6 Digit Passcode Page 4

  “I – we weren’t expecting you.” Roma’s voice is wavering more than I’ve ever heard it do. I peer around the corner, and immediately understand why.

  There is a young man standing opposite her. He’s slim, with hair so blond it’s nearly white, and skin that looks smooth and stiff like porcelain. But it is the red chip glowing in the middle of his forehead that gives him away.

  What’s a Digit doing here, of all places?

  I don’t hear what he says in response, but whatever it is, it seems to upset Roma. She wrings her hands together and shifts her weight from one foot to the other like’s she’s anxious.

  The next thing I know, she’s turned around and is beckoning me towards her. I freeze. How long has she known I’ve been listening?

  Slowly, I pull myself out of the bathroom and shuffle down the hall. I can hear Fray getting dressed in our room, pulling out drawers and riffling through his meager supply of clothing, and I am envious. All I want is to run into the room with him and lock the door behind me. I wish I had stayed in the bathroom. Would it have made a difference if I had?

  The Digit jerks his lips in a crooked smile as I approach. I’ve always found that expression creepy on their faces. There’s something unnatural about those… things smiling that unsettles me.

  “What’s going on?” I ask Roma, standing awkwardly at her side and doing my best to avoid looking at the man in the doorway.

  Roma doesn’t answer, instead shooting me a look that is full of both pity and caution.

  “Are you Everly Garrow?” the Digit asks me. His voice sounds so… human.

  I nod, chancing a glance at him. He looks me up and down like he’s analyzing me. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had a scanner in his brain or something. If he even has a brain, that is. Maybe that’s what his microchip is for.

  “I need you to come with me,” the man continues. “There is something I need to discuss with you.”

  Roma leans towards me and bumps her arm against my shoulder. She’s not looking at me anymore. What’s going on?

  I choose my words carefully; I don’t know what my mother said to the Digits that got her killed, but I can’t afford to make the same mistake. “If this is about work,” I begin, “then it’ll have to wait. I’ve got school today. I don’t work again until Friday.”

  “It needs to be discussed now,” the Digit repeats. “I have already informed your teachers of your absence. This won’t take long.”

  I’m starting to get kind of annoyed. What right does he have, coming into my home – place of residence – and telling me what to do? I understand that the Digits are in charge, and I’ve never questioned that fact before. But my parents were just murdered by their people. What more are they going to do to mess up my life?

  Apparently, this. No school – which, to be honest, I won’t miss very much – and a forced interrogation. Great.

  “So, what is it? I don’t really have much to offer, just so you know. My grades aren’t even very good. I’m sure there are loads of more qualified people you can talk to about – whatever it is you want to talk about.”

  I’m feeling a little nervous now, though I would never admit that to anyone. I have the uncomfortable sense that this has something to do with my parents, but I’m really hoping I’m wrong. I don’t want to talk about them, especially not to the people responsible – even if inadvertently – for their murders.

  “Come with me,” the Digit says, ignoring my comments completely. He gestures outside and holds the door open for me with one hand.

  “Wait, right now? I’m not even ready. I still have to brush my teeth, and Fray will probably need help tying his shoes. And I’ve got to walk him to school, since Crissy’s working today. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

  I realize I’m rambling only after it’s too late to stop. When I’m uncomfortable, I talk a lot more than I should. The silence bothers me. It makes me think too much.

  “No,” the man says, with a bit more authority than before. “Now.”

  I can’t tell if it’s because I’m angry or frightened, but my stomach is churning and I feel like I’m going to throw up. I hate this power that the Digits have over us all. I should be able to say ‘no’ to something I don’t want to do, but I can’t.

  That’s what my mother tried to do, and I don’t want to end up like her.

  “Go, dear.” Roma finally looks at me, and her expression is still unreadable. “I’ll take care of your brother. Be back by dinner, though. It’s meatloaf; your favorite.”

  She’s trying to cheer me up, and in some ways, she’s actually succeeding. Whatever I’m going to be doing, I’ll be done before dinner and I’ll get to come back home afterwards. So it really is just a few questions.

  “Fine,” I spit out, directing more malice at the man than I probably should. He doesn’t say anything, just pushes the door open wider and waits for me to walk past it.

  I do. There’s a lump in my throat that I can’t swallow down. I keep thinking about my parents. Last time they were alone with these creatures they died. And I get the feeling that my brother and I were supposed to die with them.

  I have to be careful.

  Chapter five

  “You don’t need to be so tense,” he says, though his voice suggests exactly the opposite. “I’m not going to hurt you. I know who you are – we all do.”

  He pauses, and I almost say something, but I manage to hold myself back. We’re walking side-by-side, but somehow, my strides are longer than his and I have to actually slow myself down to match his pace. If I look closely enough, I can see a slight limp in his left leg as he walks.

  Huh. Either he’s purposely walking crookedly, or not all Digits are as perfect as they appear to be.

  “I’m sorry about your parents.” My pulse starts racing and my head jerks back before I’ve even properly registered what he’s saying. “I assure you that I had nothing to do with it. And the punishment will be grievous for those responsible when they are caught.”

