Graduation Day (The Testing 3)

“This house is covered with graffiti,” I say, handing him the flashlight. “I’m just going to add a little more.”

Tomas helps shift the door wide enough so I can slip out. The night is quiet. Clutching the pencils, I walk slowly to the end of the structure. I peer around the edge. The street is empty. Nothing moves. But that could change at any moment, so I have to do this fast.

I carefully make my way to the front of the house, pick a spot on the stoop that is bare, and begin to draw. My artistic abilities are lacking. The lines I create aren’t filled with the same raw power as Raffe’s. But when I am done, the design in the center of the slightly egg-shaped circle is unmistakable.

Two crossed lightning bolts.

A symbol of power. Of the elimination of ignorance. And of a rebellion that must overcome insurmountable odds in order to succeed. A symbol that combines my past with my future. And the time has come for that future to begin.

Chapter 14

WHEN I GO inside, I try to hail Zeen on the Transit Communicator. Never have I wanted to hear my brother’s voice more. When he doesn’t answer, Tomas convinces me that we should sleep. Lying on the blanket with the Communicator near my head and our hands linked, I listen as Tomas’s breathing evens out and try to clear my mind so that sleep can find me too. But there are too many worries.

Eventually sleep comes. As always, in my dreams I see the faces of those who died during The Testing. I see those who have fallen since, too, as well as the faces of students back home who I know might suffer the same fate if I fail. In the middle of them all is Enzo. His burned hand reaches out to me as Stacia appears behind him. I jerk awake with the image of Stacia’s unreadable smile etched firmly in my mind. It is only the sight of Tomas next to me that allows me to lie back and relax enough to sleep again.

When next I wake, small beams of sunlight peek through the windows. They bathe the room in a pale glow. For a moment I smile. Then I realize Tomas is not on the blanket beside me. I sit up. Both our bags sit next to the ratty sofa. Seeing them makes me feel better as I get up and go in search. I find him standing next to a freshly cleaned counter in the kitchen, cutting up apples he must have taken out of my bag or brought from his own residence. When he sees me, a smile lights his face.

I take the apple slices he offers and realize the counter is not the only thing Tomas has cleared. The broken table has been removed and the floor has been swept.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to tidy up a bit and check out the place, since we might be here for a while.”

We both know most likely we will not be here long at all, but it is nice to pretend if just for a moment that w

e can relax. That this is our house. That we are eating breakfast at the start of a typical day.

“I ran the water in this sink for about five minutes. That seems to have flushed out the worst of the rust buildup. I was worried the noise would wake you. I’m guessing you didn’t sleep very well.”

I put a hand to my hair and smooth it down. “I look that bad?”

“No.” Tomas tucks a strand of wayward hair behind my ear. “But I had trouble sleeping. I figured you might have, too. Yesterday was hard.”

I take Tomas’s hand. “Today will be harder.”

His fingers tighten on mine. “I know.”

We sit on the blanket in the living room with the list of names, the apple slices sitting on a chipped but clean plate between us. I treat my leg wound with more ointment. I’m glad when I see it is not as swollen as yesterday, and rewrap it with a fresh bandage. Then, in between bites of apple, I explain what Raffe told me about the people on the list.

Tomas takes a pencil and crosses out the names that I have indicated, leaving the other five. “These are the ones we have to find.”

“I think that Raffe’s father and Professor Chen have information we need.”

“What kind of information?”

I explain about Raffe’s sister’s disappearance and his search for her and the other students who were Redirected from the University program. “I think The Testing candidates from the first two rounds of tests were Redirected to the same place as Raffe’s sister. If we get these officials to tell us what they know, we might be able to find them.”

As much as I want to end The Testing, I am equally determined to find those who have not lived up to Dr. Barnes’s standards. My eyes glance at the bracelet on my wrist. I no longer have a use for it, but I have yet to take it off. I may have need of it again, and it reminds me of something Ian said on the day I moved into the Government Studies residence. He said the scales of justice symbolize the need for government to balance humanity and kindness with law and justice. Maybe if I find some of the Redirected students alive, it will balance the deaths I have been and will be responsible for.

Taking the recorders out of my bag, I explain, “I think Professor Chen and Official Jeffries know what happens to the Redirected candidates. If we encourage them to talk, we can record the conversation.” That evidence might not sway Dr. Barnes’s most ardent government supporters to end The Testing, but it will give us what we need to find Raffe’s sister and everyone whom Dr. Barnes sent away. “Once we record what they know, we’ll restrain them. The president and her Safety officials can be in charge of them after we have completed our mission.”

Tomas’s eyes darken. “If they are as connected to The Testing as the president believes, keeping them alive isn’t an option. Not if we want The Testing to end.”

“It has to be.”

“Because one of them is Raffe’s father?”

“No.” Because watching Enzo in agony and seeing Kerrick die has taught me something valuable. While I’m capable of doing what is necessary, I’m not Dr. Barnes. “These officials have failed their country, but it’s not up to you and me to determine their punishment. If the president and the leaders of the Debate Chamber want them to be killed for their participation in and perpetuation of The Testing, they will have to be the ones to do it.” I have no doubt that the president will arrange for them to die, but their blood will not be on my hands.

“And what about the other three?” Tomas asks. “Do we detain them, too?”