Unleashed

by Carolyn O'Doherty

  “What the hell…?” KJ says.

  I wrench my gaze away from his chest and follow the direction of his accusing finger. Victor lies in a heap on the kitchen floor. Faith, presumably having decided it’s safe, kneels beside him.

  “Vic,” she croons, stroking her brother’s bruised cheek. “You OK? Talk to me.”

  KJ turns from crumpled Victor to unhurt Jack. “You did this while he was frozen, didn’t you?”

  Jack’s expression turns mutinous. “He deserved it.”

  “No one deserves that,” I say. “He never had a chance.”

  Victor moans.

  “He has more of a chance than we do,” Jack snaps. “We’re the ones the wipers are after.” His glance jumps between me and KJ, a jittery flick so fast he couldn’t possibly have focused on either of us. “They’re getting closer. That’s why I came back, to warn you.”

  For once, the talk of wipers doesn’t send me into a tailspin of panic. I study Jack more closely. His collared shirt is crumpled into a network of wrinkles. Veins redden the whites of his eyes.

  “Where did you see wipers?” I ask.

  “They’re everywhere.” Jack twists his hands together, popping one knuckle after the other. “We have to get out here. Now, or they’ll catch us all.”

  “Maybe someone should catch you if that’s what you do with your skills.” KJ motions again toward the boy on the floor. Victor is sitting up now, holding his stomach like he might be sick. Faith rubs his shoulders.

  “Who cares about him?” Jack says. “He’s a jerk.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” KJ asks. “You’re acting like the kind of paranoid monster Norms think we are.”

  “Whose side are you on?” The rage leaps back to light Jack’s face with shining intensity. He faces KJ in the same position he’d stared down Victor. “How’d you get Alex out of the Center, anyway? Who helped you?”

  KJ squares up in front of Jack. His hands are clenched, and his back is so tense it’s nearly vibrating.

  “Stop it!” I shout. “Both of you.”

  Neither one moves. Something in the distance shatters. It sounds like an echo of everything that’s breaking between us.

  “Come on.” I place a tentative hand on KJ’s shoulder. “Let’s all just leave. If we…”

  Shannon pushes her way past me and flings herself against KJ’s bare chest. Unlike KJ, she took the time to dress, choosing a pale cardigan that makes her look like a schoolteacher at a particularly conservative elementary school. Or would have if her face wasn’t taut with terror.

  “Someone’s coming!” she gasps.

  Jack whirls around. “What?”

  Shannon buries her head in KJ’s chest. His hands move automatically to stroke her blond hair.

  “Can’t you hear them?” Shannon whispers. “Someone is coming upstairs.”

  All six of us hold completely still, listening. I strain my ears and hear nothing. A second passes. Then, from the depths of the warehouse, the floor squeaks.

  I grab for time, snatching at the infinite strands and locking them into place. Silence descends. Skirting the others, I race toward the back of the squat. In its dusky recesses, two men stand a few feet from the door that leads down into Elmer’s. One holds a flashlight. Both are creeping toward what must be the unmistakable sound of people shouting. Just behind them, a vase lies in pieces on the floor, toppled from a pile of junk Victor used to block the door.

  All the fears that had abandoned me come flooding back. What if Jack is right? What if the wipers have finally found us?

  I sprint back to the others, letting time go as I enter the kitchen. The transition melts seamlessly. Thank god. One dose of Aclisote hasn’t been enough to change my skills.

  “Shannon’s right,” I whisper. “Two people by the back stairs. We’ve gotta go.”

  “Wipers.” Jack’s face turns ashen.

  “I’ll take Shannon,” KJ says, grabbing her bare hand in his own. “Where do we meet?”

  “The parking lot by the mini-mart,” I whisper. “There’s an alley behind the dumpster.”

  KJ nods. Faith whimpers.

  “Victor.” She shakes him. “Get up.”

  Jack turns to me. “Alex.”

  “What?” I snap.

  He recoils like I’ve slapped him. “Never mind.” He disappears.

  Victor hauls himself to his feet and leans against the wobbly dresser. Blood still leaks from his nose, bright streaks of scarlet against the pallor of his chin.

