel about these rejections?" Mr. Welds says eerily, folding his hands in front of him.

"I've gotten used to them."

Mr. Welds goes on around the table, asking people random questions about our dreams last night, what we want to do in the future. We eat and listen.

In the middle of our conversation, an extremely loud buzz shakes the whole room. It's the same one I heard in the morning.

Everyone groans except me. I just cover my ears with my hands and wait. Mr. Welds sits there calmly without flinching as everyone else looks around and grimaces as the loud sound blasts through the room.

Once it stops, I notice Rian is staring at me. He gives me a small wave as I meet his gaze. I smile at him.

"What exactly does that mean?" I'm the first one to start talking, directing the question to Rian. "You didn't tell me last time."

Instead of answering, Rian lets Mr. Welds do it.

"It's a warning alarm. You shouldn't be too worried. It simply just tells us the radiation and gases are building up outside the Earth and they have reached a certain level." Mr. Welds pulls out a piece of cloth I assume is a napkin and wipes his mouth with it.

"Isn't that dangerous? If the level of radiation increases—"

I am cut off by Welds. "Ms. Clancy. You mustn't worry. We have this under control. Besides—" he gives me an amused smile "—no one is ever planning on exiting this building." I stay silent as Mr. Welds stands up. "I believe this is the end of this dinner. Do any of you have any new questions?" He directs his attention to me. "Vivian?"

I fiddle with my fingers under the table for a little, remembering the tattoo on my hand. That question. Why can't I ask it?

There is silence in the room for a few seconds as I debate over my decision. Ask it or not?

Ah, screw this. "Mr. Welds, can I talk to you alone for a minute?" I say. "I have to ask you something."

Mr. Weld nods and dismisses everyone with a wave of his hand.

"Go ahead," he says after everyone has gone.

I hope Rian is waiting for me outside the door. I didn't exactly memorize the way from my room to this place.

I'm still sitting in my regular seat and so is Mr. Welds. I bring my right hand up to indicate to the tattoo.

"Mr. Welds, what does this mean?" I try to sound as polite as possible so as to not anger him if this is a forbidden question. "I've been wondering for quite a while now."

"Ah, of course. I've had questions like these before," Mr. Welds starts. "Once again, you shouldn't be too worried about them. Just know they are a type of classification, just like the number 42-2. We mark people a certain way for us to know which experiment is which. If you haven't noticed yet, various people have other marks. Do you understand?"

I nod. "But all the people who you invited for dinner have the same thing I do. Why is that?"

Mr. Welds doesn't seem to know how to reply to this. He waits for a few seconds in silence. When he speaks next, he doesn't answer the question. "Ms. Clancy, if anyone mentions anything about these marks, tell them they shouldn't ask about them. We won't answer their question." He stands up and motions to the door. "I will not answer your question, my apologies. Please escort yourself out the door."

Even though I want to protest and inquire Mr. Welds about this, I obey. And to my relief, Rian is waiting for me outside the room.

"Oh, great. You didn't leave," I tell him. "I was going to force Mr. Welds to show me back to my room."

Rian just laughs and starts walking. I trail after him.

The vast hallway looks dimmer than before.

"Did something happen?" I ask, spying a few people off in the distance. I assume they're Fox, Laurey, Jimmy, and Addison. Apart from us six, the hallway is completely empty. How late is it?

"Nothing happened. They just dim the lights once it reaches a certain time."

"How long were we there?"

"Two hours."

"Two hours?"

"Yeah, how long did you think we were in there for?"

"Less than that."

"That means you had fun."

"Oh, trust me," I say. "No, I didn't. I actually want to go home." I glance down at my dress. "And change out of this. Do I have to wear the same thing next time?"

"Next time might be a long ways away. You're welcome to wear it around if you'd like. You don't have to stick with just plain white."

I shake my head. "No, thank you. I'd rather wear jeans and a t-shirt."

"Same here," Rian says, then adds quickly, "I like wearing regular jeans instead of the white ones they make me wear. I didn't mean dresses."

For the rest of the way to my room, Rian tells me a few accidents that happened while he lived here. My eyelids get heavy, but I listen to his voice to keep myself awake. The moment he stops talking, I forget every he said.

Rian notices I'm fatigued once we reach the corridor with the thousands of bedroom doors on each wall. He leads me down the hallway, but before I can reach my door, he says, "You think you can manage to find your own way back from here?"

I nod. "I think so."

Rian gives me a quick pat on the back and heads the same way we came from. I squint at him tiredly as I watch him go for a few seconds.

Then I make my way toward my room, trying to carefully focus on the names on the doors so I don't miss mine accidentally. I find it, but slower than I want to.

My room's temperature is higher than the one out in the hallway. I get conscious of how cold I am. Kicking off my shoes, I hop onto my bed and wrap the blanket around me, not bothering to change out of my dress. I'll do it in the morning.

As I lay there, I expect sleep to come. It does not. Instead, I'm left staring at the ceiling for who knows how long.

Chapter seven

V I V I A N

It's very quiet.

A smile makes it's way on my face as I notice this. There's only silence, and it almost makes my ears hurt.

My eyes are shut, so I must have fallen asleep somehow. And with them still closes, I pat the area around me, searching for the blanket I can no longer feel. Whatever I'm laying on doesn't feel like a bed anymore. It feels like...

My eyes shoot open and I immediately see where I am.

On the floor. I sit up.

I'm still in my room. That's a relief.

Grunting, I pull myself to my feet, using the bed next to me for support. The strands of my hair are hugging each other tightly, and no matter how hard I try to pull them apart, they don't let go. I just shrug and shove them out of my eyes, searching the room for what I can replace this dress with.

I decide on the same thing I wore yesterday, My hair goes up in a ponytail again, and I'm out the door. The corridor is cold, I notice, as I step into it. I am wearing no shoes again, only socks.

I feel lighter this morning. The feeling is almost like cotton, and I feel as if I'm going to float up into the air. In fact, I think I'll skip Rian's room and head to breakfast by myself.

I'll find my way, I know I will. It'll be easy. All I have to do is follow the people. They should be heading down for breakfast anyway.

~~~

Once I'm out of the bedroom corridor and in the vast, white hallway, I head toward the cafeteria, not caring about people staring at me as I skid across the tiles with my socks. They're slippery enough.

A few people jump out of the way as I run at them. My attempt to gain speed fails a couple of times, but eventually, I make it to the cafeteria.

The food line declines rapidly. Soon I'm carrying another reeflin along with the same can of water and for a second, I feel like I'm repeating the same thing as yesterday. I hope this doesn't become a regular routine.

Instead of heading over to the tables, I make my way to the exit door, where to my horror, my brother—along with the guy who talked to me yesterday (the one who took my temperature on my first day here)—stands next to the doorway.

I don't want to talk to him, but there is no possible way to avoid him. And I'm not feeling great enough to eat inside the cafeteria again. My room is waiting for me.

Taking the long way toward the exit, I slip past people. Some of them step out of the way to let me through. Piers and his friend still block the door and they won't move. Get out, get out, get out.

Then, as if by some miracle, Piers shakes off whatever his friend is saying to him, and walks away.

I can practically jump up to the ceiling. However, I still have his friend to deal with. Maybe he won't recognize me?

I scoff. Highly unlikely. There is a chance I could hide behind someone heading for the door. From there, I'll just merge in the crowd. The people have already crammed themselves in the doorway again.

The distance between the door and me decreases, and I continue dodging people until, finally, I'm at the exit. And Piers' friend has disappeared, and I didn't even notice before.

Just as soon as I'm about to squeeze myself out into the hallway, a hand snatches my wrist and jerks me back into the cafeteria. No, no, no. Not Piers!

And it's not. I'm staring into the eyes of his friend, which I don't know the name of yet.

"Please don't call my brother," it just slips out. As soon as I say it, a smile appears on his face.

"I won't. Are you afraid of him?"

Squirming out of his grasp, I reply, "Of course not. I just don't want to talk to him."

"Don't you like him?"

"I won't answer that," I snap. But of course I like my brother. I'm just not in a mood to start a conversation with him.

He just laughs and sticks his hand out. "We haven't met properly. I'm Robin Garmin. People call me Rob and I suggest you should also."

I shake his hand swiftly, struggling to hold my breakfast with my other hand. "I'm Vivian and you don't need to know my last name."

"Clancy," he says. I have to sigh with annoyance. Of course he knows my last name. "Where are you headed?"

I gesture to the exit door we're blocking. People walk around us so I step out of the way to let them through. "Obviously out of here."

"Where's Rian?" Rob follows me as I slip through the crowd and into the hallway. I wait for him as he struggles through. There is no point running for it. He'll just want to follow me. Besides, I don't want him to think I hate him. The last thing I want here is to make him an enemy.

"I came here without Rian so I don't know where he is," I reply.

Rob laughs. "You came here all by yourself? I guess you don't need Rian anymore. By the way, have you picked a job yet?"

I bite into my breakfast and shake my head. Why does he want to talk to me?

"I've been alive for two days and you're expecting me to get a job?" I say with a mouthful of food. "I need to learn how I'm alive first."

Rob cracked his knuckles mockingly, clearing his throat. "Let me clarify." I hope he's not going to tell me some stupid joke, because I'm really not in the mood for this. "I'm not sure how you died but I'll do my best to explain this. First of all, we study cryonics here. It's gotten advanced through the years so we're able to thaw frozen people from the past. You died. I don't know the cause but after your death, your body was sent here. This factory was in early development so we weren't positive we'd be able to bring people back to life at that time."

I hold my hand up, signaling for him to stop. "Hold on for a second. You're saying we as if you were alive when this was being built. Were you alive?"

Rob shrugs. "I guess so. I'm thirty. And you should know that I never died."

I blink. "And you were never frozen?"

Rob nods. "This doesn't shock you in any way?"

Am I supposed to be surprised? I mean, I know I was brought back from the dead somehow, I just didn't have a pretty clear idea of how.

We start walking down the hall, dodging people coming our way. "Do you know Dr. Janelle?" I ask Rob.

He nods. "I assume everybody does. You meet her at least once."

"She told me I was murdered. Might you know where I could find more information on that?" If he did, I doubt he would tell me. They wouldn't exactly let me search through their files.

"There's a room containing documents related to everyone of our subjects."

Oh, he just told me. I guess it's not the "employees only" type of access.

"If you'd want to look into it," he continues, "you have to ask Jack. You met him, right?"

I suspect he's talking about Jack Welds. "Yeah. Yesterday."

"You can ask him," he tells me again. "By the way, are you free this morning?"

In my head, I run through a few possible things I could do to to evade what Rob has planned out for me. None of those reasons sound any good to convince him I'm busy. "Yes, I am," I say. "What do you need?"

"There are a few new inventions I'd like to show you. Most of our patients get to see them. This tour just aids them in finding a purpose inside this facility. Want to come along?"

I give him a small nod, curious to what these "inventions" are. New vehicles? Devices? Food?

~~~

This room we're headed to is farther than all of the others I have been to. It takes us a while to get there, but once we do, I see it's not different from any other room. There are tables lined up against the walls with cabins in the corners. It appears a few scientists are working at several of these tables.

They turn their heads our way as we enter. In the very farthest corner from the door, there seems to be some sort of counter, looking a lot like it should be in the kitchen than in here.

"This is it," Rob motions around the spacious room. "This is where some of us work. We've come up with a certain number of designs for several things. Some are useless and some have proven to be a great deal of help. Shall I show you around?"

I don't see how I'll be able to work here. This sophisticated equipment is too complicated for my brain. Maybe I can get an easy job? Rian's doesn't seem to need too much brain power. All he does is sit there and record changes.

I nod to answer Rob's question. He drifts over to the white counter, kicking a chair from his path as he pulls a small white bottle from behind the same counter. Turning toward me, he says, "Hold out your hand."

Reluctantly, I obey. He squeezes a blob of a chalky white substance onto my palm (as well as his own) and commands, "Follow what I do."

I watch as he rubs his hands together, spreading the substance all over his hands. Awkwardly, I rub my hands as well. If I had to guess what this is, I would say I'm rubbing lotion all over my skin.

Rob holds both of his hands out and I gradually do the same, unsure.

We wait, our hands outstretched. I wonder how odd it might look if one of the scientists in the room were to turn around now and see us.

"Wait five seconds," Rob mutters, examining his fingers.

I do the same, asking, "What was that?"

Rob glances at me, both eyebrows raised. "Did you notice that?"

I am confused. "Notice what?"

"A cold sensation spreading across your hands."

My gaze flickers to my fingers. "No," I say, examining the back and front of my hands.

Rob is flustered. "I—uh...don't understand. There could be a chance you didn't get the right amount of lotion." His eyes narrow as he reads the label on the small bottle, muttering the words under his breath. He puts the bottle down and looks at me. "It'll come eventually. This isn't the improved product anyway."

My head snaps to my hands as a flash of cold runs over them.

Rob's eyes brighten. "Did you feel it?"

I nod, curling my hands in front of my face. "What is it?"

"Lotion gloves," Rob's mouth curls into a triumphant grin. "Derived from latex. A smear of it over the skin causes the fragment of wire and particles to duplicate and heal, creating a protective layer around your hands. That is why it is so vital to spread it across your skin."

I scrunch my face up, narrowing one of my eyes. "How safe are these?" I show him my hands.

He lets out a quiet chuckle. "There are no risks if used on your hands. In fact, the material is thin but more secure than a regular latex glove or mitten. It can withstand a maximum temperature of 300 degrees."

My mouth partly opens in surprise. "So you could use this all over your body and be able to survive in a 300 degree environment?" I grab the white bottle from the counter and inspect it.

Rob snatches it from my grasp and says, "Not exactly, no. You wouldn't finish slathering this across your face before the thin layer of lotion spreads, blocking your nostrils of receiving any oxygen. You'd be suffocated in a second. The layer could spread into your body from the nose and block the vital organs."

I take a small step back. "Did you test it on a human being?"

Rob avoids my eyes, sliding his hands into his lab coat pockets. "Uh, should we go on, now?"

I decide to drop the question and follow Rob. He doesn't leave the room but saunters over to a white cabinet in the corner.

How many people have they killed with that lotion bottle? I shiver, wondering what it might be like to watch someone suffocate and not be able to do anything about.

Rob starts talking again and I tuned back in. "...only lasted us two weeks. We do have the finished product and I'm sure you'll get it soon if you hadn't gotten it already."

Oops. I wasn't listening. Looking down at his hands, I see he's holding what appears to be a pair of glasses. "Why would I need glasses?"

Rob blinks at me and doesn't speak for a moment. "These...aren't glasses." Confusion spreads across his face. "Weren't you listening?"

Nope. "Uh..." I trail off and wait for Rob to continue speaking. He sighs and puts the glasses back inside the cabin. What he says next makes me grimace. "Next up is the hair."

Ugh. I don't really want to see it. What I'm imagining is a bucket full of head hair floating in water. I really hope that's not what it is. He leads me to the other side of the room. And when we stop walking, a job idea pops into my head. Is there one that requires walking? I don't want to sit in a chair all day long.

Flasks are laid around the table we have stopped at. They all seem to be half full and I'm glad I don't see what pictured. This is nicer than a bucket of hair.

"What are these?" I ask.

Rob picks one of the flasks off the table and stirs the liquid around. "Helps with baldness. It's a work in progress. We started making this last year."

I grimace. "You have to drink that?"

He nods, moving on to something else. "That's why I had to cut your hair. We drop it into a mixture to make that." I am disgusted by the thought of drinking other people's hair.

Rob shows me a few more of their inventions. Some I'm sickened by; some are fascinating. Then he mentions jobs and I'm forced to ask, "Is there a walking job available?"

"A few," he answers, pushing a box back into its place. "What are you looking for exactly? Shipment?"

"Sure."

Rob starts leading me out the door, and I suspect this is the end of the tour. He stops suddenly. "Oh, and Vivian?"

I push the door open and step out into the hallway. "Yeah?"

"Do you want to see what's outside?"

I'm stunned for a moment. "W-what?" I haven't given much thought about that so I don't have an exact answer. Will it be dangerous? "You have access?"

"No. You do." He lets the door shut behind us and we're out in the hallway. What he does next catches me by surprise. He grabs my right hand.

A few people glance at us and I flush with embarrassment. About to pull my hand back, I'm startled when he taps the part with the tattoo. "Specifically, this does. Or...your handprint." He points to my palm.

I take my hand back and cross my arms, hoping he won't grab it again. "How?"

He laughs and steers me away from the door we've just come through.

Not answering my question, he says, "I'm curious to what's out there. If—"

I cut him off. "You haven't tried asking anybody else with access?"

"They're all being monitored. Besides, they're all boring."

I'm about to tell him Rian isn't boring, but I remember what he just said to me. "I'm not being monitored?" I scowl, not believing this. "What makes you so sure?"

His eyes brighten. "I've seen the footage. You don't have a tracker on you."

I move a few feet away from him. "So you're just going to use me to bust yourself out of here? How do you know you won't die from sudden contact with whatever gases are out there? Mr. Welds told me there are high levels of radiation—"

Rob holds his hand up. "I won't breathe it in. I've heard rumors that there is a glass hallway stretching out from the ground for several yards. It should be long enough for me to see what's out there. So what do you say?"

I shake my head, not exactly in the same place Rob is. I'm still stuck on what my hand has access to and his theory of me not being monitored. Welds (not Mr. Jack Welds) said I'm being watched. I remember him saying this my first day here. Rob could be wrong.

"And what happens if we get caught?" I ask.

Rob just snorts. "Dara will—" he clears his throat "—excuse me. Janelle will take the blame."

Dara? "Janelle will take the blame?" I say. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

He pulls me along the hallway and explains, "Janelle has a few things arranged. She'll lead us to the staircase extending outside, we'll scan your handprint, and voilà...we're outta there. Are you up for it?" He stares into my eyes for a second, waiting for my answer.

"Uh..." I look around the room, unsure. Maybe there will be an answer somewhere around here. Maybe someone can answer for me. "I'm not monitored, huh?"

Rob lifts a shoulder. "They haven't injected a tracer in you yet, that's for sure. I wouldn't get my hopes up that they never will. It might be waiting for you right now."

I'm reluctant to go. Does Rob have a tracker?

I ask him that and he answers with, "No, they haven't given me one."

Shoving my hands into the pockets of my sweatshirt, I skid on the tile again with my socks. Breaking their rules isn't something I would like doing. I don't want to set a bad example while I'm here.

I turn around, planning to head in the opposite direction Rob is leading me. "You know what," I begin. "I'm not—"

His hand grasps my arm and he jerks me to a stop. His eyes are desperate. "Please, Vivian. I have to see what's outside. They haven't exactly led me out. Sure Janelle's plan isn't perfect, but I'm positive we won't get caught. Do you understand?"

Of course I understand! I just don't want to believe it.

Rian pops into my head. I could tell him about this. If Rob had asked him the same thing he's asking me, I'm sure he'd remember it, right?

I take a deep breath. "Fine, I'll go with you. But just to that staircase. I'm not opening any door for you. Got it?"

A grin spreads across his face but he doesn't show any signs of agreeing with my deal. I'm about to reconsider what I complied to.

Rob greets the people we pass and I assume he's trying to lower any suspicion they might have. I do believe he's making the situation worse. People might actually start to realize something must be going on.

The next time Rob's hand shoots up to wave at someone, I slap it down in vexation. "Stop." I know I did the same thing my first day here but I can't help but get bothered by Rob. He's trying to use me to escape for Pete's sake!

By the time we get down to the steps, my anger has ceased and I get a little curious to what's out there. It wouldn't hurt would it?

These are the first stairs I've seen here. Are these the only ones? Rob starts ascending them and I hesitate. I know there's no way he would let me go right now. Unless I run...

He turns his head slightly toward my direction. "Are you coming?"

I follow him.

The stairs go up for a while. I don't exactly know how long it will take us to travel to the top. Rian had said we're underground. But how far from the Earth's surface?

We're still heading up, and my feet are already sore.

Rob doesn't seem to be stressing out as much as I am.

"Hey, Vivian?" he calls as he skips a few steps, increasing the distance between us. "Have you ever thought of heading to the gym?"

I scoff and keep climbing. So he noticed I'm struggling. "How much longer?" I breathe out.

He shrugs. "An elevator was supposed to be here. They created stairs instead so it doesn't have to constantly run on electricity."

"Elevator! Pfft!" I exclaim.

I really wish the elevator was here.

We've been traveling for fifteen minutes (according to Rob's watch) when we reach the top of the staircase.

There is a narrow hallway in front of us now. It's made of gray brick. Rob tells me if I would've traveled faster, we would have arrived five minutes earlier.

Squinting toward the end of the brick hallway, I see a metal door. It doesn't look too big.

My heart rate picks up and Rob shakes his hands out. "Exciting, isn't it?" he asks.

I guess it is. What is out there? I imagine an endless field of grass.

Maybe instead of green, it's dry and dead. That would make sense. Honestly, I don't know what is going on outside, and I hope it isn't in ruins.

We slowly approach the door. I'm fidgeting with every step.

So close to the outside but... it's not too late to turn back.

Rob reaches the metal door first and turns to me, beckoning me closer. "This won't hurt." He grabs my hand again and I want to pull back.

I change my mind! I don't want to find out what's outside—

Too late. He presses my tattooed hand onto the surface of the door, just like I do to access my bedroom door.

Why me? Why these certain types of people? What's so special about a tattoo?

When I feel a faint vibration underneath my hand, I know it's being scanned. I'm not ready to see what's out in the world, but Rob's grip is too tight for me to just pull my hand away.

"Rob," I mutter quickly. "Rob, I change my mind, I don't want to—"

Beep.

The door slides open.

I can't help but recoil. A startled squeak escapes my mouth and I stare, dumbfounded, at what's in front of my eyes.

Rob is right. There is a glass hallway leading outside. It appears to stretch out for a few yards across the dirt. There is no grass.

I take a step closer to the open metal door, but don't actually walk through.

A gasp escapes me, and I suddenly feel so exposed.

It's almost like I am actually outside. It's almost like there is no glass wall existing between me and the natural air.

But there is, and it's a major disappointment.

Nature changed. It's gray and depressing, not green and lively like it's supposed to be.

Thick dust completely covers the air. If not for the glass surrounding me, I would have choked on it. And that's it. I can't see past the dust.

So there is no such thing as the open field I hoped to see.

A smirk brings me back to reality. I know it's Rob's.

He stands there, and for a second, my gut twists.

"This is all there is," he says. "And this is all you will ever see during the last week of your life."

"Wha—?"

"You're a nothing, Vivian, and that's all you'll ever be."

Before I can realize what's happened, Rob sticks his hands out and shoves me through the metal door.

My feet strike the prickly, dry grass and I start to scramble back before I can crash into the glass walls keeping me from making contact with the air.

There is a beep behind me.

My blood turns cold and I turn around just in time to catch the door sliding closed.

And I'm running, running for the door. But too late. It slams shut and I smack into it, making a loud thud.

No. This can't be happening. Rob did not just lock me out.

Chapter eight

V I V I A N

"NO!"

My fist meets metal and I yell out a few profanities that come to mind. What just happened?

No one comes.

No one knows I'm here.

This is all fake. A set up. Rob acted friendly toward me just so I could earn his trust.

My handprint is nothing special. Rob faked it. I don't have access to anything.

I can't grasp what just happened.

"You can't—" I say desperately. "Don't leave me!" I pound on the metal door.

Someone, tell me this has no seriousness to it at all.

I stop mid-pound and snap my head up to the ceiling. This hallway is connected to a tiny building that sticks out of the earth. I'm guessing the facility is attached to that tiny building, wounding it's way deep into the ground. The hallway I'm in is completely made of glass, and I find myself wondering how the deadly gases and radiation didn't seep through bottom of the glass walls. There has to be some kind of hole, right?

I'm looking for a sign of a camera. There has to be one. They need to know what goes on outside.

But I don't know how cameras look, so I don't know what I'm supposed to be looking for.

How long do I have before I suffocate? I can't step out of this hallway. There is no door except the one I had come from with Rob.

Rob. Are you kidding me? When I get out of here, I'll be sure to do something about him.

Then my mind drifts to two more people. Rian and Piers. Were any of them in on this? Honestly, I don't know about Piers, but Rian....Rian lived here for two years. He'd been frozen and thawed as well. Maybe they locked him out here just like me. This could all be a test. For all I know, I could be welcomed back into this building in a few hours.

I sigh. Rian could've been part of whatever this is.

I make a face when I think of Welds. How stupid am I? They probably had this planned out the day I first woke up.

Defeated, I slump down to the ground, pulling out dry grass from the Earth with my fingers. At least I get to touch real grass before I die.

I lay down and stare through the glass walls and up at the sky. Actually, I can't even see the sky. The large amount of dust is covering it completely. Why is this dust here?

My gaze shifts to the door. They'll let me back in. This is all just a test.

Chapter nine

V I V I A N

I struggle to open my eyes, and notice they're wet.

I've been crying in my sleep. How did I manage to doze off?

Sitting up, I run a finger over my wet eyes and notice where I am.

Still surrounded by glass. And the dust is still out there, strangely motionless.

Slowly, I crawl over to the door. My hand presses against the metal, and I hope it'll open somehow.

But I don't feel any vibration.

I sigh. How long will I be here for?

I kick the glass wall with my foot, hoping it'll give in and let me cross into the outside world. But even that's a stupid idea. Mr. Welds told me there's too much radiation out there. It'll kill me as soon as it makes contact with my skin.

Maybe someone will notice I'm missing. Someone who's not in on Rob's scheme. Possibly Piers. He's not going to hurt his own sister, right?

Sitting back down, I check the bottoms of my once white socks. Dirt stains them now, but I could care less.

An instantaneous blast pierces my ears, and a wave of fear hits me. It's the same buzz that sounded a couple of days ago. If this means danger, then I'm in trouble.

I back away into the metal door and crouch low, my eyes moving left and right. Is there something out there?

Mr. Welds had said the buzz signals the level of radiation rising.

It's silent again and I wait for another deafening buzz. Instead of getting one, the ground under my feet starts trembling.

Is this what the buzz warns us about? Small earthquakes? I don't know what they mean, so I don't know if I should be worried about them or not. When Mr. Welds told me it's something I should not worry myself with, we were underground then. Would his answer change if we were all outside?

The shaking stops as suddenly as it had come, but I don't relax.

Will there be anything else coming?

Crack!

I'm yanked away from my thoughts and my gaze snaps to the source of the sound.

The glass! It's shattering!

A hard pounding starts in my ears, and I press myself further into the door.

