Part 3 (2/2)

Um, we really need air, said a technician. He jabbed at the glowing b.u.t.ton that should have opened my mouth, but my mouth was already opening and closing, gulping at the air but getting nothing.

Don't panic, said the new technician, working busily.

Oxygen is running low! shouted the technician monitoring my blood. shouted the technician monitoring my blood.

The edges of the world grew dark again. I was back on the lake bottom....

Owen, this is just the beginning.

It was her again. The voice from the lake. Who was she? Stop thinking about that! You are drowning again! Stop thinking about that! You are drowning again! But that didn't make sense. Oh, maybe she was like a sprite, or a nymph, or one of those other creatures from old stories about s.h.i.+pwrecks and sailors. Mermaid? Siren? But that didn't make sense. Oh, maybe she was like a sprite, or a nymph, or one of those other creatures from old stories about s.h.i.+pwrecks and sailors. Mermaid? Siren? There are no sirens in the lake! There are no sirens in the lake!

The sound of other voices broke me out of my thoughts. From outside, getting closer. My cabin was coming back.

I tried to breathe again, tried to suck in air- And it worked. I felt my throat burst open, my lungs ballooning, and then I coughed out a huge breath. Whatever had been keeping them from working-blocking them, it felt like-had stopped.

I scrambled to my feet, untangling from the nylon curtain. Had to not be naked when my cabin got back. I grabbed my towel from the hook and threw it around my waist. I had just secured it when that gagging feeling like I'd felt at the lake came back and I staggered to the sink and threw up a slick of bile, shower water, and blood. Looking up into the mirror, I saw my dripping chin, my shuddering naked body, and the wounds on my neck- Whoa.

They were way worse than I'd imagined. Two long, red gashes on each side of my neck. They didn't seem to be bleeding at the moment. I reached toward one with a finger and found that the red separated, and for just a moment my finger slipped inside the wound-way too far-and there was blinding pain and white spots. I grabbed the sink to stay on my feet. too far-and there was blinding pain and white spots. I grabbed the sink to stay on my feet.

The wounds had looked feathery inside. Like there were flaps of skin. These didn't look like bites, like parasites feeding or whatever. What had happened to me? An infection? Was this that flesh-eating bacteria that you heard about at medical clinics along the ACF border? Or that cholera mutation that was ravaging south Asia?

The screen door slapped open. I could hear laughing. Okay, the wounds were really weird but seemed stable. I had to move. At any moment, the bathroom door would slam open and Leech or one of his crew would pop in and find me with this mess everywhere and come up with some amazingly stupid yet funny-to-them way to hara.s.s me for it. I looked at the shut door, then the broken shower curtain. First, my neck.... I grabbed the bandages from the sink. They'd gotten damp, but they'd have to do. I wrapped them back into place. The tape was gone, so I tucked in the end and hoped it would hold.

Feet clomped into the bunk room. I turned on the shower to wash away the blood, whipped paper towels out of the dispenser, tearing them free. Turned the shower off, dropped to the floor, wiped the blood from around the shower drain. I got most of it, threw the towels in the trash, tore out more, and threw them on top of the b.l.o.o.d.y ones to cover the mess. Then I grabbed the shower curtain. A few of the rings were broken, so I tossed it over the rod. Turned back to the door. It would have to be good enough....

A few seconds pa.s.sed. There were shouts, more laughing, then a heavy thud. I cracked open the door and peered out.

Leech had Bunsen in a headlock. His chubby legs were flailing uselessly. ”I told you not to talk! Stupid bed wetter! You smell like p.i.s.s! It's cleaning time!”

Meanwhile, Mike and Noah were on Bunsen's bed, stuffing his blankets, sheets, clothes, and pillow out the tiny window beside his bunk. Closer, Beaker was sitting on the floor, holding his knees to his chest, his face red, trying not to cry. Jalen was just finis.h.i.+ng up giving his bed the same treatment. Jalen looked down at Beaker. ”That's for getting me put in the box,” he taunted.

