Torn Read online

  Davis felt the other man standing over their bag. He was so close she could hear him breathing. If he thought theirs looked lumpier or bigger than the rest, he wasn’t giving any indication. Mercer dug his fingertips into her thigh, signaling for her to get ready. She slowly, carefully loosened the top of the bottle.

  The man unzipped the bag.

  Mercer reached out, grabbing him and knocking off his air filtration mask, as Davis doused the scrap of fabric in chloroform. Mercer and the worker struggled, and for a second, Davis couldn’t get her bearings. The man let out a choking cough and his mask clattered to the floor. Then Davis reached for him, closing the rag around his nose and holding it there until his body fell limp to the floor.

  “Hurry!” she hissed. Mercer stripped the guy of his uniform, and together they dragged him to the darkened side of the room where Mercer had found the stacks of unused body bags. They pulled him behind the stacks, and Mercer slipped on the man’s uniform, zipping it all the way over his head and pulling the air filtration mask tightly over his face. He looked like a stranger. He motioned for her to step back inside the bag, and when she did, he bent low and picked her up, hauling her off to the barge.

  A half hour or so later, Davis felt the boat beginning to bob slowly away from the shore. It was an eternity after that when she finally felt the zipper of her bag being pulled slowly down, felt a familiar hand reach for hers.

  “I thought something had happened,” she breathed.

  “I had to wait until it was dark to come,” he said, squatting beside her. “The other guys are eating below. We need to go now. There’s a lifeboat just over there.” He nodded toward the side of the boat, just a few feet from where Davis lay. “That’s why I put you here.”

  “We’re so close,” she said, her heart accelerating. Mercer nodded, squeezing her palm. He pulled her closer to him. He looked like he wanted to say something; his lips parted, and his eyes glittered in the dark.

  “We need to go now,” she told him, getting to her feet. Whatever he wanted to say, she wasn’t ready for it. Mercer lowered Davis into the lifeboat, grasping her firmly around the waist. She felt the boat rock steadily beneath her feet, felt freedom just inches away. Then Mercer untied the knot that held the lifeboat to the barge and leapt in after her, pushing off into the night.

  They watched as the tinier boat separated from the larger vessel. The deck of the bigger boat, loaded with bodies, was otherwise quiet. Lights shone from the lower levels, but no one peered from the windows. If they had, they would have seen nothing, Davis imagined, other than what looked like a piece of bobbing driftwood. The night sky was cloudy, dark. And they were free.

  “They’ll hear of it soon,” Mercer said into the still night air.

  “I’m sure they know already,” Davis echoed. “Dr. Grady would have looked for his key.”

  “We’ll make it,” he said. “We have a head start. They aren’t prepared to handle this.”

  Davis hoped he was right. He had to be right—everyone’s lives depended on it. This time, her fingers reached for his first and curled around them, holding tight.

  8

  COLE

  Cole had been toiling for nearly an hour, and he suspected at this point that Mari was just toying with him. But he had no choice, if he wanted to get on Braddock’s good side. The tree still barely trembled each time he swung the enormous ax Mari had given him. His muscles burned, and his arms and back ached so much he could hardly heave the ax through the air. Flies and gnats swarmed around him, attracted to his sweat. He’d long since given up on swatting them away. He was drenched, thirsty, and tired. All he wanted in the world was clean water, but water was scarce out here in Open Country. Cole knew by now that Braddock paid a street kid to bring him an enormous case of water each month. Not many people were desperate enough to make the trek to Open Country, Braddock had told him. But he paid the kid well. Still, they had to be very careful to ration the drinking water. For bathing and cooking, they boiled the contaminated water from the nearby streams. Mari claimed her immune system was invincible, due to the toxins she’d probably absorbed as a kid.

  Training, Mari had said. But what the hell kind of training was whacking at a tree all day long? It helped to funnel all his frustrations into that tree—to pretend the tree had separated him from Davis; the tree had caused the riots that had destroyed so much of the Slants. Instead of absorbing his anger, though, whaling on the tree made him hungry for a fight. He needed a human opponent. And not a girl half his size. The fact that Mari was training him—and not the other way around—was starting to feel like some sort of joke. There was no way he’d be prepared for the Olympiads with a girl in charge of his training.

