The Chase

by Bradley Caffee

  Crash. The door was down, and uniformed officers came running in as the woman screamed. Shouts of “Clear!” came from rooms as the officers searched the home. A man in a black suit with the Alliance insignia silently pointed to the man and woman. Both were held at gunpoint.

  “No! You can’t have him!” The woman struggled, kicking and twisting. Officers pinned her arms from behind. “I won’t let you take him. He’s our son! You can’t have him!”

  “Listen, maybe we can talk this out.” The father started moving toward the official in the suit. A wave of his finger brought a baton to the father’s knee. He collapsed with a scream.

  “I love you, Son.” The woman was desperate. “We love you. Your mother and father love you so much! Never forget that we love you—Willis.”

  Sweat beaded on Willis’s forehead as he shot up in bed. He checked the clock. It would be hours before anyone else would be up. It’d been weeks since he’d heard Casey Stone discussing her parents, but the idea of seeing his parents again after the Chase hadn’t left his thoughts. With it had come the same dream, night after night, a panicked set of parents struggling to keep their child. And then, his name. This woke him at different hours with a sour feeling in his stomach every time. He remembered the day he was handed over to the Chase Commission. He was very young, but he could remember his father’s proud expression. His mother had cried, a mix of joy and sadness. Both had hugged him and willingly handed him over to the officials.

  So, where did this dream come from? The notion nagged at his mind ceaselessly.

  It didn’t help that a journalist, someone representing life on the surface—life where his parents lived—had transported to the station after the last race and was interviewing the racers one by one. Each week, she spent time with one of the teams, writing up their backstory and reporting it back home. The Gold Team had eaten up the chance for more publicity. Creed and Walker had, of course, explained their philosophy of discipline and order, challenging the casual nature of the other teams.

  “UPSET IN ORBIT: How the Blue Team Changed Everything”—the story happened to be the talk of the entire station. The story of Blue Team’s big upset had made major headlines in the Alliance but would be outdone by her story this week, the Red Team.

  She said that everyone couldn’t wait to meet the hope of the Alliance. It was Willis, the son of two former racers, who was practically bred to win it all for the glory of the Western Alliance. Everyone expected he would win the Chase this year.

  “I want the Alliance to see you as more than a Chase runner. I want them to know you’re human, where you came from and who you are.” Sheila’s words had sounded genuine.

  He didn’t know how to tell her that he remembered little of his childhood. And now, he was plagued by these dreams. Sheila had scheduled an appointment with him for later that day, after the team training, so at least he had some time to think.

  The gym was quiet at this hour. A good sweat would calm him down, and it didn’t hurt that he wouldn’t have to work out with the team today. Jez had been so clingy since the last race. She appeared everywhere Willis went, and it bothered him to think of what that might mean about her feelings. The tension about this month’s race was thick. Everyone wondered if Blue Team would repeat their non-loss.

  Willis walked the corridor studying the other barracks. All these other racers remembered their families. Some even chose to enter training. The idea made him feel very alone. Alone, and different.

  To his surprise, the light in the gym was on as he approached. Who else was up at this hour? He walked into the dim overnight lights of the common room and peered to his left. Through the glass wall he could see a loaded barbell rise, again and again. Jaden.

  For a moment, he considered returning to his quarters. Jez was so wary of Jaden that he never got to talk to the guy. This might be his first chance. He touched the wall button, causing a glass panel to move aside. He could hear Jaden’s labored breaths as the weights rose and fell.

  “Can you spot me?” came Jaden’s strained voice.

  “Me?” Willis pointed to himself, surprised that Jaden would so freely talk to someone outside his team.

  “No one else here,” Jaden said.

  Willis walked over behind the bench and placed his hands under the bar. Jaden was lean, but Willis could see his sinewy muscles flex, betraying a hidden strength. Jaden cranked out a few extra repetitions with the last of his strength and clanged the bar back into place at the end of the bench. “Thanks. I have to cut the reps short when I’m here by myself.”

