Chapter 25

The girl waited a full hour after the door clicked shut. Just in case.

She wasn't afraid. Surely not.

The razor was in the bathroom drawer, the tiny piece easily removed from its machine. The edge glinted evilly in the light- dangerously sharp.

The girl ran water over it, as hot as she could make it. Steam fogged the mirror, hiding her pale face.

I can do this, she thought. She was half-tempted to test the blade, just to see how much it would hurt- but that would be silly. Knowing how much pain she'd face would not make it any less.

She brought the warm metal against the soft inside of her left wrist. She could see where the blood pumped, just below the surface, a tiny pulse she could only feel if she concentrated.

Renee held the razor a centimeter to the left of the beat, and drew a deep breath.

She knew haste could be her death, but she doubted she'd be able to manage a cautious pace. Once the blood started flowing, and the pain grew, she might ... make a mistake.

Another breath.

The blade parted her skin like Moses and the red sea. The gash instantly overflowed with blood, leaving bright red streaks down her wrist. The liquid escaped in time with her heart, sharp throbs of pain bringing tears to her eyes.

She dared not inhale. It would give her the air to scream.

Okay, she thought. Okay. You can do it, come on. Renee placed the razor between her teeth, the copper scent of blood filling the air. She closed her eyes, said a prayer to a god she did not believe in, and placed her delicate fingers above the cut.

Come on.

The cut was deep. She had no trouble wiggling her pointer into it, past unknown anatomy- the slippery wetness of blood, the thin strings that- from the head splitting agony when she nudged them- she assumed were nerves, and solid bones.

Not there. She probed the other side of the wrist, trying to ignore the panicked voice in her head telling her how wrong it all was. She forced her body's rejection of the search, a constant stream of babbling and pain, to the back of her mind.

Keep going.

She reached deeper, closer to the hand. Every digit twitch was like a strum against the fingers inside. The light in the tiny room seemed to be growing brighter, even though she knew it was just the pain.

Is that-? Something hard, harder even than bone, and smooth.

Her knees suddenly weakened, the blood loss starting to show.

The sink saved her, and gave her enough time to lower herself to the floor, a bloody hand-print in her wake. She groaned aloud. The gash looked even less inviting, and she was close.

She'd felt it.

The entire appendage was an agony, now. The tips of the fingers were growing cold, and blood flow was slowing.

She bit her lip and reached in.

Finding it again wasn't hard, even though her vision was growing fuzzy. It was the size of a pea, and a perfect sphere.

It slipped from her fingers twice before she held it firmly. A harsh yank tore it from her flesh, bringing a fresh spurt of blood.

Shit. The room was already looking like a murder scene. The little device that had been part of her hardly seemed worth it.

It dropped into the toilet with a plink.

One down.

The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth as she took the razor from between her teeth. Her left hand shook as she tried to grip the blade, red seeping from the wreckage of her wrist.

Her second cut hurt less than the first, if only because she knew it didn't need to be as long. Renee let the blade fall to the ground and forced her fingers inside. She closed her eyes- the darkness around the edges was distracting- and hunted.

The other transceiver was in the same place as the first had been. She would have had it out within minutes, but every attempt to seize it resulted in her injured hand failing her.

The pain had begun to recede by the time she held it in her hand. Not a good sign, she thought. The lump of bloody metal was doubling in her sight.

Renee all but threw it into the water.

She stood and the room spun.

The two devices sat at the bottom of the porcelain. The bloody trails left in their wake were too dark against the white, or maybe the ceramic was too light. Her sight hadn't stopped shaking.

Waiting didn't seem to help matters.

She found the button and the water swirled down the drain, taking the two gadgets with it.

"Done," she said aloud.

The synthetic backed into the wall, then let herself slide to the ground. A puddle of blood sat before her ... and her wrists were still open.

"This ... is not good," she announced to no one.

Her shirt came off with a bit of struggle, one of the white camisoles Sawyer had bought her. Her left hand was all but useless. She wrapped the worst cut with the garment using her teeth and the less damaged appendage.

Blood soaked through immediately.

Shit.

She hadn't planned on killing herself.

The girl staggered to her feet.

