Unleashed

by Carolyn O'Doherty

  For a moment, we stand there, hands linked, staring at the closed door.

  “Think that worked?” I ask.

  “We’ll see.” KJ pockets the card and grabs the handle. When the door swings open, I release a shaky breath.

  The two of us step over the threshold together. KJ pulls his sweatshirt off and wedges it between the door and the frame to keep it from closing all the way. We huddle in the hallway, peering around the darkened space. The black cavern of the cafeteria opens off to our right. Up ahead lie the double doors to the gym. Just before it is the stairwell that leads to the lobby. The lack of light makes the once-familiar spaces seem foreign; the usually comforting silence makes them eerie.

  “What now?” KJ’s voice booms in the quiet.

  “We get the keys,” I say. “Then we start waking up the kids.”

  “Let’s check the guard station’s monitor, too,” KJ says. “If we rewind, maybe we can tell if he saw us open the garage door.”

  We walk down the echoing hall and climb the stairs to the main floor. The lobby’s overhead lights are blinding after so much time in the dark. It’s not a big lobby, maybe fifteen feet wide. Barnard’s office is on the other side, the front door is to our left, and to our right is the main staircase—a last remnant of the building’s glory days as a grand hotel—leading to the upper floors. The guard station stands halfway across the room, tucked against the bend in the stairs’ elegant curve.

  Off to the side, near the front door, piles of boxes are stacked like oversized blocks. Neat writing identifies each one’s owner: Yuki Ota, Emmaline Smith, Emilio Montero. Fear nips at my heels. We won’t have a second chance at this rescue; there is no room tonight for errors.

  “Guard station first?” KJ asks.

  I nod, and we cross the threshold into the lobby.

  Dread catches me before I’ve taken three steps. I jump back, panicked. On the other side of the tiled floor, the door to Barnard’s office radiates a familiar ominous warning.

  “Stop!” I call to KJ.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I point. “The zapper’s on. Can’t you feel it?”

  KJ follows the line of my finger. “Feel what?”

  “It’s like…” I struggle to find the right words. “Like something huge and hairy is about to jump on top of you.”

  He shakes his head. “I can’t feel it. Maybe ’cause it’s not my freeze?”

  “Yeah.” I stare at the closed door. The terror has lessened now that I’ve backed away, but just knowing it’s there makes the wood seem like it’s pulsing with evil. “Stay away from Barnard’s office. We don’t know how it works. Maybe any spinner getting near the zapper is enough to break the freeze.”

  KJ edges his way to the front of the guard station and sticks his head inside the sliding glass window so he can see the video monitors.

  “Rewind for a bit,” he calls. I reach for the strands and pull time backward a few minutes, slowly, so KJ can watch the feed and the guard’s reaction at the same time. It’s awkward; the danger emanating from Barnard’s office rattles my concentration.

  “We’re good.” KJ straightens and heads back in my direction.

  I wipe away the sweat dampening my upper lip. The farther KJ gets from the zapper, the easier it is for me to hold time.

  “Let’s go to the staff lounge,” I say.

  The light from the lobby doesn’t reach very far down the hall, so by the time we get to the lounge it’s nearly pitch black. KJ fishes the key card out of his pocket and holds out his hand. I take it. Air shifts around us as time moves forward. The door clicks. I wait, just for a second, to make sure the lock unlatched.

  The hall vanishes. I blink, change hitting me so hard my brain has trouble making sense of it. I’m inside the lounge. The lights are on. Time is frozen, but I know it’s not my freeze. My body is off-balance. I stumble but don’t fall because someone is holding my wrist in a very tight grip. It’s Jack. He’s standing in front of me, and smiling next to him, one hand firmly clasped around Jack’s bare forearm, is Carson Ross.

  25

  “HELLO, ALEX,” ROSS SAYS. “WELCOME BACK.”

  The coffee I’d drunk earlier burns my stomach. I rip my arm free from Jack’s hold and spin around. KJ is propped against the wall behind me, frozen, his hand still clutching the key card, though he’s no longer facing the door. Jack must have been listening for the click of the door’s release, freezing time as soon as he heard it. The room wobbles. I put out a hand to steady myself, but there’s nothing nearby to grab hold of.

