MURDEROUS: $40.99
It was still bright when we emerged outside. The dome glowed a brilliant frosty white above the city. Saretha blinked in the light. She hadn’t been outside in so long, she needed a moment to adjust. She glided along, running her fingers over the buildings’ walls and Ads, like she needed to feel them to know this was real. The light patter of Ads around us suddenly went dark. Even without Cuffs, we were still being monitored. The Ad panels pinged for Cuffs, only to find they weren’t there. I worried. What if they scanned our faces? Would Rog be notified? Would the police?
They mostly shut down, which was a relief, but an illusionary ring of shadow surrounded us wherever we walked. It was hard to hide, and people began staring.
Cars drove fast around the outer rim. The sound of them bounced between the tall, long buildings. My body was trembling with nervous exhilaration. We just had to make it to Malvika Place.
“Do you think she will talk?” Sam asked. “Are we going to meet her?”
I wished I had a better way to explain. I had to show them what I’d seen. I hoped to pass Saretha off as Carol Amanda Harving. How could they prove my sister wasn’t her? They could never produce Carol Amanda Harving in court. Not even Butchers & Rog could conjure a human being from thin air.
I could feel eyes on us everywhere. Some were curious, others disdainful. We hadn’t traveled far when a pack of kids a little younger than me fell quiet at the sight of us. One of them signed the zippered lips. Sera Croate hissed from behind them, “Don’t do that!” I was startled to see her. Her Cuff buzzed, and her face sneered.
“Do you know what you’ve done?” she demanded. The kids around her scattered. I said nothing, praying she would get bored with us and move along. “I should—” She stopped talking and began tapping up an InstaSuit™. She waited for my Cuff to buzz in receipt, and when it didn’t, her eyebrows knit in angry confusion.
I put my left arm behind me, to hide my missing Cuff from her view.
“Hey!” Sam said suddenly, brightly. “Let’s go! Mrs. Harris is waiting!” He lied so easily.
He took my right hand and pulled me forward. Sera eased out of our path, baffled, cowed by our Custodian’s name.
We made it as far as the bridge leading to Falxo Park. I’d planned to move toward the city center and Malvika Place, but a car came toward us and pulled to a sudden stop. A tall, sharp-faced man emerged, staring at me.
He wasn’t a Lawyer. He wasn’t dressed like one, and he looked too brutal and dim. He wasn’t a police officer, either. His lip curled, and he rapped on the roof of his car.
“Hey, look,” he said, like he had found something interesting. Two other men, who appeared to be his brothers, emerged from the vehicle and sneered.
They all looked identical—lean and rough, with long, muscled necks that seemed dangerous and the same watery blue eyes. Each of them was dressed in an ivory-buttoned Arlington Heights Transcolor™ shirt—one indigo, one maroon and one gold. Their crisp black pants were thick and itchy-looking.
I don’t know if Sam sensed my unease, but he turned to me and said, “I can make you think of zebras.”
He remembered our dad’s trick of the mind. He nudged me with his elbow and inclined his head backward, toward the bridge.
“Come on,” he whispered.
I didn’t want to use the bridge, but I sensed Sam was right; it was better to avoid confrontation. We could go into the park and then turn back at the next bridge.
At first I thought the brothers might have been summoned by some alert from the Ad scans, but then I saw Sera Croate standing uncomfortably in the distance, pretending not to watch.
Ads babbled in our wake as we moved across the bridge, brought to life by the three brothers who began to follow us.
Sam forced a laugh. “Do you see it?”
I wasn’t thinking of zebras, not with those three men behind us.
“I wonder what your zebra looks like,” Sam said. “Whether it’s standing in a great plain, or by a tree. Are the stripes thick or thin, or curved or straight?”
I saw it then. A zebra flicked in my mind’s eye, striped thin, standing under a tree, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.
We should have run.
“Did you know zebra stripes are like fingerprints? If you ever look at them, it’s like a huge thumbprint on the side of a white horse—like a huge giant with inky fingers picked the zebra up and left the mark behind.”
I turned back to look at the men. Two of them were right behind us, near enough for me to hear the the rustle of their stiff clothes as they walked. The third brother, the one in indigo, peeled off and was walking quickly on the far side of the bridge forty feet away. I think he was trying to flank us.
