Kill School: Slice (27 page)

“I wish I had a Shah,” I mumble.

Demi stops with a kind look in her eyes.

“You do,” she says.

Demi hugs my legs and stifles a sob. I glance over at Burke
who is packing up the books in his bunk. He is my Shah.

I slide down the bunk, and almost end up on Vanessa’s head
as she emerges from hers. We walk to the showers together with Mateo. Erwin
steps in front of our path, but he ignores us and follows Tane and Mal across
the field toward campus. I don’t like that those three are together.

After I
shower, I put on my own clothes. My white shirt. My mom’s vest. I smell her all
around me. I put my pocketknife and switchblade in the vest pocket. I take the
pine needle and the glass shooter that Vanessa gave me and carefully place it
in the other pocket. I take the bracelet with my token out and fix it to my
wrist. I am ready to go home.

All twenty campers assemble in the common room before we
head to the dining hall together. Seeing everyone in his or her home clothes
and out of uniform makes reality sink in. We are going home.

Demi looks beautiful in her red dress, a stark contrast
next to Shah’s dirty shirt and well-worn jeans. Vanessa, once again in her
fancy turquoise dress, looks embarrassed. Mateo wears a cardigan with a skinny tie
and loose fitting black pants.

Burke winds between the campers. He’s wearing a beautiful
wool sweater with a wide decorative circle surrounding the neck. A knit hat
with earflaps and a pompom on the top hides his blond hair. He looks adorable
and rugged at the same time.

Burke opens the door for us to exit.

“Ready or not, you are going home,” he says with a smile.

I wait for the rest of the kids to go out. I want to be the
last one, so that I can walk over to the dining hall with Burke.

“After you,” Burke says.

I step onto the porch and survey the scene while Burke
locks the cabin. The fires are mostly out. A building on campus still smokes.
Guards are everywhere. In the sky. Patrolling the paths. Standing by the lake.
Helicopters come and go overhead, most likely bringing in more guards and
escorting the Regulators.

“Take this,” Burke says. He hands me the key to the cabin.
“I have a spare.”

“”Why would I need this?” I look at the key in my hand.
It’s an ancient metal one complete with a red-jeweled key ring.

“In case something happens.” Burke touches my bracelet with
the token inside. “You’ll be safe in my extra room.”

Suddenly I’m scared that I will never see him again.

“Burke,” I say.

We move together at once. His arms wrap around my shoulders
and he pulls me into his chest. The soft warmth of his sweater tickles my
cheek. I wrap my arms around his waist and slide my hands into his back
pockets.

“I want to kiss you,” Burke murmurs.

“As long as it’s not goodbye,” I say.

His lips touch mine in a gentle kiss. I feel his sweetness
in my mouth. An ache comes over me, one that I have never felt before. It’s as
if I have swallowed the sun and it’s beaming from inside my stomach.

“We have to go,” Burke whispers. He leaves my lips tender
and warm.

Burke takes my hand and we descend the steps of the cabin
together. He sticks his hands in his pockets and walks by my side deep in
thought. I can’t imagine spending a week without him, not knowing if he’s safe.

“I want to go to with you,” I say. “In search of the lake.”

“I wish you could,” Burke says. He loops his fingers around
mine. We are not far behind Demi, Shah, and the others. Shah has his arm across
Demi’s back as if he’s holding her up.

“You are my Shah,” I say.

Burke smiles and laughs as we watch Demi and Shah ahead of
us. Her steps are steady and strong. I get the feeling she will survive the
death of her brother. I don’t know if I will.

“You are my Demi,” Burke says. He stops and pulls me toward
him. “No, you are not,” he says. His free hand touches my cheek. “You are much
more to me. You are my Aria.”

I feel a stinging in my eyes and look away.

“I can’t be without you for a week,” I say without looking
at Burke. “I’ve grown used to your company.”

“We’ll get through it,” Burke says. “Your mother will keep
you safe.”

“What about you?” I ask.

“Me?” Burke laughs. “Vladimir will keep me safe. I
promise.”