  “Sorry about this,” Jack says.

  “I don’t understand.” My brain feels sluggish, as if my thoughts are moving through glue. “Why is Ross here?”

  “You turned down his offer,” Jack says. “So instead he asked me.”

  “You’re going to work for Ross?”

  Jack fiddles with the sleeve of his jacket—the fancy one we bought the day we stole all that money. The animal smell of leather drifts into my nose, bringing back memories of us standing together, laughing over fistfuls of cash. The sludge in my brain grows thicker.

  “Why?”

  Jack looks away. “I don’t have a choice.”

  “Of course you have a choice. You’re making the wrong one.”

  “We’ll never survive out there alone,” he says. He’s pulling on his jacket’s zipper, sliding it up and down with quick jerks, making an erratic zzzz sound that fills the space between us. “You saw them. The wipers were everywhere. Ross is the only person who can keep us safe.”

  The words, I’m sure, are Ross’s. They smack of his egotism, plus the man himself is beaming at Jack, a proud mentor watching his protégé.

  “Ross is a liar,” I say. Miguel’s offer hovers on the tip of my tongue, but I know I can’t reveal it in front of Ross. Too many other spinners rely on Miguel’s protection. “Whatever he promised you is not going to happen.”

  “It already has,” Jack says. “I’m free. Ross even got me a guitar. I start lessons on Monday.”

  The room feels crowded. The presence of Carson Ross sucks up all the vacant space. I know all about his earnest expression, his reassuring tone. Ross is easy to believe—until he isn’t.

  “What about everyone else?” I ask. “Do you know that’s why I came here tonight? To rescue them all?”

  Jack’s shoulders hunch under the heavy jacket, though his hand doesn’t stop its restless motion. “Getting out of the Center won’t help anyone. They’ll just get caught again. It’s cruel to give them hope when they aren’t going to get to live.”

  The jagged whir of Jack’s zipper is as bad as a leash. I can’t think with the annoying white noise filling my head.

  “They will make it. We all can. I know a place where we can go. Jack, please.”

  For the first time since I appeared in the lounge, Jack looks straight at me. Something flashes in his eyes—a question, or a glimpse of hope. I hold my breath, trying to telegraph the future I can see in my head: all the spinners away from the Center, united and strong. It doesn’t work. The light in Jack’s eyes is brief and quickly snuffed.

  “Face it,” he says, “only one of us is going to make it. Why shouldn’t it be me?”

  The vision in my head shatters.

  “Jack…!”

  “He’s made his decision, Alex.” Ross puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I think you’ve tortured him enough.”

  I whirl to face my former agent. “You just want to use him,” I say, “use his time skills to manipulate people so you can get what you want.”

  “And what’s wrong with that?” Ross moves toward me, away from Jack. “You have this power no one else does; why are you so afraid to use it when it can do so much good?”

  “You used me to murder someone, Ross.”

  “Someone who you know kille
d a bunch of other people. How is it wrong that he got paid back?”

  “You can’t just decide who’s guilty all by yourself.”

  Ross sighs, the annoyed huff of a teacher dealing with a tiresome Younger.

  “Our judicial system is broken. The wrong people get arrested every day. My goal has always been to make sure there is true justice.”

  There’s a hungry, hopeful expression on Ross’s face, and in that second, I know that if I said I would join him, I could be the one to walk out of here tonight instead of Jack. I step back.

  “The system might have flaws,” I say. “But they’re not as big as yours.”

  The light in Ross’s eyes turns dark. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a leash.

  “Come on,” Ross says to Jack. “It’s time to stop this nonsense.”

  The metal bracelet dangles from Ross’s fingers like a hungry jaw.

  “Jack,” I say, not taking my eyes off Ross. “You’re the one in control here. You can end this.”

  “No,” Jack says. He stops messing with his zipper. The silence it leaves behind feels ominous. “I can’t.”