  My head is pounding, and my legs begin shaking so badly that I have trouble keeping up with his slackened pace. He waits for me, and his kindness surprises me. Is he trying to be nice to me just because he has a job for me to do? Because he’s trying to manipulate me into forgetting that it was his race that murdered my parents?

  Or is it possible that the Digits have some semblance of emotion, some human aspect to them after all?

  I’m not sure I want to know the answer. I would rather just go on hating the whole lot of them than have to pick and choose which ones I trust and which ones could be out to kill me.

  “Thank you,” I say, forcing the words out. “Do you… have any idea why they…?”

  Immediately after the words leave my mouth I regret them. Curiosity is a dangerous thing, especially now that I am walking beside a man who could destroy me in any manner of ways if I so much as put one finger where I shouldn’t.

  But he doesn’t seem angry. If anything, he seems amused.

  “Why your parents had to die?”

  My stomach clenches at his use of the words ‘had to’; that makes it seem like my parents did something to deserve being murdered. But I ignore the thought and nod instead.

  “That is an excellent question. You shouldn’t be afraid to ask the things you seek answers to. As I told you before, I do not intend to harm you.” I don’t believe him, but I don’t tell him so. Contrary to what he says, I know better than to think that I can truly speak my mind around him. “But I’m afraid that I don’t have an answer for you. I didn’t cause your parents’ deaths. Only the person who did can tell you their reason for doing so.”

  Maybe they didn’t have a reason, I think. Maybe my parents were innocent. They did nothing to deserve what happened to them. Of all the things I do not know, that’s the one thing I am certain of.

  We walk halfway across the town before we arrive at what appears to be our destination. People on the streets don’t look twice at us, and I unders
tand why – from a distance, Digits look exactly like humans. It’s only when you get close to one that you realize what you’re facing, and by then it’s too late.

  The building my escort leads me to is large and unassuming, made of dark brown bricks that are worn and cracked like they’ve been around for years without having ever been repaired. He opens the door for me, and I hesitantly step inside. I don’t know what to expect. I don’t even know what I’m here for. Is it a factory? Or maybe an office?

  But it’s not anything that I would have guessed. It’s a laboratory; or at least, a scaled-down version of one. There are several chairs positioned behind desks that form a circle around the center of the room. On each table is an electronic device that I do not recognize. There are a couple of computers, but they’re far more advanced than the ones I’ve used in school. And in the very center of the room is a circle painted on the floor, with wires and metal instruments attached to the ceiling above it and television monitors on each side.

  What am I doing here?

  “Don’t worry,” the Digit who brought me here tells me, resting one hand on my shoulder; it’s surprisingly light. “It’s just a few questions; think of it as a sort of test – like the ones you take in school. After you’ve finished, you can return to your life as normal.” He removes his hand and holds it out to me, stepping back and watching me until I take it. “We’re not all as bad as you might think. My name is Cyrus. It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Everly.”

  A shock flows through my arm as our hands touch, but I don’t think it has anything to do with the connection. His hand is cold and smooth, and it feels just like human skin, except a little bit tougher. I didn’t expect him to have a name. The only other Digits I know are my teachers, and they’re only referred to by letters of the alphabet. And Cyrus is such a normal name. It’s so… human.

  I don’t like this feeling. I don’t want to get to know him. I don’t want to like him. His kind is responsible for tearing apart my family; I don’t care if he wasn’t the one who did it personally. I’m starting to believe him when he says that he means me no harm, that he’s trying to help me. No, I can’t. He’s lying to me. He has to be.

  “You too,” I manage after a moment’s contemplation. It’s hard to stop myself from saying anything more.

  Cyrus leaves, and another Digit – this one a woman – approaches me. There are two more people in the room; both, I assume, are Digits, and both are men. They are seated in chairs near the corners of the room, typing so quickly I get a headache just looking at their hands.

  The woman is at least a head taller than I am, with long, curly brown hair and dull green eyes. Like most Digits, she’s thin, but she’s got the curves of a human female, with broad hips and a bust that puts mine to shame. Next to her, I feel like a little girl. I wonder how old she is. She could be twenty, or fifty, or one hundred, and there’s no way to tell just by looking at her.

  “Hello,” she says to me, her voice so sweet it irritates me. She smiles. “My name is Tesla. Oh! Are you surprised that we have names? There’s a lot more to us than you know. You’ll learn soon enough.”

  Tesla leads me to one of the desks and tells me to sit down. I do, even though all I really want to do is run out the door and keep going until I disappear. Instead, I scoot my chair forward and settle into it as comfortably as I can.

  She sits across from me and leans one arm against the computer desk beside us. There are small divots in her skin on either side of her elbow, and again at her wrists. She’s made of machinery, at least on the outside. But what about inside?

  “You look confused,” Tesla says, clearly amused. “Did Cyrus not tell you why you’re here?”

  I shake my head, and the woman laughs. As much as Cyrus tried to sway me in the direction of liking Digits, she’s doing just enough to push me in exactly the opposite direction. I glare at her, but she doesn’t seem fazed by it at all.

  “It’s about your parents, of course. Even you must have been able to figure out that much.”

