Hardwired (18 page)

Thirty-seven

Not once had I ever seen Chris speechless. He was always the one with a quick joke aimed at calming me down and keeping me sane. But there he was, standing in the middle of the dark corridor, staring at this twig of a girl with absolutely nothing to say.

At least his mouth was closed; mine kept dropping open, no words, not a single sound ever coming out.

“I found him standing outside his room, staring at the bunk bed, talking to somebody. At first I thought it was you and Chris, but the room was empty. There was nobody there.”

I closed my eyes and willed the memories away. Tyler had done the same thing; he would slip into dark trances, muttering unthinkable things, then cock his head as if listening to a reply that no one but him could hear.

“I reached for Cam's hand. I thought I could pull him back from wherever he was, but he lost it on me, pushed me aside and started screaming. He accused me of things I never did, called me names I didn't recognize. They let him beat him, did you know that? His roommate—they let his roommate beat him, on purpose. The guards actually placed bets on how soon he'd snap.”

I shook my head, swallowing back my anger. Ms. Tremblay hadn't mentioned that the guards placed wagers on it.

“He laughed,” Carly continued. “It was this twisted sound of hatred. And then he turned on me. He wrapped his hands around my neck and swore he'd kill me.”

I stepped forward, my hand going to the zipper of her sweatshirt. Yanking it down, I pushed the fabric aside. Her neck was bruised, deep purple welts marring her skin.

“What else did he do?” I asked. The words rumbled from my chest, my anger riding so close to the surface that I wondered if I'd finally snap. If I'd survived all their tests only to lose it now.

“I started crying, rattling off every single memory I could think of, hoping he'd realize who I was and let me go. Nothing seemed to work, and his grip just tightened until I mentioned Olivia and Tyler.”

“What about Tyler?”

“I reminded him of what happened to your brother, how Tyler had given in to them, let this place win. Cam was better than that, stronger than that, and I told him so.”

I stepped back, my body meeting the hard, unforgiving wall behind me. Tyler wasn't weak; he was the strongest person I knew. “They broke him. This place broke him.”

“He let me go then,” Carly continued, ignoring my ramblings. “He mumbled an apology and sank down in the corner. You should've seen him. I couldn't get him to move, couldn't even get him to lift his head off of his knees. He was gone, completely gone. I told him I'd be back, that he was safe now and we'd come to take him home.” She turned and stared back at the darkened room. “They deserved it, Lucas, for what they did to Tyler. For what they did to Cam. For what I know they did to you.”

Chris and I stared at her. She'd killed the guards?

“So you came back up to the lounge?” Chris asked. There was no accusation in his voice, no hatred or disgust for what she'd just admitted to doing. “Where did you get the table leg?”

“From me,” Ryan said.

Chris and I spun around at the sound of his voice, each of us instinctively moving in front of Carly. “What are you still doing here?” I asked.

“And how much did you hear?” Chris added.

“All the exit doors are locked,” Ryan replied. “And I heard everything, but it's not like I didn't already know. I was in there with her.” He paused and waved the twins forward. “We all were.”

I looked over his shoulder at the twins. Their heads were bowed, their hands fidgeting nervously with the cuffs of their sweatshirts. I silently willed them to look up, to meet my eyes for a fraction of a second, just so I could apologize.

“There were ten of us and five of them, but they had weapons,” Ryan continued. “We may have thrown the first punches, but we were smart enough to back off and hide in the corner while everything played out around us.

“Within twenty minutes, the guards had it under control. They were pissed about what we'd done. By the time Carly got here, they were screwing with us, kicking the unconscious and firing their Tasers for no reason. They thought it'd be fun to ‘scare some sense into us,' or so they said.”

“That's when I hit the guard with the table leg,” Carly said. “They didn't hear me come in. It was dark and they were laughing, going on about how they'd done society a favor. Ryan was sitting in the corner, and those two boys over there were hiding behind him. The guards were yanking on Ryan's arms, trying to pull him away from the wall so they could get at the twins.”

I turned and looked at the twins. They were shaking, and the entire front of their jeans was soaked with what I presumed was their own piss.

