Graduation Day (The Testing, #3)(35)

Tomas’s arms pull me close. He tries to make me look away, but I can’t. My eyes stay focused on the scene behind the glass as feelings storm through me. Sorrow. Despair. Fear. Kerrick’s still body swims in and out of focus as tears continue to flow. I feel Tomas’s hands touch my injured leg. Fingers probe my wound. The screams I have been holding back claw out of my throat.

“I’m sorry, Cia,” Tomas says. His voice soothes even as his hands continue to touch the wound and cause pain. “We need to clean and bandage this. It looks like the bullet only grazed your calf, but it’s bleeding pretty bad. There’s a first aid room just down the hall. I think there should be something in there that I can give you for the pain.”

“It’s not that bad,” I lie. “We should get out of here while we can. I don’t know where the girl went, but she could be nearby.”

Tomas looks toward the greenhouse and shakes his head. “She’s not going to be coming after us. Marin’s in there.”

Despite the angry protest of my leg, I push to my knees. I follow the direction of Tomas’s gaze, squint through the haze of smoke that still lingers, and see Marin sprawled among a group of small shrubs. Marin. A name that until minutes ago I’d never heard and now will never forget.

“Do you know how to turn on the irrigation system?” I ask, concentrating on the smoke instead of Marin’s lifeless face. The plants inside are too green and healthy and the air too humid for everything to catch fire. Only the plants that were directly under the flare from the black powder burned, and while I doubt that they still burn, turning on the irrigation system will ensure that the fire goes out. It should also help dissipate the poisonous fumes that linger in the air.

“Stay here.”

“No.” I struggle to my feet. “I’ll come with you.” Despite the pain that moving causes, I don’t want to be alone.

Tomas slides an arm around my shoulder and helps me walk down the hall to the control booth. I ease into a wooden chair and watch as Tomas works the controls.

It takes him three tries to remember the sequence of buttons but eventually water sprays from pipes that hang from the greenhouse ceiling. After several minutes, Tomas turns off the water, hits a button marked Fan, and says, “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“The fence needs to be put back where it was, and I need to move the bodies where they won’t be discovered. Between the water and the fan, it should be safe to reenter the greenhouse.”

“I’ll help,” I say, starting to rise again.

“No.” Tomas puts his hand on my shoulder and pushes me back into the chair. “Stay here. Please. This is something I need to do by myself.”

Unshed tears shimmer in his eyes. I want nothing more than to hold him and help ease his pain. But I don’t. I know Tomas is trying to stay strong in front of me. So I just squeeze his hand and watch him leave.

Several minutes pass before Tomas appears behind the observation glass window. I watch him replace the fence so that it once again signals danger. Then he reaches down and picks up Marin’s lifeless body. His jaw tightens as his cheek brushes against Marin’s shoulder. Then with the body cradled in his arms, he disappears from view. When he returns, Tomas tries to lift Kerrick, but the weight is too much. He grips Kerrick’s ankles and drags the body away. I find myself wishing I had asked him to remove their bracelets as we did for those who fell during The Testing. To remember. As if we could ever forget.

I reach into my bag and check the tracking monitor. Both devices are located near each other, not far to the south of where I am now. I am glad to see two lights on the screen. It means Raffe’s is still active. He has not yet failed his test. It is something to be grateful for.

Tomas’s face is flushed but free of tears when he returns with medical supplies.

“Are you okay?” I ask, even though I know he’s not. How could he be after what has happened?

“Let’s worry about getting you patched up. Then we’ll talk.” He kneels on the ground and rolls up my pants leg. I flinch when I see the bloody tear in my flesh. I focus on Tomas’s face as he wipes the wound with a wet cloth. I bite my lip and taste blood but I do not call out.

Tomas’s hands shake as he spreads a healing ointment on my leg. As the medication begins to leech the pain from my flesh, he grabs the bandages and says, “Kerrick likes to help first-and second-year students with genetics homework. He has a way of explaining things that makes the most complicated theory accessible. He’s easy to talk to, and he never forgets a single detail. His memory is incredible.”

Likes. Has. Is. All present-tense. Despite carrying his dead body, Tomas has not accepted that Kerrick is gone.

“You talked to Kerrick about Dreu Owens.”

“You said Dreu had been given a job in Genetic studies. I was hoping that because Kerrick’s internship involves genetics, he might have heard of him.”

“Had he?”

“Kerrick says Dreu was assigned to the lab where he interned during his first year. He was working with a team to identify mutated genes in raccoons and rabbits. They were hoping once those genes are identified they can find a way to isolate the mutation and eventually eliminate it.”

“Where’s Dreu Owens now?” I ask.