Graduation Day by Joelle Charbonneau


  The clump of bushes I’m looking for is at the end of the third block, a hundred feet from the road. I get off my bike and drag it with me into the middle of a thicket of evergreen boughs. I sit on the ground with my knees pulled tight against my chest. Thunder echoes above. Between the lack of moonlight and the misty rain, visibility is poor. Now that I have nothing to do but sit and think, tears begin to fall. And I let them, because this might be the only time I have a chance to release the feelings inside me. Bitter tears for Enzo. For Kerrick and Marin. For Damone. For Michal. And even more for me. For the girl who was raised to love and respect life and has since been forced to kill.

  The tears keep coming as the sky clears. At some point, Dr. Barnes and Professor Holt will find the tracking device near the campus entrance. They will know I am no longer on campus. Will they believe I have done what Tomas has suggested and gone home? Will they send someone to Five Lakes? Will they believe my family when they say they have not seen me? If not, what will become of them and everyone else in my colony? Because the people I know there will not stand by and allow my family to suffer at the hands of whichever officials arrive. They believe in peace, but I have no doubt they will fight if necessary. They will fight and keep fighting.

  I can do no less.

  I take a deep breath, wipe the tears off my face, and try to think. Part of me wants to head for the rebel camp and find my brother. He was the one I always turned to when I needed help solving a problem. Even if he didn’t have the answer, he always made me feel more confident and in control by discussing the dilemma with me. But I can’t go to him now. If the students who attacked in the stadium are any indication of the lengths to which the rebels will go to ensure nothing threatens their cause, going to the air force base will only lead to trouble for Zeen. Even if I could find him, my brother would insist on my leaving Tosu City, which is something I can’t do. Besides, he is in the perfect place to remove Symon when we are ready. Until then, I will have to rely on myself to think things through.

  I doubt Dr. Barnes and Symon will allow me to roam free for long. Once they begin to search in earnest, President Collindar will be unable to intervene on my behalf. Not without making them aware of her interests. Starting tomorrow morning, word will reach the president and her team, and I will be cut off from any assistance on that front. This means if I need anything from the fifth-floor room, I have to get it before sunrise. And now I know what I will need.

  If only Tomas would arrive.

  According to the watch on my bag, it has been two hours since Tomas, Raffe, and I parted ways. So much change in so little time. The minutes crawl by as I peer through the branches toward the roadway that leads to the University gate. If I’m to reach the president’s office before a search for me is launched, I have to go now or risk being spotted and captured.

  Still, I wait. I need to know that Tomas is safe.

  Ten more minutes pass. I picture Tomas being caught. Questioned. Injured. Worse. Part of me wants to ride back onto campus to find him. But I stay put and squint into the shadows.

  There.

  I see the outline of a figure riding a bicycle. I know it’s him. Turning the frequency knob on my pulse radio to the one that Raffe uses, I shove the radio into my bag and then crawl through the mud out from my hiding place. I pull my bike free from the branches and wheel it toward the roadway. Tomas looks over his shoulder, toward the University entrance. Looking for someone chasing him or for me?

  The second he spots me he stops his bicycle, climbs off, and whispers my name in the dark. When I reach him I throw my arms around his waist and squeeze tight, so grateful that he is safe and here with me now.

  “I was worried you’d leave when it took me so long to get here.” Tomas presses his lips against my forehead. “There are lots of skimmers and Safety officials on campus, especially near the residences. I had to double back a lot in order to avoid them. Are you okay?”

  “We have to get out of here.” Reluctantly, I step out of his arms.

  “If you’ve changed your mind, we could still leave. Five Lakes—”

  “I’m not going back to Five Lakes.”

  Tomas takes a deep breath and nods. “I didn’t think you would, but I’d hoped . . .” He looks past me, down the roadway. Despite his desire to see The Testing ended, he wants more than anything to go home. To forget. I understand that longing, but there is no forgetting what we have seen and done. The only way to live with our actions is to end the very thing that caused them. Or die trying.

  He sets his shoulders and asks, “Where do we go from here?”

  I climb onto my bike and say, “First to the president’s office. There are weapons there that we’ll need. Then we’re going to hide in a place where no one will find us and plan our attack. If the others get off campus, they’ll meet us there.”

  I can tell Tomas wants to question me further, but there isn’t time. I push off and begin to pedal down the darkened roadway, scanning the area for any movement near the buildings that we pass. The structures in the area immediately outside the University are used by professors and their families, although a few are designated for use by colony officials and scientists who have come to Tosu City. Since it is approaching nine o’clock, past the time the law allows the use of electricity in nongovernment and University buildings, the houses are dark. Here and there I see a flicker of light coming from a window, telling me some families are using candlelight.

  The clouds dissipate and the moon appears. It is only a sliver, but even that meager, hazy light helps us move faster than we otherwise could. It is hard to spot the places where the road has fallen into disrepair. But we continue to head southbound, toward the heart of the city.