  “Come on, hurry,” Faith begs. I can hear the tears in her voice.

  Shannon wraps both her hands around KJ’s. “Let’s go,” she says, pulling him away from me. The sound of people moving through the squat is now unmistakable.

  “What about them?” KJ asks me, nodding toward the two Norms.

  “I’ll deal with them,” I say. “You guys go. Quick.” KJ nods, and he and Shannon vanish.

  I cross to Victor and Faith and put a hand on each of theirs. Faith flinches. I don’t let go. Victor has been nothing but rude since the day we stepped foot in the squat. He’s threatened us, blackmailed us, and taken advantage of Jack’s admiration. Faith openly despises me. Even so, I know I can’t leave them to the mercy of whoever is heading this way. The two of them allowed us shelter, however dirty and grim it might be, and neither one turned us in. In our world, this might be the closest to friendship with a Norm we ever get.

  “Trust me,” I say, and stop time.

  Faith gapes around the silent kitchen, taking in the filtered light and the dust motes hanging in the air.

  “Everything’s frozen?” She touches her ear, as if unsure it still works.

  “Yeah.” I step away from them. “Go get your stuff together. I can’t hold this for long.”

  “Sit here,” Faith tells Victor, settling him down on one of the boxes Jack recently deserted. “I’ll be right back.”

  Victor nods. I hurry to my own corner and find my shoes, then shove some clothes into a backpack. The sleeping bag I leave where it is. It will take too long to erase all evidence of our stay, and it’s a useless effort, anyway. The free ride at the squat is over.

  Faith is waiting in the kitchen when I return. She’s folded their blankets into a neat roll and strapped them to the top of a large backpack. Given the speed with which she got all their stuff together, I’m guessing this isn’t the first time they’ve had to leave in a rush.

  “You guys have somewhere to go?” I ask.

  Faith nods, draping a patched duffle bag over Victor’s shoulders. “Our cousin can usually put us up for a while.” Her drifting gaze focuses on me. “Where are you going?”

  I shrug.

  Faith fiddles with a ring weighing down her thumb. “Try the Pegasus Motel. Out on Eighty-Second. They take cash and don’t ask questions.”

  I adjust the strap on my pack. “Thanks, but we’re leaving town.”

  Victor mutters something under his breath that includes the words deal and filthy spinners. Faith takes his arm and helps him to his feet.

  Victor manages the fire escape reasonably well. By the time we reach the bottom, he’s recovered enough to push away my hand when I try to steady him. At my direction, the three of us weave through the unmoving traffic to reach the mini-mart. Faith stares around her, wide-eyed, taking in the people caught in private moments of their lives: a man’s face twisted in the middle of a sneeze, a recently dropped cigarette floating beside a car, a woman driving with one hand as she reaches toward the back seat to comfort a crying baby.

  KJ and Shannon are two steps outside the alley that runs along one side of the mini-mart. They’d frozen only a few seconds before we did, so they must have melted time back here only recently. Shannon is carrying a cloth grocery bag filled with her things. She clutches the small packet against her chest like
it holds something precious. KJ, dressed now and wearing the other backpack on his shoulders, is peering back toward the spot where we will momentarily appear. Jack, who should have gotten there first, is nowhere in sight.

  “In here,” I say, squeezing my way past the dumpster.

  “This place stinks.” Victor’s face has blossomed into a full set of bruises, a bouquet of red and dark-blue smudges that enhances his usual aura of threat. I’m grateful Jack chose somewhere else to reappear. I doubt I could have held Victor back if he’d run across the defenseless frozen body of his attacker.

  “It will just be for a few seconds,” I say.

  Victor backs away. “I need a soda. I’m gonna go in the store and…”

  “No.” The pulse of a headache cuts my patience short. “I’m melting time in five seconds. If you stay out here, the Norms will see you appear out of nowhere.” Victor glares at me. I glare back. “They’ll think you’re a spinner.”

  Faith steps into the alley with atypical assertiveness. Victor, still grumbling, follows her. I don’t bother to double-check if anyone is watching. Ducking my head so I’m sheltered by the dumpster’s green bulk, I let time slide out of my control. Molecules of trash-scented air expand to fill the space around us.

