THE RABBIT PEN

They marched her to the rabbit pen, where about fortyhandcuffed Smokies sat inside the wire fence. A dozen or soSpecials stood in a cordon around them, watching theircaptives with empty expressions. By the entrance to thecompound a few rabbits hopped aimlessly, too addled bytheir sudden freedom to make a break for it.
The Special who had captured Tally took her to the endfarthest from the gate, where a handful of Smokies withbloody noses and black eyes were clustered.
“Armed resistor,” he said to the two cruel pretties whoguarded this end of the pen, and shoved her down to theground among the others.
She stumbled and fell onto her back, where her weightstretched the cuffs painfully across her wrists. When shestruggled to turn over, a foot planted itself into her backand pushed her up. For a moment, she thought the shoebelonged to a Special, but it was one of the other Smokies,helping her up the only way he could. She managed to situp cross-legged.
The wounded Smokies around her smiled grimly, noddingencouragement.
“Tally,” someone hissed.
She struggled to turn toward the voice. It was Croy, a cutover his eye bleeding down onto his cheek, one side of hisface covered with dirt. He scooted himself a bit closer. “Youresisted?” he said. “Huh. Guess I was wrong about you.”
Tally could only cough. Traces of the burning pepperseemed stuck in her lungs, like the embers of a fire thatwouldn’t go out. Tears still streamed from her eyes.
“I noticed you slept through breakfast call this morning,”
he said. “Then when the Specials came, I figured you’dpicked an awfully convenient time to disappear.”
She shook her head, forced words through the cindersin her throat. “I was out late with David. That’s all.”
Speaking made her sore jaw ache.
Croy frowned. “I haven’t seen him all morning.”
“Really?” She blinked away tears. “Maybe he got away.”
“I doubt anyone did.” Croy jutted his chin toward thegate of the pen. A large group of Smokies was on its way,guarded by a squad of Specials. Among them, Tally recognizedfaces from those who’d made a stand at the mess hall.
“They’re just mopping up now,” he said.
“Have you seen Shay?”
Croy shrugged. “She was at breakfast when theyattacked, but I lost track of her.”
“What about the Boss?”
298 Scott WesterfeldCroy looked around. “No.”
“I think he got away. He and I made a run together.”
A dark smile crossed Croy’s face. “That’s funny. Healways said he wouldn’t mind getting captured. Somethingabout a face-lift.”
Tally managed to smile. But then she thought about thebrain lesions that went along with becoming pretty, and ashiver passed through her body. She wondered how manyof these captives knew what was really going to happento them.
“Yeah, the Boss was going to give himself up, to help meget away, but I couldn’t have made it through the forest.”
“Why not?”
She wriggled her toes. “No shoes.”
Croy raised an eyebrow. “You picked the wrong day tosleep late.”
“I guess so.”
Outside the overcrowded rabbit pen, the new arrivalswere being organized into groups. A pair of Specials movedthrough the pen, flashing a reader into the bound Smokies’
eyes, taking them outside one by one.
“They must be separating everyone by city,” Croy said.
“Why?”
“To take us home,” he said coldly.
“Home,” she repeated. Just last night, that word hadchanged its meaning in her mind. And now home wasdestroyed. It lay around her in ruins, burning and captured.
UGLIES 299She scanned the captives, looking for Shay and David.
The familiar faces in the crowd were haggard, dirty, crumpledby shock and defeat, but Tally realized that she no longerthought of them as ugly. It was the cold expressions of theSpecials, beautiful though they were, that seemed horrific toher now.
A disturbance caught her eye. Three of the invaderswere carrying a struggling figure, bound hand and foot,through the pen. They marched straight to the resistors’
corner and dumped her onto the ground.
It was Shay.
“Watch this one.”
The two Specials guarding them glanced at the stillwrithing figure. “Armed resistor?” one asked.
There was a pause. Tally saw that one of the Specialshad a bruise marring his pretty face.
“Unarmed. But dangerous.”
The three left their captive behind, their cruel gracemarked with a touch of hurry.
“Shay!” Croy hissed.
Shay rolled herself over. Her face was red, her lips puffyand bleeding. She spat, saliva trailing from her mouth to abloodred glob on the dusty ground.
“Croy,” she managed with a thick tongue.
Then her eyes fell on Tally.
“You!”
“Uh, Shay . . . ,” Croy began.
300 Scott Westerfeld“You did this!” Her whole body writhed like a snake inits death throes. “Stealing my boyfriend wasn’t enough? Youhad to betray the whole Smoke!”
Tally closed her eyes and shook her head. It couldn’t betrue. She had destroyed the pendant. The fire had consumedit.
“Shay!” Croy said. “Calm down. Look at her. She foughtthem.”
“Are you blind, Croy? Look around you! She did this!”
Tally took a deep breath and forced herself to look atShay. Her friend’s eyes burned with hatred.
“Shay, I swear to you, I didn’t. I never . . .” Her voicefaltered.
“Who else could have led them here?”
“I don’t know.”
“We can’t blame each other, Shay,” Croy said. “It could’vebeen anything. A satellite image. A scouting mission.”
“A spy.”
“Will you look at her, Shay?” Croy cried. “She’s tied up,like us. She resisted!”
Shay slammed her eyes shut and shook her head.
The two Specials with the eye-reader had reached theresistors’ corner of the pen. One stood back while the otherstepped forward warily. “We don’t want to hurt you,” sheannounced. “But we will if we have to.”
The cruel pretty grabbed Croy’s chin and flashed thereader in his eye. She looked at its readout.
UGLIES 301“Another one of ours,” she said.
The other Special raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t know wehad so many runaways.”
The two hauled Croy to his feet and marched himtoward the largest group of Smokies outside. Tally bit herlip. Croy was one of Shay’s old friends, so these twoSpecials were from her own city. Maybe all the invaderswere.
It had to be a coincidence. This couldn’t be her fault.
She’d seen the pendant burn!
“So you’ve got Croy on your side too now, I see,” Shayhissed.
Tears began to fill Tally’s eyes, but not from the pepperthis time. “Look at me, Shay!”
“He suspected you from the beginning. But I told himevery time, ‘No, Tally’s my friend. She’d never do anythingto hurt me.’”
“Shay, I’m not lying.”
“How did you change Croy’s mind, Tally? The sameway you changed David’s?”
“Shay, I never meant for that to happen.”
“So where were you two last night?”
Tally swallowed, trying to hold her voice steady. “Justtalking. I told him about my necklace.”
“That took all night? Or did you just decide to makeyour move before the Specials came? One last game withhim. With me.”
302 Scott WesterfeldTally lowered her head. “Shay . . .”
A hand grabbed her chin and forced it up. She blinked,and a dazzling red light flashed.
The Special looked at the device closely. “Hey, it’s her.”
Tally shook her head. “No.”
The other Special looked at the readout, nodding confirmation.
“Tally Youngblood?”
She didn’t answer. They lifted her to her feet and dustedher off.
“Come with us. Dr. Cable wants to see you immediately.”
“I knew it,” Shay hissed.
“No!”
They pulled Tally toward the gate of the pen. Shetwisted her head around to look back, trying to think ofwords that would explain.
Shay glared up at her from the ground, bloody teethgritted, her eyes falling to Tally’s bound wrists. A secondlater, Tally felt the pressure release, and her hands poppedapart. The Specials had cut her handcuffs.
“No,” she said softly.
One of the Specials squeezed her shoulder. “Don’tworry, Tally, we’ll have you home in no time.”
The other chimed in. “We’ve been looking for thisbunch for years.”
“Yeah, good work.”