  “How’s it coming?” she asked, emerging from the house with a bottle of water.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. She raised her eyebrows and took a long swig before offering him some. Cole accepted it gratefully. He knew the water was scarce. Still, he wasn’t going to play nice. Not when she was putting him through such pointless torture just because he came from a city she hated. In her mind, he realized, he was almost as bad as the Priors she clearly despised.

  “Not going too well, I guess?” She eyed the tree critically. “So maybe you’ll fell it by the time the contest happens. Awesome.”

  “I’m not really sure what this has to do with the Olympiads,” Cole told her. “Should I be thinking about competing in the Paul Bunyan division?”

  “Ha-ha,” Mari said without humor. “But you’re so right. This has pretty much nothing to do with the Olympiads.”

  “What the hell, Mari?” Cole threw the ax on the ground. “So you’re wasting my time.”

  “Correction. It’s my time you’re wasting,” Mari said. “It’s not like I’m getting paid to do this. The tree is for the table you’re building to replace the one you broke. Once you’re done, we’ll talk Olympiads.”

  “Right,” Cole muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Can’t wait.” His lower back was stiff, and it hurt to twist his torso. His arms felt like dead weights attached to his shoulders. He hadn’t eaten in hours. He would have killed for one of his mom’s egg salad and green olive sandwiches just then. For a second, he missed his dank, dirty hideout—which had never seemed like anything more than a glorified prison but now was taking on the properties of a sanctuary, in his mind. His tattered cot and the few novels Worsley had brought him beckoned invitingly. Besides, this entire endeavor was pissing him off. It felt like he was achieving nothing, frittering away time.

  “What’s with the attitude?” Mari wanted to know. “As I recall, you came to us for help.”

  “Not you, plural,” Cole corrected. “Your dad. Personally, I don’t think I should be taking instructions from someone half my size. Especially someone who’s pretty much a hermit.” Cole only sort of regretted saying it. Mostly, it felt like a relief.

  “So that’s what this is about. ‘Someone half my size.’ You’re mad because you’re taking orders from a girl. Is that right?”

  Cole didn’t answer. She’d pretty much hit the nail on the head. But she’d missed one thing: he was also mad because she hated him for no reason. Like he didn’t have enough to deal with beyond the latent rage of some girl who barely factored into his life.

  “Suit yourself, pawn,” Mari said, her face furious. She stomped back into the house, slamming the door behind her.

  Pawn? That could only mean one thing. She thought he was some sort of lemming because he lived in Columbus, aka Priorville. Forget the Slants; forget what he’d gone through. And if she knew he was in love with a Prior, well.…

  Cole kicked the tree and swore. Now his toe hurt. His back hurt. His arms were aching. And this whole stupid thing was pointless. He was better off going home, rethinking his strategy, training himself. Screw their table. If she hadn’t attacked him, he wouldn’t have broken it.

  Cole was just past the front door when he heard a cough behind him. He turned to find Braddock on
the front porch, sitting in his wheelchair, his arms crossed over his chest, a cigarette dangling from between his lips.

  “You’re making a mistake,” the old man said gruffly.

  “This whole thing was a mistake,” Cole replied.

  “No. With Mari. She might be small, but I trained her from the time she could walk. She knows more about athletics than you possibly could. She’s seen the inside of the best training facilities in the country. Gyms were her playgrounds. The girl has lived and breathed FEUDS and Olympiads her whole life. She’s seen all the best fighters, Prior and Gen. She’s been with me from the beginning. She’s sparred with the best. They all loved her, wanted to take her under their wings. She’s the best and the smartest. You know why, kid?”

  Cole didn’t answer.

