by C. L. Stone
I was tucked into Brandon. The blanket was gone. It had gotten too warm for it. I was still sweating slightly when I woke up. He had a leg hooked over mine and an arm shoved around my hip.
“Who is awake making coffee?” I mumbled.
“I don’t know,” Brandon said. His face was red, but his eyes were closed. I thought the color might be from sun, which was odd because his tanned face didn’t seem to get sunburn. He must have been outside for a while to get it in winter. “It’s probably Marc.”
I tried to sit upright but his arm and leg around me had me falling back into place. “What? He’s back? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know, but he’s the only one who makes coffee around here. The rest of us go out and buy it.”
I wedged myself out from under his body, but it took him a minute to get off me and turn over, finding the blanket to cover himself up and go back to sleep.
I slid off the foot of the bed, threw on a folded clean set of shirt and boxers he had in a laundry basket nearby and peeked out of the door.
It was Marc in the kitchen. He was making eggs at the stove.
I floated over, barefoot. I’d never watched Marc cook before. I knew he did; I’d had his food. He was good at it, but I never saw the magic.
It was sort of like watching a cooking show. He did things kind of fast, just without the commentary. He managed to flip already made bacon, cheese and some spinach into an omelet.
“Ew, spinach,” I said.
“You won’t even taste it, but we all need the vitamins and energy right now.” He plated it next to some fruit that was already prepared.
The space was extra hot given the air conditioner still didn’t seem to be working. “How are you cooking in this sweat wave? And how is it this hot in December?”
“People must be running their heaters full blast or something. Not everyone likes it as cold as we do.” He left his pan warming on the stove and moved to the opposite counter, where he’d set up a small brewing station. He topped a latte in a paper mug with frothy milk and handed it to me. “Don’t drop this. Go sit at the coffee table.”
He followed me to the coffee table, carrying the plate, fork and napkin. He placed them at one end.
Axel was already here. I hadn’t even noticed walking out. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. In only black pajama pants, his hair was down, partially covering his face. He sipped his own coffee over a plate of omelet. A blanket lay over half the couch, crumpled. Another stretched out on the carpet where one or the other might have been sleeping on the floor.
“How’d you know I’d be out?” I asked Marc. “Isn’t this yours?”
He wiped his hands. “You were just next to show up. Someone else will come out in a minute.”
“Who all…” I wanted to say more, but my brain wasn’t working yet.
“Raven’s in with Corey,” he said. “And Blake.” He went back to the kitchen. I could kind of see him from the floor but turned back when it became difficult.
I blinked rapidly at Axel instead. “He’s here?”
“He’s on the floor,” Axel said, his voice still grumbly. He coughed once to clear his throat. “He doesn’t have a house right now.”
I wasn’t sure I was awake enough for this. “Why are we all here? What about the other apartment?”
“It’s occupied.”
“With who?”
“We need to talk exit strategy,” he said, ignoring my question. “Today. We’re going today.”
I frowned. I’d been going over it all night, but it sounded like something happened. “Did you hear about Sam?”
He nodded slowly, eyeballing me. “How’d you find out?”
“Doyle. Did he leave?”
“Yes. And I made Avery leave too with the younger Mr. Murdock. Might be bad timing for the company investigation, but we need them out of reach for now. We gave them Blake’s sailboat. Thankfully, Doyle grew up with Blake and knew how to use it.”
My head hovered over the plate, the smells of egg and coffee permeating my senses, but my brain wasn’t in food mode yet.
So I told him what Doyle told me. That Alice was the investor.
He bobbed his head and put his coffee on the table. “Taking care of loose ends. She’s tried to go after Blake. Now that he’s with us, we’re next.”
“And she’s got help,” I said. “She didn’t just walk into a jail and kill Sam. She has people working for her.” I sucked in a sharp breath and looked over my shoulder toward Marc still in the kitchen. “They could have…” I didn’t finish.
“I know,” Axel said. “Whoever got to Sam, could have gotten him, too. Luckily, we’ve a few friends as well. They didn’t have him wait around in the jail until we figured out what happened.”
I frowned. “How well do you know your friends?”
He picked up his coffee again. “I have every confidence.”
He said it so nonchalant that it threw me. It must have been Academy people, but Blake’s words still haunted me.
Be careful who you trust.
Before I could say anything, Axel perked his head up, over me, but toward the computers. A smooth dark eyebrow lifted and he rose, taking his coffee with him.
Marc took a step out of the kitchen, looking toward the computer. “Red heading inside, stopped at security.”
Axel leaned over the keyboard and tapped a few times at it, bringing up some screens, rewinding and checking a few numbers flying by. Suddenly they stopped, and a phone number lit up along with some data on the screen. “Gretchen. From Tissu?”
“Oh shit. Gretta. She’s early,” Marc said, wiping his hands on his pants but then looking at his half-cooked omelet. “She has clothes for Kayli. I forgot we gave her the address.”
“Yeah, but still. This is a really early delivery, isn’t it?” I asked.