I shuffled quickly over to my bunk, glad to be invisible by comparison. I kept my chin down, but n.o.body even noticed my wet bandages. I climbed up the ladder and found a metal dining hall plate on my bed. It was piled with some kind of noodle ca.s.serole, but there was dirt all over it.

”Oh, Owen, dude, sorry,” Xane called from across the room. I turned to see him shrugging apologetically. ”We got that for you but it got knocked on the ground on the way back.” He sounded sorry, but not too much, and turned back to his conversation with Carl and Wesley. I took the plate over to the compost container and slid the food in.

The group moved on from tormenting Bunsen and Beaker to a game of Monopoly. The cabin quieted down.

Later, Todd came in and read to us. It was this old book with a long t.i.tle by some author named Edgar Poe from, like, two hundred fifty years ago. It was apparently a cabin tradition, and it was weird, being read to, like we were innocent children instead of a bunch of savages, but it was also maybe cool, 'cause you could just lie there and picture the words, or not. It had seemed like it would be kind of a boring book, but then the main character, named Pym, was almost getting killed every chapter. He and the other two survivors on this lost boat were just deciding which of them they were going to cannibalize when I started to doze off.

I closed my eyes and felt the faint twinge of the strange wounds on my neck. They weren't burning anymore. No pain since the shower, just a slight hum. Why had water made them feel better, when Dr. Maria had said to stay away from it?

Soon the cabin buzzed with slumber, light snores and heavy breaths, and as I drifted off to sleep, I thought of Lilly's words. No matter what happens... No matter what happens... Maybe this, these weird wounds, was what Lilly had meant. Maybe she was the one I needed to talk to. Maybe this, these weird wounds, was what Lilly had meant. Maybe she was the one I needed to talk to.

Chapter 4

WE WOKE THE NEXT MORNING TO THE REVEILLE horn. It was a recorded trumpet sound, hissing from speakers in the trees. My wounds had awakened me a few times in the night, sizzling lightly, then calming down. In between, my dreams had been strange, dark, full of water and blood, the kind of dreams where you were convinced they were real the whole time, and yet I couldn't remember any specifics, and so I just felt slow and fuzzy as everyone hopped up around me. The wounds were humming faintly now, not bad, just a p.r.i.c.kling reminder that they were there. horn. It was a recorded trumpet sound, hissing from speakers in the trees. My wounds had awakened me a few times in the night, sizzling lightly, then calming down. In between, my dreams had been strange, dark, full of water and blood, the kind of dreams where you were convinced they were real the whole time, and yet I couldn't remember any specifics, and so I just felt slow and fuzzy as everyone hopped up around me. The wounds were humming faintly now, not bad, just a p.r.i.c.kling reminder that they were there.

Todd came in, wearing boxers and a dark-gray Camp Eden T-s.h.i.+rt with the sleeves cut off. ”Good morning, ladies,” he said, stretching like he was giving us a furry armpit show. ”We leave for flagpole in ten minutes.”

That was enough time for everyone to get dressed and for Jalen to run over to Beaker. ”Wake-up wedgie!” he shouted like he was half our age, and yanked Beaker off the ground.

”Everybody make sure to put this on,” said Todd, reappearing and pa.s.sing around a stiff plastic bottle of NoRad lotion. ”Arms, legs, face, and neck.”

”Don't forget your b.a.l.l.s!” said Leech. ”Can't be too careful.” He looked toward Bunsen, Beaker, and me. ”You guys probably don't need to worry.” He and Mike slapped hands.

”Okay, enough,” said Todd, but I saw him smiling a little.

