No.
I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to look. If I see it, it will mean that this is real.
But then Doctor Wane turns a mirror toward me, and I catch the reflection of myself in the mirrored wall behind my hospital bed.
I am staring at a girl who isn’t me. Cannot be me.
My hair has been cut short, chin-length in the front, buzzed away to nothing in the back. It reveals a small black box that connects to my neck, right at the base of my skull, so seamlessly connected to my skin it is as if the machine is growing right out of me. Thin black wires slither out of the sides of the box, snaking down toward my spine, disappearing beneath a hospital gown.
“No,” I whisper. “Get it off of me.”
“We can’t do that,” Doctor Wane says.
“Get it off!” I scream. My voice is ragged. I want to kick, fight, scratch out her eyes. “Get this thing out of my body!”
“Control her,” Doctor Wane says over her shoulder. “The black button, Adams.”
And suddenly there is pain. A shock, vibrating through my whole body, jutting out from my spine, stretching to my toes and fingertips.
“Test the connection to the girl,” the doctor says.
And then . . . impossibly . . .
I can hear Peri’s voice. Peri’s scream.
She is sobbing. Calling for Mommy, Daddy, Koi, Meadow. And I can’t reach her, can’t talk back to her, but I know that this is not fabricated. Fear this extreme has to be real. What if it’s a recording? What if they have already killed her?
“Stop it!” I scream. “Make it stop! Don’t you touch her, don’t you ever touch her!”
Doctor Wane holds up a hand. “She’s had enough for now,” she says.
Peri’s screams disappear.
I’m sweating, tears streaming down my cheeks. My whole body trembles.
“This Regulator is connected to an identical one, across the country, that is installed in your sister’s body,” Doctor Wane says. “Brings you closer together in a way, yes?”
“You’re a monster,” I whisper. “I won’t let you get away with this.” I look up at Doctor Wane. There is murder in my eyes, bloodlust seeping from my soul.
“We’ve already done it, Meadow,” she says, smiling. She reaches out to stroke my hair, her hands lingering on the Regulator. “We’ve broken you,” she whispers. “Now, you will do anything that we ask.”
CHAPTER 15
ZEPHYR
The Night Siren goes off. Rhone and Dex go out to search for Lark.
They leave me behind, because of my last episode. Instead, they tie me up in chains across from Sparrow.
We’re prisoners together. The Patient and the Creator’s sister.
I fall asleep, and in my dreams, I visit Talan.
It’s early morning.
Talan is sitting on the shore beside me, dark hair waving in the wind. Her daughter Arden runs in circles behind her, chasing a tiny crab as it paces sideways, claws raised to attack.
“I like the sunrise,” I say. “It feels like a fresh start.”
“You’re such a girl.” Talan laughs and sticks her tongue out at me.
“Real mature,” I say. “I’m being serious.”
“That’s your problem.” She leans back onto her elbows. “You’re always too serious. Life isn’t about that.”
A wave rushes up and tickles my toes. “Yeah? What’s it about, then?”
“Sex,” Talan says, and when I laugh, she waves me off. “Smiling, and laughing, and stealing from people. Putting the first bite of food in your mouth after a hard day of Collection Duty. Curling up next to your daughter at night.”
“Those are your favorite things,” I say. “Not mine.”
Talan nudges me. “It’s all the stuff that makes me feel alive, Zeph.” She lets a handful of sand run through her fingers. “Tell me about yours.”
“I don’t feel alive,” I say.
“But you are,” Talan growls.
“Fine.” I watch the waves. I hate the ocean. But I like the world above it. “The sun. The moon. The stars. Things that are far away from here.”
“There’s one other thing,” Talan says, “that makes me feel alive.”
“Arden?” I ask. “Does Arden make you feel alive?”
We both turn to look at her daughter. She’s splashing in the waves, giggling her head off.
“Yeah.” Talan nods.
But just as a wave crashes, I see her eyes turn toward me. They look different than normal. They look soft. And I swear I hear her say, “And you.”
CHAPTER 16
MEADOW
I have been a prisoner for days.
And now, suddenly, I am free.
I am sitting in a plush red chair inside of a circular room that is adorned in gold. It does not belong in the Shallows. It belongs in a storybook, far away from here.
Somewhere beautiful and new, without death and lies.
I look down at my wrists. There are no MagnaCuffs, no guards standing behind my back, tranquilizer rifles aimed at me, ready to take me out the second I make a wrong move.
Instead, there is a Regulator in my skull and my spine. The threat of my sister’s torture hangs over me, heavy as a storm cloud.
This is the Commander’s office. The man who runs the Initiative.
His portrait is across the room, hanging on the wall. Staring down at me, exactly like the one that I saw of my mother just a few short weeks ago. The Commander has jet-black hair oiled to his head. Strong bones, an angular face that is just as sharp and untouchable as I imagine his heart must be.