  Ross makes an impatient gesture. The leash clanks in his hand, and I instinctively jump away from him. Pain lances my leg as the corner of a table drives into my thigh. I hold up my arms, braced to fend off Ross, but he hasn’t followed me. He’s reaching for KJ, and in one quick move, he snaps the leash around KJ’s wrist.

  “Take Alex’s arm,” Ross tells Jack. “I don’t want you letting time go for even a second until she’s handcuffed to the rail in my car.”

  The hard bulk of the table presses against the backs of my legs. KJ hovers to my right, the door to the hall beside him, but Ross stands firmly between it and me. Thoughts slog through my head without any coherent pattern. Think! I have to think.

  Jack’s fingers close around my upper arm. Ross moves away from the door, grabs the other one, and yanks it behind me with so much force I can’t help the cry of pain that bursts from my lips. Jack flinches but Ross doesn’t hesitate. He pulls a pair of handcuffs from his belt and locks both my wrists behind my back with the efficiency of long practice. Shock leaves me momentarily immobilized. I’ve seen Ross handcuff people dozens of times; I never imagined he’d handcuff me.

  “Come on,” Ross says, gripping my arm above the elbow. Jack takes his place on my other side and the two of them march me across the room.

  Wild plans skitter through the chaos in my head. I could kick over the bookcase and smash all of the ceramic figurines resting on its surface, creating an anomaly someone would have to explain when time melted, but would that help anything? We’re two steps past the bookcase before I can decide. My feet stumble as we start down the hall. Time isn’t moving and it’s still running out.

  The lobby, with its piles of boxes, opens before us. We step out onto the brightly lit floor and Jack stiffens.

  “There’s something wrong,” he says.

  I glance over at him. A sheen of sweat moistens his brow. The haze in my brain sharpens into focus as the explanation dawns on me: we’re within range of the zapper. I never told Jack about it, and Barnard would have no reason to tell Ross since he doesn’t think Ross knows the truth.

  My brain starts spinning out possibilities as fast as I can think them. Now that it’s not my freeze, the dark wood blocking Barnard’s office seems like any door to me, but I know to Jack the whole lobby must be oozing dread.

  Ross tugs me forward.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” he snaps at Jack.

  Jack’s eyes dart around the lobby, searching for the unseen threat. I pick up my pace. Jack’s hold on my arm loosens slightly. We’re nearly at the guard station. This is it. My only chance of escape.

  I run as hard as I can straight for Barnard’s office door, dragging my captors with me so that all three of us stumble forward. The door is almost near enough to touch. Even without being the one holding the freeze, this close I can feel the zapper, its buzz like the angry whine of a dentist drill working its way into my brain. Jack moans. I twist my head to look at him. Whatever disruptive waves squeeze my head, I know they are hurting Jack a hundred times more. It’s his freeze, and right now it’s being ripped out of his control.

  Moving air brushes my cheek. The overhead lights brighten. A snatch of music drifts from the guard-station radio. Jack’s hand slips off my arm. He’s blinking, his face mirroring the dizzy sickness that I remember from my own experience with the zapper. Ross’s head jerks around to look at Jack. Taking advantage of his moment of confusion, I spin toward Ross and drive my knee as hard as I can into his crotch.

  Ross groans. I rip my arm out of his grasp and scramble out of range of the zapper, so I can stop time.

  Silence descends. I stand on the threshold and look back. Jack’s body hangs in an awkward crouch, hands wrapped around the agony that must be in his head. Ross is bent forward with his face clenched in pain. The guard in the security station has half-risen, his head almost at the station window as he cranes toward the flash of commotion.

  I race down the hall, my bound arms flopping awkwardly against my back. When I reach KJ, I twist my body so that I can touch my bare hand against his. Melt time. Freeze time.

  KJ starts. His eyes flash from my cuffed hands to his leashed wrist.

  “What happened?”

  “Ross.” I struggle to keep my voice steady while I explain. KJ’s brows draw lower and lower until they are a solid line across his forehead.

