Fearless

by Sarah Tarkoff

  “Yes . . .” I said.

  “Do you remember what they did? What the weapon was?”

  Don’t trust her! the voice was screaming. And kept screaming, all throughout our conversation.

  My hand flew to my mouth. “Mind control,” I whispered, putting it together. “You said it could put thoughts in people’s heads.”

  I felt monumentally stupid. The voice had never been Great Spirit, it wasn’t even my own thoughts. It was nanotech. “But how did they get in my brain? I thought I destroyed them all.”

  “Since they’re airborne, they likely infected you during the explosion itself. They’ve been multiplying in your brain ever since. Has the voice been getting louder as time’s gone on?”

  “Yes,” I said tentatively. I didn’t want to believe her, but I had trouble even hearing the words she was saying over all the yelling inside my brain.

  I thought back on everything the voice had told me to do. To jump out of the cab when I should have been getting to safety. To escape that underground city and potentially expose myself to capture again. To meet with not one but three prophets, tell them everything, and remain in their prison. To bail on my mission at the stadium just when I was getting close. To . . . find my mother. To put off going into hiding and risk everything to find her.

  I started to ask, “My mom . . .”

  Dawn’s gaze grew sympathetic. “When you were first infected with these mind control parasites, it’s possible you could have had a brief hallucinatory experience. It would explain what you saw in the hospital, particularly combined with the oxygen deprivation caused by the fire. There was probably no woman there at all. And the bugs, the stronger they got, seized on something they knew would divert you from your goal. That’s how they work.”

  “Parasites . . .” I said with horror, my mind consumed by the idea of something eating me from the inside.

  Dawn explained, “Have you ever heard of toxoplasma gondii?”

  “No . . . ”

  “It’s a parasite, a microscopic creature, that replicates in the intestinal systems of cats. A cat’s intestines are its home, and it’ll do anything to get back there.”

  “Gross,” Zack said.

  “When the parasite infects a mouse, it gets into its brain, and it makes that mouse less afraid of the smell of cat urine, of cats themselves. Meaning those mice become easier for cats to find and eat, leading the toxoplasma parasites, and the mouse along with them, right back to their breeding ground—the intestinal tract of a cat.”

  I tried to wrap my parasite-filled mind around that. “You’re saying the bugs in my brain are leading me to my death?”

  “Something like that. They hijack your gut feelings, your instincts, and make you do things that will sabotage our cause. They make you more trusting of the prophets and their ilk, and less trusting of everyone else. They’re even programmed to recognize the faces of known subversives and instill fear of those people. They’re designed to lead you straight to the prophets for questioning.”

  That was why I’d jumped out of the taxi, why I hadn’t trusted Dawn or Zack. Why I’d walked right up to Prophet Joshua, so fearlessly asking questions that might have blown my cover. Why I’d trusted Joshua when he said my mother was dead, accepted his words as truth when I’d doubted Dawn’s and Zack’s. Why I’d suddenly trusted my father, a noted cleric, why I’d felt so sure I could convince him of the truth. Why I’d felt safe with Samuel, and the prophets in Israel-Palestine. Why that voice had told me to confess to them, to stay in that cell. It was why the voice had told me to run just now when it knew I was close to accomplishing something the rebels wanted. Every action I’d taken since leaving that storage facility in New York had been driven by someone other than myself, had been compromised by Prophet Joshua himself.

  “I’d guess that your mother was a weakness the bugs found,” Dawn continued. “To keep you from getting yourself to safety.

  She’s lying to you! Your mother is alive!

  My mother was dead. The truth of it hollowed me out, left me shaking and numb. As much as every part of me had wanted to believe she found some way to survive, I couldn’t anymore. The proof was shouting in my brain. I’d spent all this time mistrusting everyone around me, but the only person I’d truly put my faith in—myself—that person turned out to be the least reliable of all.

  But still, I tried to find excuses. “But this voice, this feeling . . . it did some good things for me. It kept me from taking cyanide. And there were people waiting to torture me, inside the stadium . . .”