“There was a stun gun sitting on the floor by the door, and I picked it up, not even knowing if it'd work,” Carly said, and I remembered the Taser I'd taken off Ms. Tremblay and then lost in the midst of the chaos. “I pulled the trigger, and the guard trying to drag Ryan away fell to the ground and started shaking.”

“And that's when
I
hit him with the table leg,” Ryan explained.

“And the others?” Chris asked. Ryan had only admitted to killing one guard.

Ryan shrugged, his reply seeming to be an attempt to give us all an alibi rather than answer Chris's question. “It's hard to see in the dark. Who knows how they died or who killed them.”

“And what about the guard in the isolation unit?” I asked Carly.

“I wanted to check on Cam, but I knew you wouldn't let me, would insist we wait for Chris before making our move. So I smashed the lights in the hallway to buy myself some time, confuse you. I didn't mean to kill that guard, just stun him like he did you. But after I did it, he fell down and hit his head.”

I turned around and stared at Chris, waiting for him to reveal his role in all this. He just laughed and said, “Don't look at me. My only job was to cut the power permanently, which I did.”

I picked up the keys I'd thrown to the ground, turned around, and made my way back to into the lounge, back to the bodies littering the floor.

Ryan and the twins were behind me, whispering questions about what I planned to do and if I would contact the police. I laid my flashlight on the floor by the door, illuminating as much as the room as possible, then motioned for everyone to hand over their lights and any other keys. One by one I put everything back in the guards' utility belts, then motioned for Ryan and the twins to take their boots off and put them back on the guards' feet. As far as I was concerned, none of us had stepped foot in this room.

“No keys, but I found more flashlights,” Mrs. Tremblay said as I stepped back into the hall. Her eyes scanned the area in search of the guards and kids I'd told her I was going back for. “Where's everybody else?”

I stood there silently for a second, carefully weighing my words. “There are five dead guards in there. The medic too.” I paused and motioned to Ryan and the twins. “The three of us came here looking for keys, and that's where we found these guys. They're the only ones who survived. You can check the lounge yourself if you don't believe me.”

“What happened?” Ms. Tremblay asked, looking over my shoulder to see inside the room.

“From the looks of it, the guards panicked and lashed out at anything that moved, including each other.” I turned to Ryan, waiting for him to nod in agreement.

“I didn't touch anybody,” Ryan said, confirming my lie. “I hid in the corner with these two, hoping someone would eventually come back for us. They didn't touch anybody either.”

“It should've been me,” Ms. Tremblay said. “It should've been me who made sure you were safe, who got you all out of this room, not Lucas and Chris.”

I shrugged. It didn't matter who'd got them out, so long as they were alive.

“I'm sorry about what happened to your brother, Carly,” Ms. Tremblay said.

Carly didn't respond, just turned around and walked out of the room after Chris. I knew what she was thinking; my mind was entrenched in the same thought. “Sorry” didn't bring them back. It was only a word, a stupid two-syllable word that held absolutely no power
.

Thirty-eight

Joe was standing by the Bake Shop's outer fence, his hands twisted through the links. The four boys he'd brought with him were fanned out to his left. But not Nick. No, Nick had scaled the fence and was hacking at the razor wire with what looked like a pocketknife.

Joe's eyes skirted over the body slung over my shoulder. I'd gone back for Cam. I'd promised Carly I'd get him out, and after everything that had happened, it seemed like the right thing to do.

Carly was beside me, Chris half holding her up as we shuffled our way to the gate. She'd started crying again the second I'd picked up Cam, the reality of all she'd lost settling in.

“What happened?” Nick dropped to the ground and made his way to the gate too. Struggling under Cam's dead weight, I pressed the keys up against the fence until Nick was able to reach through and snag them. He held them up one by one until Ms. Tremblay nodded, then shoved that key into the lock and pushed the gate wide.

I took one step out into the open and lowered Cam down to the ground by Joe's feet. “I said I'd get him out, and I did.”

Joe let out a wail so broken and full of pain that I wondered if his hatred of this facility and everything it stood for ran deeper than I'd originally thought. I should've asked, but to be honest, at that point I really didn't care. I knew he had questions; I could see them brimming in his eyes. I'd explain everything later, when I was hundreds of miles away from this place, away from the memory of Carly's cries and Cam's body hanging there, his lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling of the place that had ruined us all. But not yet. Adding another layer of agony to an already painful situation would literally kill me.