We enter the dining hall and follow the rest of the kids to
our spot at the table by the window. The hall is emptier than usual. I wonder
where they’ve put the dead. Is there a morgue in Barstow’s science building? I
remember that my slice teacher was missing from the auditorium.

“Burke, where’s Messier?” I ask. “Was he…” I can’t say the
word
killed
.

“He’s with Jack,” Burke says.

I don’t ask him for details. I didn’t know Messier that
well, but Burke did. His frozen expression and steady gait tell me that he’s
trying to cover his pain. A few days ago, I would have thought him cold
hearted, to react so meaninglessly to the death of a friend.

Now, I know him so much better. He’s hiding the pain,
burying it deep inside his soul. The pain will become part of who he is. It
will come out. In a few days, or a few weeks. Maybe when another student does
something wrong, Burke will pummel his ribs like he did to Erwin. 

Burke and I take the remaining two seats. Burke sits next
to Demi and Shah and I am in between Vanessa and Priyanka. Breakfast is cold,
cereal and an assortment of fruit, bread and jam and orange juice to drink.
None of it looks appetizing. I can’t force myself to eat.

The conversation is glum. People are recollecting what they
saw and guessing who died. No one mentions Jack’s name, but by the way that
everyone glances at Demi, he’s on our minds. Even Erwin and his two cronies,
Mal and Tane are subdued.

Vanessa pops a couple of grapes in her mouth.

“You think we’ll have to go to school during our week off?”
she asks through chews.

“I hope not,” I say. “I can’t imagine facing all of our
classmates.”

“I’m going to stay home,” Mateo says. “I don’t care what’s
required.”

“Let’s meet up when we get back,” Vanessa says. “We can
meet at Mateo’s house. It’s big and there’s a high wall around it.”

“It’s to keep us in,” Mateo says. “Not to keep others out.
Although, it’s nice to have a wall nowadays.”

The conversation turns to our parents. Most of the kids are
excited about their reunions. I’m scared to confront my mother. I have so many
questions for her. I’m terrified of seeing Sebastian and even more terrified of
not seeing him. I still don’t know if he’s dead. He could be held in a cell
deep below Kill School.

I shut out visions of Sebastian chained to a wall and focus
on my father. I need to be in my dad’s reassuring arms, to feel his genuine
type of love. My father with his violin. I miss him the most.

After
breakfast, Burke walks with us down the path toward the stadium. We reach the
bridge that crosses the steaming gorge. Guards stand on either side of the
bridge, checking everyone as they walk past. Once on the other side, we won’t
be able to return for an entire week. I feel frantic, as if I’ve lost something
or left someone behind.

“I can’t leave,” I say. “Not yet.”

Burke presses his hand into the small of my back.

“Go on,” he says. “I’ll stay with you until your parents
arrive. Vladimir and I won’t leave until the last camper is gone.”

Burke walks to the front of our group and speaks to the
guards blocking the bridge. I watch Burke talk. He’s relaxed, yet serious,
bringing the guards in to our nightmare with a few choice words.

The guards wave us forward with words of concern and
encouragement. One by one, we pass the guards onto the bridge. When it is my
turn, the nearest guard examines my bruises, puts a hand on my shoulder, and
tells me to be strong.

Another guard grabs my elbow and pulls me forward.

“We don’t have all day, muck-rake,” the guard says to the
other guard. She looks at Burke. “One of yours?”

“One of mine,” Burke says. “And get your hands off her.”

“We have a lot of kids who want to go home,” the guard says
as she releases my elbow. “There’s no time for feelings.”

The guard pushes me on the bridge and then reaches for
Vanessa.

I step onto the bridge to a freezing cold gust of wind and
a boiling blast of steam. The wind howls and whips around us in curling
cyclones. Clouds cover the sky, hiding the sun, and a light mist hits our
faces. We all huddle together as we walk across the bridge to the other side.
Once again, we are a team, feeling the closeness of our bond through the pain
of the weather and our experiences the night before.

I barely notice a group of kids standing in the middle of
the bridge. When Erwin yells in anguish and rushes forward, I see that they are
standing in a semi-circle around a girl. The girl is twirling in circles on the
bungee jumping platform. If she’s not careful, she’ll fall off the edge.

