Chapter Thirty-Seven

Caleb

Nessa tugged at my tie, straightening it and tucking it into the pinstriped blazer I was wearing. It felt like a noose around my neck, but I tried to ignore it. I could survive a few short hours in discomfort.

"You ready?" Nessa asked, her eyes glinting. It was finally the big day, the day of the ceremony—and more importantly, the day of the rebellion. The one hundred candidates had arrived the late the night before, and were immediately brought to a hotel near the residential building. Today's agenda included a small introduction ceremony in the East Room on the first floor, then a large, widely publicized formal initiation on the front steps of the Capitol Building. If the Pro-Inferiors had their way, though, the second ceremony would never happen.

"Yeah," I lied distractedly. "Are you?"

"Of course," she murmured, stepping away from me. As Miracle's consultant, Nessa's work in the ceremony was done behind the scenes; she handled the reporters and publicity aspects of the event. And because of that, she had to head downstairs before Miracle got suspicious. "You know the plan, right?" she whispered.

I nodded discreetly. "I've got it."

"Great." A smile broke out across Nessa's face, smoothing out the tense frown lines etched across her features.

"Nessa, are you ready to go?" Nessa whipped around to face a guard who had just appeared in the doorway. He, too, was dressed formally, and stood up straight, his expression solemn.

"Ready," Nessa replied, smoothing the front of her pantsuit.

As the pair walked out the door, Nessa looked back at me and grinned. Be ready, she mouthed.

Delaney

"Would you quit that?" I glared at Abby, who was pacing restlessly across the room. She stopped, gave me a dry stare, and then continued. "Abby, please. You're making me nervous."

Eyes narrowed, she whirled around to face me. "Oh, I'm sorry," Abby snarled, her tone bitingly sarcastic. "I'm just a little bit worried. My bad, it's totally the wrong time to be anxious. What was I thinking?"

I sighed and flopped back onto my bed. "I'm not blaming you," I said patiently, "but I'd appreciate it if you'd stay still."

Trai spoke up. "Abby has a terrible of habit of pacing whenever she wants to think things out. You'll have to excuse her irritating idiosyncrasies."

"No kidding," I muttered. "Calm down, Abby. We'll be fine."

"I'm not worrying about us," she said shrilly. "I'm worrying about Caleb. Nessa hasn't so much as mentioned him these past few days. Haven't you thought about him at all?"

Quite honestly, I hadn't. Abby saw that in my face and looked away, disgusted. "Of course not; all you're thinking about is yourself. Why am I even surprised? Selfish coward," she muttered.

"Abby!" Trai scolded, looking at his sister in shock

Anger boiled up inside me. "You can go ahead an call me names all you want. Just remember that this selfish coward was the one who went all the way to Tukwila with your brother and was nearly caught by Superiors. She was the one who hacked into the government computer, and she was the one who exposed the Superiors' secrets on video for everyone to see. And what did you do, Abigail?"

First, a beat of silence. Then, Abby's face went red. She opened her mouth, about to retort, then closed it again. Her cheeks returned to their normal complexion.

"Fine," she grumbled. "I'm sorry."

"Wait, what was that?" I was enjoying the moment much more than I probably should have. "I couldn't hear you."

Her eyes flashed. "I'm sorry, okay? Jeez." She kicked the wooden footboard of her bed, her arms crossed defiantly.

I smirked in satisfaction. "Apology accepted."

Trai, who had been watching tensely during the exchange, now straightened and help up his hands in a placating gesture.

"Ladies, ladies," he said, "let's break it up, all right? If these are the last few hours of our lives, I'd rather we spend them not arguing."

I shuddered. I knew that Trai's comment was a joke, only meant to lighten up the atmosphere, but it worried me nonetheless. Abby must have felt the same way, because she began pacing again.

"Damn Nessa and Perfecta. We need to get out of here," she hissed.

Her brother rolled his eyes, saying, "Abby, we're going to be fine."

"When you say things enough times, you start to believe them," she replied hollowly, then her tone turned fierce. "We need to get the hell out of here."

I shook my head and sighed. "You know what, Abby? If you want to get out so badly, go climb through the air vent. In fact, I don't care what you do. Just stop your damned pacing."

Abby's mouth twitched and her eyes narrowed, as if she was about to argue, then, abruptly, she tilted her head, a thoughtful expression overtaking her features. She rocked back on her heels and tapped her chin, all the while looking up at the ceiling.

"Actually," she said, her lips curving into a mischievous smile, "that's not such a bad idea."

Caleb

"Caleb, there you are." Miracle intercepted me as I was stepping off the staircase to the first floor, grabbing my wrist and smiling smoothly.

