Free to Fall

32

WHILE NORTH TOOK HIS MOTORBIKE to the pharmacy in Greenfield, I stayed behind to wait for Hershey. We’d decided to leave for North’s apartment in Manhattan as soon as we got out of the tomb, so this might be my last chance to say good-bye. If we pulled this off, we’d have to disappear.

Our plan was actually pretty simple. We’d decided to manufacture chaos by reprogramming Lux to direct Gold users into their threats and weaknesses instead of away from them, enabling people to experience the moments the Few were so intent on keeping them from— and throwing a massive wrench into their daily schedules in the process. It wasn’t breaking the shackles, exactly, but if people’s lives were thrown off kilter, maybe they’d look up from their screens. Maybe they’d seek guidance from somewhere other than the shiny gold box on their wrists. It was all we could do, really. Lay the groundwork. In the end, people had to choose.

I formed them free and free they must remain. I saw the quote from Paradise Lost differently now. The Few hadn’t changed human nature. They hadn’t taken away free will—they didn’t have the power to do that. Yes, the nanobots in people’s brains were manufacturing a sense of trust, leading them to blindly put their faith in Lux, but those tiny machines weren’t dictating their choices. Nobody was. Nobody could, not even God. It was the message on Griffin’s ring. Steinbeck’s timshel. Thou mayest. With Lux, people were simply choosing not to choose. We had to remind them that they still could.

We were optimistic. After seeing Beck’s Lux profile and my reaction to it, North had started clicking through Lux profiles randomly, looking at the users’ threats and weaknesses. As it turned out, there were some that appeared on nearly every profile, so he’d started cataloging the repeats. Synchronicity, serendipity, and sunsets, for example, were common threats. As were unfulfilled expectations and unanticipated delays. Meanwhile, the same five traits appeared almost universally as user weaknesses. Patience, compassion, humility, gratitude, and mercy. Their antitheses—instant gratification, smugness, confidence, entitlement, and indifference—were at the top of nearly every strengths list. Our plan was to keep the app’s existing algorithm but change the variables. If North got the code right, our modified version of Lux would manufacture the scenarios it had previously been programmed to avoid. I didn’t know exactly what to expect if we succeeded, but I knew that if the Few were keeping people from having them, then these types of experiences—moments of compassion, of mercy, of gratitude, of humility—must be powerful. I kept thinking of the way Hershey acted after I helped her study for her midterms. She was a recipient of my grace that night, and it changed her.

I put my earbuds in and pressed play on Tarsus’s recording. North had put it on his iPhone like I’d asked, and since he’d been gone, I’d listened to it three more times. As Tarsus spoke, I pulled my legs up under me and closed my eyes. Focusing on my breath, I tried to clear my brain of its whirling, fruitless worry. In . . . Out . . . In. My breath sounded like the ocean, or like the wind.

The wind blows wherever it pleases, I heard the voice say. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going.

So it was with the voice, I realized. It, like the wind, could not be predicted or contained. I held on to these words, letting them repeat like a refrain as I steadied my breaths. I couldn’t control who the voice would speak to, or even when it would choose to speak to me. All I could do was decide to listen each time it did.

Peace took ahold of my heart as I sat there, its presence filling me with the certainty that there was purpose in our plan and confidence that we would carry it through. I remembered the words the voice spoke the day I arrived at Theden, the promise I’d forgotten until now. You won’t fail, it had whispered. I waited now for an assurance that nothing bad would happen to us in the process, but none ever came.

“Rory?” I felt a hand on my shoulder and a gentle shake. Groggy with sleep, I opened my eyes. The light had faded in the living room, the sun a warm amber through the slats in the window shade. My earbuds were still in my ears, but the recording had long since cut off. North was next to me on the couch, a pharmacy bag on his lap. He brushed the hair out of my face. “I thought you were meditating,” he said, then smiled. “Until I heard a snore.”

I punched him in the arm. “So you got it?”

North pulled a small vial and a box of needles from the bag. “One dose of intravenous triazolam. It should sedate him within minutes and keep him out for at least eight hours. If all goes according to plan, we could be in Manhattan before he wakes up.”

I only nodded. If all goes according to plan. That was a big if.

North glanced at his watch. “It’s almost six,” he told me. “I need to get all my gear to the storage unit before it closes. And you should probably go pack up whatever you want to bring with you and get it back here before you go to Liam’s.” The plan was for me to go to Liam’s dorm room a few minutes before curfew, under the guise of being nervous about initiation. His roommate had flown to Birmingham that morning for his grandmother’s funeral and wouldn’t be back until the following day, so Liam would be alone. Since he no doubt kept his robe hidden, I’d have to somehow convince him to show it to me before I pricked him. We’d talked about waiting until Liam left for the cemetery but decided that leaving him out in the open was too risky, for him and for us. It was safer for everyone if he spent the night in bed. Once I had him tucked in, I’d take his robe and meet North in the cemetery to wait for the text from the Few. North wanted to come with me to Liam’s dorm, but we couldn’t risk someone seeing him, especially not with the restraining order still in effect.

