“I didn’t see anything!” she blurted out as the elevator jolted upward. “I don’t know what happened.”
“I do.” His eyes remained fixed on the silver doors, as lusterless and pale as his hair—a color too withered for his age. Though his face betrayed no signs of degeneration and she was certain he could be no older than twenty-five, he exuded an aura of sophistication and sagacity that made her feel like a child.
The elevator halted one floor up, but instead of exiting through the doors they’d entered, Zach rotated and punched a few numbers into the keypad, opening a hidden door on the opposite side. Maddy had seen Danny do this a few weeks ago when he’d brought her from her dorm to his office for the initiation ceremony, but she was baffled to know it worked in the upper levels as well.
“Am I in trouble?” she asked before he could step through the secret threshold.
Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, he ominously said, “You will be if you don’t follow me.”
Fearing the door would close behind him, she scurried after him into a room as grand as Danny’s, though with far more objects filling the space. The left side was the definition of pristine: sheets immaculately white, dressers dustless and shiny, and every personal accent organized and positioned at the perfect angle. The right side was exactly the opposite: black bedding unmade, dressers open with clothes flowing over the brim, and every item strewn in a disorderly fashion. Zach’s face morphed with disgust at the sight.
“Messy roommate?” Maddy guessed, earning a snort from him.
“That’s an understatement.”
When he didn’t elaborate, she gingerly strolled to the uncleanly side, studying the sparkly ebony hairbrush, harsh eyeliner, fishnet tights, and leather skirt in a heap on the floor. “Female roommate?” she asked without thinking, blushing at her own nosiness.
Zach, thankfully, was far less perturbed, his lips twitching slightly as he said, “Not like that.”
Nodding to hide her shame, Maddy hugged her torso and avoided his eyes. “So…um…are we waiting for Danny?”
“We came up here to hide from Danny.” Zach shifted in place but refused to leave the clean side of the room. “There were some…escapees a few minutes ago. My brother will be angry with Alyssa for letting them get by her.”
“Alyssa…the guard outside my room?”
He nodded grimly. “I didn’t want you to have to listen.”
Although she’d only interacted with the Wacko leader twice, she knew him well enough to understand the implication of that statement. “Will he be…angry with you for removing me from my room?”
“Danny’s focus is acute. He’ll be too busy worrying about this issue to care. It seems likely that, given the escapees know our location, we’ll have to relocate by tomorrow. The government could come for us.”
“Do you think they would risk it…with Danny’s Affinity? They must know his capabilities…”
“Perhaps.”
“You don’t seem nervous about it,” she stated, studying his pensive expression. “Do you have faith that Danny will save the Wackos, or…or do you not care if we’re discovered?”
“We,” Zach repeated, closing his eyes to absorb the weight of that word. “My father never would have forced an Affinity to join us. Danny…is a different breed. Can I see it?”
“See what?”
“The tattoo. I know Josh gave one to you. There’s no other reason Danny would have released him from his cell after…what he did.”
“Oh. Oh, yes, he did.” Uncurling her arms, she pulled up the sleeves of her sweater, exposing an intricate design of thick, woven lines. They spiraled and intertwined in a hue of orange much paler than her tan skin, extending farther than she could lift her sleeves. “They cut off at my shoulders, but Danny said one day…he wants them to cover my entire body. For now, he said this is fine.”
Zach’s rage was well contained but undeniably present. “Have they healed?” She nodded. “Do they bother you when you use your Affinity?”
“No, they just look…strange when my skin stretches. Do you…do you have tattoos to symbolize that you’re a Wacko?”
“You don’t want to see them.”
“I do,” she insisted much too quickly. “I mean…I won’t judge or scorn you. It seems like you had as little choice in this fate as I did.”
“You don’t want to see them.” That she didn’t flinch or apologize made him exhale a bit of his frustration. “It’ll be late before my brother is through with his rampage. If you have no aversion for filthiness, you’re welcome to sleep in my…roommate’s bed.”
