Enders by Lissa Price Page B

them.”
    “Why not you?” I asked.
    “You’ll do it so much better. They like you more than me.” He forced a smile with Jeremy’s lips.
    “That’s because I listen to them,” I said.
    My phone rang. I looked at it and saw it was Michael. Michael?
    The rule was not to call each other so that the calls couldn’t be traced.
    “Don’t answer,” Hyden said.
    “It’s got to be important.” I pressed the talk button. “Michael?” I said into the phone. “Where are you?”
    “I’m in Flintridge,” Michael said. “Outside the old library.”
    “Where’s Tyler?”
    “With Eugenia, at the cabin. He’s okay.”
    Hyden came closer to follow the conversation.
    “Why did you leave the mountain?” I said. “It was safe. No one could scan your chip.”
    At that Hyden shook his head. “Why’d he leave?” he muttered.
    “I remembered something,” Michael said. “Something that didn’t happen to me, but to my renter. I needed to get away from the house so my call wouldn’t be traced to it.”
    “What did you remember?” I asked.
    Hyden took the phone from me. “Don’t say any more,” he said to Michael. “We’ll come get you.”
    He pressed the off button and grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair. “Let’s bring him in.”

    When we got to what used to be the Flintridge library, we parked across the street. Sometime during the Spore Wars, the library had been closed and barricaded. A chain-link fence surrounded it.
    “I’ll go alone,” I said. “You stay.”
    “Callie.” Hyden put his hand on his door handle.
    “He knows me. He’s never even met you. And you aren’t even you right now,” I said, looking at Jeremy’s face. “I’ll just go get him and we’ll be right back.”
    I got out and climbed under a hole in the fence. A sea of encampments covered the parking lot. Tents filled with unclaimed Starters, some with down-and-out Enders who’d run out of their money decades ago.
    Living longer isn’t always the greatest thing.
    Some of the Starters stared at me. I didn’t look like themanymore. My clothes weren’t in tatters, and my face and hands were clean. I had no water bottle over my shoulder, no handlite. And I was no longer emaciated like them.
    I tried not to look scared, tried not to draw any more attention to myself as I scanned the crowd.
    Michael, where are you? Why aren’t you out front?
    I made one whole sweep of the parking lot and came back again. Someone touched my arm, asking for money. I started to open my purse and a swarm of people surrounded me. I felt clammy. This was not a smart decision.
    I was having trouble breathing. People grabbed at my arms, pulling me in different directions.
    “Please, stop,” I said.
    I threw down some bills. They scattered off in the wind and the crowd chased after, leaving me free to get away.
    As I made my way toward the car, I heard a familiar voice in my head.
    Cal Girl? Can you hear me? It’s Dad
.
    I gasped. Don’t get excited, this could be the Old Man. “Yes, I hear you.” I stopped walking and concentrated.
    I’m alive. Don’t worry
.
    It sounded just like him. But it had before too.
    Callie?
    “How do I know it’s really you?” My heart was pounding. “How can I tell?”
    Remember what I gave you for your tenth birthday? A red bicycle?
    I gasped. The bicycle with the big ribbon. “Where did you hide it?”
    In the laundry room. Behind the door
.
    My heart leapt. It was him. “Where are you? I want to see you.”
    I know. I want to see you too. How’s Tyler?
    Tears formed in my eyes. “He’s fine. He misses you so much. He used to look at your holo every night, but then we lost it.… ”
    It’s okay, Cal Girl
.
    “Dad? How are you doing this? Reaching me this way?”
    Suddenly it was very quiet. I sensed the vacuum, the lack of any sound, emptiness. That awful disconnect that happened sometimes. He was gone. I was hollow inside, worse than when I was hungry and starving on the streets.
    I became