“Are you picturing the giant? Is it a cyclops?” Sam asked, elbowing Saretha, then me. “I bet it is now.”
Saretha laughed a loopy little laugh. What a time for Sam to come back. I’d missed his voice, but I could only half-listen.
“I can make you think of a gigantic cyclops picking up a zebra, just by saying it. That’s a pretty serious power,” Sam said more seriously. I didn’t know if he was thinking of what I had sacrificed, or of his own future. I would never be able to ask, but I know he was trying to reassure us.
“Sluk,” a low, rasping voice behind us said. I felt Saretha bristle.
We were halfway across the bridge now, a few feet from the apex. The split in the safety mesh had never been repaired from when Beecher jumped. Sam wheeled around.
“You need to watch your mouth,” he warned. He was easily two feet shorter than any of these men.
“We know who you are,” the leader in gold warned.
“You know Miss Harving?” Sam asked. His voice was strange. What was he doing? I wanted to take his hand, but I didn’t know if my eyes would be shocked if I tried.
The “Don’t Jump,” song began playing, triggered despite the fact that—or perhaps because—we did not have our Cuffs. I glanced down at the ring below. There was no memorial to Beecher down there. The cars went zooming underneath us, blurs of red, silver and gold. The bridge was a constant rumble.
I didn’t like this place.
“We know her,” the maroon brother said, pointing a thick, knobby finger at me. “The Silent Freak™.”
“But you don’t know Carol Amanda Harving?” Sam asked, as if that was the more important subject.
Apparently they did, because they turned to look at Saretha. The indigo brother had circled around and was now standing right in front of Saretha. He cocked his head. “The actress?”
“The actress,” Sam confirmed.
All three brothers got squinty. They now had us surrounded.
We were sandwiched between them and the bridge’s wall, waist-high and full of colorful bunnies.
“She looks chubby for an actress,” the gold brother said. The lead looked at his Cuff as if it would tell him what to do.
“Why’s she with the Silent Freak™?” The maroon brother jabbed his finger at me again. His Cuff buzzed. Mrs. Nince got richer.
“She’s studying for a role,” Sam said, as if it was obvious. I’d never realized how quickly Sam could think on his feet. He leaned in to the gold leader and whispered, “She is going to play the Silent Girl in an upcoming film.”
“Oh, is she?” the gold brother asked, like he wasn’t buying it.
“She looks like a sluk,” the indigo brother said.
My skin was crawling. I hated that word.
“She’s playing a role,” Sam shot back as if the indigo brother needed this explained to him like small child. The man’s face grew red.
I turned to look at the green of Falxo Park. It was empty, like it had been cleared. I scanned for anyone who might be a Silent, but how would I know? What could they do?
“Don’t look away from me,” the gold brother demanded, pushing on my cheek so my head turned.
“You made us talk,” the maroon brother complained. He spoke loudly over the roar of the traffic below. “You’re gonna pay for that.” Then he thought about the words in his mouth. “...and for this.”
He turned his Cuff to Sam and pointed. His wristlet was rimmed in gold and a crust of diamonds. The bill scrolled with his words.
“Fancy,” Sam commented. I loved that little voice, but he really needed to keep quiet now.
A woman jogged by with her tiny dog and pretended not to see anything. There was a roar of engines beneath us that crested, then pitched lower as a group of cars passed. Suddenly, the air grew quiet. I tried to push through the three men, but they would not budge.
The gold one looked Saretha over again, and then me. He narrowed his watery eyes.
“Silent Freak™.” He licked his lips and put a hand on my shoulder. It was heavy and warm. The maroon brother leaned over the ledge, checking the height, pressing the plastic mesh open until it split more.
“Talk,” the gold brother ordered. His fingers dug into my shoulder. His grip was like iron. “I’ll pay for your speaks—I’ll pay for a whole year. Say whatever you like.” He snapped his fingers like it was already done.
The maroon brother lunged at Sam and grabbed him in a bear hug. A chill went up my spine.
