Graduation Day (The Testing 3)

Another shot.

Four.

Kerrick spots me and yells.

Three.

The girl sees me and smiles.

Two.

I press the match hard against the strike pad and pull.

One.

The match flares. A gunshot makes me jump. The bullet slams into the ground to my right as I touch the flame to the paper fuse. The second I see the flame traveling up the paper, I scramble to my feet and run.

Another shot. I stumble and pitch forward as pain sears my calf. I swallow the scream that wants to erupt from inside me and tamp down my body’s protest as I climb to my feet. Marin calls out to Kerrick. Tomas yells for me to hurry. I glance behind me and realize too much time has passed. The fuse should have ignited the powder. The plan didn’t work, and Kerrick and the girl are coming.

I will myself forward.

“Come on, Cia.”

One step. Two. Faster.

“What’s that?” I hear Kerrick yell.

The smell of sulfur reaches me. I hear another gunshot and someone starts to cough. I don’t look back. I just keep moving one boot in front of the other, clenching my teeth against the pain that would otherwise bring me to my knees. Tomas already has the exit door open. His eyes are bright with fear as he holds out his hand, beckoning to me. Someone is still running behind me. I stumble through the door and Tomas slams it shut. His fingers fly over the control panel. The light above the door shifts from green to red, and now it can only be opened from this side.

A smart move, although one glance through the door’s glass pane tells me it wasn’t necessary. Kerrick is on the ground twenty feet from the exit. His body jerks as if connected to a stream of electricity. I can see the agony on his face as the toxins he breathed in take over his body. Shut down his systems. End his life.

Chapter 10

I FORCE MYSELF to watch Kerrick die. No matter the reason, I helped caused this. I do not know anything about Kerrick save his name, his field of study, and the fact that he wanted to harm me.

Tears swell behind my eyes and sear my throat as I try to hold them back. But there is no denying them. The death of the boy, the pain burning my calf, and the knowledge that more people will die before this week is done are impossible to suppress.

Tomas’s arms pull me close. He tries to make me look away, but I can’t. My eyes stay focused on the scene behind the glass as feelings storm through me. Sorrow. Despair. Fear. Kerrick’s still body swims in and out of focus as tears continue to flow. I feel Tomas’s hands touch my injured leg. Fingers probe my wound. The screams I have been holding back claw out of my throat.

“I’m sorry, Cia,” Tomas says. His voice soothes even as his hands continue to touch the wound and cause pain. “We need to clean and bandage this. It looks like the bullet only grazed your calf, but it’s bleeding pretty bad. There’s a first aid room just down the hall. I think there should be something in there that I can give you for the pain.”

“It’s not that bad,” I lie. “We should get out of here while we can. I don’t know where the girl went, but she could be nearby.”

Tomas looks toward the greenhouse and shakes his head. “She’s not going to be coming after us. Marin’s in there.”

Despite the angry protest of my leg, I push to my knees. I follow the direction of Tomas’s gaze, squint through the haze of smoke that still lingers, and see Marin sprawled among a group of small shrubs. Marin. A name that until minutes ago I’d never heard and now will never forget.

“Do you know how to turn on the irrigation system?” I ask, concentrating on the smoke instead of Marin’s lifeless face. The plants inside are too green and healthy and the air too humid for everything to catch fire. Only the plants that were directly under the flare from the black powder burned, and while I doubt that they still burn, turning on the irrigation system will ensure that the fire goes out. It should also help dissipate the poisonous fumes that linger in the air.

“Stay here.”

“No.” I struggle to my feet. “I’ll come with you.” Despite the pain that moving causes, I don’t want to be alone.

Tomas slides an arm around my shoulder and helps me walk down the hall to the control booth. I ease into a wooden chair and watch as Tomas works the controls.

It takes him three tries to remember the sequence of buttons but eventually water sprays from pipes that hang from the greenhouse ceiling. After several minutes, Tomas turns off the water, hits a button marked Fan, and says, “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” I ask.