Maddy smiled softly, knowing the offer was reluctant but appreciating it anyway. “Thanks.”
“Just…don’t come on this side of the room,” he warned, eyeing the empty middle part as if there were a literal line drawn there.
She hadn’t encountered a boy afraid of cooties since kindergarten, but she was keenly aware that wasn’t Zach’s predicament; it had been impossible to forget about his cleaning Affinity—and that he’d defied it by willingly feeding her all those weeks when she was too disgusting to tolerate even her own grime.
“I won’t,” she assured him. The physical distance was well worth the emotional intimacy his faint smirk established.
Despite his previous sentiments, Avner had not been ready to run miles. None of the former prisoners, with their atrophied muscles and encumbering wounds, had been.
The two Regg guards trailing them hadn’t stood after slipping on Jamad’s ice. When Naretha lifted their limps heads, she found their eyes impaled by broken glass. Still, she and Jamad ensured they were dead in other ways. Avner hadn’t had the breath to scold them—or the will.
Their jogging pace soon lulled into a trudge as they traveled across the open fields, passing through farms and avoiding major roads. Even if the researchers at the compound had died, it wouldn’t be long before the government discovered what happened and started a search for the escaped Affinities.
At dusk, the group collectively decided to rest in a wooded area, where the sporadic whoosh of a passing car could be heard from the nearby roads. Many people collapsed against trees, panting heavily, but Naretha, who had used Avner and Zeela as crutches throughout the journey, flopped directly onto the leaf-ridden ground, staring up at the barren trees and darkening sky as if dead.
“We can’t stay here long,” she moaned as others skirted around her, seeking spots for themselves. “Judging by the highways we’ve passed, we must be only a two-hour drive from Cleveland.”
“Cool,” Jamad said as he gently placed Meredith against a tree, “but we don’t have a car.”
Naretha inclined her head to shoot him a withering look as he plopped onto the ground beside the girl. She had been too weak to walk for the last hour, and Avner had admired his friend’s strength and selflessness when he’d scooped her into his arms. He’d then siphoned the coldness from her body, thwarting the chilly air from depleting the last of her energy, and Avner knew he would have offered the girl his clothes, too, if he had any. While none of them had been adequately prepared for this journey, most wearing t-shirts and rubbing their arms, Jamad and Meredith were certainly the most scantily dressed, both in only their undergarments.
“We all have superpowers, Snowman,” the Wacko droned. “I’m sure one of us can steal a car.”
“We aren’t stealing any more cars.” Avner crossed his arms and glowered down at her. “And we aren’t going to the Wacko hideout. We can’t bring a group this size there—it’ll draw attention.”
“Danny would be more than pleased to have some new recruits.”
Irritated and pointedly ignoring her, Avner continued, “We need to get the rest of these people to safety.”
“And where is safety?”
“Periculand.”
Naretha barked out a laugh as she strained to sit upright and look him in the eye. Even though they’d been in her company for weeks now, Avner still shied away from thos
e pale pink eyes, knowing the violence her scowl promised.
“We are not going back to Periculand. You’re a fugitive, I’m a terrorist, and Angor practically works for the government. When they hear that we’ve gone there seeking refuge, we’ll end up in another cell, not to mention that, if Angor does help us, the government might be pissed enough to shut down the whole town and take all of them as test subjects, too. Do you really want to damn them all? Do you really want to damn your sister?”
The possible validity of her words gnawed at him, but he kept his expression rigid and his doubt concealed. “Angor wouldn’t let that happen. He’s not a saint, but his life goal has always been to protect Affinities—”
“As has Danny’s. None of these people will be harmed if we go to Wacko Headquarters. That’s where I’m going, whether you’re coming or not. At this point, we’re about halfway between both locations, so it’s your choice, Sparky. It’s everyone’s choice,” she said, her elevated voice quieting the murmurs and the shuffling. “You can go to Wacko Headquarters, where you’ll fight for our freedom—fight against the people who did this to us—or you can go hide in Periculand, secured behind those walls, waiting for the day the government invades.”