Joe knelt down beside Cam's body and pressed an ear to his chest, listening for signs of life I knew he'd never find.

“He's gone.” I started to sway, mental and physical exhaustion sweeping over me.

“Lucas? You okay?” Nick reached out to steady me.

I shook my head, my legs nearly giving out underneath me. I was so far from okay, it was insane.

“The others—”

“I don't give a shit about the others right now,” Nick interrupted. “Tyler was my best friend, and you're his brother. I signed onto this plan for you. Only you. Are
you
okay?”

“No.” It was the truth, and it felt amazing to finally admit it. I hadn't been okay since the day I'd found Tyler dead in the backyard, since the day they'd taken him away, and this stupid mission had only made things worse.

“Anne?” Joe stood up and walked toward Ms. Tremblay. “What happened?”

She looked from Joe to me, as if seeking my permission. Or perhaps my forgiveness. I'd give her the words, if that was what she needed, but she'd be an idiot to think it'd help. My forgiveness would never be able to erase her own guilt.

“I'll do anything I can to help you prove that this facility, and all the others, need to be shut down,” she said to Joe. “You have my word.”

I nodded. But in the end, it was of little consequence to me. I'd pretty much lost everything anyway.

Nick's gaze drifted to the building behind me, and I turned in time to see Ryan emerging from the door. The twins stumbled out behind him, shielding their eyes as they struggled to adjust to the first daylight they'd seen in a while. They were bleeding and bruised, physically holding each other upright.

“Who are they?” Joe asked, reaching for the rifle he'd propped against the fence.

“Kids exactly like me. Exactly like Cam and Tyler. Difference is, they get to go home.” I turned my attention to Nick. “I'm ready to go home. We're
all
ready to go home.”

Epilogue

It never changes. Night after night I relive it all over again. The sounds, the smells, the gut-wrenching panic that eats at my insides until I think I'm going to die. It's easier during the day, when I have school and homework to distract me. But even then, the memory never truly fades; it just tucks itself into the back of my mind, lying in wait until my body gives in and finally falls asleep.

I rub at my eyes and stare down at the blur of words I've scribbled across my paper. It started off as the essay for my college applications, a quick six hundred words on what “sets me apart” from the other applicants. How am I supposed to answer that without scaring the crap out of every admittance counselor?

I slam my laptop closed and sulk out the back door, taking a seat in the exact same lawn chair that Tyler died in. More than once I've found myself here, wondering if there was anything I could've done to save Tyler and struggling to find my own sense of peace. It never comes.

“Hey.” The sound of Carly's voice startles me, and I whip my head around, trying for a smile. I know how hard it must be for her most of the time, but day after day she still shows up at my house, asking me how I'm doing in school and talking about her friends. She doesn't ask about Chris or Ryan; it's as if the simple mention of their names will toss her back into the world of darkness she's just recently learned how to escape.

“Bad day?” Carly asks, and I nod. She doesn't need any more explanation than that. She was there; she understands.

“Come here,” I say as I hold my arms out wide. She settles into my lap, her tiny hands winding around my neck. This is my favorite time of day, the only time I find peace—Carly in my arms, me knowing that she's safe. That they didn't break her too.

The Bake Shop and the other testing facilities were shut down a month after we got home. Ms. Tremblay kept her promise—she took Joe's information to Washington. To
the Government Task Force for Violent Crimes
. To the press. She didn't stop until every single one of the facilities was shut down. There is one still physically standing, but its halls are empty; the only people who ever pass through its gates are freelance reporters looking for a story to sell.

And through it all, through the countless interviews she's been forced into and the testimony she's given, Ms. Tremblay has never once sold us out. Never once indicated that Carly, Chris, or I might have had anything to do with the events of that day.

Carly's thumb circles my palm, and I pull her in tighter to my chest. Even if things never go back to how they used to be, even if the memory of that time and all we lost never fades, at least I have her. And right now, she's all I need
.