The glass walls are the only thing keeping me from making contact with the outside air. If it shatters, there's a chance I won't survive.

Has this happened before? I wonder. It doesn't seem like it. The glass was completely flawless when I arrived. The shattering couldn't have possibly happened before.

What a coincidence. It starts breaking when I'm here.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

The cracks extend and widen, making their way around the walls toward me. I curl into a ball, keeping my head between my knees and my back against the metal door.

The explosion can happen at any moment. Glass could fly at me. I'll be cut and impaled. There's nothing I can do.

I shut my eyes and count.

One...two...three...four...five...

The snapping of glass stops and...nothing happens.

It's quiet. Completely quiet. I can't pick up any noise no matter how hard I listen. Taking a risk, I lift my head and take in the view around me.

"Wha—?" I mutter, baffled. This isn't possible.

My legs wobble as I pull myself up to my feet. Not breaking eye contact with the glass, I run a finger over the surface. How did this happen?

There are no more fractures. No more gaps. The glass has completely healed itself. I'm surrounded by unblemished glass once again. But how? Glass can't heal itself! That's illogical.

While I'm trying to decipher the reason behind all that's happened so far, I disregard the beep that comes from the door. Only when I hear a throat clear do I realize the metal door has opened. Whipping around, I come face to face with Janelle.

I point to the glass. "Uh—I—uh—the glass...what's—?"

Janelle cuts me off with a shake of her head.

Rob stands behind her looking disgruntled. I shoot him a look.

Janelle snatches my arm in a death grip and drags me through the door. Her heels click on the rocky floor as we enter the building again. Relief floods over me.

I'll be fine. Janelle's getting me out.

She shoves Rob out of the way and continues tugging me through the brick hallway. I notice for the first time it inclines downward, leading back down underground.

"W-what is—" I begin.

Janelle holds a hand up and shushes me. I go silent until Rob kicks me in the calf, causing me to stumble a few steps. When I turn my head around, Rob is trailing behind us with a vile look on his face.

"What was that for?" I spit at him, rewarding myself with a hard slap from Janelle. "Why—?"

Janelle stops in front of a wall and presses her palm against it. We wait for a few moments until, to my surprise, the wall slides open to reveal a tiny white room looking a lot like an elevator. Janelle yanks me inside after she steps into it. Rob follows.

The elevator lurches downward and I'm bewildered. An elevator? Didn't Rob say there is no elevator here?

I look at him, but his attention is elsewhere. He's slouching against the elevator's wall with his arms crossed. He lied, and I don't know what's going on with him. Why did he do this to me?

I try again. "Dr. Janelle, can you please tell me—?"

"Stop," Janelle orders. She turns to look me in the eye and says firmly, "Shut up for a second."

When I nod, she looks away from me.

There's a soft ding and the elevator doors swing open. Janelle marches me out and I'm in the vast white hallway once again. Underground.

I focus on the sound of Janelle's heels clicking on the floor as she speed-walks. I'm forced to jog to keep up with her. Rob doesn't seem to be struggling.

Janelle lets my arm go and trusts me to follow her as we near a door. It looks familiar. In fact, I think we're heading to the room with Janelle's desk. And beyond it is that interrogation room I was in my first day here. We're going in there.

When we enter that small interrogation room, a wave of nausea hits me. Irritating memories fill my mind and I find myself grimacing. Rob notices and smirks, muttering something under his breath. I ignore him.

Janelle thrusts me into a chair and does the same thing to Rob. There are three chairs now. Last time I was here, there were only two. I guess someone's been expecting us.

Janelle takes a seat in the third chair and reaches up to tie her black ponytail into a bun. She says, "We'll have company soon."

She looks at Rob.

"I am disappointed in you." Her voice is almost gentle. Almost.

Rob looks down at the table and Janelle leans toward him a little, folding her hands out in front of her. "You said you overcame it."

I don't even bother wondering what Janelle means by that. Answers won't be given to me. Rob had said she would have taken the blame if we were caught going outside. By how Janelle's acting, I don't think she's part of what Rob did to me.

For the millionth time, I wonder, What is going on?

Rob's eyes meet Janelle's for a split second. He looks like a student being scolded by a principal.

Janelle leans back in her chair and exclaims, "You're an adult, for Pete's sake! Act like it. Don't lose your temper just because..." She pauses and seems to think better of it. "Of what happened."

Rob's jaw twitches. He places his hands on the surface of the table and whispers, "She deserved it."

I'm out of my chair before I know it. It topples over but dismiss it.

"What exactly did I do to you?"

Rob stares up at me, his face showing no signs of fear. I'm not trying to intimidate him.

I raise my voice. "What did I do?"

He doesn't answer. I decide to leave it at that. Just as I'm about to right my chair, he lunges at me. I recoil.

Unfortunately for him, the table is in his way so all he gets is a corner of the table ramming into his stomach. My feet lead me a few steps away from him. I'm afraid to get hit. How would it feel like?

He tries grabbing at me and Janelle's already on her feet. "Robin! Robin! What is going on with you?" For the first time, fear registers on her face.

He's running at me now. A few getaway options run through my head. The door. No! It'll take too long to open.

I sprint around the table, barely dodging Rob's clawing hands. The determined look on his face is frightening and my heartbeat speeds up. Janelle's having a hard time trying to catch him. The heels she's wearing aren't helping her. My socks aren't helping me either. I'd run better with bare feet.

Rob and I circle the table for a few seconds.

"Robin!" Janelle voice is desperate. "Stop it! Both of you!" She has moved to a corner of the room, not wanting to get hit.

"You do realize—" my voice is trembling now "—I can't do that?"

"Stop it!" Janelle squeaks out.

Rob doesn't seem to be giving Janelle's voice a second thought.

To my horror, Rob jumps on top of the table and leaps at me. I dodge him but he still manages to elbow me in the shoulder. Hard.

A jolt of pain runs through my arm and I skid to my knees, gritting my teeth. Rob kicks me in the side and a pained cough escapes me.

"S-stop it. P-please..." Tears are on the verge of flowing out. I clutch my side and curl into a ball, trying to protect myself as much as possible. Rob gets a few more kicks in before I hear a door bashing open.

The kicks stop. A commanding voice yells something and there's a thud, sounding like a collision with the table.

My head throbs and my legs turn feeble as I pick myself up. An unfamiliar figure shoves Rob against the table and the table's legs scrape against the ground as it's forced to move back from the impact. Words finally flow together and I understand what the voices in the room are saying.

"Pull yourself together!" the unfamiliar person says. His voice is low. Hold on, I recognize his voice.

It's a man, I know that for sure. My eyes blur, preventing me from barely seeing anything. I squint.

Rob has calmed down. He's sprawled out on the table looking up at a fuming...wait a second...

"Piers?" My voice cracks. Rob is Piers' friend, isn't he? How must that feel—your friend attacking your sibling?

Piers turns around and makes his way over to me. I hold a hand to my head.

Piers puts both of his hands on my shoulders and says softly, "Are you all right?"

I nod, looking over Piers' shoulder. Rob has pushed himself off the table. He would have attacked me again if not for Janelle by his side. She's saying something to him, but I can't hear it.

My eyes focus on Piers. He watches me for a moment before steering me toward the door. "Let's go" is all he says.

Piers opens the door, his hands still on my shoulders. I glance at Rob to see him yank his wrist from Janelle's grip. He attempts to take a step toward me, but Janelle's arm wraps around his neck.

Rob growls. "She murdered my father!" he spits, pointing furiously at me.

I freeze for a split second. Piers hands tighten around my shoulders, restraining me from going back to Rob. "What gave you that notion?" I snarl back.

Rob attempts to punch the air, but Janelle wraps her hand around his wrist again to stop him.

Piers hurries me out of the room and shuts the door behind him before Rob can say anything more to me. I stare at the closed door, not able to recall killing anyone. Ever. I don't even know Rob's father.

Piers hisses sharply and I know something is up. Bracing myself for whatever is coming next, I spin around, only to come face to face with Jack Welds. He's looking down at me and Piers with his hands behind his back.

I'm not able to identify the look on his face.

Chapter ten

V I V I A N

"Ms. Clancy," Mr. Welds says. "I am terribly sorry for what happened. If it hadn't been for your tracker, we'd be wondering where you could have possibly gone."

I scratch the back of my head. "Tracker? Rob said that..."

So I do have a tracker on me.

Mr. Welds raises an eyebrow, possibly curious to why I stopped talking so suddenly. "Rob said what?"

I wave a hand. "It's not important."

Mr. Welds gestures around him for no apparent reason. "You might have a few questions for me?"

I scowl. Not for Mr. Welds. "For Rob."

"Robin is occupied for the moment. Come." He points to Piers, who has turned rigid next to me. "You can continue your work. I appreciate you interrupting the fight."

"Sir." Piers gives him a nod before moving on, but not before casting me a worried glance.

