The trucks arrived right on schedule at the end of the month. Lydia was prepared the second time around. She took numerous pictures, studied their patterns, and wrote down notes on the entire process. She wished she could have climbed up the cliff to get a closer view, but she gathered as much information as possible by zooming in with her camera. When she looked over her notes later on, she decided further reconnaissance would be necessary to enact her escape.
Meanwhile, her physical therapy was progressing smoothly. Lydia improved steadily each day, and soon she was able to direct and control her strength more fully. She was excited when, a week after her birthday, Barrett allowed her to remove the cast and finger dressings. When the doctor freed the arm, Lydia couldn’t stop moving it around. She punched the air and spent the rest of physical therapy using the recovered arm, brushing off Barrett’s warnings to take it easy.
Needless to say, Lydia took a more active role in training. She was assigned large dummies to test her mettle. At first, she’d punch them so hard that her arms flared up. With help from the instructors, she learned to control her strikes.
Wren formed soft ice sculptures and threw snowballs for Lydia to hit. Ryan helped gladly, sometimes taking the snowballs from Wren and aiming at Lydia from his spots on the walls and ceiling. For Lydia, it was exhilarating and loads of fun.
She fell into a routine after each physical therapy session. Since Wren took longer than Lydia with homework or had other things to do until dinner, she hung out with Cooper. They would talk about anything and everything, swapping stories nonstop. Lydia learned more about the Cave’s previous occupants, how Arthur had been running the operation for fifteen years after his predecessor retired, and how most of the staff lived and worked in the Cave in three-month shifts. “He says it’s a similar system to the military,” Cooper said. “If you couldn’t tell, that stuff is really ingrained in him.” According to Cooper, the only ones who didn’t follow the system, other than the agents, were Arthur and Barrett. “They always elect to stay longer to watch over everything,” he said.
For all the talk of agents, Lydia had hardly seen any, other than Sylvia, and the stray visitor. When asked, Cooper said that agents were away on long assignments or spread out over many cases. “Catching rogue BEPs is hard work,” he had said. “That’s what I’ve been told anyway.”
Sometimes Nina would surface to chime in on their conversation. One time, she even joined in. She never really seemed to warm up to Lydia, but this didn’t bother her.
After shooting the breeze with Cooper, sometimes Lydia would swing by Aidan’s training room. Unlike her, Aidan was stuck in the same limbo he’d been in since she’d first met him. He neither excelled nor regressed. She would wait for him all the same, watching his efforts and silently cheering him on when he almost flew. When he finished, Lydia and he would walk together to join Jando, Wren, and Donny for dinner. Sometimes Nina, Cooper, and Ryan would eat with them.
Although not as friendly and open as Wren, Aidan grew more sociable with Lydia as the days progressed. She learned he was an only child and a little younger than she was. “Finally! I’m not the youngest out of everyone I know!” Lydia had said happily. Aidan also enjoyed adventure novels and could sew—but he had asked her not to go around telling people that. His parents also ran their own business together.
“What do they do?” Lydia asked when she’d discovered that bit of information.
“They’re tour guides,” he said.
“What kind of tours do they give?”
“Nature trails and hiking. Business dried up in Canada, so they moved their business to the states.”
“And you moved with them?” Lydia added, realizing too late how ridiculous the question was.
“No, I’m still living there right now,” he said, ribbing her. “I sneak back to Canada each night by a secret tunnel into my old room.” Lydia rolled her eyes. “Yes, I moved with them. What about your parents? What do they do?” he asked.
“My dad runs his own business, too. A lawn service.”
“And your mom?”
“She works at a law firm,” Lydia said. “Hopes to have her own practice one day.”
As the days dragged on, Lydia considered testing the waters with Wren on the escape plan. One night in her room, she poured over printed enlarged photographs of the trucks as she waited for Wren to return from the video store. In the middle of formulating the best route, her roommate burst in, carrying a stack of movies. “I’m back!” she said, spreading them out on her bed.
Lydia used her homework to cover up the photographs. “What did you get?”
“A little of this, a little of that,” Wren said. She held up the cases, one by one. All action movies. “I was feeling actiony tonight! Oh! Oh! I was able to snag a copy of a movie with Arthur in it, too! You know? One of the ones I was telling you about?” She popped the only tape of the bundle into the television’s VCR. “Good thing they still have these.”
“Yeah,” Lydia said. “Hey, Wren. Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, shoot,” Wren said. She sat on the carpet in front of the machine and fast-forwarded through the movie. “Trust me. The movie sucks. Whoever’s in charge of the camera didn’t even catch most of the fights except Arthur’s.”
“You ever want to get out of here? Go back home?” Lydia asked.
“Sure,” Wren quickly said. “But I will when they say I’m finished. Here’s the part!” She stopped the movie and played it. “Wait for it.”
“I mean leave right now. If you could, would you want to?”
“There he is!” Wren said, pointing at a fuzzy figure on the screen. All Lydia saw was darkly dressed man, one of dozens of henchmen a villain threw at the hero. “It’s pretty grainy and he’s way in the back, but the hair looks kind of the same.”
“Wren, are you listening?” Lydia asked.
Wren spun around to look at Lydia. Legs crossed, Wren rocked back and forth on her rear. “Yeah, I am. Would I leave? I mean, yeah, sure if I was allowed to leave now. I think everyone would.”
“No, not allowed to,” Lydia said. She took a moment to choose her next words carefully. “Would you leave if there was a way out of here?”
The light dawned in Wren’s eyes. “Oh.” She reached forward and paused the movie. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t you miss your family and friends?”
“Of course I do,” Wren said. “But I have friends here to help. And if I left, Arthur would only bring me back. Not that anyone has escaped, as far as I know. After all, they haven’t found a way to cure me yet. Can’t really say I hope they find one. I like my ability now.” She created a fragile slice of ice in her hand. “So if I’m going to keep it, I might as well learn how to master it and defend myself. Why do you ask anyway?”
“I’m just curious is all,” Lydia said. So much for inviting Wren along.
“You still don’t like it here at all, do you?” Wren asked. “Not that I expected you to love it, but I thought you didn’t mind it anymore.” She sounded genuinely hurt, as if Lydia had slighted her.
“It’s not you,” Lydia said, sitting next to her on the carpet. “You guys are great. I like hanging out with you and everyone else. I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. It’s being in the Cave that’s eating at me. Not able to see my family and friends when I want and all.”
“You sure?” Wren looked at her.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Lydia said, smiling to reassure her.
“Okay.” She picked up the television remote. “If it helps, look on the bright side. One month down.”
“Yeah,” Lydia said. Wren popped out the movie and put in another. For the rest of the evening, they enjoyed brainless, explosive action with stalwart heroes fending off ridiculous numbers of villains.
* * *
Halfway Heroes Page 43