Extracted

Jeremy

I can’t sleep. There is too much to think about. Jeremy is alive. And here. And looking like some other kid just like I am. Tears prickle hot against the back of my eyelids.

How did this happen? I can come up with a million scenarios and it still doesn’t make sense. Body jumping, a mutual hallucination? Drugs? Alien abduction. Nothing sounds better than a bad science fiction movie. Beware of the soul-snatching clones! Run for your lives!

I roll onto my side, facing Cecelia in the other bed. She sleeps serenely on her back, not a care in the world, hands tucked beneath her chin. She looks so beautiful, perfect and flawless. She doesn’t seem like she could possibly be real. Like a doll made of porcelain. We all are. Beautiful. As though the plague was designed to only allow the beautiful and strong to live through it.

I press the heel of my hand against my eye. My face hurts. I have a large bruise where Benjamin slugged me. What is really true?

Katherine, the orphan who survived a terrible plague, or AnnaLee, who has a family out there and a little brother who is just as lost and scared in this strange school?

I didn’t imagine that move Gideon pulled. I recognized it. That’s Jeremy.

Argggh. I sit up. I can’t sleep.

Schizophrenia, my mind supplies. Multiple Personality Disorder. Yeah, that’s a possibility that actually makes sense, except could someone with either disorder diagnose themselves?

Geez, I’m not crazy. Just heading that way if I don’t figure this out.

I have to see him. I have to know. Besides, whether he is Gideon or Jeremy, I have an overwhelming need to make sure he’s okay.

I slip quietly out of bed and go over to the door. I glance back at Cecelia. She hasn’t stirred, and I ease open the door. Fortunately they do not lock from inside or out. My pulse speeds up. I don’t remember a specific rule about getting out of bed after lights out. Going to the bathroom has to be allowed, right?

Cold perspiration beads along the nape of my neck. My bare feet are cold on the tiles. Outside the student lounge, it’s snowing. Soft fluff coats the equipment.

I hurry through into the hall of classrooms and pass them to the main halls that lead to Ms. LeRoy’s therapy room and the director’s office. It’s not completely dark in the halls with subdued lighting fixtures embedded within recesses in the ceiling.

I take a deep breath, unsure how many trainers or instructors or those guards that escort kids to the lab might be on night duty. I hesitate, rethinking my action.

But Jeremy’s only down the next hallway. I’ve come this far and I have to see him. I can’t wait until he’s released.

Something deep and ugly curls in my belly. If they do release him. The thought came out of nowhere. It’s irrational, but now that it’s in my mind, it takes hold.

Swallowing, I step out into the hallway and hurry past the offices. The director’s door gives me a deep chill and I move even faster.

At the end of the T intersection of the halls, muted voices hush across the walls. I peek around the corner and look both ways, but no one is there. Whoever’s talking must be around the next corner.

I should go back before I’m caught and get in trouble.

I’m breathing so hard my ribs hurt. The door to the infirmary’s right there. All I have to do is run across the hall.

I slink back, afraid. No, that’s Jeremy. He’s in there. I just have to go in there and look into his eyes. I’ll recognize him. I’ll know for sure…

Resolved, I dash across the hall and pull the door open, hoping there aren’t any of the medical staff in there doing nightly rounds.

There aren’t. I ease the door closed behind me and look around. Like when I was in here that first night, there are kids in most of the beds. I wonder how many are newly awakened from the memory-stealing illness and how many have been injured in the gymnasiums. Or come back from the labs.

That first night when I awoke, Jeremy and Tyler could have been in the infirmary at the same time and I never knew.

I see his soft dark hair poking out of the blankets from a bed in the middle of the row of beds on the far side. I hurriedly cross over.

He’s on his side, hands tucked beneath his cheek, one arm in a clean white cast, knees curled up, exactly the position Jeremy sleeps in and my heart swells up so full it hurts.

“Jeremy,” I whisper, running a hand along his soft hair.

Unconsciously, he shifts closer into my hand. “Jeremy, wake up.”

His dark lashes flutter across his cheeks and lethargically lift, revealing light golden brown eyes. I try to find Jeremy in those eyes, window to the soul and all that, but there isn’t anything recognizable. The features are all different. It’s only the gestures I recognize. I hope I’m not wrong about this.

His nose scrunches as he focuses on me. I want him to say my name, AnnaLee, and hold his arms out to me like he did when he was younger. Puzzlement draws his brows down.

“Katherine?” His gaze tracks around the dark ward and the other slumbering kids before coming back to me. “Why are you here?”

Disappointment washes through me, which is dumb. What was I expecting? Instant recognition? He’s just a kid who woke up from a traumatic illness, not knowing anything about who he is. He may not even be my brother. .

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” My voice is raw. I blink back a hot press of tears, grateful for the low light.

His eyes narrow in the same way Jeremy’s do when he doesn’t believe me and it’s like an icepick through my heart. He lifts his casted arm. “It’s fine. A clean break. I’ll be back in class tomorrow. You could have asked then.” His eyes are questioning why I bothered to come. Nobody here does that.

“You should go back,” he whispers. “Before they catch you.”