After the Fear (Young Adult Dystopian) (33 page)

As I look around the twinkling camp, I sigh.

‘What am I going to do?’

It has to be clear from my defeated tone that I’m talking about the bodies I found. Dylan strokes my hair.

‘I don’t like to say it,’ he says softly, ‘but there’s nothing you can do.’

‘You know, I even think the other cities are safe,’ I say, voicing something I’ve been considering for a while. ‘The Shepherds don’t want us to travel, because their secrets would be harder to keep if the cities communicated. So they’ve created this hatred between us all. We’re so terrified of each other we’ve created our own borders we can’t cross.’

Dylan murmurs something that sounds like an agreement.

‘Our scan chips aren’t a way of keeping us safe. It’s so the Shepherds would know if we dared to try to travel between cities. All of this, just for some stupid Debt that the Demonstrations don’t even pay back.’

I shake my head against his chest, thinking of the poor people who’ve been sold to who-knows-where. ‘What do you think? ‘ I ask Dylan, realising I’ve never actually heard him voice any opinion on the Shepherds or the way we live.

‘I try not to think about any of this stuff,’ he says.

‘Why?’

‘Because there’s nothing we can do.’

I look up at him.

‘Think about it,’ he continues. ‘All of us are suffering because of this Debt, even the Shepherds. It can’t be easy, trying to keep a country together. What if we gave up, and the whole nation became slaves, or servants or test subjects to bigger, richer places? At least this way, some of us are happy. And maybe people born after us have a chance for a future.’

‘But surely we could find another way? Maybe if someone else took over? I mean, Shepherd Fines mentioned an uprising . . . ‘

‘Aye, and he was right. An uprising, revolution or whatever would mean more deaths and would cost more than our nation has in the bank. Then all of those people sold would have been for nothing. Who would lead us then? Another bunch of people faced with a bigger problem.’

I rest my head back on Dylan’s chest. He holds me tighter and kisses the top of my head.

‘I know what you mean,’ I murmur. ‘It makes sense to wait this out, but I’d still rather fight, if I had the choice.’

Dylan’s stomach moves against my own as he laughs.

‘Aye. No one fights like you do.’

I’m about to respond when something shifts in the air. I tense. One look up to Dylan tells me he feels it, too.

Someone’s watching us.

I look to the door.

Tabby stands in the threshold, clouded in the gloom. She hangs her head when I look over, her hands twisting together. I’m about to breathe a sigh of relief when another shape appears behind her.

Shepherd Fines.

He just takes one look at us. He nods, almost to himself, and turns back down the stairs. Dylan still holds me tight, and we’re both left looking over at the child I saved from the tryouts. The light reflects on her wet cheeks.

‘I’m sorry.’ It’s half a whisper, half a sob. ‘She told me she’d find t’others what were chosen if I told on you.’

Neither of us answer, and Tabby scuttles away after Shepherd Fines. It doesn’t take a genius to work out who ‘she’ is.

Dylan swears, his voice breaking the silence. The water splashes gently as he turns away. Another curse, this time louder. The pool’s hard edge scratches my thighs as I haul myself out. The winter air bites every goose bump.

‘Are you going after him? Tell him you still love him. Tell him I forced you if you have to.’ Dylan hisses.

‘No. I’m going to be honest.’ I struggle into my clothes.

‘Honesty is going to get you killed! Is that what you want?’

I pause at the doorway. ‘No, Dylan, it’s not. But there’s no way for us both to get out of this. Just be careful, okay?’

With that, I shuffle my feet into my shoes and leave the light of the pool behind.

MY KNOCK on Shepherd Fines’ office door barely makes a sound. For a moment I don’t think he’s going to let me in, but the door slides open. I squint through the bright light and step in blindly.

Shepherd Fines sits behind his desk, head down. My favourite copper wire lamp lies smashed on its side, broken fragments of rose-tinted glass spread across the floor like they’re reaching for the exit. A tiny sliver of blood slides out of Shepherd Fines’ clenched fist. My instinct is to help him, but I hold back, knowing anything I do will be wrong.

A lifetime later, Shepherd Fines looks up. Pain flashes in his eyes, only to be replaced with fury. When it’s clear he isn’t going to speak, I take a deep breath.

‘I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t want you to find out like . . .’ I trail off. My excuse sounds weak even to me.

His eyes narrow. I continue.

‘I know you believe you like me, and I like you, most of the time. I think you’re funny and energetic and great to be around. But you remedy everything with control. I mean, you tried to drug me! What you and the other Shepherds do, I know it’s not your fault, but it’s wrong.’

‘The Shepherds do not need advice from you.’

I flinch at his tone. It’s like all the hours spent together have disappeared. All that time laughing over his anecdotes, drinking late into the night together, and even our ‘relationship status’ on Debtbook—none of it matters. He sits before me as only what he is: a Shepherd. My ruler. One of the seven people who control everyone in this country.

‘I wasn’t—’

‘I didn’t let you in for a discussion. The twist in your final Demonstration has been decided. You will fight another Demonstrator. Coral Winters.’

I laugh because he’s joking. He’s joking. He has to be joking.

‘She will be armed, you will not. She will have a gun, you will not. She will live.’

He doesn’t need to finish the sentence.

‘You—you can’t . . . I have followers!’ My voice is stronger than I feel.

He clicks his tongue. ‘Followers don’t approve when the final Demonstration seems unfair. You have refused a gun throughout your tour. You hardly ever fight with the weapon you’re given. The hatred between you and Miss Winters is common knowledge. I’m afraid the crowd will see this as your chance to prove what you’ve been preaching this whole time.’

