Chapter 3

When I finished the training simulation, Ivy looked at me differently.

"You're a quick study," she said.

I stared at the screen showing "Network Authentication: Approved," my hands still shaking.

Not from fear. From how sick this made me feel.

I was pretending to be everything I hated—just another cog in the Network.

"Get used to it, so you can destroy it," Ivy said, reading my face. She handed me a water bottle. "Don't let the anger eat you up too fast. People who let rage drive them usually end up dead."

I took a sip of water—tasted like blood.

I was about to say something when alarm lights started flashing overhead.

The sharp, rhythmic beeping drilled into my skull with red lights.

Ivy jumped up instantly. "Something's wrong."

The door slammed open. The guard from earlier rushed in, breathing hard. "The Dominion Network found us! They broke through our jamming—they've got a lock on 10734."

Every eye in the room turned to me.

My blood turned to ice water.

"That's impossible," I said, backing up. "I'm offline. You gave me this SIM card—"

Ivy's eyes dropped to my wrist.

I looked down and saw my electronic bracelet—the "ID binding reminder" the Dominion Network strapped on every eighteen-year-old—still blinking red.

I went blank. "I-I didn't take it off!"

"Are you an idiot?" Ivy snapped. "That thing's a fucking tracker! You led them right to us."

My brain went fuzzy.

"Dominion forces will be here in 30 seconds!"

"Everyone out, now!"

"We can't—they locked down the east tunnel!"

The whole place erupted into chaos.

Someone grabbed my arm while others screamed at me to get lost and draw them away.

I just stood there, hands shaking and drenched in sweat.

"Listen up!" Ivy seized my shoulders. "You wanted to reject their identity? Well, now you get to reject everything—including staying alive."

She grabbed my wrist and smashed the tracker against the wall. Glass shattered everywhere. Blood ran down my arm in bright red streams.

Then, the ceiling exploded above us.

Dust rained down as Dominion Network drones punched through the ceiling, red laser dots dancing across every surface.

"Run!" Ivy screamed.

She shoved me hard, and I went flying into an air vent.

"Remember!" she shouted as I crawled away. "Stay alive long enough, and they'll start fearing you!"

Then, the explosion hit. My ears went dead except for this awful ringing.

The world turned white, then gray, then nothing.

*****

I didn't remember how I got out of there.

My ears wouldn't stop ringing. Blood kept dripping from my scalp down to my chin. All I could hear were sirens and my own heavy breathing.

I slid down against some metal wall in a maintenance tunnel, hiding in the guts of the city like a beaten dog.

The tracker on my wrist was blown to bits, but the Dominion Network wasn't done with me yet.

Before I got out of there, I caught one last glimpse of Ivy turning back toward me with a smile.

Not a warm smile—more like, "Just stay alive, okay?"

She probably didn't make it out.

But here I was, still breathing, carrying all their anger and hope with me.

*****

The edge of the city was called the Gray Zone.

That was where the Dominion Network shoved everyone they considered worthless.

Garbage dumps, cardboard cities, black market repair shops, unbound people, criminals, kids nobody wanted... They were all alive, but officially, they might as well be ghosts.

I found a torn-up mattress under some old highway and crawled onto it, shaking.

I hadn't eaten in three days, and my stomach was cramping so bad I could barely think straight.

On the fourth morning, somebody pressed a gun to the back of my head.

"Number."

"I don't have one," I said without hesitation.

He stared at me for a long moment, his eyes narrowing like he was deciding whether I was worth anything as slave labor. Then, his voice softened.

"You a Refuser?" he asked.

I stayed quiet.

"Damn kid, you trying to get yourself killed?" He let out a cold snort and lowered his gun.

"Come on. The Gray Zone doesn't keep dead men walking around."

*****

His name was Samuel Grant. He ran a repair shop in the Gray Zone, fixing broken robots and dealing black market chips to get by.

He said I was lucky I ran into him instead of the headhunters—those psychos who track down Unnumbered like me, crack open their skulls, and hope there was something valuable inside worth selling.

"You know there's something in your head?" Samuel asked, and his whole tone changed.

I looked up. "What's in my head?"

He took a long drag of his cigarette, studying me. When he finally spoke, his voice was slow and careful.

"The Dominion Network doesn't put kill orders on people for fun. There's something in your brain that scares them."

My stomach dropped.

That night, when I refused to pick an identity, the screen did flash for a split second. But nobody told me what it meant.

"Did you ever back up your identity data?" Samuel asked.

"No."

"That's what I thought." Samuel blew out the last of his smoke. "You're not being hunted by the Dominion Network. You're a glitch they're trying to fix."=

I didn't say anything.

Something in my head was starting to stir.

He stared at me hard. "Kid, if you want to make it out alive, you need to learn one thing."

"What's that?"

"Become the kind of person they're scared of."