  “You’re here early.” Willis didn’t know what else to say.

  “I’m not the only one, apparently.” Jaden smiled.

  “Oh, yeah.” Willis’s face heated. “I guess you can’t be accused of being an early riser except by another one.”

  “Except that you’re not an early riser. I never see you in here this early. Dex is usually the next to arrive after me.”

  “Couldn’t sleep,” Willis blurted. He feared it might shut down the conversation, but he hoped it didn’t. His mind exploded with curiosity, and he scrambled for a way to continue talking. “You mind returning the favor?”

  “Sure thing.” Jaden hopped off his bench and looked at Willis, inviting him to use the Blue Team’s equipment.

  Willis glanced over at the red equipment at the end of the gym.

  “No point in going over there. This one’s all set up. Unless, that is, I’m lifting too much for you.” Jaden lifted his brows.

  “Way too much.” Willis smirked and sat down on the bench. Jaden let out an amused chuckle. Willis didn’t know why, but it surprised him to hear Jaden joke like one of the guys. So much mystery had surrounded him since the race that he seemingly became almost inhuman to Willis.

  “So, what’s got you sleepless, red leader?”

  “Don’t—know—bad—dreams—I—guess.” Willis’s words came between breaths.

  “Bad dreams?” Jaden’s voice was overly dramatic. “The great Willis has nightmares. Call the networks! Better, get that Sheila lady in here. A real human-interest story—the not-so-inhuman hope of the Alliance.”

  “Whatever.” Willis smiled. Jaden did not try to impress Willis, and Willis liked that about him. He also noted that Jaden used the term ‘inhuman’ in reference to him as well.

  “What were they about? Monsters? Things under your bed? Oh wait, I know. It was Chief Administrator Blacc under your bed, right? That’d scare me.” Willis couldn’t hold it any longer. The gasping laughter burst out of his lungs so quickly that Jaden had to help him secure the bar before he dropped it. “Careful, buddy,” Jaden remarked. “I don’t want to have to face your team if you get hurt under my watch.”

  “Yeah, they’d have something to say about that.” Willis smiled as he sat up. “You’d make a friend out of Creed, though.”

  At that, Jaden restarted his fit of laughing, resting his head on the bar. Willis couldn’t help but join him. It was the most honest laughter he’d heard in a long time. It occurred to him how little laughter there was on the station. The constant threat of recoding kept the teams in cutthroat competition. What would it be like if they had the chance to live as friends?

  “On second thought, I’ll stick to serious business while you’re lifting.” Jaden sat on the bench next to him. “So seriously, what does the great Willis have nightmares about?”

  “First of all, drop the ‘great.’” Willis dropped his eyebrows, silently promising he would never apply it to Jaden either. “I don’t know. Images of people. Bad things happening.”

  “Something you remember seeing?”

  Willis shook his head. “I don’t think so. I guess all this talk about the reporter wanting to know our story has me thinking. Must be messing with me,” Willis admitted, pointing to the side of his head.

  Jaden raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I hear you. She wanted to know all about my parents and where I came from. I told her it was a story for another time.”


  “Seriously? How did she take that?” Recalling Jaden’s missing tattoo, Willis hoped he would share more. He waited a long second until Jaden answered.

  “She didn’t like it. Kept saying she needed to report on more than racing.”

  “Did you tell her about your ear? About having no number?” Willis bit his tongue, feeling like he’d overreached. He paused hoping Jaden wouldn’t be too uncomfortable to discuss it.

  “So, you’ve noticed?” Jaden smiled.

  Willis blew out a breath.“Talk of the station since the last race.”

  “Really? Nah, I didn’t tell her. Not ready to go there with anyone.” Jaden scanned the room, not meeting Willis’s gaze.

  Willis tried to hide his disappointment. Jaden was more open than most, but it was probably too much to expect he’d have no secrets of his own. Willis moved on before the moment got awkward. “Maybe I should freak her out and tell her my dream,” Willis joked. “It’s all about the Alliance taking me from my parents by force. Like that would ever happen.”