  “Man.” Victor makes a gagging sound. “Now it really stinks.”

  “Wait,” I say, breathing through my mouth to avoid the rancid stench, which doesn’t really help—instead of smelling the rottenness, I can sort of taste it. “Let the others get a little way ahead, so we don’t all pop out at the same…”

  I should have saved my breath. Victor is already pushing his way out from behind the dumpster. Faith remains behind, crouched beside me in the putrid alley. A bit of the trim on her skirt has come loose and trails in a puddle of muck by her feet.

  “Faith,” Victor calls. “Let’s go.”

  Instead of getting up, Faith turns to face me.

  “You could have left us there,” she says.

  I shift my weight to ease a cramp in my knee.

  “I know.”

  Faith stands. Bulked up with the heavy pack, she seems less flighty.

  “I’m glad you didn’t.”

  I straighten up and follow her into the parking lot. KJ and Shannon are waiting a few feet away in what I’m guessing are supposed to be casual positions, but they just come off as awkward. I tip my chin in their direction. KJ nods back, tight-lipped. Faith moves toward Victor, and the two of them set off down the busy street. Neither one looks back.

  “Have you seen Jack?” I ask KJ.

  He crosses his arms. “And you care, why?”

  “Just because what he did was wrong,” I say, “doesn’t mean we can leave Portland without him.”

  KJ’s expression remains grim but he doesn’t contradict me. We wait. A car pulls into the mini-mart’s parking lot and we all watch the driver get out and wander inside. Five minutes later, he emerges carrying a jumbo soda and climbs back in his car. KJ checks his watch. Shannon cranes her neck to peer past the smelly dumpster.

  A police car turns the corner, pulling up neatly at the curb by Elmer’s front door. KJ tenses and hoists his backpack higher on his shoulders.

  “We should go.”

  We start walking. Quickly, but not too quickly, cutting through residential streets where the cops are less likely to go. KJ and Shannon start arguing about what we should do next. I struggle to follow their conversation. My mind feels clouded. The fear I thought I’d escaped trails after me, soft whispers of doubt warning me about all the dangers closing in around us.

  19 CARSON ROSS

  SHE ESCAPED. WHEN BARNARD CALLED HIM WITH THE news, Ross almost laughed. Alex is such a clever girl. She must have learned to be so wily from spending time with him. He won’t let her slip away again.

  Ross flicks through the jackets hanging in his closet, selecting a long, nondescript overcoat that should shield him from prying eyes—those of the force (he’d told Chief he had a family emergency) and those of his quarry. Ross smiles at himself in the mirror, then leans forward to study his own bared teeth. It’s probably time to whiten them again so they’ll show up better in photographs. Chief Graham has the advantage of dark skin to make his teeth look bright, whereas Ross must rely on cosmetics. He smooths his hair, dons a pair of sunglasses and a Mariners baseball cap, then, with one final glance in the mirror, heads out the door.

  The day outside glitters with sunshine. Fall is by far Portland’s best season—only occasionally too hot, blue sky, and minimal rain. His car chirps as he releases the lock. It’s a beautiful car—a Saab, extravagant for a policeman’s salary, but then Ross doesn’t intend to live on a policeman’s salary for much longer. The engine purrs; Ross lets it warm up while he checks his phone.

  He’d almost deleted the tracking app when he lost her to the cage in the Center’s lobby. Now he’s glad he resisted. The map zooms in as it locates the baited business card. Is Alex’s refusal to part with it a sign of latent sentimentality? The question barely crosses his mind before a queasy flash brings back her expression when she saw him yesterday. He’d expected her to look surprised. He hadn’t expected that much fear. What changed? She used to be so trusting, so faithful. Ross clips the phone into its dashboard cradle. One of the other spinners must have turned her against him. He’ll be able to bring her around again, but until then, if she won’t work for him out of devotion, he can always use leverage. Alex, he knows, is extremely fond of her friends. Especially KJ.

