chapter 4

MANNY MARCHED THE NEWBIES INTO THE GYM EARLY THE NEXT morning for the choosing.

They followed him through the door in a straight line, their faces tight with fear and exhaustion.

They were followed by a few doctors in lab coats. Their tests and X-rays continued into today, which

contributed to the newbies' exhaustion. I remembered having to run on a treadmill at a steep incline while

attached to all sorts of contraptions. The doctors kept increasing the speed until I finally fell off.

Groups of Reboots stood in clumps behind the trainers, curious to see who got which trainer. Ever

was in the corner to my left with several Under-sixties, leaning against the wall as she watched the

newbies line up in front of us.

I turned and my eyes went immediately to Twenty-two. His gaze was on Lissy, but when he caught me

looking a smile broke out on his face, followed by a pout.

Please? he mouthed.

Pleading didn't work with me. Human targets pleaded with me all the time. "Please don't take me."

Or, "Please don't touch me." Or, "Please don't kill me." Didn't work.

That smile, on the other hand . . . I almost let one creep onto my own face.

No. That was ridiculous. I couldn't let this weird smiling boy convince me to do something stupid. I

was the best trainer; I only took the best newbies.

Maybe they're the best because you make them that way. The thought had been nagging at me since

last night.

The door banged open and the gym quieted as Officer Mayer, commanding officer of the five HARC

facilities, strolled across the room. He came to a stop next to the medical personnel and folded his arms

over his protruding stomach. Officer Mayer spent the most time in Rosa, the largest of the five facilities,

and often showed up to observe the newbies. He watched them throughout the entire six-week process, to

keep an eye out for the good ones and weed out any who might be trouble.

"One-seventy-eight," Manny said.

I turned my gaze to One-twenty-one, who nodded at me. He already knew I would choose him. The

other Reboots would have told him.

I looked at Twenty-two. How long did he have with Lissy? They'd be out in the field in a couple

weeks, and with Lissy's track record, he'd be dead within two months.

His dark eyes held mine. Not many people looked me in the eye. Humans didn't want to look at me at

all and Reboots were either scared or felt I was some sort of superior.

And that smile. That smile was strange here. Newbies didn't come in smiling; they came in terrified

and miserable.

He was definitely weird.

"One-seventy-eight?" Manny repeated, looking at me expectantly.

"Twenty-two." It was out of my mouth before I could change my mind. A grin spread across his face.

The trainers looked down the line in astonishment. Lissy's mood was already improved.

"Twenty-two?" Manny repeated. "Callum?"

"Yes," I confirmed. I stole a look across the gym to see Officer Mayer rubbing his chin, his mouth

twisted in something bordering on disappointment. I thought he might object, make me chose a higher

number, but he stayed silent.

"All right," Manny said. "One-fifty?"

Hugo opened his mouth, closed it, and turned to me with a frown. "Are you sure?"

Twenty-two laughed, and Manny motioned for him to be quiet.

No. "Yes," I said.

"I . . . One-twenty-one, then," Hugo said, looking at me like I might protest.

I didn't. I stood there as the other trainers picked their newbies and broke off to start discussing the

process. I waited, numb from my decision, until Twenty-two strolled over to me, his hands shoved into

the pockets of his black pants.

"You like me after all," he said.

I frowned. I didn't know about that. I was curious. Intrigued. Like? That was pushing it.

"Or maybe not," he said with a laugh.

"I considered what you said. About the lower numbers not having me."

"Ah. So not because of me."

He smiled at me and I got the impression he didn't believe a word that had just come out of my mouth.

I shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. I wanted to fidget, and I never fidgeted.

"Are you a good runner?" I asked quickly.

"I doubt it."

I sighed. "We'll meet at the indoor track every morning at seven."

"Okay."

"Try not to scream when I break your bones. It bothers me. You can cry if you want; that's fine."

He burst out laughing. I didn't realize that was a funny statement.

"Got it," he said, trying unsuccessfully to cover his grin. "Screaming, no. Crying, yes."

"Have you ever handled any weapons?"

"No."

"Skills?"

"I'm good with tech stuff."

"Tech stuff?" I repeated with a confused frown. "Where did you see computers in the slums?"

"I'm not from the slums." He lowered his voice when he said it.

I blinked. "You're from the rico?"

He laughed slightly. "No one calls it that. It's just Austin."

No one from the rico called it that. Outside, in the slums, we used the Spanish word for rich to refer

to the wealthy side of the cities.

I took a quick glance around the gym. There were a few Reboots from the rico, but they were certainly

in the minority. I'd never trained one. My last trainee, Marie One-thirty-five, had lived on the streets in

Richards, and she'd been tougher for it. Slum life made better, stronger Reboots. Twenty-two was doubly

screwed. I wasn't sure I would have picked him if I'd known that.

"How'd you die?" I asked.

"KDH."

"I thought they had mostly eradicated the KDH virus in the wealthy parts of town," I said.

"They're close. I'm just one of the lucky few."

I grimaced. KDH was a nasty way to die. They named the virus for the city that had been ground zero

of the outbreak, Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina. It was a different strain of a respiratory virus common

in children, and killed most humans within a few days.

"My parents took me to a slum hospital because they couldn't afford any medicines," he continued.

"That was dumb." Everyone knew KDH was rampant in the slums. No one was getting treated for it

there.

"Yeah, well, they were desperate. And they didn't realize . . ."

"You only go to the hospital in the slums to die and be sorted."

"Yes. How did you die?" he asked.

"I was shot," I said. "Any other skills?"

"I don't think so. Wait, how old were you when you died?"

"Twelve. We're not talking about me."

"Who would shoot a twelve-year-old?" he asked with the innocence that could only come from living

his entire life inside walls where nothing bad happened.

"We're not talking about me," I repeated. What was the point, anyway? How would I explain a life of

strung-out parents and dirty shacks and the fighting and screaming that came when they went too long

without a fix? A rich kid would never understand.

"Newbies!" Manny called, motioning for them to join him by the gym door.

"We're not starting now?" Twenty-two asked.

"No, you have more tests to do," I said, gesturing to the medical personnel. "We'll start tomorrow."

He let out a sigh as he ran a hand down his face. "Seriously? More tests?"

"Yes."

He looked from me to the other newbies, who had already joined Manny. "All right. I'll see you

tomorrow, then."

"Twenty-two!" Manny yelled. "Move it!"

I gestured for him to go and he jogged across the gym and disappeared out the door. The trainers all

stared at me as they filed past. Hugo and Lissy stopped in front of me, wearing matching confused

expressions.

"What's wrong with you?" Lissy asked. She had her hands on her hips, her eyebrows lowered.

"Is he special or something?" Hugo asked.

Lissy rolled her eyes. "Yeah. He's real special, Hugo."

I shrugged. "Maybe I can make him better."

"Don't count on it," Lissy muttered. She stalked away. Hugo gave me another befuddled look, then

followed her out.

I turned to go, my eyes catching Ever's. She was smiling, her head cocked to the side, then she nodded

as if to say, Good for you.