Another knock at the door. It slides open, and Coral herself steps in like an evil spirit summoned because we dared to speak her name.

‘Was I right?’ Coral asks sweetly. For some reason, I envision her curling her tongue around Shepherd Fines’ ear. I think I dreamt it once.

‘Yes. Thank you, Miss Winters,’ Shepherd Fines says, although his voice is poisonous.

‘You’re injured! Shall I get a medic?’ she asks, stepping towards Shepherd Fines.

‘I’m perfectly well. Is that all, Miss Winters?’

Coral looks from me, back to him, and hesitates. Perhaps she hoped she would take my place once I was usurped as his favourite. Or perhaps—I recognise the flicker of fear in her expression—she’s afraid. Afraid of leaving us alone in case he changes his mind.

‘This means that Sola and I will fight, doesn’t it?’ Her usually controlled voice goes up at the end.

He nods.

‘Fantastic. I’ll do you proud, Sir. No one should make you look like a fool.’

I can’t tell whether Coral is trying to manipulate him or speaking from the heart. Her face is serious as she bows her head slightly. Her hair tumbles over her shoulder and with a quick, hard glance to me, she leaves the office as soon as the door reopens.

The silence traps Shepherd Fines and me together once again.

‘Sir, do you wish for me to die?’ I whisper. No games. I’m not playing him. I only want to know. He looks away quickly, his face stressed as if swallowing a particularly large painkiller. But as soon as I register the expression, he’s staring at me coldly again.

‘Stop it, Sola. Stop treating me like an idiot.’ Each word is pronounced perfectly, his flat voice full of control. ‘Pretending to like me. Pretending we were friends. I protected you once. Now, you are no longer my concern.’

Shepherd Fines activates the door behind me from his desk. It slides open, my cue to leave. I turn to go, but can’t help myself. I pause.

‘You once said you didn’t want to be like Dr Frankenstein. For the record, I don’t think you are. You’re a good person made to do bad things. You’re the monster. Just like me.’

‘Great stuff,’ he says in a hollow tone. ‘Goodbye, Miss Herrington.’

I TRAIN. Dylan refuses to believe that I’m going to die. At first, it’s irritating, this never ending denial, but his fantasies begin to sweep me away, too. Maybe this doesn’t have to be the end. Maybe I haven’t killed seventy-three people just to lose a fight I never stood a chance of winning. Maybe I can find a way to survive.

So every day I’m not Demonstrating, I train. I’m in the middle of a parry with Dylan when the date of my final Demonstration goes on Debtbook.

20th January 2100.

Seventeen days.

My followers sky rocket. I hear the tickets are sold out within minutes. The Shepherds double the price of downloading the live footage. There’s even an application that allows you to vote for whoever you think will win.

When Alixis checks the current results, she winces. That’s all I need to know about that.

I even consider blackmailing Shepherd Fines. I know
so
much. I could tell the other Shepherds that it was Fines who told me about the monthly sales and get him into trouble. Or, I can say I will kill myself before the big fight so that he loses all the money for the tickets. But both of those threats are suicide, and I think Fines knows me well enough to know I’m not the kind of girl to give up on my own life.

No, it’s time to face up to the situation I’ve made for myself.

Instead of counting down the days until my fight, I tick off the Demonstrations. City Foxtrot—where I practise fighting with my left hand. In Echo, I don’t let myself kick. Right before my fight in Delta, I run laps until I hit the wall, and enter the Stadium exhausted—that was risky, considering the two contestants ended up being ex-Herd officers. I attempt—and fail—to keep my eyes closed the whole way through my Demonstration in city Charlie, and I nearly meet my maker in Bravo after refusing to eat the day before.

In Alpha, the biggest, most affluent city I’ve ever visited, I request for the contestant to be armed with a gun. The Liaisons comply, but it turns out they only put a blank in. I guess they can’t let me die before my final fight. It’s a good job too, because the blank fires right at me. My body becomes a canvass of cuts and bruises.

I don’t see Shepherd Fines in those two weeks. His office light is sometimes on, but the few times I’ve knocked on his door, I’ve been ignored. My dad’s profile is constantly open on my digipad, and each time I see that’s he’s safe, guilt pangs through me at thinking that Shepherd Fines would harm him. My life is a pendulum, relentlessly swinging in between assurance and paranoia. Fear and determination.

Four days before our fight, I spot Gideon training Coral. Gideon, who probably saved my life when he became my trainer months ago by pushing me harder than Dylan would have. Gideon, who still hates me for my connection to Shepherd Fines. Who is training another girl to kill me.

My tongue stings with how hard I bite it to stop me from crying out in frustration. They’ve obviously been watching my fights. Coral trains with her right arm tied behind her back. Her left arm darts out like a viper, hitting home again and again.

‘She’s taking every advantage away from me!’ I scream when I reach the oak tree where Dylan and Alixis are waiting. It’s unusually warm for January, and the air tastes stagnant, like a damp towel at the bottom of the laundry basket. I brush Dylan’s hand away from my shoulder as I pace in front of the tree.

‘Every time I think I’m getting ahead, she’s there, doing it better than me. She’s got a sword and a gun. What more does she want?’

‘She wants you dead,’ Alixis says casually.

In the silence that follows, she looks up from her digipad. At least she has the courtesy to look sheepish.

‘Sorry, but it’s true. Think fast.’ She launches her digipad towards me and I catch it easily. The screen displays Coral’s profile. Her picture is an insanely beautiful headshot of her after a Demonstration. She’s updated her status as: