He pressed a hand against the rocky cliff to help himself along, finding handholds in ledges that were covered in dried gull droppings. High above him, the birds nested and watched him with glittering black eyes. Every now and then one would call out, harsh and sudden, startling him. The sea nibbled at his soggy boots then fell away, back and forth like a relentless terrier. There were places where the beach dissolved and he had to feel his way across rocks beneath the water. He went slowly, cautiously. He half hoped a wave would just wash up, grab him, and pull him out to see so he could have a good reason to just give up, but no such wave obliged.
The shore gradually bent eastward and by keeping an eye on the stars, he was able to determine when he’d reached the south shoreline. There had to be a way up to the buildings. He saw no ladder, no stair—no, wait.
Ahead of him, a narrow stair was cut into the cliff and lined with rickety metal railings. It zigzagged twice before reaching the top and was barely visible in the darkness. He reached the foot of the stair and began to slowly climb, keeping one hand on the cliff face and the other on the rail, though it wobbled at his touch.
Hardy tufts of grass clung to the sides of the stairs and brushed against his legs. The wind picked up as he went higher, and he pressed himself against the face of the cliff to keep from being blown off balance. Each step was worn at the middle, evidence that they’d been here long before Corpus, back when the place truly was a resort. He imagined men and women in retro swimsuits running up and down these stairs, clutching sun hats to keep them from blowing away, laughing, enjoying their vacation, like models in a vintage Coke ad. They had no idea what this place would become when they had gone. No idea that their paradise could turn so dark.
He tried not to look down. He wasn’t afraid of heights but he couldn’t help remembering the dizzying view from the top, when he’d been on his knees in front of the Corpus guards, certain that the rocky beach below would become his grave.
When he finally reached the top of the cliff, he ducked several stairs down, out of sight. The area surrounding the Vitro building was ablaze with light and voices. There was a lot of shouting, a lot of commotion. They were still in a riot over Jim and Sophie’s destructive escape, it seemed. He felt a pang of worry for Lux; was she all right? Would they have shot her the way they were going to shoot him? He felt wretched for bringing her into the middle of it all. If he hadn’t blundered in and lugged her out of that building, she’d have been fine—maybe they all would have been fine. Maybe he’d be home by now, sleeping in the plane as he sometimes did when he and his dad had been arguing.
“Catch him!” someone shouted, so close to Jim that he flinched and nearly hurtled down the stairs. But it wasn’t him they meant; he looked up and saw a blond-haired boy his own age—another Vitro, perhaps—standing on the edge of the cliff. The boy was dressed in a thin white gown that was too small for his nearly six-foot frame. He looked ridiculous, but Jim found no humor in the way the boy’s vacant eyes rolled disinterestedly over Jim and on to the rocks below.
What’s he doing? Jim wondered.
The boy leaned slightly forward, shifting his weight from his heels to his toes.
“Grab him!” a voice screamed.
A hand reached out and made a grab for the boy’s neck, but it was too late. He didn’t jump, didn’t shout, just fell forward. Jim had to press himself as flat as he could to avoid colliding with him. He nearly reached out to try and catch the boy, but he wasn’t quick enough.
The boy’s gown fluttered around him as he fell, and to Jim it seemed he was dead before he even hit the rocks. He didn’t scream or wave his arms or even look afraid; he just fell as if he were empty, didn’t care, had no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. The crunch his body made as it slammed into the rocks made Jim’s blood curdle.
His stomach heaving, Jim forced himself to stay utterly still as a doctor looked over the edge above him, down at the boy’s still, pale form, at his arms and head twisted into unnatural angles. Bile rose in Jim’s throat but he dared not move or the doctor would spot him. The only thing concealing him was shadow, and if the doctor shifted his eyes even an inch lower, he would see Jim. Then, all it would take was a kick, and the doctor could send him hurtling to join the broken Vitro below.
“He’s gone,” the doctor called, and he turned away in a hurry. “There goes another! Quickly, someone—stop her!” His footsteps pounded off, out of Jim’s hearing.
Jim let out a soft, relieved sigh. His heart was turning somersaults in his chest and he knew if he stopped to think about what he’d just seen he’d be sick, so he turned his mind to what lay ahead, and not below.
He chanced a quick look over the edge of the cliff. There were Vitros everywhere, all of them dressed in white gowns. They wandered with the same awkward clumsiness Lux had had when she first woke, as if they couldn’t tell foot from hand and knee from elbow. They looked like broken robots shuffling around in the grass, or very ineffective, disinterested zombies. And all of them were trying to head for the edge of the cliff. The doctors rushed around in a fervor, but all the guards must have still been out scouting for Jim and Sophie, because they were outnumbered by the Vitros. Jim watched as one by one, the Vitros reached the cliff and tried to throw themselves off of it, with the doctors hastening to pull them back in time. They were trying to herd the Vitros back into the building, but every time they did, another made it to the cliff. It was like trying to dig a hole in the sand; the more they grabbed, more broke free.
Most of the activity seemed to be off to his right, where most of the floodlights were concentrated. To the left, the grass was more shadowy. He had a sudden inspiration—sneak inside, use the Vitros’ distraction as an opportunity to find a telephone and call his dad or the police or the US Navy.
He waited until he was certain everyone’s attention was averted from his general area, then slithered over the edge into the grass and took off at an awkward run, bent double in an attempt to make himself less recognizable. Maybe if someone did see him, they would mistake him for another Vitro.
He reached a lone palm between the cliff and the building and slipped behind it, heart hammering. A cautious look around the trunk revealed that he’d not been spotted. He slumped a little, relieved; the dash to the building would be easier, for the darkness was thicker ahead of him.
On the count of three. His legs tensed, ready to spring out like a runner from the line. One, two—
He stopped as a Vitro meandered past him, a slim Asian girl, with prim features and a dark curtain of hair that hung to her waist. She stumbled by as if sleepwalking. Jim looked around to see if someone were chasing her, but it seemed as if she’d wandered away from the pack and no one had noticed.
Conflicted, Jim looked again at the building. He was so close—and he could even see an open door on the side of the atrium, left ajar in some doctor’s haste, no doubt. He could be inside in seconds without being seen.
He whipped his head around to look at the girl. She walked in a clumsy, wavering line, but she was undoubtedly heading for the edge of the cliff. With her white gown and long hair fluttering in the wind, she looked like a broken, forlorn ghost.
Ah, screw it. He sprinted after the girl.
She reached the edge before he could reach her.
“No!” he yelled. “Stop!”
She teetered, leaned forward, her arms spread wide, her hair billowing behind her like a dark cloak.
“ Stop!” Jim lunged at her, wrapped both arms around her waist, and for a moment they both swayed dangerously on the tip of the cliff; his heels were on the grass but his toes hung over empty space. His heart shot up his throat and for a moment, all of time froze around him, as if the world were waiting breathlessly to see if they would fall. He could have sworn this was the exact spot in which the guards had nearly executed him.