Sawyer, she thought. I need to call Sawyer. She couldn't say how. She doubted she'd be able to connect to the net without the transceivers.

One step and her legs gave out from under her. The floor rushed up to meet her with a vengeance.

The door was too far.

Renee gritted her teeth and managed to crawl three feet before she slipped.

She did not get up again.

"I'm back." Sawyer tossed his bag and jacket to the floor. "Renee? Are you here?"

"Where else would she be?" asked Zack, leaping deftly onto the couch. "Not like she's allowed to leave."

His friend frowned and strode to the bathroom door. "Renee? You in there?" He knocked once.

"Sauce, if you really want to know, command her," said Zack. He left the cushions and sauntered to his friend. "Asking shit is a waste of time.

"Renee, come on out," he said, expectantly.

Nothing.

Zack's brow furrowed. "Renee? Open the door." He glanced sidelong at his friend. "Did you say she could leave?"

Sawyer shook his head.

He rattled the latched handle and thudded the barrier. "Unlock it, Sauce."

The boy glanced at the entry, hesitating. "If she wants to be alone-"

"She shouldn't be a synthetic," Zack finished. He rolled his eyes at Sawyer's glare. "Fine. Unlock the thing, so we at least know she's here. She can hide after, if she wants."

He twisted the knob the second the lock clicked, and shoved the door wide.

Zack and Sawyer stared at the scene so long, the door began to fall shut again.

Blood coated the floor like a carpet, the white tile invisible. Smears of red on the walls and toilet. The girl lay unmoving in the center of the pool, one side of her face visible, nearly as white as snow.

Sawyer was at her side first, kneeling in the crimson fluid without regard. "Oh nonono- Renee? Renee?" He shook her shoulder. "Say something, please. Talk to me, c'mon." He reached one shaking hand to her cheek, then turned his wide eyes to Zack. "She's- she's cold."

The words brought the other back to the present, launching him into action. He shoved his friend aside and pressed his fingers under her jaw.

"This is bad," Sawyer muttered. "Why would she-? Just- this is so bad. What do we do? Dude?"

"Shut up, Sauce," he replied. He bit his lip and closed his eyes, trying to feel past the girl's chilly skin. He hadn't thought he'd ever be in this position, again.

There.

"She's not dead," he said, tilting back on his heels.

"What?"

"She's alive." Zack wiped a hand on his jeans. "Give me some kind of cord, I'm going to tourniquet her arms."

Sawyer clawed at his shoes, untying the string in a panic. "The blood-"

"She has a pulse, so she's still here." He took the strand and began tightening it around a limb. "Raise the cuts above her heart, it'll keep her from losing more." He finished the knot and began on the other. "Keep pressure on the wounds."

Sawyer followed the instructions blindly, mind unwilling to land on any thought long enough to examine it.

"What next?" His eyes widened. "The hospital. Shit, I'll call the ambulance-"

Zack froze, then grabbed his friend's jaw, knocking the connection from the boy's vision.

"No."

"Wha-"

"Don't call 911. She's a synthetic, remember? She's not legally ours, they'll take her away."

"But look at her! She'll die if we don't get help."

"I know," said Zack. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Let me think for a second."

Sawyer chewed his lips, the anxiety turning his stomach in circles.

"Your eye doctor," he said at last. "What's-her-name."

"Colton?"

"Yeah. You said she was part of CISH?"

"I-I don't know," said Sawyer, shoving aside his bangs, leaving a bloody streak on his forehead. "I think so-"

"We'll take her there. I'll call a transport. Get Renee in a sheet or something."

The engine sent vibrations throughout the entire vehicle, forcing Sawyer to keep a tight grip on the girl in his lap. He cradled her head like a baby's, preventing it from lolling to the side.

Zack had been silent since they'd left his house, beyond reminding his friend to keep her arms raised.

"What will we say?" said Sawyer. He couldn't bear to listen to Renee's rasping breathes anymore.

"Let me do the talking." Zack frowned. "But- send a message. Tell her you have an emergency, and that you'll be there soon."

"Should I tell her why?"

"No."

Sawyer connected, the familiar interface overlaying half of his vision. Dr. Colton was in his contact list- for emergencies- although he'd never had to call her before.