  “I asked you a question. You know why? No? I’ll tell you. It’s because people like you underestimate her. That. That’s her secret weapon. You think she’s not fit to train you? You should be so lucky. Look around you.” The old man stared at him, long and hard. Cole opened his mouth, feeling his neck burn. He’d never felt like more of an asshole. The front yard where he stood was littered with medals and ribbons hanging from tree branches to support the weight of dozens of tiny feeders for birds. Evidence of Braddock’s brilliance was all over the place. Clearly, Braddock knew what he was talking about. Cole swallowed hard, wishing he hadn’t offended Braddock. He realized he was still hoping that if he played Braddock’s game—trained with his daughter—maybe Braddock himself would eventually step in. This wasn’t the way to earn his trust.

  “I’m sorry,” he started, but Braddock waved him off and wheeled back inside, shaking his head.

  Cole turned back around to find Mari standing on the lawn, her arms crossed. How long had she been watching?

  “So?” She arched an eyebrow and Cole felt his face heat.

  “Let’s do this,” he said. He’d do whatever it took to get on Braddock’s good side. “I’ll chop that tree into planks if it takes me all night.”

  She pursed her lips, waiting.

  “I’m sorry,” Cole told her reluctantly. He knew he had to say it, and if he was honest with himself, it was true. “I was an ass. A complete idiot. I’m really, really sorry. I’m just used to.…”

  “To being the best,” she finished. “To not having a girl call all the shots.”

  Cole swallowed hard. “No. That’s not it. Or at least, not all of it. I’m just … I have so much riding on this.”

  Mari was silent, and Cole hesitated, wondering how much he should say. “I’m not used to relinquishing control,” he admitted. “I’ve overseen my own training pretty much my whole life. And now … this isn’t just a competition to me. I have to win. I have to be the best.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s the only way to be with the girl I love,” Cole told her. “Davis is sick. She’s at a facility called TOR-N. If I have the money to get to her … we can finally be together again. She doesn’t even know I’m alive right now. I don’t know how she’s doing. It’s torture.”

  “You’re in love with a Prior.” Mari’s face was expressionless, but Cole knew the significance the revelation held for her.

  He rushed on, “And winning means I can maybe get my family away from the Slants—take them somewhere safe and peaceful. My mom’s in a home for destitutes right now. She lost her job when the factory she worked at was destroyed in the riots. My brother has dedicated his whole future toward looking after her.” At this, he saw a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. Mari had spent her life looking after her father. She understood what that was like.

  “Where would you take them?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. One of the other territories, where conditions are better for Gens. I haven’t thought that far ahead. I just know that money opens doors. And right now, we don’t have any. We don’t even have any hope for having any … except this. I’m the only one who can save my family. And it’s the only way I can be with Davis again. But I am sorry, Mari. You’re trying to help—you are helping,” he said, realizing he meant it. Never had he subjected himself to such a tough workout. Mari knew things he didn’t about survival; that was undeniable. He was never angry at Mari, he realized. The whole time he’d been hitting that tree, resenting training with second best, he’d been taking out his feelings of helplessness.

  “What’s it like?” Mari asked, avoiding his eyes.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Love,” she said simply. “And what are they like in person? Priors.” She shuddered, like the word was hard to spit out.

  “Love is … difficult to describe,” Cole said. He’d never tried to explain to anyone exactly how he felt about Davis. “It’s tenderness and trust and knowing that this is your person, someone who’s in your corner all the time and just gets you. And you want to take care of them, too. Protect them from everything bad. Make them happy. It’s this feeling where you’d do anything to see them laugh,” he told her. “Where their smile is enough to carry you through the day. Their happiness is your happiness. Their stress and fear are yours, too. It’s like your soul expands so there’s room to carry someone else’s, too. It’s like having a twin heart. And then there’s the rest of it.…” He trailed off, embarrassed. He couldn’t believe he’d opened up to someone he didn’t even like. Someone who hated him for no good reason. Who saw the world in black and white.

  “You asked about Priors,” he said, changing the subject quickly. “How much have you interacted with them?” Maybe some of her hatred would dissipate if he explained that not all Priors were bad, that most were just products of bad influences. Many couldn’t think for themselves beyond what they’d been taught all their lives. But some could. It was they who gave him hope.