The fight. Mr. Welds knows about it. So there must be surveillance cameras in hidden places.

~~~

I'm sitting at the same table I sat at during the dinner with Fox, Addison, Rian, Jimmy, Laurey, and Mr. Welds. Except now it's just me and Mr. Welds in the room.

He sits across from me, and I'm wondering why he chose to meet here. In the middle of the table, there appears to be some sort of glass kettle with a red liquid inside. A couple of wine glasses sit next to it. Mr. Welds sees me eyeing the objects so he offers, "Would you like some?"

"I...I don't know what it is." I fold my hands on my lap and sit there, stiff.

Mr. Welds grabs a glass and pours the liquid into it. "Have you heard of wine?"

"Of course."

"This has a few similarities. We've enhanced it with a few ingredients." He takes sip and asks again. "Would you care to have some?"

I shake my head and decline. "No, thank you. I don't drink."

Mr. Welds chuckles and sets his glass down. "Neither do I," he says, but I don't understand. "I'm sure you have questions. While I have the time to answer them, you should ask."

I look down at my tattooed hand. At least I know which question to avoid. "What is this place? Rob said you study cryonics."

Mr. Welds clears his throat and takes another quick sip from the wine. "Rob would be correct. This complex is still a work in progress. We started sending the dead and alive down here years ago. Whatever disease they had was something they did not want to live with, so they asked to be preserved in hopes that their cure will be found. Some hopes came true, while others have not yet."

I crease my forehead. "Have you thawed all of the people?" I ask. Then reluctantly add, "Did all of the people make it?"

"Uh...no. We have many more left. If we do all of them at once, I'm afraid we won't have any more living space available. If you haven't noticed, this building is already crowded. We're...debating whether we should....keep the rest or...dispose of them."

"You want to kill the frozen people?" I'm sure a look of disbelief is plastered all over my face. "Can't you build more rooms?"

Mr. Welds shakes his head hesitantly. "We don't want to kill them, but we have no choice. I don't think you'd be comfortable living in a room packed with sweaty, breathing-down-your-neck people."

I guess not. "That's horrible. Couldn't they have planned it out before they made this? You know, like putting a limit on how many people this building can hold?"

There's a trace of anger in Mr. Welds voice and I hope I didn't upset him too much. "We did do something like that."

Deciding to veer away from the subject, I ask another question.

"I was murdered right? Disease didn't kill me." According to Janelle, at least.

"There is a chance."

"Is there a way to possibly find out more about my past?" I ask reluctantly, not sure if Mr. Welds wants to answer this.

Mr. Welds picks up the wine glass again and holds it up to his lips for the longest time. Finally, he takes a sip and answers. "There is a way."

I nod, gesturing him to go on. He stays silent again and I sigh with impatience.

"Have you ever heard of the phrase let go of the past and start over? Not exactly word for word," he begins. I don't answer him right away so he adds, "Hmm? Ms. Clancy? Have you heard of it?"

"Yes," I say slowly. "I have. But I'm not willing to let my past go, Mr. Welds. I need to find out what I was...many years ago."

"And you don't remember?" He doesn't look surprised. In fact, I believe they made me forget on purpose.

"The only thing I remember is my brother. What happened to my parents?"

Mr. Welds folds his hands together. "They died of natural causes."

He knows what happened. I'm wondering if he remembers other people's past. Is that even possible?

"How do you know this? Don't you have other things to be worried about other than reading everyone's files?" I try my best to sound polite.

"I do. Let me be truthful with you," Mr. Welds voice is hesitant. "I only remember the relevant histories."

Silence afterward.

Do you remember mine? I want to ask.

The only sound in the room is the clinking of the glass as Mr. Welds pours more wine in the cup.

"Do you have anymore questions?" He takes another sip and I just want to smack the glass out of his hand. I clench my fists under the table instead. Can he get drunk on what he's drinking?

"Yes. Yes I do," I say quickly. "Rob said I murdered his father. What does that mean?"

"Ah...of course. Don't let that worry you, Ms. Clancy."

Again with the Don't worry about that.

Mr. Welds frowns. "Rob can get a little...deranged sometimes."

"What about the glass hallway aboveground? What's it for?"

"It's a way for us to check up on Earth every once in a while. By the way, you wouldn't have happened to experience anything strange while you were there, would you?"

The self-healing glass. "As a matter of fact, I did."

I fill Mr. Welds in on what happened while I was out there. He listens, nodding once in a while. When I finish, he starts talking immediately.

"Our new invention. We had bulletproof glass, so we thought, why not make self-mending glass?"

"Why was it breaking?"

"Something in the air caused it to."

"And you don't know what?"

"Could be the temperature. It's extremely cold out there."

I'm positive I didn't feel the cold during the time I had been aboveground. I tell Mr. Welds this and he doesn't bother thinking it over.

"Could be the glass trapping the cold out," he says.

"It can't keep all of it out. I would have felt it when I put my hand on it." Pointing to the exit door, I suggest, "We could go right now and check!"

Mr. Welds shakes his head. "Not a brilliant plan. I'd rather not take the risk of heading out there and have the glass collapse on me."

"It'll heal. You said it's done that multiple times and it did the same thing for me!" Rob pops into my brain. "We could send Rob instead."

Mr. Welds actually rolls his eyes. "Ms. Clancy, I disapprove. Besides, Rob is being disciplined for his actions."

I pause. "What?"

Mr. Welds laughs. "It's nothing you should be worried about."

I grit my teeth. Why does he think telling me not to worry about it will solve something?

We talk for a few more minutes until Mr. Welds decides to end the conversation. As I leave, I start wondering how on earth I'll get back to my room.

It's easy. Just walk down the hallway until you see that colorful corridor, I try to reassure myself. Yes, I can do that. There are people heading down the hallway that I can follow.

Shrugging to myself, I start walking. I'll find my way back.

Many people seem to be going the complete opposite way I'm going. I pay no attention to them, convincing myself that the way I'm going is correct. Besides, if they had been called down to a meeting, I want to have no part in it. I'm exhausted.

"Excuse me. 'scuse me. Pardon." I make my voice loud enough to be heard through the noise. People step to the side to let me through but some leave barely any room for me to squeeze past them. A few point at me but I ignore them.

I reach the bedroom corridor, proud of myself for not needing an escort. It takes me a while to find my room, but when I do, I ask myself if it's a good idea to call Rian. He might not be in his room. There have to be other ways to communicate with him. I just don't know how.

With nothing else to do, I plop down onto the old wheelchair with my arms hanging over the sides. No one has removed the wheelchair from my room yet. It brings back memories and I sigh.

My gaze moves over to the phone and I debate whether I should call Rian.

I get up and snatch it anyway, dialing Rian's number quickly.

"Hello?" Rian's voice answers after a few seconds of silence.

"Oh, hey," I say, my voice higher than what I want it to be. I clear my throat. "Did I wake you?"

Silence at the other end of the line. Then, "No. I'm not even in my room."

Does he carry his cube phone everywhere he goes?

I don't think Rian knows where I just came from. How fast does news travel around here? Will he know Rob locked me out by tomorrow or should I tell him?

Rian laughs. "Do you want to watch someone wake up?"

"What do you mean by wake up?" I imagine myself standing over a person, watching them as they open their eyes. Rian doesn't mean like that, does he?

"I meant watch them wake up from being frozen. Just like you woke up, remember?"

I remember. I remember that bed I had to lay on. I remember my inability to move. I remember the face with the syringe in his hand.

"How often do people get woken up?" I ask.

"Not as often as before. We don't have much room left for the people that are still dead. So...what do you say?"

I laugh. This should be interesting. "Okay."

When I meet Rian in the middle of the white hallway, he has glasses to give me. I look at them, realizing they look similar to the ones Rob showed me.

"I-I don't need glasses." I say stupidly.

Rian just laughs and shoves them into my hand. "They're not glasses. I forgot to give them to you. Most of the people have them."

I turn the object over in my hand, keeping an eye on the path ahead of me as we start walking.

"Try them out," Rian says.

I hold the glasses up to my face and squint at them. "What do they do?"

"Just put them on," Rian urges.

I look up at him. "Tell me what they do first. I don't want to get electrified. Rob told me about them but I wasn't listening."

"Rob?" Rian asks. "You talked to Robin?"

I decide to be brave and slide the glasses in front of my eyes. "Yes." Nothing happened. They feel like regular glasses. I pull them off.

"And he didn't attack you or anything?"

I let out a fake burst of laughter. So Rian hasn't heard?

He looks perplexed, asking, "What?"

"Nobody told you anything?"I attempt to hand the glasses back to him, but he doesn't take them. I shove them into his hand harder, but he just lets them fall to the floor. I bend to pick them up.

"What happened?" Rian's walk slows, and I slow my pace down too. "Vivian, what happened?"

I try dismissing it with a wave of my hand but Rian is demanding.

"Tell me."

I laugh. "You're bound to hear it from someone else." I try giving him the glasses again but he rejects it another time. "Take it," I urge. "I don't know how to use these anyway."

This time, Rian takes them from me, but only to put them on my face. "They're basically an electronic map of the whole facility. It'll help you get around. These are still in development so we don't have a finished product." He clicks something on the side of the glasses, and my left eye goes dark.

"I can't—" My hand flies up to my left eye, attempting to rub it, but Rian stops me by grabbing my wrist.

"You're fine. Calm down." He lets go of my wrist and adds, "You have to wait for it to light up."

I nod and say, "Do you have this too?"

"Yes." He pulls out another pair of glasses and slides them on his own face.

"And you still carry them around?"

"Why not?"

I focus on what I see in my left eye. The black screen has turned a light turquoise. Lines appear, shaping themselves into what appears to be a complex map. "Um," I say. "What is this?"

Rian walks faster, and I follow. "It's a map. It'll take you a while to learn it. Anyway, I told you about the map. Now you have to tell me what happened with Rob."

I grunt. "Rob...tricked me into going aboveground." I pause and he urges me to continue by rolling his head a little.

I pull the glasses off and blink as white spots start dancing in front of me. "Have you ever seen that place with the glass hallway? The one that leads outside but never actually into the open air?"

To my surprise, Rian replies, "Yes. But I never stepped out of the building. Wait...did you?"

I nod. "Rob locked me out."

Rian stares at me.

"B-but you're here." He points to me.

"Janelle got me out."

We stop in front of a door and Rian says, "This conversation isn't over yet. I'll talk to you later about this. But before we enter, you need to hear a couple of things from me."

"What?"

"A few warnings. First, don't freak out. We have a new member with..." He holds his right hand up, where I can see the black swirl of tattoos weaving around his fingers. "This. Second, the girl we're reviving is named Megan. Third, this is my second time watching someone wake up."

"Who was the first?" I don't really care. It's not like I would know that person.

Rian scratches the back of his head. "Not to be creepy or anything but...it was you."

I laugh, remembering two voices talking that first day I opened my eyes. Could that have been Rian?

"Not creepy? No?" He opens the door, leaving me no time to reply. "I don't think you'll be asked to help, so you can just watch."

We step into the room and I immediately recognize it. This is where I had been when I first woke up too.

A scientist in a white lab coat stands by a solid, metallic bed. It's the same man that I first saw. The guy with that shiny, bald head.

He turns around when we come in, a tablet in his hands. He's scribbling something.

On the bed behind him lays a girl. Wires connect to her arms. Is this how I looked like?

She is motionless, but I assume it's because she's still "asleep." Red hair is plastered on her face, and from where I'm standing I can see freckles on her cheeks.

The scientist with the tablet gives me a questioning glance. "What are you doing here?"

Rian cuts in before I answer. "She's here to watch. She's fascinated by science," he lies. "She says she wants to train to become a scientist too."

I give the scientist man a fake smile and hope it's believable. But I question the word too.

"Too?" I whisper to Rian as the other man turns back to the motionless girl.

"They're training me but I'm not too keen on the idea. Welds suggested it." Rian grimaces and points to the scientist. "Anyway, gotta go."

I start to follow him, but the scientist holds up a hand, telling me to give the girl some room.

"Ready, Callum?" the man asks.

"Go ahead."

The scientist disconnects the wires from the girl's arms and presses a button on the machine next to the girl. I wait, holding my breath.

Her eyes flutter open. Let's meet this Megan.

Chapter eleven

V I V I A N

Megan's eyes are instantly filled with fear.

I swear, if she could move, she would run.

A needle is injected into her arm, and her eyes widen even more. When the needle is pulled out, the scientist and Rian walk over to a small table in the room. In hushed voices, they start discussing something.

Slowly, I move toward the girl. Did I look this scared?

Her arms are limp by her sides and I can see she has that tattoo on her right hand, just like Rian told me she does.

Once the girl spots me, her eyes start darting around, possibly looking for a way out.

I want comfort her, but I don't think either of them want me talking to her. I give her a small wave before stepping away just as soon as the scientist and Rian finish with what they were doing.

The scientist mutters something as he walks back to her. Rian backs away until he's standing next to me.

"She's freaking out," Rian whispers.

"I see that," I whisper back. "Doesn't everyone freak out? Didn't I?"

He shakes his head and I watch as the scientist leans over Megan, muttering words.

"You didn't," Rian answers. "I don't know about the others."

We watch Megan sit up. She has calmed down, but she still moves her head back and forth.

Rian chuckles quietly as the girl reaches out to pat her legs. Apparently she doesn't feel anything in them yet.

"What?" I ask him silently.

"I've never seen anyone's reaction to this. She looks so...lost."

I snort softly. "And you weren't?"

Rian holds his hands up in surrender. "I never said I wasn't."

The scientist instructs Rian to look after her as he leaves the room to run an errand.

Megan finally has her attention on me and Rian. Her silence makes me question her speaking ability. She hasn't pulled her eyes away from us yet.

"Can you speak?" I ask her.

Rian shoots me a look, but I shrug at him. Talking to her won't hurt.

She ponders over my question before nodding.

"Then say something." I'm reminded of the time when Welds asked me the same thing.

She waits for a few seconds. "Hi." The word barely makes it out of her lips and I have to strain to hear what she said.

Rian elbows me. "She talks."

I elbow him back mockingly. "She does talk." Although I get pinch of jealousy. She can talk, but I had to wait a while to get a feeling in my jaw.

"What is going on?" Megan's voice is still barely above a whisper. "Why am I here?"

I take a deep breath and am about to jump right in to explain where she is when Rian holds up a hand to stop me.

"You'll find out later," he tells her.

Megan clears her throat, and with a loud voice, says, "I want some answers. Now. Wouldn't you if you appeared in a place like this? Where are my sisters?"

While she is talking, the door opens and Welds enters. He listens to the rest of her questions before giving her a slight smile and saying, "Ah. I'm delighted to know you're able to speak." His attention turns to me. "And may I ask why you're here?"

I don't get to answer the question because Megan starts talking again. "Who are you? What is going on? You've got to tell me or I swear I'll scream for help!"

Welds doesn't seem to care. He just introduces himself casually. "I am Doctor Russell Welds."

Megan slaps her leg a few times. "Why can't I feel my legs? Was I in some car accident? Am I paralyzed? I don't remember what happened."

"Megan, please calm down," Welds says, walking over to a table in the room. There are a few items neatly placed on it and Welds picks up an object that looks awfully familiar. It's the clipboard with the cloth-like device. Janelle returned it? Or could it be a different one?

Welds jots a few notes down and turns back to Megan. "We have already done most of the hard work while you were dead. You have—"

"Dead?"

Welds ignores her and keeps talking, "—a few more things left to do before we set you free. Not literally of course. You won't be able to leave this facility."

Megan lets out a laugh which sounds more like a choked sob. "You're telling me I'm in some kind of insane asylum?" She wipes at her face. "Please let me go." Her voice cracks. "I want to go home. I promise you, I'm not crazy."

Welds shakes his head and says, "You're welcome to leave if you want to perish."

"Huh?" She wipes her face.

"You're underground. The Earth's air isn't very safe so we live below the surface," Welds says plainly.

Megan stares at Welds.

Rian and I had been forgotten, but now Welds turns to us, "I will be heading out soon. Callum, you'll be assigned to escort her around the same way you did with Ms. Clancy. Take Megan to Dr. Janelle. Once she's done, you'll show her to her room. Her last name is Alman. Don't forget that."

I already forgot it.

Rian asks, "Sir? Isn't there someone else willing to take my place?"

Welds points at me. "If she knows her way around, she can. But let me guess..." He trails off and stares at me, forcing me to finish the sentence.

"I don't know my way around," I say.

"Then it's you, Callum."

"Isn't there someone other than me or Vivian? I mean, I already have one person to take care of. I don't need two."

"You'll be fine." He strolls over to a panel attached to the wall and enters a few numbers. After he's done, he directs his attention to Megan, who's silent. "You can walk now."

Slowly, her bare toes starts wiggling back and forth and her face lights up. In a second, she has slid off the bed and has landed gracefully on the floor. Her toes curl up and she watches us.

And she can walk? I am slightly irritated. I couldn't walk and talk my first time. Why can she?

Megan finally notices the mind-reading object attached to her ear. Her fingers reach out to poke it and the fear is back on her face. She must think she has been given a new ear.

"W-what?" Her voice is almost inaudible. I can tell she's about to pull at the object, but Welds gets there first. Once he detaches it from her ear, she lets out a sigh of relief. "Oh good," Megan says. "I didn't—I didn't know what that was."

"It lets us receive your thoughts," Welds says.

Megan freezes and her mouth barely opens as she repeats the word, "W-what?"

Welds doesn't answer. He stashes the object away and gives Rian a hard pat on the back before leaving.

I shrug to no one in particular. "I guess there's no wheelchair?"

Rian laughs and murmurs, "No, of course not. She's not special enough."

I almost laugh.

With his hand, Rian gestures for Megan to follow him. She does, slowly.

I reach the door first and pull it open for them.

Megan speaks first. "Where are you taking me?"

"Nowhere you will hate," Rian says. "But I mean...Janelle—"

"If this isn't an insane asylum, I'm expecting all of my questions answered," Megan interrupts. She holds up her right hand and points to the tattoo. "And what exactly is this? I didn't want to ask that old guy. He wouldn't answer anyway. I figured you might."

Rian starts shaking his head as I join into their conversation.

"It means they're planning on eating you," I say, meaning it as a joke. But Megan doesn't seem to be listening. Before I can continue, her elbow rams into Rian's stomach. He stumbles backward.

I gasp and reach for her hair, about to snatch it in a death grip. But I'm too late because she bolts through the door I'm holding open.

"Hey!" The first thing I do is check on Rian. "Are you okay?"

He waves me off and nearly shouts, "Just go get her!"

I nod and slip through the door. It doesn't take me long to spot a sprinting girl. Everyone else is walking.

I shoot after her with Rian right behind me.

She'll never get out of here. It'll be easy to corner her.

Rian catches up to me and I ask him, "What's she heading toward?"

Rian speeds up and I struggle to copy him. "The cafeteria or the bedrooms."

We continue to sprint after her and I notice she falters as she tries to figure out the right way to go.

There is no right way.

She makes a sharp left turn and nearly topples someone over. Rian and I are there in a beat and again, I miss her flying hair by a centimeter. We have arrived at the bedroom corridor.

Stop running!

A boy is in Megan's way. She starts zig-zagging through the hallway, trying to see if she can avoid him. Once she gets close to him, the boy's shoulder collides with hers and that gives Rian and me enough time to reach her. Once I get the chance to pounce on her, I take it.

Soon she's on the ground with me holding her wrists in place. She's too tired to fight me. Rian is by my side in seconds.

"Just calm down!" I yell into her face.

"You leave me alone!" she spits back.

The boy that had struck her shoulder runs to us with a worried look on his face.

"What is going on?" he asks.

Megan starts squirming. A few people heading down the corridor turn to look at us, but I ignore them.

The boy pushes me off of her and I'm caught by surprise.

"What are you doing?" he yells at me. "Can't you see you're hurting her?"

I watch as he pulls Megan to her feet and starts brushing her arms off. She jumps away from him and waves her hands, wanting him to keep his distance.

"Are you done yet?" I snarl at her.

While rubbing her shoulder, she turns to me. "I'm done, I'm done."

Without caring, I snatch her arm and start marching her toward the same way we had come from. I stop suddenly, remembering I have no idea where we're supposed to be going.

"Rian?" I spin around to face him, only to find him talking to that boy.

Both of their heads snap up as I call Rian's name.

I say, "Lead the way."

Rian seems to understand. He jogs over to me, and surprisingly, that boy follows. I point a finger at him.

"Whoa, dude. You aren't coming along."

He just scoffs. "Who says? I'm interested in what's going on."

I shake my head and continue to drag Megan along as I trail behind Rian. The boy still follows and I can't help but let out a frustrate sigh.

"Don't you have other things to do?" I try. He still doesn't seem to want to give up.

"Of course not. You do know how boring life in here is? Basically all you do is wake up, eat, work, sleep. And repeat."

Megan tries tugging her arm out of my grip. I don't let go.

Scoffing, I say, "Are you uncomfortable yet?"

She brings her bare foot down on my knee, but I jerk away from her before she can hurt me too much. My hand slips from her arm, and she takes off running again.

"Are you kidding me?" I want to pull my hair out. Can't she just stop running?

The boy following us seems to finally comprehend what is going on because he says, "Oh, okay. Stay here. I'll get her." He darts after her. I don't obey his orders. I dash after her as well. The more people chasing after her, the better.

Rian gives a complained grunt and follows.

The strange boy runs fast. He's already closing in on her.

People jump out of the way to let us pass. A few have started running with us as well but I ignore them. To my surprise, the boy closes the distance between Megan and pounces on her the way I had. I skid to a stop when I reach them. It takes me a minute to catch my breath.

Megan has started crying.

"Oh, come on!" I exclaim, throwing my hands up in exasperation. "If you would have cooperated, none of this would have ever happened."

Her words are choked by the sobs and she tries wiping her eyes. The boy who had tackled her picks himself up and this time, he doesn't bother to help Megan.

"I don't—d-don't want to be h-here!" she wails, curling her legs toward her chest with her back on the ground. She takes a gulp of air. "I don't know w-where I am a-and I don't l-like th-this place and i-it's s-scary and I wanna go h-home."

The boy laughs and kicks the air a little. "What? Are you new here? 'Cause I don't know if you've heard, but no one gets out. You're gonna live here for the rest of your life." He shrugs like it's no big deal.

Megan wipes her red eyes one more time before letting out a loud sniffle. She looks up at the boy.

"What?" Her voice is soft, confused. "I...what are you talking about?"

When she finally has the strength to stand up, she does. She brushes invisible dirt off her arms and legs and uses her white tank top to wipe her running nose.

The boy leans away in disgust. "Exactly what I'm talking about," he says.

Megan runs her hand across her tear-stained face. "What?"

"Uh, Megan?" Rian starts. "Do you need a tissue?"

Megan looks at Rian and freezes mid-wipe. "You have tissues?"

Rian shakes his head. "Not here. Somewhere else."

"Are they where you're expected to send me?"

"Yes."

Megan stays silent and her eyes switch back and forth to the boy, me, and then Rian. She finally says in a tiny voice. "Okay."

We have to force the boy to leave us alone. He insists on following us to where we're headed, but in the end he just walks in another direction.

Rian and I watch Megan meet Janelle for few seconds. Megan won't stop fidgeting and I'm wondering if she's thinking of yet another escape.

After Janelle and Megan disappear behind the interrogation room door, Rian plops down onto Janelle's desk chair and relaxes. I am left standing.

"How old is Megan?" I ask, trying to get comfortable. I lean against the wall by Janelle's desk and cross my arms.

Rian shrugs. "She looks younger than you. You'll have to ask Welds if you're really curious."

While we wait for Megan, I start to understand how Rian must have felt like when he had to wait for me to get done with my interrogation two days ago. I can't believe that it's only been about two or three days that I've lived here.

"You're not going to fall asleep again, are you?" I ask him.

I focus on the people wandering around the room, carrying flasks or whatever they are working on at this time.

"Of course not. I got plenty of sleep last night." He slides his fingers across the screen of a tablet I haven't noticed he's picked up.

I indicate to it. "That doesn't happen to have anything about who we were in the past, would it?"

Rian shakes his head. "Janelle wouldn't give us easy access to those sorts of things."

"Welds had given me a document my first day here. He told me it contained some information about my past life. I didn't get a chance to read it. What was written on there?"

"What makes you think I know?"

"You were the one who brought it to him. I figured you read it."

Rian sets the tablet on the desk and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out the glass cube with the carving of a wolf head inside.

I gasp. "You're returning it?" People's heads glance our way, but I pay no mind to them.

Rian drops the object into an open drawer and goes back to the tablet again, acting like nothing ever happened. He continues the previous conversation. "I never read your document. I read mine. It had nothing significant. It had the year I was born, the year I died, my parents' and siblings' names. You get the idea. It didn't have anything about the cause of my death or what happened to me while I was dead."

"Mr. Welds said there's a way to know who I was a long time ago. Do you know how I can access that?"

"Believe me, Vivian, when I say I don't know. If I did, I would've torn that place apart looking for something about me. You're not the only one who wants to know who you used to be."

"Do some people here know who they were in their past life?"

"I reckon so. If they didn't, they would've formed a riot and forced Mr. Welds to tell them."

I lower myself onto the ground and let out a breath. What if I repeatedly ask Mr. Welds to hand this information over? Would he? Somehow I doubt it.

I stare at my feet. "Rian?" I say. "Are there any jobs available?"

"There are plenty of jobs available," I hear him say. "Which one do you think would interest you?"

"Are there any where I can deliver packages?"

"Like pizza?"

I frown, shrugging. "Does pizza still exist?"

"If you like mush pizza, then sure. By the way, you don't receive any money for working. Money is worthless here."

"You don't get paid in anyway?"

"You do. Free food."

That doesn't make any sense. "I haven't worked yet and I've gotten free food."

Rian lifts a shoulder. "They have extras. We have many people here that don't have jobs."

"Could you maybe find me a job?"

Rian smiles. "Yes, I could maybe find you a job." He focuses back on the tablet and grunts, "The battery's low."

Just as he's about to put it down, the door to the interrogation room swings open and Janelle steps out with Megan right behind her. Rian immediately jumps out of the chair before Janelle can see him.

Megan's face is red so I figured she had burst into tears again.

"Mr. Welds would like to meet the living, breathing Megan tomorrow," Janelle says. She leans in to whisper to both Rian and me. "Don't mention anything about her parents or her sketchbook. She'll start crying."

I nod. I understand the feeling of missing your parents. But a sketchbook?

Megan gets her haircut and I watch as a scientist deposits the strands into a bag. Rob isn't here to do it, but someone else is. Just the thought of drinking the hair disgusts me.

Who thought of this idea of putting hair in a chemical?

Megan goes through a few procedures of having her blood pressure taken, getting a few injections, and other things I don't bother paying attention to. After all that, Rian and I lead her out into the vast hallway again. I can't help but keep a close eye on her. She might take off running again.

I'm starving and luckily, we have finished in time for dinner. The cafeteria is crowded.

As we wait for our food, I notice Megan doesn't stand still. She keeps hopping up and down. From excitement or nervousness, I don't know.

I don't like how crowded it is so I insist we head back out with our food and show Megan her room. Rian agrees but Megan has other plans. She actually wants to socialize with these strangers.

She doesn't get the chance. Rian and I slip out of the room, forcing her to follow us. There might be no one willing to take her back to her room after dinner.

"So," she breaks the silence that has been hanging in the air as we walk to the bedroom corridors. "Where is this room? Am I going to share with anyone else?"

"If you have a sibling, then you could," I tell her, chewing on a what appears to be a bread stick.

"Do I have siblings living here?" she asks hopefully. I shrug and her hope shatters.

Earlier, she had asked if her sisters were here, so she must have siblings. I just don't know if they're alive or not.

She's silent the rest of the way until Rian asks her, "What's your last name?"

"Alman."

"And how old are you?"

"F-fourteen." She sniffles and I'm afraid she's going to start crying again.

Rian doesn't ask her how to spell her last name so I'm guessing he's just going to try to sound it out. I hope it doesn't take us too long to find her name on the doors.

Fortunately, it doesn't. Megan's door is closer to the beginning of the hallway. I stand back as Rian shows her how to open it. She remembers the tattoo on her hand again and opens her mouth to ask about it. Before she can go too far into her sentence, her room door slides open and reveals her room. She gasps, completely forgetting about her question. "Oh, cool! I've never had a room to myself before!" She's about to step inside, but stops herself at the last second. "May I come in?"

Not sure why she's asking for permission, I nod. With a large grin on her face, she sprints inside, practically diving face-down into her bed She giggles and invites us to come inside. Rian seems to hesitate, but I pull him inside.

Megan hops off the bed and explores the small closet. Her face brightens up as she sees a few white t-shirts hanging inside. "Why is everything white?" she suddenly asks.

I have to laugh. "That's what I'm wondering."

"It's still a mystery, "Rian says. "None of us know."

Megan frowns and slowly sits down onto the soft carpet. "I still don't understand this. Why am I staying here forever?"

I scoot down to her and say as gently as I can, "Look, kid. I'm new here too. I've been here for about three days."

Megan stares at me. "You have? How about that guy?" She points to Rian.

I answer with, "Rian's been here for two years."

"Rian? That's his name? What's yours?"

"Vivian."

"I'm...Megan. But you already know that."

I nod and look around the room, wondering if there's anything important I need to show her. I spot the silver cube we use as a phone and bring it over to her.

"What is that?" she asks, not letting me explain first.

"This," I begin, "this is a phone. It helps you contact other people's rooms. I'll give you Rian's and my number if you want." I turn to Rian and ask, "What's my room phone number?"

He tells me.

I continue explaining to Megan. "Anyway, you pull this panel out. You'll see a keypad. It's just like a regular phone..."

While I continue explaining things, I'm surprised that I even managed to figure them out on my own. We eat the rest of our dinner in her room while I explain. Rian just stands by, sometimes cutting in to add a few words.

But it's strange. I've only been here for three days, yet here I am, telling Megan about this place.

Megan gets comfortable enough to want to sleep. I'm glad my lecture has bored her. I want to leave already.

Rian flicks her light off as I step out into the corridor. He follows me, looking like he's about to collapse onto the floor.

"You're tired?" I ask him. I'm not. My eyes aren't getting heavy so I'm not going to go to sleep just yet. I want to go see if Welds is still awake. He might help me find a job.

It's late but I want to do something before I go to sleep. Just like the other two nights, I doubt I would be able to fall asleep.

Rian rubs one of his eyes. "What do you expect, Vivian? It's late."

The hallway is completely empty except for a couple of people here and there.

"Would Welds or Janelle be asleep at this time?" I ask Rian.

He scratches his head. "Why would you need either of them?"

"I'm looking for a job."

Rian doesn't bother reacting to what I say. He just starts shuffling down the hallway toward where his room should probably be. I walk in the same direction he's walking but my goal is to find Welds or Janelle.

"So are they asleep?" I ask Rian.

I barely understand him as he mutters, "Welds stays up really late. I don't know about Janelle though. Are you sure you'll be able to find your way there?"

"Yeah. How hard can it be? I just have to keep a lookout for the right door."

Rian lets out a tired chuckle. "You could practice using those glasses."

I remember I'm still carrying them so I pull them out of my pocket. "What if I get lost?"

Rian reaches his door and scans his hand against it. It slides open. Before entering, he tells me, "You could always sleep out in the hallway."

The door slides closed and I'm left staring at it. A kid walks by me and gives me a look. I stare back at him as he passes. He enters through a couple of doors down from Rian's.

Taking a deep breath, I break off into a run through the corridor. Off to find Welds.

Chapter twelve

V I V I A N

The lights in the white hallway have dimmed to a dull glow. My hands slip the glasses I'm holding onto my face and I switch them on the same way I've seen Rian do.

So they're going to show me a map of this building and I'm somehow supposed to find a way around? The last time I had put them on, the map the glasses had given me looked too confusing to follow. I'll have to figure out how to use these. If I'm going to live here, I might as well learn the new technology, right?

Once again, the vision in my left eye goes dark and I wait for the screen to light up. When it does, I cringe involuntarily as the bright light blinds my eye for a second. Either I'm imagining it or it's real, but I think I'm getting a headache already.

Okay. Let's figure this out.

It's surprisingly easy to navigate through the screen in the glasses. I don't know how it does it but it acts like my eye is a computer mouse. I can scroll through the map just by thinking about it and moving my eye around.

Fascinating.

A fat red dot marks my location on the electronic map on the glasses. I notice other dots but they're not as emphasized. Some move around but most of them stay still, surrounded by squares I assume are bedrooms.

So everyone did receive trackers.

They had to in order to be marked on these maps.

But how do I find a specific person? Like Welds or Janelle?

Maybe....

I stare at the dot marking my location on the map and wait for something to pop up. Possibly my name or a picture. Instead of getting any of those, a search bar appears.

At least I think it's a search bar.

"Uh," I say aloud. Is it expecting me to type something in? Not knowing how to pull a keyboard up, I just say the name of the person I'm looking for. "Welds."

To my surprise, the bar disappears and shows me the map of the facility again. A few of the red dots have turned green. These must be the Welds.

But who is the real Welds I'm looking for? I try staring at the screen again, wanting the same search bar to pop up. Nothing happens.

I let out a frustrated grunt and start walking, having no destination in mind.

Most of the green dots that mark people named Welds are located somewhere behind me, presumably somewhere in their rooms, sleeping.

Taking one more look at the map on the lens, I pull the glasses off and I receive another dance from the white spots. I shut my eyes and rub my left eye, trying to get the blobs out of my vision.

I massage my temples and continue walking, trying to figure out an alternative way to get to Welds. Maybe I can ask someone?

There are many doors around me. I could just knock on one and ask for help. But there is a chance they might not know who Welds is...

I slide forward on the tile with my socks. The only pair of shoes I have are the flats. They were given to me by Addison on the day of Mr. Welds' dinner. I left them in my room but I'm not planning on wearing them anytime soon. I'm fine with the socks—

"Ms. Clancy."

The voice startles me from my thoughts and I look up to see Janelle speed-walking toward me. Even from here I can hear the clatter of her shoes. I freeze and watch her. She doesn't look angry, which is a relief.

"Ms. Clancy," she repeats once she reaches me. "Why aren't you asleep?"

"I'm—uh—not tired," I say.

"And you decide to run around in the middle of the night?"

"No. I'm looking for someone. How did you know I was here?"

Janelle scoffs. "Because this hallway is obviously not monitored 24/7. They told me to talk to you once they saw you here. I was watching along with them."

I look up at the ceiling, trying to search for cameras. I should have known. Welds had said there are cameras planted around the entire building to supervise everyone. So does anyone get any privacy these days?

"Could you tell me where Welds is?"

Janelle gives me a strange look. "Be specific. I don't quite know which Welds you are talking about."

I try remembering what Welds' first name is but instead, I say, "That one guy. Welds. Jack Welds' brother."

"Russell Welds?"

I nod. "Probably."

"He's speaking with Mr. Welds but he's available. Their conversation can be interrupted. Is whatever you want to tell them worth their time, though?"

It's worth my time but I don't know about theirs. I shrug.