  I bite my tongue and sit on my hands to keep myself from reacting to her words. I know that’s what she wants from me. And there’s no way I’m going to give her the satisfaction of knowing that she got to me so quickly.

  When I don’t reply, she continues, with more seriousness in her tone this time.

  “I need you to tell me about the night your mother died.”

  I can think of more than a few things I would like to say to her, questions of my own and angry retorts that I have to fight to swallow down. But one thought bubbles up first, and I can’t help myself from answering her question with one of my own.

  “What about my father? He died too. I… I saw it happen.”

  Tesla taps her index finger against the desk. “We have inconclusive evidence on that matter. When we arrived on the scene, there was only one body to be found. Now, the amount of blood he lost is certainly more than enough to have killed him, but without a body – ”

  “Stop,” I interrupt her. I try to keep my tone level, but the curl of her lips suggests that some of my frustration has seeped through. “I already know. I – I’ve seen it. You don’t need to remind me.”

  “You asked.”

  I incline my head and look away. Maybe if I slouch back far enough, I will shrink into my chair and disappear.

  I can feel Tesla’s eyes watching me, and I desperately wish she would speak again and scatter the jumble of thoughts building in my head and on my tongue. The more she talks, the less I have to. But I’m having trouble holding myself back now that I’ve already started.

  “Hold on,” I say, sitting up again. “You’re talking about how much blood my father lost. That means you’ve been inside of my house.”

  I shudder and hope Tesla doesn’t notice. The monsters that murdered my family came back into our home afterwards to document the success of their crime. There’s no other explanation. I don’t care if Cyrus or Tesla or any of the other Digits I’ve encountered weren’t directly involved in my parents’ deaths. The things they’ve done are just as bad.

  Tesla sits up straighter and rolls her shoulders. “Not me, personally. But yes, Cyrus and a few others did a little investigating a couple of days after it happened.” I open my mouth to interrupt her again, but she holds up an index finger and speaks over me. “And before you say anything, they didn’t go because they’re responsible. Your neighbor called us. She said she saw two young children walking out of the house covered in blood and carrying suitcases.”

  I balk, feeling a little guilty. It was – sort of – my fault, then, for taking Fray outside with our clothes still filthy and expecting that no one would notice. And, of course, anyone who sees something as strange as blood-soaked children is going to call the Council, which I’m sure Cyrus is connected to in some way. An investigation is a good thing, really, if it means that the creatures that killed Mama and Papa are caught and punished.

  Tesla nods and continues like the flow of conversation hasn’t faltered. “So, then, your mother. You were with her, is that correct? You and your little brother?”

  “Yes. Mama – our mother was helping us with our homework.”

  One of the Digits behind Tesla is typing quickly on his keyboard. I can’t see what he’s writing, but every so often one of the strange electronic devices in the middle of the room lights up blue and beeps a couple of times.

  “I see,” Tesla hums. “So your father was at work? Tell me what happened after he came home.”

  “He, um…” My face heats up and my voice breaks. “He tried to warn us. He knew they were coming. My mother… She took Fray and I upstairs and told us to hide, but I saw them come in and I heard…”

  I try to finish my sentence but I can’t. The words get stuck in my throat and the more I think about that day the more vivid the memories are that are fleshed out as I describe them.

  “So you heard what you thought was your father dying?” Tesla asks bluntly, and I nod. “I see. Then I suppo
se we’ll have to do a little more digging to find out what happened to him after that. And what about when you came out of hiding? Did you see your father’s body before you left the house?”

  I hate the way she talks about death, like it means absolutely nothing to her. I wonder if all Digits are this way. Since they themselves don’t die, maybe they don’t feel the same way about it that those of us facing it every day have to. They have no empathy. There’s no way they have emotions.

  “No. I took Fray out the back door. I didn’t want him to see… more than he needed to.”

  “And the people who killed your mother? Did you see them?”

  “They weren’t people, they – ” I begin before I can stop myself. I bite my tongue and backtrack quickly, hoping Tesla didn’t hear what I was about to say. “They were wearing masks, black ones with slits in the eyes. I couldn’t see anything. Even their hair was tucked in.”

  Tesla blinks slowly and narrows her eyes. “So you don’t know who they were? Or why they came? Your mother didn’t tell you anything?”

  There it is again. My mother. Sometimes I get the feeling that there’s a part of her that everyone else knows about but me. And even though she was trying to protect me, I also feel like it’s that part that’s going to get me into trouble soon. Or maybe it has already.

  “N-no. Why? Did my mother have something she needed to tell me? Do you know something I don’t?”

  I’m pushing too much, too far, and I know I shouldn’t. But I’m so close, I can feel it.

  Tesla leans forward, digging her fingernails into the arms of her chair and pressing her knees against mine. “Now,” she says, her tone mildly threatening, “would I have called you here, let Cyrus boss me around and put up with your attitude – which has tested my willpower to its limits since you arrived – if I knew how your mother got herself killed?”

  My blood is boiling, and I have to clasp my hands together in my lap to keep them still. I debate just standing up and walking out, but with the mood Tesla is in right now, I don’t want to risk the consequences.