[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

that.
I didn't want to be here. I wanted to go home. To
what? A mom who's washed her hands of me?
Yeah, good luck with that . Anything was better than
this, though.
 State your name, he insisted.
Again, I remained silent. I found myself really missing
my dad all of a sudden. Why couldn't I be one of
those girls with a father who rushed to her defense?
A father who broke down doors and broke the law to
save his little angel? Instead I had no one who would
rescue me.
I was on my own.
 State. Your. Name.
There was such unbending command in his voice
that my lips parted and words spilled out before I
could stop myself though I still didn't obey.  You
already know it. This is stupid.
 This is your last chance. State your name.  Or
suffer the consequences drifted through the air
unsaid.
 Phoenix Ann Germaine. Just get this over with , I
thought. Answer their questions and get out of this
hood. Get home. I didn't like that people were
watching me, judging me, especially since I didn't
know how many were here or even what they looked
like or what they were doing.
Each one of them could have a gun aimed at me,
finger poised on the trigger. With that thought, sweat
beaded over my skin. A cold sweat that somehow
heated my blood. The breath in my lungs
fragmented, making it hard to concentrate.
 You're seventeen years old? a clipped female
voice asked.
 Yes. Almost eighteen, I nearly added, but didn't
want to prolong the conversation in any way. I now
knew there were at least three people in the room
with me. Deep Voice, Roses, and the woman. I'd
give them no more than they asked for. No
elaboration.
 You are an Onadyn addict, another voice said, this
one male.  Yes?
That made four people. The entire room tapered to
quiet. Not even the rustle of clothes or paper could
be heard. I could feel their eyes burning into me,
waiting for my answer.
My jaw clenched.  Former addict, I gritted out.
A chair squeaked. Murmurs.  Why is she even
here? that same male said the one who'd asked
me if I was an addict.  This is ridiculous. A user is
always a user.
A minute passed; I strained to hear but he was never
given an answer.
 Do you still use, Phoenix? a hard feminine voice
asked.
If I answered yes, would I be sent home or be forced
to remain? Several heart-stopping minutes passed
while I considered my response. In the end, I opted
for the truth.  No. I told you. I'm a former user.
Pause.
Then,  When was your last dose?
 A few months ago, I answered, once again opting
for honesty.
 Why should we believe you?
Surprise swept through me, potent and strong. Ryan
was here. I'd recognize that raspy tone anywhere.
He hadn't sounded insulting or sneering. No, he'd
sounded expectant. Why?
And what was he doing here? Was he a counselor at
the camp?
 Answer the question, Deep Voice commanded.
I shrugged.  My own mother doesn't trust me, so why
should anyone else? Not only had I used drugs, but
I'd slept around, lied, and stolen. No wonder Mom
hadn't believed me , I thought bitterly. I'd been a
nightmare.
Maybe I did deserve this place.
I'm different now. Don't forget.
 I'd like to hear more about your mother. Do you hate
her for not trusting you? Do you blame her?
another woman asked.
I shook my head.  No. I don't hate or blame her.
She'd taken care of me for as long as she'd been
able. I was hurt, I couldn't deny that. But they hadn't
asked that, so I didn't say it.
 Are you angry with her?
I paused, then answered honestly,  Yes.
 Why?
 Because, I said.
 Because why? Deep Voice insisted.
 Because she should have loved me enough to keep
me. Because she should have loved me enough to
try again. Because I'm an idiot. Is that what you want
to hear?
Someone chuckled. Ryan, I think, because the sound
of it warmed me.
Still, I ran my tongue over my teeth. I didn't want to be
amusing. I wanted to be dismissed.
Except& more than leaving, I found that I wanted to
know what Ryan was doing here. If he wasn't a
counselor, had he been sent to the camp after that
fight? If so, why was he allowed to be here during my
interrogation?
 How do you feel about other-worlders, Phoenix?
Deep Voice asked.
I handled the switch in topics with ease.  Which
ones?
 All of them, was the flat response.
 Lumping every species into one category is like
lumping all humans into one category. Some are
different. Let's take this group, for instance. Each
one of you is a bastard, but that doesn't mean the
two kids in the car outside are bastards, as well.
A girl sucked in a breath. A guy cleared his throat.
 I want her out, someone muttered.  Finishing the
interview is pointless.
 If we let her in and the others start to act like her& 
If my wrists had been free, I might have flipped the
speaker off. Something about her irked me. She
was so superior.  So, how many people are here? I
asked.
 A good agent can figure that out without the use of
her eyes, a girl said. Allison Stone, I realized with
another dose of shock.
She was here, too? Oh, that burned! And what did
she mean,  agent ?  Why aren't I allowed to see any
of you?
 We'll ask the questions, Allison snapped.
 Well, then, I'll decide whether or not to answer, I
replied in the same snotty tone she'd used.
 That's music to my ears, user.
 Allison, Deep Voice said.  Shut your mouth or
leave. I allowed you to sit in because you're about to
graduate and one day you'll help run this camp. Don't
make me regret my decision.
She would help run it?  This is a joke, right? You're
all actors trying to bring back that practical joke
show.
No one replied.
 She has a serious attitude problem, I heard.
Again with the mutterings. I rolled my eyes. Not that
they could see me.
 She'll be too hard to control, someone else offered.
 Yes, but she has passion. That came from Ryan.
 She's had no training. She was drinking that night,
but still fought the Sybilins like a highly trained agent.
If she hadn't been there, we could have lost.
 Agent & that was the second mention. What kind of
agent?
 There's her drug problem to contend with.
 True.
 And it will be a problem. A big one.
They were speaking so quickly and so quietly, I had
trouble making out who was saying what. But I
offered,  No problem at all since it's a former drug
problem. And if one of you told my mother that I was
smoking Onadyn that night in the forest, I'll kill you.
 She's violent and bloodthirsty at least; I'll give her
points for that, that clipped female voice said. And
she sounded happy about the statement.
They wanted me to be violent and bloodthirsty?
Really, what the hell kind of place was this?
 You always pick the violent ones, Mia, Deep Voice
said.  I'm not sure this one's worth the effort, though.
Bastard.  Who are you people? I demanded. I
pulled on the laser that bound my wrists together,
trying to free myself so that I could remove the hood.
But it hurt, and I stilled. Already the skin felt raw and
irritated. Much more and I might lose a hand.
No thanks.
 We have a few more questions for you, little girl,
then maybe you'll find out. Roses.
My mom often called me  little girl and it irritated me
every time. Ryan had called me that, too. I wanted to
call this guy  old man, but didn't dare. For all I knew,
he had a gun pointed at my temple like I'd first
feared. Or maybe he had a knife balanced over my
head, ready to drop at any moment.
 If she fails, kick her out, Mia said.  I want her to
have a chance, at least.
 I've read her file, and she's got  problem' written all [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]