"Hello, Miracle," I said, returning her smile despite myself. Her fingers, loosely circling my wrist, sent a warm, hypnotizing current flowing beneath my skin. I tried to nonchalantly slide my arm away, but her grip just tightened. Her eyes glinted dangerously.

"Where are you going?"

I tried my best to look unaffected by her, but it was hard, especially when she was leaning her head so close to mine. "To the ceremony," I responded through gritted teeth. "Why?"

"Perfect," she murmured. "Because I wanted to show you to your assigned seat before it begins."

I narrowed my eyes, leaning suspiciously away from her unblinking gaze. "Assigned seat?"

"Yes, darling." Finally, she released my arm and took a few steps back, and I could breathe again. "I wanted to give you the best seating possible. You'll be sitting with Champion and Charisma; is that all right with you?"

I chuckled internally, pleased with the way things were playing out. Miracle's seating arrangements were done because she was suspicious of me; I could see it in her eyes. But little did she know that she was only helping me along.

I allowed a smirk to curl my lips. "Yes," I affirmed. "That's perfectly alright."

Delaney

"Are you seriously going to make me do this?" I demanded incredulously, staring up at Abby. She was balanced on the edge of the bathroom sink, reaching toward the grated ventilation track above her head.

"This is idiotic!" Trai called from back in the room.

Abby stuck out her tongue in his direction, then glared down at me over her shoulder. "Make you do what?" she snapped. "I don't see you trying to get this thing open."

Muttering to herself, Abby braced one hand against the wall and jumped. For a split second she was airborne, pushing her hand into the grate. And then she was falling, crashing to her knees on the tiled floor.

"Dammit," she muttered. Tentatively, I held out a hand to help her up. She ignored it, instead using the top of the toilet to push herself to her feet. Rubbing her bruised knees, she called, "Trai, would it kill you to come and help me, here?"

"It would, actually," came her brother's response. Trai was the one who had retrieved Nessa's instructions (if you could call them that) the day before, because he was the only one tall enough to do so.

"Do you maybe want me to try?" I ventured.

Pausing abruptly in her movement, Abby gave me a dry stare. "Del, no offense, but you're even shorter than me. If I can't reach it, what makes you think you can?" She turned and jumped back up on the sink.

"Fine," I grumbled. "Point taken. But how do you expect to get that thing open once you do reach it? In case you haven't noticed, it's screwed into the wall."

Abby, about to jump, froze, looked at me, looked at the grate, and then kicked the wall. "Great," she growled, viciously muttering an expletive. She rubbed at her temples. "I hate to admit it, but you're right. Our only option is to break it down, and there's nothing that can—"

A sudden banging and a shout from the main room interrupted her. I straightened up automatically, and Abby jumped off the sink, landing silently.

"Trai?" I called out hesitantly. Abby slapped my forearm, but there was no response except for more banging and a muffled groan. Abby and I crept to the doorway of the bathroom, carefully looking to see what was going on.

"Trai!" I shouted. My friend was standing in front of a burly male guard, staring back at us. He was angled so that I had a perfect few of his hands, which were cuffed behind his back. I felt my eyes widen, and heard Abby gasp.

There was another guard standing beside the one holding Trai. This one was a platinum-haired woman with arms much too muscular to be natural and two pairs of handcuffs dangling from her pinky. She regarded us with raised eyebrows for a moment before commanding, "Get out of there. We have places to be."

I shrank back, knowing what was happening: the guards were going to take us away and turn us over to Miracle for our punishment. A jolt of fear shocked through me, and I was frozen in place. But Abby, being, well, Abby, stalked straight across the room until she and the woman were face to face. I didn't know whether she was brave or stupid, but one thing was for sure: she was great at hiding her fear.

"Don't tell me what to do, Blondie," she hissed coolly.

"Blondie" laughed. "Or what?" she demanded. "What are you going to do about it, brat?"

There was a beat of silence as Abby stared at the woman, her mouth hanging open. "Excuse me?" Her tone was dangerous and laced with the wild fire that comes from being scared, but Blondie didn't shrink back. If anything, she moved closer. "What did you just call me?" Abby advanced on the impassive guard, her eyes narrowed threateningly. "You should take that back," Abby suggested, leaning closer. I gripped the edge of the bathroom doorway tightly.

The woman blinked once, very slowly, and shrugged at her partner as if to say, "Whatcha gonna do?" Then, smirking slightly, she reached forward and slapped Abby straight across the face.

Caleb

Miracle took my hand as she led me into the ceremony hall, which was teeming with people. It seemed like every Superior in the Capitol was present, some of them standing around and talking, others sitting stiffly at one of the many circular tables that dotted the room. All of them wore dark glasses. A stage was set up against one wall with a wide curtain behind it. That, I presumed, was where the candidates were being kept until the start of the ceremony.