"Very well, then," Janelle says, "You can briefly talk to them but after that, I'll give you a sleeping pill and you'll head straight to bed."

She sounds like a mother right now.

Nonetheless, I agree with her plan and she leads me to a door. How she knows which doors hold what, I'll never know. Just like a millions of doors around here, this door is plain white with no labels. She pulls it open and voices from the room flood my ears.

"...it's misplaced and there is no way to find it." Mr. Welds is speaking. As Janelle and I enter this new room, I see there are only two people inside (excluding me and Janelle).

There are two white couches placed across from each other in the middle of the room. Right between the couches, there is a small glass table, holding two white mugs of an unknown liquid.

On each of the four walls, there is a picture of a white blob of art inside a white frame. I admire it for a few seconds. That's all the room has. Two couches, a table, and picture frames. There's a lot of extra space left.

Mr. Welds is seated on one of the couches. Across from him on the other one, sits his brother, the regular Welds. They look like they're having an amiable conversation.

Mr. Welds sees me with Janelle and stops the discussion he's having with his brother. A soft smile appears on his face and he asks me, "Ah, Ms. Clancy. What are you doing up so late?"

Janelle, who joins my side after closing the door, clasps her hands behind her back and gives Mr. Welds a respectful nod.

I shoot right into a short explanation. "I couldn't sleep and I had a few things on my mind so I figured I might finish them."

Mr. Welds chuckles. "You're planning on staying up the whole night trying to complete your to-do list?"

I fiddle with my thumbs and answer, "I guess so." It sounds more like a question.

"So what did you come here for?" Mr. Welds asks. His brother, Welds, has been silent so far.

I get to the point. "Are there any jobs available?"

Welds takes a sip from the mug on the table while Mr. Welds replies with, "There are. We have already selected one for you. But of course we were waiting until you settled in before we actually assigned it to you. Since you're so eager to start, I'll tell Mr. Callum to take you there tomorrow. Will that be all right?"

"What will I be doing?"

Mr. Welds says, "Transferring and organizing boxes. Is that all right with you?"

Just to be sure, I say, "I'll be moving around, right?"

Mr. Welds nods, then shrug.

I don't know what that's supposed to mean, but I nod back. "Alright. Thanks, I guess."

Mr. Welds chuckles again and picks up his mug. Before taking a swig, he asks me, "Would you like some sleep medicine?"

I wave his offer away and Janelle escorts me out the door. Mr. Welds and Welds continue their discussion as Janelle shuts the door behind us.

Chapter thirteen

V I V I A N

The next morning, Rian leaves me at the place I'm supposed to be working at. He tells me he has to show Megan around, then he walks off.

It turns out Verity, the girl who called my hair "19th century," works at the same job I've been assigned. I head over to her just because she's the only person here that I'm familiar with.

The room I work in is large and bright. The vast number of people in here makes this room uncomfortably warm. And I'm wearing a sweatshirt.

Where's the air conditioning?

Mr. Welds told me I'll be moving boxes. But what's inside this room aren't boxes. They are bags wrapped in black plastic. And on most of these bags, there seem to be labels plastered on. Many of them are marked with names so I wonder what could possibly be inside.

"So what's in these bags?" I had asked Verity the second I entered this room.

She replied with, "The belongings from people's past lives. Apparently, before we were all frozen, many of us brought our stuff down here and labeled them with our names in case we survived."

I wonder if I did anything like this.

"Have you ever found your bag?" I ask now, flipping one of the plastic bags over in my hands. I'm searching for the label. Maybe my bag was already sorted.

"Not yet. I'm hoping to." Hers might have been found by someone else as well.

"How long have you worked here?" I ask, tossing aside the bag I've been looking at. I inspect another one, still attempting to look for my name.

"I've been working here for as long as I've been living here. Two months. How about you? How long have you lived here?"

I scoff. "Four days." We're expected to be sorting the items in the bags, disposing of the rotten food and keeping the good items. I want to look for my bag first. It disgusts me that someone would actually try to pack food to keep for all these years.

Verity notices I keep picking up and tossing different bags every five seconds. I don't look through any of them.

"What exactly are you trying to accomplish here?" she asks.

She's already halfway done searching through a bag and I'm sitting here, trying to look for one marked with my name.

Maybe I didn't pack anything. Janelle said I had been murdered so why would I have a reason to pack anything from my past life if I didn't know I was going to die so soon?

"Look," Verity continues, "You were given a job so you might as well do it. I mean, they take care of you here. So why not help them?"

She has a good point. I did ask for a job and I was given one.

I sigh and get to work, pulling open the next bag without checking its label. Almost immediately, a gut twisting odor escapes the bag.

Verity notices me recoiling and laughs. "Hold your breath," she warns me a little too late.

I cough and plug my nose as I dip my head toward the bag. Inside it are some items I've seen before along with some I have no clue about.

Reluctantly, I reach in and pull out a notebook. If feels fragile but doesn't fall apart in my hands.

Verity gets interested so she scoots over to me as I gingerly start flipping the pages. There are words written here. Some sort of diary.

"This is like the hundredth notebook I've seen. They actually use paper from these to make their own paper."

I close the notebook and set it aside. "I haven't seen any paper. All they use are tablets." The odd cloth tablet too.

Verity shrugs and goes back to the bag in her hands. I continue searching through the one I'm holding, interested to see what else this bag holds.

The next few items I pull out are a box of pencils, a candy wrapper (but I don't see any candy), a photo of a family (which I stared at for a while), and many more objects. Verity and I continue to search through bags in silence. We exchange a few words here and there.

"Do they give these things back to the owners?" I ask.

"Only to those who want it back."

"Why don't they give it to us the day we wake up?" By wake up, I mean come back to life. She seems to understand what I mean.

"They look through it first and keep what they think is important to them. Then they give the leftovers to their rightful owners."

"How would they get the important objects if we're looking through them right now. It's not like we know what they think is important. And that's basically stealing."

"We clean them. After that, they look through the cleaned bags."

"We don't actually clean—"

"We pull food and junk out. I count that as cleaning."

"What if someone were to take something out of this bag and keep it for themselves?"

Verity points up to the ceiling. "You're being monitored. But stuff like that happens."

It goes quiet once again.

After a few minutes has passed, I ask her about the other name on her bedroom door. I remember seeing the names Verity and Fawn the day Rian brought me there.

She answers as if she were answering a math question. "She's my little sister."

"How old?"

She continues to search through her bag without looking at me. "She's twelve. I have two sisters. We're just waiting for the last one."

"Really? She's here?"

Verity nods. "She's not alive yet. A couple of weeks ago they told me they're planning on bringing her back soon."

"How old is she supposed to be?"

"Fourteen."

"So you're the oldest?" I ask.

"Yep. Eighteen."

"Are your parents here?"

Verity's head shakes. "My parents were too old to be accepted here. That was the rule. If you were 35 or younger, you would have been preserved. If you were older, you were rejected. It was the way it was, I guess. How about your parents?"

I shrug. "I don't know. I was told I had been murdered. Mr. Welds said my parents died of natural causes."

Verity grimaces. "Ooh. Tough luck. Getting murdered? So you didn't have an illness?"

I shake my head but honestly, I don't know if I did or not.

Verity says, "I did." After she utters those two words, we go silent. She stops searching through the bag and I stop searching mine. She finally continues, "I used to have a strange virus."

She doesn't say anything else until I ask, "How do you know this?"

"They told me." By they, I'm assuming Mr. Welds, Welds, or Janelle. Possibly Rob. Or one of the scientists, of course.

I move to the next bag after finishing this one. To my relief, I don't find any rotten food inside. The unpleasant smell must be here only because these objects are so old.

"Well...they didn't tell me," I say, anger surfacing. "Mr. Welds had refused to tell me what had happened to me and why I'm here. They told Verity. Why not me?

"I lived here longer than you have."

"Actually, Mr. Welds refused to tell me when I had asked him."

Verity moves on to the next bag and starts coughing in disgust as she opens it. Her eyes search the inside of the bag and she pulls a can out.

"Non-perishable food items," she says with a grin on her face. She sets the can down and comments on what I said. "Your brother told me he was informed of his past."

The bag nearly slips through my fingers. "What?"

They told Piers about his past life? I don't care if Verity and Piers lived here longer than me, I want to know what happened to me. Why am I here? How did I die?

"They told your brother," she repeats. "He said he used to be some kind of medic in training. There was this war going on and they needed doctors."

"They said that?"

"Yeah."

"Is Piers one of your friends?" It's a random question, but I'm curious. I remember she was sitting in the same area Piers and I sat back in the cafeteria when I first met Verity.

She shrugs. "I guess you could call me one of his many friends. He helps take care of Fawn sometimes."

"Isn't he busy being a scientist?"

Verity shrugs again. "Yeah, I guess. He said he'll help with Megan once they bring her back." She watches my confused face for a second. Then clarifies, "Megan's the other sister we're waiting for."

I freeze, just for a second. "Megan?" I say aloud, the disbelief clear in my voice.

Verity just shrugs and says casually, "You act like you know her."

"Megan?" I repeat, louder this time. Verity nods. My words are flowing out quicker now. "Red hair? Fourteen years old?" While Verity keeps nodding, I bring my hand up to my head, indicating my height. "About my height?" Obviously I'm taller than Megan but she's not too far behind. I wouldn't say I'm tall either. My stature is shorter than most.

Verity's head bobs up and down a few more times before she actually starts talking. "Yes! How did you know?" Her eyes brighten and her expression is filled with hope. "Did you see her?"

Very slowly, I nod my head and Verity practically yells, "She's alive?"

A few heads and eyes turn our way.

Megan had said she had sisters. So these must be hers. Fawn and Verity.

"Yes. Rian and I watched her wake up yesterday," I say, "I think she's with him right now. He's giving her a tour."

Her voice turns cold. "Yesterday? And they never told me?"

Now she understands how I feel. They didn't tell me anything either. I say nothing and Verity jumps up to her feet.

"I need to see her," she says.

She pulls me to my feet and I don't know why she wants me to come along with her. I won't be a major help anyway. These buildings and its many rooms are still new to me so I wouldn't be able to show her where Megan is. "W-why would—"

She cuts me off before I can continue. "You need to come with me."

I suddenly feel like the job is more important than seeing Megan again. She's not my sister. I don't need to see her.

Verity, who has been trying to drag me to the door, lets her arm fall to her side. She sighs and her voice is hesitant as she says, "Look." A pause. Then, "Look, I'm sorry for calling your hair 19th century, I really am."

So she thinks I don't want to come with her because of what she had said to me a couple of days ago? I shake my head and laugh.

"No," I say, "you're mistaken. That's not the reason I don't want to go—"

She throws her hands up in exasperation. "Then help me."

She needs my help to get to her sister. Can't she find her own way around? She's been living here more than I have so she must have an idea how to get around this place.

I take a deep breath and say, "Why do you need my help?"

She starts talking before I'm done with my question. "I don't want to go alone, okay? I'm not exactly fond of everyone here. Besides, you said she's with that Rian guy." Her arms flap against her thighs and her feet start rubbing against the floor. She looks down at the ground. "I don't really like him too much."

I stare at her. "You hate Rian?"

She shrugs. "I don't hate him but I don't like him. It's somewhere in between."

"Does he scare you?"

She cringes. "No. It's just...he gave me a tour my first day here and...he was so boring."

I raise both my eyebrows. I'm not too talented to raise just one. "You don't like him because he's boring?"

She points a finger at me. "I've seen you talking to him. He might like you better than he does me so—"

I snort and she stops talking. "You're being paranoid," I say. "He will not do anything to you. But okay, I'll come with you." But silently, I scoff to myself. She hates Rian because he's boring?

Verity looks relieved.

We abandon our job and I wonder if it's possible to get in trouble by doing so. But Verity is so sure that her reason in doing so is excusable. She wants to see Megan right away, and she has already waited forever.

She moves fast as we head down the hallway. I fall behind her a few feet, not on purpose.

The large hallway is almost empty. Everybody seems to be either working or eating in the cafeteria.

I can tell Verity is eager to see Megan. When I'd met Piers here for the first time, I had yelled at him. I wonder how Megan's and Verity's reunion will look like.

But there's one problem. I don't know where Verity is going. It seems like she knows what she's doing, so I don't question her. I just question the reason why she wanted to take me with her. There really is no good reason.

We reach a room and I find myself standing in front of a desk. Welds sits behind it and Verity talks to him a little. He seems to be giving her directions but I can't be sure. Their voices are murmurs.

Before Verity and I take off again, Welds asks me, "Ms. Clancy. How's your job so far?"

"It's fine," I reply.

We leave.

Verity starts talking as I trail behind her in the hallway. "Welds told me my sister and Rian are checking out designs and inventions and stuff. I think I know where that is. I've visited that place so many times I've lost count."

I wish I could do that, visit places many times. That way I would be able to remember where a specific room is. But I can't, because I know nothing of this place.

And Rian is showing Megan the inventions? That's not fair. I got a psycho like Rob to show me.

I spot Janelle walking not too far away from us. She's heading in our direction. As Verity and I close the distance between her, I see Janelle's walking with something brown and furry in front of her. Something small. And it seems to be a living creature.

Verity notices it too and squints her eyes. "Is that a—"

"Dog?" I finish for her.

It is. It's scurrying in front of Janelle and barely passing her. If she had just increased her speed, the leash around the dog's neck would've tightened and she would have been dragging it across the floor.

"Dog?" Verity echoes. Her eyes widen. "Oh my gosh, it's a puppy! I haven't seen those in forever!"

She forgets her sister. Her kid side takes over and she's running toward the dog in excitement, startling a calm Janelle. Janelle stops walking and I hear Verity ask in a loud voice, "Where did you get her?"

Janelle clears her throat as I reach them and says, "Him. We've had him for a month now. Dogs need their exercise, you know."

"Oh." Verity kneels down and starts petting the dog's furry head without getting Janelle's permission first. Janelle looks displeased and tries to tug the dog away from Verity. She's getting a little too possessive over the animal, but Verity doesn't seem to notice. She continues stroking the dog's back.

Janelle clears her throat again. "Could you please stop touching it?" She waves her hands at Verity, expecting her to move away. "The dog needs his space."

Verity immediately backs down. "Sorry. It's just...I haven't seen a dog in forever." She looks up at Janelle. "What other animals do you have?"

I imagine hundreds of animals isolated in containers, frozen in place and waiting to be thawed. Just the thought makes me shiver inwardly.

"I'm not too comfortable with giving that type of information out to you," Janelle says. "Our experiments aren't for you to be part of." Just briefly, I catch her eyes darting to me before she adds in a murmur. "Unless you're some people."

And what is that supposed to mean?

I quickly forget about it after Verity jumps to her feet and apologizes for touching the dog. Janelle completely ignores her and continues walking like nothing ever happened. The small dog struggles to run by her side.

Verity has a huge smile on her face as we watch Janelle and the dog leave. "Now that's just adorable. I'm gonna have to ask Welds where they keep all of the animals. I need one."

"No you don't," I mutter. She doesn't hear me and asks for a repeat.

I say nothing.

We continue down the hallway in silence and I'm assuming Verity is leading me to the room where her sister, Megan, is. Verity leads the way and I try to memorize where everything is. It's hard because all of the doors look the same. There are no turns in this large hallway. All we do is go forward. The only turn I've seen so far is the one that leads into the corridor with the bedrooms.

We stop at a door and Verity's hand hovers over the doorknob for a few seconds before she pulls the door open.

We enter a familiar room. There are only two people inside. Rian and Megan. Megan is in the middle of putting sunglasses over her eyes.

Verity and Megan both freeze when they see each other. The glasses slip from Megan's hands and she scrambles to catch them before they hit the floor. Rian casts me a look and I shrug.

Megan is the first one to speak but Verity it the first one to move. She throws her arms around her little sister.

Megan starts muttering. "You're alive? How a-and w-when?"

Verity doesn't pull away from Megan yet.

"Two months," she tells her. "They never told me you're alive." When they pull away, I see Megan has started crying. When she raises her right hand to wipe her eyes, Verity lets out a small gasp. She snatches Megan's wrist and stares at the tattoo around her fingers.

Stuttering, Verity asks, "W-w-what is th-this?" Her head snaps to me and she points a sharp finger in my direction. "Show me your right hand."

I come over to her and lift my right hand. She snatches it, her nails digging into my skin. Her eyes scan over my tattoo.

Her first "no" is quiet. When she repeats it, her teeth are gritted. She drops my hand, leaving me with my eyebrows furrowed.

"Rian," she says firmly. "Show me your hand."

Reluctantly, Rian steps forward and lifts his hand up, showing his tattoo.

Verity purses her lips together, her head shaking. Her eyes lift to Megan, who's is staring back at her sister, unblinking.

"What's wrong?" Megan asks her sister. She lifts her tattooed hand. "What does this mean?"

I find myself nodding. "Yes, Verity. What does the tattoo mean?" I was curious before and I'm curious now.

Verity doesn't stop shaking her head. "I don't know. But at least three people carrying it must symbolize something."

"There are more of us," Rian says, indicating his own tattooed hand. "Four more."

"Four more?" Verity looks as if she's about to faint. Her hand goes to her face.

"That I know of," Rian adds.

Verity's eyes widen and she repeats, "That you know of?" She wraps her hands around her own neck and pretends to strangle herself. "What?"

"Verity." Megan snaps her fingers in front of her sister's face. "Verity. It's fine. I'm fine. They have done nothing to me."

Verity grabs Megan's wrist again. "Then what does this mark mean?" she asks her. "Huh?"

Megan shakes her head and yanks her wrist out of Verity's grip. "I don't know." She gestures to Rian and me. "They wouldn't tell me."

I point to myself just as Rian is about to step up. "We," I say, "don't know anything about it. We would've told you already."

Rian told me he doesn't know what the tattoos stand for either. I don't know if I should believe him or not. He's part of these "bringing people back from the dead" projects. They could have told him to keep this confidential.

"I haven't seen anyone with these marks," Verity spits, pointing to Megan's tattoo. "I don't know how new this is but—"

Rian cuts in with, "The mark has been around for three years. One of our group members has been around for three years and he's the first person who got this mark. That I know of."

Verity might not know what Rian means by "group." I would tell her it's the tattooed people, but she doesn't seem like she's in the mood to listen to me.

Verity scoffs. "I don't need your that I know of garbage." She wraps her arms around herself. "I just want to get out of here."

Megan says, "I was told we're never getting out. The air is—"

Verity waves a hand to stop her. "I know, I know, I know." She turns to the empty wall behind Megan.

"Is it boring here?" Megan asks, directing the question to me.

I shrug, not able to answer it. I haven't been here that long, but yeah, I guess I can admit that it can get a little dull here sometimes.

Rian answers for me. "If you wake up every morning grateful to be alive, you'll be fine here. You just never get to go outside, that's all."

Is that what he lives by?

"Can you drive here?" Megan asks.

"It's possible, yes," Rian's laughs. "But there's no such thing as earning your drivers license and following road rules. Here, you can't use a vehicle unless you're part of a certain business."

"Can you fly here?" Megan asks, eyes bright.

Rian shrugs. "Not sure yet. But they might be working on something."

Verity crosses her arms. "I haven't seen a vehicle yet. Neither have I seen animals. Until today, of course."

Nobody is listening to her. Even Megan is absorbed in what Rian has to say to us. She just continues asking questions, and I'm not sure if she's ignoring her sister on purpose.

"How old do you need to be to drive?"

"Older than ten, that's for sure."

"How old to get a job?"

Rian shrugs. "Older than seven."

Megan continues bombarding Rian with the questions, which tells me she still wants to continue with her tour. I guess meeting her sister isn't interesting enough.

Annoyed, Verity pulls me out of the room and starts muttering under her breath. I can hear some of her words but they're not clear enough for me to understand what she is talking about.

"So that's it?" I ask her. "You wanted to meet your sister so bad but now you just leave because you're angry?"

Verity breathes out and itches her nose. "I just need some time to cool off. She's obviously not happy enough to see me healthy and alive."

"You're the one who freaked out. She's glad to see you," I say.

She just shakes her head. "I just don't want my sister to be their experiment."

Aren't we all experiments?

Verity doesn't take us back to our job. Instead, she heads over to a room that looks a lot like a lounge.

She plops down onto one of the white couches, droops her arm over the couch's arm, and sighs.

"Sit down," she tells me, kicking her feet in the direction of another white couch in the room. "Relax."

I don't sit down. That's because I believe I have better things to do other than sit around and do nothing. I mean, I'm finally useful in some way.

"Verity?" I say.

"Yeah?" She slips her shoes off and swings her legs onto the couch.

"You do realize we have a job to finish?"

Back in the room with the bags, she had told me to do my job instead of tossing the bags around. I'm telling her the same thing now.

Verity spreads herself across the couch and folds her hands over her stomach. "I've been doing my job for two months."

"Since when did you get so lazy?"

"Since I first woke up. Two months ago."

"Won't they punish you for skipping work?"

Verity closes her eyes and shrugs. "No. They're not that strict. Besides, I don't get paid."

"That's all you want to work for? Money?"

She looks at me. "Isn't that the purpose of work? Wouldn't you?"

Yes. But also to earn people's trust.

She closes her eyes again when she sees I won't answer. "You're welcome to go back there." Her voice turns sarcastic. "I'm sure they will notice you're missing in a room filled with a hundred people." She smirks. "Because you're that special."

I walk out of the room and shut the door behind me a little too hard. I'm not angry. I just wasn't expecting the door to close that easily.

Somewhere in the distance (because this large hallway does nothing but go straight), I spot two familiar figures. Rian and Megan. Megan seems to be skipping, looking a little too happy as they near me. She waves at me.

I don't wave back.

Rian notices Verity's not with me. Once they both reach me, he asks, "What happened to the other girl? Did she leave you?"

"Did she die?" I hear Megan mutter under her breath.

I answer Rian's question and ignore Megan. "No. I left her alone. She wanted to relax."

"What's her name?" Rian asks. "I think I remember her from somewhere."

"Verity," Megan and I say in unison. We exchange glances and she smiles.

I don't.

Turning back to Rian, I say, "I have a job, so I might as well finish it."

In the end though, I decide to stick with the tour Rian is giving Megan. It takes longer to finish it, but only because Megan asks too many questions.

At least I learn a few things. Like where Janelle's office is located.

I feel proud of myself. I'm slowly learning how to find each room.

We find ourselves spending the day with Megan. She doesn't seem to care about her sister at all. She seems to have forgotten about the tattoos because she doesn't mention them again. She tells us she's been classified with the number 42-21, which reminds me of my classification: 42-2. I guess she's the next revived human after me.

We eat lunch outside the cafeteria while we talk. Rian seems to be having fun because he's smiling all the time. And I have completely lost interest in my job. Megan actually gets comfortable enough to start asking us personal questions like:

"What year were you born in?"

"2024," I answer. Rian says his year is 2023, which made him one year older than me in the past, but when I think about it, he's three years older than me (only because he has been alive for two extra years while I lay frozen in a container). But when I try to go in depth with this, I just confuse myself, so I stop.

"When's your birthday?" Megan asks.

"I—uh..." I trail off, completely clueless to the answer. I know the year I was born in but I have no clue what month or day it was. I'm not even sure if they have months anymore.

Does Megan even know she's in the future?

Rian answers with, "I think mine is somewhere in February."

I don't answer and they don't press me.

"You think? Don't you remember?" Megan asks. "Mine's in June 15th, 2017," she adds proudly.

"Did someone tell you?" I ask.

Megan shakes her head. "How could anyone forget their own birthday? What month is it, anyway?"

That's what I'm wondering.

Rian says, "October, I think. You're gonna have to ask Welds if you're curious. He keeps track of the days."

I decide to take a risk asking Megan, "You do know what year it is, don't you?" I don't know the exact year but I know we're somewhere past the year I died. I think.

Megan nods and says casually, "Dr. Janelle told me we're in year 2075." She gives me an innocent smile and doesn't seem bothered by this at all.

My mouth nearly drops open. "2075?" But that's—

"I was surprised at first too," Megan says, still smiling. "Then I just accepted it."

I look away from her. Year 2075? Does that mean I'm really old?

Rian tells us we are going to meet Jack Welds again for dinner. I groan with annoyance but Megan seems excited. It doesn't take me long to get myself ready, but once I do, Addison—the girl who's part of the dinner group—helps me get Megan ready. Addison is the one who provides a dress for Megan, while I stand there and throw out a couple of comments. Not sure if they help Megan.

The dinner with Mr. Welds is as dull as last time. When Megan meets Mr. Welds, she greets him by shaking his hand and saying hello.

Fox—the guy who's also part of the tattoo group—behaves the same way he did last time.

At the dinner meeting, I know Megan notices everyone has the same tattoos, but she keeps quiet and doesn't ask about them. Either Rian told her not to, or she feels no need to ask. No one would answer her question anyway.

By the time the dinner ends, I have trouble keeping my eyes open. The walk to my room is long, and I feel myself swaying with every step.

I don't know if Rian and the others are in front or behind me. I'm too tired to look around.

In the large hallway, the lights have dimmed and it's empty again. Without knowing how, I find myself in my bedroom, kicking off my shoes. The time reads 10:04 PM. I think I'll be able to fall asleep this time.

I change out of my black dress and throw on jeans and a tank top. Sleep comes quickly and I find myself lost in a dream.

The dreams ends as soon as I hear a creak. At first, I think I'm aboveground again and the glass is shattering on me.

But when my eyes fly open, I'm lying on my side, tangled up in the blanket. The digital clock is in front of me. Its numbers glow green in my face and I cringe, trying to read the time.

2:24 AM.

It's still late.

Stupid noise.

I flip over on my back and run my hands through my face.

The silhouetted figure catches my eye.

The wheelchair is still in my room, but now it's been moved to the middle. How did it get there?

Someone is in the seat, drumming their fingers on the wheelchair's arm. Glowing eyes watch me.

I nearly shriek as I shoot out of the bed, noticing I'm wearing jeans and only a tank top.

A low laugh escapes from the figure in the wheelchair. When my eyes adjust to the dark, I finally see who it is.

My head spins.

"Hey there," Rob says, a cruel smile appearing on his face.

Chapter fourteen

V I V I A N

Rob's fingers continue to drum on the wheelchair's arm as he watches me.

I want to run; I just don't know which way to go.

"How did you get here?" I squeak out, backing away from him. I want as much distance between us as possible.

The exit door is behind him so if I want to run for it, I can't. He could jump out at me.

Rob remains seated. "You're not the only one with access to your room," he says.

My heart feels like it's about to break out of my chest.

"What do you want?" My voice trembles. "I didn't do anything to you."

Rob shrugs and my eyes dart around the room, looking for a light switch. Maybe the cameras are watching.

"You caused misery to someone else," he says. "I don't want to live in the same building as my father's murderer."

"I didn't kill anyone," I say through gritted teeth. "You're sick. I don't understand why you'd think I'd do anything like that. I've only been here for four days. Why would I kill anyone?"

Rob's fingers stop drumming the wheelchair's arm for a second. He chuckles, then his fingers continue dancing. "No, Vivian, no. You killed someone thirty years ago."

There is silence for a moment as I ponder over this.

Then, "Thirty years ago?" I hiss angrily, pointing to myself. "You care that I killed someone thirty years ago?"

Rob looks like he's about to jump out of the wheelchair.

I instantly fear for my life.

"My father." His voices raises. "You murdered my father."

I want to throw a pillow at Rob's face but I know it won't do much damage. It'll just anger him even more.

"For the last time," I say, emphasizing each word, "I did not kill anyone."

His anger suddenly vanishes and a sinister smile replaces it. "Have you wondered why you've forgotten everything about your past?"

I keep my mouth shut. Rob continues. "You don't know who you used to be. You don't remember how you died. You don't remember your childhood. You don't remember your friends. You don't—"

"I get it," I cut in harshly.

"Maybe because they don't want you to know who you were. Maybe they want you to—"

"Let go of the past and start over," I finish for him, quoting Mr. Welds.

"Precisely."

I know it's not a very good idea to ask him this. He might not answer, but I say it anyway. "Then who was I?"

Rob pulls a thin object out of his sleeve and I catch a glimpse of a glimmer of a blade. My heart stops.

A knife. He's brought a knife.

Casually, he starts flipping it over in his hands. "It's tempting to tell you, Vivian, it really is. But...I can't. I was told to keep it quiet. That if—"

"Y-you have no proof." My voice quivers and I hate it.

In the dark, I see a look of surprise cross Rob's expression. "Proof of what?" he asks.

I swallow. "That I—that I killed your father. That's not possible."

My head is shaking from side to side and I can't stop it. It matches the quick beating of my heart.

I skim the dark room, looking for something to use against Rob.

Weapon, weapon, weapon.

My shoes are by the door, behind Rob. I can't reach those. There are no lamps, but there is a nightstand. I doubt I have the strength to throw it at Rob, though. There's the cube-shaped phone. I could use that...

My hand reaches for it and Rob hops to his feet. "And what exactly are you doing?" he asks.

I suck in a breath and my hand freezes, hovering over the object. "What are you doing?" I ask him.

Rob shrugs. "Standing."

"And so am I."

"I'm not too comfortable with you reaching for that phone over there." He uses the knife to gesture to the phone my hand is hovering over.

"I'm not too comfortable with you holding that knife," I snap back at him, gesturing to the knife in his hand.

He shrugs and says in a demanding voice, "Back away from the phone."

I disobey.

I snatch the phone from the nightstand and fling it at Rob. He's expecting it so he leans out of the way as soon as I throw it. The cube misses him and crashes into the wall behind him, leaving a dent.

Dang it.

He has a knife. Why not just throw it at me? What's he waiting for?

He takes a small step toward me and I take a small step back. There's no more room for me to back up so I run into the nightstand. He doesn't move again.

And I wasted my only weapon.

"W-what do you want?" I ask, sidling closer to the kitchen.

I could grab a knife from there. I could run at him. I could poke his eyes out. I could—

"To avenge my father's death," he says. Those words nearly bring my beating heart to a complete stop as I'm reminded why he's here in the first place.

"I...I didn't kill him." I'm trembling so hard I don't think I'll be able to hold myself up any longer. I never killed anyone.

He takes another step forward and all I'm doing is focusing on the knife grasped in his hand.

"Evidence says otherwise," he says.

"What evidence?" I inch to the side again.

Rob sees me but he doesn't try to stop me. He raises his eyebrows instead and counts off on his fingers as he says, "Documents, possible witnesses, cameras, audi—"

Hold on. "Cameras?"

"Yes. So once you see it with your own eyes, you're bound to believe it," Rob says.

I shake my head. They'd kept thirty-year-old footage of a murder? I'm crazy to be believing the words of this maniac. I didn't actually kill anyone. I know I didn't.

"But don't worry," Rob continues. "After you assassinated my father, they got rid of you. But I want you out of this world forever."

Assassinated. That's the only word that stays in my head after Rob finishes his sentence.

"So," Rob lets out a breath, sounding as if he's concluding a speech. "I have the power to take your life away."

"You have no authority." I attempt to spit at his face but it doesn't go far. He just laughs and takes another step toward me.

"I do." A pause. "I created your heart."

Whether it's true or not, I suddenly feel like I'm suffocating...because I have a heart that was formed with Rob's hands.

No, he's lying. He's lied to me before, and he's lying now. How could he have created my heart? What is that supposed to even mean?

"Surprised?" Rob asks. "You could think of yourself as special, but only because you are one of the seven people who had their heart made for them. And I'll give you a hint. Your tattoo is involved." He points to my hand.

I take a quick glance at the tattoo on my right hand. Such an intricate design. But how is it involved?

It suddenly comes to me. I've only seen seven people with these tattoos. Rob just said seven people had man-made hearts. So these do mark us in some way. We had hearts made for us. How—?

"You're experiments." He lifts his knife into the air and takes another step forward. I move to the side again until I'm only a foot away from the kitchen.

There are no knives in sight. There's no time to do anything else.

I look at him, then back to the kitchen.

Rob peeks into the kitchen too and clicks his tongue.

If he's going to kill me, why not do it now?

He decides to stroll into the kitchen. To turn his back on me.

A mistake.

I'm instantly on him, wrapping my hands around his neck. He nearly drops the knife he's holding in surprise.

I cling to his back and squeeze his neck harder as he thrashes around, trying to pry me off of him. I slam a fist into the side of his head but he still remains standing.

"Let go of me!" he screams, running backward into the wall.

"You leave me alone!" I shriek into his ear.

He slams me into the wall so I'm forced to let go. As soon as I do, he takes a wheezing breath.

He starts swinging the knife at me and instantly, my life flashes before my eyes.

This is it.

I roll toward him with my eyes shut. In a second, I've collided with his legs and he falls to the floor. I'm up on my feet and my fist manages to meet his face three times before he kicks me off of him.

I stumble back and run for it. There's no blood. I got lucky.

I have no scratches on me.

Rob is still struggling behind me but I have enough adrenaline in my veins to sprint out the door and into the hallway. It's dark in here, but I don't stop.

My destination is Rian's room.

I glance back once to see if Rob is behind me.

He is not.

I'm out of breath by the time I reach Rian's door. Rob still has not showed himself, and I don't know what's he's doing.

I pound on Rian's door and wait, counting to fifteen.

It doesn't open, and I pound on it again.

Another fifteen seconds later, Rian stands in the open doorway, rubbing his eyes. His typical spiked-up hair is all over the place.

"Waz goin' on?" he mumbles, running a hand over his face.

My eyes scan the corridor one last time before I squeeze past Rian and step into his room without asking for permission first.

His room is dark too and I strain my eyes to see where I'm going.

"Vivian, what's going on? Why are you here?"

He flicks the light on, completely awake now. The room instantly turns bright and I'm blinded for a second. The door slides closed, but I know I'm not safe yet. If Rob has access to my room, he would surely have access to Rian's.

"It's—it's Rob," I breathe. "He tried to attack me. He's in my room, Rian."

"In your—? Hang on." Rian pauses and narrows his eyes. "You're telling me he barged into your room and—"

"I woke up in the middle of the night and he was there." I pause to catch a breath, then keep going, not able to stop. "He started saying all of these things about creating hearts and the tattoos and how he made the heart I have inside of me and how seven of us have—"

Rian puts a hand up, indicating for me to stop talking.

I disregard it. "—those tattoos and he said I killed his father when I don't even remember—"

"Vivian," I hear his voice say.

But I'm too focused on finishing what I have to say to listen to him. "—killing him and he said there were cameras and—"

My heart rate increases as I think of Rob bashing Rian's door down. I take a step back to increase the distance between me and the door just as soon as Rian takes a step toward me.

"Vivian," he says again. "Stop for a second."

I'm not able to stop. I've gotten this far so I might as well finish it. "—they recorded me assassinating his father and it's like I got paid for it and—"

Rian closes the distance between us and grabs my wrists. "Stop," he says firmly.

I finally shut my mouth and he lets go, taking a few steps back to let me have my own space.

"Sorry," I whisper.

"What happened to Rob?" he asks.