“That’s a little biased,” Avner retorted, hating the way her speech riveted the rest of the group. “Periculand is a safe place. Not everyone wants violence.”
“It doesn’t matter what we want, Av,” Jamad interjected, idly forming icicles on his fingertips. “The government’s gonna give us violence either way. Periculand won’t keep us safe after what we did. We made our choice the day we broke Naretha out. We’re Wackos now.”
The Wacko’s lips spread with manic delight, but Avner shook his head in revulsion.
“How can you say that, J? Do you—do you want to be a terrorist? Do you want to kill people?”
“Already have, Av.” Jamad’s shrug was light, but the iciness in those blue eyes was severe. “And so have you.”
Schooling his features into neutrality was a feat for Avner. That jab cut deep, digging up the guilt he’d spent the last few hours burying. The Starks were dead because of him. Whether they were consumed by the flames, the smoke, or even starvation, they would perish, and one day Avner would have to look Seth and Tray in the eye, knowing what he’d stolen from them. Jamad hadn’t known the Starks, and he had the right to be bitter against Reggs, but his total apathy toward their deaths… Avner couldn’t be swayed into his friend’s line of thinking—and he couldn’t stand to join a group of terrorists who aimed to tear more families apart.
“I started this quest to save Maddy,” Avner began, his glare unflinching, “and I will save her—but first I owe safety to these people. I owe them a chance at a better life—one unmarred by violence. So, whoever wants to go to Periculand, I will take them.”
A few appeared relieved, but others, like Charlie, still glanced toward Naretha expectantly. Avner didn’t care about that; if Charlie wanted to join the Wackos, fine. What mattered was the decision of the person standing beside him, hugging her arms and staring into the trees with that ominous white eye. When he gradually shifted his gaze to her, she refused to look in his direction.
“Give me an hour,” Naretha said to the people looking to her for guidance. “Once my energy’s replenished, we’ll steal some cars.”
“I can lay some ice on the pavement—get the cars to slip enough that they have to stop. Then we ambush them, and you,” Jamad said, pointing to the lady with the morphing fingers, who was propped against a tree, still out of breath. “You can unlock the car doors.”
The old lady nodded, completely unopposed to joining the Wackos. Avner’s jaw clenched as he watched his friend take charge of this group with such ease.
“Hey, what’s your name, by the way?” Jamad asked the woman as her powder-yellow eyes peered at him through the dark.
“You can call me Key Fingers,” she replied with a mischievous little grin.
Jamad scrunched his nose. “I’m not calling you that—that’s weird. What’s your real name?”
“Bethel.”
“Oh… Maybe I should call you Key Fingers.”
“I’ve heard of Key Fingers, the jewel thief,” Naretha mused with an appreciative glance at the woman. “Nice work. Stealing from rich Reggs has always been a hobby of mine.”
“That’s how I got caught by those experimenters,” the woman admitted bitterly, shaking her head at the memory. “They stole all my stolen jewels, those bastards.”
“All the more reason to join our cause,” Naretha sang with a spiteful smirk in Avner’s direction. “Can you see the nearest road?” she asked Zeela.
“Yes. I can lead you to—”
“Z,” Avner interrupted, his voice cautious despite his astonishment. This was what he’d dreaded, but he hadn’t seriously thought… “You…want to help them?”
She bit her lip but wouldn’t fully look at him. “Av…”
“You can’t seriously—” The awkwardness of her expression stopped him. She would go with them whether he approved or not; it wasn’t his decision to make. He didn’t want to control her—to dictate her decisions—but they had always looked to each other for reassurance, and now…
“We still have to save Maddy,” she said quietly, decidedly, “and you know we can’t go back.”
He knew, but he couldn’t say he knew. Periculand would be the only safe place for these people—these innocent Affinities who didn’t want to get involved in a terrorist group. He had to believe Angor would accept them, even if the principal didn’t accept him.