  Jaden’s face darkened. “Is that how it happened?” In that instant Willis saw something on Jaden’s face. Something painful. Perhaps he’d found someone who, like him, had no idea where he came from. Not the time to ask.

  “Heck, no. My parents loved and served the Alliance.” He threw his hands up in front of him as if to defend an oncoming blow. “They were proud that I would represent it. That’s why I’ve been in training as long as I can remember.” Willis considered telling him about how much he hoped to see his parents after the Chase, but that was too much for their first real conversation.

  “So, you don’t remember leaving them?” He leaned in.

  “I sort of do. Images mostly. Good feelings.”

  Jaden’s eyebrows furrowed, and he tilted his head. Confusion filled his face, or was it concern? “So, you’re saying your parents turned you over to the Commission at an obscenely young age, and all you had were good feelings about leaving your mom and dad?”

  “I don’t know. Why?” Where he was going with this?

  “Seems odd to me.” Jaden looked down at the floor, his lips pulled to one side like he planned to say more but was holding back. “Come, on.” Jaden was suddenly more cheerful. “Back on the bench. You’re not going to get away with one set this morning.”

  “Wow. Comedian, therapist, trainer—is there anything you don’t do?”

  “I can’t sing to save my life, so don’t ask.”

  “Noted.” With that, Willis and Jaden laughed again. A movement in the shadows of the common room caught Willis’s eye. He finished his reps and sat up to breathe. It took him a second to see through the glare of the lights on the glass.

  Jez was watching them.

  Willis had been distracted the entire rest of his workout. Jaden kept giving him sideways looks, but he hadn’t said a thing. Willis showered and changed, to find Jez pacing in front of his door when he returned. Her arms were crossed, and her lips were tight when she stared at him.

  “What’s up with you?” Willis questioned, bracing himself for the outburst that was coming.

  “What’s up with me? Oh, great question. Let’s talk about me.” Her nostrils flared. “I’m not the one laughing it up with the newbie. How about we ask what’s up with you?”

  Willis shrugged. “Nothing. He was in there when I went in. No big deal.” He scrunched his nose in annoyance.

  “And you happened to work out on the Blue Team equipment?” She pointed furiously in the gym’s direction.

  “No rule against it.” He sighed loudly, hoping to shut her down.

  She pointed at his chest and glared at him. “Willis, that’s not done. What if he’d hurt you? What if he’d let you hurt yourself?”

  “He wouldn’t do that.” Willis couldn’t believe she was saying this.

  “How do you know? How do any of us know anything about him?” She was shouting. “He’s one of them, Willis. Blue Team. They didn’t lose last time. You think they’re going to let it happen again? They’ll stoop to anything to not get recoded.”

  “Jez, seriously, you’re making this way bigger than it needs to be.” His voice grew louder.

  “And when he lets the weights drop on your head, and we get recoded because you can’t run well, what then?”

  Willis’s jaw clenched. He reminded himself to keep his cool, but Jez’s words infuriated him. “Jez, that’s not—”

  “I can’t lose.” Her voice lowered but held its intensity.

  “You can’t lose?” Willis shot back.

  She blinked furiously, caught by her words. “I mean, we can’t lose.”

  “Come on. Neither of us is in any real danger. I’d hate to get recoded, but a two behind my ear wouldn’t be the end of the world, like a ten behind yours wouldn’t be either.”

  “Willis, you have no idea. You don’t remember recoding. They—do things to you. Make you think things. Put memories in you that aren’t real and take others out. It’s bad—and it’s not for us. That’s why Blue Team exists, so we can be safe, run in the Chase, and get on with our lives.” She pulled her black hair behind her ears, something he often noticed her do when her coding number was mentioned.