  “What people?” Zack asked, confused.

  Then I remembered that when I’d looked through that window, I hadn’t seen anyone at all. I’d hallucinated those voices. I’d hallucinated them saying exactly the thing that would compel me to turn away. I’d run away for no reason, just when our goal was within reach.

  “Okay, maybe there weren’t any people,” I said, embarrassed and a little defensive. “But I stayed safe, didn’t I? When you told me that Joshua would arrest me at any moment?”

  “Because you had people helping you,” Dawn said, frustrated. “I destroyed the evidence linking you to the hospital bunker, but I still don’t know how Zack hid everything else so well.” Dawn nodded to Zack, and he gave an appreciative smile.

  “I did what I could,” he said humbly.

  I looked at the two people I was sitting across from, two people whom this voice, this feeling in my gut, had warned me not to trust. I wondered if that proved their trustworthiness.

  “What do we do now?” Zack asked Dawn.

  Dawn regarded him warily. “Are you still willing to work with us?”

  Zack nodded, clearly overwhelmed. “I want my freedom back.”

  “Help us, and that’s the freest you can get.”

  Zack lit up with excitement—possibly the happiest I’d ever seen him. Thrilled to be fighting for a cause he believed in again. “Just let me know what I need to do.”

  Dawn looked at me. “Grace? How are you feeling?”

  I was still reeling, but I steeled myself. “A little crazy. But ready to try this again.”

  6

  “Are you sure you’re prepared to go back in there?” Dawn asked me, as we approached the side door of the stadium. “The closer we get to the ventilation system, the more the bugs in your brain will try to convince you to sabotage the plan.”

  Even now, that voice in my head was booming, urgent—telling me to run, telling me I couldn’t trust these people. But I recognized it for what it was. “I understand. I can do it.”

  “Are we sure we should bring her?” Zack asked. “You know, in this . . . state?”

  “We need backup. If something happens to me, I need someone else to step in. They’ve already arrested all our allies in South Africa. The three of us, we’re all that’s left.”

  As we stepped through the door, I had a moment of hesitation. Was it still possible the voice in my head could be Great Spirit? I couldn’t rule it out, could I? But then I remembered the conversation I’d just had with my father, and my own words rang in my ears, louder than the voice, for once: Just because it’s the first explanation you believed in, that doesn’t make it the right one.

  I ignored the voice as much as I could as we moved up the stairwell, Dawn giving orders: “Zack, you know the players here. I need you to stand guard outside the room while I activate the device. Grace—stay here, out of sight. If we’re not back in fifteen minutes, something’s wrong. And then I’ll need you to go and enter the code yourself.”

  Don’t trust her!

  “Got it,” I said, almost shouting over the voice in my head.

  They disappeared into the building, and I hid myself in a corner of the stairwell, out of sight of the door. Stop her! Don’t trust her!

  Ignore it, I told myself. You have to ignore it. Stop her! Ignore it. You’re an idiot! You can’t trust either of them! Ignore it.

  Now that I knew what the voice was, I had to admit
Dawn was right about how dangerous this tech was. And as horrifying as it had been to ride in that truck full of dead scientists, I understood why she was intent on preventing it from being unleashed on the public. From what she’d said, the bugs in my brain weren’t even done replicating . . . who knew what this voice might be like once it reached full volume. Who knew what it might ask me to do, what Prophet Joshua could program any of us to do at any moment.

  I tried to distract myself. I thought of Jude—but that only increased my anxiety, wondering if he would be safe, if my actions would keep him safe. You’re an idiot! Don’t trust them! Finally, I heard a sound—two sets of footsteps entering the stairwell.

  But my relief was short-lived. It was too fast—Dawn and Zack couldn’t be back already. And then I heard a familiar voice: “You don’t have any more information than that?” It sounded like Guru Samuel Jenkins. And the legs I saw descending the stairs meant that I probably wasn’t hallucinating this time.