Marc shrugged. “She’s probably dropping off before she has other appointments. Right? I mean, we weren’t really expected.”
“I think the heat is affecting the infrared readings,” Axel said. He pointed to the static screen and then switched to an actual overhead camera view. It was dark. He frowned. “Lights are dim at this hour. Too dark to see with the normal security cameras. The sensors he’s got working are interfering with it.” He paused and checked the numbers and some more data. “She’s being held down there. Security probably has a lot of questions for her coming in at this hour.”
I got up from the table, heading to the door. “We should go down to the first floor and meet her so she doesn’t come up here. We’ll just get the clothes and thank her.”
“I should go,” Marc said.
“I’ll go,” Axel said. “With her. Wake the others. Wake Corey. I know we’re leaving but I don’t want this problem. Get him working on a way around seeing when it’s that dark and hot.”
Axel and I headed out and walked into the elevator together. In Brandon’s clothes and barefoot, I wasn’t totally sure Gretta would appreciate the clothing choices, but it was super early. Would she judge me for what I slept in?
Arriving downstairs with Axel instead of Marc would probably throw her off. And how would we explain we knew she was down there? I was consumed with self-conscious thoughts and tried to form explanations.
What a mess our lives were. How would I explain to anyone else what this was?
Suddenly, the elevator stopped with a jerk, enough for me to end up with my back jarred up against the elevator safety handlebar. Axel stumbled, his shoulder meeting the wall before he stabilized himself.
We waited a couple of long minutes. I’d assumed some sort of temporary issue at first, waiting for it to resume.
The elevator didn’t move. Axel smashed his fingers against buttons on the panel. “Fuck,” he said. “Damn thing decides to quit on us now?”
“Is there a phone?”
He opened a panel.
The phone inside had been removed, the line cut.
His eyes widened. “We have to get out o
f here.” He went to the door and tried to force it open.
“Maintenance around here sucks,” I said. “Maybe it’s good we’re moving out.”
“I don’t think that was maintenance,” he said. He huffed and managed to get an inch of the door open. Once that happened, he could wedge an arm through and squeeze through. We were three quarters of the way between floors, caught between the second and third floors. He crawled up, then reached back in and grabbed at my arms to pull me through.
This hallway was quiet. I imagined most people were still sleeping. The lights were still dim, and only every other light was on, making it oddly dark. I wasn’t sure what floor we were on, somewhere between seventh and the first.
He pulled his phone out, touched some red button on it and it called out. “Someone fucked with the elevator. Get everyone out. Now.”
There was a moment where he listened and then slowly pulled the phone away from his head. “Something’s wrong.”
My heart and brain were electrified with panic. “We have to go back…”
He nodded and kept the line open, holding it in his hands while we raced toward the stairs.
The stairs were pitch black.
He grumbled. “Someone shut off the lights in here. This is sabotage.” He raced ahead of me up the steps.
It was fear that propelled me, following his phone flashlight. It was the only focus I had. Follow Axel. Stay together. Find out what was going on.
When we got to the right floor, the door was stuck. It took a minute to get it pushed aside.
Axel head straight to his own apartment, he tried the handle, and then used his key, shouting at it. “We’re coming in.”
When we got inside, it was dark, and when he flipped the light switch, it remained dark.
But the glow of outside lights from the window was enough to be clear something had happened. The computers in the dining area were on the floor, broken glass glittered across the carpet.
The silence was the eeriest part.
Followed by the smell.
Axel tugged at my arm, holding me at the door. “Stay here.”
He didn’t give me a chance to follow him, and I hesitated because of the glass. “Who was staying here?”
He crossed the room carefully, using the light from his phone to shine over the space. It reflected over the destruction. He moved his bedroom door further open. The tanks were smashed, water flooded the floor. The fish and other creatures in them already dead.
We’d just missed this, I kept thinking. We weren’t gone that long…
He sucked in a breath and turned away to cross to the other bedrooms. “We had people here watching over them. Blake’s family. My cousin… and… You…” He paused as the light swept over a bloodstain across one of the walls near Raven’s door. “Your father…”
It stunned me they had brought them here. To protect them? At the same time, my brain was registering what I was seeing.
The blood.
The silence.
There wasn’t anyone here. She’d taken them.
An overwhelming surge of anger swept through me, starting with Blake’s family and full tilt at the thought of my father being here. “Why…him…”
“He’s had contact with you within the last twenty-four hours…” He stopped when we heard the sound of sirens in the distance, coming closer. He came back to me, pushing me out the door. “We have to go.”
“Where could they have gone? Gretta…”
“Someone got to Gretta,” he said. “They got her phone to distract us maybe? We’ll check on her later.”
We raced toward the other apartment.
But this door was open.
Lights never turned on.
Blood smeared across the wall.
Empty.
We headed to the stairwell again and down, the whole way, to the bottom floor. He spoke into the phone, breathless. “Self-terminate.”
That was it. I wasn’t sure who he was talking to or what it meant, but I didn’t have the breath to question.
