Crossed (Matched, #2)

by Ally Condie

What the Society needs—what we are for them—are bodies. Decoy villagers. They move us. Put us wherever they need more people to draw fire from the Enemy. They want the Enemy to think the Outer Provinces are still inhabited and viable,

No one goes home. Except me. I came home. The Outer Provinces are where I once belonged.

“We’re going up to get the snow, Ky!” someone hollered at me a few moments later. “Come on.” “You won’t make it,” I told them. “It will melt too fast.”

“No,” he said. “Ky says it’ll melt before we get there. And we’ve got graves to dig.” “You’re always making us dig,” one of the decoys complained. “We’re supposed to act like farmers. That’s what the Society says.”

They leave the carcasses for the Society or the Enemy or any animals who might want them. But Vick and I bury people. It started with the boy and the river and no one’s stopped us yet.

sometimes the other decoys forget that he doesn’t actually have any power within the Society.

“I don’t make you do anything. Neither does Ky. You know who does, and if you want to take your chances up there, I won’t stop you.”

Vick and the others worked next to me. We had seven holes to dig. Not too many, considering the intensity of the firing and the fact that there were almost a hundred of us to lose.

back to the climbers so I didn’t have to see how the snow was all gone by the time they reached the top of the plateau. Climbing up there was a waste of time.

So I turned away. And then Aida came through the door, and she looked enough like my mother that I could breathe again.

“Our parents only had one artifact, and two daughters. Your mother and I agreed that we would take turns sharing it,

“We had the same artifact. And now we both have the same son. It’s for you.” “I can’t have it,” I told her. “I’m an Aberration. We’re not allowed to keep things like th...

gave it to Cassia to keep and she gave me the green silk. I knew they’d t...

when we walked down from the Hill the last time, I paused and...

Because in the end you can’t always choose what to keep. You can only choose how you let it go.

Vick digs next to me. Neither of us talk about the people we won’t be able to bury today. The ones who tried to climb to the snow.

Not one of the decoys who went up to the plateau will be coming back.

hoping the impossible, that at least they quenched their thirst before the fire. That they had mouths full of clean, cold snow when they died.

Xander, here, in front of me. Blond hair, blue eyes, smile so warm that I can’t stop from reaching out to him

“Cassia,” Xander says, and doesn’t wait, either. He pulls me into his arms and we both hold on tight.

missed you,” Xander tells me, his voice rumbling above my head. It sounds deeper. He seems stronger.

both my hands and pull him down and kiss him on the cheek, in a place dangerously near his mouth. When I step away we both have tears in our eyes.

“I’ve missed you,” I tell him, and I wonder how much of the ache inside me comes from having lost Xander, too.

Probably something like: Both subjects expressed appropriate reaction upon seeing each other.

“It’s been five months since our Matching,” he says. “All the Matchees from our month are having their first face-to-face meetings. The Department hasn’t eliminated that yet.”

“I pointed out that we don’t live near each other anymore, so we deserved a meeting, too. And it’s customary to meet where the girl lives.”

Xander reaches for my hand. “We’re allowed to go on an outing,” he says. “If you’d like.” “Of course,” I say, laughing; I can’t help

I have a blurry memory of coming into town on the long-distance train and walking down the street to the transport that brought us to the camp.

“Do they have a museum?” Something dances in Xander’s eyes; I can’t tell what. Amusement? Surprise?

Xander always makes every place, every person, better.

A kind Official. Of course they must exist. Grandfather was one.

with Xander it’s always a series of confident movements, little waves of motion. It’s what makes him so effective in the games—the quirking of his eyebrows, the smiling, the way his hands continually move the cards.

“I want to know more about the Glorious History of Tana Province.” A pause. A beat.

“Tana Province has beautiful geography and is also renowned for its farming,”

“Floods sometimes occurred in Tana pre-Society, but that has been controlled for many years now. We are one of the most productive farming Provinces in the Society.”

“That’s an interesting poem,” he says. “Not, I think, one of the Hundred.” “No,” I say. My hands tremble and I dare to hope again. “But still worth something.” “I’m afraid not,” he says. “Unless you have the original.” “No,” I say. “It was destroyed.” I destroyed it.

“I know they’re taking the Aberrations there,” I say softly. “But I want to know exactly where and how I can get there. A map.” He shakes his head at me. No.

My fingers brush the foil of the tablets and the hard surface of the compass at the same time and I stop. Which should I trade?

convince myself that I can give this up. He smiles and nods at me. “Yes,” he says. “That is worth something. But what you want would take days—weeks—to arrange.” “I only have tonight,”

“The music hall,” I say. “Check under your seat when you leave,” he whispers. “I will do the best I can.” Above us, the lights dim.

Xander leans over during the music. “Did you get what you needed?”

“I don’t know yet,” I tell him. The Archivist said to look under my seat when I left, not before, but I am still tempted to try earlier. “Thank you for helping me.” “It’s what I do,” Xander says.

I remember the gifts he gave me: the painting, the blue tablets neatly rowed in their compartments.

“But you don’t know everything about me,” Xander says. A mischievous grin crosses his face.

he still smiles there’s something serious about his expression now. “No,” I agree. “I don’t.”

Something’s there—a folded square of paper—and it comes away easily when I tug on it.

“You have ten minutes to say good-bye,”

Xander and I both take a deep breath at the same time and then we laugh together.

“What was he looking at for so long?” I ask Xander, nodding toward the Official. “A display on the history of Matching,” Xander says quietly.

“I still can’t believe they let you come,” I tell Xander. “I’m so glad they did.” “The timing was optimal,” Xander says. “I’m leaving Oria. I’m only passing through Tana on my way to Camas Province.”