The Collective

Chapter Thirty

Ethan

     The first time someone from the Collective said we were going on a field trip, we ended up in a hospital in Eritrea. It was this dark, sketchy little place, with this surgeon who smoked at least a pack a day. He was being tossed out of a bar when we met him and the excitement just kept coming. He implanted an untraceable tracking chip in my thigh. Apparently, the thinking was there was lots of fat and not a lot of bone and it wouldn't hurt as much as it would somewhere else. It did. A lot. I was thrilled when the Collective switched to a nanite spray a couple years back.

     The term field trip never quite lived up to that first time. Although, this was running a close second.

     The cemetery stood before us, row after row of headstones stretched on, pressing towards the edges. We were in Alex's hometown. Alex brought me here once for a job. She had to interview the groundskeeper about trends in funeral arrangements. The guy was nice and all, but Alex made me promise never to leave her there.

     A black hearse rolled in, followed by her dad's sedan.

     It felt like my insides had turned them themselves inside out, and trying to crawl up my throat...

     Alex was dead. Alex was stuck in a cemetery, because of me. This was the one place she made me promise to never leave her in, and I was the one who put her there.

     I dragged my attention away from the hearse. "Please don't make me do this."

     Regan shook her head. "I didn't do this. Actions have consequences. That's why we have rules." She held out a single, red Calla Lily. "Go pay your respects."

     I sat, frozen. My brain snagged on the thought that I'd abandoned her. I'd left her behind. This was all on me. My feet moved without my permission. They carried me towards the gathering crowd, legs shaking.

     The hearse stopped. They pulled a casket out.

     I stopped breathing. My legs gave out.

     Two hands wrapped around my shoulders, preventing me from hitting the ground.

     "Let's go, lover boy. You're not gonna want to miss this. Trust me."

     I let Regan drag me to the open grave. They laid her casket on top of several thick straps, waiting to carry her down. We stopped just out of sight.

     Sandra fell apart. Charles stood next to her, arms wrapped around her, staring stoically ahead. Alex's college roommate, her favorite one, stood next to them. She clutched a red Gladiolus to her chest. Stacy Gardner, of all people, stood in the front, dabbing delicately at teary eyes. Her old coworkers clutched notebooks and pencils to their chests. Sam's girl looked ready to drop.

     My ears rang, drowning out what little I'd been able to hear.

     The minister said a few things to her parents before drifting away. The roommate laid the flower on the casket. She held her fist out, waiting for a fist bump. She dropped her arm, shuffling towards the parking lot. Stacy dropped a handful of Daises onto the casket. She whispered something under her breath, smiling as tears drifted out. Sandra kissed her fingertips. She brushed them across the casket as Charles pulled her away.

     Alex disappeared into the ground. I jerked out of Regan's grasp. I ignored the casket, ignored the shiny, new headstone. She would hate this, so much. I reached out, barely reaching her dad's back. He whipped towards me. I plowed ahead before I could stop.

     "I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I never meant for Alex—"

     Her mother slapped me. She stood over me. "Don't you dare say her name. This is your fault." She beat on my chest, growling, "I wish she'd never met you."