  She was right. He had no idea, but he couldn’t help but think she was overreacting. He’d heard that the doctors could insert or delete memories, but he believed they limited it to training memories—ideas that would make them better racers. They wouldn’t mess with people’s personal memories, would they? She can’t be serious. Then again, Jez was always serious. His features softened, and he smoothed his voice in an effort to calm the situation.

  “Whatever, Jez. It’s not going to happen anyway.”

  “Willis.” She grabbed his hand with both her hands and peered up at him. “Promise me you’ll stay away from Jaden. I don’t trust him.”

  “You don’t trust anyone.”

  “I trust you.” Once again, he noticed that longing look in her eyes.

  Stepping backward, he pulled his hand from hers. Not too quickly, so as not to alarm her. That expression was becoming more frequent, and it unnerved him. Did she see him as more than a teammate? Or was it something else?

  And why had she singled him out as the lone person on the station she didn’t hate?

  Jez was wrong about Jaden. That much he knew. He’d enjoyed working out with him. He pondered saying so, but her loyalty worked for their team. Life on the station was all about the Chase, keeping the teams mostly to themselves. Perhaps it didn’t have to be that way, but he didn’t imagine Jez would ever be able to accept that.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Come in.” Sheila knew exactly who was at the door. She leaned her forearms on the metal table in front of her. The sparse office the station had given her sported two chairs, the table, and a wall monitor displaying a view out into space. Thankfully, the chairs were cushioned, as she’d spent hours interviewing trainees. The door opened to the side, and Willis stood there inspecting the room like he was unsure he wished to enter.

  Make him comfortable.

  “Thanks for taking the time to meet with me between training.” She gestured to the chair. “My name is Sheila Kemp.” She picked up her yellow pad of paper and pulled out a pencil she’d shoved over her left ear.

  “Willis.” He shook her hand and frowned as she scribbled his name.

  “Willis? And your family name?” He winced at the word ‘family.’ She wanted him to open up, not shut down, so she quickly rephrased it. “Your full name?”

  “Willis Thomson.”

  “Mr. Thomson—”

  “It’s Willis. Last names sound funny around here. Runners don’t use them unless you’re on Black Team.”

  “Sounds good to me. First names are better anyway.” She smiled. “Less stuffy. How long have you been in training for the Chase?” She leaned forward to encourage his response.

  “As long as I can remember.”

  She pressed her lips together, considering
how to rephrase. Most racers were eager to boast about how experienced they were, and his response caught her. “I mean, what age exactly were you when you joined?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” she blurted, her eyes wide. She tried to calm the pinch in her eyebrows that must have betrayed her alarm.

  “I barely remember life before training.”

  Silence filled the space between them for the moment. These were not answers she’d expected, and she scrambled for an approach that would get the conversation moving.

  “Nothing at all?” Her voice transformed to one of careful concern.

  “I was at the Lake Placid Junior Training Center as a child until I came here. That’s all I remember.”

  She tapped her pencil against her teeth. “And when did you transfer to this station for advanced training?”

  “Fifteen.”

  She paused for a second to jot down a few more notes. It was a tactic she’d used many times. Some of her best observations came from the pauses between questions rather than the questions themselves. He looked at her curiously as if he didn’t know what she could possibly be writing. When she stopped, she caught him glancing at her notes.

  She’d written—check into W. Thomson background. She saw his eyes and quickly flipped the page as if she was out of room.

  Sheila took a minute to examine the young kid sitting at the table with her. He was nineteen, but with a face that could be mistaken for someone younger. He was above-average height, but the years of training were obvious. He was head-to-toe lean muscle, built for racing. He was slouching in his chair—not like a typical teenager, rather like someone older than his years trying to appear like a teenager.

  It was curious to her how the other runners had responded to her presence. The youngest, Dex, had been all positive and kept asking if his parents would see the article. Casey, or Stone as she asked to be called, wouldn’t open up. The ‘golden girls’ had been full of themselves and wanted to know how wide her publication would spread. She even interviewed the new kid, Jaden, who was pleasant, but not very forthcoming about his background.