Because I have to do something.
And then the answer hits me like a hailstorm.
I run toward the basement door. I turn on the lights and gag on the smell of rat poop as I descend. At the bottom of the stairs, I make sure that every light does its job. I want to see everything: the medical equipment; the rat cages with furry, squeaky test subjects inside; the small, locked closet where they keep the firearms.
I want to see the black case.
Mason’s voice saying In case of an emergency, runs through my head.
If this isn’t an emergency, I don’t know what is.
I reach the case but hesitate before opening it. Somewhere deep inside me, I know what I’m doing is wrong. But then I think of Audrey. I think of Matt. I think of God and the program and Nora. How God controlled Nora. And how, with rules and oaths, he’s controlling me.
I think of Megan.
I think of taking control.
And then, with no more hesitation, I punch in the first code.
At six thirty, I stand alone on the river walk, watching the people move like ants through downtown after a long day at work. Mason and the other agents call them—the normal people—Unenlightened. More like untouched.
I hear the rhythmic thud of feet running toward me but I don’t turn to look. They slow as they approach, and then stop. Raspy breath sounds next to me, but there’s nothing else.
“I want you to know that I’m not doing this for you,” I say, keeping my eyes on the skyline.
“You have your reasons,” Matt answers gruffly. “Can we just do this? I need to get back to the hospital.”
I turn to face him. Our eyes meet for the second time today. And for the second time, despite hating him, I want to hug him. But I don’t. Instead, I reach into my pocket and pull out a tiny loaded syringe with a plastic cover over the needle.
“Burn the syringe after you use it,” I say to Matt.
“Okay.”
“I’ve never actually seen this done on a human,” I continue. “But I think you just give her the whole dose.”
“Where?” he asks. An evening breeze blows his long hair into his eyes. He shakes it out like he’s mad at it.
“I don’t know,” I say. I try to think back. Once I had an IV when I woke up. Maybe twice. “Does she have an IV? You could put it in that. Or just into her arm.”
“Okay,” Matt says, sounding unsure.
“Matt, you don’t have to do it if—”
“Yes, I do,” he interrupts. “I have to. It can’t hurt her. I mean she’ll already be—”
“I know,” I jump in, not wanting him to say it. “But I want you to know how big of a deal this is,” I say, thinking of Nora’s situation.
“I’m not going to get you in trouble,” Matt snaps.
“I’m not talking about that,” I say calmly. “There are worse things than me getting in trouble.”
Matt looks at me, waiting for an explanation, but I stop talking and shove my hands into my jeans pockets. I don’t want to scare him, especially right now. Because in my heart I know he’ll do it anyway.
“Just be careful, okay?” My tone is pleading, and I can see in his mellowed gaze that I’ve gotten through.
“I will,” he says quietly. He takes a step away. “Thanks for doing this.”
“Of course,” I say, but it comes out a whisper.
Please let it work, I think.
I watch Matt walk away. He looks back once, and when he does, there’s a flash of something sweet in his eyes. But then he turns away again, and too soon, he’s gone.
twenty-nine
In the middle of the next night, something awakens me. I look at the clock: It’s 2:38 AM. Unsure about what pulled me from sleep, I listen to the sounds of the darkness. A tree brushes against the glass outside my window; car tires squeal in the distance. I listen for Mason’s snores before I remember he’s not home.
I feel alone, but I’m not afraid. I relax and listen to the world until the creaks of the house and the barks of the dog next door blend into the background and I manage to fall back to sleep.
When I wake again, my brain is muddy. It’s daytime, but the world is too still. The sun is on the wrong side of the house. But also, there’s something else.
Somehow, in the core of me, I know.
I reach for the phone next to me. I text Matt to confirm.
It happened in the middle of the night.
Audrey is dead.
thirty
Mason’s on his way back from Seattle, again, but for now I’m by myself. Honestly, I feel like I have been this whole time. If James checked up on me, he did it invisibly. Guess that makes him good at his job.
I brush my teeth, think about the fact that Audrey is dead, and throw up. Then I brush my teeth again. I stare at myself in the mirror for a long while, not really seeing. I start to feel trapped in my own skin, like I need to move or I’ll go crazy. I rush out of the house, not knowing where I’m going. I walk a few blocks, then text Matt.
Daisy: Where are you?
Matt: Home.
Daisy: I’m coming over.
No answer.
Maybe I called a cab; maybe it just showed up. I don’t really remember. I give the driver the McKeans’ address and remind myself to breathe the whole way there. I look down at my lap and realize that I’m wearing a pair of Audrey’s jeans. I fold forward and sob silently for the duration of the ride. Lucky for him, the taxi driver doesn’t look at me or ask whether I’m all right.
The Mini sits in front of the McKeans’ house, smiling and waiting to beep beep around town with Audrey at the wheel. I want to kick the car or drag my key through the paint: It’s too happy.
Matt answers my knock but says nothing. He opens the door wider so I can come in, and I do, even though I’m pretty sure he doesn’t really want me to. I follow him to his bedroom, not caring who’s home or who minds.
“I don’t know why you’re here,” he says when we both sit down on his rumpled bed. This is the first time I’ve ever been in his room.
“I didn’t want to be alone,” I say honestly. I have no filter anymore. “And I wanted to know what happened. Did you do it?”
“Yes.” He’s looking across the room with flat, emotionless eyes.
“And?”
“And nothing,” he says. “I injected it into her IV less than five minutes after they called time of death.”
“And?” I ask again, as gently as I can. Matt’s head snaps in my direction so quickly that it makes me jump.
“And what, Daisy?” he hisses. “What the hell do you think? Does it look like Audrey’s sitting next to me right now?”
His hand is gripping the bedspread like he’s afraid he’ll fall off.
“I’m sorry I came,” I say, standing. “And I’m sorry it didn’t work.”
“I’m sure you are,” Matt mutters. My blood boils and all I want to do is scream at him. Tell him that I loved his sister, that I love him. Shake him and say maybe he did it wrong. Wrap my arms around him and lie on his bed and cry with him.
Instead, I leave.
An hour later, Matt’s on my doorstep. He’s sweaty and I wonder if it’s possible that he ran all the way here. I let him in and we go upstairs to my room. It’s exactly the same as when I went to his house, but in reverse.
Except it isn’t.
We don’t say a word to each other. I walk into my room first and he follows; halfway across the floor, he catches my hand and spins me around. He grabs my face in his hands and kisses me, unsure for a moment, then hard, aggressive, but nothing I don’t want him to do. I feel like I’m drawing out his pain like venom from a rattlesnake bite and, for a few minutes, it makes me forget my own misery.