  A female voice I didn’t recognize answered him. “They were trying to enter an unauthorized area. The woman is a suspected subversive. The young man is one of ours.”

  “One of ours?”

  “I trained him myself. Zack Cannon.” Trained him myself . . . the words struck a chord in my memory. This woman must be Esther, the one who’d recruited Zack. A hint of black fabric swishing at the woman’s feet confirmed my suspicions. “He was one of our most promising new agents, although his record of late has been spotty.”

  “Find out how long he’s been working with these subversives. I’ll speak with Dawn.”

  The door slammed behind them.

  Dawn and Zack had been captured. It was up to me now. Don’t go, you can’t trust them!

  I had to activate the device myself. And to do it, I would have to fight my own thoughts every step of the way.

  7

  If Dawn and Zack had been apprehended while trying to get into the ventilation room, that meant Dawn’s initial plan of just walking through the door wouldn’t work—it must be too heavily guarded. And I didn’t have any other ideas, because I didn’t know these people, or this facility—but Zack did. That meant I needed to find Zack before Esther got to him, so I could find some way to free him.

  But where would Zack be held? I was woefully underprepared for this. Luckily, I had one vital piece of information that might give me a lead—the name of the person interrogating him.

  I slipped back into the building, hoping that since this was the last place Joshua would expect me to appear, he might not have the whole staff on high alert. I approached the first person I found, putting on my best innocent young girl voice. “Have you seen Esther? I’m supposed to give her a message, it’s very important.”

  No response except a headshake and “Sorry.”

  I asked another person, then another. No one knew. I was starting to despair, when a young woman passing by overheard me. “She’s heading for room 20A, I just saw her.” She gave me directions, and I called out a thank-you as I ran off, clock ticking.

  Moving deeper into the stadium, I heard the service on the loudspeaker, a South African cleric presiding: “I’m pleased to introduce one of my personal favorite clerics to the stage—all the way from the United States of America—Paul Luther!” The crowd cheered, and I couldn’t help but peek at the jumbotron—there was my father, walking up confidently, ready to give his sermon. I teared up a little, watching his beaming face. This was the greatest accomplishment of his life so far, something I would have been beyond proud to witness just last year. But now, I tore myself away from the screen. I didn’t have time to listen. I had to get to Zack.

  When I found room 20A, there was a man standing guard outside. Even if the door was unlocked, which I doubted, I had no idea how to get past this guard, or how to bypass Esther. But since I’d been lucky the last time, I tried some social engineering again. “Prophet Joshua would like to move the prisoner downstairs,” I said firmly.

  Run! The guard seemed confused to be getting orders from a teenage girl. “Esther’s inside with him now. Who are you?” Get out of here!

  I quickly flashed him my little green business card—I couldn’t believe how useful it still was, even now that I was burned. “I work for him.”

  You’ll die if you don’t leave right now. The guard straightened up. “Where downstairs?”

  Shoot, I didn’t know any more room numbers in this building. “He didn’t tell me, he said Esther would know.”

  The guard nodded and headed into the room.

  I didn’t want Esther to see me when she emerged—I’d been lucky so far, but I didn’t want to risk interacting with more people than necessary, and definitely not anyone high-ranking. I looked around for a place to hide; the best I could find was a large pillar, a few feet away. I slipped behind it, straining my ears to hear if someone was leaving the room.

  “Well, I don’t know, why would I know?” I heard Esther’s voice saying, growing louder.

  “She said you were supposed to know,” I could hear the guard say.

  “Who?”

  “She was right here. Some kid who works for the prophet.”

  “Great Spirit, I’ll go find him.”

  I heard heels clicking—away from me, thankfully. When it seemed like enough time had passed, I moved back toward the door, a plan in mind. Turn around, run, turn around, turn around, turn around . . .

  I couldn’t take it anymore. This voice was driving me crazy; I wanted to follow its orders, just to shut it up. I took a breath, steadying myself. You can do this, I told myself. You can silence the screaming in your head. And slowly, I worked to push the voice deep into the back of my mind. Run. Though I could still hear it faintly, it was easier to ignore. I moved forward, resolute. I had a job to do.