“That’s Jane,” Vanessa says.

“She’s going to jump,” someone shouts.

Children watching Jane clog the bridge. A light rain and
snow mixture begins to fall; splashing on Jane’s upraised face and open palms.
She looks giddy and gleeful as she turns, faster and faster, in circles.

“Jane, come down,” Erwin shouts as he reaches for her. “You
don’t have a cord.”

“I don’t need a cord,” Jane shouts back. “I’m going to
fly.”

Erwin steps on the platform with wobbly legs. He extends
his shaking arms toward Jane.

Jane moves closer to the edge. I hold my breath, willing
her not to jump. Burke pushes forward to stand with the counselor from Jane’s
cabin. They both try to negotiate her back down. Jane’s cabin is emerald. The
same as Jack’s. She lost many cabin mates last night.

Vladimir rushes forward.

“Burke,” he shouts. “Get to the far lever.”

The wind whips Jane’s dark dress in the air and her hair in
her face, making her teeter dangerously close to the edge. Some of the kids snicker
at her pink underwear with dark red hearts. Erwin desperately grabs at Jane’s
dress, to pull it down to the proper place, and to pull her away from the edge
of the platform.

Burke pushes through the crowd to the other side of the
platform.

“Remember me now,” Jane shouts as she glances at
me
.

She faces the gorge and swan dives off the platform.

My scream is lost in a sea of shrieks and howls. Startled
black birds fly out from the gorge. A few dozen microdrones appear in the sky.

Vladimir and Burke pull two levers on either side of the
platform.

With my heart in my throat, I rush to the edge and look
down.

There, Jane lies in a giant net ten feet under the bridge.
She is sobbing and giggling and rolling around. She is alive. The net encircles
her like a fish. Water from the mist or sweat dampens my clothes as I watch Jane.

My heart settles down when I see the metal arms bring Jane
back on the bridge. Erwin grasps for her as Burke, Vladimir and the other counselor
frees her from the net. Once Jane is released, several guards come forward to
escort her off the bridge. Erwin follows her and tries to get the guards to
leave her alone.

Vanessa, Mateo, and I watch the guards push through the
crowd, Erwin following at their heels.

Jane. Invisible Jane. We are immortal, but not invincible. Her
skull would have been crushed on the rocks if the net hadn’t broken her fall. Death
is so much more violent now than it used to be. No more chronic illness. No
more drawn out deaths. Now, all death involves pain and most deaths involve
bloodshed. The hopeless feeling in my stomach makes it hard to move forward.

The wind picks up and the rain and snow mixture gets
heavier, turning more into snow than rain. I don’t mind. The burn of the cold snow
on my exposed flesh reminds me I am alive. It takes a few minutes for the kids
to start moving again. Soon, we are at the end of the bridge and checking out
through another row of guards.

Finally, we leave the bridge. Swarms of people, having
arrived from the Vactrain, cross the snow. Reporters and camera operators.
Helicopters and throngs of parents. Two rows of guards separate the campers
from the parents. Parents yell for their kids and wave when they see them.
Guards shout them down and tell them to keep moving.

Burke keeps us together as we enter the stadium.

A guard instructs Burke to take us onto the stadium’s field
and wait as a group for our parents. We stand in dozens of groups of twenty.
Everyone is going home from first to fourth week students. No one will be
graduating this week.

Parents filter into the field. Cries of gratitude and sobs
of despair fill the air. I am sure some parents are finding out their children
didn’t make it. Several adults wander over to us to collect their kids. Aisha
and some of the other kids leave immediately. Priyanka runs toward her father.

Mr. Wassillie, wearing a multicolored hat and scarf,
approaches us. His eyes are bloodshot and puffy. His left hand is wrapped in a
bandage.

“Burke, there you are,” Mr. Wassillie says. He pats Burke
on the shoulder with his bandaged hand. “Regulator Krish has been looking for
you. Demi, Regulator Azarian waiting for you in his private box.”