“She needs to be motivated,” the maroon brother grunted, flipping Sam upside down through the split in the mesh like a rag doll, grabbing him at the knees and dangling him head down, eighty feet above the rush of traffic. Sam flailed, wild-eyed, for something to grab hold of.
My knees nearly buckled. I thought I might vomit. I reached out desperately for Sam, struggling against the gold brother’s grasp on me.
“Don’t make me lose my grip.” The maroon brother frowned. He dipped Sam down roughly, like he was about to drop him. My heart felt like it stopped. Sam put a hand out against the smooth outer wall of the bridge, looking for something to cling to, but the bridge curved away from him, giving him nothing to hold.
Another wave of traffic roared below. I tried to reach for Sam again, but the gold brother pulled me roughly back. I punched him in the side of the head, but unlike in a movie, there was no powerful thwack. He did not drop to the ground. There was just a thick, meaty sound, and his brow furrowed.
“Just speak,” the gold brother said, as if he was tired of me. My hand stung from the blow, but I hauled back to deliver another when I saw someone in the distance.
Mrs. Harris clicked up the bridge in her heels from Falxo Park, rushing along, her face slack and vaguely annoyed. It might have been the only time I was ever glad to see her. There was no way she couldn’t see us. Her eyes blinked in shock and surprise. She stopped for moment and appraised the scene with a side-eye. The gold brother turned and grinned at her. She ducked her head down, as if a bright light prevented her from making eye contact.
“Help!” Sam called out, realizing someone was there. He could not see it was our Custodian.
Mrs. Harris’s sour face puckered with bewilderment. For one brief moment, I thought she might help, but no. She tugged at the bottom of her jacket and continued across the bridge. Her heels clicked swiftly along. She lifted her head as she passed to sneer at me and sign the zippered lips with a bitter, disdainful face full of hate.
“Friend of yours?” The gold brother laughed.
Mrs. Harris disappeared down the street.
I don’t know what I’d thought Mrs. Harris would do, but I felt betrayed. She was still our Custodian. My skin prickled and my pulse pounded in my neck. Sam cried out for help again. The maroon brother shook his head in disgust.
Please don’t do this, I begged in my mind. Tears of desperation streaked my face.
The gold brother clicked his tongue impatiently.
“Do you want us to let go?”
My breathing was ragged and out of control. I couldn’t speak. Truly. I swear. I could no longer form words. I would not have cared in that moment if my eyes were shocked, or what kind of trouble I’d be in with Keene Inc. for breaking my contract.
But I could. Not. Speak.
“Stop!” Saretha cried, then screamed in agony, her lids shut tight against the shock to her eyes. She screamed again and again, dropping to the ground. The three brothers watched, curious but unmoved as she pressed her palms savagely to her eyes.
“Do you seriously want to test us?” the gold one asked.
I didn’t want to test them. I didn’t want to be anywhere near them. I didn’t want any of this to be happening. I wished Henri, or Kel, or even Margot was nearby, but what could any of them do against all three of these men? I pitifully scanned the rooftops, but they were empty.
Saretha looked blindly around, panicked and desperate, her eyes rimmed in red. A coarse no gasped out of her throat.
“What?” the indigo brother asked, holding a hand to his ear and aiming it at me.
Sam redoubled his struggle against the maroon brother, kicking at him.
“Goddamnit!” his captor grumbled, tightening his hold on Sam.
“Do you want us to let go?” the gold one repeated, to me and only to me.
“Please,” Saretha begged, then winced against the pain of the next shock.
The bridge was truly empty now. In the distance, people turned and avoided this scene. No one wanted to be a witness. No one wanted to spend a dime on testimony they couldn’t profit from. Another blast of warm exhaust hit us from below. I would have done anything to stop them.
“Just say no,” the gold one said to me. “One little word.”
One little word. I could feel it. The flat of my tongue pressed the roof of my mouth. My numb lips formed an O, but no sound came out, no breath. My body felt weak. I raged at them, clawing at the gold brother to get at Sam, my mouth moving soundlessly. I tried to get the word out.
“Don’t!” Sam cried out, and I need to believe, even now, that when he said it, he was talking to me, telling me not to give in.
That’s when the maroon brother, finally fed up, shook Sam off and sent him plummeting into traffic eighty feet below.