“I’m sorry,” was all Avner could think to say, but he wasn’t quite sure what he was sorry for. The list was endless, and that he chose to walk away in that moment rather than persuade her to his cause was only an added offense.
He couldn’t just stand there and listen to them plan their villainous journey to Wacko Headquarters, though. Not when it had been so clear that Jamad’s intentions were no longer to save Maddy. Not when Zeela would accompany them and, perhaps, join them. Without Avner around, what would stop her? She had never been immoral, but the Reggs had tortured them—they’d carved out her eye. Of course she would want revenge—hell, Avner wanted revenge, too.
The Wackos promised vengeance, just as they promised destruction. Would Zeela know where to draw the line between justice and cruelty? He didn’t seem to; he always stopped too soon, always let the bad guys get away. If those experimenters hadn’t died—if they stood before him right now—would he punish them for what they’d done to Zeela, or would he shy away from that responsibility to preserve his conscience?
It wasn’t until someone grabbed his arm that he realized how far from the group he’d trekked. When he spun around to face Zeela, he could barely see the pack of resting Affinities beyond her.
“Avner,” she said, tentatively lowering her hand, “I know you think Periculand is the right option, but what if we go there and put our sisters in danger? I don’t want Eliana to get hurt. I want to find Maddy. And now that we’ve seen what the Reggs are capable of…the Wackos might be good allies.”
“Z,” he blurted out, bemusedly appalled.
“Naretha’s given me more information that leads me to believe they’re not wholly evil—the root of their cause isn’t, anyway. If we…joined them, we could help their morality… But I’m just speculating,” she added, brows creased in a manner of disorientation that was uncommon for her. “Are you really so angry at me?”
“No, I’m not.” He swallowed, knowing his demeanor should have been tranquil enough for her to distinguish. “Can you…not tell how I’m feeling?”
Closing her eye, face contorting with pain, Zeela said, “I can’t see auras anymore, Avner. When they removed my left eye, that ability went with it. And your features… You’re just a blob of heat and bones now.”
“You can’t tell me apart from…anyone else?”
“Barely,” she admitted guiltily. “Your voice, obviously, bu
t…all of the unique and creative aspects of you that my eyesight formed before are gone. I’m sorry.”
“No, Zeela”—he squeezed her shoulders—“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let them do this to you. I should have found a way… You said before that you could see the sedatives in Naretha’s blood. How?”
“I don’t know. I can see…strange things now—biological and chemical things. When the scientists…removed my eye, they said something about how the right hemisphere of the brain was connected to my left eye. Since the right hemisphere is the creative side, it must have been what allowed me to see more definitive shapes and emotions. Now all I have is the left hemisphere controlling my right eye, the logical side that allows me to view what is concrete and objective.”
He stroked his hand along her cheek, savoring the feel of her skin. “This doesn’t change you, Z—this doesn’t change who you are. You’re still powerful and you’re still valuable. If I need to express my emotions in more obvious ways, I will. You know I’ll do anything for you.”
“Will you travel to the Wackos with me?” she asked, encasing his hand in hers.
“I can’t join a group that seeks to demolish all Reggs,” he said softly. “There are good Reggs, even if many of the ones we’ve encountered were bad. The Starks…”
“That wasn’t your fault. You didn’t put them down there, and you couldn’t have broken them free without risking yourself. The fire…I saw it—it was an accident. If you want to return to Periculand just to apologize to the Stark twins…save it, Avner. Save it for when we can be guaranteed safety. I don’t want you to become a prisoner again—ever again.”
“It just doesn’t make sense,” he sighed, finally pulling away to rub his hand over his stubbly head. “I know Tray’s gotten letters from his mom. How would that be possible if she’s been locked up?”
“Maybe they were captured recently. We don’t know how long we were stuck down there. It could have been a while.”
“Well, then the other issue is why would the Starks be captives of Regg researchers? They were Reggs themselves. Richard was a journalist, and Linda…I can’t remember what she did… Regardless, they were a nice couple. Unless the government captured them because of their sons, I don’t see their purpose there.”
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