Graduation Day
Page 43
Smoke rises from the crack at the bottom of my door. The small piece of paper I used to warn me of another’s entrance lies on the floor. The lock is engaged, and I fumble with the key until it slides home and the knob turns. Smoke pours into the hallway. I cough as I step into the room. Through the smoke, I spot the outline of someone writhing on the floor of my bedroom as his clothing is eaten by flames.
I drop my bag onto the floor and hurry to see if I can help Griffin. Because it has to be him. He’s the one who has been following me. Who hates me. Who was enlisted by Professor Holt to find a reason to remove me from this school. I yank blankets off my bed and throw them on top of the whimpering form to smother the flames and realize the body beneath the covers is too small to belong to Griffin. And the voice that screams for help . . .
I pull the blanket away and see dark hair that has been burned away at the front of the scalp. A hand blistered by the explosion reaches out to me as I look into eyes glazed with pain and whisper, “Enzo.”
Chapter 12
CONFUSION. SORROW. ANGUISH. Tears fill my eyes as I run to the bathroom and douse a towel in water. Enzo broke into my room. He went through my things and failed the test that was intended for Raffe. After our Induction experience and the way he tried to protect me after Damone’s death, I don’t understand how this could be. Placing the cool, wet fabric on his angry, red-looking arms, I want to ask why, but the pain on his face and the way his body begins to shake make that question fade. All I want to do is stop the pain. To turn back time so I can dismantle my test before Enzo can find it.
“Cia.” His voice is barely audible through clenched teeth. “I’m sorry. I thought . . . Stacia said . . .” He coughs, takes a shallow breath.
Stacia. Did she think I was taking too long to make a choice? Did she decide this should be Enzo’s test, or is this her way of drawing attention to me so that my plan to help the president—our plan to end The Testing—will fail?
“It’s going to be okay,” I say, because he needs to hear the words and I want to believe them. But it isn’t. Because here he is, burned. Maybe dying.
I dig through my bag for the ointment I have been using on my leg. It won’t be enough to heal these kinds of wounds, but it might make them more bearable. Once I find the small tube, I have no idea where to begin. There are red blotchy patches on his face, arms, and hands. Other burns can be seen through the holes singed into his shirt and pants. There is a charred black area on his cheek that looks as if the skin has been seared beyond repair, and the tissue around his eyes has already begun to swell, making his eyes look small and incredibly vulnerable. The bomb I built did what it was designed to do. Stacia drove Enzo here, but I am to blame for this.
A pulsing, high-pitched sound makes me jump. Someone has activated the residence’s emergency siren.
“Cia, help is coming.” A hand digs into my shoulder and shakes me. “Cia. Do you hear me?”
I look up through my tears to see Raffe’s face looking down. “I’ve put out the rest of the flames and have told everyone coming up the stairs to go outside, but that siren means officials are going to arrive soon. They’re going to come here to your rooms and see what’s happened. Do you understand what this means?”
“It means they’ll help Enzo.” I feel a moment’s relief and then realize that I’m wrong. Raffe isn’t telling me that Enzo will get medical attention. His words are a warning. University officials will be here soon. They will ask questions about what happened and why I created a device that caused this kind of injury. Enzo broke into my room, but I am the one who will pay the price if I don’t leave.
“I have to go,” I say.
It takes two tries to rise to my feet. Raffe moves to help me but I shake off his hands. I walk to my wardrobe, grab my extra boots and another change of clothes to add to the one already in my bag. I pull my jacket on to protect me from the rain. Then I look around rooms that still contain a haze of smoke. Books. Papers. Writing utensils. Many items have been burned, but some were untouched by the flames. They are what have defined me and my goals for most of my life. There is no way to carry more than the paper and pencils I already have stored in my bag, and even if I could, I will have no use for anything else now. Today I am being forced to leave behind the books and the knowledge they contain. From now on, I must have faith that I have learned the lessons I need to take the next step.
“What happened in here?” Ian yells from the doorway.
I have no answer to give, but I’m thankful Raffe does. Over the shrill siren he yells back, “Enzo broke into Cia’s room. He must have been trying to set some kind of trap. It backfired. We figured it would be best if we got out of the way. Right, Cia?”
Ian looks to where Enzo lies shaking on the floor. Then back at me. For a moment he seems conflicted. Then he slides his hand into his coat pocket. When he removes it, a gun is wrapped in his hand.
Enzo moans on the floor. Officials must be arriving now. My time to flee is running out. I need Ian to let me go.
“I know you’re one of the rebels,” I say. “The one Michal told me would keep me safe.”
“Michal would understand. The rebellion has to come first.”
“Michal can’t understand, because he’s dead,” I scream. I think about the listening device behind the wardrobe and lower my voice as much as I can while still allowing myself to be heard. With the emergency sirens blaring and officials on their way, I doubt anyone is listening to what is happening in here now, but I don’t want to reveal more to those who are spying on me than I have to. Lightning flashes in the window. “Symon killed him when Michal gave him proof the president could use to end The Testing. I know, because I was there.”
