We are back in the cremation chamber. James has brought all of Pod A here—a feat only he, as one of The Ten, could accomplish. My stomach feels heavy, my mind racing with all the potential ways this plan could fall apart.
With only six hours left before Loudin is finished with his “procedure,” we do not have time for any mistakes, any changes to the plan.
“The pharmaceutical is working well.” Rhen’s gaze scans the row of people, standing still, eyes slightly glazed.
Though I hated to do it, we needed to drug them. We could not take the risk that anyone in Pod A would question us or fight or—worse—alert one of the Scientists. It was difficult enough removing each of them from their assigned tasks to bring them here. But they are here, and we have very little time to place each one of them in the cremation chamber.
As the shelf to hold the body slides out, I remember Kristie lying there peacefully, almost like she was asleep. I recall the smell that escaped as she was pulled in, her body consumed. Gone. I swallow hard and pray this is the right choice.
One by one, the first generation of people born into the State are laid on the shelf and pulled into the white cremation cylinder. They blink, confused but submissive, and close their eyes when they are told to do so. The shelf goes in and the panel lights up. After several minutes, the next person is laid on the shelf and the process starts again and again.
I examine each face to see which one is my brother. I cannot be sure. My sister in Pod B looks very much like me. But there are several in this group who could be him. Does he have Loudin’s lighter complexion and eyes or Kristie’s darker skin and brown eyes? I cannot tell if any of them have dimples like me because none of them smiles. And why would they? They are being led to their deaths. I am placing my brother, whoever he is, in the cremation chamber. I cannot even tell who he is, cannot discuss our shared heritage. I can only keep moving the line forward.
It is difficult with just James, Rhen, and me. But the younger men were needed for the other part of our plan. So we do our best, sweat pouring down our faces as the room gets hotter and hotter. My eyes sting as sweat drips into my eyes, but I am bringing the next person—we only have seven remaining. Almost there. But I do not feel joy at that. I do not even feel relief. Fear is gripping me. So much could go wrong. We have no way of knowing if the plan is actually working. And when Loudin discovers what we have done, he could annihilate us all.
James looks as if he will fall over. Bright-red spots on his face and neck reveal just how overheated he is.
“Maybe we should stop, just for a moment. You need water.”
“We’re almost there.” Even his voice sounds parched. “We can’t stop yet.”
Rhen is as pale as James is red, and I am sure I look no better. We are spent. But there are only five remaining. We must carry on.
“If Loudin felt that Pod A was defective”—Rhen pulls her hair back into a ponytail—“why did he not annihilate them instead of Pod C when the oxygen levels were low?”
James wipes his forehead with his hand before speaking. “Because he wanted Thalli to suffer. He wanted her to hate him so she’d be more motivated to escape.”
This man and his “plans”—I want to crush him and his plans, destroy him the way he destroyed so many others. He sent me to the annihilation chamber knowing I’d be rescued, and he killed my pod just to make sure I’d continue with that escape?
I need to move, to work. “Let’s finish this.” I go to grab the next person in line and see there are four now, not five. I am so tired, so emotional, that I lost count. I rub my temples. Just focus, breathe.
James leans his palms against the chamber as the shelf slides in. He is panting.
“James, you need a drink.” I will not allow him to refuse. “Rhen and I can handle this. Go. We’ll be fine while you’re gone.”
I can see that while he wants to argue, he does not have the strength to do anything but nod. He knows I am right. Besides, we need him for the cleanup. We’re not finished when the final member of Pod A enters the cremation chamber. We still have the final portion of our plan to complete.
The next member of Pod A seems to be more alert than the others. Her eyes are wary and she is hesitant. I fear the drugs are wearing off. I look to Rhen, who speaks with a calming voice.
“We are here at Dr. Loudin’s request, as Dr. Turner’s Assistants.” Rhen takes the woman’s hand and pulls her toward the cremation chamber. “You will not feel any pain, I assure you, and in moments you will experience freedom like you have never known.”
The woman remains stiff, pulling away from Rhen as she pulls the woman toward her.
“Should I give her more medication?” I check the bin we used to transport the drug from the pharmacology laboratory. “Ten doses remain.”
Without taking her gaze off the woman, Rhen says, “That would be a good idea.”
I snap the vial into the syringe and hand that to Rhen. My hand is not steady enough to administer the shot.
Rhen slides the needle into the woman’s arm so quickly I barely notice it has happened. The woman jerks away, but within seconds, she is calm again and willingly lies on the shelf.
This is how King Jason got people to do what he wanted. It is what Loudin does. Now me. Us. We are becoming like those men to beat them? I shove away the guilt. There was no other way. Every other solution created more problems. This solution solves problems. If we had more time . . . maybe.
Rhen holds her hand out to me, and I have nothing to give her. The vial and the syringe. The next person. I get back to work.
The man on the shelf closes his eyes, and Rhen presses the button.
Nothing happens.
I check the chamber, and it has stopped humming. The room feels slightly cooler. Something has gone wrong. Maybe it has reached its capacity. None of us knew how many people could be placed in the chamber in one day. That was a concern James voiced. But with the chamber not working, we have no way to complete the task, and no way to communicate with Berk, Dallas, and Alex.
Rhen’s hand goes to her mouth. I follow her gaze and see the last member of Pod A holding the door open. There were five left. I was right. She must have left the floor. And if she left, there is only one place she would have gone, one person she would have found.
And there he is, storming through the door.
Loudin.