I take a breath and let my words out slowly. "I left him in my room and ran."

Rian nods. "You said he attacked you and he had a knife."

Rob's going to hurt me sooner or later. He has a knife with him. I doubt he wants to use it to cook dinner. "I attacked him first," I admit, grabbing my hair.

Rian waves my honest reply away and says, "He's not supposed to be in your room in the first place. And with a knife."

The people who let Rob do this are crazy. Or maybe he planned it all himself? Does Janelle know that Rob wants to kill me? Does Jack Welds know? Does the other Welds know?

I point to the door, feeling like a child who's afraid of the monsters under her bed.

"Someone should lock him up," my voice squeaks.

Rian lets out a laugh and I don't understand why he thinks this is funny. "Out of all people, you came to me as if I could solve anything."

"You were the closest one. I don't exactly know where Piers' room is. Besides...I'm hiding."

Rian frowns and sits down on the floor. I sit down on his bed.

"Sorry if I woke you," I say quietly.

Silence. Then, "What did you mean by Rob creating your heart? I've never heard of anything like that."

I shrug and hold up my tattooed hand. "I don't understand it either. Everyone marked with this has them. Rob said that."

"And you believe him?" Rian looks down at his own hand, then places two fingers on his wrist as if he is feeling his pulse.

I nod and clasp my hands together.

There's a light knock on the door and Rian's head shoots up in the direction of the sound. I only stare at the ground.

Rian stands up.

Thoughts start running through my head. It's Rob. How does he know I'm here? Is he using the glasses? It's not a good idea to open the door, but how long until he opens it himself?

"Don't open that," I hiss under my breath.

"I don't want to," Rian whispers back. He switches the light off and backs away until he's by my side.

The faint knocking continues. It's so quiet it almost scares me.

Then a familiar voice yells from the other side, "Open the damn door!"

It's Rob.

Chapter fifteen

V I V I A N

How did he find me? That is my first thought.

There are so many doors that I could have gone through, and he instantly decided to go to this one?

The knocking continues along with Rob's voice. "I don't think you'd want to see a blade through your door. Open up and we won't have any problems."

Rian only takes in a small breath.

There's a bash and I don't doubt Rob just attempted to kick the door. "Open this so we can talk," he calls.

Rian sighs, then pulls me into the kitchen. He starts rattling off a few things.

"Stay here, don't turn the light on, and don't speak. I'm going to go check on Rob and see what's going on with him. I don't want him standing outside my door the entire night."

He turns around and heads for the door, where the soft knocking has started again.

"No—" I whisper, trying to stop Rian. But he doesn't listen to me.

Knowing I won't be able to do anything, I back away farther into the kitchen and conceal myself in the shadows. After a few more seconds, I hear the door slide open.

"What do you need?" Rian sounds tired again and I'm sure he's doing that on purpose. Rob needs to think Rian had just woken up.

"Something has occurred." Rob's voice.

"And what would that be?" Rian sounds curious.

"It's about Vivian."

I laugh to myself. Then I instantly remember Rob wants to kill me. My smile vanishes.

"What about her?" Rian asks.

I crouch down and press myself against the wall as silently as possible. I'm not too sure if Rob has entered Rian's room yet. There's a chance he's still in the hallway.

Rob answers with, "I was doing my nightly patrol when I spotted her in the hallway. She threw something at me and ran off."

I'm too frozen with fear to realize that's not true.

Rian laughs. "What does that have to do with me? This isn't anything major. I see people throwing things at each other all the time."

"Uh," I hear Rob say. "I just need you to help me find her. She shouldn't be causing this much trouble."

Rian doesn't answer right away. It's silent for a few seconds.

I hold my breath and wait. Does Rian actually believe Rob?

Rian finally speaks up. "What did you want exactly?"

"Your glasses."

I press myself tighter against the wall as if that could hide me more.

"I don't have glasses," Rian says.

"Not for your eyes," Rob exclaims. "The map. Hand them over."

"For what?"

"Just trying to find a room, that's all," Rob says.

I hear Rian scoff. "And what happened to searching for Vivian?"

"Just forget about her." A pause. "I'm trying to look for someone else."

"Who?"

"Some—uh—guy. Today's...his birthday."

Rob's not making any sense at all.

I turn my head around, trying to look for a cupboard to hide in.

Too far.

Bash!

I freeze and clench my hands into fists.

"What exactly are you doing?" Rian exclaims.

"You tried to close the door on me!"

"It's two o'clock in the morning," Rian says. "Why don't you just come back later?"

"I'm not leaving," Rob yells suddenly. Then there's a sound of someone barging through the door. "I know she's in here."

Rian sounds clueless. "Who?"

"That girl. Vivian."

I scramble to the farthest corner in the kitchen, behind a table, and pull my knees to my chest. He won't come in here. Don't come in here—

Ah, who am I kidding? Of course he'll come in here. I breathe in as soundlessly as I can and wait. There's nothing else I can do. Rob still has his knife. I can't stop him from stabbing either Rian or me.

I hope Rian will be fine.

"I can assure you," I hear Rian say, "that Vivian is not here."

The light in the bedroom flicks on, but I don't move. He'll reach the kitchen soon.

"Don't lie to me, Callum," Rob snaps. "The map on my glasses marked her location."

So he did use the glasses to find me just like I tried using them to find Welds.

I'm trying not to panic as I hear footsteps. It's not clear to me if they're coming closer or they're just wandering around the other room.

"So you had your own glasses all along?" I hear Rian ask. I don't take my eyes off the kitchen doorway. Rob might step through it soon.

"Of course I did, Callum," Rob says.

I'm right. He will come in.

His figure sets foot into the kitchen and I freeze, hoping he won't see me. I'm partially concealed behind the table.

Please don't see me.

He spots me right away—

Rian swings an object at Rob's head, and Rob's body collapses onto the ground with a thud.

I remain frozen. He's not dead, but only unconscious.

"Th-that's it?" I ask in a whisper. "That's all it took for him to go down?"

"It surprises me too." Rian drops the object onto the kitchen counter. It's a tablet, looking like it's in tact despite the hard blow to Rob's head. "I thought his head was tougher than that."

I rise to my feet, legs shaking. "Are you okay?" I ask Rian.

He starts brushing his sweatshirt off even though there's nothing to brush off. "I'm fine," he says. He doesn't turn the kitchen light on but motions me out of the room instead.

I hop over Rob's limp form without looking at it. My stomach flips.

"What will we do with him?" I ask Rian as he picks Rob's knife off the floor. "Lock him up?" My voice sounds too hopeful.

Rian sets the knife down next to the tablet on the counter. "We'll need to report this, at least. I don't think you'd want to let this go." He mutters something about Rob going crazy. I silently agree with him.

When will Rob wake up again? That is if we didn't give him a concussion.

Rian kneels down to search Rob's body. What for, I don't know exactly. Once he stands back up, I see he has pulled out a pair of glasses from Rob's pocket.

Rian walks over to the cube-shaped phone resting on his nightstand and starts dialing a number. We wait for a few seconds before a deep voice answers. "Need any assistance?"

Rian glances at Rob's unconscious body and waves a hand to the limp figure. "Watch him," he mouths to me.

While still listening to the conversation, I slowly make my way over to Rob's body. He's spread out across the floor, with his face pressed against the kitchen tiles. That must hurt, falling straight on your face.

"We have a problem over here," Rian is saying to the phone. I don't take my eyes off Rob's face.

"What problem?" the man's voice replies from the phone. I cringe as his voice rings in my ears. My heart is still hammering hard.

"Robin Garmin is unconscious," Rian says.

There is a long pause before a voice starts talking. But instead of the man's voice, a very familiar female voice replaces it. "Robin Garmin?"

It's Janelle. My head snaps up to look at Rian. He looks surprised.

On the phone, Janelle clears her throat when no one answers. "Excuse me. What happened to Rob?"

A mumble comes from Rob and I immediately jump away, grabbing the knife off the table. His arm starts to move out from under him and I turn to Rian to see if he has noticed Rob's awakening.

He has, and he's watching him as he quickly says into the phone, "Nothing's happened. He's fine."

Janelle doesn't buy it. "What happened to him?" she asks again. "You said he's unconscious. What happened?"

Rian ends the conversation with, "Rob's not exactly sane right now. He's plotting to kill Vivian."

He hangs up before snatching the tablet off the counter.

Rob is slowly getting to his feet, pain expressed on his face as he presses a hand to his head. He's in too much pain to focus on us. Before he can raise himself further, Rian has already swung the tablet over Rob's head. Rob collapses onto the ground again and I want to laugh with relief and say the most cliched line ever: My hero.

But I remain silent.

Rian laughs for me. "I overpowered a thirty year-old man. Twice."

The phone starts beeping and I know someone's calling Rian. He strolls over to the phone to answer it. "Hey."

I'm not exactly sure if it's possible to check who's calling you before you pick up the phone. From my experiences, I think not. You'd just have to pick it up, not knowing who would be calling you.

"Mr. Callum," Janelle's voice says from the phone. "What do you mean Rob's not sane. What has happened? I have sent a group to come to you so you better explain this to me."

While Rian gives her a brief summary of what has happened, I walk over to Rob, making sure he's still unconscious. I have to be brave around this maniac. I can't just chicken out and freeze in place while he attacks me. But something tells me I'm not capable of being brave. As soon as he wakes up again, I'll probably run for it.

Rian is still talking to Janelle on the phone. "I'm glad you're sending a group of people down here, but maybe Rob can explain what happened."

Janelle's voice raises. "Mr. Callum! What do you mean Rob is plotting Ms. Clancy's murder? Why would he do such a thing?"

Rian looks at me quickly and I answer Janelle's question, "He said I killed his father."

There is silence at the end of the line for the longest time. Then a sigh, followed by Janelle saying, "Rob won't go that far. He won't hurt you. If he wanted to, he would have a long time ago."

Rian lets out a frustrated breath. "He brought a knife with him! He invaded Vivian's room in the middle of the night and watched her sleep."

His voice gets louder at each word and I'm afraid that would cause Rob to wake up again.

Janelle continues telling us that "Rob would never kill anyone" until Rian actually hangs up and puts the phone down.

No one calls again, but it doesn't take long for the group Janelle sent to get here.

Rob doesn't wake up. When the group arrives, I'm surprised I know most of the people who come. There are only three: Piers, Fox (the guy who also has the tattooed hand), and some lady I've never seen before.

Piers looks relieved that I'm alive and he gives me a quick pat on the back, asking me how I'm feeling. I tell him I'm fine, which is mostly the truth. But I'm also a little nervous. There's no knowing how Rob will be after he wakes up.

Rian, Fox, Piers, and the woman all stand over Rob's unconscious body while I keep my distance.

It's as if Rob can sense them there because he wakes up, hand on his head. He stares at the four people surrounding him and pushes himself up into a sitting position.

Then his eyes move to me and stares.

"What happened?" He sounds tired and confused. I haven't seen him like this before. He's always either ready to fight me or he's explaining something.

Piers pulls him to his feet and starts marching him toward the door. Rob immediately wakes up from his daze and tries to yank his arm free of Piers' grasp. Piers doesn't let go and Rob thrashes around even harder.

Fox and the woman are there immediately, restraining him.

Rian is already by my side, a hand on my shoulder. I'm guessing he's trying to keep me from lunging at Rob. I'm not going to do that.

Rob starts shouting. "I'll lock you up!" He points a finger at me. "I'll come back and I'll lock you up somewhere. I won't let anyone get away with my father's murder!"

Rian's grip on my shoulder tightens but I don't dare say anything to Rob.

Rian and I watch as Rob gets escorted out of the room. His shouts are still audible out in the hallway, but barely.

Rian finally lets go of my shoulder but he stays where he is. "We need to go find Jack."

He slips out of the room, and I follow him. Not too far away, I can see the three people pulling Rob along.

"Isn't Mr. Welds asleep?" I ask Rian, remembering it's two o'clock in the morning. Piers, Janelle, Rob, Fox, and that other lady are still awake, but that doesn't necessarily mean Mr. Welds is.

"Many of them of them stay awake until four or five." Rian shrugs.

"Five in the morning?" I say, disbelief in my voice. "Then what? They wake up at six? Or 5:30?"

I understand that these people can be busy most of the time, but trying to function on thirty minutes of sleep? But who knows, maybe they've managed to create something to keep them awake for this long.

The four people ahead of us have disappeared out of this corridor. They're already in the white hallway, but I can't see them.

Rian increases his pace, and I do the same hesitantly.

We reach the white hallway, and I spot Fox, Piers, the unfamiliar woman, and Rob not too far away from us. They're standing by a door. But just before they walk through it, I see Piers cast me a glance. Then they're gone.

After a few minutes of walking in silence in the dim hallway, Rian and I finally stop by a door.

Rian knocks two times and we wait, but it doesn't take the door too long to slide open. Once it does, I see there's no one standing there. Instead, as I peek into the room, I see Mr. Welds sitting at a desk in the corner of the room, watching us. He gestures us inside and the door slides closed.

This room is (not surprisingly) white. Just like the lounge I've been too, there is not a lot of furniture, leaving the room with unnecessary free space. There's a white couch up against the wall by the door along with a few pictures frames hanging on the walls. The paintings are to abstract for me to tell what they are supposed to be. There's the desk Mr. Welds is sitting at. It's made completely out of glass and I find myself staring at all of the transparent drawers. Not too much stuff fills them. I notice a few tablets.

"Would you like anything?" Mr. Welds asks us. He raises his eyebrows as Rian and I enter the room. "You're both here? Is this important?"

Rian nods his head. "I'm just going to get straight to the question because I believe whatever you've been hiding from Vivian should be revealed."

Mr. Welds smiles and folds his hands on the desk, nodding for Rian to go on.

Rian continues. "Rob said—"

"Multiple times," I add in quickly. But they ignore me.

"—Vivian murdered his father," Rian says. "So I think it's about time you told her what actually happened. She needs to know. And while you're at it, I'd like to know more about my past too. I've lived here for two years."

The smile on Mr. Welds' face leaves and he leans back in his chair, letting out a breath. It takes him a moment to say anything else.

And after a few seconds of silence, he says, "Couldn't Vivian have asked me this? If she was interested, then she would have asked me herself. Might I ask why you are asking for her?"

I did ask him. He just refused to tell me.

Rian's hands clench into fists. "Don't avoid answering this, Jack," he says.

Mr. Welds lets out another breath, folding and unfolding his hands a few times. I cross my arms, unsure how I want to stand.

I wait for an answer. Again, it takes several seconds before Mr. Welds actually answers.

"Yes, it's true, Miss Clancy." His eyes land on me. "Rob is telling the truth. Approximately thirty years ago, you were hired to assassinate the government leader, Thomas Garmin. He's Rob's father."

Chapter sixteen

V I V I A N

There are no logical words that I can think of to reply to what Mr. Welds has just said. My mouth keeps opening and closing but nothing comes out, only a pathetic squeak.

Somewhere, deep down inside of me, I had believed Rob's words. Since Mr. Welds has said it's true, now I am forced to believe it. It's true. I murdered someone.

I think I'm going to faint.

"Would you like to know more?" Mr. Welds asks.

I nod my head slowly. I need to know more. If I'm going to get attacked by a psycho, I should at least know the real reason behind it.

Mr. Welds sits up a little straighter and plays with two small cubes on his desk. He says, "Now I have most of your past and data memorized, so forgive me if I disturb you in any way. I've reviewed your documents more than once."

I nod to show him I understand. He continues. "You may want to sit down...unless you prefer to stand." He points to the white couch against the wall and waits for our decision. Rian immediately takes a seat on the couch and I plop down next to him.

"Continue," Rian tells Mr. Welds.

Mr. Welds clears his throat and wipes his hand on his shirt before beginning. "I don't know how hard this will be to believe, Miss Clancy." He pauses, clearing his throat again. "Ever since you were fifteen years old you were taken from your house to be trained as a heartless, impassive soldier. But that's my opinion, of course. Every soldier there seemed cold-blooded. Every soldier was trained to fight for the dictatorial government. But someone broke you out and you joined the group opposing the government. Before your murder, you helped the rebels for six years. The government that they were fighting against wasn't stable, so all it took to shut it down was the death of its leader, Thomas Garmin. And you, Ms. Clancy, were the one who killed him." Mr. Welds pauses to let me and Rian take it all in. I just stare at him.

"What about me?" Rian asks quietly. "Where was I?"

Mr. Welds sighs. "You," he says, "you were part of the rebelling group as well. You knew who Vivian was."

Rian and I exchange glances with each other. He knew me? How come I don't remember that? If I knew him from my past life, why am I not able to recognize his face right now? But then again, the only people I remember from my life are my parents and my brother.

How did I have another life before this?

"Why don't I remember any of this?" I ask.

Mr. Welds reaches into his lab coat pocket and sets a flat device onto the table. "Ms. Clancy, remember when I told you to let go of your past and start over?"

I nod but I don't agree with that quote. I don't want to let it go. I want to know more.

Mr. Welds flips the device over and over in his hand. I find myself staring at it.

"We altered a few things to make people forget about their past lives," he says. "We let them have the memories of their families but I think it's best that they forget who they used to be, don't you agree?"

Absolutely not. These strange scientists—who I wouldn't even want to call scientists—have stolen people's memories just because they think it's for the better? I don't really want to agree with that.

I stay silent, and Rian speaks instead. He points a finger at himself and almost stands up as he says, "I've been here for two years and you've never informed me of this?"

"We don't tell anyone else these things, so why would we tell you?" Mr. Welds asks.

"You've been training me to become a scientist," Rian exclaims. "Didn't you think I had a right to know who I used to be?"

Mr. Welds clears his throat and looks away for a few seconds. "Like I said...when you get the chance to start a life over, you take it. So we did that for you. We started your life over."

Rian leans back on the couch and lets out a breath. "So." He pauses. "When I was told my family died, was that the truth?"

Mr. Welds raises both of his eyebrows and a look of confusion passes over his face. "Of course it's the truth. Most people who have been revived have no family either. But some are lucky to have siblings here."

Just like me. My brother lives here.

Rian stares at the ground, thinking. When he looks back up, he's looking at me. He says, "Do you remember me from a long time ago?"

I'm caught by surprise by that question. It takes me a few seconds to actually answer it. "No. I don't."

Rian nods and turns back to Mr. Welds. "Are you sure you don't have us mixed up with someone else? Are you sure we were part of some resistance? Are you sure Vivian and I knew each other?"

"This is the complete truth. And yes, you two worked together for some of the missions. According to records, Vivian Clancy and Rian Callum met each other at the government base and both of you were broken out and welcomed into a rebel camp. This is the complete truth. We just felt the need to reunite you two again...so we did. We made Mr. Callum your tour guide," he tells me.

"You made me be Megan's tour guide," Rian says. "Does that mean I know her from somewhere too?"

Mr. Welds shakes his head. "I don't believe so."

I'm trying to believe this but I just can't grasp the fact that I had another life a long time ago.

Dying and freezing, then coming back to life again?

I shake my head. "H-how—?" My voice cracks. I start over. "How did I die?"

Mr. Welds doesn't wait to answer. "You were stabbed to death."

That sentence makes me shiver involuntarily.

It reminds me of Rob. Rob and the knife. Being stabbed to death....

"How did I die?" I say. And who killed me? Was it Rob? I want to ask, although I'm pretty sure it wasn't. Rob is thirty years old now, and I got stabbed thirty years ago. He would have been a baby then.

"Are you sure you want to know?" Mr. Welds asks quietly.

Rian nods while I say, "We came here to find out what happened to us. So tell us." I try to sound as polite as possible.

"Both of you," Mr. Welds begins, "were stabbed to death." He taps his chest, somewhere close to the spot where his heart is supposed to be located. "In the heart...three times."

I place my hand against my chest, imagining a knife being driven into my heart. Rob wanted to do that. He would have done that if...

If what? a voice says in the back of my head. If someone wouldn't have interfered? Who exactly was it that interfered? Maybe Janelle was right. If Rob had wanted to kill you so bad, he would have done it by now. He wouldn't have sat in that wheelchair with a knife in his hand—

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. What are you talking about?

My other voice doesn't answer.

"What about my parents?" I ask. I only have a vague memory of them. "How did they die? Who were they?"

The device clatters from Mr. Welds hands and onto the table. He picks it up again and starts playing with it, saying, "Your parents, if I remember correctly, were Allison and Grayson Clancy. They were not part of the resistance. They were normal people, struggling to fit into the society. They died of natural causes, just like I told you. They weren't murdered. I promise."

Promises coming from someone I don't know too well mean nothing to me.

He continues flipping the device around in his hand and I stare at it. It's not something I recognize. It's flat but not as thin as a tablet.

Stop fiddling with that! I want to tell him. Then I look down at my own hands and nearly laugh. My nails are digging into my jeans. I let my fingers relax.

I look over at Rian. He's leaning against the couch, his arms crossed. I try to do the same thing but don't feel comfortable.

"What do you mean they were struggling to fit into society?" I ask him, hugging my knees. "What was happening with the government?"

Mr. Welds shrugs like it's supposed to be obvious. "Oh, you know...if there's a dictator, there's bound to be a strict government." The device's screen lights up and he brings it close to his face, reading whatever has just appeared. He grunts one time before setting it down.

"What did they do to the people?" I ask.

Mr. Welds shrugs again. "They decreased people's food portions...or decreased people's payment. Many lost a lot of their rights." He takes a breath. "But the government has fallen long ago, and the earth is left only a ruin."

Rian finally speaks up. "It's possible that people still live on Earth, right?"

Mr. Welds' head bobs up and down. "A very large chance, for we cannot be the only human beings on Earth. There is life out there, yes. There are other continents."

"Have you tried looking for them?" I ask.

Mr. Welds shakes his head. "Ms. Clancy, we can't even get past the exit doors of this building. We've tried, yes. But it's not possible to succeed...yet."

"Yet?" Rian and I say in unison.

Mr. Welds scratches his head. "We are...currently working on it."

Rian holds up a finger. "Wait. Wait a second." He takes a deep breath and goes silent for several seconds. "That machine," he finally says. "That machine you showed me...um...a year ago."

Mr. Welds nods his head. "Correct. Yes. We even gave you a brief description of its purpose. You remember that?"

Rian nods. "You said you're working on developing a device to—"

"Convert the poisonous air into oxygen," Mr. Welds finishes.

I'm confused. How is that possible? The world is huge. It'll have to take a lot of power, brains, and planning to create something like this. And there's another problem. If people die when they make contact with the earth's air, how will anyone be able to bring that machine outside?

I ask that aloud.

"We've thought about it," Mr. Welds says as he glances at the device in his hand again. "So we've attempted to create something for that."

"Like what?" I ask.

Mr. Welds points to me and Rian. "We are testing our possible solutions right this minute. We are experimenting on seven people."

Seven people. What Rob had said to me floods into my mind.

You could think of yourself as special, but only because you are one of the seven people who had their heart made for them.

Mr. Welds is talking about us, the people with the tattooed hands. I look down at my right hand and curl my fingers, examining the swirl of black tattoos winding around my fingers.

So this is what they mean. We have an artificial organ inside of our bodies. Mr. Welds told me these marks classify us. They separate us from the regular humans. That way, just by looking at our hands, people will be able to know if we're the important projects or not.

"How can having a machine heart inside of us change anything?" I ask, looking back up at Mr. Welds. His eyebrows have raised.

"Heart?" he says. "You know about that?"

"Yes."

I look over at Rian. He's not saying anything. Maybe this information is hard for him to take in.

"Are you all right?" I ask him, tapping his shoulder gently so he knows I'm talking to him.

His head turns to look at me with a frown on his face.

He says, "Yes. I'm fine. It's just..." He turns back to Mr. Welds. "Why is this some big secret?"

Mr. Welds slides the small device to the corner of the table and says, "We didn't want to bring people's hopes up. They were ready to get out of here and into the open air. What if we fail? We aren't even sure this will work. Designing hearts to have enough power to keep a human being alive in an extremely cold and noxious environment? Does that seem possible to you?"

I start to shake my head, then remember they have already created these hearts and planted them inside us.

I nod my head instead.

All that's left is to test us outside in the Earth's air. "So basically, I have a robotic heart inside of me." I point to the spot my heart is supposed to be located. "Right here?"

"Precisely," Mr. Welds says.

This is hard to believe. I shake my head from confusion. "How is that possible? Did you cut us open?"

Mr. Welds shrugs. "Rian and you were stabbed in the heart. You were already cut open. The rest...yes, we had to."

I grimace when Mr. Welds says "stabbed." I don't want to imagine it. How much pain was I in when they stabbed me to death?

Rian speaks up, pointing to himself, then me. "Was anyone else who lives inside this building part of the resistance? Besides me and Vivian?" He holds up his tattooed hand. "Anyone with these?"

Mr. Welds shakes his head. "No one else with these marks, no. And yes, there are more people that live here who were part of the rebellion. But I'm not able to list them from the top of my head."

"Are there any people who were part of the rebellion that we've talked to?" I ask. "Maybe my brother?"

Mr. Welds says, "Ms. Clancy, we don't keep track of all the people you've talked to. And no, I believe your brother never joined the military or even the rebellion. He was too young."

My brother used to be five years younger than me. But now he's ten years older because he was thawed years earlier than I had been. He had a chance to live more years. But does he know all about this "Earth saving" project Mr. Welds is working on? Does he know about the artificial hearts? Does he know what the tattoos mean?

Is he part of this?

I clear my throat. "Mr. Welds?"

He looks at me. "Yes, Ms. Clancy?"

"Does my brother have any part in this?" I finish.

"A small part."

"What does he do?"

Mr. Welds reaches for the device on the table and presses a few buttons. Then he sets it down again. I don't understand what its purpose is.

"Well, Ms. Clancy," he says, "your brother is the one who gave us permission to place one of the hearts inside you. You are part of our project to save Earth. Our goal is to revive it. To revive the plants. To revive humans. To revive life on Earth."

I don't move, but only stare at a blank spot on the wall. Piers let them stick a fake heart inside me. But why? What if I—?

There's no point arguing with this. It's done.

They won't remove the heart anyway. Even if they would, I won't be able to live anymore. My original heart has probably been burned away by now.

"How am I part of the project?" I ask. "What's so special about people existing with special hearts?"

"The hearts will let you stay out in the earth's air longer than a normal human being can. It powers your body and causes you to be immune to the frost and toxic air. Over time of course, the heart's shield will die down. That might take a couple of hours, but that's plenty of time for you to place our machine in its proper spot. Then we will have to wait and see how it converts the air. Does it work, or do we have to restart the project all over again?"

I continue to stare at the wall without saying a word.

I forget Rian is sitting next to me until he says, "We're going outside?" He sounds almost excited.

"Yes," Mr. Welds says. "And I hope this mission will succeed."

"Are you sure these hearts will make us immune to Earth's air?" Rian asks.

"Only for a couple of hours. Like I said, these hearts have a shield. It's not activated yet. Once we do activate it, we'll send you out."

I'm feeling light-headed but I'm not sure why. It might have to do with me hearing the words "we'll send you out." Just the thought of being outside makes my head spin.

"When is this going to happen?" Rian asks.

Mr. Welds smiles. "We've finished the machine a couple of weeks ago. All we have left to do is get three of the seven people ready. There are approximately two weeks left until we are able to launch this project. I'm quite enthusiastic because we might actually have a chance to walk along earth's fields, touch the plants, and breathe the air very, very soon." Mr. Welds sounds like he's daydreaming. His voice sounds distant, but excited at the same time.

What they have planned to do sounds very interesting. It also sounds almost impossible. How were they able to create a machine that could convert the earth's poisonous air into breathable air?

"Ms. Clancy," Mr. Welds says quietly. I look over to him. "You have the newest heart inside of you. It's the smallest but the I believe it's the most efficient. So in order to try it out, we've chosen you to be one of the three people who will go outside to plant our machine in its rightful spot."

I take a slow breath, clasp and unclasp my hands, then breathe again. I say, "Is it true that Rob designed the heart I have inside of me?"

Mr. Welds nods. "He told you that?"

I nod back. Having a heart made by someone who wants to kill me doesn't exactly make me feel comfortable. Who knows what those hands did. What if he made a mistake? What if as soon as I step outside, I will die?

"We were going to have to tell you our plan sooner or later. The date of its launch is slowly crawling closer. Ms. Clancy," Mr. Welds says. "I know you've only been alive for four days, but are you ready to become part of the project?"

Aren't I already part of it?

I think my head goes up and down.

Rian raises a hand. "I'm going too."

Chapter seventeen

V I V I A N

Four days pass and all I do is sort bags at my job.

A few words with Verity are exchanged, but that's about it.

The project Mr. Welds had told us about has been on my mind. I've been asking about it for the past three days and all I've gotten is "Almost done" or "We have already chosen who will be doing what for this mission." Even Rian knows what's going on, yet he refuses to tell me.

But this morning, the date of a meeting has been revealed to me. November 17th, 2075.

Which is today. And I'm invited.

So here I am, sitting in the middle of a large, white room. White chairs have been placed in rows throughout the entire place. Words and laughs and the scraping of chairs all fill the room, but all I do is listen to them and fiddle subconsciously with my fingers.

Rian sits next to me. Fox, the guy who I learned will be coming outside with us, is sitting on my other side. Piers is somewhere in this room too; I just don't know where. The many people who have been invited to the meeting only wear lab coats, except me, of course.

The rest of the "regular" people don't know about the meeting. I remember Mr. Welds saying he doesn't want them finding out and getting their hopes up. Because what if the project is a failure? What if we'll never be able to go outside? Why tell the people there could be hope when easily, the program could collapse on all of us?

At the very front of the room stands Mr. Welds along with his brother, Russell Welds. Janelle is seated in a chair right next to them. Rob isn't here, and I haven't seen him in a while.

Mr. Welds clears his throat and his voice echoes through the speakers spread around the room.

The noise of the crowd ceases, and Mr. Welds steps forward, nodding at his audience as he pulls something out of his lab coat pocket. I can't see what it is as I'm too far away.

Mr. Welds presses the tiny object against the wall and a large projection screen materializes out of the air. Black letters appear on the screen, but the font is too small for me to read. I'm sure the people in the back can see it worse than I can.

A tall man sits in front of me. As soon as the projection screen appears, he straightens up in his seat, bringing his head right in front of me to block my view of the screen.

Damn it.

I lean to the right, careful not to lean right into Fox. He casts me a glance, but does not say anything.

I slump back in my seat and reach out to tap the man in the shoulder. He turns around to look at me.

"Yes?" he whispers. The room is dead silent so I don't know how loud his whisper is.

"Could you move your head a little?" I ask him as politely as I can. "I can't see the screen."

"Oh, sorry." He ducks his head. "Can you see now?"

I tell him yes.

Mr. Welds has started speaking.

"I'm very happy you were all able to make it," he says. "As you may have guessed, this meeting will cover a few questions you may have. We will go over our project and plans also. Dr. Janelle?" He points a finger at Janelle, who has already stood up from her seat. She holds a thin tablet in her hand.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen." She glances at the tablet, and I think her entire speech is written on there.

"We have finally selected the three people who will heading outside to place our machine in its proper spot. We have been working on this machine for over five years, and now, it has been completed. We are hoping this will work and we are grateful for everyone's support. I would like to announce these three courageous people who have volunteered for this mission."

I hadn't volunteered. Mr. Welds chose me.

"These courageous people are," Janelle begins, "Rian Callum, Vivian Clancy, and Foscet Manson." I'm caught by surprise at Fox's full name. I didn't know he has one.

There is a short round of applause. Fox has a grin on his face as he waves at the crowd of scientists.

I only shrink further into my seat. They don't need to applaud me. I'm probably headed to my death anyway.

Janelle sits down and Mr. Welds takes over. The noise ceases and he starts speaking. "Once again, for anyone who has helped with this project, thank you for your support. Without your help, we wouldn't be where we are.

"We're here today," he continues, "to inform you about our plans. So if you are staring off into space or dozing off, please wake yourself up."

Laughter sounds throughout the room, but I only look around, easily keeping the smile off my face.

Mr. Welds clears his throat. The projection on the wall next to him switches to a different slide. This new slide is green, containing the words: PROJECT EARTH.

There is a picture next to the text, but I can't see all of the details. The image appears to be of some kind of machine. Maybe the one that's supposed to convert the poisonous air into breathable oxygen?

Mr. Welds says, "This is an image of the device that we have been working on. Don't be fooled by the size in the picture. It's a fairly large object. It will need two to three people to move it."

The slide changes and a few more pictures appear. There's an image of the same machine from the previous slide and two other images of what appears to be a small blue chip.

"What you see here," Mr. Welds says, pointing to the two new images, "are a few pictures of the item that will need to be inserted into this machine. The chip is what activates it. After the machine is activated, signals will be sent to our system. From there, we will begin the conversion. If this machine works flawlessly, Earth's air should be converted to breathable air in about...one year."

Murmurs fill the room. Someone near me says, "I thought it will only take a few weeks to clear the air."

I snort to myself. Were they really expecting it to happen that quick? In a world so vast?

"As most of you here should know," Mr. Welds continues, "Protective suits will be provided for our three volunteers. They are especially made to keep the toxic air and chemicals away from human skin."

The slide changes and it's filled with text and no pictures. Again, the words are too small for me to read. Fox mutters something about not being able to read the text as well.

I shrug and focus back on what Mr. Welds is saying.

"...in a week, as you all may know by now."

The screen changes again, and this next slide holds three images of a suit. One from the front view, one from the back, and one from the side. The suit seems to be made of some sort of light, brown material. It's baggy, I notice as well.

The very top of the suit has a place to fit a human head. It also contains a pane glass for the face. It almost looks like a hazmat suit, but brown.

"These are the suits Mr. Callum, Ms. Clancy, and Mr. Manson are required to wear for this mission. Their hearts will power their bodies so they will not freeze from the extreme cold, while the material of the suit prevents the toxins from making contact with their skin. But just to be clear, the heart only powers the human body from the extremely low temperatures. Any questions?"

The assembly continues on for an hour or so. Mr. Welds allows his brother to share a few things with us as well. We are told of the plan again and how Rian, Fox, and I are supposed to put the suits on, then the mission will go from there.

This will happen in just a few days and I'm shivering from excitement just thinking about setting foot on Earth. How would it feel to stand out in the open space, overlooking—

Then I remember the dust. The dust I had seen when Rob had locked me out in that glass hallway.

Is that what we are going to have to walk through? Dust? We won't be able to see anything, so how are we expected to find the right location to place the machine?

Just as I'm wondering about that, Welds tells us about a GPS. A GPS Rian will be holding as we will walk across the land.