“Not yet,” I told North, sliding my back down the couch and pulling him on top of me. His body tensed up in surprise. I held him tight against me, arching my back to press against him. He framed my face with his forearms and kissed me, gently at first, then deeper. Hands trembling, I fumbled for the button on his jeans.

“Whoa,” North said, pulling away from me. I met his gaze and brought my hands back to the button, tugging it loose. “Rory—” he began.

“We could die tonight,” I said softly.

“We’re not going to—”

I cut him off. “And if we do, I don’t want to regret not having done this.” I slid the zipper down and felt a stirring behind the blue plaid fabric of his boxers. He caught my hand in his and held it.

“Rory,” he said, softer now. “I want this. I want you. So much I can’t even breathe sometimes thinking about it.” He intertwined his fingers with mine. “But not like this. Not because you’re afraid. Fear not, remember?”

“Fear not,” I whispered, tears pooling in my eyes. North leaned down again to kiss me once more, with so much tenderness, it took my breath away. For a moment time seemed to expand and stand still until I could almost believe that the kiss would never end. My chest ached when he finally pulled away.

“To be continued,” he said, sitting back on his heels.

I managed a hint of a smile. North stood and helped me to my feet. “So we’ll meet back here in an hour or so to pack the bike?” I nodded and pressed my lips to his once more before I left. Every kiss felt precious now.

The sun had dropped behind the trees by the time I made it back to campus. The double doors to the dining hall were propped open and the freezing air carried the sounds and smells of the dinner hour. My stomach growled, but I didn’t have time to eat. I had to pack my things and take them to North’s so he could load his bike, then come back to campus to shower and change before going to Liam’s.

I blinked and felt tears behind my eyelids. Campus was most beautiful at dusk, just after the globe-shaped streetlamps turned on but before it was completely dark, when the sky was its deepest and richest shade of blue. Even with everything I knew about the people who’d built this place and the egomaniacs who were now running it, I wasn’t ready to leave. I loved it here. The status, the belonging, the sense that I was destined for something great. It was exactly what Dr. Tarsus had said on the recording. Theden had given me a whole new life. A life I didn’t want to lose.

But then again, in a way I’d already lost it, weeks ago, when I decided to trust the Doubt no matter where it led me.

The courtyard was empty except for a lone figure sitting on the bench closest to Athenian Hall. As I got closer, I realized it was Liam.

“Rory,” he said when he saw me, getting to his feet. “Where have you been?”

“Errands,” I said vaguely. “Downtown. What’s up?”

“Rudd was looking for you.” Liam’s body was tense, like he was nervous.

“Mr. Rudman? Why?”

“He said they’re moving up your initiation.” Liam saw my blank look. “He’s the Divine Third, Rory. The one in the owl mask.”

Rudd was a member of the Few? Not only that, but the third in command. The “Divine Third.” Just the title made my skin crawl. The arrogance.

“And Dean Atwater’s the Divine First?” I’d already decided he had to be the man behind the serpent mask. Liam’s nod just confirmed it.

“He and Rudd and Tarsus are waiting for you in the tomb,” he said, glancing around. But the caution was unnecessary. There wasn’t a soul in sight. Everyone was at dinner. “I was supposed to wait for you here and take you down there.”

“It’s happening now?” Panic licked at my legs. I’d left the syringe at North’s. It couldn’t be time for initiation. It wasn’t even dark yet.

“That’s what Rudd said.” Liam looked uncomfortable.

“Liam. What?”

“It’s just . . . if they’re initiating you, why didn’t he tell me to bring our robes?”

Fear shot down my spine. They know.

“Shit,” I whispered.

“Rory, what’s going on? What did you do?”

“I found out some things about the society,” I said carefully. I watched for Liam’s reaction. There wasn’t one. “They’re not who you think they are, Liam. They’re—”

His arm shot forward to grab my wrist, hard. “There is no ‘they,’ Rory. Not for me.” I snatched my hand back like I’d been stung. He eyed me, his gaze cold and hard now like the stone walls of the tomb, and all at once I understood. To Liam, the Few were “we,” not “they.” They’d promised him a lifetime of acceptance, the assurance that he would always belong, and that was enough for him. “Look,” Liam said then. “If you want to bail, I won’t come after you. But they’re expecting us in the tomb, and I won’t keep them waiting.” He got to his feet.

For a moment, maybe two, I let myself believe that I might run. To North, to safety, to my future. But my feet stayed planted. I couldn’t run from this. I’d given up that option when I decided to take on the Few. In the distance, the campus bell tower tolled the hour. It was seven o’clock. A full hour before North was expecting me back. He wouldn’t even begin to worry until after eight, and it’d take him another fifteen minutes to get to the cemetery. The realization that I might not see him again made every part of me ache. But if I went back to him now, we’d lose whatever shot we had of getting into that server room. My only option was to try to stall them.

For over an hour.

I can’t do this, the me part of me whimpered. I waited for the voice to tell me I was wrong, but there was only silence.

Liam had turned and was heading toward the woods. “Wait,” I called. “I’m coming with you.”

It was only then, after I had made my choice, that the voice finally spoke.

Fear not, for I am with you.

“I’m not afraid,” I whispered back, and for a moment it was true.