Cinder (The Lunar Chronicles #1) - Marissa Meyer Page 0,15
ignored it as Peony grasped at her T-shirt, sobs renewed.
“I’m so sorry.”
“What will you tell Mom and Pearl?”
Cinder bit her lips. “I don’t know.” Then, “The truth, I guess.”
Bile rose in her mouth. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe stomach sickness was a symptom. She looked down at her forearm, embracing Peony to her. Still no spots.
Peony shoved her away, scooting back in the dirt. “Stay away. You might not be sick yet. But they would take you. You have to get out of here.”
Cinder hesitated. She heard the crunch of treads over scattered aluminum and plastic. She didn’t want to leave Peony, but what if she really hadn’t caught it yet?
She sat back on her heels, then clambered to her feet.
Yellow lights were nearing them from the shadows.
Cinder’s right hand was sweating in its glove. Her breathing had shallowed again.
“Peony…”
“Go! Go away!”
Cinder stepped back. Back. Had the bleary sense to stop and pick up the folded magbelt. She moved toward the exit, her human leg as numb as the prosthesis. Peony’s sobs chased after her.
Three white androids met her around a corner. They had yellow sensors and red crosses painted on their heads and two were pushing a hovering gurney between them.
“Are you the letumosis victim?” one asked in a neutral voice, holding up an ID scanner.
Cinder hid her wrist. “No. My sister, Linh Peony. She-she’s that way, to the left.”
The med-droids with the gurney wheeled away from her, down the path.
“Have you had direct contact with the victim in the past twelve hours?” the remaining android asked.
Cinder opened her mouth, hesitated. Guilt and fear curdled in her gut.
She could lie. There was no proof she had it yet, but if they took her to the quarantines, she didn’t stand a chance.
But if she went home, she could infect everyone. Adri. Pearl. Those screeching, laughing children rushing through the hallways.
She could barely hear her own voice. “Yes.”
“Are you showing symptoms?”
“N-no. I don’t know. I feel lightheaded, but not—” She stopped herself.
The med-droid neared her, its treads grating on the dirty ground. Cinder stumbled away from it, but it said nothing, only inched closer until Cinder’s calves were pressed against a rotting storage crate. It held up the ID scanner in one pronged hand, and then a third arm appeared from within its torso—a syringe in place of grippers.
Cinder shuddered but didn’t resist as it grabbed her right wrist and inserted the needle. She flinched, watching as dark liquid, almost black in the android’s yellow light, was pulled up into the syringe. She was not afraid of needles, but the world began to tilt. The android removed it just in time for her to slump down onto the crate.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Initiating blood scan for letumosis-carrying pathogens.” Cinder heard a motor start up inside the android, faint beeps announcing each step. The android’s light dimmed as its power source was diverted.
She held her breath until her control panel kicked in and forced her lungs to contract.
“ID,” said the android, holding the scanner out to her. A red light passed over her wrist and the scanner beeped. The android stashed it away in its hollow torso.
She wondered how long it would take for it to finish the scan and determine that she was a carrier, confirming that she was at fault. For everything.
The sound of treads approached along the path. Cinder turned her head as the two androids appeared with Peony atop their gurney. She was sitting up with her hands wrapped around her knees. Swollen eyes wildly darted around the junkyard as if searching for an escape. As if she’d stumbled into a nightmare.
But she didn’t try to run. No one ever put up a fight when being taken to the quarantines.
Their eyes met. Cinder opened her mouth but nothing came out. She tried to plead forgiveness with her eyes.
The faintest of smiles touched Peony’s lips. She raised a hand and waved with only her fingers.
Cinder returned it, knowing it should be her.
She had already outlived fate once. She should be the one being carted away. She should be the one dying. It should be her.
It was about to be her.
She tried to speak, to tell Peony she would be right behind her. She wouldn’t be alone. But then the android beeped. “Scan complete. No letumosis-carrying pathogens detected. Subject is urged to stand fifty feet back from infected patient.”
Cinder blinked. Relief and dread both squirmed inside her.