  Everything about this journey, us riding bicycles, Tomas’s breathing, and the nervous clench of my muscles, reminds me of the fourth phase of The Testing, when Tomas and I had only our wits and each other to help us survive. Perhaps it is because I remember how we beat the odds that I do not feel the same fear now that I did then. And strange as it seems, for the first time since I was selected for The Testing, my actions are my own. Yes, Dr. Barnes and his officials will be searching for me. Yes, President Collindar expects me to do a job that almost everyone in my colony would find unthinkable. But my flight from the University means I no longer am accountable to either of them. For the first time in a long time, my life is in my own hands. Though I can’t know if that life will last much longer than the next couple of days, I at least know that this time belongs to me.

  Chapter 13

  THE TRANSIT COMMUNICATOR and the lights from the windows of the government buildings in the center of the city guide our travel. The residential neighborhoods we ride through are quiet. We hear nothing to give any indication of pursuit. Still, I find myself casting glances over my shoulder and pushing my legs. We need to get to the president’s office and leave again before the search for us extends past the University grounds.

  Because government officials are known to toil late into the night, I have little doubt there will be people working on the president’s projects when I arrive. If I am lucky, they will not question my presence. They will, however, wonder about Tomas, which is why I lead him to the building where Michal once felt it was safe to talk.

  “You won’t be allowed to come into the building with me. You can stay here,” I say, testing the door. When it opens, I heave a sigh of relief.

  While individual offices and rooms are often locked, the doors to most buildings are kept unfastened because of what happened during the Fifth through Seventh Stages of War, when chemical-laden rain fell from the sky. People caught in those downpours sought shelter, but those who were not near their homes or vehicles succumbed to the toxins in the deadly rains because they had nowhere to take cover.

  I wait for Tomas to protest. He only warns me to be careful and hurry back.

  Using one of the windowless rooms inside the building, I change into fresh clothes from my bag and untangle my hair with
my fingers. I walk back toward the front door and into Tomas’s arms. I hug him tight before striding out. While the streets we rode coming here were empty, here in the heart of the city I spot several skimmers as they travel to or from government buildings, as well as two people in the distance traveling on foot. I store my bicycle in the holding rack and walk into the building with my shoulders straight and my head high. As if I belong here.

  One of the two Safety officials inside the foyer looks up from his log and gets to his feet to verify my clearance. His movements are annoyingly unhurried as I pull up the sleeve of my jacket and display the bracelet on my wrist.

  He checks his clipboard and nods. I force myself to keep a moderate pace as I head for the stairs and start climbing. Still, I am out of breath when I reach the fifth floor and punch the code into the keypad next to the door. Once again I find myself in the storage room, taking stock of the inventory. But this time, instead of avoiding the weapons, I reach for them.

  I open a box of bullets and reload the gun Raffe gave me. I then slide several boxes of ammunition, three additional handguns, and several long, deadly-looking knives into my bag. This isn’t The Testing, when I could only choose three items to keep me alive. Now I can take whatever I can fit in my bag. I turn and walk toward bins containing canisters of explosive powders and chemicals. Seeing the explosives makes me think of Enzo. I can’t help wondering if he is still alive and whether the medical team will be able to keep him that way and repair the damage he has suffered. I hope Raffe will have the answers to those questions when next we speak. Until then, I cannot let the memory of Enzo or the guilt I feel stop me from doing what must be done.

  Stepping closer, I inspect the explosives and other containers on the shelves.

  My insides curl as I carefully add three canisters to my cache. Finally I turn and look at the technological devices. My fingers itch to take them all, since these are the tools I understand best. But my bag is almost full. So I take three tracking devices that are tuned to the same frequency as the monitor in my bag. I am not sure if Raffe will be able to meet Tomas and me or if I will come into contact with Zeen. But if I see them and we are all forced to separate during the hours and days ahead, these devices will give me a way to find them. After one last look around, I lift the strap of my bag onto my shoulder and walk out of the room, hoping I have not left behind anything I need.

  Aside from the sound of my boots against the gray tile, everything is quiet as I head for the stairs. On the third-floor landing, I pause when the murmur of voices reaches me. I’m tempted to walk down the hall to see if anyone there knows whether the president really did postpone her Debate Chamber proposal and if the search for Michal continues. But as much as that information would help me understand what is happening with the president, I cannot afford the time or the risk of being seen by too many people. I continue down the stairs.

  I am crossing the lobby when I see the front doors open. Several officials in ceremonial purple and red walk in. The two Safety officials near the front desk stand as one last person enters.

  President Collindar.

  There is nowhere to hide.

  Stepping to the side, I tilt my head down in what I hope looks like a respectful gesture. My hair fans out on either side of my face, giving me some cover, but when the president looks my way, I see her eyebrows rise. I hold my breath. Has she heard about Enzo? Will she decide that my being on the run makes me more of a liability than an ally?

  “Official Dresden.” Though the president is addressing one of the Safety officials, she takes a step toward me. “Can I see the list of all personnel who have checked in tonight?”