  The guard glared at me as I approached. “Where did you go?”

  “To find out the room number. The prophet wants them to move right below us.”

  “What room number?”

  “I think it’s 10A, it’s the one exactly below us, should look the same,” I said. “I can show you, if you want to grab the prisoner.”

  The guard looked confused, and for a moment, I panicked. I’d gotten too cocky. But the power of that business card compelled him to open the door.

  As we entered, I saw Zack handcuffed to a table, looking miserable. But as soon as he saw me, he had to stifle a smile. “You want me to uncuff him?” the guard asked.

  “Yes, please,” I said, maintaining my aura of importance.

  The guard leaned down to unlock Zack’s handcuffs, and the moment Zack’s hands were free—POW. Zack’s elbow was in the guard’s face, and the guard cried out with pain.

  Another punch, and the guard was on the ground, unconscious. “Nice,” I said, both impressed and appalled by Zack’s ruthless efficiency, as he used the handcuffs to lock up the guard.

  “Yeah, well, I joined up with you and kept my cover for all of five minutes. Not sure that deserves much praise.”

  “It’s harder than it looks.” I smiled, a little proud I’d kept mine as long as I did.

  “What next?” Zack asked. “Dawn? Or the device?”

  I looked at the clock on the wall. We were running out of time. The service would be over soon, and all these people would leave, taking with them our last chance at survival. “The device. If you know how to get to it without getting captured again.”

  “I have one idea. It’s not a smart idea, but it’s the only one I’ve got.”

  “What idea is that?”

  A devilish smile crossed his face. “We get Esther to help us.”

  8

  I was not amused. “Are you kidding? Why would she help us?”

  “We’d have to force her to. Gun to the head, that kind of thing.” He gestured to the fallen guard, who had a gun at his hip.

  “You’re right, that sounds like a terrible idea!”

  “Dawn and I got caught because my security badge doesn’t have access to that roo
m. Esther’s will. All I have to do is hold her hostage for a few minutes, and that’ll give you time to use her badge, get into the room, and enter the code.”

  “And then what happens to us?”

  “Like Dawn said, if we can remove the nanotech from ninety thousand people, that’s our bargaining chip. All sins will be forgiven, even this one. It’s not like either of us is walking out of here alive otherwise.”

  “Right,” I said, not pleased to be reminded of that. “So how do we do it?”

  “We could find her in her office, but that would mean walking through a stadium full of guards who all know I tried to break into the maintenance room.”

  True. “But she’s probably coming back here. She only left because of my message.”

  “Right. Hopefully she’ll be alone.”

  My stomach flip-flopped. “Maybe not though.”

  “I guess we’ll see.” He picked up the guard’s gun and turned to me, serious. “If this is it, I just want you to know, it’s been fun.” His wink threw me off guard again. The tangle of my thoughts these last few weeks had been so muddled—and now I knew I couldn’t even trust them. I desperately wanted to know what was real and what wasn’t.

  And somehow at the top of that list was, “So that kiss . . .”

  Zack blushed a little, to be reminded of it. “Well, yeah, I guess if we’re dying, we can talk about it.”

  I tried to let him off the hook. “It was manipulation, wasn’t it? You knew I had a little crush on you, and you wanted to convince me to help you?”

  He looked at me, startled. “Is that really what you think?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

  Zack smiled. “Well, I’ll say I didn’t know you had a crush on me.”

  Now it was me doing the blushing. “Little. I said little.”

  Zack’s expression turned serious. “I promise I was not trying to manipulate you into doing anything other than kissing me. That said, I definitely wanted you to kiss me.”

  In that moment, with all my adrenaline rushing . . . I really wanted to kiss him. Zack wasn’t Jude, and I wasn’t in love with him, but . . . I might never kiss anyone again. And that last kiss had been a really, really good one.