Robison Wells - Variant

“What the hell is this?” Hector breathed.

I pulled my paintball gun off my shoulder and fired three quick shots into the rabbit’s face, which knocked it back in an awkward jump. But it didn’t run. In the low light I couldn’t see if any damage had been done, but it was once again staring at us.

People behind us were screaming for answers, and Hector told them what was happening while I shot at a deer. I aimed for the eyes, trying to break whatever cameras were in there, but the deer hardly moved at all.

“Do they look like they’re going to attack?” Oakland asked, obviously annoyed.

“I don’t know,” I said over my shoulder. “What could a marmot do?”

I kept my eyes on the animals while I listened to the murmurs below. These robots looked for all the world like real animals except they were completely motionless.

“Okay,” Oakland shouted to the group. “Let’s get over this thing. Jump if you can—it’ll be faster—but don’t be an idiot and break your ankle. We ain’t carrying you.”

“What about the robots?” someone shouted.

“Hit ’em if they get close,” he answered. “That’s why we’re armed.”

Hector tied the cord to a thick branch of the fallen tree, and then took a deep breath and lowered himself down to the ground. I kept my gun trained on the robots, but none of them made any motion to attack. Not that my gun would have stopped them.

Oakland sent a few of the bigger guys over the wall next, and once ten were down, one of the Havoc kids tried swinging a shovel at a raccoon. It jumped out of the way amazingly fast but didn’t fight back.

I stayed on top of the wall, watching the rest of the Havocs go, then the Society. Finally the V’s climbed up the tree bridge. Becky stood on top of the wall now, and I climbed back down to help Carrie and Anna get Curtis up the logs. His fingers were curled tight, digging into my shoulder, and each breath sounded like an agonizing wheeze, as he tried to restrain himself from screaming in pain.

When he reached the top, he paused to catch his breath.

The students below were in a nervous cluster, staring outward at the endless sea of pines that continued before us. The animals had backed away, but were still in a loose semicircle around us.

We tied the cord around Curtis’s chest, under his arms. It wasn’t a good fix, and Carrie looked mortified as Anna, Becky, and I lowered him down. We couldn’t help but do it jerkily—Curtis was heavy—and he cried out when he finally hit the ground.

Carrie jumped down next, and then Anna and Becky.

On top of the wall, I turned for one final look back. I couldn’t see the school through the trees, and I wondered whether I’d ever see it in person again. Hopefully, I’d see it on the front page of the newspaper, with headlines about torture and imprisonment and I’d see Ms. Vaughn in an orange prison jumpsuit, being tried on dozens of counts of murder.

Below me, Oakland was already leading the group forward and into the forest. Guys with long-handled weapons—rakes and shovels and pruning hooks—walked ahead of the others, trying to shoo the robot animals away. Carrie was helping Curtis stay upright, and Becky was standing at the base of the wall, waiting for me.

I jumped. The ground was harder than I expected, and my shins stung on impact, but I was also filled with a sudden sense of elation. I didn’t know what lay ahead of us, but we had crossed the first obstacle.

This forest had sparser trees but thicker underbrush. We had to go slower now, fighting our way through the thick, dry bushes and grass. Becky and I were walking at the back now with Mason, Curtis hobbling up ahead of us. I felt isolated and vulnerable.

“This is bad,” she whispered. We had to look down to keep our footing, unable to properly keep a watchful eye on the forest.

Someone screamed, and everyone started talking at once. I couldn’t see what was going on, but they all started to run forward. Becky, Mason, and I jogged after them, slowed only by Curtis in front of us, who was staggering as quickly as he could.

“What happened?” I asked, trying to look ahead.

“Maybe they just got spooked,” Mason said.

“I have the gun,” Curtis wheezed.

I nodded, not taking my eyes off the people up front. “We might need it.”

Oakland’s voice wasn’t far, and I could hear him ordering the students to stay together and to keep moving.

“We’ll be okay,” I said, almost automatically. I didn’t know whether the assurance was more for them or for me.

People shouted up ahead. I tensed but quickly realized they were joyful cries. As we got closer we could see the fence, the chain link reflecting in the moonlight. We were there, and maybe the worst part was over. The animals were there, too, but everyone was ignoring them.

Hector and Joel were already up front, hacksaw and shovel in hand, attempting to get through the sturdy chain link. Becky ran forward, dropping to her knees at the fence line. She put the mouth of the pruning shears onto a wire and then strained to close it, trying to snap the thin steel. It wasn’t cutting, so I joined her, my arms next to hers on the handles, trying to force the blades closed.

I grunted and Becky let out a labored cry, and the shears snapped the wire.

There were cheers behind us, and we moved to the next one.

My arms burned, and sweat dripped down my back, despite the freezing temperatures. Becky’s forehead was wet with tiny droplets, and her skin was pulled tight as she clenched her jaw. We clipped another. And then another. By the time we’d snapped through ten of the wires, we were surrounded, everyone applauding each little success. Finally, Hector, who had given up with the hacksaw, told us to get out of the way and he began unweaving the steel links. In a few minutes there was a hole in the fence big enough to climb through.

He held it open proudly and gestured for Becky to go through. She grinned, her face beaming, and for the first time in almost a year and a half, Becky walked outside the fence. I followed her, and it was as though I were stepping out of a dark closet. Even though we remained in the same endless forest, it felt easier to breathe, like a heavy weight had been taken off my chest.

People were streaming through the hole now—Gabby, Hector, a few unarmed Society kids, Oakland, Mouse. All were moving with confidence and surprise; I don’t think any of us expected we’d get this far.

“That’s enough. Very good.”

My heart fell into my stomach.

All the students were frozen. Ms. Vaughn had a Taser in her hand and another on her belt. Other than that, she was completely unarmed and alone.

She raised a finger and pointed. “I wouldn’t go through there,” she said simply and quietly. I looked back to see Mash standing at the hole.

“Why not?” he demanded and then tried to climb through. The moment his hand touched the chain link he froze and convulsed. We all stared in horror until one of the Society guys kicked Mash’s feet out from under him and he fell, releasing his grip on the now-electrified fence.

“Turn it off,” I shouted. “Let them through.”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe that’s going to happen.” Once again, she pointed at the fence. “You’ve broken the rules, quite severely, and you all know the punishments.”

Firing erupted from somewhere behind the fence and I turned to see one of the Society girls firing her gun at the other students. Some shot back, but the same paint that was stinging their skin and threatening their eyes didn’t phase her at all. She calmly lowered her gun and raised a butcher’s knife.

“You see?” Ms. Vaughn said. “I’m not alone.”

I spun, raising my gun at Ms. Vaughn.