I slipped my pullover carefully over my neck. It didn't quite zip over the bandages. When the bottle got to me, I rubbed the greasy, metallic paste onto my face, my hands, and my ears. It always tingled a little as it sank in, and you heard rumors that it was bad for you in its own way, but I'd seen the effects of extreme UV radiation out at Yellowstone: the purple melanomas etched into boiled skin, the whites of eyes burned brown, the lost fingers and noses. Apparently, there were regions of the world-in some of the Habitable Zone, a pocket over central Asia, parts of the Pacific-where the ozone layer was still thick enough that you could step outside without any kind of NoRad, at least for a few minutes. It hadn't been like that anywhere near Hub for over fifty years, though.

We trudged out the side door and followed Todd toward the flagpole at the edge of the playing fields, where we met before each meal for announcements. On the way out, I noticed that Beaker's blanket and sheets were still lying in the dirt. He'd apparently decided it was easier to just sleep without them.

We filed down the path, and I ended up walking next to Xane. ”So, dude,” he asked me, ”what was it like?”

Xane was from a place called Taipei, which had submerged in the Rise. The People's Corporation of China had refused most of the refugees, so his parents had gotten him into Eden as a Cryo. I'd heard that when you were accepted as a Cryo, Eden got to choose which center you'd be placed in, based on s.p.a.ce, so he ended up here instead of EdenEast. Xane's parents, and most of the Taiwanese, had emigrated to c.o.ke-Sahel, which was formed when the Coca-Cola company merged with Walmart and then purchased twelve West African countries. Even now, they were constantly advertising out at Hub for new employee-citizens.

”What,” I replied, ”drowning?” I tried to remember. ”It hurt, until I blacked out.”

”No, not that.” Xane turned and slapped me on the shoulder. ”Getting mouth-to-mouth from Lilly. That's what I'm talking aBOUT.” Xane always did that, making the second half of a word really loud.

”Oh.” This was a chance, I guessed, to earn some points. I could talk it up, and everyone in my cabin would think it was awesome. They were all trying to flirt with the oldest girls' cabin, the Arctic Foxes, but n.o.body was getting anywhere, and here I was, having had actual lip contact, though not for the right reasons. But apparently it counted. Still, the thought of talking about that, of bragging about it or whatever, just made me want to be silent instead.

Luckily, I could answer Xane's question with the truth: ”All I remember is waking up and throwing up.”

”Wow,” Xane sighed. ”That's sad. A girl sucked your face and you don't even reMEMber.”

Noah heard this and turned around. ”I would totally drown to get mouth-to-mouth from Lilly. She's HiRad for sure.”

”Easy, too,” added Leech. ”She gets down with all the CIT guys is what I hear.”

”Duude,” said Xane softly, like he was imagining this. ”Owen, man, you must have gotten some swEET views when she was all bending over you saving your life and all that.” He started sliding his hands up and down through the air, drawing idealized girl shapes.

”Look, I drowned,” I snapped. ”It wasn't a turn-on, so forget it.” The truth was obviously different: not that drowning was a turn-on, but that Lilly was, and that I'd definitely had all kinds of thoughts like that, though the part about her and other CITs was hard to hear, and it just reminded me once again that someone like me was not going to have a shot with someone like her.

Leech's freckled face squinted at me. He shook his head slowly. ”What a waste.”

We got to flagpole and sat on a long bench made from half a tree trunk. We were in the last row. Behind us, a short hill rose to the tall gla.s.s windows of the dining hall. All the campers were there, except the CITs, who didn't have to do kids' stuff like this. The activities coordinator, a lady named Claudia who wore a camp sweats.h.i.+rt over her wide body and khaki shorts that showed off her purple-coated knees, welcomed us and then said good morning to each cabin. When she said it, each cabin had to say some kind of cheer. The littlest kids took it really seriously, but then the effort faded with age, with a huge drop-off when it finally got to us.

”And good morning, Spotted Hyenas!”

Groans and sighs. We couldn't have hated this more. Todd's idea for a cheer had been ”Sssssneak attack!” because today we were playing capture the flag. It trickled out of our mouths in a sad mumble.

”Okay,” said Claudia with obvious disappointment. ”And goood morning, Arctic Foxes!”

”Balance!” half the Foxes shouted in eerie female unison.

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