Teams of reporters from small, local news programs were the only ones allowed at this ceremony; the national news squad wouldn't be brought in until the affair reached the Capitol Building. They filled the empty spaces of the room, milling around in small groups and randomly approaching various Superiors, holding microphones in their faces and trying to ask questions. Every single Superior made a disgusted face, swatted at the mic, and stalked away.

One particular team had a camera with the words Seattle News printed on the side. That caught my eye immediately, since Nessa had mentioned that I came from Seattle, so when Miracle's attention wavered for a moment, I pulled away and eased closer to the crew.

"This year," the redheaded anchor was saying, "Seattle's top school, Ridgebourne High, had a last minute substitution for their male candidate. Caleb Payne, the expected candidate, was killed in a plane crash along with three other students on their way back from a Capitol tour only two days ago." She paused to shake her head sadly. "Though many are mourning the death of the charismatic Popular, another male had to become a stand-in. It was determined that Stevie Jackson, another well-liked teen, would go to the Capitol in Caleb's place." Tilting her head, the anchor flashed a too-large smile. "We wish Stevie the best of luck, and send our condolences to Caleb's family and friends."

I gaped as the reporter finished with her speech and stepped away from the camera. There's something distinctly disconcerting about hearing about your own death from a legitimate news reporter, especially when it's not true. The woman, for all her forced emotion on camera, now looked completely indifferent. She turned to grab a water bottle from a table against the wall, and as she did so, our eyes met from twenty feet away.

At first, the woman, kept moving. Then, all of a sudden, she froze, swiveling around slowly to look back at me. She stared at my face with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open. Her hand raised to point at me and her lips moved rapidly as she spoke to the tech-man beside her. Even though she was whispering, I could hear the words "It's him. Oh my god, it's him."

Just then, someone stepped in front of me, blocking my view of her. It was Perfecta, glaring at me sternly and holding out a pair of sunglasses. "Put these on," she growled.

Frowning, I did as she said. The shades, though tinted from the outside, were completely clear when I looked out of them. My vision wasn't affected at all.

"Thank you." Miracle appeared out of nowhere, nodding at Perfecta with grudging approval. Her own sunglasses were already in place. "Is Ris dealing with the woman?"

"Yes."

I glanced over Perfecta's shoulder just in time to see Charisma stalk over to the reporter and begin talking to her, pointing to the camera on her partner's shoulder and obviously asking about an interview. The woman seemed to have completely forgotten about seeing me.

It all happened in a heartbeat, and the two Superiors moved on before I had a chance to dwell on what had just transpired.

"Be more careful," Perfecta snapped.

"Sorry," I mumbled. Perfecta looked like she was about to scold me again, but Miracle stepped in before she could.

"It's alright," she said briskly. "Now come with me. And do not take those glasses off." She wound her fingers through mine and led me away before Perfecta could say anything more. I trotted along after her, not complaining as she brought me to a table in the center, where several Superiors, including my brother, were already seated. She hissed a smooth "stay here" into my ear and brushed her lips almost accidentally against my cheek, then turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Delaney

Without thinking, I gasped and jumped out of the bathroom. Abby recoiled from the guard's blow with one hand on her face and her mouth gaping open. There was a red mark on her cheek where the woman's hand had made contact.

Trai whirled around, looking like he wanted to do something, but his sister beat him to it. Her eyes alight with pure rage, Abby dove forward and shoved her hands into the woman's shoulders. The woman stumbled back and slammed into the wall with a resounding crash. The force of the impact sent the wall clock tumbling onto the ground. Its face shattered, and bits of glass scattered across the floor.

For a moment, the woman stayed slumped against the wall, and I wondered if she had hit her head too hard. But then she sprung back to her feet and grabbed Abby's arm, ruthlessly yanking her forward. Abby gritted her teeth and tried to pull away, but couldn't.

"Let go of me!" she screeched. She aimed a punch at Clara's face with her free arm, but the woman caught her fist. Then, her face solemn, she kicked Abby's legs out from under her, and Abby went sprawling onto the hardwood. Her head hit hard, slamming down loudly, and she lay still.

Trai shouted a curse, struggling against the guard to move toward his sister. "What did you do?" he demanded venomously.

"Nothing permanent," the guard said calmly, rolling her eyes. "She'll be fine. Cooperate, and so will you." As she spoke, she knelt down and snapped a pair of handcuffs onto Abby's wrists. "I'll take care of these two," she stated, nodding at her partner. "You get the other girl."

When the man's eyes lit on me, it was obvious who "the other girl" was. I glanced around me for someone to help, but between Abby, unconscious on the floor, and Trai, staring numbly at the wall, there wasn't much hope.

The man took a step forward.