  “Jack’s a spinner!” KJ bursts out when I finish. “How could he side against us like that?”

  “He truly thinks the offer is legit. Ross can be really convincing. Plus, Jack must have been a mess when Ross caught him. He’d frozen way too much. You haven’t felt it. It makes you crazy.”

  “You’re defending him?”

  “Yes. No.” A headache blooms behind my forehead, its soft pulse counting down the minutes I can still hold time. A welter of panic bubbles inside me. I can’t be getting tired yet. We haven’t even started taking out the other spinners.

  “It doesn’t matter right now,” I say. “What matters is that you’re leashed.”

  The black line across KJ’s face draws even straighter. He holds up his arm, pulling against the leash in a useless effort to slide his hand through the narrow opening. He’s lost the blank stare that haunted him all day. Instead, he exudes the shocked alertness of someone recently doused with a bucket of ice water.

  “Ross will have a key,” he says. “To this and those cuffs.”

  We make our way back down the hall, and I wait at the lobby’s entrance while KJ approaches the hunched figures of Jack and Ross. Fear laps at me from across the room. I curl my toes away from the lobby floor, the smooth linoleum as threatening as a pool of venom. KJ moves steadily closer to the two guys. Time wobbles in my hold, an external pull that drags at the ephemeral force I control.

  “KJ,” I shout. “I’m losing it. Get away from there. Now!”

  KJ leaps back, making a quick grab to yank Ross’s inert body as he moves away from the office door. The pressure in my head lessens. KJ drags Ross across the lobby, then goes back and does the same with Jack; he’s panting with the effort by the time he reaches the steps. I wriggle my arms impatiently while he searches through Ross’s pockets: wallet, badge, phone, lock picks.

  “There!” I say, pointing with my chin when he digs out a key ring. I turn around and feel a rush of relief as my wrists are freed.

  “Now me,” KJ says. He hands over the keys and holds out his wrist. I search through the rattling chain. None of the keys fit the leash.

  “He must have left it in his car,” I say.

  “Can you pick it?” KJ asks.

  I study the leash’s locking mechanism. The slot looks nothing like a door’s. I try anyway, sliding in the pick and wiggling it the way Ross taught me. My
head aches.

  “It’s not working,” I say.

  “Forget it.” KJ pulls his wrist out of my hands. “Let’s put these two somewhere and then go search Ross’s car.”

  I nod, trying not to think of the growing pressure in my head and what that means for the others’ rescue. KJ shoves Ross’s belongings into his own pocket, before grabbing Ross under the arms. I do the same with Jack, and we drag their bodies down the hall to the janitor’s closet.

  The door has a regular, physical lock, but my hands are shaking so much it takes me four tries before I manage to pick it. The smell of cleaning solution fills the stale air. KJ and I stuff Ross and Jack inside. There isn’t a lot of room. I roll Ross onto his side and handcuff his arms just like he did mine. KJ grabs some clean rags from one of the storage bags; he uses a pair to tie Jack’s arms behind his back and another to gag them both. I stare down at Jack, crumpled in a corner, one leg flopped over Ross’s, the other balanced on an upturned bucket.

  “So we’re just going to leave him here.” I say the words slowly, as if tasting them to see what they’re like.

  KJ’s tone is grim. “He made his choice.”

  KJ slams the door shut and I relock it with the pick. The pins fall into place with the dull click of a bullet locking into the chamber of a gun.

  “Where do you think Ross parked?” KJ asks.

  I touch my forehead. I can feel time pulling at me, the strain of so much freezing wearing down my abilities with every second that doesn’t pass.

  “KJ,” I say. “We aren’t going to have time.”

  KJ turns to me. “What are you saying?”

  “I didn’t see a police car outside when we came in, which makes sense because Ross will have parked somewhere far away. I won’t be able to hold time long enough if we have to run around looking for it.” I hold out my hand. “Give me the key card to the lounge and run for the U-Haul. I’ll meet you there.”

  “You can’t hold the freeze long enough to get them all,” he says. “Not if you’re taking other people with you.”

  “I can try.”