~~~

The assembly ends and Mr. Welds calls us three volunteers to the stage.

I trail behind Fox and Rian as they walk. Hundreds of eyeballs are directed at us as we struggle to squeeze past the aisles and chairs. Once we reach the front of the room, we climb the short staircase and arrive right on the stage.

The room starts to spin as I look down at the audience. My fingers fight with each other.

Fox waves at the silent crowd and Rian just stands there, arms crossed and his back stiff. I'm the shortest one on the stage. Fox and Rian tower over me by a lot.

Mr. Welds puts a hand on each of our shoulders. "These are our three lovely people."

Lovely?

"Give them a round of applause."

Everyone does.

Once it's quiet again, Mr. Welds calls, "Thank you for attending. Have a good rest of your day."

The audience stands up, but I'm not able to see what happens after that because Rian, Fox, and I are ushered out a door. Mr. Welds and Janelle are the ones guiding us through.

The door slides closed behind us, and we're in a new room.

I look around.

There are a few containers (a little taller than me) that are placed in rows around the whole room, creating aisles. Mr. Welds leads all three of us to the other side of the room. Janelle trails right behind us.

We stop in front of a container, and I take a good look at what's inside.

I'm expecting people, but there are no. There only seem to be suits in each of the containers. In fact, they resemble the suits in the picture back at the assembly. These must be the suits we will wear.

Mr. Welds taps the glass a suit is encased in. "These, my dear friends, are the suits you will be wearing." He gestures around the room. "As you see here, we've made quite a few. Many of them were a disaster. We still keep our failures."

Fox speaks up. "How are we supposed to know which is whose? Isn't there a certain size?" He points to me. "She's really short and there's no way she'll fit—"

"Mr. Manson," Mr. Welds cuts in. We do have sizes made especially for each of you. Come."

We follow him, but we don't even go that far. All it takes us are a few more steps to reach another container. This one has the same suit inside, but I notice there's number printed across the chest.

39-245.

Fox whistles and I have no idea why he's impressed. "Sweet," he says. "It's mine."

I look at him. "How can you tell?"

Fox frowns and points to the suit in the container. "My classification number's on there. See?" He leans against the glass casually and says to Mr. Welds, "Will we get to try them on today?"

Mr. Welds opens his mouth to answer but Janelle cuts in.

"No, Fox. You will put them on the day of your mission. I assure you, they fit perfectly." She glances at Mr. Welds and mutters to him, "Sorry, sir, for interrupting."

Mr. Welds dismisses her apology with a wave of his hand. He asks Rian and me, "Would you like to take a look at your suits?"

I shrug while Rian says, "Yes."

A couple of steps to the right and we're standing in front of another container. This one has a suit as well. The number 42-2 is printed across the chest this time. I step closer to my suit and stare at it. Fox is right—it is pretty sweet to see a suit you know is made for your size. It looks smaller than Fox's. I almost want to try it on.

"What does that number mean?" I ask, indicating to the number 42-2 on the suit's chest area.

Janelle says, "It's a classification number. Didn't someone tell you this already?"

I shrug. "Yes, but why do we have them? Can't you just use our regular names instead?"

"Well," Janelle begins, "there can be people with the exact same name as you and we want to know which Vivian was brought back to life first. This number helps us do that. The smaller the number, the longer you've been staying here."

Could that mean someone has the number one? "Is there someone with the exact name as mine living here?" I ask.

Janelle shakes her head.

We move on to Rian's suit. It's labeled with the number 41-5. Seeing this suits makes me excited. Just a few more days until we can finally head outside.

We don't spend too long looking at Rian's suit. But after we finish, Mr. Welds and Janelle lead us to yet another door.

We enter a small room.

This building has the most complex turns, doors, and rooms I have seen.

This small room is filled with so many objects that there's actually barely any room to move around. If I want to stand anywhere, I'd have to be careful not to bump into any tables or step on anything scattered across the floor. And even though this room is not very organized at all, Mr. Welds knows exactly where the thing he's looking for is located. He walks over to a small table in the corner and picks up an object. He spins around to face us and brings the object to our faces.

At first, it looks to be some sort of calculator, but as I squint at it longer, I see it's not. Mr. Welds flips it over so we can see the screen. There are plain letters at the top, saying: GPS.

Oh.

"Is that the—" Fox starts to say.

Mr. Welds interrupts him. "It's the GPS that should help you find your way to the proper location to plant the machine. This isn't the exact one. We assigned the GPS to Mr. Callum." He drops the small device into Rian's hands and everyone watches Rian as he stares at the screen.

"I've seen this before," he says.

Mr. Welds nods. "Indeed, you have."

He reviews the plan with us yet again, making sure we understand it. In the middle of his presentation, Janelle leaves, telling us she has to answer a call. I'm not sure where the phone she's talking into is but I catch a few of her words as she heads toward the door.

"Dr. Janelle here. Oh...what do you need?" The door closes behind her.

After Mr. Welds explains a few more things, he leaves all three of us alone with the last words of "Get to know each other. Ask questions. I'll be back in a few."

He leaves us in the disorganized room while Fox pulls a chair out from one of the tables to sit on.

He cracks his knuckles and opens his mouth. "Well, well, well...what do we have here? The people I shall be working with?"

Rian snorts but doesn't say anything.

Fox turns to me. "So...little girl—uh—how long have you been alive?"

Little girl? That's who he thinks I am?

I'm about to say something but he interrupts.

"Your name was mentioned countless times, but I completely forgot it."

"It's Vi—" I start.

Fox interrupts again. "Just kidding. I know your name. I've heard a lot about you." He grins.

I'm about to reply but he says, "Just kidding, just kidding. You're not that special."

I shut my mouth and stay silent. That's how he wants this conversation to go?

"So," Rian says. "Who will carry the machine?"

"You mean drag it?" Fox asks, pulling another chair out to throw his feet on. "You heard what Jack said. It's too heavy for just one person to carry."

"Then two people can carry it," Rian answers.

Fox points a finger at me. "Give her something light, like the chip. That should be easy to carry."

"Hey!" I exclaim. "I can carry heavier—"

Fox cuts me off. "Yeah, right. I really doubt you'll be able to carry more than ten pounds." He gestures at me. "I mean, look at you. You're so scrawny and short."

I cross my arms and shrink back. I can't believe I'm letting his words get to me. I'm twenty-one.

"Oh, and you might lose it," Fox adds. "So someone else should carry it—"

"Fox, that's enough," Rian snaps, kicking the chair away from underneath Fox's feet. "I'll take the GPS. You take the machine. Vivian takes the chip. We'll help you carry the machine."

"That—" I try to say.

"Vivian," Rian says. "Stop. Just calm down. It'll be fine."

I decide it will be better not to comment, so I find a random chair to sit down in. Fox starts tapping his foot on the floor, and Rian plays with the GPS.

"Ahem," Fox says, breaking the silence. "Uh...don't you guys think it's cool that we have our own suits with our own sizes?"

I let Rian answer this. "Not really," he says. "It's kind of like wearing normal clothes that fit your size. There's nothing special about that."

Fox just shrugs and reaches for a random object on the table next to him. It's a spring. He tosses it back and forth in his hands and I avert my eyes, deciding to look at my hands instead.

No one talks for the next couple of minutes. Finally, Mr. Welds comes back. Janelle follows behind him.

I stand up from my chair as they enter. Fox remains seated in his chair. Rian never sat down.

"Hello again," Mr. Welds greet us. He clears his throat and looks at me for a few seconds. "Ms. Clancy, something unexpected came up."

I don't know what to say. Has the mission been canceled?

"W-what's wrong?" I ask him.

Mr. Welds' eyes shift away from mine for a second. "Um, Mr. Robin Garmin has requested to speak with you."

I freeze.

I'm not going to him. All these days have passed, and I have not heard from him. Now he wants to talk? He must have planned something out.

"He's in a cell," Mr. Welds interrupts my thoughts. "So there shouldn't be any worries. Dr. Janelle will accompany you the whole time. Robin said it'll only take a second. Would you be willing to visit him?"

No.

I take a deep breath and nod my head quickly. "Yeah, sure," I whisper, wiping my hands on my jeans. I cast a glance at Rian and Fox to see how they're reacting to this.

Fox looks like he's waiting for us to leave while Rian asks, "Could we go with her?"

Fox brightens up. "I agree with that. We should come see Rob with her. You heard what he wanted to do. The more people protecting her the better, right?"

Mr. Welds shakes his head. "No need. He's locked up. Come, Vivian." He gestures for me to follow him. "We'll be back soon," he tells Rian and Fox as we pass through the doorway.

I'm not exactly sure where they are keeping Rob. Mr. Welds said in a cell. There are cells here?

We're back in that vast, white hallway again. I'm walking behind Janelle and Mr. Welds, wondering why Rob wants to see me.

We pass through another door and this time, enter a narrow, white hallway. Except this isn't just a regular hallway. On each side of the walls, there are cells. Regular prison cells containing living people. The prisoners stare at me as I enter, but I try not to pay too much attention to them. My stomach twists. Are these people locked up because they committed crimes?

Mr. Welds says, "Dr. Janelle will take it from here. Rob is a few cells away, so you'll find him."

He leaves me with Janelle.

A familiar voice calls out, "Dr. Janelle? Dara!"

A hand squeezes through the bars of a cell not too far away from me. Rob.

Janelle gently pushes me forward, toward Rob. As we near his cell, he stares at me, not saying a word.

I clench and unclench my sweaty hands a couple of times, then wipe them on my jeans. Rob's eyes switch first to Janelle, then to me. Then back and forth again.

Janelle sighs with annoyance. "She's here, Robin. Now talk."

Chapter eighteen

V I V I A N

Rob stares at us, but he's not angry.

At first, he only has one word for us. "Dara."

Janelle growls. "You want to talk to her, then talk. Please," she adds, her impatient tone not changing. "We don't have all day."

Rob wraps his fingers around the cell bars and looks at me, saying, "You killed my father."

I want to snort with laughter. He has repeated this so many times, and I just don't understand why he won't stop.

Janelle hisses, "Listen Robin, if that's all you want to tell her, then this is a waste of my time. Of our time." She points a finger to herself.

Rob glares at me, but I feel no fear. There are bars in front of him, and he has no weapons.

"That's not it," he says. "She has to see the proof with her own eyes."

Janelle puts a hand on my shoulder. I shift my foot. "She doesn't have to see anything," she says. "The past is the past. She has to let it—"

"Stop," I cut in, brushing Janelle's arm away. "I actually want to see it."

Janelle doesn't look away from me as she says, "Your stomach is too weak to handle this."

I don't know if it is or not. In answer, I shrug. "So you still have the proof? A video?" I ask.

Janelle's gaze shifts over to Rob. "Um...no. No, of course not."

Oh, really? I know she's lying. She just doesn't want me to see it.

Rob doesn't play along with Janelle. "They keep most of the records in an employees only room," he says. "Trusted workers with access."

Janelle pounds her fist on the cell's bars and a loud bang rings throughout the room. I jump in surprise, then grimace. That must have hurt.

Most of the people here have turned their eyes on us. They have stopped talking to listen to our conversation.

"You're not allowed to enter that room," Janelle tells me. "Amateurs like you could tear the whole place apart as soon as you step in. We don't need that."

"I thought you just said you don't have the proof," I say.

Janelle's voice turns cold. "I lied, and I'm not giving you permission to access it."

"But I'd like to see it," I say. I turn to Rob. "Where is it?" I ask him.

"Ms. Vivian," Janelle says. "When something is classified, you are expected to stay away from it, don't you understand that? Now, Robin...will that be all of our precious time you will waste?"

"No, Dara," Rob says. "Look, just show her the proof so she'll know what she did. You can't hide it forever."

"We can if we want to," Janelle says firmly. "People should be ridden of their past lives in their new world. Whatever Jack has told you about your past," she tells me, "is all you should know."

Rob focuses back on me. "My mother wanted me to avenge my father's death once she heard the murderer was living here." He pauses as if deciding if he should say the next thing. He shakes his head snorts quietly. "I was actually willing to kill you. Now it seems like a stupid idea."

Janelle crosses her arms. "Maybe it's because you're behind bars and you can't do anything. We're still not letting you out."

Rob looks up at the ceiling and closes his eyes. After a few seconds, he lets out a sigh and looks up. "Dara—"

A male voice from one of the cells cuts him off. "They're not letting you out, you dimwit." Most of the room is still silent and everyone continues to watch us.

"They should," Rob says. "I've been living here for thirty years. I'm a scientist—"

"Right," the same voice says. I don't know which cell it's coming from. "You're a scientist."

Rob grits his teeth and slams a hand on the bars.

Damn. He's just like Janelle. Doesn't he know it's painful? He doesn't show any pain, though.

"I designed a heart," he nearly yells. "Wouldn't you call me a scientist?"

"Calm down." Janelle mutters.

I could say the same thing to her. She punched the cell too.

Rob doesn't listen to her. "Wouldn't you?" he says to the spot the male voice is coming from.

"No," the voice answers. "No, I wouldn't. More like an engineer. Hell, maybe even a random human being they asked to help."

Are they really arguing about what Rob's position here is? Is that all Rob wants to tell me? You killed my father, now go see the proof?

Janelle's thinking the same thing. She pulls in a breath. "Robin, if that will be all, I think we're heading out."

She's about to turn toward the door when Rob says, "Show her the proof of the murder, Dara. That's all I need you to do. Do it."

Rob barely even knew his father, right? He was only like what, a year old when his father died?

I still can't believe I actually have blood on my hands from so long ago. How am I capable of killing anyone? I need to see this proof. I need to see what I've done.

Janelle sighs. "Be glad your mother is not locked up like you. But if she ever tries anything, we will be sure to lock her up."

If she tries anything? She's alive?

"Wait," I say, holding up a finger. "She's here? In this building?"

Janelle gives a small nod. "Alive and breathing."

"How old?"

"Fifty-seven," Rob says.

My mouth opens, but I shut it.

What if Rob's mother wants to finish what her son failed to do?

"D-does she know how I look like?" I ask, clasping my hands nervously in front of me.

"She's seen pictures of your face."

I swallow and stare at a bar of a cell.

"She won't come after you," Janelle tries to reassure me. "We'll keep an eye on her."

I shake my head, not because I'm disagreeing with Janelle (which I'm not), but because I think this is ridiculous. There are two people who want to kill me now because of a crime I'm not even sure I committed.

If Mr. Welds said I did murder Thomas Garmin, then it might actually be true. But I can't really grasp that idea. Me? Killing a person?

"Show it to her and I'll leave you alone," Rob says to Janelle. "You won't hear from me again."

I don't know what he means by that. Is he going to stop trying to avenge his father's death?

Janelle sighs, "Robin, I don't see how letting her see an assassination will do anything for us."

It will do something for me. I'd get to see myself...murdering someone. How did I do it?

"I want her to see it—" Rob stops when Janelle grabs my arm. She starts pulling me toward the door, but Mr. Welds is already standing there.

When did he get here? Janelle seems startled to see him here too because she lets go of my arm and freezes. Rob has gone silent.

"Is that all?" Mr. Welds asks, arching his eyebrows. "Was it anything important?"

Janelle seems like she's in a hurry to get out of here. She starts shaking her head even before Mr. Welds has finished speaking. "How long have you been standing here?" she asks.

Mr. Welds glances at his wrist, pulling his sleeve back a little to reveal a thin, white watch. He inspects it for a few seconds before saying, "Not too long. I stepped inside here a few seconds ago." He opens the door and waits until Janelle and I walk through the open doorway and into the vast hallway.

"Mr. Welds?" I ask as soon as he closes the door behind him.

"Yes, Ms. Clancy?"

"Could I get—?"

Janelle grabs my arm. "Vivian, your question may not be that important. Please be quiet while we walk."

I want to get permission to see the video of me murdering Rob's father. How is that not important? She just doesn't want me to see it, that's all. That let go of the past and start over nonsense is what's in her head right now.

I decide not to continue my question, but Mr. Welds asks, "Pardon, Ms. Clancy? Could you get what?"

"Sir, are we headed back to Fox and Rian?" Janelle quickly cuts in, brushing the sleeves of her white lab coat.

Mr. Welds nods. "Yes. We have to perform a short test before the mission. I was thinking maybe it'll be a good idea to do that a couple of days before the launch of the project." He turns to me. "Ms. Clancy, what were you saying?"

I open my mouth to ask a question, but Janelle beats me to it. "Sir, have you revealed all of the information about the suits?"

Janelle keeps distracting Mr. Welds from whatever I want to ask. Why can't she just let me ask the stupid question?

Mr. Welds shakes his head slowly. "Not everything, Dr. Janelle," he says. "I don't really think they want to know every detail of the suits' creation. We didn't tell you about the glass, Ms. Clancy, did we?"

Janelle just succeeded in changing the subject. How should I congratulate her?

"What glass?" I ask.

"Then we didn't," Mr. Welds says. "You remember the self-mending glass you said you saw?"

"Yes."

"We have improved it to used it on the suits to cover the face."

I nod, that question I want to ask still on my mind.

"Ms. Clancy, what was it that you had your mind—?"

"Sir," Janelle interrupts. "Sir, why won't you use regular glass? Why use glass that heals?"

I blow air through my nose and look away, absolutely certain of what she's trying to do.

Mr. Welds' eyebrows knit together. "Dr. Janelle, why exactly would you ask that? Don't you already know?"

"Sorry, sir," she mumbles. "Just thought Vivian should know."

"If Vivian has interest in this, she would have asked me herself. Please, Dr. Janelle, stop interrupting Ms. Clancy. She has a question."

Janelle purses her lips and slows down so she's walking behind us.

"Ask away, Ms. Clancy," Mr. Welds says.

I scratch behind my head and wonder if I should ask or not.

I make my decision.

"Can I see the video with Rob's father's assassination?" I blurt out.

"You want to see the news?" Mr. Welds asks, raising both eyebrows. "The live footage? I mean, it's not live anymore, but are you really interested in it?"

"Yes."

Janelle sighs behind us.

Mr. Welds laughs a little. "Ms. Clancy, you obviously are not willing to let go of your past."

That's what I already said.

"Are you sure you want to see it?" Mr. Welds asks. "You want to see yourself shooting a human?"

"Yes," I say again, reluctantly this time.

Mr. Welds shrugs as if he can't change my decision. But he can. All he has to do is tell me how bloody it will be. How scary it will be. How—

"How soon do you want to view it?" he asks.

I look at him. "Now."

I'm in a chair, facing Mr. Welds, who's seated behind a desk. We're an office—an empty office.

Janelle left us, telling us she has other errands to run.

There's a tablet in my hand. It's turned off, but Mr. Welds urges me to turn it on. I do, placing two fingers in the corner of the screen like I'd done my first time here.

Huh. My first time. It feels so long ago but I've been here for just a few days.

I take a deep breath as the screen lights up. Mr. Welds hands me a tiny object in a shape of a USB drive. He tells me to insert it into the tablet.

After several confusing seconds of trying to find the place I'm supposed to put it in, I finally find it.

