The Testing (The Testing 1)

I need to fire.

I need to kill.

But I can’t. No matter how much I want to succeed, I know that Dr. Barnes was wrong to choose me. Because I can’t look into the eyes of an unarmed man and fire. No matter what answer I give to this test, I know that ultimately it will cause me to fail.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the door to my right open. Lowering my weapon, I turn and see Symon standing in the entryway with his gun raised. Behind him are two more men. Both armed. And their weapons are all pointed at me.

“Put your gun down on the table, Cia. After your surviving this long, it would be a shame for it all to end here.” Symon takes a step toward me. His shirt is torn. Blood and char streak his pants. He must have still been inside Dr. Barnes’s house when it exploded. The hand that holds the gun poised to fire at me does not tremble. Symon’s eyes are flat and cold. He will not think twice about ending my life. I know I have no choice. My fingers tremble as I set the gun on the table next to me. Nodding, he calls over his shoulder. “Guard the elevator and the stairs. The president might have sent people here, too. Once we have a plan in place, we’ll be leaving.”

The two men hurry down the hall as Symon turns his attention to Dr. Barnes. “When you missed our meeting at your house, Jedidiah, I was worried. The person who attacked me and the bomb that went off there concerned me even more. The students here on campus have been leading an unauthorized assault on the officials Professor Holt assigned to keep the campus locked down.”

That’s what the fighting I heard outside was. Ian must have convinced the rebel students to turn against Symon.

Dr. Barnes frowns. “I thought you said you had the students under control.”

“I did, but things have started to unravel. Ranetta is refusing to deploy her teams around the city. Instead, she has convinced most of them, including many in my faction, to stay in camp. I don’t think we can wait for the rebels to hit first. If they’re going to be eliminated—”

“The rebels aren’t going to be eliminated,” Dr. Barnes says.

Symon goes still. “I don’t understand.”

Dr. Barnes smiles and puts his hand in his pocket. When he pulls it out, he is holding a small gun. “The president and I have come to an understanding. Too many people know about The Testing, the rebellion, and the Redirection project.”

“The rebels—”

“Not just the rebels, my friend.” Dr. Barnes’s face is filled with sorrow as he steps toward Symon. I am forgotten while they study each other. I slowly reach for my gun as Dr. Barnes says, “The time has come for all three to come to an end. The country is better for them, but they have served their purpose. I wish you had died in the explosion I created. After Ms. Vale’s heroics, I thought it appropriate. And then I wouldn’t have to do this.”

Symon understands the words a moment too late. I jump at the crack of gunfire. Symon reels back. Blood blooms on his shoulder, just inches from his heart, as he screams and fires back. Dr. Barnes shouts and another gunshot explodes as I turn to flee.

A familiar figure fills the doorway, blocking my path. Sweat glistens off Griffin’s head and he raises a large black gun. This time I don’t think. I pull the trigger. Surprise crosses Griffin’s face and he grabs the door. I fire again. Red spatters his face. As he falls, I run.

I race down the hall. Three shots ring out from the room behind me. Someone inside is still alive. At the end of the hall, I see the outline of a man raising a gun. I run to the left, toward the double doors, as he fires. I slip back into the lecture hall, close the door, and lock it. The lock will not keep them out for long, but it buys me a few seconds to figure out what I need to do next.

The room is black as night. The door handle rattles. I run my hand along the chairs beside me to keep my balance as I navigate the stairs as fast as I dare. There is shouting on the other side of the door. Two voices. Symon’s is the loudest as he yells for the other to stand back. I reach the bottom of the stairs and hurry across the aisle between the stage and the front row of chairs as five gunshots slam into the door.

I duck down behind the chairs as the door crashes open. Lights flicker to life above me. I hold my breath and crouch as low as I can while still remaining on my feet so I am ready to flee. To my right is the stage where Dr. Barnes once stood. The podium is there. Far to the left I see a narrow door. Too far away for me to reach now, but maybe I can find a way.

Someone is on the stairs. Another is near the back of the hall, moving down the aisle. From the hall outside the room, I hear more footsteps. The other man Symon brought with him? Two against one is bad odds. But three against one? I tighten my hold on the gun. I will only get one chance to fire. Whoever is with Symon will see me the minute I rise. He will fire too. I will die. But so will Symon. I will not allow myself to die without a fight.

The person coming down the stairs is moving slower that the one in the back. His footsteps sound heavier. Like a man who is injured. He will be my target.

A voice shouts from the hallway. Whoever is out there will be here in moments. Then I will face three opponents. I think of those I love and have the whisper of Tomas’s name in my heart as I swallow down my fear and stand. I was right. Symon stands three quarters of the way down the side aisle. His eyes widen in surprise as he sees me. Blood coats the hand holding the gun that takes aim.

The footsteps in the hall stop. Three figures appear in the door as I squeeze the trigger. Sound explodes around me. Symon drops to the ground and rolls down the last two stairs to the front aisle as searing pain pierces my right arm. I turn toward the man who shot me and fire again, but mi

ss as he darts to the left. And I’m not sure if I would have hit him anyway. The burning ache in my arm is making it hard to keep a grip on the gun.

Symon’s man turns and takes aim as a voice calls my name.

Tomas.

Another shot cracks the air. Symon’s man stumbles backward into one of the chairs. Blood seeps from the wound in his chest as he sinks to the ground.

My arm is on fire. The world spins in and out of focus, but none of that matters as Tomas races down the stairs toward me. His clothes are covered in dirt and a ragged cut runs down one side of his face, but he is here. Whole. Alive.

Over Tomas’s shoulder I see two other people running down the stairs. One is Will. The other, Zeen. I look behind them for Stacia but don’t see her. Did Tomas have to leave her behind because of her injury? Or is she looking to make sure Dr. Barnes is dead?

I am about to ask when my brother says, “I want my Transit Communicator back.”