Imagine Me
I think it made them angry.
They slapped me awake even though my eyes were open when we arrived. Someone unstrapped me without removing my handcuffs and kicked me in both kneecaps before ordering me to rise. And I tried. I tried but I couldn’t and finally 6 hands shoved me out the door and my face was bleeding on the concrete for a while. I can’t really remember the part where they dragged me inside.
I feel cold all the time.
I feel empty, like there is nothing inside of me but this broken heart, the only organ left in this hell. I feel the bleats echo within me, I feel the thumping reverberate around my skeleton. I have a heart, says science, but I am a monster, says society. And I know it, of course I know it. I know what I’ve done. I’m not asking for sympathy.
But sometimes I think—sometimes I wonder—if I were a monster—surely, I would feel it by now?
I would feel angry and vicious and vengeful.
I’d know blind rage and bloodlust and a need for vindication.
Instead I feel an abyss within me that’s so deep, so dark I can’t see within it; I can’t see what it holds. I do not know what I am or what might happen to me.
I do not know what I might do again.
—An excerpt from Juliette’s journals in the asylum
KENJI
I stand stock-still for a moment, letting the shock of everything settle around me, and when it finally hits me that Nazeera is really here, really awake, really okay, I pull her into my arms. Her defensive posture melts away, and suddenly she’s just a girl—my girl—and happiness rockets through me. She’s not even close to being short, but in my arms, she feels small. Pocket-sized. Like she was always meant to fit here, against my chest.
It’s like heaven.
When we finally pull apart, I’m beaming like an idiot. I don’t even care that everyone is staring at us. I just want to live in this moment.
“Hey,” I say to her. “I’m so happy you’re okay.”
She takes a deep, unsteady breath, and then—smiles. It changes her whole face. It makes her look a lot less like a mercenary and a lot more like an eighteen-year-old girl. Though I think I like both versions, if I’m being honest.
“I’m so happy you’re okay, too,” she says quietly.
We stare at each other a moment longer before I hear someone clear their throat in a dramatic fashion.
Reluctantly, I turn around.
I know, in an instant, that the throat-clearing came from Nouria. I can tell by the way her arms are crossed, the way her eyes are narrowed. Sam, on the other hand, looks amused.
But Castle looks happy. Surprised, but happy.
I grin at him.
Nouria’s frown deepens. “You two know Warner left, right?”
That wipes the smile off my face. I spin around, but there’s no sign of him. I turn back, swearing quietly under my breath.
Nazeera shoots me a look.
“I know,” I say, shaking my head. “He’s going to try and leave without us.”
She almost laughs. “Definitely.”
I’m about to say my good-byes again when Nouria jumps to her feet. “Wait,” she says.
“No time,” I say, already backing out the door. “Warner is going to bail on us, and I c—”
“He’s about to take a shower,” Sam says, cutting me off.
I freeze so fast I nearly fall over. I turn around, eyebrows high. “He’s what now?”
“He’s about to take a shower,” she says again.
I blink at her slowly, like I’m stupid, which, honestly, is kind of how I’m feeling at the moment. “You mean you’re, like, watching him get ready to take a shower?”
“It’s not weird,” Nouria says flatly. “Stop making it weird.”
I squint at Sam. “What’s Warner doing right now?” I ask her. “Is he in the shower yet?”
“Yes.”
Nazeera raises a single eyebrow. “So you’re just, like, watching a naked Warner in the shower right now?”
“I’m not looking at his body,” Sam says, sounding very close to irritated.
“But you could,” I say, stunned. “That’s what’s so weird about this. You could just watch any of us take extremely naked showers.”
“You know what?” Nouria says sharply. “I was going to do something to make things easier for you guys on your way out, but I think I’ve changed my mind.”
“Wait—” Nazeera says. “Make things easier how?”
“I was going to help you steal a jet.”
“Okay, all right, I take it back,” I say, holding up my hands in apology. “I retract all my previous comments about nakedness. I would also like to formally apologize to Sam, who we all know is way too nice and way too cool to ever spy on anyone in the shower.”
Sam rolls her eyes. Cracks a smile.
Nouria sighs. “I don’t understand how you deal with him,” she says to Castle. “I can’t stand all the jokes. It would drive me insane to have to listen to this all day.”
I’m about to protest when Castle responds.
“That’s only because you don’t know him well enough,” Castle says, smiling at me. “Besides, we don’t love him for his jokes, do we, Nazeera?” The two of them lock eyes for a moment. “We love him for his heart.”
At that, the smile slips from my face. I’m still processing the weight of that statement—the generosity of such a statement—when I realize I’ve already missed a beat.
Nouria is talking.
“The air base isn’t far from here,” she’s saying, “and I guess this is as good a time as any to let you all know that Sam and I are about to take a page out of Ella’s playbook and take over Sector 241. Stealing a plane will be the least of the damage—and, in fact, I think it’s a great way to launch our offensive strategy.” She glances over her shoulder. “What do you think, Sam?”
“Brilliant,” she says, “as usual.”
Nouria smiles.
“I didn’t realize that was your strategy,” Castle says, the smile fading from his face. “Don’t you think, based on how things turned out the last time, that m—”
“Why don’t we discuss this after we’ve sent the kids off on their mission? Right now it’s more important that we get them situated and give them a proper send-off before it’s officially too late.”
“Hey, speaking of which,” I say quickly, “what makes you think we’re not already too late?”
Nouria meets my eyes. “If they’d done the transfer,” she says, “we would’ve felt it.”
“Felt it how?”
It’s Sam who responds: “In order for their plan to work, Emmaline has to die. They won’t let that happen naturally, of course, because a natural death could occur in any number of ways, which leaves too many factors up in the air. They need to be able to control the experiment at all times— which is why they were so desperate to get their hands on Ella before Emmaline died. They’re almost certainly going to kill Emmaline in a controlled environment, and they’ll set it up in a way that leaves no room for error. Even so, we’re bound to feel something change.