A blank window pops up on the tablet's screen, and I wait, hoping to see something. There is no "play" button.

"Are you ready, Ms. Clancy?" Mr. Welds asks, folding his hands on the desk.

He must have watched this video multiple times. It might not bother him anymore. This will be my first time watching it. Watching myself murdering someone.

Am I ready?

I don't know.

But I nod, and Mr. Welds says, "Tap the screen."

Chapter nineteen

V I V I A N

The video begins, and my heart starts pounding.

The scene begins in a public location. There are loud crowds looking up at a stage and cameramen running around. I do not see myself yet.

The camera switches to a view of the stage, where a wooden podium stands. There are two people dressed in black on either side of the podium. Bodyguards. Behind them, there is a door.

It opens.

I hold my breath.

A tall man steps out, wearing a perfectly neat, black suit. The camera zooms in, and my ears pop as soon as I see his resemblance to Rob. The same brown hair, the same round nose. That's his father.

This is the man I killed. This leader. Thomas Garmin.

My grip on the tablet tightens as I grit my teeth. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mr. Welds watching me.

In the video, Rob's father—Thomas—walks over to the podium. The two body guards by his side salute him. They have blank expressions on their faces.

My lungs shrink.

I recognize one of the body guards, but not the other one.

Short stature. Brown hair. Pale face.

It's me. Vivian. I'm one of the body guards.

My heart is racing fast now, keeping rhythm with my trembling hands. The tablet shakes right along with them.

Here I am.

Me, looking so different.

Vivian's (in the video) hair is pulled up in a ponytail.

She's so close to the man she's going to kill. If she moved her arm slightly to the left, she would be able to touch him.

What's going through her head? How is she feeling? Her expression is unreadable. There is no fear, no happiness, and no sadness on her face.

Thomas sets a sheet of paper down onto the podium, promptly clearing his throat. A microphone is attached to his ear, and when his voice resonates from the hidden speakers, the noise of the crowd ceases.

The camera zooms out until I can see Thomas' entire figure as well as the two body guards'.

The leader starts with a speech. He clears his throat and begins with a loud voice, "We are gathered here today in honor of Independence Day. Before we celebrate, I want to remind each and every one of you of the incident that has occurred. You are all aware of the increase in the rebellion members. We don't want our country to fall..."

I'm not paying attention to his words anymore. My attention has gone to Vivian in the video. Her hand is slowly curling into a fist.

I brace myself for what's about to happen...but there's nothing yet.

I continue to wait, barely listening to Thomas' speech.

Vivian's eyes start to scan the crowd, and I'm sure she's waiting for a signal of some sort.

Rian had been a member of the rebellion. Was he in the crowd somewhere?

In the video, the sudden sound of a gunshot stirs the crowd. They scatter, their panicked cries vibrating the tablet in my hands. In the middle of it all, a fire has started.

The camera switches back to Thomas and the two body guards. The leader's speech stops just as soon as his face goes pale.

Vivian is still standing in place, unmoving. The other bodyguard by Thomas' side is still too.

I wait for something to happen. How many seconds are left before—?

Vivian moves.

She twists around to come face to face with Thomas, pulling something out from behind her back simultaneously.

A gun.

She presses it to Thomas's forehead and...

She shoots.

My hands go weak, and I nearly drop the tablet in my hands.

Thomas' body flies backward from the force of the bullet, and he crumples to the floor. He's dead...and I am responsible.

In the video, Vivian has already started running. The door Thomas had walked through bashes open for her. She slips through it before anyone can react. The camera goes black. I don't know what happened to Vivian after that.

I start thinking it's the end of the video, but a few seconds later, the screen on the tablet lights up again.

A woman stands in front of a camera, a microphone in her hand. She's wearing a gray blouse with a matching skirt. A blue bar appears on the bottom of the screen. Her name is written across it.

She is a reporter.

Tears stain her eyes but she doesn't raise a hand to wipe them. Her knuckles have turned white from clutching the microphone hard. When she speaks, her voice cracks.

"Thomas Garmin's assassination has taken a turn in our generation. People are—" she sniffs and points at the crowd behind her "—going wild in the crowds. Garmin didn't die with nothing. He has the support of his people. Police are doing everything they can to track down the murderer. Evidence points that the group who calls itself Chaos is at fault. They have caused this chaos in our city, therefore they have to be eliminated."

The screen goes black again but this time, the video has ended.

I'm staring at the tablet while Mr. Welds watches me.

I feel sick. My head is spinning and I think I'm going to vomit. The tablet falls from my hands and onto the desk next to me. I will myself to take deep breaths, but the image is still stuck in my mind.

I killed him.

Mr. Welds tilts his head. "Would you like to see your own murder?"

I swallow, about to shake my head. But yes, I want to see it.

I nod.

"Ms. Clancy, it is obvious you can't take this. Perhaps at a later time?"

"I do." I nod again. "I do want to see the other video."

Looking hesitant, Mr. Welds reaches behind the desk, pulling out another small flash drive. "These are shortened versions of the full video. "

I take the flash drive from him with trembling hands, wishing this to be some kind of sick joke. Once the tablet is back in my hands, I insert the small device.

A window pops up. I click the screen and clench the tablet as hard as I can.

The video begins in a crowded place again. There is a stage, but it's not the same one Thomas Garmin stood on. A large crowd stands below the stage, yelling protests I can't understand.

Five people have been lined up on the stage. They are on their knees, hands chained behind their backs.

A male figure stands in front of them, but I don't know who he is. The camera doesn't focus on his face. However, it does pass over each of the five people's faces. They look tired and frightened at the same time.

I clench my teeth hard as I realize who two of the five people are.

Rian...and me.

In the video, I'm right next to him. We exchange glances, and both of our expressions look as if we are ready to welcome death. That thought brings tears to my eyes. I use the back of my hand to wipe them.

I can't just die.

But I did, and I can't redo it.

Another man appears. He stands behind one of the chained people—a woman who's looking down at the ground.

I can't breathe anymore as he grabs her by the neck and pulls her head back. The dark figure who hasn't shown his face yet walks up to her. A large knife is in his hand.

I hold back a scream as he drives it through the woman's heart three times, splattering red on the stage. She collapses, her mouth wide open.

The unknown figure calmly moves on to the next person. He does not hesitate, and he does not say anything.

No one is fighting back. They are just watching.

Rian is next in line.

But I can't take this anymore. I drop the tablet onto the desk just as I hear a female voice scream Rian's name. My voice.

I scramble for the door, tears streaming down my face.

Why did I think I could watch this?

But Mr. Welds wants me to keep watching it because he calls, "Don't you want to see the face of your murderer?"

Chapter twenty

V I V I A N

Seven days have passed.

There are only three days left until the mission.

Three days.

This is the day they have decided to do that test. By test, they mean: insert a tracer into the subject's arm.

My head starts spinning after I'm finished with the test, so I'm handed a pill. But I freak out.

I'm paranoid it's going to kill me.

I clench it in the palm of my hand and force myself to calm down. I've been trying to hide this strange condition for the past week. It had started after I had watched those two videos.

The day I saw the proof, I ran out of the room and hadn't come back ever since. Because I have not come back to finish the video, my murderer's face is still unknown. He's probably dead by now.

I close my eyes and hold my breath, popping the pill into my mouth and trying to reassure myself that it won't kill me.

I hate that video.

Fox and Rian are still occupied with the test as I sit here in a chair, waiting alone in this small, empty room. There are two doors here. One leads out into the large white hallway while the other one leads into the testing room where Rian, Fox, and a couple of doctors are in.

I run my index finger over the spot on my shoulder. A small red line marks the place where they had injected the tracer.

There are a total of two tracers inside me now. One tracer's signal only reaches inside the building, while this new one was specially made to track me while I'm outside on the earth's surface.

"It's an improved version," they had said to me.

I wonder if I can pull the tracker out of my arm. It's not very deep in my flesh. A small black sphere is visible through my skin.

I shiver and avert my eyes from my arm. That's not a good idea.

The door opens and I look up to see Fox walking out of the testing room, something between a smirk and a smile plastered on his face. Rian must have not finished yet.

Fox takes a seat in the chair next to mine. He inhales a deep breath and stretches his long legs out.

"Three days," he says. "Can you believe it? Three days and we'll be outside. Ah, I haven't been able to touch air in so long. There's—"

"You still won't be able to touch it. It's poisonous. You'll be wearing a suit, don't forget," I say.

"I didn't forget. I was talking about the time when the air will actually be clean. Then I'll be able to go outside."

"If the machine works."

"Stop being so pessimistic," he says.

"Stop being so optimistic."

"At least I have hope."

Then it's silent until Fox starts tapping his foot on the floor.

I rub my face with my hands. Everywhere I turn, there seems to be a way I could die. Even the chair I'm sitting on. It can shatter from right under me and impale me and—

What is wrong with me?

Stupid, stupid video.

I smack my hand against my forehead, grunting. I'm not doing a very good job hiding my frustration, and I don't doubt Fox is looking at me like I'm crazy.

"Um," Fox says. "Are you...okay?"

I turn to him to see he's leaning away.

"I'm fine," I say, turning back to my hands. "When is Rian coming?"

Fox looks toward the door. "He was almost done when I finished."

Just as he says that, the door opens and Rian steps out.

Fox laughs. "Speak of the devil and he shall appear." He jumps to his feet, following Rian as he heads toward the exit. I pull myself from my chair and trail behind them, slower than I mean to.

I hear Fox say to Rian, "Girl over there doesn't look too good." He turns his head slightly to me. "You don't look so good," he repeats.

Rian glances at me and stops by the door, his hand hovering on the doorknob. "How are you feeling?" he asks.

I don't know how obvious the sick look on my face is, but it must be obvious enough. I answer, "I'm fine."

Fox opens the door before Rian does and steps out into the hallway. "You don't look fine," he calls over his shoulder.

Rian sighs and takes a few steps toward me. "Do you need anything? Medicine? Food, maybe?"

Not medicine. But food sounds good right now.

Rian says, "You look pretty terrible, I'm not gonna lie."

My hand goes to my forehead as the world spins for a second. The second passes and I feel fine again. I try to straighten up and move toward the door. "I'll be fine," I say to Rian.

Fox shrugs (if even though no one said anything to him) and continues walking into the hallway, door swinging shut behind him.

I follow him out with Rian behind me.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

I don't think I'll collapse. I nod.

"Hey, slow pokes," Fox calls. "Will you pick up the pace?"

"Where would we possibly be going?" Rian calls back.

Fox turns toward us but continues to walk, only backward. He spreads his arms out. "Well, it's lunch time right now and I figured I could talk to you guys, you know, since I'll be working with you in a life or death mission. I don't want you to hate me." He slows down to let us catch up to him.

There's nothing to talk about, so most of our way to the cafeteria is silent. Not a lot of people are heading in the same direction we are so I think most of the cafeteria is already filled. We'll be there later than usual.

The large entrance door to the lunch room is jammed with people when we reach it. There is a large line waiting to get their food.

Fox pushes through the crowd blocking the doorway and waits for a few seconds for me and Rian to catch up. As I try to squeeze through the crowd, a few people elbow me. Rian and Fox manage to get deeper into the crowd than I do.

"Excuse me," I say. My voice comes out weak and quiet. I clear my throat and keep moving, shooting out a few apologies to let people know I want to pass.

I finally detach myself from the crowd and step into an open space. I breathe easier.

Rian and Fox stand by me and I jump, startled. I did not notice them earlier.

"Should we cut to the middle of the line?" Fox yells over the noise. He says this as if he cuts people in line every day.

"No," Rian answers him.

"Well, we should be allowed to since we're special." He looks around for (I'm guessing) the end of the line. When he spots it, a disappointing frown appears on his face. The line of people winds around the whole room, and I think this line is the longest one I've seen so far.

"We're not special," I say. "We're just regular people. Just be patient."

"Yeah, but the line decreases so slowly!" Fox exclaims, taking large steps toward the end of the line. Rian and I follow him.

Instead of reaching the end of the line, Fox slips in between people somewhere halfway down. The girl we have cut in front of gives all three of us dirty looks. She doesn't say anything and neither do we.

The line of people trying to get their food continues to decrease until finally, Fox, Rian, and I are five people away from the food panel. Fox gets his food first, and Rian goes next. They wait for me while I get mine, and we set off on a journey, trying to look for a table to sit at.

Fox seems to know where he wants to go because he practically speedwalks across the whole cafeteria. He plops down at a table that I am hesitant to sit at. It's crowded here and I can't really see how I'm going to find a spot to sit.

Rian sits down next to Fox. I slowly follow.

It's a tight squeeze so I try to keep my arms as close to my body as possible. I'm pressed up against Rian and some random guy. My breaths come out slow and steady at the tightness.

Glancing around, I am surprised to see a few familiar faces.

Megan, Verity, and Addison. Right between Megan and Verity sits a young girl. Her face resembles Verity's and Megan's. Judging by her hair and how it matches the two girls', I make the conclusion that all three of them are sisters. The young girl must be Verity's twelve year-old sister Fawn.

Megan gives me a shy smile and continues stuffing food into her mouth. This is the first time in several days that I've seen her. I ask, "Hey, how are you getting along here?"

She brushes a few crumbs off her shirt and says with a smile, "Pretty well, actually. I've started taking some classes. I never knew they had school here."

Neither did I.

"Hey, hey, hey!" A voice booms out from behind me, almost in my ear. Rian jumps at the sound. I shrink down, knowing who it is immediately. He found this table quickly.

I turn my head to greet the person standing behind me. My brother.

"Any open spots left for me?" he asks.

Everyone else isn't really paying attention to Piers. Except Megan. She's staring at him like he's an alien.

"Any spots?" Piers repeats, bringing his face close to the ear of the guy who's sitting next to me. He almost shouts as he says, "Scooch, please. I'd like to sit by my sister."

There's barely any room left to move but the guy doesn't protest. He struggles out of his seat and picks up his food, walking off in silence. I squint my eyes at Piers but he only laughs as he squeezes into the open seat. He's bigger than the previous guy so now there is even less space left for me.

Piers bites down into his sandwich. Chewing, he says, "Some guy dropped a flask today back at the lab. He's lucky it wasn't anything toxic or else it would've made a hole in the floor."

No one seems to be listening to him.

It's almost impossible to breathe from the tight space. Rian has started talking to Fox, and I can hear their conversation. However, they're not talking about the mission because we were told not to discuss it with anyone except for the people who are already part of it.

I need to leave. The idea of eating my food alone sounds better than eating it here.

I tap Piers' arm and say, "Can you move a bit? I need room to stand up."

Piers blinks at me. "Are you leaving now? But I only just got here."

I shrug. "I'm not very comfortable."

He stares at me with narrowed eyes. For a moment, I think he's going to go back to his food, but he leans away as far as he can, giving me enough room to pull myself out of the tight space.

Right before I leave, Rian notices the empty spot where I used to sit. He turns around to look at me. "Where are you going?" he asks.

"Leaving." I grab my food from the table and set out toward the exit. The crowd by the door is not as packed as usual.

A hand clamps down on my shoulder and I jump, nearly dropping the food in my hands. Piers appears by my side.

"How are you feeling about the mission?" he asks after we step out into the large hallway. It's a lot less noisy out here.

He knows about the missi—oh, of course he does. Mr. Welds was the one who told me my brother gave them permission to stick an artificial heart inside me.

"Feeling fine about it," I say, know fully well that I just told a lie.

"Did they tell you how they're deciding to launch the mission a day earlier?" Piers asks me.

I nearly trip over my feet, causing half of my food contents to plop to the floor. I look down at the slices of fruit and sigh.

No, they did not tell me they wanted to launch the project a day earlier. Here I am, trying to fix this weird condition I have and they just made it worse by moving the launch date of their project up one day.

I continue walking, having no destination in mind.

"So you're okay with that?" Piers asks, falling into step next to me. "You're okay with this mission starting in two days?"

Two days. Not three, but two.

I rub my forehead and try to get that thought out of my head. I'll just have to hold myself together. I don't want to quit this mission. I want to go out there.

I break into a sprint, finally knowing where I need to go.

Piers is taken by surprise by my sudden action. He stares after me for a few seconds before taking off too. He calls, "Where are you going?"

I'm not sure where any of the Welds are, but I have a pretty good idea where Janelle's office is located.

They can't change the date of the launch without telling me. I have to ask Janelle what's going on.

"Where are you going?" Piers repeats.

I didn't answer him the first time and I'm not answering him now.

"Vivian!" he calls, catching up to me and sticking an arm out to block my way. I duck under it and skid to a stop by a white door.

My brother watches me with a frown on his face as I push the door open. A wave of pride washes over me. I actually found Janelle's office.

She's sitting at her desk.

I take a deep breath and try to recover from my sprint. Piers appears by my side as I step into the room.

"What do you want?" he asks, looking around.

Janelle looks up from her work at the table and spots us. She gives Piers a welcoming smile while rewarding me with a frown.

"What do you need?" she asks.

I walk up to her desk, still panting from the run. Each word is strained as I say, "Was the project launch date moved up one day?" I'm expecting an instant answer, but it doesn't come. "Was it?" I ask louder.

Janelle gingerly picks up a pen from the table and clicks it once. Then one more time. I tap my foot as I wait for her answer. She clicks the pen another time before clearing her throat.

She is not going to use the pen as a weapon, is she—?

I shake my head and continue to stare at Janelle. She tilts her head but does not say anything.

I take a deep breath and try again. "Dr. Janelle, was the date of the launch moved up?"

Instead of her answer, I get Piers'. "Yes, they decided to change it. I already told you. Is that why you came here?" He grabs my shoulder and pulls me away from her desk, probably afraid I might lunge at her. I have no intention of doing so. I'm just trying to ask a question.

Shrugging out of Piers' grip, I say, "Why would they change it? Why do they want to start earlier?"

Janelle drops her pen back on the desk and clicks her tongue. "What's the matter? Frightened of the outside?" There is a hint of a smirk on her face. "Are you afraid, Ms. Vivian?" She nearly spits my name out.

She scoffs and leans back in her chair, examining the edges of her lab coat sleeves. "The date was moved because it's been decided that the sooner the project commences, the faster it will be completed."

I feel like my mouth is hanging open.

I'll be outside in two days, that is if I don't die of a heart attack.

"Who else knows about this? Fox? Rian?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "Out of you three, you only know about it. We were going to announce it after we've made it official." She throws a finger Piers' way. "I suppose Mr. Clancy over here spilled this secret before we had a chance to make a decision."

Piers looks away, a smile creeping onto his face. Oops, he mouths.

"Have you made it official yet?" I ask.

"Almost."

"Almost?"

Janelle nods.

I'm afraid and excited at the same time. I mean, who knows what's out there. There can't possibly be monsters.

Right?

Chapter twenty-one

V I V I A N

Click, clack. Click, clack. Click, clack.

I listen to the echo of our footsteps on the floor tiles.

We're in a very narrow hallway, heading closer to the door in front of us.

Mr. Welds is leading the way while Fox walks behind him. Rian is right behind Fox, while I'm trailing after Rian. Russell Welds, Mr. Welds' brother follows after me.

It's like we're in a Welds sandwich. The two Welds brothers are the bread while Fox, Rian, and I are the rest of the ingredients.

I slap my face once, trying to wake myself up. Now I'm thinking strange thoughts. Are these symptoms of craziness—?

This is the day. The day of the mission. And the launch date was scheduled a day earlier than it was originally planned.

We are being escorted to our suits.

My heart is pounding so fast. This entire walk, my hands have been clenched into fists. I'm afraid if I relax, I will not be able to unbend my fingers.

Am I the only one freaking out?

We finally reach the door. Before Mr. Welds turns the knob, he gives us a small smile. I wonder how he feels about sending us to our death. I know it's about time I admitted this. We might not be coming back here again.

Mr. Welds pulls the door open, leading all of us through the doorway. My eyes immediately land on the switches and machinery planted around the room. Green and red lights flash on a few of them, and I can't help but wonder what all this could possibly mean.

About a dozen people in white uniforms stand inside. Some fiddle with machines, while others watch us. Two start applauding, big smiles on their faces.

I don't need to be applauded.

Once Mr. Welds' brother steps into the room after me, the door is closed behind him.

The room's walls aren't white. They seem to be made of some sort of gray metal. It's a lot colder in here and I swear I can actually see clouds of breath escaping people's noses and mouths.

Hanging up against the wall are our brown suits. They look strange when they're not in containers.

Fox walks up to his suit and runs a hand over the material. It makes an odd vvvp sound.

"We're putting these on." He seems to be talking to himself, but it's loud enough for us to hear.

Soft laughter starts in the room as we watch Fox admire his suit. He pulls his hand away and frowns, "Dude," he replies, "I just wanted to feel the suit."

Mr. Welds clears his throat. "People are observing us through cameras in the room."

I look up at the ceiling, trying to inspect the corners. There aren't any obvious cameras visible. Is Piers watching this?

"Are you ready to put your suits on?" a woman in the room asks.

Fox rubs his hands together. "Yeah, of course. I'm ready to save the world."

"You're not actually saving the world," another man in the room says. "We're not even sure if the machine works or not."

We're not even sure if the hearts work or not. This guy is really unsure about this. The others are too, I'm guessing.

"Speaking of which," Fox says. "Where exactly is this so-called machine?" He looks around the room, waiting for someone's answer.

"Aha!" a bald-headed man suddenly says, clapping his hands together. The whole room's attention turns to him simultaneously. "The machine—" he walks up to a wall and taps on it twice "—is in here."

The wall slides open to reveal a tiny room, appearing barely big enough for me to fit in. Inside rests a large and basic metal cube. I don't see any complicated wires sticking out of it; neither do I see anything else on its surface. It's just a gray cube.

"That's the machine?" Rian says. "It looks very...plain."

The man responsible for opening the wall claps his hands again. "The more unsophisticated its features are, the less frustrated you will become."

"And how are we supposed to carry it?" Fox asks.

The man looks over at the people around him, probably hoping someone will answer for him. But no one wants to say anything so he decides to answer himself. Once he pulls the machine out from its resting place, he rotates it around.

I spot wheels under the cube. It should be easier to drag the object around because of them.

"Now," the man continues, "you'll have to insert the chip in here." He taps a finger at the top of the cube, where I see a small slit.

How big will this chip be exactly? They haven't showed it to us yet.

"Once you insert the chip," the man continues, "it'll let you have access to a keyboard. You'll have to type a code in. We'll give you the code through a radio so that way you wouldn't need to memorize it right now. Any questions?"

"We'll be talking to you through a radio?" Fox asks.

The man nods. "Anymore questions?" He's talking to me and Rian. We haven't said much.

I shake my head. I do have questions, but I just don't think they will be able to answer them. For instance: Are you sure this will work?

Mr. Welds sighs, clasping his hands in front of him."Shall we start with the suits now?"

"Yeah," Fox says, pulling his suit down from the wall without asking for permission.

Rian and I get our suits too. But when I take mine, I almost collapse onto the floor, not expecting the suit to be this heavy. Clearing my throat and hoping my stumble wasn't that noticeable, I hold the suit at arms length and scan it with my eyes.

It's made of a tan-colored material. The number 42-2 is still written across the front. I tap the glass where the face is supposed to be, remembering what Mr. Welds said about this being self-healing glass. It's thin, but seems sturdy enough.

My fingers fumble to get a good grip on the suit as I flip it to examine its back. There's a zipper reaching from the head and leading all the way down the spine.

Rian and Fox are studying their own suits too. The only thing I can hear in the room is the rustling of the suits.

A woman helps me with my suit. It just goes over my regular clothing. Once it has been slipped on, she ties a few straps, seals a layer of cloth, and zips up the back.

I start trembling once I finish putting the suit on. But I can't decide why I'm acting this way. Is it the cold material of the suit, the excitement in my stomach, or the fear of heading outside?

My head is completely surrounded by the suit's head cover. As I breathe in and out, the pane of glass in front of my face fogs up. The sound of my breathing bounces off the small space around me, hitting my ears and lingering with a ring.

An itch starts in my legs, and I'm tempted to get rid of it. But I only pat my torso, just trying to get myself comfortable in this heavy suit.

Then I notice the pocket. I slide my hand inside it only to find nothing. I shiver as the thought of where we are going enters my mind. I keep forgetting about the mission, and then I keep remembering it.

Rian and Fox are standing in their suits as well. Fox shifts his feet, pulling on the sleeves of his suit awkwardly.

A male voice starts talking somewhere in the room. The thick helmet of my suit blocks out a lot of the noise, so I almost miss the words.

"We've inserted communication radios inside the suits. They should be activated right about...now."

I turn around, trying to locate the source of the sound. But the unknown man stops talking, and the owner of the voice remains a mystery.

There's a small beep, followed by a soft static noise in my ear.

"Well." It's Fox's voice from the unseen radio inside my suit. "This is interesting."

Then there's Mr. Welds' voice. "Yes, it is quite interesting. Ms. Clancy, how are you in there?"

I spin around, trying to find Mr. Welds. When I spot him, I see he's speaking into a small object around his wrist.

Then remembering he just asked me a question, I answer with, "It's not the most comfortable thing ever."

"We apologize for that. You'll get used to it," Mr. Welds says. "Mr. Callum, how are you feeling?"

Rian's reply comes from the radio in my suit too. "I agree with Vivian."

"Mr. Manson, how about you?"

"Great," Fox says. He looks down at himself, seeming to notice the pockets at his side. He pats them in silence.

Mr. Welds exchanges a glance with his brother Welds. "Are they ready to go?" he asks.

Welds nods, saying, "Before we send you out, let's review the plan. You'll walk out through an elevator. The GPS, the machine, and the chip will all be with you. Got that? The mission should take about an estimated time of an hour and a half. Possibly two. Just make you don't drag the mission out too much, all right? There is only a limited time you have available. The GPS is there to help you get around. You won't see anything around you because of the mist, so be careful. We will be tracking your location every step of the way."

A man steps forward, pulling something out of his pocket. He tells me to stretch my hand out and I do. With a swift gesture, he drops a small object into my hand and backs away toward the computers in the room.

No one tells us what to do if we lose the chip. Will we be able to come back and get a new one?

I look down at the open palm of my hand, studying the small green chip that lays there. I slip it into the pocket of my suit and look around at the others.

"Are you ready?" Mr. Welds asks through the radio.

I nod. Rian and Fox agree with me.

What if we aren't ready? Will these people wait for us to catch our breath? Or did they wait long enough already?

A woman presses the palm of her hand against a wall and just like earlier with another wall, this one slides open, revealing a space big enough to fit approximately ten people inside. The inside walls are white and bright.