I drop my bag onto the floor and hurry to see if I can help Griffin. Because it has to be him. He’s the one who has been following me. Who hates me. Who was enlisted by Professor Holt to find a reason to remove me from this school. I yank blankets off my bed and throw them on top of the whimpering form to smother the flames and realize the body beneath the covers is too small to belong to Griffin. And the voice that screams for help . . .
I pull the blanket away and see dark hair that has been burned away at the front of the scalp. A hand blistered by the explosion reaches out to me as I look into eyes glazed with pain and whisper, “Enzo.”
Chapter 12
CONFUSION. SORROW. ANGUISH. Tears fill my eyes as I run to the bathroom and douse a towel in water. Enzo broke into my room. He went through my things and failed the test that was intended for Raffe. After our Induction experience and the way he tried to protect me after Damone’s death, I don’t understand how this could be. Placing the cool, wet fabric on his angry, red-looking arms, I want to ask why, but the pain on his face and the way his body begins to shake make that question fade. All I want to do is stop the pain. To turn back time so I can dismantle my test before Enzo can find it.
“Cia.” His voice is barely audible through clenched teeth. “I’m sorry. I thought . . . Stacia said . . .” He coughs, takes a shallow breath.
Stacia. Did she think I was taking too long to make a choice? Did she decide this should be Enzo’s test, or is this her way of drawing attention to me so that my plan to help the president—our plan to end The Testing—will fail?
“It’s going to be okay,” I say, because he needs to hear the words and I want to believe them. But it isn’t. Because here he is, burned. Maybe dying.
I dig through my bag for the ointment I have been using on my leg. It won’t be enough to heal these kinds of wounds, but it might make them more bearable. Once I find the small tube, I have no idea where to begin. There are red blotchy patches on his face, arms, and hands. Other burns can be seen through the holes singed into his shirt and pants. There is a charred black area on his cheek that looks as if the skin has been seared beyond repair, and the tissue around his eyes has already begun to swell, making his eyes look small and incredibly vulnerable. The bomb I built did what it was designed to do. Stacia drove Enzo here, but I am to blame for this.
A pulsing, high-pitched sound makes me jump. Someone has activated the residence’s emergency siren.
“Cia, help is coming.” A hand digs into my shoulder and shakes me. “Cia. Do you hear me?”
I look up through my tears to see Raffe’s face looking down. “I’ve put out the rest of the flames and have told everyone coming up the stairs to go outside, but that siren means officials are going to arrive soon. They’re going to come here to your rooms and see what’s happened. Do you understand what this means?”
“It means they’ll help Enzo.” I feel a moment’s relief and then realize that I’m wrong. Raffe isn’t telling me that Enzo will get medical attention. His words are a warning. University officials will be here soon. They will ask questions about what happened and why I created a device that caused this kind of injury. Enzo broke into my room, but I am the one who will pay the price if I don’t leave.
“I have to go,” I say.
It takes two tries to rise to my feet. Raffe moves to help me but I shake off his hands. I walk to my wardrobe, grab my extra boots and another change of clothes to add to the one already in my bag. I pull my jacket on to protect me from the rain. Then I look around rooms that still contain a haze of smoke. Books. Papers. Writing utensils. Many items have been burned, but some were untouched by the flames. They are what have defined me and my goals for most of my life. There is no way to carry more than the paper and pencils I already have stored in my bag, and even if I could, I will have no use for anything else now. Today I am being forced to leave behind the books and the knowledge they contain. From now on, I must have faith that I have learned the lessons I need to take the next step.
“What happened in here?” Ian yells from the doorway.
I have no answer to give, but I’m thankful Raffe does. Over the shrill siren he yells back, “Enzo broke into Cia’s room. He must have been trying to set some kind of trap. It backfired. We figured it would be best if we got out of the way. Right, Cia?”
Ian looks to where Enzo lies shaking on the floor. Then back at me. For a moment he seems conflicted. Then he slides his hand into his coat pocket. When he removes it, a gun is wrapped in his hand.
Enzo moans on the floor. Officials must be arriving now. My time to flee is running out. I need Ian to let me go.
“I know you’re one of the rebels,” I say. “The one Michal told me would keep me safe.”
“Michal would understand. The rebellion has to come first.”
“Michal can’t understand, because he’s dead,” I scream. I think about the listening device behind the wardrobe and lower my voice as much as I can while still allowing myself to be heard. With the emergency sirens blaring and officials on their way, I doubt anyone is listening to what is happening in here now, but I don’t want to reveal more to those who are spying on me than I have to. Lightning flashes in the window. “Symon killed him when Michal gave him proof the president could use to end The Testing. I know, because I was there.”