  The official takes the clipboard off the desk and hands it to her. She looks down at the list and then back at me. “It’s nice to see that so many of our staff are dedicated enough to overcome the concern Official Gallen’s disappearance has caused. The increased number of Safety officials that I have just ordered to participate in the evening patrols should also ease fears. Don’t you think?”

  When the Safety official agrees, President Collindar hands the clipboard back to him. “I’m hopeful this upheaval will be smoothed over and things will return to normal. We need everyone from the Debate Chamber to focus clearly on our proposal.” With an almost imperceptible nod in my direction, the president turns and heads down the hall. “Fredrik, what can we do to convince Nigel’s department to vote with us? I’ve heard they are wavering and might be willing to come to our side if given proper incentive.” Her officials trail after her, debating ideas, and I head for the door.

  As I step out of the building, a black skimmer passes by. The white seal on the door marks it as a Safety and Security vehicle. One of the extra patrols President Collindar just warned me about. The fact that she chose to give me such a warning speaks volumes. Some of the Safety officials who roam the streets are doing so to reassure the Tosu population. But there must be others who are searching for me.

  I duck back into the entryway alcove and stay there until the skimmer has disappeared down the street. Then I head for my bicycle. Coasting, I approach the roadway that leads to the building where Tomas is waiting and only turn when I see no one is around.

  I click on my flashlight when I walk into the building, shine it down the hallway, and whisper Tomas’s name. He doesn’t appear. My heart stills. I whisper again. Panic resonates in my voice. Finally I see someone step out of a doorway on the right, far down the corridor. Tomas.

  “Sorry,” he says, walking through the shadows toward me. “I decided to see if there was anything on this floor we could use. Did you find what you needed?”

  “I saw the president. She warned me additional Safety officials have been added to the evening patrols. We have to be careful when we go to the next location. Once we get there, we should be safe.”

  “Where are we going?” Tomas’s hand finds mine in the dark.

  “Someplace no patrols would go.”

  Tomas exits first. He waits several moments before motioning for me to follow. Then we climb onto our bikes and ride. Twice we stop and crouch behind bushes or duck around the edges of buildings to wait for a skimmer to pass us by.

  The buildings we pass grow smaller. Tomas asks if I am sure we are going the correct way. I know he is concerned that we have veered to the north. The same direction as the University. I check the Transit Communicator and assure him that we are on course.

  When my front wheel hits several holes in the pavement, I know I have found the street I have been searching for. In the dim moonlight, I study the dilapidated, graffiti-laden houses on either side of the roadway to find the one I entered two days ago.

  “That one,” I say, pointing to the small one-story structure. After taking a closer look, I pick up my bike and walk carefully across the grass to the back of the house. Tomas does the same.

  Tomas leans his bicycle against the wall and then walks to the door and eases it open a crack. Just enough for us to squeeze ourselves and our bicycles through.

  We search the house as I did the first time I was here. Aside from several puddles of water in the bedrooms where the ceiling leaks, the place looks the same. Tomas turns the faucet on in the bathroom to check if it works. The water that runs into the sink is tinged with orange. I find the pile of clothing in the same place I left it, and when I pry up the floorboards I see the folder I hid there.

  My muscles tremble as I place my bag and the folder in the corner of the room. Tomas pulls a blanket out of his bag and spreads it in the middle of the dust-coated floor. Since the windows are boarded up, we leave the flashlight on as we sit down. I lean my head on Tomas’s shoulder and snuggle close. There is so much we need to talk about, decisions to be made—but now that I am relatively safe, fatigue makes it hard to speak. Tomas doesn’t seem to want to talk either. Instead, he just holds me. I don’t know how long we sit like this. Ten minutes? Twenty? All the while I keep my eyes closed and imagine us back in Five Lakes, in a time and place that made se
nse. But as much as I try to hold on to the idea of us sitting near the fountain in the Five Lakes square, surrounded by all things familiar, the images of Michal’s bloodless face, Kerrick’s and Marin’s corpses, and Enzo’s burned body will not stay out of my mind.

  When I shiver, Tomas holds me tighter and asks, “Are you okay?”

  I shrug and burrow closer, but Tomas won’t allow me to hide. His hand lifts my chin so that I am forced to look at him. In his eyes I see the same sadness I feel. But, I also see love. His lips brush mine. Once. Twice. The gentleness of his touch makes me want to cry.

  Tomas leans back and looks at me again. His fingers brush my cheek, wiping away a tear I wasn’t aware had fallen. When his lips find mine again, they are still gentle, but instead of kindness, the kiss shimmers with desire. I snake a hand around the back of his neck and pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

  There is nothing more I want than to feel this way forever. I allow myself two more kisses before easing away from his touch. If it were just about this moment, I would allow myself to get lost in Tomas’s embrace. If it were just about us, I would forget what tomorrow could bring. But I want a future that can happen only if we are successful in what we intend to do.

  My breathing comes fast and my pulse pounds as I look up at Tomas, worried he’ll be upset that I pulled away. But his face is filled with tenderness as he asks again, “Are you okay?” The same question, but this time he’s asking about us.

 
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