We hit the ground floor and emerged just as alarms started blaring in the building. The night guard that was usually around was missing. The extra security that had been in place, whoever they were, weren’t there.
Where was everyone? Did they run away? Escape?
Brandon…Marc…the others…
Axel had me follow him out the back door. I was already breathless from running down the stairs, but the fear inside me kept me going. It was like I couldn’t breathe in the building anymore, and outside I was just trying to suck in as much cool air as possible.
And then when I looked behind me, above at the windows, I caught two bright balls of fire.
Self-terminate. They had to get rid of every evidence before the police arrived. No connection to the Academy. Nothing to leave a trace.
The blood. It just hit me again that there was blood on the wall.
Was it a set up? Designed to put us all in jail? To handle us like she did Sam?
Whose blood was it?
Axel jogged out into the night, toward the pond, toward homes not far from where the building was. Police had pulled into the parking lot of the apartment building. More were on the way.
Who knew if the others had gotten out?
As we ran around the pond in the back, he broke his phone in two and threw the pieces into the water, leaving no chance to track us in such a way.
Two blocks down, I was dying, out of breath. “I can’t keep running,” I seethed, bending over to clutch a stitch in my side.
He went up to a street parked car, something that was pre-2000. He used a rock to smash the window and leaned in, starting the engine after a few seconds.
“Get in,” he said.
Within minutes, we were heading up the road, away from the sound of sirens, away from the Sargent Jasper.
I never thought leaving forever would be like this, in terror. Yesterday, I hated the idea, now I was doing so on pure instinct.
If we got caught, we were dead.
My heart was in my throat. Feeling the wind from his broken window didn’t help.
My breathing slowly normalized. I don’t know why, but after driving a while, it struck me hard. “Did we just steal a car?”
“I hear pot talking to the kettle like she’s never done this.”
“Not a car.”
“Only enough money to buy a car.”
I didn’t have an argument for that. I couldn’t help but talk just to keep my brain from shutting down. “The blood….”
“Not enough,” he said. “Not enough for someone to be dead. It was a swipe. Something to give a reason for the police to drag us all in for questioning…” He growled as he spoke, his usually stoic personality replaced by an angry storm I’d yet to witness.
“Do you think they got out?” I whispered, terrified of the answer.
“No way to know.”
He didn’t stop until we were in a neighborhood that might have been somewhere between North Charleston and Hanahan. He pulled over to where there was a sketchy phonebooth near a sketchier looking closed gas station. He tried the phone and then dialed out.
I waited in the car, my legs refusing to move for the moment. My body seemed numb after what happened.
His voice became loud enough that I could hear.
“Get them all out,” he said. “Everyone. Start with people connected to us at any moment directly. Eventually, get them all out.” Pause. “No, we’re staying. We’re staying and we’re taking care of this, but we’ll wait. We’ll wait until they’re all out. Then we’re coming back. No. I don’t expect you to agree. We never would agree to this, but you know it’s the right thing. I won’t say it.” Another pause while he listened.
In that moment he was quiet, I knew.
He knew what I did. That if Alice had the others, they could already be dead. We had to find her and put a stop to this, or it would never be over.
This wasn’t something we could l
et go. If we ran, they’d always chase us. They would eventually find out about the Academy. They would find them and take them down.
We had to stop it.
There was only one way to do it, too. We had to let go. We had to disconnect from the Academy as much as possible and take care of this ourselves. We couldn’t wait this time, not when there was a chance they had the others.
Eventually, he spoke. “I know. I’m sorry it came down to this. We all understand.” He hung up.
He motioned to me. “Get out of the car. I’ve got to hide it. They’ll come get it.”
I waited by the phonebooth while he parked the car behind the old building of the gas station. He found a tarp and used it to cover the front of it, making it look like some old wreck that was just left behind. I helped him shove a trash bin nearby it.
“You don’t think the police will see it?”
“They’ll come for it,” he said, suggesting the Academy. “Our prints and hair are probably all over it. They’ll clean it and leave it somewhere to be found. They’ll find the owner and make sure they get a new vehicle and if they have anything important inside, they’ll get it back.” He looked around the gas station and then tugged at my wrist. “But let’s not do that again. We need to disconnect from them now, and every time we need their help to cover our tracks, it makes it worse. Come on. We have to change our clothes.”
The air was cool, which was enough to keep me numb—to my own feelings and in general. It allowed me to focus on following him down the sidewalk. The neighborhood must have been familiar to him, because within a few blocks, we were at the parking lot of an old diner with a thrift store next door. The diner was just starting to open. Only a couple of people were inside, one sipping coffee at a booth, the other pouring over a breakfast platter at a table.
It wasn’t until we were sitting that I started shaking. Anger, fear, simply being exhausted…it all sunk deep into me, and my bones rattled.
Jack. She could have taken Jack. She may have taken Blake’s brother, and his pregnant wife. And Axel’s cousin.
She could possibly have Marc and the others. Or they escaped. We had no contact, no way to know. Either they got out, or they were with her now and we were out of time. The one place we thought we’d be safe from her until we could find a way out, and she took her chance.