Variant

I wondered how old she was, how old she’d been two and a half years ago. But the doors opened before I could ask.

“Well, if it isn’t the new kid and his girlfriend,” Skiver said. I ignored him and pushed my way outside, turning to make sure they didn’t stop Jane.

“Just heading to the incinerator,” I said. Jane didn’t seem bothered by Havoc, but she didn’t look at either of them in the face. When she was past them we headed toward the back of the school.

In the distance, closer to the forest’s edge, I could see one of the Society’s guards on a four-wheeler.

“You need some alone time?” Skiver shouted. They were walking slowly, following us.

“How old are you?” I asked Jane, trying to get her mind off Havoc.

She looked up at me with a smile. “How old do I look?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Seventeen?” I figured it was probably best to aim high.

“Sixteen,” she said. “I’ll be seventeen in June.”

Skiver wasn’t far behind, but it didn’t look like he was trying to do anything other than intimidate us.

“So when you got here,” I said, trying to do the math in my head. She cut me off.

“Thirteen. Pretty great, huh?”

I couldn’t imagine coming into a place like this so young. No one here now was younger than fourteen, and there were only a few of them. I looked over at her. I wanted to say something-it seemed so terrible-but I couldn’t think of anything.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Seriously. That’s what I keep telling you. This place isn’t that bad once you get used to it.”

“It’s all you’ve ever known.”

She rolled her eyes and grinned. “That’s a little melodramatic.”

The incinerator was a big rectangular machine, about eight feet tall, and it smelled terrible. Curtis had told me that I didn’t need to do anything to operate it-it was all automatic. A small sign indicated where to put the trash, and I tossed the first bag inside.

Skiver shouted, “Nice job at paintball yesterday.”

I lifted the next bag up and in, and then the third.

Skiver turned to goading Jane. “Did you know your little Benson wasn’t in his room last night? I think he’s cheating on you. But for some reason he was still in the boys’ dorm. I wonder what that means?”

I threw the last two bags in the incinerator and then turned to look at Skiver. He was smiling nastily. But the girl behind him had left.

I wanted to punch him in the teeth. Not for anything he’d said or even anything he’d done to me. I just felt like hitting him.

Jane took my hand in hers. “Come on.”

I nodded and inhaled deeply. Holding her hand felt comfortable, but I knew I was squeezing too tight-angry about Skiver.

We’d only taken a few steps when I noticed a small door in the side of the building. Judging by the slope of the grass, I figured it had to go into the basement, but I didn’t remember seeing any exterior doors while I was down there.

“Do you know where that goes?” I asked Jane. The image of the detention room was clear in my mind, and I knew there had to be more to the basement, something deeper down.

She shrugged.

We walked up to it but didn’t hear a buzz, and the knob was locked.

“What are you doing?” Skiver shouted.

I turned to him. “Do you know where this door goes?”

“What do I look like, an architect?”

“No, you definitely do not.”

He snarled and walked down to me. I listened for the buzz, but it didn’t happen for him either. So, the door wasn’t opened for maintenance or groundskeeping.

“Aren’t you supposed to get back inside and scrub toilets or something?” he said.

Jane’s fingers curled tightly around mine.

I breathed out, long and slow. “I guess we’d better.”

That night I went to talk to Curtis. He was lying on his bed, fiddling with his computer.

I knocked on the open door. “What’s up?”

He sat up. “Oh, hey, Benson. Just entering the contract bids.”

Curtis punched a few buttons, and then closed the computer with a click. “Speaking of which, we get paid tomorrow-you’ll have a few points.”

“Nice,” I said, and leaned against his wall. “Too bad I won’t be able to afford a fancy new ball gown for the dance.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry. Most of the guys will just wear their uniforms. The girls can buy dresses if they want, but I doubt many guys will waste our points on it.”

“I was wondering if I could ask you something,” I said, looking toward his window. It was dark out now, and the moon was just over the horizon. There wasn’t any haze.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“How long have you been here?”

“Not as long as some, I guess. Maybe a year and a half. I’ve stopped paying attention.”

“Were there ever more students than there are now?”

He nodded, as if my questions weren’t surprising. He clasped his hands together and gazed at the floor. “You mean total numbers? Or do you mean, have people ever left?”

“Total numbers,” I said. “I already know people have left. Died.”

He glanced up at me. “I’ve never seen a body, you know. I mean, other than the war.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve never seen a body of someone sent to detention. I always hold out hope. Maybe they’re alive.”

“But I heard about what happens with detention,” I said. “I heard about the blood.”