It's an elevator. The woman gestures for us to step inside. We do, and two people push the cube-shaped machine into the elevator behind us.

Rian holds the GPS, I hold the chip, and Fox has his hands on the machine.

"You'll get to an airlock," Mr. Welds says quickly. "Then we'll open the door. Good luck."

He waves a hand just as soon as the elevator doors start to close. My lungs seem to shrink at the same time, but I force my fear down. Rian, Fox, the large cube-shaped machine, and I are the only ones in elevator.

It lurches upward, and that's when my legs start to tremble.

"You okay, guys?" Rian voices says from the radio.

I shake my hands a little. "Nervous," I say.

"Just relax and it should all be good," Rian says. There's silence for a few seconds. Then he adds, "I'm nervous too."

"We all are," Fox says.

The elevator stops. We wait.

A static-filled version of Mr. Welds' voice enters my ears. "A hallway is in front of you. Go straight until you reach a door. We've already opened it for you."

With a hiss, the elevator doors slide apart. Fox is the first one to move, then Rian.

I am the last. My entire body is shaking and I can't force it to stop.

"Come on," Fox says as he starts pushing the large cube out of the elevator. Just like Mr. Welds said, we are now in a hallway. We pass through an open doorway, then reach a dead end.

A round, metal door stands in front of us this time, and I can't help but wonder what might be on the other side.

Mr. Welds' voice comes from the radio again. "Airlock."

Behind us, the door that used to be open fully starts to slide shut. With a loud thud, it closes any space that was left of the open doorway. Then there's silence as we stand in the now dark room.

Buzz.

I jump at the deafening sound, looking around for where it might have come from. These people built this room and this door and this elevator and this hallway and—

This needs to stop immediately. I have to concentrate on the current goal.

The metal door in front of us starts to open. I clench my fingers, pulling in as many steady breaths as I can get. I don't know if I'm imagining it, but I think the temperature's dropping.

And my heart is pounding.

Beep.

The round door has completely opened up, revealing what is in front of us.

I gasp at what I see.

The outside.

Chapter twenty-two

V I V I A N

We can't see anything ten feet in front of us.

Welds calls it mist. I call it dust.

"Should we hold hands?" Fox asks, a smirk in his voice. His attempt at improving the mood is not working, at least not for me.

"Stay close to each other," an unfamiliar voice says from my radio.

Fox clears his throat and starts forward, pushing the cube with him.

His feet touch the earth's ground.

I brace myself, anticipating him to fall through the floor, or even to collapse on the ground in a pile of ashes. But he remains standing, his head turning to look at us.

The wheels underneath the machine slide across the dirt easier than expected. The dirt must be completely solid.

Rian walks out before I do. He seems okay too.

Now it's my turn. I take a step forward, then another, then another, and one more.

Thud.

My foot touches the dirt and the dead grass attached to it. I can feel the sharp form of the grass through my shoe. It's frozen solid.

A small shrub is close enough to be visible through the floating dust. I don't want to wander far from Rian and Fox.

Slowly, I set my foot down on the small shrub, curious to see how hard it is. Frozen solid, just like the thin blades of grass surrounding it.

Everything is completely still. The dust. The wind.

Rian's voice comes from the radio as he walks up to stand beside me. "We're still alive. The hearts work, then?"

Or maybe the air is not dangerous at all. Maybe everything that was recorded about the air will not harm a single human being.

All three of us look around. There isn't much to look at, but I want to get as much of this in my head as I can.

A tingling starts in the area around my fingernails. The feeling moves up my hands until it reaches both of my arms.

I shake it away, sure that this feeling is just my nerves. Nothing I should worry myself with.

Rian pulls the GPS out of his pocket and lifts it to his face to read the screen. He points forward. "It's telling us to go that way."

Mr. Welds' voice suddenly sounds in my ear. "You're all still alive, right? You're okay?"

All three of us answer at the same time. "Yes."

"Just follow your path." This is someone else's voice.

And we do, slowly at first. Then our pace speeds up. Fox continues to push the machine with him.

The next time Mr. Welds' speaks up, his voice shakes. "Okay." He breathes out. "You're all still alive. Just continue moving toward the proper location. Everyone's still all right?"

Rian and Fox both say yes. But I change my answer, thinking that what I'm feeling is no big deal while at the same time wondering if something is wrong. "I'm a little cold," I say.

But I know a little isn't the right word. My hands are already turning stiff. My feet feel soaked when I know I have not stepped in any water recently. There is no water here.

Rian looks at me. "You're cold?" his voice says from the radio. "I feel fine."

"Same with me. Could be your nerves, Vivian," Fox says. "You're not feeling dizzy or anything?"

"No." Maybe I'm just overreacting. I look down at my hands, trying to clench my frozen fingers. They barely move. I shudder.

Mr. Welds finally says, "Our screen reads that nothing is wrong."

Then it might be from the nerves.

"Won't the machine freeze?" Fox asks. He stops, helps the machine's wheels battle a frozen shrub, then starts forward again.

We have not walked far; however, I can't help but wonder if this dust ever spreads out the farther we go.

"No," a female voice says, replying to Fox's question. "It's been designed to withstand freezing temperatures, just like your hearts are supposed to keep your human body powered up. The heart is programmed with a shield that helps it fight the cold. As we speak, the shield of the heart is going down. Each of you only have one. We cannot recharge it while you're out there."

Rian is in front of us with the GPS. Fox does not abandon the machine. I pat my pocket, trying to make sure the green chip is still in there. But I have no idea if it is or not, because my hand is almost numb. Although there is barely any pain running across it.

The amount of dead small shrubs increase as we head deeper into the dust. White frost is starting to line the solid grass.

The material around my arms and hands are starting to receive frost. Even Rian's and Fox's backs have the white flakes gathering together.

No one else speaks into the radio to check up on us as we walk.

My teeth chatter, but I try to keep them as still as possible. Fox and Rian seem more than fine. Why am like this?

The frost on the panel of glass covering my face is starting to accumulate. I reach a hand to wipe it.

"Oh, watch out." Rian steps to the side abruptly and I can see why.

Right in front of him, appearing like it's stationary in the air, is an uneven but small chunk of ice.

"What is that?" Fox asks, noticing it too. He lets go of the cube for the first time since we got here and brings a finger to the small chunk of ice. He pokes it, but it doesn't fall.

"Uh, Jack?" Fox asks through the radio.

Mr. Welds' voice speaks up moments later. "Is there a problem?"

Fox nods, but it's not like Mr. Welds can see him. "There's a floating ice cube here. Not sure if that means anything?"

Mr. Welds clears his throat. "Pardon? Floating ice cube?"

"Yeah." Fox pokes it again, and just like last time, it remains in the air. "It's floating."

I squint ahead of me, trying to see if I can locate another one.

And I can. It's almost invisible, but I can see it through the stationary dust particles. I bring my foot forward and nearly stumble. No one seems to notice.

My toes are starting to turn numb. If this keeps up, I don't think I'll be able to take anymore steps.

"T-there's," I start, my voice trembling. "A-another one in front of us."

Fox glances at my pointing finger. He grabs the cube-shaped machine and steers it in the direction I'm pointing.

"All right, hold on..." He trails off when he reaches the other floating small chunk of ice. "Yep, it's another one. What if we keep going? There might be more. Come on."

Fox's stride is faster now, almost as if he's excited to see where this will take us.

"Jeez, this is surreal," I hear him mutter. "There are more here."

Sure enough, as Rian and I catch up to Fox, we see that ahead us, the small chunks of ice are here too. And there are more of them.

"Keep going and watch out," Fox warns us.

We continue moving. I step to the side, duck, turn sideways, to avoid the chunks of ice. Fox is right. This is bizarre.

Fox tries to push another chunk of ice to clear the air, but it refuses to move. Even Mr. Welds doesn't know what's going on. His explanation is because of the low temperature and the chemicals mixed in with the air around us. Both of those have been combined to form this.

Enlarged particles of air that defy the laws of gravity.

"How much longer?" Fox asks, grunting with every push of the machine.

We're moving slower than when we started.

"It doesn't say the distance," Rian answers, eyes on the GPS's screen.

A voice that sounds like Mr. Welds' says from the radio, "Vivian, your heart shield just decreased by fifteen percent."

I concentrate on speaking as well as walking. My frozen chin has trouble moving up and down as I try to say, "W-what's...?" I let out a large breath of air, fogging up the glass in my face.

Will I ever run out of oxygen—?

My foot catches a frozen root of a tree I cannot see. I stumble, hands stretched out in front of me. A sharp pang of cold strikes through my chest and I fall to one knee, grunting. With a frozen hand over my chest, I cough.

Fox and Rian notice what happens to me immediately.

"What's going on?" Rian asks right around the same time Fox manages to say, "You okay?"

Mr. Welds' voice sounds hurried as he says his next words. "Vivian, your percentage just dropped by twenty. Something is not right."

I cringe and clench my hands into fists as another wave of cold blasts through my chest.

Rian looks down at the screen of his GPS and whispers, "I have an exact distance now. Seventy-five yards. We're almost there." He steps up beside me and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me to my feet.

Fox runs forward, dragging the machine with him. "We're almost there," he echoes Rian. "We can make it. Come on! Hang in there, Clancy."

I stumble forward and nearly collapse. Rian's grip on me tightens. He grabs my arm and rights me. "What are you feeling like?"

"C-cold." I inch forward, trying to walk in the direction Fox is heading.

"Vivian," Mr. Welds' voice says. "Percent decreased by five."

The shield is decreasing quickly. Like Mr. Welds said before, the shield is assisting my mechanical heart. It's keeping alive in this cold weather. But something seems to be wrong. It's not working properly. This isn't what they were planning. What happens if the shield reaches zero? What then?

This is expected to happen, isn't it? This is what I thought would happen to me. I'll die right here. Right where I am now.

Mr. Welds' voice says, "Stop. This is obviously a disaster. I suggest you head back."

Another voice fills my ear. "No!" It's not familiar but it's low. "They've gotten this far! They can't stop now."

A woman's voice argues. "But she's dying. Look at her percentage!"

What's my percentage? My lips move but no sound comes out. I close my eyes briefly. When I open them, I swallow and try again. "W-what's m-my p-p-percent...?"

"Fifty-four. It started with seventy-nine," another woman's voice says. "Return back to the complex. Fox and Rian stay."

"She won't be able to make it on her own!" Another voice yells. "Fox's percent is fine. It's an eighty-four. That more than enough. Rian's is dropping as well, but at a safe rate. Eighty-two percent right now."

My head spins from all of these voices.

Rian and I both remember Fox right around the same time. We look up, only to see Fox isn't anywhere near us. He has disappeared in the mist.

"Fox!" Rian calls.

Moments later, Fox's radio voice answers. "I'm here."

"Why did you—" Rian starts.

Mr. Welds voice interrupts from the radio. "Fox, you're too far from them. You won't be able to accomplish anything without the chip!"

"Rian, Vivian! Head back, now!" A male voice commands from the radio. "Her percent is dropping! 43...42...41. I repeat, head back!"

Good idea. But...I can't move.

My legs finally give out and I go limp, slipping from Rian's grasp. I can't feel my hands. I can't feel my face. I can't feel my legs.

I can't feel anything.

My skin stings.

I can't do this...no...

It's so hard to keep my eyes open. Everything is so blurry.

The glass in front of my face has fogged up from my ragged breathing. Or maybe it's the frost that has piled up. The whole world is spinning and I have no idea where I am right now. I think Rian is trying to wipe my glass.

The voices in the radio are not very clear anymore. Whatever they are saying doesn't make sense to me. I hear, "Save...back up...no...die."

Oh. They want me to die?

My head is spinning and I can't feel anything anymore.

I am only a floating head.

Sirens are going off inside my head. There is a hard pounding starts in my chest, burning me alive.

I can see dark walls closing in on me.

Beep, beep, beep.

I don't want to die.

But...I can't help it. I can't fight it.

There's a dark shadow reaching for me.

Chapter twenty-three

R I A N

Vivian goes slack in my arms, and all I do is stay crouched in my current position. The orders and gibberish words are screaming through the communication radio. They are so loud that I can't pick out one sentence from the next.

I am dreading the answer to this question: Is Vivian dead? I don't know. The only thing I can do is take her hand and squeeze it.

A layer of ice has formed on the outside panel of the glass shielding her face. I try to wipe it away, but it has already formed into something hard.

There are no visible cracks on the glass, so I don't instantly think the cold seeping in through the glass is responsible for doing this to her. Why did this happen to her?

Fox needs the chip, but I don't want to leave Vivian's side to bring it to him. But what can I do for her since I am staying by her side? Nothing.

The indistinguishable voices yelling from the radio stop as soon as Jack Welds' voice yells out. "Enough! Fox, you're almost there, but you can't accomplish anything without the chip."

From the radio, Fox sounds out of breath as he says, "There! I see it. I see the deposit spot." He lets out a laugh and continues, "Man, I thought...wait...how's Vivian?"

I shut my eyes. My voice cracks as I say, "S-she's collapsed. She's unconscious. I don't know how long she'll hold out."

There are a few seconds of silence and a few grunts from Fox. Then he says, "Okay...the machine is in place. I need the chip."

I take a look at the screen of the GPS. There is a green dot marking Fox right next to the destination point. He's made it.

"I need the chip, Rian." Fox's voice is desperate and loud. He starts breathing heavily, as if he's running. "I'm coming to get it from you."

A few more voices say something from the radio, but I have long since drowned them out. They are distant so I don't think they are talking to us. I drop the GPS onto the dirt and start searching Vivian's suit pockets for the chip. When I find it, I pull it out and bring it as close to my face as I can without touching the glass covering in front of me.

Vivian stays limp and unconscious, but her chest is still rising and falling. I search for her heartbeat and find it, relieved. It's beating faster than normal, and I'm not sure if that's a good thing.

A hand clamps down on my shoulder and I snap my head back to find Fox standing there in his large suit, breathing heavily from the run.

"Dude," he says quickly, holding a hand out. "Give me the chip. You stay with Vivian. I'm almost done." As soon as the chip leaves my hand and lands in his palm, Fox breaks into a run back in the direction where he had just come from. "I'll help you carry her back when I finish," his voice breathes out tiredly from the radio.

My uncomfortable and stiff suit prevents me from carrying anything large in my arms, so Fox's help would be appreciated.

"Rian, she's at twenty-three percent," a voice from my radio tells me. "It's continuing to fall."

"Can't you increase the shield?" I almost yell. "Or increase whatever is holding this stupid heart together?" I don't want to call Vivian's heart stupid because this is the very thing that is keeping her alive. It's Rob who I'm going to call stupid. Didn't he say he designed this heart?

Well, it failed. Vivian is slowly freezing to death while...while I'm doing nothing. God, I'm doing nothing. What is there I can do?

"Got the keyboard," Fox's voice yells out. "What's the code?"

Four voices start talking at the same time, but I do not understand a word they say. "Fox code Rian your...a27b...percent...58...82...a578...code...move."

"Whoa!" Fox exclaims. "Slow down. One at a time."

A voice quickly replies, "Rian your battery is at seventy-eight. Fox, yours is at eighty-two."

Then, it's silent except for the sound of breathing.

"The code!" Fox suddenly yells. "I need the code!"

"Oh, oh, oh...okay!" Jack's voice says hastily. "You there, he needs the code again."

"Jeez," Fox mutters. "This is really disorganized."

"We've gotten this far haven't we?" Janelle's voice startles me. When did she arrive? Her voice is calm and steady as she says over the radio, "The code is 9a—type this in, Fox—27b..."

She pauses every three or four letters and numbers to make sure Fox gets it. Once they both finish, Fox yells, "It's loading! I'm done!"

"Not yet." Janelle's voice is still calm. "Once it's loaded, you' will have to find a small button on the side. Press it. The machine should activate."

Fox grunts. "Alright. Hold on, it's gonna take me a while to find—oh, wait...here it is. Don't press it 'til it has loaded, right?" He lets out an unexpected and amused laugh, seeming to have forgotten the seriousness of the situation. "Look, about this thing. I might have had hope once, but now that I'm taking a look at this cube, I can't imagine it having any potential whatsoever. Face it. It's a failure, just like Vivian's heart. She's dead meat. Sorry, Rian."

My grip on Vivian's hand tightens and I want to yell out, "What is wrong with you?" But I stay quiet.

I'm expecting Jack's voice to shoot some comment back, but I hear a different voice instead. I don't know who it belongs to. "We still have time to save her."

"It's done loading," Fox says quietly through the radio.

Several voices yell out from the radio, "Then press the button!"

"Press it, Fox," Jack's clear voice says. "Do it."

Fox scoffs. "How do you know I didn't press the button yet?"

"The machine hasn't activated on our screen."

The sooner we get this done, the better. Why is Fox stalling?

"Just activate the machine, Fox," I say loudly.

Silence. Then a slow, "Done. I'm walking over to you."

I snatch the GPS from the ground and stuff it into my pocket. "Damn it, Fox. Just hurry."

"Fox," Janelle's voice says. "Vivian's not dead yet. You can still make it back."

Not dead yet?

I feel Vivian's heartbeat again, and this time, the beating has slowed down. Is that a good thing?

In minutes, Fox appears out of the fog. He jogs over to me and the unconscious Vivian at my side. "Come on," he says.

I jump to my feet and wrap Vivian's limp arm around my neck while Fox does the same thing on Vivian's other side. We pull her to her feet and drag her forward.

She lets out a soft groan, but I'm not sure if I imagined it. She's still alive?

Fox catches the hesitation in my walk so he says, "Whoa. Move along now. I heard it too."

So I hadn't imagined it.

Welds' voice says, "Her percentage just increased. It's at thirty-four. Keep moving."

Vivian's arm lifts from my neck but drops down again. She lets out another groan and her feet take a few steps forward, only to go limp again. My grip on her tightens, and Fox and I continue dragging her along.

"Increasing," someone says. "Keep going."

At least it's not dropping anymore.

"How long have we been out here?" Fox says with a few gulps of air. I can't imagine how tired he must feel right now. He had to run with that machine, run back to us, run back to that machine, and now he's helping me carry Vivian.

"Thirty-nine percent for Vivian. Move. You can make it."

I struggle to pull the GPS out of my pocket to try to get a glimpse of the screen. Are we going the right way? The GPS has marked the location back to the building. We are heading the right way.

"How long have we been out here?" Fox asks again.

"Forty-five minutes."

"Damn," Fox whispers. "The way back should take us thirty."

It does not feel like I've been here for forty-five minutes. It seems shorter.

Vivian mutters something, but it's incoherent. A wave of happiness washes over me. She still alive and her heart percentage is rising. Maybe the heart isn't a failure after all.

Her next words are clearer. "Waz going on...?"

I hold my smile in. This isn't the time for smiling. Just because she's waking up doesn't necessarily mean she's going to live. There's still a chance her heart could give up on her.

Fox and I continue to pull Vivian with us. She doesn't wake up again, which rises fear in me.

"Shield decreasing quite rapidly again," a woman's voice says. "Hurry. You're close."

It's decreasing? I'm right. I shouldn't bring my hopes up.

"How close?" Fox asks. "I need the distance."

I know I can't answer that. The GPS doesn't tell me.

But there's an answer from the radio. "One hundred seventy yards."

They think this is close?

Fox sighs, saying, "Keep walking."

That's what I'm doing. Vivian feels like she's getting heavier and heavier as we move. A few voices continue to talk to us but I don't have the energy to answer. And just when I'm about to collapse, the small building we had come out of a couple of hours ago appears out of the fog. I let out a sigh of relief, trying to push myself to keep going. We've almost made it, but no one is telling us Vivian's heart percentage.

As soon as we walk through the metal doors we came out of, Fox collapses from exhaustion, bringing Vivian down to the ground with him. I nearly trip over from the sudden movement, but I use the wall to right myself and try to pull Vivian into a more comfortable position.

Fox is face down on the ground, his hands over his head. He's mumbling something into the ground that I can't hear.

"Oh, my god," a female voice exclaims from the radio in my ear. "That actually worked! They're alive! The machine is in place! Prepare the activation!"

Another voice, calmer. "Airlock."

Fox grunts as the airlock doors begin to slide shut behind him. A loud buzz sounds and we stand in silence.

Then a voice. "Stand by for decontamination."

Something clicks above us and I try to look up, but my stiff suit does not let me. There's a slight pull, but it's weak enough not to pull me up to the ceiling.

A man's voice sounds from the radio. "We added an extra feature to the suits. They are made with a special material where not many toxic gases can attach to it, but the decontamination process is still needed." He pauses. A few voices mutter something, and the same man continues. "After you come here, we will have to pull the suits off immediately and store them away."

~~~

The elevator door in front of us slides open. Fox and I gently drag Vivian through, setting her down onto the ground. The door slide shut and the elevator jolts upward, causing my stomach to flip. I've never been a fan of elevators.

When the elevator stops, the doors open again, revealing the same room with the many computers and the group of people. Most of them are gathered in the corner farthest from us. Only three people dare to get close, but they wear orange hazmat suits.

One of them gestures us out of the elevator and we move out, pulling Vivian along with us as well. We lay her down onto the ground and a voice from the radio instructs us, "Step away from her. We'll get her suit off and she'll be sent to be checked."

Checked? "Is she going to die?" I ask.

The dozen people gathered in the corner of the room watch us. One checks something on his wrist and calls out, "Her shield percentage seems to have frozen at twenty. It's not changing."

"Is she going to die?" I repeat.

One out of the three orange-suited people say, "It's not certain yet. They have to know what happened before any of us know that."

"Are you going to fix whatever is wrong with her?" I ask, watching as one of them flips Vivian over on her back. Her suit comes off and she's back in her regular white outfit. But she'll still unconscious.

Nobody answers me, so I keep quiet as they help me with my suit. Once all of the suits are off, they are locked into a container and steered toward another open piece of the wall where a room is revealed.

I'm standing in my regular jeans and t-shirt, feeling lighter. Someone hands me a lab coat and I pull it on, watching as two people carry Vivian out of the room on a stretcher.

"Is she going to be okay?" I ask Russell Welds, who's standing right beside me. Am I the only one who's concerned about her? I have to see if she's okay.

I gesture to the door Vivian has just been carried through. "Could I possibly go with them?"

Russell waves a hand around and mutters, "Your choice." He continues examining something on one of the computers in the room. "She'll be fine," he adds.

I push past a couple of people and head for the door. Fox attempts to high-five me, but I ignore him.

Both of us are alive. So what?

I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad to be alive. But Vivian's the one in trouble.

Chapter twenty-four

R I A N

I catch up to the two people carrying Vivian on a stretcher, but choose to stay behind them.

They turn their heads, noticing another presence here with them. They stop walking, but their hands continue to hold the stretcher. One of them says, "Do you need anything?"

I scratch my head, then I take a deep breath and point to Vivian's unconscious body. "What are you going to do to her?"

The two men exchange glances and one answers with a shrug, "We were told to bring her into the containment chamber."

The containment chamber? That's where they store everyone who hasn't thawed yet. They store those who are dead. Vivian is not dead.

"What?" I whisper. "The containment chamber?"

Both of the men start walking again. "You heard us," one calls over his shoulder.

I walk after them, saying, "Why there?"

"Orders are orders, Callum," the other man grunts. "We follow them."

He knows my name even though I have never seen him here before. "What are they going to do to her?"

I don't want to ask them if she's dead or not. I'm afraid of the answer. Russell told me she'll be fine. But is that true?

Both of the men stop walking again and the larger of the two turns slightly toward me, still keeping a firm grip on the stretcher. I glance at Vivian, then up at the large man. He says, "Do you want to argue, Callum? When I said orders were orders, I meant you're not supposed to question them."

I take a step back, letting him know I want to avoid the argument he seems to want to get into. He lets out a sinister chuckle, trying to frighten me, I'm guessing. It doesn't work.

"Who gave you the order to bring her there?" I ask.

"Jack," both of them answer simultaneously.

What? That can't be right. Vivian's not dead. She can't be. She was alive several minutes ago.

"What's going on?" I ask.

One of them shakes his head, and they both continue moving forward without answering my question. I want to block their way until they tell me what's going on but who knows what they would do after that. Punch me?

"Guys, listen," I say in the most polite tone of voice I could muster. "Where are you taking her?"

"Move along, Callum," one of them says. "I'm assuming you have other things to do."

This is getting on my nerves. I squeeze past them quickly and stop in the middle of the narrow hallway, right in their path. "No," I say. "Tell me why you're taking her to the containment chamber. She's still alive. You don't need to store her anywhere."

They don't hesitate like I'm expecting them to. They just say it like it's no big deal. There's no sadness in their voice, no sympathy. It's just dull.

"She's dead, Callum. Her heart percentage reached below five and no one can save her. We're throwing her out."

I freeze and stare at him, not able to believe this. My gaze shifts over to Vivian and words start to stutter out of my mouth. "W-what?" My gaze does not leave Vivian's limp form.

The two men start moving with the stretcher again, muttering something I cannot hear. I'm frozen in place, watching as they walk farther down the hall.

Chapter twenty-five

V I V I A N

It's dark.

Am I blind? No. I don't think so.

I force my eyes to open and they immediately start to sting. White has replaced the darkness and I'm sure I'm not blind. I just need to adjust my eyes.

I shut them and wait, taking small breaths. The air feels thin and cold around me. Walls are closely surrounding me on all sides. I can feel them but I can't see them. I'm standing with my back pressed against something hard. Straps wind around my hands, keeping me fixed to the wall.

Very slowly, I open my eyes again. There is one window in front of me. Wait, wait, wait...a window? The building has no windows...

No.

I yank my hands forward, but remember the straps holding my arms in place. They aren't even on that tight, so I can slip my hands out of them. There's a strap around my waist too, but it's on tighter. I yank on its plastic latch, pulling the straps apart. I fall forward, but the close wall in front of me stops my fall. I realize I'm in a solid container.

The container is white. All four walls are just close enough together to let me fit.

What exactly is this?

The small, round window in front of me is completely covered in frost, preventing me from seeing anything past it. I give a pathetic kick at the wall in front of me, but nothing happens. I use my fist to bash at the wall. Where's the door?

"Hey!" My voice cracks and I swallow. "Hey!" I repeat again, louder this time. "Get me out of here! I'm still alive!"

I have not been buried alive. I force myself to think those six words, whether they are true or not. I have not been buried alive.

I can't breathe anymore. My lungs shrink and I wheeze.

"Let. Me. Out!" Every word is a sob. This can't be happening.

I have not been thrown out.

END OF BOOK ONE
