Glitch

of the boy who’d tried to run, the boy
    who haunted my dreams—
    I remembered the crunching
    noise of the bones in his nose breaking as they slammed him
    down. I took one glance back down at the dark stairway
    that was dimly lit now by the doorway.
    These were my options. I could go back to the Commu-
    nity, face deactivation and the certainty of never glitching
    again. Or I could venture out onto the Surface, either dying
    quickly in the toxic air or, just maybe, having a chance at
    escape.
    56

    G L I TC H
    Behind Adrien’s frame, I caught a glimpse of the Surface.
    It was so bright, all I could see at the fi rst was the light, but
    then in the distance my eye caught on the edge of something
    man- made—a building that looked tall and strong and not at
    all destroyed.
    Before I could change my mind, I grabbed Adrien’s hand
    and said, “Let’s go.”
    57

Chapter 5
    adrie n swung his g ray pack around and rummaged
    through the bag.
    “What are you doing? I thought we were going.” I was
    going to lose my nerve if we didn’t get out of here now.
    “One last thing. I’ll do it to myself fi rst so you can see
    what I’m doing.” He was all business again, looking sure of
    himself and the situation. He took out a small metal device,
    about the size of a stylus, but diff erent from the one with the
    needles.
    Something thudded from the darkness of the stairs below.
    We stood there, eyes locked, breathing evenly for several
    moments. The door to the surface was still open a crack. If
    someone was coming, they’d see the light and know there
    was something anomalous. I was glad my heart monitor was
    disabled, and from the look on Adrien’s face, it was clear his
    monitor must have been deactivated somehow, too.
    I let out a gasp of surprise. Adrien slammed a hand over
    my mouth, his eyes wide with fear as he looked around us.
    “Shhh.” He looked at me, hard, an extra moment before
    dropping his hand. He stayed close to me, and I could feel
    his chest as he slowed his breath.
    58

    G L I TC H
    A few moments passed, and he seemed to accept that the
    sound was not a person approaching. He took the device in
    his hand and jammed the tip into his forearm right above
    the subcutaneous panel.
    “What are you doing?” A small trickle of blood seeped
    from where the device had bitten into his skin. He clicked a
    release switch and a tiny metal chip tinked as it hit the ground.
    “Disabling the godlam’d tracker,” he whispered back.
    “Now we need to do yours. Give me your arm.”
    I glanced at the doorway. Well, if I was going to trust him
    enough to chance going out into the open air, I might as well
    trust him with this, too. I held out my arm and squeezed my
    eyes shut. I bit down hard on my lips to keep from crying out
    but after a short second of pain, it was gone.
    “All done. You okay?” He kept a hand on my arm.
    “I’m fi ne,” I said, trying to keep the panic in my voice
    down to a minimum. Before I could say anything else, much
    less reconsider, he pulled my arm and we went out the door
    into the open air.
    The light was shockingly, painfully bright. For the fi rst
    few steps, I closed my eyes entirely and stumbled along after
    Adrien.
    “Here, put these on.” He handed me a pair of glasses, like
    the ones we wore in chem lab, except these were tinted dark.
    I took them gratefully and put them on. When I opened my
    eyes again, I could see without pain. Adrien was already pull-
    ing me forward. It was only after a few more moments of
    trying to orient myself to the light that I was fi nally able to
    look around.
    59

    Heather Anastasiu
    It was so open. There was so much space.
    Huge, horrible open space or interrupted only by giant
    steel buildings jutting upward.
    Concrete buildings and open air were all I could see. The
    air was warm and moist. It felt thick when I breathed it in.
    It smelled wrong, though I didn’t have the right words to
    describe it. It was too much to take in at once. We passed a
    huge plaza in the middle of a complex of buildings and I
    couldn’t stop staring. It was empty of people, but it was not
    the destroyed and deadly ruins I’d seen in my history texts.
    I’d lived my entire life going from room to room, tunnel
    to tunnel. Sure there were bigger spaces, like the subway
    platform rooms or the cafeteria, but it was nothing com-
    pared to this. I could always reach out a hand to fi nd a wall,
    ceiling, or another subject. Here I reached out and I