  Mari shrugged in response to his question. “Not much. When I was little, of course. There are photos of me with Priors, from when my dad trained them. They’re so beautiful,” she said. “But now I know they’re monsters.”

  “They’re not,” Cole protested. “Not all of them. They’re just people, like we are, and they’re misinformed. We’re all the same, inside. Sure, they’re prettier. And they have genetic enhancements. And maybe some of them are a little shallow and cruel—but that’s not innate, that’s learned. All of this,” he explained, telling her everything he’d learned from loving Davis, “comes from fear and misunderstanding.”

  Mari grunted, tossing her long, tangled hair over her shoulder. She looked angry. Cole guessed she wasn’t used to anyone challenging her own beliefs—which was pretty ironic, given that that very concept factored into her hatred for Priors.

  “Are we going to do this or what?” Cole asked, dropping the subject and gesturing toward the tree.

  “Forget the tree. You can handle that on your own time. You wanna see what I’ve got? Let’s get straight to the good stuff.”

  Now Cole let himself smile. Pissing off Mari wasn’t going to make things any easier on him, that was for sure. “Challenge accepted,” he replied, following her into the stretch of land that extended past the back of the house and on into the forest.

  “Do you mind if I ask how you plan to enter the Olympiads? I mean, being ‘dead’ and all.…” Mari trailed off. Was she baiting him? “Training is kind of a waste of everyone’s time if you’re not able to compete.” Cole felt his shoulders tense, but he couldn’t deny that her question was valid. Mari had a direct, confident way about her that he wasn’t used to, probably because she hadn’t been exposed to social norms. Bluntness seemed to be her way of life.

  “I haven’t figured that part out yet,” Cole said, his tone guarded. He wasn’t sure she wouldn’t use his personal life against him. “But I have someone helping me. It’ll work out.” He shut his mouth, unwilling to say more. Mari turned sharply at the tone of his voice, meeting his eyes. She nodded once, her expression somber.

  “Well, then,” she said. “Let’s give you the hardest workout of your life.”

 
She wasn’t exaggerating. Over the course of two hours, Mari timed Cole with a stopwatch while he ran countless conditionals on a makeshift, roughly surfaced track. It was like she enjoyed watching him suffer. He figured she probably did, and it fueled him even more. After he finished each challenge—discus throwing, long jumps, leaping over makeshift hurdles nearly as high as his shoulders—she shook her head, frowning at the recorded time. Cole pushed himself harder than he’d ever pushed. But after several months in hiding, he was strong from lifting—something he could do within Michelle’s hideout—but weak from lack of stamina, given that he hadn’t been able to emerge in order to run. His reaction time was also a little slower than it had been when he was in peak physical condition. Finally, Mari motioned him over to a patch of grass and told him to sit down, handing him a water bottle.

  “You can’t enter with these times,” Mari told him. “You’re not even close to a Prior median in most of these challenges. You may not even qualify, let alone win.”

  Cole let the news sink in, fighting back frustration. His entire body was spent. He’d pushed himself as far as he could go. And still he wasn’t even close. “I’ll keep training,” he insisted. “I’ll get my speed back, and then—”

  Mari shook her head. “Even then, I don’t think we have enough time to put you in an advantageous position,” she argued. “Priors have the genetic advantage, and a lot of them have spent their whole lives training.”

  “There’s got to be another event.”

  “The rest of the events require equipment. We can’t compete with Prior technology. You’d be facing a huge disadvantage, even more so than with gymnastics or track-and-field events.”

  “So what am I supposed to do?” Cole asked, running a hand through his hair. His shoulders were tense, and it was all he could do not to punch something—anything—to blow off some steam. “You don’t understand. This is my only hope. I don’t have any other options. Literally everything rides on this.” He stopped, flushing. He’d let down his guard. He couldn’t stand the brief flash of sympathy that crossed Mari’s thin features.