I took a step back.

"So, I'm assuming that was referring to me?" I asked nervously, buying for time.

In response, he stepped forward again.

I shuffled backwards.

We repeated this nervous dance for several more steps until the backs of my thighs hit the wall.

"It'll be easier for you if you come quietly," he said.

"Yeah, well"—my eyes darted around wildly—"funny story, 'cause"—the man stepped toward me—"gotta go, bye!" As he lunged forward to grab me, I turned and bolted into the bathroom, tripping at the threshold and tumbling onto the tile.

I honestly don't know what I hoped to achieve by my attempted escape. The second I hit the floor, scorching my elbow across it in the process, I knew it was a mistake.

The guard stormed in and loomed over me, glowering. Shaking, I scooted back into the corner behind the toilet and hid there like a cornered animal. He advanced slowly, then grabbed my wrist with his iron grip.

I tried to struggle; really, I did. But let's face it: I'm five-feet tall, weigh a hundred pounds, and I've spend most of my life in front of a computer. So I'm not exactly the strongest person. Thus, it was easy for the guard to pull me to my feet and out of the bathroom, despite my attempts to stop him.

By the time we rejoined the woman, my hands were securely cuffed behind my back. Abby had woken up and was glaring fiercely at her guard. The male guard shoved me forward and I bumped into Trai, who flashed me a smile that looked more like a grimace.

Just then, a black cloth was pulled over my eyes, plunging my vision into darkness. I heard Trai shout out, and Abby curse, and knew that the same had been done to them.

"Where are you taking us?" I asked fearfully, as I heard the door open and someone pulled me through it.

"Just shut up and be patient," I heard the woman snarl. "We'll be there soon enough."

Caleb

I sat rigidly, refusing to make eye contact with the other Superiors at my table besides my brother. And even then, it was only a discreet glance; we had worked out what we were going to do and didn't want to draw any suspicion by acknowledging each other further. The Superiors that I hadn't met, however, were watching me curiously; I was a new face that they had never seen before

The stares made me uncomfortable, but I tried to ignore them as I glanced curiously around the room. The ceremony hall was large, with high ceilings and pale peach walls. Most of the tables were filled with Superiors by now, except for the ones closest to the stage, which were occupied by reporters. Guards with solemn faces lined the walls.

Just then, a hush fell over the room, shrouding us all in anticipatory silence. Around me, everyone's heads were turning toward the stage, where Miracle had just appeared. She smiled delicately and waved a hand to the crowd.

"Welcome, everyone, to this year's ceremony for the Chosen candidates," she greeted. "Students from the top fifty schools in the country have been brought to the Capitol on this special day to train for a position in the government. We're honored to welcome them into our ranks, and hope that they continue to thrive as they already have in their lives thus far."

Though Miracle's eyes were shielded by tinted shades, I could almost feel the cunning gleam in them. She had every single person in the room (myself included) hanging on her every word, and she knew it.

She was the queen.

It was like chess. Miracle, as the queen, was the most powerful piece on the board. She had few restraints and no regrets. Leary, it seemed, was the king, and her top advisers and colleagues were the knights, bishops, and rooks.

And the rest of us? That was obvious. We were pawns in this one-sided chess game, being moved carefully and examined thoroughly in order to be manipulated to Miracle's advantage. So while the head Superior was the queen, she also had another role, as the chess player.

I was drawn from my thoughts at that moment, as Miracle announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to our candidates for Superiority!"

Controlled applause filled the room, and when I looked around, I realized that all of the Superiors were clapping in perfect unison. It was unnerving.

"First, from Costner High School in Los Angeles, we have Jeannette Malory and Nick Bronson," Miracle introduced. The curtain moved behind her, and a boy and girl strode onto the stage, hand in hand. They moved to stand next to each other at the front of the stage, just behind Miracle. As the next couples entered, they lined up behind Nick and Jeanette until they reached the wall, then formed a new row.

About twenty names in, Miracle spoke the words I'd been waiting for. "Our next candidates hail from the busy city of Seattle, Washington," she proclaimed, and I swear she looked straight at me for a split second. "From Ridgebourne High School, we have Stevie Jackson and Carlie Heights."

Another smiling couple stepped through the curtain, both of them scanning the audience with excited eyes. I didn't recognize the boy, though his name sounded familiar, but I would know the girl anywhere. Nessa had told me about her, shown me pictures, and described the girl in great detail. It was Carlie Heights, my gorgeous, smart, and absolutely evil ex-girlfriend. We had been a power couple with a sure-fire chance at being Chosen. That is, until I was mysteriously "killed," and Stevie Jackson was put in my place. But, had events played out differently, her partner would not have been the flustered-looking blonde guy who clung to her arm.

It would have been me.