  The Saab rolls smoothly out of the garage, and Ross guides it onto the freeway, heading to a spot near the abandoned warehouse that the app shows as her current location. When he’s halfway there, the dot abruptly jumps west. Ross keeps driving, glancing occasionally at the map. The dot starts moving more quickly than a walking pace, which means she must have gotten on a bus. Based on the route, she’s most likely heading downtown.

  Ross takes the Market Street exit, following a path that will intersect the bus. The dot jumps again. Ross changes course. Sunshine streams through his tinted windows, its warmth balanced by the cooling breeze from the car’s air conditioning. Ross turns on the stereo, and the sweet strains of a Vivaldi violin concerto fill the car, the music both uplifting and calming. Ross keeps time with his finger, tapping the steering wheel with steady beats as the gap between him and the wavering dot gets smaller. He turns left on Tenth. He’s driving slowly now, scanning the sidewalk for a glimpse of her. He doesn’t see her, but she must see him, because the dot jumps again. Ross smiles to himself and corrects course. He can play this game all day. The more she freezes, the more tired she’s going to get. Even if she and her friends take turns, they eventually won’t be able to run anymore.

  The dot leads him up to NW Twenty-Third, then into the Pearl District, then back near Pioneer Courthouse Square. Every time he gets close, the dot vanishes. Ross hums along to the music. She must recognize the car by now. She must be very scared.

  At noon, he stops to pick up a sandwich. Has she eaten? Maybe he should get some food for her, too? He compromises by buying a large coffee. Alex’s headache will be blinding by now.

  Back in the car, he checks the app again. The dot is not moving. Ross puts the Saab in gear and closes in. It leads him to an Indian restaurant in the heart of downtown. An odd choice. She must have finally lost her strength. Ross finds a parking spot and heads inside. Music continues playing in his head, the notes as glorious as his mood.

  “Table for one?” asks a dark-haired woman wrapped in a red and gold sari.

  Ross flashes his badge. “I’m following a suspect who I believe may have taken refuge here. Do you mind if I do a quick search?”

  The woman’s eyes go wide. “Should we evacuate or anything?”

  “No, no.” Ross smiles. “She’s not at all dangerous. A runaway.”

  The woman, looking relieved, leads him to the back o
f the restaurant. There aren’t a lot of places to hide. Ross tucks his sunglasses into his pocket. The kitchen is much too crowded and busy to offer cover. The small supply closet is empty of anything human. The door to the bathroom is locked, but when he knocks, no one answers. Ross checks the app again. The dot still hasn’t moved.

  “Do you have a key for this?” he asks the hostess.

  The woman nods and hurries off, returning a minute later carrying a single key on a chain that includes a miniature soup ladle.

  “Thanks,” Ross tells her. “I’ll just be a minute. You can go back to work.”

  The hostess leaves with some reluctance, looking back over her shoulder as she walks away. Ross checks that he has the leash in his pocket while he waits for her to go. Agents are only assigned one leash, which is too bad. Assuming they’re all still together, it would be a nice bonus to catch the whole group. Maybe, once he nabs Alex, the others will give up and come with her? This whole day carries the inevitability of destiny. His future is waiting for him on the other side of this door, and he can already taste his success—the flavor is deep and rich, like the tempered sweetness of a dark-chocolate pot de crème.

  Ross slides the key in the lock and opens the door. The bathroom smells strongly of potpourri. It’s dark, but Ross can hear her breathing, shallow and quick, like the cornered animal she is. Judging by the sound, she’s alone.

  “Alex?”

  He turns on the light. The runaway spinner sits on the floor, wedged next to a small shelf stocked with extra paper towels and toilet paper. One hand holds a large kitchen knife, but the hand is trembling, the knife listing at half-mast. The music in Ross’s head ends with an unmelodious screech. The knife isn’t a problem. What is a problem is that the person crouched on the floor isn’t Alex.

  “Don’t come any closer,” Jack croaks, brandishing the knife weakly.

  A furious roar replaces Ross’s imaginary symphony. Are the fates mocking him? Did Alex think so little of his offer that she gave his card away? Did she give it to Jack so she could trick Ross on purpose? Alex’s face the last time he saw her swims before him again: her blanched cheeks, her pinched mouth. It wasn’t just fear in her eyes, it was something more personal: loathing.