Free Portrait of a Donor: A Starters Story by Lissa Price Page B

sight of several marshal carsparked out front. My heart beats faster. I fear the sight of a marshal’s car will
     have that effect on me for the rest of my life,. But the cars are all empty: everyone
     is inside the body bank.
    It’s late, the streets deserted. If any Starters were around, these marshal cars would
     make them disappear fast. All the shops are closed, but a few restaurants are still
     open.
    Lee told me to wait. His words echo in my head.
I know you
.
    A small café across the street still has its lights on.
    I jaywalk over there. Out of the corner of my eye I sense a man watching me. I turn
     to check. He’s a tall Ender, muscular, with a tattoo on the side of his neck. An animal?
     It’s the head of a leopard. Everything about him screams “predator”—the tattoo, his
     defiant stance, his long white hair like a mane.
    I hurry to the café. When I reach the door, it’s locked. I bang on the glass, but
     the lone Ender inside wears earphones as she wipes the counter.
    I hear footsteps behind me. I turn, prepared to fight. The leopard man stands about
     ten feet away. He pauses, staring at me, sizing up his prey. Someone shouts behind
     him.
    It’s Smoky Eyes. Raj.
    “Leave her alone!” Raj shouts. “Get out of here!”
    The Ender backs away, looks from Raj to me. His lips form a half smirk. He seems to
     be calculating whether he can take us both on. I plant my feet firmly and clench my
     fists.
    “We’re young, we’re fast, and there’s two of us,” I say.
    Raj slips his hands into his coat pockets. He points one of the pockets at the Ender,
     as if he has a gun.
    Tattoo Man raises his hands partway in surrender. “Don’t worry. I’m leaving.”
    He has a slight accent, but I can’t tell what it is.
    “Maybe next time,” Tattoo Man says.
    Not if I can help it. Raj and I watch him walk away.
    “You don’t have a gun,” I say to Raj under my breath.
    “No. Just a finger that wants to be.”
    I see sweat beading on his forehead. He jokes, but he was scared too. Across thestreet, light bounces off the tall, shiny doors of Prime Destinations as they open.
     I stare at the “PD” design on the doors and feel my heart beat. I thought that place
     would save me, but it was a nasty joke. They owned me. I’m walking away tonight, but
     am I really free?
    Lee comes out of the building and looks around until he sees us.

    Raj knew of a rooftop bar that wouldn’t card us. So I’m sitting here with him and
     Lee around a fire pit, sipping sparkling water. Déjà vu of that night at the club.
     Turns out Raj has cash. He didn’t do the body bank for the pay; he did it for the
     nose job.
    “My grandparents wouldn’t let me have the surgery,” Raj says. “They could easily afford
     it, but they’re just so old-fashioned.”
    “I’m sure mine wouldn’t either,” Lee says. “But they’re dead. Wouldn’t get the vaccine.”
    “Why not?” Raj asks.
    “Because they were scared,” I say.
    “Yours too?” Lee asks.
    I nod. My grandma was sure the shot would kill her. She didn’t trust the government.
     Who could blame her?
    I wonder if Raj has a home. I wonder where I’ll sleep tonight.
    “So you said you remembered me,” I say to Lee.
    He looks down. “I get these memories.”
    “We all do,” Raj says. “What do you remember?”
    “Scary things. Weird things. I don’t understand.” Lee puts his head in his hands for
     a moment. “I remember …” He lifts his head. “… this long, long fall in the sky. I
     see the ground below me coming closer and closer. Then, just as I’m going to hit it,
     I stop.”
    That sounds familiar, his body falling. I think I saw it.
    “Yeah. You did that,” Raj says. “And get this: you did it for fun.”
    “Really? No way,” Lee says.
    “You’re lucky that body still has two arms and legs,” Raj says, pointing at Lee. We
     piece together our memories, each of us offering bits of the puzzle until wemake a whole picture. We get